#really these are just for my own archive feel free to ignore them

[saetoru]

this blog is now archived !! find my MASTERLIST here !!

hi guys, and here’s a long overdue post that i wanted to take the time to make after collecting as many screenshots as i can for a lot of rumors that i think need to be addressed. before i do that, i wanted to apologize to all of my mutuals who ended up wrongfully harassed in their inboxes for simply knowing me—the irony of this issue being about bullying all the while people on this app have been simultaneously being genuinely awful to other writers who have zero involvement has been ridiculous.

i would’ve made this post sooner, but december was very busy—as you all know, i’ve been working with two separate companies for my capstone projects, and i had final presentations with boards to worry about. and then a cruise which was fun, but i was offline. now that i’ve finally had time to enjoy my break and collect my thoughts, i’d like to voice my own side to the discourse i’m sure you’ve all seen posted by @/garoujo, who is now @/gojoath.

first and foremost, i’ve been on tumblr for almost 4 years now, and while i may not have the brightest moments on here (no one will be spot-free in that amount of time), i’d like to think that if i actually went out of my way to vicious or bully people, this would’ve come to people’s attention a lot sooner. i’ve had a relatively large following across all 6 of my blogs in my time here, and while i don’t like to get into the metrics of my blogs, the reason i point this out is because i have willingly started my blog over 6 times. 3 of these were sfw blogs under my nickname tee, another 2 of which were my previous nsfw blogs under a different alias, and saetoru which is the current one, where i finally decided to combine my sfw and nsfw writing into one space. i just wanted to bring that up because i had quite a habit of leaving and restarting blogs before this one, and had i been obsessed with outperforming other writers in terms of follower counts, i would not have left the previous ones as often as i did. 

that being said, i’ll also go through a timeline of events and how they’ve snowballed into an issue that is not as one-sided as most of you might think. i’ve been mutuals with emmie since my first blog, and i’d been mutuals with her through most of her blogs as well. we’ve never really had issues until her last blog @/garoujo, which she’d started after deactivating @/atsymu due to discourse regarding racism accusations. the reason why we had a falling out was because i felt that there were a series of odd coincidences that felt slightly purposeful, but i was still questioning whether or not i was looking too deeply into it to actually point any of it out.

admittedly, when i saw her first set of banners, i felt our layouts were a slight bit similar, but i really didn’t mind too much because i had been planning to change my banners anyway because i was bored of them. so i took that as an opportunity to do so. it just so happened that within a day or two of every time i changed my banners, hers would be changed too—i never said i owned the color gray, and i even fully acknowledge that the last two sets of banners, at first glance, wouldn’t be a red flag. because, like i said, i was more uncomfortable with the pattern of coincidences than the actual layouts. then i switched to my instagram theme, and not long after, i noticed her add instagram story visuals to her navi. again, no one ever said instagram was my original idea, and that no one else could use it, but it was an unsettling feeling having the same moot continuously make changes around the same time as you, and changes that are different enough that you can’t exactly point out an issue, but slightly similar enough that you can’t exactly ignore the slight oddness.

coincidentally, the same day, another blog (who i will not name bc they’re not very active anymore and are also not very relevant to this story) made the same theme as me and i was a bit peeved because this same blog is someone who has copied a few other things from me and a handful of other moots, so i made a subpost on my moots-only personal blog at the time. keep in mind, i made this post fully aware that emmie was on this blog because i didn’t intend for that post to seem like it was about her. but she reached out to me, and i explained to her the situation, and i even provided the relevant screenshots to show my points. i still considered her a decently good friend at the time, and even with the slightly off feelings, i was still adamant about brushing them off and considering them coincidences that perhaps i was being a bit too critical of.

it wasn’t until i woke up a few hours later after changing my theme and going to bed that i noticed she’d then fully switched to the insta theme. again, instagram is an app used by millions and, at one point, was a very popular theme used amongst most people on this app. i’m not entitled enough to believe i was the first person to do it, but like i said. there are just off vibes most of us will not help but feel when a series of coincidences continue to happen back to back to back by the same person.

there were, amongst these things, a number of other small touches that made me feel off. most of them i don’t remember by now or have screenshots of, so i won’t bother to go into all of them, but for reference, one example i’d also like to point out that i’d had the phrase “you’ve reached the hanmas” in my inbox when she was still on @/atsymu, and sometime after, her sfw blog @/loveatsu had the phrase “you’ve reached the miyas.” small things like this are not things i make an issue over and am more than capable of brushing aside, but like i have said and will continue to push firmly is that i felt there were multiple instances of emmie, in particular, making small tweaks to her blog shortly after me that made me feel were not all coincidentally similar. the issue was never themes or thinking i am the first or only person to do something a certain way, the issue has always been me countless times feeling that one particular individual is exhibiting a behavior that is persistent and uncomfortable no matter how minuscule the instances may be. maybe they were really just unfortunate coincidences that happened with poor timing, or maybe they weren’t. but i stand by the fact that anyone in my shoes would be valid to question the timing of each of these events over and over again.

i would also like to bring up kinktober (though this happened a while after the rest of what i will get into) because this was the first public discourse that emmie and i got into due to an anon’s claims of similarities between our posts. i had received an anon who told me “i think someone copied your kinktober masterlist” which i answered to ask if they could let me know who. they had come back to say it was garoujo, and i did not reply to the ask, instead, i made a post to vaguely tell the anon that i appreciate them letting me know, but i will just leave it be and continue on with my kinktober regardless of emmie’s mlist. i do think there were some vague similarities, but honestly not enough to really question it, so i figured a confrontation or issue was not necessary. a while later, several moots had messaged me to let me know they had received anonymous asks saying to “block @/garoujo she copied @/sakusins and she’ll copy you too” (or something along those lines, i don’t remember exactly.) i myself was very confused (and upset) by the situation because i did not, and still would not, want to be publicly name-dropped in other people’s inboxes over issues that do not involve them. unfortunately, it led to some not-very-kind asks to both of us, and while i am sorry she had to deal with that, it is not an apology from a sense of culpability. that situation was, and still is, entirely out of my control. i would not have seen the masterlist unless the anon had mentioned it, and i did not take part in having people send asks about her to other writers. especially not in a manner that was pretty much social suicide for me as well. 

(this is a poorly made collage i know lol but i hit the picture limit bear with me here.)

i would also like to point out that i am not the only individual who has had issues with emmie and feels she had copied them. although i cannot disclose urls (they have been blocked out for privacy reasons) here are a few conversations i have had with my own mutuals, and i would wager there are more people whom i haven’t talked to who also feel this way. they might be small enough instances that sparking issues over them was not worth it to all of these people, therefore she has never heard from people herself about this issue, but the point does still stand that this claim about emmie is not one i alone make, and is one that i have heard countless times before. her never being approached by these individuals for the sake of peace doesn’t erase that they have been, and are, upset by these events, and it’s a habit that she seems to continually partake in. i would also like to link this post where she has been called out by another writer while she was still atsymu, which was posted while we were still friends. i’ve actually had a discussion with emmie about that post, and at the time, i had quickly skimmed the post and felt it was perhaps a reach, but after my own experiences, i went back to reread the post and considered perhaps there was validity to it, and that this might not be a one time occurrence. plagiarism in manners such as this will always have conflicting opinions, and it is hard to sometimes tell if something is a coincidence, a popular and overused idea, or something that has actually been copied. my point is that a number of people have all felt that perhaps there is a good chance this was not an accident, and please consider that so many instances of people feeling this way might suggest that there is a certain degree of validity to the claim.

at the beginning of all of this, when the masterlist banners had first started bothering me, i was upset, and i chose to vent to an ex-moot of mine who most of you would recognize as munsonsins. abby has deactivated a long while ago, but she’s relevant to this because i had chosen to vent to her at the time, and this is more or less what later caused this situation to escalate. at the time of venting to her, i knew she wasn’t mutuals with emmie because, as you can see, she’d told me as such. 

one thing i would like to point out is that there were a handful of people i had vented to about my frustrations with emmie, but one thing i had always been mindful of was ensuring these were a) individuals who i considered close friends and not just random individuals, and b) were not friends or moots with emmie in the event that i accidentally made people who she cared about think lesser of her. had abby been mutuals with emmie, i would not have shared my feelings, and once again, i was not loose-lipped enough to just tell anyone because they’d listen. i told abby in particular because i had felt we were sufficiently close individuals who talked one-on-one and were able to vent to each other. a bit after i vented to her, though, she befriended emmie, which i had no such issues with because abby was/is her own person and is an adult who can interact freely and befriend whoever she wanted/wants to. 

not long after that, on the night before eid (this detail is relevant in the future) an ex moot of mine @/kazuwhora reached out to me. if you guys remember, there was a discourse last year that was all over dash about how writers on this app should be open to criticism. a lot of people (including me and kc) were upset by that sentiment—which is still valid. please don’t give constructive criticism to writers without their explicit permission !! but regardless, kc sent me a screenshot of a mutual of mine who had posted their opinion on this discourse, and their point was clearly that while constructive criticism is important in some aspects, writers do not have to be subject to receiving it should they not want to. unfortunately, i felt as if kc misunderstood what this individual was trying to say, and i was trying to explain it to her, but we got into a small argument over how we interpreted the post. i felt some of the things she was saying about this individual were inappropriate, and i had made it clear that i was very fond of this person, and it made me uncomfortable to be having this discussion. regardless of whether she saw my interpretation of the post or not, i wanted to drop the discussion, especially because it was the night before eid. eid is the one holiday i celebrate, and there are traditions i quite enjoy the night before, and i didn’t want them to be spoiled with a poor mood over a silly argument. unfortunately, she wasn’t very willing to drop the topic, and it ended up making me upset. so i posted this screenshot to my moots only personal from the conversation that consisted of my messages only and said, “tonight i had to explain what a debate is.” it was petty, perhaps, but very harmless, seeing as there was no context given and no names/pfps to indicate who the person was.

truthfully, i had vented separately to cat, eris, and abby about this argument because i was friends with the three of them at the time, but needless to say, venting to your friends about arguments is a universal action, and i believe it is something all of us have partaken in. 

eventually, i decided to softblock emmie because i felt it would be more comfortable for me on my blog to do so. after a bit, i was informed of a subpost that seemed like it couldn’t be about anyone other than me—to make things clear, emmie subposting me was not my concern. i did not hold it against her because she is more than entitled to have her own feelings and vents on her own blog, but the thing that did concern me was that it seemed slightly evident that she was aware of my feelings when i had never explicitly had a conversation with her. it made me question who would tell her, and as you may have guessed, the only person with whom i had shared my concerns who could also be in contact with emmie was abby. 

at the time, eris had also voiced concerns that they had trusted abby with the ending of the plot for the diluc series they were planning, and coincidentally, one of abby’s friends had posted a fic idea eerily similar to their concept, to which abby had been commenting and reblogging more brainstormed ideas under. all of these ideas were very close to the plans eris had for their series plot, and understandably, they felt that it was not a mere coincidence that their entire plot was being brainstormed on dash by a person who was fully aware of their outline. i’d voiced my concerns with believing that abby may have also been sharing things i trusted her with, and as a result we both had made a few vague subposts that we liked from each other—a petty behavior, i will admit, but not something that i think is very out of the norm for a lot of people on this app. sometimes, we all just want to vent out our frustrations, and because we all more or less use tumblr as an outlet, these can sometimes be vaguely taken to dash. it’s not something that is ideally recommended (i’ve learned the hard way) but it’s also ?? not exactly something that only i’m guilty of, or is even a rare behavior. i think to shoot down one person for this behavior is quite frankly hypocritical. again, subposting isn’t a habit i would like to push as mature but it’s something i’d like to point out is very normal in this community, and is not something only i take part in. beyond that, i take to ensuring that whenever i do, i’m not explicitly exposing who i’m talking about in order to keep them out of unnecessary issues. 

after this conversation with eris, it kind of solidified in my mind that i did not want to trust abby with any more personal vents, or information, and i had ultimately decided to soft block her too. i had also decided to take the opportunity to softblock kc as well because i figured i might as well just remove individuals who i felt made me uncomfortable. this is, again, my right to do so to curate my own space. not long after, cat, eris, and i had been softblocked/hardblocked by a number of moots, and we were a bit confused, until cat ended up having a conversation with kc. many accusations were made about all three of us, more specifically, about me to kc by abby because the two of them had been discussing that they’d both been softblocked by me recently.

the list of accusations we were told of is as follows:

me, cat, and eris have a “burn book” where we “blacklist people.” it’s important to note that every time this discourse resurfaces (this is now the fourth time), the “burn book” has fundamentally changed in its composition—it has changed from a discord server “burn book”, to a google doc “burn book”, to the current rumor that it was an entire blog that was used as a “burn book.” it is consistently changed to fit whatever narrative is trying to be pushed, and regardless, the rumor itself is entirely untrue and has been addressed multiple times. cat has had a tumblr theme, a collab theme, and a server theme all dedicated to the film mean girls. she simply had a channel that was to share the urls of minors to block for interacting with nsfw works, or people who were anti-dark content—this is something that i have seen in all servers i’ve been in during my time on tumblr, and is not a new concept for many of you either. it’s simply a precaution a lot of servers take to warn writers about potential minors to block, and potential anti-dark content harassers. the name of this channel happened to be “the burn book” because it was a mean girls themed server, so the name just fit. nowhere in this channel were other writers in the community “blacklisted” or spoken negatively of, and here are the screenshots of the channel. this was simply something abby had twisted in order to paint us negatively. here is the link to cat’s post addressing it for proof and explanation (i run out of pictures or i would include them myself.)

abby also claimed that i was using this channel to talk poorly about kc and a handful of other moots. this is also false bc this server had several strangers (as it was cat’s server and i didn’t know all her moots), but it also had several of kc’s mutuals/friends in this server as well. i’m not so dense as to talk poorly about other writers publicly in a server, let alone a server i know has people who are friends with kc

now, this next part, emmie has conveniently painted out to be about me, as i apparently harassed and blacklisted people for liking itto from genshin impact, but i have been playing genshin for over a year on this app, and quite a large number of you are my own followers who see my rambles and my writing and i don’t have to explain that i have never written for itto, nor explicitly expressed an interest in him apart from perhaps one or two posts from back when i did his story quest. i never had, and still to this day, have no interest in the character itto. i’ve skipped his banner, i plan to skip his upcoming banners should they come, and i have never written for him, nor do i plan to write for him. this issue with itto is between eris and another individual, and i do not have the details to this, as i was new friends with eris at the time, and i’m no longer friends with eris as of current time. quite frankly, even if i knew the details, i wouldn’t go out of my way to share them because it has nothing to do with me. plain and simple.

as you can see, there were a number of rumors spread here to kc by abby, and as you can see, all of which led me to seem quite vicious in character. i’ve provided, to the best of my ability, screenshots and receipts of why each of these is quite drastically out of context and far from true to what abby has claimed. 

i did in fact, after these events confront abby because i was genuinely appalled by the way she knowingly and purposely twisted things conveniently to villainize me. she expressed that she was upset and paranoid by the subposts that she figured were about her once i’d soft blocked her, so i apologized for the posts. she had conversations with both me and cat about the rumors she’d started, and she also apologized for them to both me and cat.

the rumors that emmie has claimed about me in her post, which she conveniently provided no evidence of, are all rumors that are more or less a result of my differences with abby and kc. unfortunately, despite cat trying her best to explain to kc the falseness of most of these rumors, she didn’t really believe them—which is her business. to each their own. i’m sure if i had been in kc’s shoes and in one night, someone i had considered a friend had been painted to do a series of nasty things behind my back, i also would not know what’s true and untrue, and she is entitled to piecing together what she believes is her truth. what’s not fair, however, is for emmie to have no involvement/understanding of these events apart from a twisted narrative she heard from one person and dog pile them into her claims of my behavior to further paint me as a villain. emmie is more than entitled to have her beliefs on my character based on her own experiences, which she has provided her own evidence of, but simply slapping an “and i heard she also….” does not necessarily make claims true, and is very manipulatively thrown into the post to add a list of things that make my character questionable to further validate her point. 

not only this, but she has made a point to openly admit that she and her friends have collectively mocked me for my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, who they have apparently labeled as my “fake” boyfriend that i used to get attention on this app. quite plainly, i get enough attention on my blog that i don’t need a fake boyfriend to amp that up. but furthermore, i am a south asian, muslim individual. my parents are immigrants with very strict religious and cultural beliefs that i feel are very restricting at times, and though i love my family, i struggle with my identity quite a bit as i live in a very western culture that clashes quite a bit with my cultural norms. i do not get to freely explore my sexuality or even romantic life in general, unlike some of you. my parents have been kept in the dark about my relationship because them knowing about it is something that could quite literally create a rift between us, and i find it very insulting and almost suspicious that a white girl is making a mockery of my cultural struggles and my personal life. many of you are either desi or muslim or simply children of strict immigrant parents with quite stubborn traditional views. i’m sure plenty of you understand where i’m coming from when i say that i have to keep my relationship hidden from the majority of the people around me. tumblr is the one place i can anonymously share bits and pieces of my life without worrying about if it will literally cost me my relationship with my parents, so sometimes i may have overshared silly or pointless things, but that is because it’s my own way of being able to express myself and my relationship the way i have always wanted to. apart from that, dragging and making a joke out of someone’s personal life is quite unnecessary in this case. the issue is about tumblr discourse, and i find it very hypocritical that i am being labeled a bully when people, more specifically a white and privileged individual, is plain and simple mocking and poking fun at my personal life and situation that i have no control of. that is my piece on that. whether some of you believe i had a partner or not is not my business, nor do i have to go out of my way to show you evidence of my personal life. what i will say, however, is that there are a handful of close friends i have on this app who are involved in my personal life and have seen evidence of my love life through pictures and private stories on social media. quite frankly, these are the only individuals who i have to justify the validity of my personal life to, and it’s honestly quite violating for someone to stoop to dragging someone’s outside life into issues about tumblr. i extend a very genuine fuck you to every single one of you that have ridiculed my personal relationship and just know that you are extremely bold to consider yourselves above bullying when this is the type of behavior you admit to engaging in. individuals with complex familial relationships, and identity struggles between cultural norms, their ethnicities, and the western world are not your playground to make a joke out of. some of us have very real struggles, such as not being able to pursue careers in favor of arranged marriages, not being able to pursue actual relationships that mean something to us due to a lack of familial approval, being forced to bear children at young ages due to familial pressure, and so on. they are not laughing matters, and are a part of my reality. and before some of you get started—yes, it really is that serious. i have struggled my entire life with having white girls poke fun and tease at my cultural norms, and i refuse to allow another white and privileged individual who already has a record of racially related discourse walk away with once more poking fun at my personal struggles and not be called out for it. i hope you had a good, long, satisfying laugh emmie.

onto my next points based on claims @/anantaru has made about me. the main thing i’d like to really point out here is that anantaru and i have never, not even once, interacted to the extent of my knowledge. they claim that cat and i cannot stand it when people cross us in numbers and that we go through people’s likes in order to find minors and blank blogs to explain all the notes. a) i am very bad at checking for minors and blanks in my own notes, so this is not even a logical approach on my end, but b) this claim is made because cat made this post under the tags of a post going around last year that asked to hear unpopular ficblr opinions.

what cat means to articulate here is that sometimes, when she is scrolling on dash and interacting with moots and their shit/talk-posts, she peeks at profiles she sees in the notes and has happened to catch minors lurking. cat, firstly, has never followed anantaru, so they are not a “victim” to cat glancing at their likes, but secondly, this is not nearly as psychotic as it’s painted out to be. cat is not, and was not, jealous of other blog's notes. quite plainly, she’s not exactly a tiny blog either, and she’s only stumbled upon minors in the talks-posts of moots, including me. shit-posts/talks-posts are easy to notice minors lurking on, and while most people recognize that it’s quite impossible to catch every minor and ageless blog in writing posts with numerous notes, a simple shit-post on dash is more simple, and her unpopular opinion was simply that blogs that grow rapidly need to be better about catching those minors because they are susceptible to having more of them lurking. it’s a really harmless sentiment, and she’s gently reminded me as well on more than one occasion to be more responsible about my habit of being lazy when scouting for minors in my interactions. 

this is not out of jealousy, nor is it some sick and twisted habit she has to “explain” why people get more notes than she might get. it’s also out of a place of concern for her own content ?? i myself and plenty of other large blogs reblog from mutuals, and they are well within their right to be concerned that perhaps minors are lurking on our pages and interacting with works we reblog from our mutuals. cat has voiced this concern to me before, also out of goodwill and simple concern for my content, her content, and minors in general. there is simply no need to twist it into her viciously looking down upon large blogs and their notes counts and claiming they’re “only because they don’t block minors.” admittedly, though, i do need to be better about catching minors, and i have always appreciated her trying to keep me in the habit of being responsible about it. more importantly, it was a small passing comment under a post of unpopular opinions, a lot of them were hot takes, and this is hardly a serious one to get so heated over. 

i’d also like to point out that anantaru has claimed we blocked them for being a gatekeeper and because we’re jealous of their notes. 💀. a) i am very grateful and very happy with the level of interaction i get on my writing, as more people than i imagine leave me countless comments and reblogs. i have never had an issue with comparing my interaction with that of other writers because i have always been abundantly content with the interaction i get. i have no other comment on this other than cat and i blocked anantaru at the same time because we happened to see a post of theirs reblogged onto our dash that made a joke that we felt was a bit insensitive to/alluded to SA—i’m sure it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, but it made us uncomfortable regardless. while we are both dark content supporters, and i myself have read more than one fic that includes noncon in particular, it doesn’t mean we have to like/enjoy everything related to it and we simply decided to block them. i’m not going to bring this post up bc it’s simply not important. they are an adult who is more than entitled to make jokes on their blog and cat and i do not have to like them !! we simply did what we were well within our rights to do, and that’s blocking them.

there’s more they go on to say about receiving hate asks and that apparently it’s because of our “group of friends.” cat and i don’t have a group of friends. i don’t have any group chats with her besides the one with her boyfriend because i get along with him sometimes as well, and we used to play genshin together a lot when i was in low ar. not that i have to explain my friendships here, but i quite literally do not have a group of people to “send after” anantaru because people are well aware of my close friends, who i text with my personal phone number. i’ve posted silly screenshots of convos on my blog multiple times, and none of these friends overlap because i do not have a “group” of friends, just individual friends who i talk to one on one. cat is not friends with my other friends, and my other friends are not friends with her. there are no inner circles that conspire together to send anyone hate because i “tell them to.” and if there are screenshots of me explicitly encouraging someone to send hate on anon, i would love to see it. if i had sent my anons after anantaru, it would have to be a public post, and i’m sure if there were a post of such nature, it would have been brought to light by now. they have also claimed they were given multiple urls of mine to block. i only have ONE writing blog, @/saetoru, and the only other two that are still up are archived blogs @/hanmine and @/katsuphilia, which are side blogs attached to saetoru and have been inactive for several months. there are however, multiple individuals on this app who also go by the name “tee,” and perhaps we have unfortunately been mixed up as the same person, but the only blog i have is saetoru, so there is no other active blog they have blocked me from that belonged to me and was able to harass them.

not only that, but anantaru has claimed that one person off anon sent them hate with a kaeya url which they insinuate to be me. once again, you are all more than aware of my history of urls, and many of you have all been here to see them. i’ve never once had a kaeya url, nor have i ever been particularly interested in kaeya outside of a small number of posts on a rare occasion. my genshin favorites have always been characters from sumeru and, at one point diluc, and once again i don’t have to ?? explain my selfships to you all ?? but literally, i have nothing to do with a kaeya blog or kaeya account, and im unsure why it’s being thrown into my name. quite frankly, i’m not sure  what their moot has told them we have said about them, but the only conversations cat and i have ever had about anantaru was that one about the noncon joke, and that’s it. outside of that, there is literally no evidence of us speaking about this person because it simply doesn’t exist. 

i implore you all to, instead of starting public discourse over things you hear, confirm them first. had anantaru reached out to me or cat and expressed that they are upset that we are supposedly spreading false rumors about them gatekeeping, then whatever misunderstanding it might have been could have been cleared. i would like to also point out that it is not above bullying when you simply dump numerous accusations that you have heard through half whispers from moots and provide 0 evidence for them. i am perfectly aware of why emmie may consider herself to have issues with me, but i have never had an encounter with anantaru, and truthfully, i’ve never actually even read their writing before. my main (and pretty much only) experience with them is seeing the joke i saw reblogged onto my dash, and as i stated earlier, the only thing i did for that was block and move one.

and lastly, the other point i’d like to make is that numerous blogs who i have been objectively very kind to have come out to take the opportunity to stomp on my character and reputation. for example, tumblr user @/osaemu, who used to follow me and interact with me quite often. i have always been excited to interact with her because she was really supportive of my gojo writing, and at one point, i had a small area of concern with her using the same exact title as me for a gojo fic. below are screenshots of our conversation regarding the titles.

i am quite confident that this is a very polite interaction, and i was very clear that i didn’t think that her writing elements, including gojo’s parent dynamics and his dynamics with the reader, were copied or even something that i felt she needed to change. i pointed them out as a way of indicating that between these parallels and between the fact that i know she reads my rb! gojo series, i find it difficult to believe that our fic titles being exactly the same is a coincidence, and it made me uncomfortable—my concern was not how she wrote gojo’s parents or his dynamic with reader. i never accused her of stealing ideas that were mine alone to use, all i simply wanted to do was shed light on the fact that based on these parallels, i figured the names being the same was a touch difficult for me to brush aside as a chance similarity. i was very clear to outline that i know these dynamics and themes in writing are generic, and that people can pull inspo from them because i have done the same thing. my only concern was the title, which i politely asked her to change, and she agreed. case closed. i have been, again objectively, quite kind to osaemu, and i had no intentions of blocking her like a moot had suggested because i felt it was a very silly issue to block over since she was very lovely to me. 

i did, however, block her because she posted one-paragraph posts with multiple characters tagged. that’s not a crime on her end, and i’m certainly not here to police her posts in the tags, but as me and plenty of other people on this app have voiced multiple times, it is a bit irritating and feels like spam to see posts of these kinds in the tags so i blocked her. this is a very popular opinion and i refuse to be considered problematic for it. i am not here to police what constitutes an appropriate post to tag x reader tags on, and while i have made posts simply sharing my opinion on what i feel should and should not be tagged, osaemu is more than welcome to post whatever she feels she would like to into the tags. i do, however, block anyone who i come across who makes those kinds of posts because i simply don’t like them, and i don’t like seeing them. i don’t owe an explanation for why i block anyone, but seeing as i have been painted as some bitch for doing so, here is my reasoning. quite a lot of people agree on this sentiment, and to each their own, but i don’t enjoy seeing those posts. i did also unblock her at one point, as she mentioned. this is simply because a mutual of mine had voiced that they felt someone had copied the concept of their drabble, and i was helping them word a message to send, so i went back to this exact conversation to look back on what i said because it was a similar situation. as you know, blocking someone hides their dms from your dm list, so i had intended to temporarily unblock her just to see how i worded my message to help formulate a message for a mutual. there were no screenshots sent, i simply wanted to jog my memory of my points, that’s all. i did forget to block her again for a bit but eventually did, and that’s the extent of our interactions. i don’t recall posts telling people that i condone sending anons with death threats like she has claimed, and if she could point out the particular posts i have made where i encourage people to send anon death threats on my behalf, i would be more than happy to clear them up, or address them. 

i have admittedly, on a few occasions said in my responses to anon hate itself, the phrase “kys” out of frustration, and there are i’m sure conflicting opinions on that, but i do not regularly use this phrase in my vocabulary. i have been on the receiving end of graphic sexual and violent asks in my inbox regarding me, my teenage sister, and my mother, during my time on here, and sometimes out of frustration i have said less than dignified things, but this is not a constant behavior, and frankly, i think once people make graphic, violent, and inappropriate comments about my 16 year old sister, saying “kys” in response is not the greater of the two evils. it is a tad bit hypocritical to expect benevolence from me to an anonymous hate ask just because there is “another person” at the end of the screen when they have not extended the same sentiment to me.  

all of that being said, jumping on the trend to trample on someone while you have the opportunity to because you’re bitter they blocked you is also no better than bullying. apart from blocking osaemu, I have taken careful steps to always be respectful to her due to the very kind comments she’s left on my writing. leaving nice comments on my writing is deeply appreciated and welcome, but that doesn’t mean i have to subject myself to seeing posts i do not want to see on my dash on my phone. i pay for the phone bill, so i will cater my phone to show me what i want to see, and if that includes blocking a few people, i am allowed to do that !! i should not have to apologize for or be crucified for blocking someone and their feelings being hurt over it. 

not only this, but several of you have somehow started a rumor that i am 26 or even pushing 30. that’s nowhere close to the truth. i’m 21, soon to be 22, and i have stated multiple times i am an undergraduate college student. of course, there is no timeline to college, and people of all ages complete their undergrad degrees, but i have made it a point to vent about my concerns numerous times that i am very stressed about taking extra classes every semester to compensate for changing my major late because i want to graduate on time. my graduation year is 2024 (as would make sense seeing as i will be 22 years old), and if you don’t believe me, i have celebrated my bday on april 12th of every year this blog has been active. you’re more than welcome to check my archive to see if that’s true, and for further reference, here is a picture i have sent to mods of servers i am in to be accepted. (note that my url used to be hanmas before saetoru.)

although there is no shame in being 26 or pushing 30, the reason why i wanted to address this is that i wanted to point out that yet another rumor has been fiercely pushed on my name and has been believed to be the truth. no one has to walk away from reading this post assuming that i’m a saint and i have never done anything wrong or that i have been faultless in differences i’ve had with other people. but a lot, if not all, of these claims are exaggerated with 0 evidence, and people have just run with claiming them as true. i physically cannot deny a large majority of these rumors with evidence or screenshots because half of them are made by people i have never interacted with or talked to, and i cannot produce evidence for interactions that never happened. i have seen blank, burner blogs post stories of their experiences with me, one in particular that claims i dm’d them to tell them their hanma fic was breathtaking before i harassed them about their theme, boyfriend, and parents. a) i do not dm anyone to compliment their fics because i am simply too shy to do that. i would have only reblogged the fic with comments if i enjoyed it. b) again, there is no evidence on their part, and i cannot dispel this story with evidence of my own because evidence of conversations that never took place does not exist. and c) i would like to think i do not come across as dense enough to attack someone in their dm’s viciously about their boyfriend and parents openly with my account, where they could easily spread the proof around if it had actually happened. i am not responsible for people’s internet literacy, and if people believe every story that is shared with not even a small piece of proof that it took place, i cannot do anything besides simply urge you all to formulate your opinions based on what you see, not based on what you hear. 

i would also like to end things off with an apology to all of you—mainly because there was no reason for so many of you to be dragged into something that did not involve you and also because there are very disturbing and important issues going on right now in real-time in the world that are affecting a lot of people. i never want to be involved in something that takes attention off of important discussions such as genocide, and while many of you like to claim i am deflecting, i think it is quite telling that some people have posted nothing about something this important but have made multiple posts regarding discourse. i did not feel it was appropriate at that time to focus on discourse, and i still do not think so, but i wanted to leave off with my own statement.

i would also like to apologize if i have ever come across as unkind during an experience with me; it is never my intention to be that way purposely. i have a habit of being petty sometimes and can be a bit short-tempered, and it’s something i work on. with as large of a following as i have, sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all than say it—however vaguely it might be. i hope some of you who also have larger followings keep that in mind so that you can avoid discourse erupting into something grand scale. please vent to people you trust and be wary of having a habit to subpost. but mainly, please remember that people trusting you with their feelings and troubles is not something you should take pride in spreading. there is nothing to be proud of about sharing people's private socials, urls, and conversations. while i am not always able to keep my temper under wraps, and while i have had my fair share of petty moments, i, to the best of my ability, have always made sure that i don’t come across as intentionally cruel or mean, nor have i purposely broken someone’s trust. sometimes i have retaliated back a bit fiercely, but i stand by the fact that i never purposely chased or drove anyone off, mocked or belittled them, or sent people over to dislike/hate them. i have at times vented to those who i believe are people i can trust, sure—but this is something we as people are all guilty of. there’s no way any of us can hold one person more accountable than others for partaking in closeted conversations that are never meant to get back to people and hurt them. 

i genuinely loved, and still love, writing very much, and i have always appreciated every ask, every reblog, and every comment. writing is a hobby i am greatly passionate about, and it’s always a hobby i was very excited to share with people on here because i don’t get to share it with people irl. i don’t willingly tell people irl that i enjoy making elaborate plots about anime characters, and i have always been very excited to share that hobby with you all, whether you are a reader or writer. i’ve read fanfiction for a very long time before i ever decided to try my hand at writing it, and i would never want to knock other people down simply because they “surpassed” me. i enjoy finding writers to read from, especially those who write better than me, because they are where i draw the most inspiration and motivation from. the moots i look up to most are moots who are in my opinion, far stronger writers than me, and moots who i always firmly believe deserve much more reach than i do on their stories because they’re far more fleshed out and in-depth than anything i can produce. and i am proud of them !! and even those of you who feel you are stuck not getting as much reach as you would hope, i am proud also of all of you for picking up a google doc or pen and writing and trying, whether you choose to share it or not. i will always strongly encourage you all to try your hand at writing if you have ever considered it because i have genuinely built such a better sense of self-esteem when being able to incorporate pieces of myself in my stories and express parts of who i am—i think some of you might really enjoy the catharsis that writing brings, and if you ever debate on trying it out, please do !! you might become really passionate about it. 

anyway, this post is abysmally long. none of it is to clear my name in hopes that i will be “un-canceled” (LOL) because i have decided saetoru is long overdue to be put to rest. i hope you can all, at the very least, allow other writers some peace and stop harassing them in their inboxes for knowing me (because that is also bullying and very ironic of you), and i hope you all got some sort of understanding of where i am coming from. if you think poorly of me, that’s okay. i have an opinion of myself, and the close people who surround me, that i am confident in, and while i may not have always handled things in the brightest of manners, i am well aware of what my intentions have always been. 

i’m deeply grateful to all 41k of you, and thank you for reading my works and allowing me to write for you !! thank you for all the very, very kind asks that i never got a chance to fully answer each one of, and thank you especially for all the supportive comments and love on the writing i’ve posted. they might be silly fics you read once and moved on from, but they’re all pieces of me, my life, and things that are important to me, and as cringe and cheesy as it sounds, it means quite literally everything to me when people read them and take away something from them. 

also, as a parting gift, i will be posting the nerd gojo, ex-convict geto, and a marriage rb! gojo fic to my ao3 (also saetoru) for those of you who have been patiently awaiting those wips to enjoy. please (a little more patiently) keep your eyes peeled for those <3 i will no longer be posting or active on saetoru, and in the event that i keep writing, it will be posted on my ao3, so you all will know where to find me !!

so for the last time, i love you my little runts !! wishing you all the best, and goodbye to my lil saetoru bestees. 

mwah !!

— tee <3

ps. i also have turned off reblogs for this post and limited replies to people i follow only. a lot of you will jump to say that it’s simply because i am “hiding,” but it is solely because i have said my piece and i intend to move on. thank you and have a lovely day shawtee ✌🏽

#thanks to all my mutuals who have reached out !! i love you all #and i will miss you tons !!

[icarusignite]

Hey Autor,

Could you maybe make a Reader Velaryon/Targaryen x Cregan stark?

The reader is the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor (the real father is Daemon Targaryen) and the eldest child of Rhaenyra and the heiress of the iron throne.The reader is sent to the Starks at the age of 14 to live with them for some time (no idea what reason there might be). Cregan doesn’t like the reader at first and is mean to her.At some point, the two get closer and fall in love. Maybe just kisses could arise between them no more. After she was with the Starks for some time, one day a lord comes with his daughter maybe Alysanne Blackwood and her father. Because Cregan is engaged to her and should marry her soon,He never told the reader that he was promised to someone else and the reader gets angry. Cregan wants to talk to her but she ignores him. Cregan does not take action against the wedding and marries Alysanne. Alysanne notices that the reader is angry and and provoke her. reader says goodbye to Lord and Lady stark, While Cregan spends time with Alyssane to get to know her. Reader flies home on her dragon because she doesn’t want to be at the wedding. After years, a war in the north has broken out and seems to be lost. Rhaenyra sends the reader and Jace to the north to help the Starks and end the war with their dragons. Cregan has a child with alysanne (but she should still be alive please.) She's still bitter and full of anger. Maybe the two could have a happy ending because Cregan really loved the reader, he didn’t want to hurt her, but it’s called a stark doesn’t break an oath. Of course, the reader does not forgive him directly and makes him feel her anger.

Please a lot of drama, I love big drama.

I am sorry for my English.

Your reader.

Ps: I wrote this request to another author but I don't know if he wants to write it so I wanted to write to you again because I always love your writing 🫶

Cregan Stark x fem! reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.6K

Summary: The five times you told Cregan Stark you hated him, and the one time you actually meant it.

A/N: Hey heyyyy, lol I'm finally back. I'm soo soo sorry this took forever to put out, I've been suffering from massive writer's block and I lowkey feel like my house of the dragon hyperfixation was over for a while so I wasn't feeling too motivated to work on related stuff. Anyway, hope you like what I've done with the premise. Lots of drama but I didn't really see there being a happy end where they actually get together lol. As usual, I love your requests and asks so feel free to send in more (I shall try to get them done in a more timely manner T_T)

I hate you I love you

1. At first sight

Being the oldest daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and future heir to the Iron Throne meant that you were seldom allowed to follow your heart's desire. You were simply a pawn in the grand elaborate game of life, fit to be moved around wherever someone saw fit. You didn't have much of a say when your mother named you her heir, you didn't have a say when she decided that you would be sent to be fostered at Winterfell for a few years for some reason you could not fathom, and you certainly would not have a say when you would be married off to whatever lord would serve the greatest political advantage. 

You first met the dark-haired boy that was Cregan Stark at the impressionable young age of fourteen, and you were quite intimidated. There was something in his eyes, their steely grey reminding you of an icy winter storm. His uncle, Lord Bennard, currently ruled the north as regent and you could tell that relations were tense between the two of them.

Lord Brennard had led you into the Great Hall, where the fire roared in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. There, standing near the hearth, was a young man of sixteen, with a stony expression, his eyes fixed on the flames. Lord Brennard cleared his throat, and the young man turned to look at them.

"Princess, may I introduce you to my nephew, Cregan Stark," Lord Brennard said with a polite smile.

Cregan regarded you with a cold, distant gaze, his demeanour as frosty as the land outside. He didn't extend a hand or offer a greeting. Instead, he simply nodded, his lips pressed into a thin line, making it clear that he would rather be anywhere else but there.

If you were unhappy with his offputting behaviour, you made no show of it. Your mother had schooled you in the proper etiquette of being a gracious young lady and you extended your hand gracefully. 

"It's a pleasure to meet you, my lord."

Cregan's response was curt, "Likewise." 

He then turned his attention back to the fire, seemingly disinterested in your presence.

Lord Brennard, ever the diplomat, tried to initiate conversation. 

"Cregan, the princess has travelled a long way to be here. Perhaps you could show her around Winterfell, and introduce her to some of your companions?"

Cregan sighed audibly and finally tore his gaze away from the flames, "Do I have to, Uncle?"

Lord Brennard's expression tightened slightly, but he remained patient, "It would be a kind gesture, Cregan. She's a guest in our home."

You smiled politely, doing your best to break through the young lord's cold exterior, "I would appreciate it greatly. I've heard so much about Winterfell, and I'd love to get to know the people who live here."

Cregan rolled his eyes but eventually relented with a reluctant nod.

"Fine, I'll show you around, but don't expect me to be your tour guide."

"Thank you. I promise not to be a bother," you grinned now, willing him to at least return some of your warmth. 

Cregan's tour of Winterfell was far from what you had imagined. He led you through the castle's corridors and courtyards with long, determined strides, leaving you to struggle to keep up. Your gown, designed for the elegant strolls through the castles of the Red Keep and Dragonstone, was ill-suited for the rugged terrain and brisk pace Cregan set.

"My lord, please, may we slow down?" you called out, your voice slightly breathless. Your soft leather shoes were ill-equipped for the uneven stone floors, and your dress hampered your every step.

Cregan barely spared you a glance, his impatience evident in his voice, "We don't have all day, Princess. You wanted a tour, didn't you?"

You pressed on, determined not to let Cregan's demeanour ruin your first day at Winterfell. You struggled to maintain your composure, but your frustration was building. 

"Yes, but I didn't expect it to be a race. Could you at least wait for me?"

Cregan halted abruptly, turning to face you with a roll of his eyes, "Didn't you promise not to be a bother?"

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and frustration. You had hoped for a warmer welcome, but it seemed Cregan was determined to make you feel like an unwanted guest. 

"I did, but I didn't realize being polite was such a bother."

Cregan let out an exasperated sigh, and for a moment, you thought he might storm off and leave you behind. Instead, he begrudgingly slowed his pace, allowing you to catch up.

"Fine, let's get on with it."

As you continued the tour, Cregan pointed out various parts of Winterfell with curt explanations, still making no effort to engage in polite conversation. You did your best to show interest and appreciation for the castle's history and architecture, but it was clear that Cregan was not interested in your company.

Later that evening, the dinner at Winterfell was a formal affair, and despite the grandeur of the feast laid out, Cregan continued to be rude and dismissive towards you. He barely acknowledged your presence, and when you attempted to engage in conversation with other members of the Stark household, he would interrupt with snide comments or pointedly change the subject. The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel the disapproving glances of some of the Stark bannermen who were clearly not pleased with the arrangement. You couldn't blame them though; you were an outsider, and Cregan's hostility toward you only made matters worse.

Eventually, you had had enough. After the meal, when you found yourselves alone in the corridor leading to your chambers, you turned to him, frustration boiling over after hours of having kept it simmering under your skin. 

"My lord, may I ask you something?"

Cregan raised an eyebrow, his icy demeanour unchanged, "I don't suppose you'd desist if I refused?"

That was it. Your final breaking point. 

"Why are you determined to be so fucking impolite to me?" your voice exploded, echoing in the empty corridor. 

Cregan's eyes widened, surprised at your use of profanities no doubt. 

Without stopping for a breath, you continued your torrent of complaints, "I understand that you didn't want me here, but have you perhaps considered that I didn't want to leave my home either? I didn't have a say in this, just like you, so if I can muster up the courage to try and hold on to a shred of hopefulness about this whole situation, can't you at least try to be civil to me? You're older than me, after all. Or do you not have the emotional maturity to not be a fucking menace to people you've judged in your head before even getting to know them."

Cregan regarded your outburst with his usual cold indifference, and you felt yourself deflate. Perhaps you had gone too far. Insulting a lord in his home was not proper behaviour befitting a young lady but you would be lying if you said that it didn't bring you a little satisfaction to see the slight cracks in Cregan's composure. There was a glimmer of something else in his eyes as well—a flicker of respect, perhaps. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he finally let out a sigh, seemingly relenting and his eyes softened, almost too imperceptibly.

"Fine," he said grudgingly, his tone suggesting that he was far from genuine. "I apologize if my behaviour has offended you, Princess."

He tacked on the Princess at the end of his sentence, almost as an afterthought and the mockery in it only made the fire in your eyes blaze brighter. You opened your mouth to say something else but Cregan raised his hands placatingly. 

"No, no. I am truly sorry for my behaviour. I had my reasons but I will not give you excuses," he chuckled. "Although I must admit, I did not expect you capable...of that."

Your ears flushed crimson and you ducked your head in embarrassment.

"I hate you Cregan Stark," you mumbled under your breath but when you looked up to see his arrogantly cocked eyebrow and knowing smirk, you realized you did not quite mean it with the intensity he deserved. 

2. Deep in the godswood

One crisp, sunny morning, the two of you found yourselves in the godswood of Winterfell, surrounded by the ancient trees with their solemn faces carved into the bark. You had decided to engage in a rare moment of playfulness, and the game you had chosen was a simple one—tag.

Cregan, always quick and agile, took the first turn as the pursuer. He sprinted after you, his laughter echoing through the godswood. After a few months at Winterfell, you were no longer the delicate princess you once were, and you ran with surprising grace.

As you weaved between the towering trees, the thrill of the chase engulfed you. You darted around a tree, hoping to outmaneuver Cregan, but he was relentless. With a burst of speed, he lunged forward and tagged you, causing you to stumble.

Your foot caught on a root, and you tumbled to the ground with a cry of surprise. You had landed on the soft moss beneath the tree, your dress stained with mud and leaves. You scowled and glanced up at Cregan, who stood over you, victorious and unapologetic.

"You cheated," you accused your voice a mix of irritation and laughter.

Cregan grinned mischievously, "All's fair in love and war, Princess."

You couldn't help but chuckle despite your fall. You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your gaze meeting Cregan's. 

"Well, we must be at war then, my lord, for I see no love here in this godswood."

"Oh is that so?" Cregan's eyes twinkled and he watched you in a way that made your ears flush again. 

"I fucking hate you!" you declared, trying to force a scowl on your face.

Cregan's expression softened, and he reached out his hand to help you up. As you looked into his eyes, something shifted within you. You realized that your declaration of hatred was no longer true if it ever had been.

You accepted Cregan's hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet and into him. Your gaze met his, and there was a brief moment where something bright and electric sparked between the two of you. 

Cregan smiled and winked, breaking the soft moment. 

"Let's watch our language, Princess. And don't try to lie to me, I know you better than that."

"Oh, you know nothing at all, my lord."

3. Once upon a fairytale

The ball at Winterfell was a rare and enchanting event, one that had not been held in years. The Great Hall had been transformed into a dazzling spectacle, with chandeliers glittering from the ceiling and banners of House Stark adorning the walls. The air in Winterfell had been doing you wonders and you had grown even more radiant in the past year. Your presence drew the attention of many young lords from noble houses across the North.

You were quickly approached by eager suitors the moment you stepped into the hall, and they approached you with polished manners and flattering words, hoping for a chance to dance with a royal princess. Cregan, watching from the shadows, felt a pang of jealousy as he saw one lord after another try their luck with you, often stumbling over their words in their haste.

In response to their requests, you smiled politely and declined each invitation with a gracious nod. Your eyes, however, never strayed far from Cregan, who it seemed had taken up a dance with another lady—a striking brunette with a winsome smile. 

Finally, when the music shifted to a slower, more intimate melody, Cregan finished his dance and made his way towards you. He extended his hand with a charming smile. 

"Princess, may I have this dance?"

Your response was less than warm. You raised an eyebrow and looked at him with mock annoyance. 

"Oh, my lord, how kind of you to finally grace me with your presence. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me."

Cregan's smirk was mischievous as he took your hand, "Forgotten about you? Never, my lady."

As you began to dance, the tension between the two of you was palpable. Your voice was hushed as you spoke, your irritation clear. 

"You've been dancing with other ladies all night. I thought you weren't interested in me."

Cregan leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your throat, "Jealous, are we?"

Your cheeks flushed.

"No," you replied, trying to remain nonchalant, but your tone betrayed your true feelings. "I just thought you were ignoring me."

"Sounds like jealousy to me."

You rolled your eyes, "I hate you, Cregan Stark."

Cregan's eyes twinkled with amusement as he spun you gracefully across the floor, "You don't."

You opened your mouth to protest, but Cregan brought your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your breath immediately caught in your throat, rendering you speechless.

Cregan held your gaze, his eyes filled with a fierce intensity. 

"No, you don't," he repeated softly as if daring you to deny it.

4. Slowly, and then all at once

Throughout the next grand feast, Cregan couldn't resist cracking teasing jokes at your expense, each one playful but not cruel, designed only to elicit merriment. His quips were met with laughter and amusement from the other lords and ladies, you felt annoyed being his topic of discussion that evening.

After the dinner finally concluded, you could take no more. You caught Cregan by the arm as he was about to leave the hall and dragged him away to an isolated hallway. Your eyes flashed with anger as you turned to face him and although the expression on your face was a serious one, he couldn't help but be mesmerized by the fieriness of it. It was the same expression you had worn the first time you confronted him about his behaviour and unbeknownst to you, that was when he had first started to feel that aching pull toward you.

"What was that all about, Cregan?" you demanded, your voice sharp. 

Cregan's response was unexpected. He didn't offer an apology or a defence of his actions. Instead, he took a step closer to you, his expression intense. Before you could react or voice your pent-up frustration, he kissed you.

It was a passionate, intense kiss that left you momentarily breathless. Your protests were silenced as your lips met his, and your anger dissolved into a mixture of surprise and desire. Cregan's lips were firm against yours, his hands gentle but insistent on your waist.

When he finally pulled away, you were left looking quite dazed and disoriented. Your cheeks flushed, and your heart raced in your chest. Cregan smirked at you, his eyes filled with a blend of amusement and affection.

"Princess," he said softly, "Don't you dare say that you hate me again. It's abundantly clear that you don't."

You tried to form a coherent response, but your thoughts were still scattered from the unexpected kiss. You found yourself at a loss for words, your feelings for the young lord more complex than ever before.

Cregan's thumb brushed gently against your cheek, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead tenderly. 

"Let's not waste any more time pretending, my lady," he whispered. "We both know how we truly feel."

5. I wish I could hate you

The arrival of Lady Alysanne Blackwood and her father brought a flurry of activity to Winterfell. Lady Alysanne was a beautiful and vivacious woman, and her presence seemed to light up every room she entered. As the daughter of an important house, she was greeted with warmth and enthusiasm by Lord Brennard Stark and the other members of House Stark.

You couldn't help but notice the stark contrast in Cregan's behaviour towards Lady Alysanne compared to his demeanour with you when you first arrived. He greeted the Blackwoods with a genuine smile, engaged in polite conversation, and even offered to show Lady Alysanne around Winterfell himself. It was a stark departure from the cold and aloof Cregan you had known at first.

You tried to push aside the feelings of hurt and jealousy that welled up within you. It had been some time since Cregan had treated you with such indifference, and you knew you should let bygones be bygones. After all, you reasoned, Cregan had every right to make new acquaintances and friends. You were still the one he shared kisses with and spoke whispered promises to. 

However, as the days passed, you couldn't shake the feeling of being left behind. Cregan seemed to spend more and more time in the company of Lady Alysanne, showing her the beauty of Winterfell, introducing her to the people of the North, and sharing tales of their homeland.

One evening, as you watched Cregan and Lady Alysanne from across the courtyard, a sense of loneliness and abandonment washed over you. Then came the announcement that turned your blood cold. There was talk around the castle of preparations for a grand wedding. At first, this confused you. Cregan was the only member of the Starks of marriageable age, but he had never discussed something like this with you. And then you realized why, when passing the kitchens late one night, you overheard the scullery maids talking about how lovely a bride Lady Alysanne would make. 

One day, as you walked alone in the quiet gardens of Winterfell, your steps slow and contemplative, Lady Alysanne approached you. You had been lost in your thoughts, unaware of Alysanne's presence until she spoke.

"I must admit, I wanted to see for myself the woman rumoured to be close to my future husband," she said with a smirk.

Your heart sank at the cruel tone in Alysanne's voice, and your voice trembled as you replied, "Your future husband?"

Alysanne nodded, her expression filled with mockery. 

"Yes, Princess. Cregan and I have been promised to each other since birth. It's a marriage that our families have long arranged, for the good of both our houses."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you turned away to hide your emotions. You felt a crushing weight on your chest, the realization that the man you had grown to care for deeply was bound by duty to another. 

Your voice was barely a whisper as you asked, "How long have you known about this?"

Alysanne's tone was sharp and cutting as she replied, "I've known for a while, but I wanted to meet you before the wedding. I wanted to see the foolish girl who thought she could steal Cregan away from his duty."

Your heart ached with a mixture of sadness and resignation. You had to accept the reality of the situation, no matter how much it hurt. 

Alysanne reached out with a mocking smile, but her touch was far from comforting as she placed her hand on your shoulder. 

"I know this must be difficult for you, Princess, as you are probably used to having whatever your heart desires. But you should have known better. Cregan was never yours to have."

Later that very same day, when the sun had begun to set over Winterfell, casting long shadows across the castle grounds, you were sitting alone on a stone bench, your thoughts consumed by the hurtful encounter with Lady Alysanne. You had been lost in your own misery when Cregan approached, his expression filled with concern.

"Princess, I heard about what happened with Lady Alysanne," Cregan began, his voice gentle. "I wanted to make sure you're all right."

Your heart ached at the sound of his voice, but you tried to ignore him, focusing on the setting sun instead. You couldn't bear to look at him, not now, not after everything that had transpired.

Cregan, undeterred by your silence, took a step closer, "Please, let me explain."

Your emotions, raw and uncontainable, finally burst forth. You turned to face him, eyes filled with tears, and voice trembling with pain. 

"Explain? You don't deserve to give me an explanation now, Cregan. Not after all that has happened between us."

Cregan's expression was one of genuine regret as he reached out to touch your arm, "Listen, please, just hear me out."

You couldn't bear to listen any longer. The words that had been building up inside you for so long spilled out in a rush. 

"You should have told me, Cregan. You should have told me that you were promised to another, that you could never belong to me. You should have told me before you kissed me under the stars, before you spun me around in gilded ballrooms. Before you made me hope for something that wasn't real."

Tears streamed down your face, and your voice broke as you continued. 

"I hate you, Cregan."

For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. Cregan's face showed a mix of pain and sadness, but he said nothing in response. You yearned for him to tell you that you were wrong. To tell you that you didn't hate him and that he certainly did not hate you and that he would be yours after all. 

He opened his mouth but no words came out. 

I love you.

The words were just on the tip of his tongue but he could not force them out. He could not be selfish enough to give you hope when he was bound by duty. 

There never lived a Stark who broke an oath.

That was what Cregan's father had always told him, and he wasn't about to be the first stark to do so. And so Cregan chose to remain silent and eventually, he walked away, leaving you surrounded by the shards of your broken heart. Your hands came up to muffle the broken sobs that escaped your lips and the tears that streaked down your face were a testimony to your lie. You could claim to hate him all you want but one did not mourn this much for someone they hated. 

You left the very next morning, after a hasty goodbye to the few people you had gotten to know during your stay at Winterfell and with a heavy heart, you directed your dragon toward your true home. You didn't think you could bear to watch him marry Lady Alysanne and it was better for you to leave now with at least some of your dignity intact. 

~ I hate you and I mean it. 

Several years had passed since the painful encounter with Cregan in the gardens of Winterfell. In the intervening years, much had changed. Your mother had taken the throne after the passing of your grandfather, King Viserys and you had been named her official heir. When news of a great war in the North reached the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra Targaryen, she saw an opportunity to strengthen her alliances and sent her two eldest children, you and Jace, to aid House Stark in the battle, accompanied by their dragons.

With the might of dragons at your side, the two of you made quick work of the war, helping to secure a decisive victory for the Starks. The sight of dragons soaring through the northern skies struck fear into the hearts of their enemies, and soon, the war was won.

In celebration of their triumph, House Stark held a grand feast in honour of the Targaryen siblings. The Great Hall of Winterfell was adorned with banners, and tables groaned under the weight of a sumptuous feast. Nobles from across the North had gathered to pay their respects to the Dragonriders.

You couldn't help but feel a strange mixture of emotions as you walked the familiar halls of Winterfell once more. The memories of your time here, both the joyful moments and the painful ones, flooded back to you. You had changed so much since then, and the scars of the past had faded but not entirely disappeared.

As you and Jace were introduced to the Northern lords and ladies, the atmosphere was one of jubilation and gratitude. The Starks were effusive in their praise, grateful for the Targaryens' aid in securing their victory.

You couldn't help but notice that Cregan was among those present, his gaze fixed on you. There was a tension in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the past and the wounds that still lingered. You had returned to Winterfell as a powerful figure, a dragon rider and an heir to the throne, but the history between you and Cregan remained.

The feast was a boisterous affair, with music and revelry filling the Great Hall. You watched as Cregan hovered about his wife almost constantly, his hand gentle on her protruding abdomen as he guided her about the room. 

As the feast at Winterfell continued, your shock deepened when you noticed a young boy running towards Cregan with gleeful abandon. The boy called out, "Father!" with pure excitement, and Cregan, with a warm smile, hoisted the child onto his shoulders. They paraded around the room, making their way through the nobles who cheered and greeted them.

You watched in disbelief as Cregan introduced the boy to the gathered lords and ladies, his paternal pride evident in every gesture. The sight of Cregan with the child sent a pang of bitterness and resentment through you. You knew that Cregan's marriage to Lady Alysanne had likely produced offspring, but seeing it firsthand was a painful reminder of what could never be between the two of you.

Finally, the little boy and Cregan reached you and Jace. The child's dark, pale freckled skin and dark curls were identical to Alysanne's, but it was his eyes that caught your attention. They were the very same stormy grey eyes that you had noticed on Cregan the first time you had met him.

Cregan introduced the boy with a proud smile. 

"This is my son, Rickon."

Cregan caught your eye and you caught a brief flash of regret pass through him before he schooled his expression into a pleasant grin. He turned back to his son, his face softening entirely as he gazed at him with adoration so tender that it speared right through your heart. 

I hate you, Cregen Stark. I hate you for finding happiness without me. I hate you for not fighting for me. I hate you for your stupid oaths and your stupid loyalties. I hate you. 

You were wise enough to keep your angry thoughts to yourself, but for the first time in your life, you found that you actually meant them. perhaps that made you a cruel and callous monster but you did not care. You hated Cregan Stark more than anything else and wondered, not for the first time, if you should have advised your mother against sending you to help out in the war. Still, you were your mother's daughter and if there was one person you loved with your entire heart, it was her. If helping the Starks win their war secured their support for your mother, then you would bury your heavy heart and do it for her. 

As the evening wore on, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on the festivities. The bitter taste of jealousy and regret lingered in your mouth, a constant reminder of the life that could have been but was now forever out of reach. Whatever Cregan thought of Alysanne, it was clear that he loved their children and very soon there would be even more to cherish if Alysanne's laboured breaths and swollen belly said anything. You couldn't escape the feeling that you were a stranger in a place that had once held such significance in your life. The years had changed you, and Winterfell had changed as well. There was no longer any room for you and you couldn't wait to return home. 

A/N: reblog and comment please, it really motivates me and I love reading yalls thoughts <3

#cregan stark #cregan x reader #cregan x you #cregan x y/n #cregan fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys targaryen #hotd #hbo house of the dragon #cregan stark x reader #house of the dragon #house targaryen #house of the dragon headcanon #house of the dragon aemond #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd headcanon #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #icarus ignite writes

[hankasventing]

okay im si scared. im si scared to say that. but just hear me out.

alastor is the one that will die.

no pLEASE DONT HURT ME JUST LET ME EXPLAIN!

like i love him too! i really really do! but thats suspicious innit? like i know were thinking angel or husk (mostly husk imo) BUT. now we know that alastor also is bound to someone (its lilith. lets say it together. ITS LILITH. okey doke thank you.) aaand well theyre being really mysterious about it.

it would be very heartbreaking for the viewer AND lets face it charlie whom we now know kind of sees alastor as a father figure (??). so it would play with our feelings in many ways and would influence us a lot.

and if he dies - husk is free.

after seeing valshits and alastors chains on angel and husk theres major difference, als are way stronger and detailed, while angel could still just kinda ignore em yk? so i think angel dust will be able to free himself, husk on the other hand well nope.

you see where im going with this right? please dont make me say it. alright ill say it. vivzie loves har gays. i dont think she has it in her to kill angel OR husk off she just loves them too much, the viewers love them to much. but does she love alastor as much? lets assume that he has a deal with lilith and she sent him to protect charlie. what if SOMETHING (not disclosing) happens to charlie?

just my theory please do not try and hunt me down heres a huskerdust fanfic as an apology. I WONT HANDLE WELL ANYONES DEATH. i hate getting hyperfixated on shit.

#huskerdust #vivienne when i catch you vivienne #viv please there still time for redemtion #vivzie please dont. #hazbin husk #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin analysis #hazbin theory #angel dust #hazbin hotel

[louroth]

It’s been a few days since I found Ouroboros and I… I just can’t stop thinking about it! 🥹I’d be going about my day and randomly start wondering what will happen next?? 👀 Who is the traitor?? What will they find?? Will Id ever be tangible again without armour?? The world you have created is truly unique and My GOD, the writing! I can’t remember crying so much over feelings I can’t really relate to irl. And I’ve been bawling my eyes out, reading scenes I've already read three times before! (you story might have broken me a little 🤣i love it!) And of course I have completely fallen in love with L, hook, line and sinker, wrapped around pinky, will burn down the whole damned world for them. No celestials, vicars or whatnot will stop my phlegmatic healer MC turned choleric on a warpath!

A certain line that really hurt and had me freeze for a moment like WHAT HAVE YOU SAID MC?? but it's kinda true tho... in the game made me wonder, and sorry if this has been asked before, I did scour the archive for more L content 😂, how would L react if MC died instead of them? Would they have ever retired like MC? Or would L still be with the hunters, or on their own, still searching? Would they have made the deal with Lena for answers?

Feel free to ignore if it’s too spoilery or anything! 🤗And sorry for the long message! I mostly just wanted to send you and your absolutely spectacular masterpiece IF some virtual love and admiration! Hope you have a wonderful week! 💞 *goes back to daydreaming of Leith every 10 minutes*

🥹 this ask is everything to me and I want to frame it. Thank you so much for your kind words & all the cool ideas you have!! OOF how I love the idea of swapping the hunters and L's positions. And instead of answering it (because I think they would act differently for every person that imagines it, because of how L is built as a character) I propose a playthrough where you ACTUALLY swap their spots in the story. Looks, name and everything.

Though, I can only imagine the fear and hatred and absolute agony L would go through, especially with the latest chapters. In my head, they haven't stopped grieving- it has become a part of them. They are changed, lonely, and can barely hold themselves together, no matter how much time passes. The hunter, whether lover or friend, was their person, the one they latched onto and just never let go, and still haven't. Even if the chance of them being alive is slim, they would go on this mission like a terminator with a singular goal, to find them or die trying.

I can't believe I haven't done a swapped playthrough before myself, or even thought of it! You have really given me something to chew on, and a fun experience for when I have to read through the demo for the millionth time again. Thank you :>

#OUROBOROS #ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #leith/custom #woaw im starry eyed @ this ask #and very curious in how a swapped playthrough would play out! i can't believe im actually giddy to read my own writing again skshdhdjdhd #it got to a point where I got very sick of it. guess all I needed was a perspective shift! #i am ABSOLUTELY normal about this ! (crawling on the cieling and howling at the moon but dont even worry abt that)

[deckerstarblanche]

Welcome to Chapter 1 of my CSSNS23 entry: “An Offer She Can’t Refuse”!

Huge thanks to @undercaffinatednightmare for the gorgeous art, and to @ultraluckycatnd for being the perfect hand-holding beta ❤️.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48705193/chapters/122860717

An Offer She Can’t Refuse

Chapter One

Emma was standing alone in her dorm’s communal kitchen area when it happened. The first sign of trouble was a prickling feeling from head to toe, causing her whole body to break out in goosebumps.

She was shaking a jumbo box of Milk Duds, impatiently waiting for her popcorn to finish popping so she could combine the two into her favorite salty sweet comfort snack.

The microwave dinged, so she ignored the fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead, calmly pouring the chocolate and caramel drops over the hot popcorn and watching it melt together into gooey goodness.

How is it possible to be both hot and cold at the same time? Emma wondered, willing herself to believe that it could just be a cold — just last month, she had missed out on a spring break trip with her girlfriends because of the flu — so she hurried back to her room, eager to get under the covers and chill out.

That evening, her friend Killian had come over for a long-awaited movie night, which they usually did as a foursome with their respective roommates, Mary Margaret and David. Their friends had been a couple all year, completely smitten since they met on the very first first weekend of the fall semester, and stayed glued at the hip ever since.

Luckily for Emma, they tended to have their sleepovers in David’s room; wherever Killian spent the night, she didn’t really want to know.

That particular evening they’d had to cancel, in order to answer nature’s call: David’s rut arrived three days earlier than expected. The college provided free, on campus Safe Houses for exactly this purpose, but their reservation system was fully booked, leaving them no choice but to pack quickly and speed over to his family’s nearby vacation cabin to ride it out. Emma helped her nervous, excited roommate pack that morning, lending her a large tote bag to fill with all of her most treasured comfort items: a baggy navy hoodie that David presented to her on the first blustery day of fall, a hand-sewn quilt passed down from mother to daughter for five generations, and a small fluffy pillow Emma got her as a birthday present. It was a sunny yellow (Mary Margaret’s favorite color), and had “What’s Up Buttercup?” printed on top.

So four became two, and since Killian won first film pick in a coin toss, that night’s selection was The Godfather.

Her sweaty shakiness had ebbed by the time Emma got back to her dorm room, and she sighed with a deep sense of relief. But when she opened the door to the 12x19 foot space that she and Mary Margaret called home, already dark and movie-ready except for the glow from Killian’s iPhone, she was hit by a wave of scent so intense that it made her feel weak in the knees. It was woodsy, grassy and musky, with a virile boost of testosterone. Despite her crappy mood, it calmed her, sweeping all of her stress away.

Calmed and aroused simultaneously, as it turned out. The air around her felt thick with masculinity, and Emma’s stomach swooped in anticipation.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

One of Storybrooke College’s biggest selling points was their commitment to making the finest education accessible for Alphas, Betas, and Omegas alike, regardless of designation and gender. Part of that promise involved the school's state-of-the-art filtration system, which neutralized the air in all of the co-ed facilities, including the dorms. The level of scent surrounding Emma shouldn’t have been detectable.

One of the reasons she had chosen this tiny liberal arts college, four hours away from her home in Boston, was so she could focus on her work and finish her undergraduate degree in three years. Emma had big goals: she wanted to become a Social Worker, focusing specifically on advocacy for foster kids who had the chance to avoid growing up like she did. If she intended to stay on track and on-budget (tiny schools weren’t cheap), she needed to keep her head on her work, and away from distractions.

That was why the situation she found herself in that night was so strange; after nearly a year spent living in that dorm, Emma had never picked up such a unique, personal scent other than her own, and damn it was good.

“About time you got back, Swan! I was going to start without— hey, are you alright?” Killian asked, sitting up on her bed as the grin on his face shifted to a concerned look. The deep, raspy timbre of his unused voice caused a shiver to race down Emma’s spine, almost making her drop the bowl. She ground her jaw shut, willing the ventilation system’s scent blockers to kick in.

“Yeah, it’s nothing… Please, just hand me my blanket and pillow backrest thingie, and you try my famous caramel chocolate popcorn,” she muttered, shoving the bowl into his lap in exchange for her stuff. He whined a little at the loss of her comfy bedding, but he knew better than to cross her about it.

Emma did not mess around when it came to pillows and blankets: last September, when the girls on her floor had a “best nest” competition, Emma and Mary Margaret won first place in a fierce competition by completely transforming their room into a scene from 1,001 Arabian Nights. They went all out, decorating the room with gauze-covered hanging lanterns, and nearly covering their floor with colorful lounging pillows and soft cushions. They even served Moroccan Mint tea in glass cups, poured from an authentic-looking tea set Mary Margaret borrowed from the theater department.

Climbing onto Mary Margaret’s bed, Emma cocooned herself in the huge fleece blanket and set her backrest against the wall, sighing peacefully as she sank against the support.

She tried not to notice how the blanket seemed to have absorbed that irresistible, masculine scent into its fibers, surrounding her and overwhelming her senses. But Emma knew she could hold steadfast against the urge to give in to her hormones. Back in high school, she spent too much time kissing frogs: worthless boys who thought dating an Omega meant that she’d be a submissive, sex-crazed robot.

If nothing else, those experiences made Emma Swan an expert at hiding her true feelings and stuffing them deep down inside.

The fact that her entire body was literally and figuratively burning with desire had nothing to do with Killian, who was an Alpha himself. From what she could see in the dark room, he was unaware of her meltdown. She just needed to get through the movie. If she could keep up the charade that all was well, she could see to her own needs once he was safely back on his side of the dorm.

Besides, Emma had heard enough chatter about Killian’s adventurous love life to know that she should steer clear. They had built a good friendship over the school year, and she valued it far too much to ruin things; exactly what would happen if she became another notch on his headboard.

While she couldn’t fully control her body’s reactions at the moment, her brain helpfully reminded her about what he’d told her back in September. Killian wasn’t looking to become a one-woman guy anytime soon, and Emma had no interest in being anyone’s plaything ever again. There was no reason that she couldn’t make it through tonight.

Somehow.

“Shall we watch, then? I still cannot believe you’ve only seen The Godfather once! That’s a bloody crime, Swan— you have to see it as many times as possible in order to really appreciate Coppola’s genius,” Killian quipped smugly, and she glared at the outline of him shaking his head and chuckling at her expense.

Good, she thought to herself. He hasn’t even noticed that I’m freaking out over here, and he doesn’t ever have to know. I can resist this...

“Yeah, ok, Roger Ebert. The deal was that if I watched the whole movie, you’d give the Milk Dud-melted popcorn a legitimate try, so eat up!” Emma sassed, trying to deflect attention from her shaky voice as he clicked through the dvd’s menu.

“You’ve certainly gotten the better end of the deal, love. This popcorn concoction of yours looks fucking disgusting. Do I really have to eat it?” he asked with an exaggerated groan, and Emma almost bit through her lower lip to keep herself from reacting to the sound.

The speed at which her symptoms intensified made Emma’s head spin. In a few short minutes, her world had shrunken down to fit on the head of a pin. The deep-seated Omega instincts within her screamed for what only an Alpha - or the perfectly good silicone toy hidden in her underwear drawer - could provide. Worse, it seemed like her hormones didn’t care if the guy in question was her best friend— as long as both partners were attracted and consenting, Killian had what she needed to get the release she craved.

“Oh, pardon me for sharing my grubby American snack food! You come from a place where they eat stewed tomatoes and animal intestines for breakfast, so do me a favor and shut up so I can concentrate on ‘really appreciating’ Coppola’s genius,” Emma drawled in a terrible impression of his accent, rolling her eyes. He just snickered and clicked the play button, scooping a handful of popcorn out of the bowl.

As the familiar opening music played, Emma focused intently on the screen. She wouldn’t think about the Alpha lounging on her bed, and how his presence was causing her heart to beat so fast that it felt ready to burst right through her chest, Aliens style. Nope, she wouldn’t let herself fall victim to the urges rippling through her body; it was too risky. She couldn’t lose him.

########

The Godfather really was Killian’s favorite movie, but he would’ve suffered through an 24 hour marathon of *The Three Stooges* if it gave him a chance to be alone with Emma Swan.

They had only known each other for a few short months, but from the moment they met — placed in a group together at freshman orientation last August — the two of them just clicked. When their brand new roommates got hot and heavy with each other that first weekend, they both found themselves banished to the common room on Emma’s floor, where they wound up talking for hours. It was one of those friendship-cementing, life-story-sharing bonding sessions that happen so often in college.

As the weeks flashed by, they settled into a reliable, platonic friendship. During their epic talk, Emma confessed that she was on a self-imposed vacation from relationships — a messy breakup with a Beta, some hometown loser called Neal — and to mask his disappointment, Killian embellished his 19 year-old teenager’s fantasy of being a ladies’ man.

He instantly regretted his words when her beautifully expressive face shut down, so he quickly changed the subject and cracked cheesy jokes to get a smile out of her. From then on, Killian made sure they never broached the topic again, and by the fall semester’s end, they had developed a platonic bond that he treasured far more than any hookup.

Of course, that didn’t mean he’d ever stopped wanting her.

Emma never had to know that she starred in his dreams every night, but Killian wasn’t sure she’d even care. At first, it really wounded his inner Alpha’s pride that she never seemed *into* him, but Emma was complicated like that: combative one day, and cuddly the next.

Besides, he could never stay away from her for long, especially when she drank just enough to get tipsy, and she’d snuggle into his side, sliding close enough to scratch her fingers through his hair. Pathetically, he lived for these brief intimate moments, when he could inhale her fruity shampoo and a wisp of her muted scent, imagining that she was his.

One thing was for certain: she wasn’t like other girls at school, nor was she like any other Omega Killian had known in his life. Emma Swan was in a class all her own, and full of contradictions: she possessed uncommon beauty and fierce intelligence, but she could be stubborn as a mule and prickly as a pineapple. By earning her trust, he’d become one of the few allowed to know that beneath her tough exterior beat an incredibly soft and generous heart. The more time he spent in her company, from late night diner study breaks to pre-party drinking sessions with their group of friends, the more enamored he became.

Most of their fellow freshmen were living away from home for the first time in their lives, so they were more than happy to unleash, experiment, and play. Killian, along with his buddies Rob, August, and Phillip, partied almost every weekend of the fall semester, and more often than he cared to admit, he’d wake up the next morning in a random girl’s bed.

That ladies’ man lie he’d told Emma had become his reality, but he didn’t feel good about it, and he was damn lucky he hadn’t called anyone by her name. Yet.

Since there were seemingly no secrets at Storybrooke College, when word spread that Killian Jones knew exactly how to please a lady, a legend was born all on its own.

All of that female attention, along with his self-proclaimed “dashing rapscallion” nature, had earned him admiration from fellow Alphas at SBC, but it was all a ruse. In private, he tried to keep a careful distance from the women he slept with, paying more attention to their satisfaction than his own, and never engaging with an Omega in heat. Part of him felt guilty, like he was leading them on; after all, it wasn’t their fault that was hung up on Emma Swan.

Killian was raised to always strive to be a man of honor, so he never promised anyone more than he could give.

So he waited, caught in a holding pattern between the undeniable pull of Alpha ego-stroking and his lovesick puppy dog feelings for Emma, unsure if she would ever return them. In the meantime, he contented himself with her friendship, hoping that eventually she’d see him in a different light.

######

For a solid half hour, everything was normal, and the Corleone family wedding unfolded on Emma’s small, battered tv screen like it always did. As the sequence ended with father and daughter waltzing to the movie’s theme music, Emma suddenly seized up with a burning pain deep in her pelvis. Struggling for breath, she tried to hide her discomfort by burrowing further into her blanket.

Immediately, the film paused and her tiny bedside light clicked on, illuminating Killian’s worried expression in the otherwise dark room.

“Swan? Are you alright over there?” he asked, and she tried to say something to reassure him, but another flash of pain made her dig her fingernails into her palms to keep from crying out. She couldn’t speak without sounding desperately needy, so she clamped her mouth shut and breathed through her nose.

Killian was aware that something was off about Emma from the minute she walked into the room that night, but now the problem was glaringly obvious: the ventilation in her room was on the fritz. Her sweet scent, usually muted by the system, beckoned— the sudden seismic jolt of lust that rolled over him meant that Emma was starting an intense heat phase. If he was truly her friend, and a man of honor, he’d get out of her way as soon as possible.

Why couldn’t he tear himself away, then?

Suddenly, Emma sat up with a shocked expression on her face. Her eyes squeezed shut and then she shook her head, as if she was trying to clear the fog from her brain.

“Shit, no wonder I’m feeling all out of whack…I left my pills in the bag I lent to Mary Margaret for the weekend!” Emma yelped with embarrassment, as a flush crept from her chest all the way up to her face. Quickly, the sweaty-shivering feeling was back, and it continued to increase in intensity right alongside a narrowing of her focus to one thing: Alpha.

“I don’t mean to pry, love, but are those pills of yours suppressants?” Killian asked her gently, and even though she was purposefully looking away, she could still feel his gaze burning into her.

“Um, I’m not exactly sure? I’ve been taking them since I was 13, and I was too embarrassed to ask anyone at the group home — even the doctor who gave them to me — about woman-type stuff. I never missed a dose before!” Emma admitted, feeling flustered and ridiculous.

She sucked in a breath when it dawned on her: the medicine she thought she was only taking to regulate her cycle had also dramatically reduced the intensity of her quarterly heats for the past six years. Most of the other Omega girls at school constantly complained about symptoms and urges that drove them mad, but Emma figured she was just lucky.

Apparently not. How could she have been so clueless?

“Six years? That’s an awfully long time, Emma. Maybe you should call the health center, you know, check in with them about side effects and erm…” he trailed off, his face heating up as he searched his brain for the right words.

She shifted uncomfortably on her roommate’s bed, full of nerves in Killian’s presence. Most of their guy friends were Alphas too, but Emma didn’t usually give it much thought. David was around so often that she considered him more of a brother figure, or an extension of Mary Margaret. It was similar to her neutral feelings about Rob, or August, or any of the other guys in their circle; they were only friends, nothing more.

“Ugh Jones, you know I don’t like that place! The doctor over there is always so creepy,” Emma deflected with a pout, pulling her hair up into a messy bun.

With Killian, everything had always been different, in the best way. Emma wanted to be with him: they could spend hours in each other’s company, talking about anything under the sun without getting bored, or just studying together in comfortable silence. Now that she thought about it, she was always happier when he was around, more open and affectionate than she’d been with anyone else in her life.

It wasn’t until tonight that Emma knew she’d have no problem letting him help her through this little hiccup in her cycle.

At the same time, he was probably the closest thing she’d ever had to a best friend, other than Mary Margaret. They just understood each other. How could she ever risk that friendship over something as trivial as sex?

But oh…imagining what it would be like to be together in that way, sharing that physical and emotional connection with him, made her tremble with a heightened sense of anticipation. She needed him to quench the flames rising inside of her.

Unbidden, an image of them in bed, sweaty and sated and intimately tied together, formed in her mind.

It was simple biology: Statistically, Alphas and Omegas had the best chance of conceiving children together. Omegas were born with enhanced fertility, and when combined with a natural lock binding them together (aka: an Alpha’s knot) was Mother Nature’s way of stacking the deck.

Advances in birth control made it possible for couples to decide when they wanted to have children, but no method was guaranteed. Emma didn’t want to leave anything to chance, so dating Beta men exclusively was her way of decreasing biology’s advantage.

With such a jumble of thoughts crowding her brain, Emma almost missed that her sharpened sense of smell picked up another pheromone overload in the room.

Could it be possible that he felt the same way about her?

She licked her lips at the thought of kissing him for real, causing her gut to clench. What would it be like to be with him? Emma played it out in her mind; surely it would be more than satisfying. From the gossip she’d heard, Killian was a sure bet, always knowing what women wanted. What would his hands feel like on her body? His presence loomed large in the tiny room, and it took all of her self control not to jump onto her bed and kiss the hell out of him.

How would he react? She had a feeling she would soon find out.

####

“Earth to Emma! Will you say something, please?” Killian asked, the alarm in his voice pulling her out of her reverie. At some point during her freakout, he had crossed the twelve feet of space between the beds and pulled out her roommate’s desk chair, sitting close by but not invading her space. Emma was instantly relieved by the gesture, reminding herself that Killian was the guy she’d grown to depend on, not some brute who only saw a sweet-smelling Omega he could use to satisfy his basest urges.

“I’m scared, Killian,” she admitted, feeling so hot and sweaty that she had to force herself to unwrap the blanket from her body. “This has never happened to me before! What if I can’t control myself, or some random Alpha picks up on what’s going on, and he tries to force me to — ugh, I don’t know! Maybe I should call Mary Margaret, and see if I can just pick up my pills from her,” she fretted, twisting a corner of the fleece in her grip nervously.

“I understand,” he soothed, interrupting her anxiety spike. “You’ve got to breathe, though, because you're going to hyperventilate if you keep this up. Can you do that for me first, Swan?”

Emma listened to him, closing her eyes and taking a few deep breaths. Soon enough, her heartbeat slowed back to its regular rhythm, and even though the warm hand he’d tentatively placed on her back sent electric sparks down her spine, his reassuring touch made her feel safe and grounded.

Once he was sure that the worst had passed, Killian began to speak again, unsure of how she’d react.

“The trouble is, Emma, that David and Mary Margaret are about an hour’s drive from here. If you still want to go and get your pills, I’m happy to drive you. But if you’d rather stay here and ride it out, I’ll say it right now: I won’t leave you unprotected,” Killian told her bluntly. Emma looked utterly confused until her muffled brain picked up his meaning. She was livid.

“Oh, are you going to stand outside my door and defend my honor? Believe me, I can handle myself just fine, Jones,” she seethed, spitting his name out like poison as she launched herself to her feet. He watched, speechless as she tugged on the doorknob, exposing their private little world to the whitewashed concrete and fluorescent-lit hallway.

“I think you should just leave for a little while.”

He flinched at her cold tone, but Killian had enough sense to risk trying to dominate her. Clearly, Emma needed her space — he knew she’d want to get back in full control of herself as soon as possible — but there wasn’t a chance in hell that he’d stand by and watch her drive alone, especially in her disoriented state.

It didn’t help matters that they’d been in her room for a while, so he was completely surrounded by Emma’s lovely scent, which had always reminded him of the summer sun, mixed with sweet melon and tart strawberries. That night, it had a more sensual, muskier edge than he was used to, so instead of feeling happy and comfortable like he usually did in her presence, he could barely resist the urge to bury his face in her neck.

In general, Killian was pretty confident in his ability to control himself, but he had no idea how much longer he could physically stand being in the same room with Emma that night. His purely Alpha desire to possess and mark her could send them spiraling down a friendship-ending path.

“If that’s what you really want, I’ll go,” he said quietly, lifting himself up off Emma’s bed. He waited for her to say something, but she just gestured toward the door, her green eyes unreadable.

“I’d really appreciate that, at least for a little while,” she admitted, and the shaky breathiness in her voice both raised his protective hackles and sent a jolt of lust surging through his blood.

He needed to leave the room.

“Of course, Swan. I won’t go far, so if you need anything, just text or call and I’ll come right back. And if you decide that you’d like to drive out, just say the word and I’ll pick you up, ok?” he assured her calmly as he walked through the open door, even though his insides were churning with nervous energy. She just nodded, sagging against the wall. Her eyes were glassy, like she’d been drugged.

Killian had been with enough women of Emma’s type to know that when they got that glazed look, their instincts could overrule their rational brains at any time. There had to be at least a hundred other Alphas in their dorm alone, and he knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill any one of them if they dared to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state.

He needed to call Elsa, and quickly.

———-

The phone seemed to ring forever, and by the time someone picked up the line, Killian was practically tearing his hair out.

“Little brother, why are you calling so late? Everything alright?” Liam’s voice, usually so welcome to his ears, sounded like nails scraping against chalkboard to someone as keyed up as Killian was at that moment.

“I’m fine, just put me on with your wife. Please,” he begged through gritted teeth, hating the pathetic cracking in his voice.

“You don’t sound fine,” Liam observed casually, as if he was across the room and not 3,000 miles away. “Are you on drugs?”

“LIAM! I called Elsa, not you. If she’s there, put her on the bloody phone,” he growled. Moments later, his sister-in-law’s calming voice came onto the line.

“Killian? Tell me what’s wrong,” she soothed, and the buildup of adrenaline began to drain from his bloodstream as fast as it had rushed in, leaving him feeling depleted and foolish. He sagged down onto a park bench, head in his hands as he cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear.

“Elsa, I need your advice. I have a very close friend who needs my help, you know? Problem is, she’s a skittish lass, and I don’t know if I can give her what she needs without ruining the friendship. On the other hand, the thought of anyone else touching her makes me feel sick. What should I do?”

A soft chuckle floated across the line, and he exhaled with relief, knowing that Elsa needed no further explanation.

“Well, it sounds like you care about this girl quite a lot. We’re talking about your friend Emma, right?” Elsa guessed, the gentle teasing in her voice already helping to calm his anxiety.

“Yes, h-how did you know?” he asked, his voice stuttering in disbelief.

“Besides the fact that Emma is the only woman I’ve ever heard about for the entire time you’ve been at school? If your roles were reversed, and she offered to help you through a rut, would you take the risk?”

Killian didn’t even need to think about his answer. “In a bloody second! It would be amazing, but I already know that I’m mad for her. Emma hasn’t ever wanted anything but friendship from me, and it feels an awful lot like I’d be taking advantage.” he told his sister-in-law, as his heart pounded with uncertainty.

“Killian, I know that time is of the essence here, so I’ll be crystal clear: Calm down, give Emma the space to decide what she wants, then follow her lead! Trust me, her reaction will clear up any questions about where you stand in her mind. It doesn’t sound to me like she’s going to freeze you out,” she assured him, and after thanking Elsa profusely and apologizing again for calling them so late, he hung up.

Almost immediately, his phone buzzed with a new text from Emma:

*I’m really sorry for kicking you out. If you’re still ok with driving up to David’s place, then I’d like to go with you.*

Killian clutched the phone in his hand, almost giddy at the thought of finally being free to kiss and touch and care for Emma the way she deserved. Self doubt still plagued his soul, and he knew that getting this close to her without knowing how she felt about him was a gamble, but it was his choice. The privilege of being there for Emma was its own reward, and it would be worth the risk.

####

As his truck barreled down the uneven road that marked the final leg of their journey to David’s cabin, Killian winced every time the rocky terrain made Emma gasp or cry out in discomfort. He couldn’t read her expression since she was still curled up in her fleece cocoon, but each agonizing sound tore into his soul.

Killian knew how simple it would be for him to relieve her pain, but he was still worried that she’d interpret that offer as a violation of their friendship, and hate him for even suggesting such a thing.

“I’m so sorry, love. We’ll be there soon, I promise,” he assured her, reaching his right hand out to give her what was meant to be a comforting squeeze. The moment his hand made contact with her blanketed body, with the cool touch of his fingers so close to her heated skin, Emma tore the blanket away, breathing heavily. Her blonde hair floated around her like a gorgeous mess, her skin was flushed crimson, and the look in her eyes nearly made him slam on the brakes in the middle of the road.

“Killian, you’ve got to pull over, right now!” she heard herself tell him, but her voice sounded like it was detached from her being. The strange, searing pain actually freed her from all inhibitions, leaving her in a puddle of feelings and primal urges that blew common sense right out the window.

All she knew for sure was that Killian was right there, and he was all she could think about. The way their scents mingled together in the truck’s cabin caused all of her other senses to light up, like she was a fuse ready to blow at any second.

“What’s wrong, love? Need some fresh air?” Killian asked as he pulled off to the side of the road and turned on the hazard lights. He knew that she probably felt extremely vulnerable, but had no idea what was going on inside that head of hers.

He did not expect to see Emma sizing him up with that lusty Omega stare, her eyes blazing a brilliant shade of green. The sight made him gasp in astonishment, a sound that he tried, unsuccessfully, to cover with a cough.

Emma spoke in a clear, confident voice.

“Killian, listen to me. I’ve been trying to ignore or will these feelings away, but every cell in my body is telling me exactly how to take care of the pain. It’s telling me that I need you…Alpha,” she admitted. Her voice shook as she used his title for the first time.

Her words stoked a fire in his belly that could easily turn into an inferno.

Killian hadn’t expected to hear her say those words…ever. He put the car back in drive, veering further off from the track-marked road, and parked. As the engine idled, Killian squeezed his eyes shut, wracking his brain for a solution that didn’t end with him giving into temptation. *This isn’t some random hookup, it’s Emma. If she was in her right mind, this wouldn’t be happening, mate* he told himself, cracking his eyes open as he took a deep breath to get his wits about him.

It wasn’t his best idea. The sweet scent from her heat had intensified, awakening a primal instinct in his brain and making his head swim with lust. He shifted in his seat, instantly hard as a rock. When she looked at him, he could tell that she knew exactly what he was thinking. Emma just smirked as she licked her lips.

“You can feel it too, can’t you, Alpha? I know you want me…I can practically taste it in the air. I want you too,” Emma told him breathlessly, in what was probably the most seductive whisper he’d ever heard.

“I’m honored that you’d consider me worthy of that kind of trust, Emma, truly,” he said gently, taking one of her hands in his and threading their fingers together.

“But are you certain? Completely sure?” Killian’s voice, while still quiet, sounded raspy and more urgent, like he was ready to do anything she desired of him.

“Yeah,” she breathed, nodding, and before he knew it, Emma had unlocked her seatbelt and closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to his for the first time. Her lips were softer than he could have ever imagined, and their mouths fit together as perfectly as he had always hoped they would. Adorably, she still tasted like popcorn and chocolate.

By the time they pulled apart for air, Emma had somehow straddled the console, getting halfway across and into his lap. They were pressed even closer together by the truck’s oversized steering wheel.

With a growl, Killian wrenched the seat back an extra couple of inches and lifted her the rest of the way, touching his forehead to hers as their breathing slowed.

“I guess we don’t need to bother David and Mary Margaret after all!” Emma giggled, brushing her hair out of her face before setting her hands on his shoulders.

“Trust me, they wouldn’t want to see what I have in store,” Killian replied with a devilish grin, reaching for her yet again. Their kisses grew deeper, and Emma raked her fingers through his hair while Killian’s hands roamed over every square inch of her body that he could reach, squeezing her ass with a satisfied groan. She responded by grinding herself against his lap, looping her arms around his neck as she went faster.

“Please…oh God, I want to come. Touch me, talk to me,” she moaned against him, bucking her hips faster to increase the friction. He nodded, kissing her exposed neck all the way up to a spot behind her ear that he had already chosen as his favorite.

“You’re so fucking beautiful like this, Emma…I can’t wait to see you fall apart,” he whispered harshly against her ear, sliding his palm up her thigh and under her shorts before slipping two fingers into her heat, pumping and curling them in rhythm with her gyrations. She felt so perfectly tight and wet with slick that he had to restrain himself from rutting against her, choosing instead to press his nose against the flesh of her throat, breathing her in while focusing on her body. Emma mewled with pleasure, clawing her fingers across his back.

“Yes…Keep talking, Alpha, please!” she urged, riding his fingers in the narrow space.

“Feeling you against me makes me want to rip all your clothes off... I can see it right now, you naked and writhing against me while I’m deep inside you, filling you up. Is that what you want, Omega? Because I want you, have always wanted you, so badly…” he rasped, and she exploded seconds later, clenching hard against his fingers and coating them in her essence. She was unrestrained, shouting his name and his title as she shivered and shook in his arms.

It took a while for Emma to float back down to reality, so while she rested, he gently withdrew his fingers and licked them clean, unable to resist getting a taste of her sweetness. As she came back to herself, she could feel the soft press of Killian’s lips against her collarbone, near the scent gland all Omegas had right under the skin. It felt like the gland itself pulsed with its own energy, and when Emma pressed her fingers there, the whole patch of skin was raised and surprisingly fiery to the touch.

“Killian, I don’t know what’s going on! Feel here— it’s really hot, so be careful,” she fretted anxiously, cringing when he touched the pad of his index finger gently against her skin.

Instead of freaking out, he just waggled his eyebrows and flashed her a cheeky smile. But when the fear in her eyes didn’t go away, Killian’s expression softened.

“All that it means, Emma, is that your system is functioning exactly as it’s supposed to,” he told her, stroking her cheek. She smiled and nuzzled into his touch, but as she tipped forward to kiss him, the slight shift of her weight in his lap caused a deep groan to rumble up from Killian’s throat.

“Shit! I’m so sorry, Killian, I was caught up in the moment and I didn’t think-” she started to apologize, guilt written across her face.

“It’s not a problem, love. I’m the one helping you, so I’ll likely not go without,” he teased, and the look on his face — a bit of sheepishness disguised by a rogue’s smile — made Emma giggle, sighing with relief.

“That’s very true, although I might have put it a little differently!” Emma chided him with a playful smack on his chest, and they grinned dopily at each other, hair hopelessly mussed, and still reeling from the high of their new bond.

“So, while you’re still sated and lucid, we should talk about where we’re going to spend the next couple of days,” Killian suggested, reaching past her to grab his phone from the console. Feeling a bit self conscious now that the urgency had passed, Emma gave him a peck on the lips and scrambled back over to her seat.

“Killian, are you crazy? You can’t just drop everything for me!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Of course I can, Swan!” Killian scoffed, but when he looked up from his phone, the welling of tears in her eyes reminded him of how vulnerable she was feeling and how big a step this was for them both. “To be there with you, to aid you, would be my honor.”

She smiled, pressing her lips together as a rosy blush bloomed on her cheeks.

He reached over, taking her hand in his. “Emma, unless you send me away I will always be by your side, whenever you need me. Please, don’t ever doubt that,” he told her, bringing her knuckles to his lips without breaking their eye contact. She held his gaze, nodding as a shy smile played across her lips.

“I won’t, I promise,” she said quietly, almost in a whisper, but an intrusive chiming sound sent her scrambling for her purse. Killian was dying to know who had interrupted them, but not wanting to seem overprotective — even though his skin practically itched with the desire to knock the phone out of her hand, carry her into the back of his truck, and claim her as his own — he turned his attention back to his online search.

“Oh, it’s Mary Margaret! Guess the reception in this area isn’t so bad after all, buddy,” she teased, gently poking him in the ribs with her elbow. He grunted in reply, her light touch reigniting the spark of desire he no longer had to hide from her.

“She said that she’s got my stuff, and that we can come right over. What do you think?” Emma asked, her tone sounding conflicted.

“Honestly, I’d rather keep you right here, and preferably much closer,” he teased, squeezing her thigh with a wicked grin. “But will you need your pills for any, ahem, more amorous pursuits?”

Emma snorted at his euphemism, like she always did when teasing him about using big fancy words.

“Amorous pursuits, huh? No, I have an IUD for that, but I’ve never been off those pills,” she said, furrowing her brow as she thought it over. “But if they’re meant to suppress, wouldn’t they mute the things I’m feeling now too? I don’t think I want to go back, not if it means giving this up,” Emma said saucily, taking a moment to tap out a quick reply to her roommate before grabbing his face and pulling him toward her for the most aggressive kiss she had ever given anyone, tangling her tongue with his, and catching his lower lip with her teeth so she could nip it playfully.

Giving herself over to the desire to possess him, like he was hers, seemed to unlock an entirely new world to explore. Every touch and kiss felt more intense, and knowing that he trusted her enough to let her play, testing his boundaries, was more of a turn-on than either of them expected. “Did you know that this truck has a fully collapsible backseat?” Killian told her, sounding absolutely wrecked when they pulled apart to catch their breath. Emma chuckled, running her fingers through his already messy hair.

“Exactly what kind of girl do you think I am, Jones?” she asked wide-eyed, pulling herself out of his embrace. Killian opened his mouth to reply, but all words flew out of his mind when Emma rose up to kneel on her seat, reaching back to unclasp her bra. He watched, entranced, as the white straps began to slip down her shoulders.

“I think,” he began slowly, choosing his words carefully as he hooked his thumbs through each strap, tugging them the rest of the way down her arms as she gasped. “I think that I’m one lucky bastard to have such a sexy, gorgeous woman in my truck. And you’ve got your Alpha all alone in the woods, willing and ready to do your bidding. That means you should feel free to share every dirty little desire you can imagine, so that I can do whatever it takes to keep you satisfied,” he told her huskily, gratified to see her shiver.

Emma just stared at him hungrily, letting her bra drop down onto the seat. Her white tank top left barely anything to the imagination; it was just a flimsy piece of nearly sheer cotton that barely concealed her taut nipples, straining against the fabric as they were.

“Like my own personal, hmm...boy toy?” she teased, leaning against the console on her elbows to give him an eyeful of her cleavage. His jaw slackened at the sight of her heaving chest, all of that flushed, soft skin pushed up by her forearms.

He wanted to bury his face right there and her smirk confirmed that she knew it, so he raised one cocky eyebrow. “I assure you, love, I am anything but a boy…”

She chuckled, hopping into the back and beckoning for him to join her. Emma barely had time to grab her blanket to spread over the backseat before he opened the door and lunged for her, nearly ripping her top and shorts off in his urgency to feel more of her. She yelped, dragging him forward so he could shut the back door and release whatever mechanism was responsible for flattening the backseat rests. They toppled back with a bang, and Killian clutched her to his chest, an overwhelming instinct to protect her overriding every other thought in his head.

“Killian, it’s starting to hurt again,” she whimpered, looking at him with wide eyes full of desire and fear. He couldn’t help himself, bending his head to kiss her gently, trying to chase away even a fraction of her discomfort.

“Don’t worry, love,” he murmured tenderly, helping her to lie down comfortably before shucking his shirt and jeans off and throwing them into the front seat. “Just let me take care of you first, and then we’ll decide what happens next together, yeah?”

She nodded as he settled next to her, silently placing her trust in his hands as she cupped his face in hers. The look in her eyes caused his heart to swell with pride, but the jumble of anticipation and nerves made him freeze up for a moment, unsure of what to do first. Luckily, Emma acted on instinct, parting her thighs and panting his name, and Killian was drawn in like a magnet, tangling his fingers in her hair as he kissed her. Tongues dueling for control, their kisses grew frantic and he pressed even closer, groaning at the feeling of her breasts pressed against his bare chest.

“You’re so warm, Alpha. I want you inside me so badly…” she crooned, hooking her thigh over his hip, her desire to be joined clear from the slick that soaked through her underwear to run freely between her thighs. Killian clenched his jaw, trying to hang on to a scintilla of control instead of mindlessly plowing into her. That thread snapped when she reached into his boxers and stroked his cock with a firm grip, tugging the cotton down his hips with her free hand.

“This belongs to me now,” she rasped, continuing to pump his length as she swiped her thumb over the sensitive tip, smirking triumphantly when he shook with a groan he was too far gone to suppress.

“Bloody fuck, Omega, you’re impossible to resist a second longer..” he growled possessively, and with one last nod from her, he ripped her underwear from her body and eased his way inside her, filling her up until they were both left cursing and gasping with relief.

“Oh my God, this is perfect. You feel so perfect,” Emma purred contentedly as unexpected tears gathered in her eyes. Eager to get even closer, she locked her ankles against his lower back, using her legs to draw him in just a little deeper.

“You…you’re the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met, Emma,” he breathed, wiping a few errant tears off her cheeks. He shifted his hips experimentally within the limited range of motion he had available. Every slight movement had her making the most delicious sounds, lubricating his cock in her impossibly warm depths.

Killian wasn’t quite sure if she was holding him in like that for physical or emotional reasons, so he guessed it was probably a mix of the two. Since he had promised to be there for whatever Emma needed, it didn’t matter; he didn’t intend to let her down.

“There’s something I never told you,” she whispered after a few moments had passed, unwinding her ankles and letting her knees fall open. A simple roll of her hips told him that it was ok to start moving, but he kept his thrusts shallow, enjoying the sweetness of her scent and the press of her skin against his.

“You can me anything,; I’m right here, Omega,” he assured her, pressing their foreheads together as their bodies rose and fell in rhythm. The fact that she was letting him care for her this way meant so much more than he could have ever imagined.

Emma began her confession haltingly, trying to find the right words. “It’s just that, well— I’ve never been knotted before. I never wanted it before, but… but with you, it’s like I need it, desperately,” she admitted, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Look at me, Emma, please,” he croaked, going still inside of her. When their eyes locked, he kissed her, gently biting her bottom lip when he pulled away. He began moving again, lengthening his strokes as he gradually increased their pace.

“There is nothing I want more than to give that to you, love, but not in the truck,” he told her, almost apologetically. “I’ve never experienced anything like this before, honestly. Maybe it’s because of you and your insatiable need, hmm….”

She whimpered, grinding her pelvis against his. Her fingers threaded through his hair as she kissed him deeply, eventually dragging him down closer to her chest.

Eagerly, he kissed his way across the valley between her breasts, biting down on a stiff nipple with each pass. His worship of her body nearly drove Emma over the edge again, her pants turning into staccato cries as she thrashed beneath him.

“Fuck, your tits are perfect, just like the rest of you…” he muttered, lowering himself to his forearms so he could squeeze each one, sucking her nipples and gently biting the rounded flesh like he wanted to brand her with his mark.

“Harder, I can take it… I’m so, so close, Alpha!” she cried out, gripping his biceps so hard that her fingernails nearly cut into his skin.

Killian grunted, using the pain to help him concentrate on pounding into her like she wanted, while trying to stave off his knot.

He didn’t want her first experience of that particularly mind-numbing pleasure to happen in the backseat of his truck.

“Are you gonna come for your Alpha? Show me how hard you can squeeze my cock,” he rumbled, feeling his orgasm start to build as a gush of her slick coated his base.

“Ohmigod…Alpha…YES!!” Emma screamed, clamping down tight on his cock as she launched into the stratosphere, her orgasm last longer than she’d ever experienced before.

He followed with a shout moments later, filling her up with his release as her aftershocks fluttered against his sensitive skin.

“Killian, that was amazing,” Emma purred as he rolled to the side, scooping her into his arms. She had a wide, lazy smile on her face as she burrowed tightly against his side, scratching her fingers through his chest hair.

“I think we make quite the team,” he told her fondly, kissing the top of her head. He let his head fall back onto the blanket, looking up at the truck’s ceiling. “I can hardly wait to get you into a nice big bed, and show you all of the other ways I can get you to come.”

The way his voice lowered seductively sent a surge of arousal straight to her core. Emma felt a wave of slick dampen her thighs, surprised that she could want his body again so soon.

“Where should we go? I want to have you again, already — maybe in the shower…” she suggested, grabbing his wrist and brushing his fingers against her brand new wetness.

Killian groaned when he felt the slick between her thighs, almost thrown into a mindless sex haze himself at the thought of how full of their combined releases her channel was.

He allowed himself the indulgence of slipping one finger into her dripping center, dying to find out what they tasted like together.

“We’re so fucking good together, Omega, just like I knew we would be — tastes like nectar from the gods. Take a taste, then we’re getting dressed. There may be an available room back at school by now.” he told her, gently slapping her ass before they sat up.

Emma grabbed his finger and drew the tip into her mouth, sucking experimentally.

She’d given a couple of blowjobs to Neal back in high school, and she remembered swallowing quickly, disliking the bitter aftertaste.

With Killian, she was sure it’d be much better, and she was right; the fluid was sweet and pleasantly salty, like the ocean on a sunny day. She darted her tongue out, and was licking his finger clean when she caught a glimpse of him staring at her, transfixed.

“You’re a real minx, aren’t you, Swan? C’mere,” he beckoned, his lopsided grin making her feel warm inside.

Emma shuffled a few inches over on her knees, and was rewarded with a passionate, mind-numbing kiss. It left her in a daze, accepting the clothes he handed her and dressing herself like her brain was on autopilot.

#####

***CHAPTER 2 COMING SOON***

Thanks and hugs to my CSMM enablers 😏

Tag list (happy to add or delete on request): @kmomof4, @undercaffinatednightmare @ultraluckycatnd @jrob64 @justanother-unluckysoul @jonesfandomfanatic @caught-in-the-filter @hollyethecurious @holdingoutforapiratehero @mie779 @booksteaandtoomuchtv @the-darkdragonfly @sailtoafarawayland @djlbg @eddisfargo

#cssns23 #cs ff #cs au #captain swan #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #a/b/o universe #ouatedit #cs fanfic #cs smut #best friends to lovers #alpha!killian #omega!emma #no werewolves #some angst #cs whump #happily ever after

[prettybillycore]

We Can All be A Little Less Lonely | harringrove x reader [1/2]

Summary: Y/n Henderson is the older sister of Dustin and is a bit of an awkward high schooler. She's dating Jonathan, and from the outside, everything seems fine. But, in reality, you two don't get along. Will your relationship survive between your long-time crush on Steve Harrington and the new boy who's come to town, Billy Hargrove?

Pairing(s):

Steve Harrington/Reader/Billy Hargrove (harringrove x Henderson!reader)

Minor Jonathan/Reader

Minor Jonathan/Nancy

Word Count: 12.2k (Ik I went overboard)

Rating: Teen

Warnings:

- Canon Typical Violence

- the use of the word queer

- Possessive!Billy

- mentions of cheating

- Cigarettes

- alcohol/drunkness

- only about half-beta-ed as of the publishing date, but as I have more free time I'm going to correct like my random comma splices, for now, please forgive them.

⬇️ Read on AO3 ⬇️

OR

right here on tumblr :3

There were three boys. They had all come into your life in different ways and had absolutely taken over your life—some for better, and some for worse. As a Henderson, you were shocked that you had gotten yourself into this mess.

Steve Harrington had been your longtime crush. You had become aware of the boy during your freshman year of high school. You were introverted like Johnathan and ended up gravitating toward him instead, even though Steve had caught your eye. He gave you the good kind of anxiety; the butterflies in your stomach, their smile makes you want to throw up sort of anxiety. You saw Steve as out of your league and didn’t get your hopes up that he would ever see you as anything other than a girl his friends bully. Besides, he started dating Mike’s sister Nancy. You felt like she was everything you wished you were. You felt like you couldn’t compete with her in any department. You were happy with your friend group and knew that Steve was probably an asshole just like the rest of them, but there was something about him that profoundly sparked your curiosity, though. You did your absolute best to ignore it, though. You had bigger things to worry about than your stupid crush on Steve Harrington.

By the end of your freshman year, you were dating none other than Jonathan Byers . He was kind, and your relationship was simple. His smile didn’t make your stomach do flips, but you thought his face looked adorable when he was at peace. His mom and brother loved you; from the outside, your relationship was absolutely perfect. On the inside, though, you two fought a lot. You wanted very different things in life, and at the first sign of stress, he’d shut you out. Will’s disappearance, the discovery of the Upside Down, and the appearance of Eleven were slowly breaking down your relationship. You both persisted on like everything was fine, but your brothers both knew it wasn’t. The Party had a pool on how long it would be before the two of you split up.

When Billy Hargrove came to town, you knew you were doomed. He was smug, silly, and good-looking. He was everything you were told to stay away from, and at first, you did. However, as time went on, you knew you were in trouble. It only took a week before the first butterflies hit your stomach. Billy and his little sister Max (who your brother wouldn’t admit he had a crush on, but he did) arrived in his Camaro. You were sitting on the hood of Jonathan’s car, and Billy tossed a wink in your direction. You showed nothing on your face; you gave him no satisfaction in your response. Your stomach was completing its own roller coaster track inside your body, but all you did was give him a deadpan stare and raise your eyebrow. Fuck, that’s the same feeling as Steve. Billy turned away from you, but that was when he became infatuated.

Jonathan removed his hand from the small of your back. Billy may not have seen through your expression, but Jonathan sure as hell did. “Really, Y/n?”

“What?”

“Him? He’s only been here like a week, and I can already tell he uses girls. He has sex with them and tosses them out. Why would you ever be interested in him?”

You rolled your eyes and leaned your chin on your hand, using it to support your head. “Oh, please, Johnathan. I don’t have any interest in him. I can tell he’s a douchebag. Besides, I’m dating you, aren’t I?”

“We both know I’m not your normal type, and that you can like multiple people.”

You huffed. You regret deeply ever expressing to Johnathan that you had feelings for Steve. He was very could with you being queer and polyamorous; he just asked for your relationship to be monogamous. You were cool with that, and you were glad you were honest with him about your sexuality, but you loathed yourself for mentioning your long-time crush on Steve. Whenever he was mad at you, he brought up that he was not your typical type, and if you had the chance, you would dump him for Steve… or someone like Billy. “Uncool, Johnathan. I would never cheat on you. We’re monogamous and I’m chill with that. I literally didn’t even blink when Billy winked at me.”

He sighed deeply, “whatever love, I’m gonna drop it. Just don’t turn your back on me, yeah?”

| < ♥️ > |

By Halloween, your relationship with Jonathan was crumbling. Your brother kept checking with you to see if you and Will’s older brother were still together. Every day you said yes and it seemed to genuinely surprise Dustin. It was clear neither of you were happy in your relationship, but it also seemed that neither of you were willing to admit that fact.

You were supposed to be spending Halloween trick-or-treating with the party + max, but Jonathan waved you to his car when you all met up. “You want to go to that house party?”

“Huh? Who’s going to watch the kids?”

“They can handle themselves for a night, they aren’t really kids anymore! Besides, we can go see, you know, people our age .” The way he phrased it gave you the ick, but you agreed and hopped in his car.

It didn’t take long before you two arrived at the party and you were immediately overwhelmed. It was loud, cramped, and the smell of alcohol was putrid. Nancy smiled at you and pulled Steve close behind her to meet you in the middle of the room. She opened her arms wide to hug you; it was the first time she had ever done that. She had always been sweet to you, but you hadn’t been close since you were little kids. It took you by surprise, and the drink she had in her hand splattered slightly on your back. You leaned in, and you could smell the alcohol on her breath. Your nose crinkled up at the scent, but you patted her on the back and tossed her a soft smile when she pulled away. You all had been through a lot; it was no surprise that she’d want a drink when one was offered. “Hey! I didn’t think you two were coming?” She asked.

Jonathan shrugged. “Change of plans.”

“Yeah…” You sighed. This was going to be such a long night. Why did I let Jonathan convince me that this was a good idea?

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be seeing you both around the party. Try to have some fun tonight; you’re normally both such squares,” Steve teased. He playfully tapped Jonathan on the shoulder.

You giggled, but Jonathan just rolled his eyes. “I think we’ll be staying sober, but we’ll still probably find a way to have some fun.”

Jonathan put his hand on the small of your back and you grimaced slightly. Was that what he wanted from this party? Steve raised his eyebrow in reaction. You couldn’t see his eyes because he had his sunglasses on, but you could see his body language change. Was he feeling protective? You were watching his expression closely, he was about to say something back, but he saw your eyes go wide at something, or rather someone behind him. Billy kept his eyes trained on you as he and his lackeys approached your group. Jonathan pulled you closer by your waist. Steve sighed when he turned his head to follow your eye line, only to realize you were watching Billy.

“We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington!”

“Yeah, that’s right!”

“Yeah eat it, Harrington!”

Steve took off his sunglasses and focused his concentration on Billy. Nancy, while Steve was preoccupied, started to slip away from your small group and headed back toward the kitchen for more alcohol. You tore your eyes away from Billy to put your hand up to Jonathan’s ear. “You go make sure Nancy doesn’t get into too much trouble, I’ll make sure Steve doesn’t get his ass kicked,” you whispered. Jonathan shot you a confused look. You motioned your eyes toward Nancy, she was feverishly drinking from a bowl of punch that was definitely spiked. “Make sure she doesn’t give herself alcohol poisoning. I would, but that would leave you stuck helping Steve and I know you’re not his biggest fan.”

“Whatcha chatting about there?” Billy taunted.

You pried Jonathan off of your skin. He looked Billy up and down before heading off toward Nancy. You turn your attention back to “Nothing that concerns you, Billy.”

He smirked. “Oh yeah? Well, I feel like it’s pretty unfair that you know my name, but I’ve never heard yours.”

“She’s a loser, Hargrove,” One of his friends said.

“Yeah she’s the toy of the freak’s brother,” Said the other.

“She plays that stupid dragons game with a bunch of middle schoolers for fun.”

“Hey, don’t call her a toy or a loser. Even if she is a little awkward at times, at least she’s kind, unlike you shitheads,” Steve cut in.

“Thanks, Steve, ‘appreciate it,” You replied quietly. Ouch, man, jocks are mean. Their comments killed any confidence you had.

“Shut up all of you!” Billy seethed. You jumped slightly from the tone and volume of his voice. You weren’t scared, just startled. It reminded you of Jonathan and you’s yelling matches. He seemed to notice your change in demeanor, “You two-” he motioned to the jocks, “leave the three of us to chat.”

“But Billy-”

Billy quickly put his hand up, signaling them to shut up, and they did. “Leave.” The jocks scattered.

He turned his attention back to Steve. “You know, Harrington, I hardly ever agree with you, but I am glad that you told them off. It shows you still have at least a little bit of a backbone.”

His eyes found yours. Your stomach began doing flips again. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Now where were we? Yes, your name. What’s your name doll?”

“Y/n Henderson.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” Billy smiled; his tongue was tucked between his teeth.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Oh come on Hargrove, she’s got a boyfriend.”

Billy scoffed, his eyes drifted toward Jonathan and Nancy in the kitchen. You and Steve followed. Jonathan was a little too close to her for comfort. “What that Jonathan kid? Please, Harrington. You and I both know how uncomfortable she was with him touching her. My guess is they won’t be together much longer. In fact, I’d say you both are close to being single.” Steve was listening, but his eyes were trained on Nancy. He really was in love with her.

“Will you be okay with him?” Steve asked. His eyes never left his girlfriend, who was currently getting a minor back rub from your boyfriend. It makes you feel sick and your vision blurred until you convinced yourself to look away.

“I think I’d rather be over here right now, than over there. You can go, Steve.”

He looked back toward you, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Probably best you go rescue, Nancy.” You were looking at Steve, but you could feel Billy’s delighted grin in your general direction.

“Yeah Steve, go rescue Nancy. Y/n and I will be just fine.” Steve glared at Billy before turning his attention back to you.

He rested his hand gently on your shoulder. “Bastard tries anything, you let me know and I’ll kick his ass.” It was the first time Steve had shown any care toward you more than you just being Nancy’s friend. It felt like you really mattered to him for the first time.

“You got it, Harrington,” You rested your hand on top of Steve’s and gave it a squeeze before removing it from your shoulder. It had never felt so cold before. Steve nodded to you and left the conversation.

Billy’s face was still covered in a giddy grin. “Sorry about the idiots from earlier. They don’t know what they are talking about.”

You shot him a confused look. “I mean, nothing they said was wrong, but I still appreciate the apology. You hang out with some real assholes.”

“What do you mean they weren’t wrong?”

“I mean, I am a loser. I do play dungeons and dragons with my little brother and his friends sometimes and… I am dating Jonathan. I wouldn’t say he treats me like a toy, but I also wouldn’t say he treats me like a girlfriend.” You paused and looked toward the kitchen again. Steve and Jonathan were squabbling while Nancy was slowly sipping punch again. You rolled your eyes. “I have a feeling he likes Nancy more now than he likes me, but Nancy is with Steve, so he keeps me around. Neither of us really enjoys being lonely. His family and I have been through a lot together.” Your eyes reconnected with Billy’s. You could see a hint of almost sadness in them. It was almost like he related in a way? Maybe he was lonelier than you realized he was. “Sorry, that was probably too much information.”

“No, no, Darlin’ you’re fine.” Billy started to move toward you, but he stopped himself from grabbing your hand. “May I?”

You gave him a curious nod.

He gently picked up your hand. “It’s not often that people are real with me. I really do hang out with assholes most of the time, you’re right. And I mean this genuinely, I’m not trying to do anything weird, if Jonathan ever does anything, and I mean anything to hurt you, and I mean anything, you come find me, okay?”

“Billy-”

“No, I’m serious, Y/n. I am an asshole okay? But like I said to Steve, it is clear how uncomfortable he makes you to me. If he does anything to you that hurts you, come to me and I will kick his ass. I’m a bad guy, and I can see how good of a person you are. We never have to talk again if you don’t want to, but if you need me I’m trapped in this hellhole of a town. I will protect you where you can’t protect yourself, all you have to do is ask.”

Your fingers were tingling. His grip was firm yet comforting and soft. “Why?”

“Why?”

“Why would you help me?”

“I can see that you are a sweet girl, and you don’t deserve how the people in this fucking town talk about you. If I catch any of my boys talking shit about you again, I’ll kick their asses too. You… You clearly deserve more in life than whatever the fuck this town thinks you do. There are so many dicks and bitches here, myself included, but you aren’t like that. Probably why King Steve and Jonathan and Nancy stick around you. You’re like some kind of weird light in the darkness.” He explained. You could see it in his face, he was being sincere.

“Wow… you really are drunk off your ass, aren’t you?” You giggled. “I don’t know if you’ll feel this way tomorrow, but nonetheless, thank you, Billy, really. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone say something that nice about me.”

“Trust me, Sweetheart. Even if I remember nothing else, I will remember this little chat we had.” He brought your hand up to his lips and briefly kissed your knuckles. “I better go before the boys come back.” He stepped back from you and let go of your hand.

“Which ones? Yours or mine?”

“Either, or both.” He shot you another wink before he disappeared into the crowd, leaving you alone.

| < ♥️ > |

It was another hour of being alone before you realized something was very wrong. You had heard from people inside the party chatting that Steve and Nancy had a fight. You saw Steve get in his car and leave without Nancy. You decided to go looking for Jonathan at that point because you were getting worried, but when you asked. Some classmates, if they had seen him, and they told you something unimaginable. He had left the party without you to take Nancy home. You made your way back outside at that point and sat on the lawn. You just felt numb. You wanted to cry, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You didn’t know what else to do, but wait for him to come back for you. That is if he ever did come back for you.

You ended up just waiting there for hours. A few of your class acquaintances checked in on you now and then, but other than that, you were alone. You were just mentally beating yourself up for ever letting Jonathan convince you to come to this party. It was maybe hour five waiting outside, by the time you saw Billy again. You hadn’t noticed him and his friends come out of the house, you were lost in your own little world. That is until one of the jocks decided to spill their leftover beer on your head. “What the hell?” You spat at the taste of the sour liquid hitting your mouth. It made your skin and hair instantly sticky.

The jock laughed. “Still a loser, Henderson! Even your freak of a boyfriend doesn’t care about you enough to take you home!”

You didn’t even get another word in. “Look at me,” Billy said to his jock friend.

“Yeah Hargrove?” That was all he got in before Billy started swinging. His aim was a little off due to the amount of alcohol in his system, but he still managed to land a decent punch on the other guy’s jaw. “What the fuck man? It was just some beer!”

Billy would have swung again, but you rushed to your feet and grabbed his arm. “Billy, no that’s enough. You’re drunk.”

“So? I’ll kick his ass.”

“I think it’s time for you to go home. You might be pissed at yourself in the morning for punching your friend in my name.”

He looked back toward the jock, though he didn’t try to move from your grasp. “What was that about her boyfriend?”

The guy was holding his jaw, but he was still able to speak. “He left hours ago with the Wheeler girl.”

“What about Harrington?”

“Left on his own, he had some kind of fight with Nancy,” you answered.

“You’re stranded?” He asked.

“Yeah, I am. I was hoping Jonathan would come back, but he hasn’t.”

Billy pulled keys out of his pocket. “I’ll take you home.”

“Like hell, you’re driving,” you pulled away and stuck out your hand, “I’ll drive.”

“No one drives my car, but me, Sweetheart.”

You crossed your arms, “then I guess we are both stuck here because I will not let you drive home like this.”

He rolled his eyes and huffed. He genuinely seemed to be contemplating his options as his friends walked away toward their own car. “Why are you looking out for me?”

“You look out for me, I look out for you. Gimme your keys.”

“Fine, you crash it, I’ll kill you,” he said jokingly. Though you knew better.

“Relax I am a great driver.”

“Whatever you say, Doll.”

| < ♥️ > |

Billy stayed the night at your place. You decided it was the best option because he couldn’t remember his address and he seemed hesitant about bringing you home anyway. You snuck him into your room. Your mom was out of town, but Dustin was home and probably asleep. You definitely didn’t want him figuring out what was going on at this hour. You could fill him in on everything in the morning. Billy had a few extra clothing items in his back seat and brought them inside with him. You blushed and turned away when he started changing, but you soon spun around to face him when you felt a piece of clothing hit the back of your head. It was a clean “The Romantics” shirt. “I thought you’d enjoy sleeping in that. Besides, it’s better than being covered in beer.”

You laughed quietly. “You realize we’re at my place right? I have all my clothes here.”

He shrugged as he hopped onto the bed. “Yeah, but like it’s like a thank you, you know, for making sure I had a safe place to sleep tonight.” You smiled at him before moving to your dresser. You grabbed some clean sleep shorts and a few other things before you moved toward the door. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna shower. This beer in my hair will drive me crazy if I don’t wash it out.”

“Is it okay if I go to sleep?” He asked.

“Of course, Billy. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

| < ♥️ > |

Billy woke up in a bed he knew wasn’t his own. At first, he felt disoriented, but soon the sweet scent of strawberries and flowery perfume hit his nose and he knew that it was your bed. The chain of events from the night before started to fill his brain. He really hoped he hadn’t overstepped any of your boundaries. Even though he was a player and people considered him a bad boy, he was a stickler for consent. He would never want to push you past your limits.

Even though he had figured out that he was in your bed, he saw no side of you. It appeared that you may have never been in it. As he continued to wake up more, he heard a male voice he didn’t recognize coming from down the hall. The voice sounded younger, maybe a boy around his sister’s age? He knew you had a brother, he had learned that last night. It was probably him. Billy got up and cracked the bedroom door. “Yeah, she’s just asleep on the couch. I don’t know why. I haven’t been in her bedroom, I don’t really go in there. It smells too much like a flower meadow in there for me.” There was a younger boy standing by the telephone, talking loudly into it while eating a muffin. “Wake her? Nah, Jonathan, you know she sleeps through everything. I’m sure you’ll figure it out when she gets to school later.”

Billy snapped when he heard Jonathan’s name. “Hey, kid.” Dustin’s eyes widened while Billy approached. “Is that Jonathan Byers on the phone?”

“You’re Max’s brother.”

Billy rolled his eyes. “Yeah I am, hand over the phone, kid.”

Dustin passed off the phone and scurried back to his room. Billy looked over to you; you were fast asleep on the couch. You had made a little bed there, which honestly made his heartache. Though his worries faded into a smile when he noticed that you had in fact worn his shirt to bed. He turned his attention back to the phone. “Byers, if it isn’t the man of the hour.”

Jonathan was seething on the other side of the phone. “Billy Hargrove? What the hell are you doing at my girlfriend’s house?”

“Depends Byers. Why did you leave her alone last night?”

“Huh?”

“Why did you leave her stranded at the party? You took that Nancy chick home and left her with no ride. Seems like kind of a shitty thing to do, don’t you think?”

“I figured she’d catch a ride home with Steve or something.”

“Harrington left before you did, for your information. She waited hours for you to come back, but you never did. She had no way to call anyone for help either; the phone went out at Tina’s place. That’s a really shitty thing to do to your supposed girlfriend, don’t you think, Byers?”

“Our relationship has nothing to do with you, Billy.”

“Oh you see, but it does Jonathan. You have one of the sweetest girls in town wrapped around your ugly-ass selfish finger, god only knows why, and you treat her like shit. You’re going to listen to me and listen to me good, Byers. If I hear of you fucking up again, I will find you and smash your fucking face into the sidewalk. Are we clear?”

“What the fuck Billy? You can’t just-”

“I said are we clear? You can’t hurt this girl again. I won’t let you.” With that, Billy hung up the phone. Dustin, the poor kid, was standing in the hallway. He was horrified, but also enthralled.

“Aren’t you supposed to be some kind of major asshole?” Dustin asked.

Billy raised his eyebrow. “How long have you been standing there?”

Dustin shrugged, “Long enough to know you care about my sister, which is something I never thought I would be saying about you. I’ve only ever heard bad things about you. I’m Dustin, by the way. I’m the man of this house and I do not give you permission to date my sister, but I guess if you want to be her friend and look out for her, that’s okay. I don’t like how Jonathan treats her either.”

“Well kid, that definitely makes two of us. I’m Billy, Billy Hargrove.”

“Oh, I know.”

“So… you two have met. What did I sleep through this time?” You asked as you sat up.

“Nothing important, Doll,” Billy replied with a smile.

You looked toward your little brother. “Jonathan called. He’s angry that Billy’s here, and then Billy threatened him like nothing I’ve ever heard.”

“Damn it, kid; you gotta have my back next time.”

Dustin huffed. “I wasn’t gonna lie; she’d find out when she got to school anyway.”

“Jonathan can kiss my ass. How much do you know about last night, Dustin?”

He gulped, “Enough. I’m guessing you drove Billy’s car here?”

“Yeah.” You turned your attention to Billy. “How much do you remember from last night?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I remember all of it. It takes a lot more than that to make me blackout drunk.”

You sighed, “I’m not sure if that should be impressive or concerning.”

“Probably both, Doll.” He looked toward the floor for a moment before looking back at you. “Do you want me to take to both to school? I gotta pick up Max, but I’m happy to take you.”

“Is that okay with you, Dustin?” You asked.

“Are you kidding? That’s a 1979 Chevrolet Camaro Z-28.”

You and Billy both chuckled. “Since when are you into cars?”

“Recently.”

You shrugged it off. “Alright, you promise to bring us home later?”

“Of course, I’m not Jonathan. I won’t leave you stranded.”

Dustin laughed at that, and Billy followed him. You snorted and quickly covered your mouth. “Alright, chuckleheads, I’m going to get dressed. You two get your shit together; if we’re picking up Max and planning to get to school mostly on time, we need to get moving.”

Dustin sprinted off toward his room, “Roger that!”

“He’s a stranger, kid, but I like him.”

You nodded to Billy. “Now, the harder part, he has to like you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Doll. He already said I have his permission to be your friend, not allowed to date you, though.”

You rolled your eyes and disappeared into your room.

| < ♥️ > |

You appeared a few minutes later, still wearing Billy’s shirt, just with a pair of oversized jeans with it this time. You all picked up Max, she was confused, but the drive was uneventful. The Hargrove parents were either not home, or they didn’t come outside. Based on how tense Billy was as you pulled up to the house, you suspected that was a blessing.

After a short, quiet drive, you all arrived at school. There were already girls and guys alike staring toward the camaro. Billy could feel you shifting uncomfortably in the passenger seat. “Relax, Doll. If anyone says anything to you about this that upsets you, come find me, especially if Jonathan tries anything, understand?”

“Yep,” You popped your knuckles as a nervous habit. You gave him a soft smile before turning your attention to the kids in the back seat. “Make good choices; I’ll see you both later.”

You had already made eye contact with Jonathan from across the parking lot. “Where are you going?” Dustin asked.

“I have to talk to Jonathan before classes start.” You hopped out of the car before anyone in the car could protest. Before you could get all the way to Jonathan, Carol stepped into your path. “What can I do for you, Carol?”

“I’m just shocked.”

“What about?”

“You and Billy Hargrove? You’re really moving in a sluttier direction than I could have ever could have predicted. You’re usually such a little miss perfect.”

You sighed. “It’s not like that, Carol; nothing happened between Billy and me last night. I ensured he didn’t drink and drive; this morning, he offered my brother and me a ride to school. That’s it.”

“Sure, nothing happened between you and Billy last night.” She moved to whisper in your ear. “You’re just saying that because Jonathan’s right there, right? Oooh! You really are dirty. Don’t worry; your secret is safe with me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever floats your boat.” You pushed passed her.

“If you keep this up with Billy, you could be one of the popular kids before you know it. That’s why you always chased after Steve, right?”

You swung back around. “Excuse me?”

“You liked Steve because he was popular, but you couldn’t have him, so you settled for Jonathan. Now you actually have a popular pretty boy interested in you, but you don’t know what to do with yourself or your useless freaky ex. So, you’re pretending you didn’t sleep with Billy because you don’t want everyone to know how much of a popularity whore you actually are.”

You huffed. “Like I said, whatever whore story floats your boat, Carol. I really don’t give a fuck what you think about me.” You proceeded on your route toward Jonathan without letting her say anything else. “Hey, Jonny.”

“Hey, what the hell happened?”

“Between Billy and me or between you and Nancy?”

“What? Nothing happened between Nancy and me. Did something happen between you and Billy?”

You shook your head. “No, I drove his car back to my place last night because you stranded me there when you left with Nancy. He slept in my bed; I stayed on the couch because I do still have respect for you and our relationship, no matter whatever the fuck stories people are making up.”

“So you didn’t cheat on me?”

“Of course not, jackass. Did you cheat on me?”

“No. I didn’t. Nancy was drunk and I took her home to her place and then went back to my house. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should have found you before I left with Nancy or came back to get you.”

“All can be forgiven, Jonathan.” You stuck your hand out. “Are we good? Ready to go to class?”

He stepped back. “No, I’m not done yet. There’s stuff I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, but haven’t brought up yet. This whole situation with Billy and Nancy makes me think I should just go ahead and say it.”

“Alright. What’s on your mind Jonny Boy?”

“I think we should break up.”

“Huh?”

He sighed. “You heard me Y/n. Look, our relationship has been breaking down for months; you know that as well as I do. I’m really glad to hear nothing happened between you and Billy last night while we were still together, you are a fantastic girl Y/n, but we are not right for each other. Besides, if you are actually interested in Billy, I think you should go for it. Assholes are usually your type.” All you could do was stare at him. It wasn’t a surprising outcome to this situation, but it still wasn’t an easy thing to hear. You could feel tears welling in your eyes even though you were trying not to let them spill. “C'mon Y/n, please don’t cry.”

“I’m just processing. I’ll ahh… talk to you later, Jonathan.”

| < ♥️ > |

You spent most of your day in the farthest bathroom away from people. It was in the back corner of the school and hardly anyone ever used it. You knew that your breakup was for the best, but it was also incredibly hard to process with everything else that had happened in the last 24 hours. “Y/n?” Oh fuck.

“Yeah Nancy?” You tried your best to make your voice sound whole, but you couldn’t make it happen.

“Do you need anything?”

“No… But thank you.”

“Of course. I know we aren’t super close anymore, but you weren’t in any classes this morning and I was just getting worried.”

You sniffled, but a small smile came onto your face. “I appreciate you, Nancy; really, I do.”

“Yeah, I ran into Jonathan this morning after first period, and he told me that he broke up with you and that he was worried about your mental health with it. And like everything that happened last night. He should have picked better timing.”

You laughed. “Yeah, I could definitely get behind that.”

“I’m so sorry he left you stranded at that party, I can’t believe Billy gave you a ride. If I hadn’t been drinking, things would have gone smoother. I really am sorry.” You could feel how sorry she was.

“Jonathan’s actions aren’t yours, Nancy. I have no hard feelings against you, really. I believe you’re a good person, truly. I just… I’m upset about the breakup and just something Jonathan said. Ugh… boys are honestly the fucking worst, and I really wish I had never gone to the Halloween party, to begin with. I feel like if I hadn’t gone… maybe Jonathan would have waited to dump me? Carol probably wouldn’t be on my ass? Maybe I wouldn’t feel so overwhelmed right now? Having so many mixed feelings about Hargrove?” You ranted.

“Boys are the worst.” Nancy agreed. “What happened with Carol?”

You groaned. “She gave me shit in the parking lot for being seen with Billy. She’s definitely somewhere spreading the rumor that I slept with him last night right now. She called me a popularity whore and told me I was getting sluttier. I think the second one was supposed to be a compliment?”

“What on earth? A popularity whore?”

“As Jonathan said, my ‘type is usually assholes’. I guess everyone just sees me as some chick who will dote on any boy who raises her social status.”

“Y/n open the stall door.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Just trust me.”

You sighed and wiped your face dry. You reluctantly opened the door. Nancy’s face softened as she saw your state. “Oh, honey. Y/n, I mean this genuinely, you are kind and sweet. Not everyone; I would even go as far as saying that most people do not see you in a negative light. Carol is just a bitch, and Jonathan shouldn’t have said that. I mean, even if you were interested in Billy, maybe you know something that I don’t about him. Maybe he’ll be a better person with you around; no one knows everything about another person, or what the future holds. Maybe Carol sees you as a whore, and Jonathan sees Billy as an asshole. Who cares? That’s what they think. I think you are wonderful and I know Steve does too. I don’t know how to feel about Billy, but it seems like you don’t either. And that’s okay for now.”

Your heart did a flip at the mention of Steve’s name. You wanted to know if he was okay after everything last night, but it was so late by the time you got home that you didn’t want to call him. And she was right about your feelings on Billy. Your head was never clear with that boy on your mind. Maybe he was a total shitbag; perhaps he was a villain to everyone, but you. You didn’t know that much about him yet. There was still time to figure things out. “Thank you, Nancy, really.”

“Of course.” She pulled you into a quick hug. You patted her back gently for a moment before pulling away. You honestly wished it was longer; you felt like you needed a good hug. “Do you want to walk with me to the gym? I need to talk to Steve after last night, but I don’t really want to leave you here by yourself; that doesn’t feel right.”

“Sure, I’ll walk with you.”

“Alright, we’ll head that way now.”

| < ♥️ > |

The gym wasn’t a far walk; you and Nancy arrived shortly after leaving the bathroom. You trailed behind her a-ways. You told her you didn’t want to disrupt her and Steve’s conversation. You’d just be waiting in the gym for them to get back. Nancy called out to her boyfriend, who was playing on the court. Well, he was standing on the edge of the court. Billy was at the center, smiling and laughing. You assumed they were on opposite sides, and Billy had just made a basket. Steve looked cute, his hair was messy, and he had his hands on his hips. He looked at you briefly. His face was concerned, but soon, his eyes went from yours to Nancy’s, and his expression turned to one of dread. She motioned him to follow her, and he did, tossing you a sympathetic look as he walked by. You hadn’t caught a glimpse of your face since the break-up, but you were sure it wasn’t pretty. You had felt pretty good about yourself when you walked out of your room this morning, but Jonathan had knocked the air out of your lungs. You leaned up against the bleachers and began playing with your nails. It was hard to make yourself look in Billy’s direction, so you kept your eyes glued to your hands. You wanted to believe that he could be a good person somewhere in his heart; he had been nothing, but kind to you. However, you knew what people said about him. What Dustin told you this morning about his tone with Jonathan wasn’t exactly pleasing. Was it protective? Scary? Asshole-ish? You felt like your thoughts were all jumbled up in your brain. “Hey Doll, come to watch me play?”

You could feel him standing next to you now, but you didn’t look up. “I was hanging out with Nancy. I told her I’d wait here for her to come back.” Your voice still sounded sore.

You could feel Billy’s demeanor change. His aura was frightening. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I’m okay, just waiting.”

“Then look at me.”

“I’d rather not.”

He chuckled, but you could feel that he was upset. “What? Flustered by the fact that I’m shirtless?”

“No, not that either. I’m just, thinking about important stuff.”

The basketball he had been holding in his hands was soon tossed back toward the court. You could hear it bouncing away. “Come play with us, Hargrove!” Tommy called.

“In a minute!” Billy snapped back. You could hear the players’ feet begin to move again. No one dared to argue with Billy. “You can stop thinking about your ‘important stuff’ for a minute to look at me. Show me your face.”

You shook your head and shrunk into yourself more. You saw his hand reach for your chin, but he stopped himself. “Billy-”

“Show me your face, Doll.” You said nothing. He wiggled the tips of his fingers in front of you. “May I?” You gave him a small nod. You felt powerless in the situation, yet somehow safe.

His hand connected with your chin and cheek. You felt him huff in anger at the dampness of your skin. He gently turned your head to make you look at him. You didn’t look him in the eye, but you didn’t have to. His fingers squeezed your skin slightly; he was furious. “What happened, sweetheart?”

You shook your head lightly. His fingers moved with your skin. His thumbpad was burning a hole in your jaw. “Nothing important.”

“Don’t try that,” he shot back. His tone was sterner than you’ve ever heard from him. “You’ve obviously been crying. If it was something I did, tell me and I’ll leave you alone.”

“No no, it wasn’t you, Billy.”

“Then who was it?” You connected your eyes with his, and you instantly looked away again. His intense gaze was too much for you to bare with how many emotions you were feeling at the moment.

“Jonathan dumped me this morning. Nancy found me sobbing in the bathroom and asked me to come with her here because she felt like she couldn’t leave me alone, but she needed to see Steve, for obvious reasons.”

“Say the word and I will beat him to a pulp.”

“I don’t want you to do that, Billy.”

“What can I do, Sweetheart?”

“Can you… can you give me a hug?”

His fingers slid off of your chin and his hand fell to his side. “But I’m all sweaty from playing-”

“I’m going to be real with you, Billy. At this point, I really just don’t care.”

He opened his arms. “Alright.”

You gently wrapped your arms around his middle and squeezed. You felt his chest rise and fall before he wrapped one arm around your back and rested the other on the back of your head. He was sticky, but you buried your face in his chest anyway. You felt your eyes become wet again and a rattled sob escaped your throat. Billy’s grip on you tightened. “Y/n?”

You tried to move from Billy’s arms to look in the direction of the person who called your name, but Billy kept you locked in place. “Shut up, Harrington. Can’t you see we’re having a moment?”

You could feel Steve walking up behind you. His hand landed on your shoulder, “Nancy is waiting for you in the hall. We have a game to finish when you’re okay to leave, Y/n.”

“Harrington I swear-”

“It’s okay Billy,” you wiggled yourself free of his grasp and wiped your cheeks. Steve’s hand fell to his side. “I’ll be fine. Nancy is in pretty much the rest of my classes. I’ll see you around. Thank you.”

You turned your attention to Steve. His face became more worried as he saw yours. “Y/n what happened?”

“Don’t worry about it, Stevie, just Jonathan. I’ll catch up with you later, yeah? Lunch?”

“Are you sitting with Nancy?”

You shrugged. “Probably not. She usually sits with Jonathan and I’m not really big on the idea of sitting with him. If you end up alone, I’ll be in the library during lunch period.”

| < ♥️ > |

Billy watched Steve closely for the rest of the game. Why was Steve invited to lunch and not him? Probably because they’re scared of Tommy and Carol. Billy wasn’t sure why he felt so protective of you, but he did and he was going to listen to his gut. He very vividly remembered the night before. He originally went up to you because he wanted to piss off Steve and Jonathan, and he thought you were cute as a bonus. Then, you two started talking. He watched your expressions and he felt like you could be broken so easily. For some reason, he didn’t want any of that to happen to you and he vocalized that to you because he was drunk. Then, he punched the shit out of Tommy for pouring beer on you. He didn’t regret it at all, even though he passed Tommy a quick ‘I’m sorry man’ under his breath that morning. As long as you let him be around you, he would be. It was almost like he had a real crush, rather than just lust. But am I really capable of that?

Billy caught himself staring at Steve while they were showering after gym. He knew he was bisexual. Steve was technically someone he hated, but he also was good-looking and Billy’s type. He didn’t want his feelings to get mixed up though, he was curious what Steve was thinking about the older Henderson. “Don’t sweat it Harrington; today’s just not your day, man.”

“Yeah, not your week,” Tommy laughed, “you and the princess break up for one day and she’s already running off with the freak’s brother.”

Billy shot Tommy a look and Tommy stepped away from the showers. Billy turned his attention back toward Steve. “Don’t take it too hard man, pretty boy like you’s got nothing to worry about… Plenty of bitches in the sea.” Billy turned off the water on Steve’s shower. “Am I right?”

Steve looked at Billy intently. “Like Y/n?”

Billy locked his jaw. “Not like Y/n.”

“What do you want from her, Hargrove?”

Billy leaned against the metal pole of the shower. “Why do you care, Harrington?”

“Because she’s my friend and I don’t want her to get hurt by a scumbag like you,” Steve fired back. “She’s been through enough as it is. She doesn’t need you fucking her life up. Jonathan’s a nice guy, and he made her sob. I don’t want to even think about what an asshole like you has planned.”

“Well, lucky for me Harrington, you don’t get to decide if I hang around her or not, but for your information, I have no bad intentions with our angel, Y/n. In fact, think of me as her new bodyguard. I’ll stick around to make sure no man in this school ever hurts her again, which also means, you can’t get close to her either. If you even think about meeting her in the library, alone, today, Harrington, I will absolutely kick your ass,” Billy seethed.

Steve chuckled in disbelief. “You are absolutely batshit insane; you know that Hargrove? You can’t stop me from hanging out with her; we’ve been friends for a lot longer than you’ve been around. I appreciate the body guarding, though; the guys in this school treat her like shit.” Steve pointed at Billy. “If she tells me a single bad thing that you do to her, I will set your ass on fire, Billy.”

Steve walked away from the showers, but he could still hear Billy laughing. “Looks like we have a bit of a competition going, Harrington! I can’t wait to win.”

| < ♥️ > |

Nancy walked with you to your class, but it wasn’t long until Jonathan walked up to you both. He asked Nancy to come with him for something. You were civil; you told them that it was fine and that you would be okay by yourself. Nancy was reluctant, but Jonathan seemed persistent, so she ended up going with him. You went to your classes and eventually made your way to the library for lunch. You found yourself a little table in the corner and sat down. You pulled a book from your bag and began to read it as you picked at your food. You knew Steve may show up at some point, but you also knew he might not. He would sometimes join you in the library to avoid being around Jonathan. You knew that Steve didn’t mind the older Byers brother most of the time, but the two didn’t have much in common. Steve struggled socially more than you knew he cared to admit. Sometimes, he wasn’t up for dealing with Tommy’s jeering and Jonathan’s awkward nature. Sometimes, he just sat in the library with you. Nancy always wanted to talk to Jonathan at lunch because they didn’t have many classes together and would pair off. You didn’t mind, you spent so much time at the Byers house you felt like you were with Jonathan 24/7, even when you weren’t. You didn’t know what you were going to do now. All you knew is that you wanted to avoid the normal lunch room.

“Hey y/n sorry I’m late. My crazy-ass science teacher kept us late, AGAIN.” Steve gave you a small smile as he sat down across from you. He had a tray from the cafeteria with pizza, a brownie, and some leftover sugary cereal from their breakfast service.

You laughed. “Really Steve?”

“What? It’s the lunch of champions.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure it is.”

He took a big bite of his pizza. Normally, he had a snappy comeback for everything you said. Today, he just continued to munch on his pizza and stared into the void of the swirling wood grains on the table. “So you and Hargrove?”

You groaned and put down your book. “Ugh, not you too, Steve.”

Steve quirked his eyebrow and took another bite of his pizza. “I mean… what I saw in the gym today didn’t exactly seem friend…like.”

You sighed. “I really just needed a hug today. I still need a hug to be honest with you, Steve. Jonathan really upset me this morning. I know our breakup was for the best, but just the way he went about it makes me feel like such shit. I want to go home and curl up in my bed and die.”

“Don’t beat yourself down like that, Y/n. I’m sure whatever Jonathan said about you isn’t true and-”

“But the thing is, Steve, it is true. He just made a comment about my choice of… male friends and I know it was directed at Billy and at you to an extent. It just made me feel like everyone sees me like Carol does. Like I’m just some popularity whore and only keep the company I do to gain the respect of other students. The truth is, I seem to befriend partiers, popular kids, and sometimes assholes because I like it when other people can pull me out of my shell. I just never want you or Nancy to see me like that. I really like hanging out with you and her Steve! And I don’t know how I feel about Billy right now, but I would love to just be able to explore those relationships without input from people like Carol and Jonathan, you know?”

Steve set his pizza crust back on his plate. “Yeah I do, Y/n. I’m so sorry I dragged you and Nancy and Barb into the same circles as people like Tommy and Carol. I enjoy being around you too and I don’t see you as someone greedy, needy, or weird like that, I promise. I don’t know exactly what Jonathan said to you, and you don’t have to tell me now, but if you need someone to talk to I’ll listen. I don’t always know what to say, but I will always listen.”

“I really appreciate you a lot, Steve, really.”

“I’m always going to be here for you. I know I haven’t always been a good friend to you, but you’ve stuck by me through all the bullshit. I want you to know that I have your back too… and that you’re not allowed to die until after I’m dead. I don’t think I could function very well without our library lunches.”

You laughed at his last comment. “Alright. No burying myself in blankets later and dying.”

“Good! Now, do you want some cereal?”

“I mean why not at this point.”

| < ♥️ > |

The rest of your day was a blur. You went to your classes and just sort of zoned out until it was time for you to move to the next place. Before you knew it, Dustin was running up next to you as you made your way out of school, and Max was trailing behind him. “How are you, Y/n? You look like shit.”

“Thanks, little bro,” you huffed. “I feel like shit.”

“Are you and Jonathan still together?”

“No…”

“Huh? Really?”

“No, Dustin. I and Jonathan are not still together,” You said. “I really don’t want to talk about it. I’m just not feeling too snazzy after everything, you know?”

He nodded. “That’s okay; I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine, Dusty. I’m just worn out.”

Max was watching you curiously. Billy was leaning against his car off in the distance while smoking. He was watching you all walk to him. “So you’re single now?”

“Yeah, Kid, I am.”

She nodded and smiled a bit. “Sorry to bring it up. Just confirming something. Are you doing okay otherwise?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. So excited to be heading home, though.”

“Hey! Henderson!” You and your brother both flung your heads to the left as you heard the sound of your last name. It came from Steve. Your little trio came to a stop a few cars away from Billy’s.

“I’m assuming you meant me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Henderson, elder.”

“What can I do for you, Harrington?”

He looked away briefly. He was looking in Billy’s general direction, but you couldn’t confirm that he was looking at him. He opened his arms wide. “You said you still needed a hug when we were talking earlier. I forgot to offer you one when we were leaving the library.”

You chuckled a bit. “That’s very sweet of you, Steve.” You wrapped your arms around his middle, much like you had done with Billy earlier in the day. Your hands were locked together, under his brown leather jacket. The material of his shirt was soft and warm. He squeezed you tightly as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He rocked side to side with you. It was honestly one of the most comforting hugs you had ever received.

Steve sneakily looked toward Billy who’s face was red with rage. Steve just shot the other boy a smile. He turned his attention back to you and pulled away. “Make sure you get some sleep tonight and if you need anything I should be at my place. Don’t be afraid to call the house.”

“Thank you, Steve. I’ll be sure to call you if I need anything.”

He patted Dustin on his shoulder. “Take care of her today, you hear me?”

Dustin nodded stiffly. “Yep!”

Steve looked like he was about to leave, but he traced his eyes across your frame again, and something clicked. “Is that Hargrove’s shirt?”

You looked down at yourself. “Sure enough, it is.”

Steve scoffed and pulled off his jacket. “Put this on, it’ll confuse the fuck out of Carol.”

Carol and Tommy were just across the way, standing by his car. They were trying to make it seem like they weren’t watching, but they definitely were. You took the jacket from Steve’s hands and put it on. “Fantastic plan, Steve.”

He winked. “Anytime.” With that, he started to walk off toward his car.

“Come on children, let’s not keep Billy waiting anymore.” You started walking toward Billy’s car again. The two middle schoolers followed your lead. You could see that Max was eyeing you closely, but you didn’t want to push and ask her why.

You could see that Billy was irritated, but he did his best to cover it up as you approached his car. He took one last drag from his cigarette before stomping it out under his shoe. “Hello, Hargrove.”

“Hey, Y/n.” He gently grabbed your upper arm and pulled you against him into a hug. You sort of fell into his chest and felt his arms wrap around your back.

“Billy?”

You wrapped your arms slowly around him. For the first time since you met him, he seemed fragile. He planted his face into the crook of your neck and you felt his body relax a little bit. “Little shitheads, get in the car,” he said to the middle school siblings.

“Say it nicer, Billy, or I’ll stop hugging you.”

You could feel his grumbling vocal cords. “Little shitheads, lovingly, get in the car.”

Dustin rolled his eyes and pulled the passenger door open. “Your new friend is weird, Y/n. For hugs, I’m giving a point to Steve. After you, Max.”

Billy mumbled something under his breath, but you couldn’t understand it. He didn’t say anything audible until both middle schoolers were in the car. Billy pulled you off him and placed his hands firmly on either side of your face. It doesn’t feel aggressive, just stern. “Lovingly, what the hell was that?”

“What was what?”

“You, just now, hugging Steve?”

He’s upset about me hugging Steve? “Oh! I told him I still needed a hug earlier today, so he offered to give me one as he was leaving.”

“So why did you accept his jacket?”

“To piss off and confuse Carol.”

“Carol?”

“Tommy’s girlfriend, with him by his car right now. She called me some nasty shit in the parking lot this morning in relation to us being seen together.” Billy looked past your head toward Tommy’s car. He showed no care in the world toward the fact that the couple could see him staring. He couldn’t help, but feel like it was his fault.

“I’ll make sure the bitch never speaks to you again.”

“Don’t do anything bad to her, Hargrove. I’d love for her to leave me the fuck alone, but not at the cost of you going to jail or something.”

He laughed. “Don’t worry about stuff like that sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

| < ♥️ > |

Your time at home was spent mostly in your room. Steve, Nancy, and Billy did all truly improve your mood when you were at school, but as night fell and you were alone, your self esteem began to shrink. Before he dropped you off, Billy slipped you the phone number for his house, but he told you only to call if it were any emergency. You didn’t quite know why, but you suspected that his dad was much like yours when you were a child and he was still around. You didn’t want to call him and get him into any kind of trouble.

You were crying. Your brother knew you were crying. He told you to call Nancy and he so wished that Barb was still around so you could have called her too. Nancy’s family phone fell flat. It rang, connected for a moment, and then hung up. You assumed her parents caught the call before she did and you didn’t dare call again. Dustin wouldn’t step into the living room, he was peering in from down the hall. He didn’t want to see what state you were in. He knew it was bad. “Just call Steve, Y/n. He’ll come over. His parents are never home so it would just be him there, right?”

“Yeah… I will.” You knew only four numbers; Jonathan’s, Barb’s, Steve’s, and Nancy’s. You knew that Joyce would be sympathetic toward you and she would always consider you family. She had told you that many times before, but you felt like you couldn’t go to her with this. It was, at the end of the day, about your relationship with Jonathan after all.

You dialed Steve’s number and mumbled a prayer that he would pick up. Thankfully, your prayers were answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, Steve. I’m sorry it’s so late.” You choked up on your tears. Your throat felt like it was trying to swallow itself. “Would you want to come over and watch a movie or something? I’m not doing so hot. I tried to call Nancy, but she didn’t pick up.”

He sounded sleepy at first, but his next sentences sounded much more awake. He realized how upset you were. “Yeah, I don’t mind. I already got some sleep in, so I can be up with you however long you are awake.”

“Thanks, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’ll be over soon! Just don’t do anything stupid before I get there.” He hung up the line quickly. You assumed he was rushing around trying to gather his belongings.

You sighed in relief and turned to Dustin. “He’s gonna come over and we’re gonna watch a movie. You can go to bed if you’d like. I’m sorry for keeping you awake.”

“It’s okay, Y/n. You’ll be okay until Steve gets here?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“Alright, goodnight, sis.”

“Night, Dusty.”

| < ♥️ > |

Steve slouched his back against the couch seat. You were almost asleep, sprawled out on the couch itself. Steve didn’t mind his spot on the floor, you had given him a blanket, and he wanted you to fall asleep. When he arrived at your house, he could see the tears in your eyes and tiredness in the lines of your face. He sat himself on the floor and you tried to argue for him to sit on the couch, but he denied it. He told you to lay down and he’d pick a movie. You eventually agreed and grabbed blankets for the both of you from your room. Now, it was almost time for the sun to come up and you were sleepily watching poltergeist. “Thank you for coming over Steve, I really do appreciate it, Steve.”

“What friends are for, Y/n,” he replied. “You okay?”

“Feeling a little silly for getting so upset. We’re just kids, but everything always feels so life or death in our world. I just, I don’t want to lose the Byers family in my life. Joyce is like my second mom and Will is a sweetheart. Jonathan’s not a bad person, he just made me sad you know? Like maybe eventually we could be friends again? After I’ve healed and stuff?”

Steve looked toward you and it felt like his eyes were pouring into your soul. “You’re not silly for wanting some company. Breakups are hard, okay? And like with him and his family and stuff, I’m sure you could be close to them still if you wanted. Jonathan doesn’t seem like the vengeful type or anything.”

“Thanks again, Steve.”

“Of course.”

He smiled at you briefly before turning his head back to the movie. He knew it wouldn't be long before you fell asleep now. He was glad, he knew you needed the rest. It had been a rough Halloween for everyone, but you and him especially. It felt like Nancy and Jonathan were pushing you each out. He didn’t know what to do or necessarily what to say. He just wanted you to feel safe and as calm as possible. Sleep seemed to be the easiest way to do that. He looked back toward you, your chest was rising and falling rhythmically. He breathed out in relief. You were fast asleep and he felt confident enough to close his own eyes. It was time for both of you to get some rest.

| < ♥️ > |

Steve awoke a few hours later because the living room phone was making a lot of racket. Steve groaned, but soon quieted when he realized that you were still asleep. He knew that you could sleep through a lot, but he decided to rush to the phone since there was no sign of Dustin stirring. He didn’t want it to keep ringing and possibly wake you. He picked the phone up off the wall and cleared his throat. “Henderson residence, Steve speaking, all the Hendersons are asleep right now, can I take a message for anyone?”

Steve heard a noise coming from the other side of the phone, it almost sounded like a growl. “What the fuck are you doing at Henderson’s house, Harrington?” Oh fuck, not this asshole. Why is he calling her?

“Hargrove… Why are you calling Y/n at like 8 in the morning?”

“Why are you at her house, answering her phone?” Billy asked.

Steve bit his lip. He knew that you would probably be upset with him for provoking Billy, but he couldn’t resist the temptation. The dude was crazy and possessive. Steve was annoyed with himself for finding Billy at all attractive. His first priority in this situation was to keep you safe, his confusing feelings toward Billy didn’t matter and while he didn’t want to upset you, he wanted to do what he thought was best. “She was having a hard time last night so she asked me to come over and watch movies. So, again I ask, why are you calling her? And why so goddamn early in the morning?”

“I was calling to check in on her; breakups can be painful. Pretty girls like her shouldn’t be abandoned in their times of need. I just wanted to give her some comfort.”

Steve could hear the smugness in Billy’s voice and oh god it pissed him off. “You and I both know that’s bullshit Hargrove, you just want to take advantage of her while she’s vulnerable.”

“I would never do that, Harrington. That’s low, even for me.”

“I-”

“Steve?” You called. “Is that Billy on the phone?”

Shit shit shit shit. I woke her up.

He knew he couldn’t lie to you about it, Billy would just tell you and then you’d be mad at him. “Yeah, it is.”

You shuffled over to the phone, still wrapped in your blanket. You had draped it around your shoulders. Steve found it endearing. You stuck out your hand for him to give you the phone. He was hesitant, but he did hand it over. “Hey, Billy.”

You could feel his smile radiating through the phone. “Hey, Doll. What’s that jackass doing at your house?”

You rolled your eyes. “I would appreciate it if you and Steve at least pretended to like each other and while I have no obligation to tell you, I will. Steve came over last night, late because my brother was ready for sleep, but didn’t want to leave me awake alone. I was struggling pretty bad with feelings about the breakup.”

Billy sighed. “Just for you, I will try to show Harrington some form of respect, as long as he shows some back.”

You smiled. “I’ll let him know. I do very much appreciate your cooperation. Now, why did you call?”

Billy was fiddling with his fingertips. He did his best to seem stable around you, even if he failed, at least he was trying. Though, he felt like he was slipping. “Well, I was wondering if you would want to go on a date tonight? We could get to know each other better and take things slow if that’s the pace you’re comfortable with.”

You let out a sigh. You were honestly interested. What would a date with Billy Hargrove be like? However, you knew that there was a possibility that he was lying about his intentions to get closer to you. You didn’t want to believe that because the version of him that you knew was protective and unyielding, yet sweet and soft, but you knew that it was a strong possibility.

“Doll?” His voice brought you back to reality. “You can say no. I won’t hold it against you if you aren’t ready.”

“No no. We could try. Just caught me off guard, that’s all. You promise, take it slow?”

“I would wait a lifetime for one date with you, Doll.”

Your face flushed. Steve quirked his eyebrow at you. “When?”

“Tonight. 7 o’clock. I’ll pick you up.”

“Alright, I’ll see you then.”

“Until then.” Billy hung up the phone.

You put the phone back on the hook and looked toward Steve. “What did he want?”

“He asked me if we could hang out later. I said yes, I know you’ll have to leave at some point and I’d rather not be alone today. I like company when I’m sad, you know?”

“Uh-huh.” Steve’s expression told you that he was unconvinced. You felt bad for giving him half of the truth, but you knew him well. He was one of your good friends. He would definitely not approve of you officially going on a date with Billy.

“Promise I’ll reach out to you if I need to afterward. Plus, I still carry pepper spray after that whole monster thing last year.”

“Fair enough…” He still seemed displeased with your answer, but he appeared to brush it off. “You want breakfast? We could go to the diner and bring something back for Dustin?”

You smiled. “That sounds lovely.”

| < ♥️ > |

Steve left reluctantly around noon. Dustin could be heard making a lot of noise in his room, but the odd crashing sound coming from there was not out of the ordinary. You put on a little black dress that you had purchased with a date with Jonathan in mind, but you didn’t care. It was something you felt good in and you wanted to feel cute. You called Billy after Steve left and nailed down some details. You knew that you would be getting food and going from there. This dress with a pair of your converse was a perfect middle ground. Did it look a little silly wearing a kind of fancy dress with converse? Yes, but they were in style and comfortable. You got ready around 4 before heading down to the local store to pick up a fresh tube of your favorite lipstick. You didn’t realize how low it was until you went to use it and the stub you had left crumbled on your lips. It was just the local general store, but they sold a few makeup things here and there. This particular lipstick was cheap and good. You were a little relieved when you discovered that Joyce wasn’t working, just because it made your trip easier on your anxiety. Everything was going to plan until you saw Steve in your driveway with Dustin and his nail-filled bat. The boys looked over toward your car, and Dustin ran up to your window. You rolled it down. “I’m so glad you’re here— why are you dressed like a stereotypical high school bimbo?”

You rolled your eyes and got out of the car. You didn’t bother to roll your window up; you were too focused on what the hell to say. “Gee, thanks, Dustin.”

“Steve quit gawking!” Dustin spat over his shoulder. He turned back to you. “Do you have plans?”

“Yeah actually.”

“Not anymore! Steve is here because I may have accidentally raised a baby Demogorgon and it may be in our storm shelter.”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

| < ♥️ > |

You couldn’t believe how quickly you got sucked into this mess again. Steve and Dustin filled you in on everything they knew, but unfortunately, Dart was nowhere to be found when you opened the storm shelter. You came up with the plan to lure him to the junkyard, so now the three of you were walking towards it along the train tracks. You were trailing a little bit behind the boys, trying not to get meat juice on your dress. This is not exactly what you had in mind when you put it on.

The boys were up ahead talking about crushes and girls. You knew that Dustin was talking about Max; you could just tell. It was kind of wholesome. Steve was talking about how he made connections with girls and it sounded like a bunch of nonsense to you. Though, it made perfect sense for how Steve’s relationships went before he started dating Nancy. “Then you just wait until… until you feel it.”

You rolled your eyes. You felt like you were intruding on their conversation in a weird way, so you tried to ignore it for a bit. You focused on the crunching stones beneath your feet and the sloshing of the meat-filled bucket in your hands. How could this all be happening again? Is Hawkins already in danger? I feel like we just stopped the monsters of the Upside Down yesterday. “What type is Nancy?”

You perked up at the sound of the other girl’s name. You couldn’t hold back your curiosity. “Nancy’s different. She’s different than the other girls.” Different than me.

“Yeah, she seems pretty special, I guess,” Dustin replied.

“Yeah. Yeah, she is,” Steve answered. You knew you shouldn’t be jealous of Nancy. Steve had never seen you as anything other than a friend, and he probably never will. You needed to be happy for them. They were a cute couple, after all.

“But this girl’s special, too, you know. It’s just, like, something about her,” Dustin said. It made your heart swell. It was the first time Dustin ever talked about anyone romantically, at least as far as you knew.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey, hey, hey.” Steve stopped Dustin from walking.

“What?”

“You’re not falling in love with this girl, are you?”

“Uh, no. No.”

“Okay, good. Don’t.”

“I won’t.”

“She’s only gonna break your heart, and you’re way too young for that shit,” Steve said as he looked toward the ground.

Their pause was enough for you to catch up to them. “You alright, Steve?”

“Yeah? Yeah, I’m alright. How are you doing, Party Dress ?”

You looked down at your outfit. “Listen, I didn’t exactly have time to change before heading out monster hunting.”

“Yeah, but like, why were you dressed like that in the first place?”

Yikes. “Just going out with some friends. It’s the weekend, after all.”

“You have friends other than Steve and Nancy?” Dustin asked.

You elbowed him. “Yes. I do happen to have other friends.”

“Oh really? I sure would like to meet them sometime, Y/n,” Steve teased. His face fell, and his tone became more serious. “You can tell me the truth; you can do whatever you want; I’m not gonna be mad at you or anything like that.”

You shrugged. “It’s not like it matters anyway; monster hunting is more important than dinner.” You turned to your little brother. “I think it’s cute that you like Max. You can act on those feelings or you can just let them be, it’s up to you, but whatever you do, show her you care.”

“That’s literally the exact opposite of what Steve just told me. And how did you know it’s Max?”

“Yeah, I know. You’re my brother. I can read you like the back of my hand.” You smiled at him. “Steve is a great guy, but I do disagree with the idea of acting like you don’t care. Caring about your friends and partners is a really important aspect of maintaining relationships. Even if someone likes the cool guy act, they still want to know that the person they’re interested care about them.

You turned your attention back to Steve. “You can say you don’t all you want, but you do actually care, like a lot. And it’s sweet and it’s endearing. You’ve changed so much since we met, Steve. You show that you care all the time now.”

He chuckled awkwardly, in the way that he does when he’s been complimented and doesn’t know how to handle it. “Thanks, Y/n.”

“Of course, now Steve, why don’t you give my brother your hair secrets?”

| < ♥️ > |

Lucas and Max appeared at the Junkyard just as night was beginning to fall. You all decided that the best course of action was to hold up in a bus and wait for Dart to appear. It was hard work getting the space set up, but you were hoping it would be worth it. Steve was leaning against a wall of the bus and you were sitting next to him. The clicking of his lighter was somehow comforting. It sort of reminded you that you were alone out here with the kids; you had another high schooler you could count on to help you if anything went wrong with this plan. Your stomach was twisted in knots. Something in your gut was telling you that things were going to go wrong. “So you really fought one of these things before?” Max asked.

Steve nodded to her. You played with the skin around your fingers. “Yeah.”

Steve placed his hand on your shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/n.”

“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?” She questioned.

You sighed. “I wish it was just a bear.”

“Shit. Don’t be an idiot. Okay? It wasn’t a bear. Why are you even here if you don’t believe us? Just go home.” Dustin spat. He was pacing around the bus. You were honestly shocked by his tone. He sounded quite mean.

“Dustin!” You scolded.

“What? You know damn well it’s not a bear!”

Max rolled her eyes and stood up from her place in the corner of the bus. “Geesh. Someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” She climbed up the ladder to sit on the roof with Lucas. Steve praised him for acting like he doesn’t care.

You huffed and shot Steve a glare. “Don’t encourage him to act like that Steve. Max helped us set up and while she’s sassy, she’s only been helpful to us. Treat her with some respect. Your behavior gives me the ick, Dustin.”

He sighed, and Steve took his hand off of your shoulder. “Sorry, Sis.”

“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to, Dustin. I know we are all tense, and this is a scary situation, but that’s not an excuse. There is a difference between acting like a cool guy and being a cool guy, you know?”

Steve was about to say something, but the conversation was interrupted by wailing in the distance. Lucas got eyes on Dart a few seconds later. You grabbed a large knife that Steve had been carrying in his backpack and watched the creature closely through the grates of the bus. Dart didn’t take the bait, and Steve looked like he was getting a wild idea. “Maybe he’s sick of cow.” He tossed Dustin his lighter and started to move toward the door.

“Don’t you dare do what I think you’re gonna do,” You warned. “You’re not leaving this bus.”

“I’ll be okay, Y/n. Just get ready.” You followed Steve to the door, but couldn’t make yourself step out of the bus. Christmas Lights. Fighting this thing in bursts. Setting the house on fire. Your brain was swirling with too many thoughts. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you almost missed the second monster coming up behind Steve.

Before you could think, you were running out of the bus. “Steve!” You shouted as you managed to stab the creature. It screamed, and the noise attracted Steve’s attention. The worst realization that you both had at that moment, is that there were more than two monsters. Steve ducked and rolled on the hood of a broken-down car to avoid getting bit. You dodged the creatures as best you could in your very inconvenient outfit. “Steve! Y/n! Abort! Abort! OH GOD, Y/N!” You could hear your brother’s voice, but you couldn’t concentrate on what direction it was coming from. Nothing was really making sense anymore. Your eyes were going fuzzy, and your body felt like it was melting into jello. Soon, all the noises around you felt like they were coming from above water while you sank further down into an abyss of darkness.

| < ♥️ > |

To be continued...

#stranger things steve #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things season 2 #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #harringrove #harringrove x reader #steve harrington #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fluff #i wrote this instead of sleeping #i wrote this for me #special interest #fanfiction writing #please comment #stranger things fandom

[sparklyfaerie]

Zelink Week - Day 2: Forbidden

Since Ao3 is still down, I'm posting my submissions here until such a time as I can get it on the archive. @zelinkcommunity

Title: False Worship Summary: Really, what had her father expected? They are neither of them paragons of virtue, no matter how hard they try to give that impression. It had been inevitable that they’d be drawn to each other.

Words: 4,163 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Zelink (Breath of the Wild, pre-calamity) Extract:

They shouldn't be doing this—especially not here, not in a sacred spring of the old gods. But Zelda just doesn't care. The gods have ignored her all her life, despite her endless supplications. Despite all the soothsayers remaining convinced that she is the sacred princess of legend, destined to seal Calamity Ganon away. Why should she care about desecrating their holy sites? Maybe, this way, she might finally gain their attention—even if only to strike her down for blasphemy. It will be a pity to take Link with her, but she's already going to get him killed because she can't awaken her stupid powers anyway.

Ao3 Tags under the Read More

Ao3 Link Now Here! Tags: Pre-Calamity, Talking Link, Zelda needs a hug, Smut, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Zelda hates Hylia a lot, and her father a little, minor in-universe blasphemy, First time, Unsafe sex

False Worship

If her father had known what assigning Link as her personal knight would lead to, Zelda is a hundred percent certain that he would not have gone through with it.

At first, she'd hated being left alone with him out in the wilderness. He'd been silent and watchful, barely speaking a word unless spoken to—and even then, keeping his answers as concise and neutral as possible. He'd made her feel judged and found wanting—at least until she'd come to understand him.

Now, she's rather glad that her father trusts him. It means there's no one around to witness them push aside their boundaries and cross into forbidden territory.

The waters of the Spring of Power splash and ripple as she drags him into it, mouth hot on his. His hands immediately slide down her body to cup her rear, the heat of them scalding her through her wet prayer gown.

He turns them on the spot and backs her toward the stairs, lifting her onto the lip of the stone next to them. His lips find her throat as her fingers bury themselves in his hair, tugging his tie out and tightening against his scalp. Her head dips back at the slightest suggestion of teeth—not enough to bruise, but there will be red marks for at least a few minutes when he's done with her.

"There is nothing wrong with you." He breathes into her ear as her free arm wraps around his shoulders. "Nothing."

She tugs him to stand between her parted thighs, his hands leaving burning trails as they push sodden fabric up, up, up. Her breath hitches as he tugs her earlobe between his teeth.

Of course there's something wrong with her. She's letting her knight have his way with her in a sacred spring, for goodness' sake.

…or is she having her way with him? She's not sure. She's relatively certain that he would never put his hands on her without her reaching for him first, at the very least. And he would certainly never desecrate such a holy place of his own volition.

Maybe it's just her, after all. He certainly doesn't seem to have lost Hylia's favour for defiling Her descendant. At least, not yet.

His lips seek hers, and then his tongue is in her mouth. She sighs through her nose, pressing herself against him and feeling the warmth of his frame bleed through their drenched clothing. Her fingers are cold when she sneaks them up under his tunic, but he doesn't so much as flinch as her thumbs brush against the bones of his pelvis.

She feels bad that she uses him like this, to soothe the ache that repeated failure has settled between her ribs. But still, she exults in the feeling of warm fingers tightening into the flesh of her thighs before he curses, fumbling with her uncooperative smallclothes.

She rakes her fingernails over his abdomen when his hand slips beneath sodden fabric, tearing her lips from his to bury her face in his shoulder. His fingers burn as they slip between her folds, fumbling, seeking.

They've only done this a small handful of times, and neither are particularly experienced. Zelda has never lain with a man before, and she's fairly certain that he's never had a woman, either. He'd once confessed to her that he felt pressured to live up to an unrealistic ideal of courage and virtue, to have a pristine reputation and never set a toe out of line. That means there can be no string of jilted lovers left in his wake.

Really, what had her father expected, throwing two repressed young people into each other's company, out of view of prying eyes? They are neither of them paragons of virtue, no matter how hard they try to give that impression to the world. It had been inevitable that they'd be drawn to each other, that lines would be crossed.

Link may be as inexperienced as she, but he's a quick study. He finds her clit after a few moments of searching, cursing through gritted teeth as he sets to pressing his fingers against her. She makes a broken noise into the fabric of his tunic as her thighs clench around his hips, pelvis jolting at the sensation.

"Too much?" He asks breathily.

"A little." She admits.

His touch eases up into something far more manageable—and altogether more glorious. She sighs into the crook of his neck, lips pressed against the throb of his pulse. His skin tastes of sweat and spring water, his heartbeat strong and rapid under her lips. "How's that?"

She tightens her arms around his shoulders, panting into his ear. She makes an approving sound from deep within her throat, humming as he sets into a rhythm that makes her blood run hot.

They shouldn't be doing this—especially not here, not in a sacred spring of the old gods. But Zelda just doesn't care. The gods have ignored her all her life, despite her endless supplications. Despite all the soothsayers remaining convinced that she is the sacred princess of legend, destined to seal Calamity Ganon away. Why should she care about desecrating their holy sites?

Maybe, this way, she might finally gain their attention—even if only to strike her down for blasphemy. It will be a pity to take Link with her, but she's already going to get him killed because she can't awaken her stupid powers anyway.

It's inevitable, she thinks absently as he removes his fingers and lifts her rear from the cold stone. Knowing what he wants, she struggles with sodden, clinging fabric, letting him lower her legs back to stand in the water so he can help divest her of her prayer gown. It drops with a wet thwap into the water beside her, immediately borne away by the current and over the small waterfall that feeds the bottom half of the spring.

She's overheating, even though she's completely bare from the waist up. She scrabbles with her smallclothes, shimmying them down her hips to complete her nakedness.

He hikes her back up onto the stone and kisses her again—hot, wet, and wanton. The stone is smooth from thousands of years of weathering under her buttocks, chill to the touch. But then, Zelda is already cold, heated skin erupting into gooseflesh as she reclines. Water seeps from her hair, pooling around her as she lowers her back to the ground, lifting and parting her legs to make room for him to lean over her.

Link's lips near scald her when he begins trailing kisses down her body. He worries a red mark into the space underneath her breast, before trailing down, over her stomach to between her thighs. He kneels, as if in prayer—as if he's before an altar, though the real one is behind him. As if there's anything about Zelda worth worshipping.

She can almost feel the judgement in eyes of the statue of Hylia, gazing placidly down at them from across the water, as Her holy champion prepares to put his mouth on Her descendant.

It makes her burn all over.

He presses wet kisses from her knee up her thigh, teeth and tongue gentle on her skin. Careful, ever careful not to leave evidence behind. She wishes he could mark her properly, that he could suck bruises into her skin, to leave his mark on soft flesh—but a princess has no privacy. Someone will see.

Her father would be furious. Even if Zelda denied that it was Link who had touched her, even if anyone believed her, he would still be dismissed for taking his eyes off her long enough for her to take a lover.

It had taken her a long time to accept that Link's post had been earned. As the Chosen Hero, the only thing he'd have to do would be to help her seal the looming darkness. He doesn't have to be her protector. Any old knight can be a royal bodyguard; he had earned the job with his bravery and skill.

He doesn't have to be her friend, either; he'd wormed his way into her affections with his kindness and compassion, by making her feel listened to and cared about and seen.

She doesn't want to take his accomplishments away from him. So she bites her tongue and doesn't beg him to leave evidence behind.

Her eyes stare up, unseeing, at the night sky as his lips finally close around her clit, tongue flicking gently. Her shaking hand reaches down and cards through his hair as she sighs, eyes slipping closed to block out the moon and the stars above.

The warmth of him is solid and real, something she can reach out and physically touch. His presence has gone from a thorn stuck in her side, reminding her of her failures, to a warm comfort that soothes the ache of disappointment every time her prayers go unanswered.

One of her feet slips to dangle in the sacred waters. Link hefts it up over his shoulder without breaking away from her. His fingers dig into her hips as he pulls her closer, bare skin scraping against stone.

She whimpers when two fingers slide into her, flexing and searching for the spot he'd discovered last time—the spot that had made her squirm and shake and cry out.

It's good—he's so good. He gives and gives and gives and gives, and never asks for anything in return. He'd nearly had an aneurysm the first time she'd gotten on her knees for him, in the woods on the way home from the Spring of Courage, trying to assure her that she didn't have to, that he was okay, that he didn't need her to do that for him.

She wonders if he'll let her do it again.

Maybe, she thinks foggily as he finds what he's looking for and she cries out, she's been worshiping at the wrong altar all along. She'd certainly felt a kind of power with her lips wrapped around him, his hand gentle in her hair as he'd steadied himself against a tree with a soft groan. It had been wicked, and sinful, and not even the tiniest bit holy, but it had been something.

Her hips jump against his face as he sucks, massaging her from the inside. The hand in his hair tangles and pulls, her free one scrabbling against stone without finding purchase. He twists his fingers, and her eyes fly wide, back arching off slick stone as her mouth opens in a silent scream.

Stars spin above her as moonlight ripples on the water around him. When she collapses onto her back and lifts her head to look down at her knight, she finds him haloed in reflected light.

His eyes are on her. She shivers as their gazes lock, something dark and feral hidden behind blown out pupils drinking her in.

Her head drops back against the ground, whimpers breaking free as her thighs start to twitch and her hips begin to grind against his face. It won't be long, now. Link is incredibly skilled in all that he does—it only makes sense that that extends into bed sports, too.

For once, she doesn't envy him his proficiency. Not with her being the beneficiary of this particular skill.

She comes with a cry rending the night air.

He withdraws his hand and lips as she comes down, spent and twitching and boneless. The chill is beginning to seep in; her teeth start to chatter as she pushes herself into a sitting position. Link is bent over in the spring, using the sodden hem of his tunic to wipe off his lips and chin with sacred water.

She spies the Goddess statue over his shoulder, her eyes narrowing in contempt against imagined condemnation. As if she's wilfully sullying Link with her imperfections when he has every opportunity to say 'no'.

"I'll get your dress, Princess." Link offers into the silence, voice strained but utterly unwilling to ask anything of her.

Zelda's hand snatches out, wrapping around his wrist. Wide, dilated eyes find hers.

She loves to see him unmade, the image of Hyrule's perfect hero mussed and blurred. He looks wild; wet up to his chest, hair loose and unkempt, flush high in his cheeks and eyes dark with want. He looks perfectly mortal and human and attainable.

She doesn't know what he sees when he looks at her. She's sure she can't look like more than a pathetically naked girl with reckless fury in her eyes. Not directed at him—never at him, not anymore—but against a world and a Goddess that asks so much of her that she just cannot do.

"Come here." She tugs his wrist.

He steps back between her thighs.

Undoing his belt is easy enough; metal doesn't become harder to handle when wet. The ties on his trousers give her a little more trouble, but she gets them undone enough to draw him out and into her hands.

She seriously considers spinning him around and sinking to her knees before him in a different kind of prayer than the kinds she's spent all day fruitlessly offering. But she spots the statue again, and something wild and self-destructive takes hold in her chest.

"Come here." She says again, scooting forward until she's just hanging over the edge of the stone.

He seems to read her intent. "Princess—we can't—"

"Why not?" She challenges, breathing into his ear, trailing butterfly kisses down his jaw to the corner of his lips. "Because I'm a princess? I don't care about that."

He says nothing in response. She hears him swallow thickly.

She draws back to meet his gaze, eyebrows raised. Without saying a word, she begins to stroke him, touch feather soft. She knows the skin of her hands is silky and soft, maintained by a rigorous skincare routine imposed upon her by her maids. Logically, it must feel different from the times he's taken himself in hand, with all his calluses.

"We don't have to if you don't want to." She tells him as he screws his eyes shut and leans his palms on the ground on either side of her hips. He doesn't answer right away. She tightens her fist around him a little, delighting in the soft grunt he lets out, frame jolting against hers.

"I want to." He groans, his forehead coming to rest against her shoulder. "But I shouldn't."

"If you want to, you should." She kisses the tip of his ear. "I want to." She teases a little, taking it between her teeth and biting gently.

His answering chuckle is hot against her collarbone. "As my Princess commands."

He never calls her by name, she thinks with displeasure. She's given up trying to tell him to.

His hands are rough and callused on her hips as he drags her forward, almost completely off her purchase; she's forced to leverage herself against him, breasts crushed to his chest as he reaches down to hold himself. The fabric of his tunic rubs against her nipples, sending shocks of sensation whizzing through her.

Her arms wrap around his frame as he presses inside her. One hand fists in the sodden fabric of his tunic, the other in his wild hair as she stretches around his intrusion—a delicious burn that she feels creeping all the way along her spine and punching the breath from her lungs.

The statue watches on as they breach this final barrier—a line they've never crossed before in all their fumbling exploration. This is something so far beyond forbidden that it crosses over into taboo. Even if she'd ordered him at knifepoint to take her, Link could be executed for his.

The thought makes her nearly combust. His entire frame shudders as her legs wrap around his waist, ankles locking over his clothed buttocks.

"Are you alright?" His face is buried in her neck, nose bumping against her pulse. "It doesn't hurt?"

"You feel wonderful." She breathes, tightening her limbs around him.

For once, she feels wild and free and alive.

Zelda's mother had told her a legend of the Goddess when she'd been a little girl. It was said, her mother told her, that the Goddess had loved Her chosen hero so much that She had chosen to submit Herself to the cycle of reincarnation when he'd been cursed by a great evil, so that She would be there to support him when he was inevitably reborn. The hero was Her true love, destined to find and love Her in every life.

Zelda certainly doesn't feel like Hylia reborn—but Link is, without question, Her beloved hero. And, right now, in this moment, he isn't Hylia's. He's hers. Zelda's. She holds him inside her body and within the circle of her arms, the heat of him seeping into her from the inside out.

His movements are jerky and unpractised, and probably not helped by the tight hold she keeps on him. Water sloshes around his thighs and he grunts against her throat. His hands cradle her hips, moving her with him in an instinctive rhythm that she can't even begin to understand.

She closes her eyes against the sight of the Goddess watching on in disapproval. She embraces her rumoured, supposed impiety. If her virtue isn't good enough to gain the Goddess's favour, then it's useless to her. Better to give it to someone who already finds her worthy.

"Touch me." She breathes into his ear, panting in time with his movements.

A hand leaves her hip to slide between their bodies and fumble at slippery flesh. She forgets, briefly, who and where they are—she forgets about her failure and the disapproval of her father, about the whispers among the court and the condemnation of the Goddess, about her power and the ruin it will bring if she doesn't awaken it. All she knows is the man buried between her thighs; his grip on her hip, the feel of him in her arms, his breath skating across heated flesh.

She's still sensitive from her previous orgasm, fluttering around him as he jerks into her. That sensation, combined with his fingers, fills her to the brim and causes her skin to overheat.

He curses into her throat. "Princess—Princess I have to—" She feels him try to withdraw. She makes a noise of disapproval, pressing closer to him and tightening her legs around his hips. "Princess—I can't finish inside—"

Just the thought of it curls her toes. She comes again with a cry at his words, a distant part of her brain noting that mental stimulation seems just as effective as physical.

"Shit—shit—!" Link shudders in her arms, and she feels him grind against her, hand snatching back to her hip and pulling her roughly against him. There's a spasm and unfurling warmth spilling inside her. Her legs had locked around him in orgasm—she'd unintentionally prevented him from pulling out.

She should be worried about that, but she's strangely calm about the whole thing as they collapse against the stones in a heap of damp, panting cloth and flesh. Her fingers run absently through his hair as he presses his forehead into her breasts.

He tenses after a moment. "I'm sorry." He scrambles off of her, eyes wide and panicked. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's alright." She pushes herself to sit with shaky arms. Her nerves are still fluttering as she regains her breath.

"But—"

She shakes her head. She already feels cold without him. "There are medicines that can… flush out anything that takes root. Purah won't ask questions if I tell her I need one." She feels hollow as she says the words.

He relaxes, running his hands over his face.

The feeling grips her, sudden and unbidden, that she wishes she wouldn't need such an elixir. That, if she found herself carrying his child, they could elope like regular people and raise their baby far away from disapproving eyes.

Tears prick at her eyes as her mind follows that path—to a future where Calamity Ganon never comes, where she can keep him forever and won't get him killed with her ineptitude. She buries her face in her hands and curses the Goddess for taunting her by placing him within her reach, but surrounding them with circumstances that prevents her from holding him properly.

"Princess? Are you—did I hurt you?!" Link's voice is aghast. When she lifts her head, cheeks wet with tears, his expression is pained. It's the most expressive she's ever seen him—because he thinks he's done something to hurt her. As if he's ever truly done anything to hurt her. She can only laugh at the absurdity of it all.

"No." She shakes her head, looking down at the bare skin of her lap. She can feel his spend beginning to leak out of her, pooling on the stone and running into the sacred waters. "No, I'm fine. I just—I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry."

His hands come up to her shoulders, thumbs moving soothingly against her skin. His face ducks into her line of sight, eyes soft and kind. "Is there something I can do?"

You could run away with me, she thinks wistfully.

Instead of saying that, she gives him a watery smile. "Could you get my gown, please? I… need to clean up." She fights the urge to press her thighs together against the slightly uncomfortable trickling sensation.

"Of course." He doesn't kiss her again, like she wishes he would. Instead, he gives her shoulders a slight squeeze before letting go, wading toward the small waterfall and splashing down into the lower portion of the spring.

Zelda lowers herself back into the water. They've already defiled the spring by—she winces—fucking in it. She can't imagine cleaning away the evidence in its waters will damn her any more than she already has been.

It's terribly cold now that all is said and done. Still, she doesn't regret it. Now, even if they do succeed, even if her father decides to marry her off to some foreign prince or haughty noble, she can always remember that the first man she'd had had been one that she'd loved. Not a lot of women can say the same, especially women of rank.

She's not naïve enough to believe that she can ever keep Link in any meaningful way. Even if he loves her with the same all-consuming passion that she does him, her father would never permit it. Chosen by the Goddess or not, Link is a commoner. At best, if they somehow succeed, he'll be granted some kind of noble rank and shuffled off to a country estate to marry some nobleman's daughter, and Zelda will make the marriage that best secures Hyrule's political future.

And if they die, which is far more likely? Then at least she will have this experience to hold close to her heart for the rest of her short life.

As clean as she can make herself with only water and her own fingers, she wades, naked, out to stand in front of the altar with the statue. She pauses there for a moment, staring up at the Goddess's impassive face.

She offers no prayers, no supplications. She simply stares in defiance of the Goddess' judgement, daring Her to finally break Her silence to condemn her for her impiety.

Silence. There is only the rush of the water around her.

Sneering, Zelda slaps the surface of the spring, sending a wave of droplets spraying across the stone.

"Curse you." She mutters, glaring up at the statue.

It stares back placidly. Silently. Unflinchingly.

In this moment, Zelda has never hated anything more than the Goddess who turns a deaf ear to Her own descendant.

"Princess?" Link's voice calls over the spring. When she turns to him, he's holding a towel over his arm. "We should dry off. You'll get sick."

Her heart twists in her chest as she stares at him. Gods, but she wants to keep him. She wants to be able to hold him in her arms forever and tell him that she loves him, without having to worry about kings or countries or ancient evils.

But she is the Princess of Hyrule. Such a thing will never be within her grasp.

She wades toward him, taking his hand when he offers it to help her up the slippery steps. Gingerly, he wraps the towel around her shoulders. "I'll build up the fire again." He murmurs.

She nods silently. Then, he turns his back, and she says nothing as she watches him go.

"Curse you." She mutters under her breath again. Whether she's cursing Hylia, herself, her father, Ganon, or even Link… she doesn't know.

#zelink #zelink week 2023 #Day 2: Forbidden #my fanfiction

[bruised-muses]

HI BABE i would love you forever if you write something with wolfstar (idk if you ship them so feel free to ignore) maybe they haven't really admitted their feelings yet and they've been mutually pining over each other for years but they're oblivious but then one of them accidentally reveals their feelings? LOTS OF FLUFF PLEASE i need cute wolfstar for my heart

Remus writes Sirius letters, and doesn't plan to ever send them.

LISTEN I SWEAR I WAS PLANNING LIKE 500 WORDS but then it turned into 2k idk what happened but slay. hope you enjoy and thanks for asking!!

#fluff #fanfiction #writing #wolfstar #marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #remus x sirius #theyre in love your honor #wolfstar fluff #ask answered #svnflowermoon #askbox fics! #fic: this moment is the gift i wanted (just stay with me)

[sniperjade]

“How can I serve you, Master?”

The man’s voice rumbled, deep and resonant.

He was standing nonchalantly in the centre of Hermione’s laboratory, wearing a dark charcoal, military-style coat that fell open to reveal a brocade green waistcoat. Her eyes travelled upward over the neatly buttoned black shirt and the swirling silver and green tie. When she finally reached his face, he was already staring intensely at her, his bewitching dark eyes feeling like they could see right into her soul. He was a stunning creature, made of high cheekbones and softly curling black hair.

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat and pleasure pooled low in her stomach. The man’s eyes widened slightly, and a smile stretched over his lips as he watched her reaction.

This is impossible.

“Who are you?”

He shifted, to rest his weight on one leg, casually putting one hand in his trouser pocket. A gesture of indifference. “You can call me Varek.”

Hermione glanced quickly back at the lamp where it lay cold and dormant on her lab table. It was hard to believe only moments earlier, that it had exploded filling the room with black smoke and the acrid stench of burning. She’d had to cast Verula in order to avoid choking on it and even now, tufts of it remained hugging the corners of the room, casting shadow on the dark tile.

She crossed her arms in front of her.

“Fine. What are you?”

He licked his lips and tilted his head. “Your slave.”

Her breath caught and she tried to tell her traitorous body to fuck off, but his gaze travelled down her figure to where her thighs had tightened and smiled again. This man, Varek, was far too canny for his own good. It was as if he saw through every move and every word. The whole situation was ridiculous. Was she really supposed to believe that this well dressed man came out of a lamp?

Her mouth tightened into a hard line. “You know what I mean. Are you a genie?”

He brought up his free hand to pick at an invisible spot of lint on his collar as he sighed. “I prefer the term ifrit. I find the anglicised version ‘genie’ so crass, don’t you?”

Huffing out an irritated sigh, she continued, “And I suppose you are going to give me three wishes.”

He tilted his head down and looked up at her through his long lashes. “If that is what you require.”

What she required was information, not speculation and hearsay.

Hermione’s parents had taken her to see the movie Aladdin in the summer of 1993. A delayed showing at some dilapidated cinema, since she had missed the main release. It had seemed so ridiculous to her at the time. She knew that magic didn’t and couldn’t work that way.

This man was an impossibility and it irked her to be proven so wrong.

“Are you going to tell me I can’t wish for more wishes, for anyone to fall in love with me or to bring anyone back from the dead?” She counted them off on her fingers in a mocking tone.

Varek barked out a laugh and closed the two steps between them, his eyes roving over her. “Why on earth would I tell you that? Whatever you wish is my command.”

She held out a hand, her palm facing toward him as he came to a stop directly before her. He leaned forward until it was pressed flush against his hard chest. That was unexpected. She had thought he might be incorporeal but the muscle beneath her hand was definitely real. Real and warm and hard.

“Do I have to make a wish to make you do what I say?” she asked breathlessly.

He was close. This was ridiculous. Get it together Hermione. You’re not a child, and he’s just a man. You’ve bedded plenty of them. They’re always disappointing no matter how attractive or intelligent they are. But that was the thing, wasn't it? This man seemed to be attractive and intelligent and the way he said Master made her shiver to her very toes. Her body continued to ignore her.

All the men she had dated before, kept asking for things and never listened, leaving her feeling annoyed, irritable and profoundly unsatisfied. The only one who had come marginally close had been Michael Corner. She dated him a little over a year ago and whilst he was able to keep up with her in lively academic debate, that turned into furious kisses and tugs on his long dark hair. That was as far as the fire went. As soon as his lips were on hers, his hands went soft, and his words turned gentle, and it wasn’t enough.

Varek got down on his knees in front of her and spread his arms in supplication.

“That depends on what it is you want,” he hummed.

This man, this creature, knew exactly what to say to her. She stepped forward leaning down to cup his chin, words ready on the tip of her tongue — Continue on Ao3

#dramione #tomione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #tom riddle #hpfanfiction #hp fanfic #hpfanart #TrulyMadlyDeeplyFest2024

[spectra-bear]

Now that we're entering into 2024, I'm asking some artists and writers that I follow:

1) What is the one piece you're most proud of from this past year?

2) What are some pieces that you would have liked more people to see? If you can include links, I'd love to go check them out!

3) What were your top three favorite pieces (art, comics, fics, etc) that someone else has made this past year?

(As always, no pressure to respond! Feel free to just ignore, or let me know if you'd rather I not send you these kinds of asks in the future.)

1) i cant really choose a favorite piece, if i had to choose it would be a 3 part comic i havent posted yet because its based on a friend's writing, and its one one of my top favorite pieces, but the few above are among the few rendered pieces i like. also im a bigger fan of my animated work than artwork, but i should try to finish pieces more often

2) i dont think i bother with how much traction my artwork receives, i usually just throw stuff out there and leave, if i ever do check, i read tags and that’s about it, if i find even a single positive tag about how much they enjoy my post, its a good enough win for me

3) unfair question!!! i have too many favorite pieces, id be here all day and thats still not enough!!

there are numerous works across platforms that id like to fill into one list but, that being said, here are the few i can name from the top of my head:

kat, one of the friendliest and motivating artists ive encountered, after reading their main comic storyline replica that all i coukd ask for in a post apocalyptic story

https://www.tumblr.com/kathaynesart/700778336271679488/tip-jar-every-little-bit-is-appreciated-r-e-p-l

most of ingunn's work i love, but im a big fan of her comics

https://www.tumblr.com/thegunnsara/716508523672010752

ill never get over fuzz's pieces, nor will i ever get tired of rereading his comkc amongst many others i have archived

https://www.tumblr.com/r0b0t1me/706923481985662976

tapa and cass are two peas in a pod, amazing creations made at a speedy pace, i wish to match up with someday, both of their main ongoing bad future rottmnt comics are fun to check every now and then, not to mention their animated work

https://www.tumblr.com/somerandomdudelmao/710091900612476928/cass-apocalyptic-series-masterpost

https://www.tumblr.com/tapakah0/716125830953189376/life-of-violence-era-masterpost

another animator i look up to, most of their professional clean work i love to look back on and analyze to apply to my own work

https://www.tumblr.com/miiukkaa/718507959308664832/lesgo

#friendlyneighborhoodterrapin #spectra answers

[king-zigzag]

Tag nine people to get to know better (thanks for the tag @mrmallard!)

Note - if you've been tagged, feel free to answer or ignore any of these prompts based on your personal comfort level. You don't have to interact at all, and you can pick or choose what you do want to talk about if you choose to engage. There's no pressure.

Three ships: katarina/maria (hamefura) is endgame and i will hear no word to the contrary. i just binged murder drones and uzi/n is pretty cute. uhhhhh im not really a shipping guy so... OH vincharles duh

First ship: i wasnt really too into ships as a kid either? probably something simple from nintendo like link/midna or luigi/daisy

Last Song: i literally just listened to cotard's solution (anatta/dukkha/anicca) like a couple minutes before typing this

Last Movie: the first half of fight club on discord with my buddy donnie. i already know the twist (he knows this) and he keeps hyping me up whenever i connect thematic dots about stuff like masculinity and consumerism

Currently Reading: i hope visual novels count cuz im trying to drum up the will to finish 428 shibuya scramble. its not a bad game its just that you can get caught in bad ends so easily and getting out of them is so roundabout...

Currently Watching: i try and watch an episode of slayers whenever im eating. its charming! im also trying to watch the magnus archives for a friend but like, podcasts arent enough to hold my attention on their own but theres not a lot i can do that wouldnt overpower the experience of listening to tma. i also dont wanna associate pizza tower with dying in a cave maze.

Currently consuming: generic no-name department store juice concentrate. i also just at supper, it was leftover stir fry + sweet potato with cheese + tortellini

Currently Craving: im pretty full. which kinda sucks because there are so many snacks in this house that need to be eaten. cookies and gummies and cashews and corn twists...

I tag @autisticnari @flannelfloofs @adenthemage @haveyouseenmyhonor @vy2gumi @takemetotheastralagain @tumblingoverstars @democraticpeoplesrepublich @wavetapper

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: yellow's not my favorite color aka: Gordon's Birthday Mini-Scenes 2

Pure, self-indulgent Fish-Tank for your Gordon's birthday celebrations. I am unapologetic about this.

Also, it's hardcore fluff this time, promise!

For @gumnut-logic FabFiveFeb and @godsliltippy who also has a one shot about this idea, which you can read here. It's great. :D

Characters: Virgil, Gordon Words: 1362 Genre: Fluff

Where Gordon had free reign, chaos was sure to follow. This meant there were a few places around the villa he was barred from entering. It included each of his brothers’ bedrooms, Brains’ lab, and Virgil’s studio. So naturally, those were the places he tried to frequent on a regular basis. Either out of spite, or boredom, for the love of the challenge, or just to get under his family members’ skin, Virgil didn’t know.

Little brothers. Annoying as hell.

He’d taken precautions. Ignoring the fact that he’d had a grand time designing the lettering of his do not disturb sign and the that means Squids underneath, he’d also reset the code on his lock just in case the request for privacy went ignored.

Which is why it still surprises him when his door swings open with a hiss backed by a triumphant whoop from the exact squidling of a brother he needed to keep out in the first place.

“Great job on the lock there, V!”

“What is wrong with you?!” He can’t help it; it comes out screeching, as he’s more occupied trying to block his brother from seeing what’s on the canvas than he is the tone of his voice. The shock hinders his ability to sound authoritative and intimidating the way he’d want – plus, that never seemed to work on Gordon in the first place. “How did you get in?” he demands.

“Johnny,” Gordon says, sauntering his way further in, and turning to examine the pristine collection of art supplies Virgil’s got organized and displayed. “He thought I couldn’t break your code. Turns out, I can. Take that, Space Case.” He sticks his tongue out at the ceiling.

“You annoyed him to the point he gave you a challenge to get you out of his hair,” Virgil corrects, “and into mine. Thanks, John.”

“Call it what you will. But we do need to talk about your passwords. Kip Harris’ birthday, really, Virgil?”

He flushes. “Gordon, I’m working on your birthday present. You can’t just barge-”

“I know, and I looked away.” He swirls back to him, a set of art pencils in his hands. “Promise.”

“Put those down!” His footsteps thunder and he can feel his blood pressure skyrocketing the longer Gordon grins at him, not backing down. “This is why you’re not allowed in here.”

It’s supposed to be his quiet space, his sacred space.

 “I’m just bored.”

His meditative space.

“Please, Virgil?”

His. Own.

“Please. You know how I get when it’s raining.”  

“Fine,” he huffs, prying his expensive set of pencils of Gordon’s hands and placing them back where they belong on the shelf and instead grabbing a set of sharpened Crayola. “But you use these.”

“Thanks, Virgil.”

Gordon selects a sketchpad too, and Virgil also watches him like a hawk to make sure it’s one he’s comfortable with Gordon drawing in. Gordon knows better than to look through his sketches, so he’s really only allowed to touch the yellow book. Virgil had chosen it that way for a reason, since Gordon was drawn to the color yellow the way fireflies were drawn to light.

Virgil watches him as he moves around the space. There’s a chance the pressure has caused pain in his back, but Virgil knows better than to ask. Gordon will tell him if he needs anything more than a distraction from the fact the rain has left his usual haunts – the pool, the lagoon, the beach -  inaccessible. Virgil still notes that he moves a little stiffly, hinting at perhaps that his brother is handling some pain.

His brother settles into the comfortable armchair nestled below the massive leaves of Virgil’s monstera plant. Her pot is to the right of him, but she towers within the room, flourishing the way Virgil likes it – a little unruly, and using the environment around her as support. In a place where he’s got everything meticulously organized, the whims of the plantlife remind him that nature is beautiful in spite of not being perfect. And it’s kind of right that his most chaotic sibling sometimes finds solace beneath her shadows, where the fenestrations in her leaves form stripes of shade over his face as he doodles in Virgil’s book.

In his brother’s book, which Virgil keeps in his studio and might sometimes leave little fishy sketches in.

Virgil’s got Gordon’s birthday present on the easel, and his set up is luckily angled in the right position where Gordon can’t see what he’s working on from his corner, and for a bit they work together in silence.

For a bit.

“Have you heard about the sea turtles over in California?” Gordon starts, and Virgil tunes him out because, while he does actually listen to what Gordon has to say most times, Virgil knows that he’s just speaking to fill the silence. He nods and hmms at appropriate times because he’s got bigger fish to fry at the moment than listening to Gordon rave about the latest in his collection of news articles or marine podcast, which (for the record) Gordon’s also no doubt already ranted to John about. So, he doesn’t actually need Virgil to respond.

Virgil’s busy frowning at his palette of colors. His skyline is complete and he’s figured out which way he’d like his light source to be coming from, but his vision for the painting feels off. He can’t put his finger on why, but he has to decide soon. He’ll have to scrap the painting if he gets too far along and decides it’s not what he’s going for.

The problem is Gordon.

It’s always Gordon, but in this case it’s not the babbling in front of him. It’s the fact he wants to do this right and his brother’s favorite color is yellow. Of all things, bright yellow.

“ – and so their shell designs are like our fingerprints and – why are you staring at that paint tube like it killed our puppy?”

“We don’t have a puppy.”

“Mhmm. And?”

Virgil finally glances up at him. “Why do you have to like yellow so much?”

“Uhhh, because it’s a delight. Why?”

“My brain’s not letting me use it, but it’s your birthday gift so I’ve been trying to figure it out how to include it,” Virgil laments. He gives him a small, wry smile, holding up the offending tube of paint for Gordon to see. “Would you hate me for not including your favorite color?”

Gordon squints at it from across the room. “Yellow’s not my favorite color.”

“Excuse me?” It’s a good thing the lid was on his paint tube. “What in the world? Gordon.” He laughs in an almost hysterical panic because this? This is ground-shaking knowledge, world-shifting, in fact. “You wore yellow speedos every swim meet!  But your favorite shirt – and Four – your favorite flowers are sunflowers!”

“Well, yeah. Yellow’s my luckiest color. And my happiest,” he agrees. “But it’s not my favorite.”

“What’s your favorite, then?”

Gordon bounces out of the chair, and slides his way into Virgil’s space, taking care not to step around the front view of the painting. He takes the paint tube out of Virgil’s hands and examines it, smiling. “Daffodils are also up there as far as favorites go, but here” - he hands it back to Virgil and rummages through the selection of paint tubes, pulling a new one free –  “green.”

Gordon hands it over to him, and his vision blurs staring at it. It’s his green, the green of spring, and the dress their mother wore the first time she took him to an art museum, and Two.

“It makes me feel safe,” Gordon tells him quietly.  “And that’s a really, really good feeling.”

“Damn,” Virgil curses as he feels his emotions pooling at the corners of his eyes. “I’m supposed to be mad at you for breaking and entering and snooping.” He drags Gordon into his arms, still holding the tube of paint between his fingers but curling his hand around the mess of hair at the top of Gordon’s head. “You do this on purpose, don’t you?”

“Mhmm,” Gordon mumbles into his paint-smeared work shirt. “Sap. But it’s still true.”

#gavii scribit #fabfivefeb #fabfivefeb2023 #gordon tracy #virgil tracy #for the love of fishtank

[hotmessteaparty]

The Conjuring One Shot

Now. I know this is not the normal stuff that I post on this blog and I apologize. But I literally don't have any other blog where I can post this so yeah, here we go. If you're not a fan of the conjuring or this ship please feel free to just ignore this 😊

Other than that I welcome you stranger on this very weird ride 😂

I don't really have a lot of canon ships and even less of them are straight. Actually I don't have any huge straight ships I believe. What can I say, I'm just a 🍳 girl who loves the queers :)

So when I dipped into the LorEd hole, ngl I was scared. And I didn't want to ship it, but damn fictional Ed & Lorraine just have my whole heart. I feel like it important here to say that we do not stan the real life Warren's in this house, especially Ed (they literally can go rot somewhere else). This is entirely about fictional Ed & Lorraine, portrayed by Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga.

Which brings us here to my very first oneshot about other things than pirates and trauma and killing and drug abuse 😂 I'm scared let me tell you. It also probably says a lot about me that the first thing I write about them is straight up porn, but oh well. I'm happily spending time in horny prison.

Also someone tagged then under "horny catholic nerds" so this is what I call them now forever 😂

Last but not least I wanted to thank @josephseedismyfather for being the awesome friend that you are and that you beta read this train wreck. You put in sm work it's insane. I'm so thankful met you love ❤️

#the conjuring fanfiction #the conjuring fic #the conjuring #ed warren #lorraine warren #lored #my beloved #ed warren x lorraine warren #ed x lorraine #one Shot #ed and lorraine supremacy #read on ao3

[myhusbandsasemni]

Nine People Tag/Get to know me

Aight let's goooooooooo Thanks for the tag @axl-ul

Tagging @creamyhoneyheart @zmwrites @writingonesdreams @vsnotresponding @brieflyinfatuated @i-can-even-burn-salad Feel free to ignore if you want and if you see this and want to have a go, feel free to do so

Three Ships

I don't do much shipping. I mostly ship my own characters and then make it cannon, but let me do a think and I'll figure this out. What fandoms am I in?

So, the two characters from @toastyglow's escape from divinity animatics (IDK their names but I think about them a lot)

Obi-wan/Satine

Jester/Fjord from The Mighty Nien

Lol, I did it

Currently Listening

I played this song with my band in highschool and me and my sibs were reminicing.

Last Movie

Quest for Camelot! It's one of my favorite movies ever!

Currently Reading

Good Omens :) I'm reading it as fast as I can so I can watch the show with my friend

Currently Watching

I'm not currently watching anything really. I just finished with The Magnus Archives and I'm getting ready to do Good Omens.

Currently Craving

Mmmmm Spirit, probably. That movie is another of my favorites. Either that, Avatar, or Titan AE.

Current Obsession

The story I'm writing with @writing-whump I can't stop thinking about that story. It is so so fun!

#ask game #writing #shows #movies #games like this are so hard #I have to get my memory involved #Youtube

[theneighborhoodwatch]

an update

apologies for any erratic or otherwise concerning behavior on my part that you may have noticed, neighbors! i won't get into the gritty details, but as it turns out, i May have been experiencing a nervous breakdown over these past few weeks. not because of welcome home, mind you. it was a number of things in my personal life, and i've been feeling much better since i've been finally able to address it - but it has made me Reevaluate a few things wrt how i've been going about things here, so i'll be going over those in a quick little numbered list under the cut:

i am no longer running or even in the discord server. one of the moderators, @/doctorcottonghost, offered to take it off my hands, and i accepted. ergo, i will no longer be able to answer any questions about whether or not invites or open.

in a similar vein, i've removed the "community areas" section on my links page. i do not think it was doing me any favors to be Constantly Aware of these large swathes of people. if you came from r/WelcomeHomeNeighbor, however, you are still free to peruse my observation document and send in questions/findings/etc. once my inbox opens back up (and do see if they need more mods over there!)

i do not plan on abandoning the observation document! i will still update it to the best of my ability as each update comes. i love archiving/cataloguing/etc., so it's a source of great joy in my life (and i really need to move the backup links section to its own page, anyway. it's been hard to find time for it since my computer broke.)

more of a reminder than an update, and i'm aware that i have no Actual control over people's actions, but i'll restate this in no uncertain terms for anyone who cares (at the risk of looking like a bit of a kiss-ass): please do keep clown's boundaries in mind - TL;DR: no public nsfw, no merch. both of these are subject to change in the future. that's it. do not exaggerate, do not try to find loopholes, and for the love of god, do not threaten people into following these boundaries or spread misinformation just to make it seem like you have a point. if you see someone continue to ignore these boundaries while they are still up - or even your own personal ones! - after being informed of them, be a goddamn adult, use the goddamn block button, and don't give them any more of your time or attention. (and probably report them, if we're talking about merch.)

i may need more time before i open my inbox back up. i haven't been in quite the right State of Mind for deep speculation, so i want to get through the more lighthearted stuff first before working my way up to those. once i've cleared everything out, i'll probably open my inbox back up - but anon may stay off for some time.

and i think that's everything! now i am going to have a nice big dinner and then i'll come back and Attempt to answer some asks. i've also taken down my more mopey posts from the past 2 days, so i don't clog this blog. have a nice evenin'.

#public notice #i'd tag this with soapboxing but eh. it's only one part of this post

[29daffodils]

9 Fandom Peeps to Get to Know Better

Augghh I love these games! thank you for tagging me Mickey 🥺🌸(@thisautistic)

3 Ships You Like :

1. Yohan/Moogyeong from The Shape of Your Love (manhwa by Park Nodeok)

this is my ultimate OTP. i never had OTPs before them. they'll be my rise and fall. but yeah, anyway. they. my boys.

2. Vegas/Pete from KinnPorsche The Series

they had me by the throat even before i knew kpts existed and just, well. then i watched kpts and found them and they were everything i hoped for and more. a lot of it is also because vegas and i are very much alike without the mass murder aspect 😂

3. Alan/Gaipa from Moonlight Chicken

listen, MLC is like, the best thing i've watched in a while and alangaipa gave me what i had been craving since yohan/moogyeong c. 2019 : a small rare/ghost ship with barely any screentime but that hooked people in worldwide. firstkhao's acting was just bonus. alangaipa represent everything that i want from my own life. i couldn't not love them.

First Ship Ever :

Kanata/Miyu from Da!Da!Da!

oh, these two. i was head over heels in love with them. i shipped them even when i didn't know that shipping existed or what it meant, when we didn't even have anime on TV besides the broadcast on SONY at 5pm sometimes. i just wanted them in love and happy and raising a kid together. ugh i miss them.

Last Song You Heard :

The Moon Represents My Heart, by the Moonlight Chicken cast! God do I love this song so much! It fits all the ships so well! The lyrics are gold! (I also recently found that this is a cover of the OG by Teresa Teng and that's even more beautiful??)

(also, this has been helping me visualize and write a lot of sand/ray, surprisingly enough.)

Favorite Childhood Book :

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

ahhh, well, this is embarassing. i didn't have a favourite book until adulthood actually. and it's my only favourite (as in something i've read time and again). i don't think i'll ever find another book like this one. this is it for me. nothing can ever top this. (yes, I'm very picky about my favourites lmao)

Currently Reading :

i found out this fic exists because of twitter discourse lmao, and I'm not even a dramione fan, i'll probably never read another work, but goddamn, the writing was stellar. lived up to all that hype. good stuff. (I'm almost at the end so wish me luck!)

Currently Watching :

Our Dining Table

no offence to those who love this, i loved the manga when i read it years ago, but lord was i bored to death even on the second trial at watching this lol. I'm soldiering on though, i'll get through this!

Currently Consuming :

Thai BLs

uhh... not sure what answer this demands actually, so, uhhh... lots of thai BL i guess? that's really what i've been consuming lately. i had never watched thai BLs before KPTS in 2023 so it's eye opening, they've gotten better ( i tried once before , quite a while back when a friend recommended, and i found it ridiculous so i never thought i'd actually ever watch any again lol, mostly because i never was a fan of live action BL dramas in general)

Currently Craving :

💵💵💵💵

well, i'll be honest here, money is vital and that's what I'm craving lol, i gotta feed myself and my cats and pay a 50k laptop repair bill that my company thrust on me even though it's not my fault it's damaged. anyway, essentially I'm experiencing financial doom among other unfortunate events, so here's your chance to commission a fic or donate at my KOFI so...... haha.

alright, this was super fun! I'm tagging @skyfish7 @semantics-error @justfionn @boyslovecorner @peachym00 @lilitblaukatz @ae-azile

(please feel free to ignore if you're feeling up to it!)

#tag game #my posts #source : 29daffodils