#also picturing him in a lesson hall too. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mermaidgirl30 · 3 months

Text

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Part 1: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge✨

A/N: SO excited for me and @mountainsandmayhem to bring you a Moulin Rouge Joel Miller series ❤️ We are both so excited to be writing this and hope you love it as much as we do! Hang on tight for the ride of your life between these two on their angsty, beautiful love story 🥰 Comments and reblogs mean the world to us! Chapters are in both reader’s and Joel’s POV. No explicit smut in first chapter.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Tags: Angst, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, forbidden love, murder, fluff and smut, jealousy, moulin rouge au, soulmates being in love, protective Joel, no outbreak, reader is 20 and Joel is 29, tags will be updated each chapter

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t know what awaits him as he takes on a maintenance job at the Moulin Rouge. He doesn’t know he’ll meet the absolute love of his life, the Sparkling Diamond, as his world comes crashing down around him fast. Will he be able to stay away when he’s warned not to touch the dancers? Will he listen or will he challenge that pull that draws him to the one thing that sets his soul on fire?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

Your whole childhood centered around death, but you never thought about the possibility of yourself dying, never thought about how you’d like to go. As your vision blurs and the world begins to silence, you realise that this is the ultimate way to go. For her. Saving her is all that matters, saving the person you love the most in the entire world, even if you’ve never met her.

Sarah, please Joel. Name her Sarah.

At times, your childhood may have seemed sad or tragic to the outside eye, but to you it has been nothing short of amazing. You don’t remember the incident that took both your parents, you were too young, so young that you can’t even picture their faces. You were brought to stay with the only family you had left - your mom’s much older brother.

Your uncle Edward was a quiet and kind man, he was also the owner of Moulin Rouge. A bright and colorful dance hall, filled with sparkling costumes and lively music. For the longest time you weren’t allowed outside of the living quarters, but you remember laughter and cheering filtering through the thin walls. This place was magic to you in your childhood naivety.

You remember begging the dancers to teach you the steps to the songs you overheard in the night. Occasionally, one of them would show you a kick or a twirl that you’d practice alone in your room until the muscles in your legs were stretched and sore, no longer able to support your tiny frame.

During the day, a tutor came in for a few hours to teach you and the few other children that lived there, meals were brought to your living quarters by an older woman who rarely spoke to you. Uncle Edward was alway home for those meals, but often had stacks of papers to go through. Most of the time it was just you and the broken guitar and pottery wheel your uncle had given you. But overall you were alone, far away music and laughter to keep you company.

For your thirteenth birthday your uncle surprised you with dance lessons. He knew how much you wanted to learn, and could practically feel the energy buzzing off you every time your eyes darted to the performing dancers. So he gave in, gifting you with something that might bring you a little joy in the isolated burlesque. A silent way of telling you he was sorry for not being around much and leaving you to delve in your loneliness inside your vacant room.

“Well, little petal,” your uncle says as you blow out the singular candle sitting on top of the small cake to celebrate you turning sixteen. “I think you’re old enough now to come up and watch my diamonds perform. What do you say? Would you like to come see the show?”

You practically jumped from your seat, mouthful of chocolate cake, “Yes, Uncle! Please. Nothing could make me happier.”

“Tomorrow night I will bring you up to see it. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.”

You’d seen the costumes and the women in their makeup before, you’ve even been out to the dance hall and on the stage. But that was only during the day, when the tables were only occupied by up-turned chairs, the overhead lights were off, and the band was nothing more than an empty pit in front of the stage.

The next night, your uncle brought you a new sparkly pink dress, and had the hair and make-up ladies get you all dolled up to watch. You looked at yourself in the mirror and had never felt more beautiful, seeing yourself as one of the famous diamonds of the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

The show was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You didn’t know so many varieties of reds and blues and purples existed. The women kicked their legs in unison, men cheering and clapping as they swooshed their large billowing skirts. The music filled your ears with joy and wonder, the sounds crisper than they were through the walls. Laughter and happiness held you like a tight hug. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

As the show wound down, your Uncle leaned to you and said it was time to head to bed, “You’ve seen the show, little petal. Now the adults will indulge in wine and talk about things not for your ears.”

You didn’t argue, simply kissing your uncle on the cheek and saying, “Thank you, Uncle. I am going to practice harder so I can become a real diamond one day!”

You floated down the hallway. With your eyes still swarming with the bright colors of the show and your future dreams you hadn’t realised that you opened the door before the one to take you home, and this door led to something both sinister and unspeakable - it led to darkness. The room was only lit by candles sprawled across the wall, casting looming shadows of the acts happening before your very eyes.

You stood in the doorway taking in men and women completely naked, rubbing up against one another incessantly. Your tutor taught you that these areas of your body are not to be shared, they are only for you. Yet here they are, almost unashamed as they grind. The men all appear to be having a good time, but the women - they’re crying out.

Are they in pain? What are these men doing to them? Why are some men just watching? They should be helping. Your uncle, does he know that this is happening? Is this what his diamonds do?

Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

You nervously approached your Uncle about it a few days later. “Oh, my sweet little petal. I’m sorry that you had to witness that. I promise you, none of those women were in pain. Not all my diamonds dance like that, and you never will. I meant it when I offered you a spot to dance, fully clothed and on the stage only. I only hope that you do not think less of me now that you know what goes on behind closed doors of the Moulin Rouge.”

Four Years Later

Joel stumbles into the doors of the Moulin Rouge after seeing the maintenance worker needed sign displayed in bold letters outside the burlesque. This was the last place he wanted to end up, the last place he’d be caught dead in; but he needed something, and anything was better than the minimal income of selling his woodwork. He couldn’t get by anymore by only getting one or two customers every couple of weeks, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough to pay the rent of his small, cramped apartment. Wasn’t enough to feed himself day and night. He needed more, and this was his shot.

He pushes the heavy black doors open, quickly tucking his red flannel button-up into his pressed pants, needing to look his best if he wants to get this job. He has to get it, has to impress whoever is the owner of this club.

He finds the first person he can spot, quickly getting the attention of a bartender as he washes crystal glasses with a thin rag behind the sleek bar top.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw the sign out front that said you need some help with maintenance around here?” he asks briskly as he stares at the bartender with eyes that say he’s desperate. His hands come to rest on the bar top and he fights the urge to nervously drum his fingers along it.

The bartender looks him over as he sets down a glass, nodding his head. “Oh, yes. Let me go grab the owner real quick. Be right back, wait here,” he says as he runs in the opposite direction, disappearing behind a long hallway. Joel nervously pushes back his outgrown curls, silently cursing to himself for buying that loaf of bread instead of getting a haircut. His big brown eyes dart curiously around the club, trying to take it all in.

It’s light outside as the sun glistens in through the drawn crimson curtains, some dancers sauntering on stage as they practice their moves, swaying their hips to a nonexistent beat. Joel averts his eyes and takes in the rest of the large room - it’s filled with tables that are meant for the men to smoke cigars and drink their alcohol as they drool over the women of the burlesque. All lust and no love, the way the burlesque was set up to be. Joel was never into this scene, never fit in with any of those types of men, but he was desperate, he needed work and this may very well be the only way he can get any.

A tall, thin man walks into the room with slicked back sandy hair and green eyes that are as sharp as a snake’s. He eyes Joel carefully, one hand resting in his pocket, the other stretching to shake Joel’s. Joel wastes no time and reaches a hand out, feeling a firm grasp as the owner shakes his hand.

“The name’s Edward. And you are?” he asks with a gentle smile.

“I’m Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with nerves running through his body, the back of his neck slick with sweat. He’s nervous he won’t get it, nervous he’ll leave empty handed with no job. He’ll fight for it though because he’s a fighter, and he doesn’t give up easily.

“So, I hear you’re interested in the maintenance job. You got any experience?” Edward asks as he leans against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest as he examines Joel again, taking in his flannel and tan pants, his worn work boots.

“Yes, sir. Got years of experience with fixin’ things. Anything from sinks to building homes. Even have a little woodworking shop on the side,” he says proudly as he tries not to fidget with the buttons on his flannel.

“Hmmm,” Edward hums as he looks him over again carefully, those bright green eyes staring at Joel’s clothes like he’s judging him. Joel swallows down that dry lump of self doubt creeping in. “You seem capable. How old are you? Think you can handle working at nights, too? Gets pretty rowdy around here when the moon comes up, but that’s when we need someone the most,” he presses, eyes shifting over him as his brow raises in question again, waiting for Joel to respond.

“Just about to turn thirty and ‘course. Nights don’t bother me one bit. I can even start today, if I can,” Joel says with a determined smile as he shoves his left hand deep into his pocket, praying he’ll get the job.

“I see. Well then, looks like you got yourself a new gig. See you tonight at let’s say 7:00 pm,” he says, reaching a hand out to Joel. For most men that would be a question, but Edward is a very rich and powerful man, he doesn’t ask for things, he demands them. Joel doesn’t hesitate for a second and puts his grip in Edward’s, shaking in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” he says with tears almost filling his eyes. A job, he finally has a job that’ll get him by just fine. No more nights of going hungry. He can finally breathe a second, if not more.

Before he turns to leave, Edward puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around carefully. “Oh, forgot to mention something. There’s only one condition I ask of you. Don’t touch my dancers. They’re strictly for the guests that pay,” he says with furrowed brows, his eyes burning into him, as if to see if Joel will flinch at all.

“That’ll be no problem on my part. Promise,” Joel confirms with a nod of his head, his tousled curls moving with the motion.

“Good, good…” Edward hums out. “Alright, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wave as he turns around and heads back behind crimson curtains, disappearing into a dark hallway.

Joel can’t help but smile as he heads out the doors of the Moulin Rouge, stepping into the warm sunshine as it bathes across his tanned skin. He takes a breath of fresh air as it smells of autumn leaves and new hope.

Things start to feel like they’re looking up, like something nirvanic was right on the cusp. What Joel doesn’t know is just what waits around that heavy crimson curtain for him. He doesn’t know the beautiful disaster he’s about to step into. A Sparkling Diamond that will take over his life forever. Someone so precious, so special, so indescribably unique. Someone so very - you.

Joel makes sure to get to the Moulin Rouge fifteen minutes early, wanting nothing more than to give off a good impression. The burlesque is filling up quickly as the sun fades away, the bright full moon taking its place in the sky, stars scattering around it.

When he walks inside the double doors, he sees that the dance hall is filling up quickly with men who smoke expensive cigars and drink bottles of whiskey that he can only dream of affording. He makes his way further into the entrance, his eyes taking in his surroundings, noticing that the large room looks nothing like earlier when it was closed.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings as red curtains drape across the crimson wallpaper. The dance floor is littered with burlesque dancers that lift their skirts high and tease the men as they surround them, hoping to entice the wealthiest one. Money is what they’re after and selling themselves is their only shot at making any extra tips for the night.

Joel clenches his jaw at the sight and turns his head, waiting at the front until he finally spots Edward in a black pressed suit. His blonde hair slicked back tight, looking around to make sure his guests are happy and taken care of. When he sees Joel, he walks toward him and puts a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“Ahh, there you are. Come along now. I’ll show you around,” he says gladly.

After that, he shows Joel the burlesque. He takes him to the maintenance closet and gives him a key to access it - metal tools and large shelves cover the entirety of the inside. Next he takes him down long, dark corridors, past rooms that are locked shut. Just when Joel thinks he's seen it all, they head up to the second story. Sweeping down wooden laden hallways, passed the balcony that overlooks the large city, and through winding rooms that seem to have no end. He had no idea it was so large and spacious here; didn’t even realise people lived here. Joel starts to think more softly towards Edward, sure these women put themselves in vulnerable positions night after night, but they have safe housing and a sense of family and community back here.

Edward takes Joel back down toward the main ballroom where the entertainment is held every night. Just as he latches on to the spiral staircase, he sees a man dragging a dancer with barely anything on into a dark room at the end of the luminescent hallway with red carpet sprawled across the floor. He shoves her in as he starts working his hands up her body, and Joel can see the mass of bodies already in the room as he closes the door, concealing moans and lust on the other side of the tarnished doorway.

Joel gulps and looks back toward the ground, keeping his eyes off the pleasure room. He knows what goes on in these walls, knows what filth lies in every corner. The stench of money and sex encompass the room, he can almost taste it on the tip of his rough tongue. He finds it revolting, men using these women's bodies. No love to be seen in these walls. Only perversions and sexual desire. He turns away sharply and descends the stairs, almost running into the back of Edward.

“I believe one of the wooden tables over by the stage needs some maintenance. The legs are collapsing, think you can do something about that?” he asks with a raised brow as he points at a dark wooden table with the legs barely hanging on.

“Sure. Probably just needs some tightening up. Easy fix,” Joel nods.

“Excellent. I have guests to greet, so fix that and then come find me,” just as he turns on his heel, he stops and looks back at Joel. Green eyes narrowing, a finger pointing in Joel’s direction. “Remember,” he says with venom in his voice, “Do not touch my dancers. They’re only for paying customers, and you cannot afford them.”

Joel only nods, letting Edward know he understands. With that, Edward turns and heads for the main doors, greeting more men as they pack in like sardines. Joel sighs and heads for the maintenance closest, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that shoots through his gut at the backhanded warning Edward gave.

Don’t touch the dancers…you cannot afford them.

Even if Joel could afford it, he would never do what these men are doing. The soft, beautiful women of this place deserve to be treasured, not pawed at and used. He wasn’t a rabid dog. He could control himself unlike all the other men that crowded the Moulin Rouge.

He grabs up a metal wrench and shoves some nuts and bolts deep into his pocket. When he makes his way back to the table he starts to assess the damage. This would be much easier to fix in his well lit workshop, but there’s no carrying this table away from the stage and through the crowd of hungry men.

Now that he’s thrust in the middle of the wooden dance floor, he can see the burlesque dancers seeking out the richest looking men, sitting on their laps and letting them put their dirty paws all over their bodies. The men laugh, carrying on conversations as they fondle their breasts, leaning down to trail kisses up their necks. Some get up and lead the women down the long, dark corridor. Back to the pleasure room. Back to their impending doom.

The three men at the table next to him have one girl propped up in front of them, all of their hands grabbing different areas of her body, asking her if she wants all three of them; the men are easily twenty years older than the petite and innocent looking blonde in front of them. Joel feels for the dancers, but there isn’t anything he can do. It’s business. It’s all about the fucking money and pleasure. Pleasure sells, and this is what most men desire. Sex.

The room grows louder as men cheer from the crowded tables. Some swarming the end of the lit up stage to get a peek at the next performer. Some start chanting, yelling in demand for the next poor soul to dance across that stage, right into the pit of vipers that are ready to spit venom at whatever girl walks out next.

The cigar smoke lingers in the air as crystal glasses clink in cheers, alcohol spilling over on the tabletops. Joel knows that’ll leave a huge mess for him and the other staff to clean up after closing. He tightens the bolts under the table, winding the wrench as he tries to turn his focus away from the lust filled crowd. They’re just a bunch of sick fucks who get off on ripping away the innocence and dignity of women. Nothing more than their play things. Theirs to possess and own for a few hours. It’s cruel and vile, disgusting in itself.

Joel was never the type of guy to use a woman. He’d never dream of hurting anyone. He was thoughtful and charming, a man who minds his manners and works hard for everything he has.

He digs harder into the leg of the table, trying to mute the hooting and hollering that is getting louder by the second. The sounds of the men start to overlap until it’s muffled and pressing on his eardrums, running along the nerves that wire his brain. He concentrates on the task at hand, shutting out the noise as he tries to fix the table.

“The Sparkling Diamond!”

“She’s coming on stage now!”

“Look, look!”

The men nearest him yell to each other, babbling about the Sparkling Diamond as the lights turn crimson and dark around the room, crystal chandeliers send glistening reflections across the expensive tailored suits that fill the crowded room.

“Here she comes, boys!”

Just then, the lights go out completely and a spotlight shines on the wide stage. Crimson curtains splay over the sides, exposing the long walkway where dancers show off for the men. The crowd goes quiet, a few whistles shrouding the silence as a slow, sensual song covers the room. The men pound on the stage, yelling for the Sparkling Diamond to come out. Joel thinks she must be something special if she has the entire room practically panting with anticipation. The wild men crawl towards the stage, pushing each other to get to the front so they can get the best view. Joel doesn’t know anything about a Sparkling Diamond, but he’s intrigued. Just what were they getting all worked up about?

Before he can comprehend what's happening, he hears the click of heels travel across the stage. He rises slowly, seeing the pretty figure that dances under the bright spotlight, the men now screaming and throwing their hands out, begging to get a touch of the enchantress that graces their presence. When she’s fully in view he freezes, dropping the wrench to the floor as it crashes with a loud thud against the spotless wood. It suddenly feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Joel braces himself against the table, the sight before him nearly knocking him back down to his knees.

It’s you.

The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. Long, soft curls cascade past your shoulders and bounce around with every move you make on the lit up stage. Your short pink dress barely grazes the curve of your thighs as your arms raise overhead and you spin slowly. As you bring your arms back down, your red painted fingernails caress your curls, then tease the jawline of your flawless face. Your cheeks flush from the attention before you gently bite the tip of your finger, red lipstick sitting matted to your delicate lips.

Joel thinks they look soft to the touch, delicate even. Your lips call to him, almost scream his name. Joel, Joel, Joel. And he wants to answer it. God, does he want to answer that call.

He watches the way you twirl, fluttering your eyelashes as you look down at the men, seducing them effortlessly. Performing is what you were meant to do. When you finally look at Joel he falls completely apart, all his threads coming untied in a heap, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

He stands there frozen, sinking his nails into the hardwood table as he sucks in a shaky breath, almost unable to fully take in the vision that stands mere inches before him. He can’t hear the carnal men anymore, can’t smell the cigar smoke that encases the air, can’t focus on anything that even remotely takes his attention from the beauty that lights up the room. He can only focus on you. He feels a pull from his chest, like an invisible string, forcing him to look at nothing else but you. The Sparkling Diamond that draws men to the Moulin Rouge, and the one thing he knows will get him fired.

Your eyes sparkle and shine like a rare gemstone, pulling Joel in like a siren’s forbidden song, a lull that drags him under the dark depths of the sea. The smile you wear doesn’t quite reach your eyes, a sadness there that he can’t quite place. The men claw and reach for you like starving pigs, acting like you’re just a piece of meat to pass around to all the others to get a quick taste of.

It makes him sick the way they objectify your body, only caring about what’s underneath the short shimmery dress you wear. Joel doesn’t stare at your curves, doesn’t get sucked into whatever fantasy the rest of the men are in. He just stares at your eyes. Beautiful, sparkling. He’d cross oceans just to have a chance to memorize each fleck and color that maps out those starry eyes. Like roadmaps to his soul, leading him home to the deep depths of those glistening irises. And that’s when something snaps, he can’t - no, he won’t let any of these men put one grimy finger on you. Whatever it takes he’ll do it. He makes a silent vow to keep you safe, protect you at all cost.

There’s only one condition, don’t touch the dancers.

Edward’s voice plays through Joel’s mind on repeat, warning him to not tempt fate. But fate had already been tempted when he saw you up on that stage. He’d quit, starve, be homeless on the street if it meant he could have a chance to be with you. He’d give it all just to be able to touch you, to know you, to have you. He’d leave it all for you. His sweet, Sparkling Diamond.

You spin and turn, kicking your feet up to show off your smooth, long legs that all the men drool over. You turn to the right, drifting your eyes in the direction of a man you’ve never seen before. You almost freeze as he stares right back at you, big beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours as he gawks at you reverently. But his eyes don’t travel down your body like the other men’s do. His eyes stay fixed on your face alone, staring up into the pits of your soul as you suck in a breath and try to focus on the beat of the song.

His long tousled curls drape over his forehead, almost falling into his brown doe eyes that seem to suck you in. He’s tall, broad shouldered with thick biceps that cling to his rolled up button-up flannel. Spidery veins cascade down his arms and end in massive hands that stay clenched by his sides. His tanned skin seems to glow as he stares at you with brown eyes that melt into your own like a candle stick, wax flowing down slowly, sticky and new. It’s captivating. He is captivating.

It's like you’re stuck in a haze, thick clouds that cover you and wrap their fog around so you can’t see, can’t hear anything anymore. You try to focus on the men that praise your body, try to avert your eyes from the handsome stranger, but that organ in your chest you force yourself to ignore is almost screaming at you to run to him. Two souls colliding into each other that were destined to meet. Just like twin flames.

Soulmates.

You blink once, twice, peeling your gaze away from him, turning the other direction, forcing yourself to stay bright eyed, hoping your smile doesn’t lower. You come face to face with a gentleman with a large top hat that screams your name and reaches his arms out, desperate to get just a single touch from you that he hopes will become more.

You turn back around and find that heated gaze again with the dark brown eyes, your own eyes going wide as they draw you to him. He looks a lot like your saving grace. Someone that wants to come in and sweep you off your feet.

Again, he just watches you silently, eyes searching yours as he seems to clock into your mind, reading your thoughts like a book from front to back. He won’t find anything there except a longing for something more. An escape. Happiness. And maybe he could be that for you. Maybe, just maybe he was destined to find you. You can feel it in your chest, that ache and pull that draws you to him.

Your uncle won’t like this. Not one bit…

Joel watches your entire routine, never once letting his eyes drop from you. He watches as you disappear into the crowd of men, narrowing his eyes when he sees the way they grab at you and beg to have a dance with the Sparkling Diamond. It makes him want to strangle every single one of them slowly.

Please, just one dance?

Sparkling Diamond! Care to have a drink with me?

How about a little fun in the red room?

You politely decline each offer and just smile as you pass the men by, trying your best to not meet the stranger with the pretty brown eyes’ gaze. He’s so handsome, so very easy on the eyes. You try your best to look at the men with money, knowing this is what you’re here for, to give them a show so they’ll pay to come back. Try as you might, that thin string snapped the second you saw his brown flecked honey eyes. You don’t want to do this anymore.

You turn where you stand and look back towards the stage. You search as men cram around you and over the top of an older man’s shoulder you can see him, clear as day, still staring at you with a trance-like expression on his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, curling your lips into a shy smile and you swear you see his pretty caramel eyes light up like fireflies in the night.

Just when you’re about to walk over to him, you feel your uncle pull you away in the opposite direction. “Come on, little petal, got some nice men that’d like to meet you.”

You follow him helplessly past some drawn crimson curtains, already over the drunk men that will press their chapped lips to your face and place their grimy hands all over you. You’re finished though, over all the fake smiles and laughter you are forced to sell these men night after night. When you look back over your shoulder you can’t see him anymore. No more pretty brown eyes that make you feel somehow safe. You don’t know him, his backstory, his name, or even his age, but you’ll find out. You have to, you just have to.

After finishing fixing the two broken tables and putting them back into order, Joel gets another visit from Edward as he saunters over with a big smile and a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Everything going alright?” Edward asks as he pulls on his black tie and straightens out his long tailed coat.

“Yes, sir. Finished fixin’ those tables for you. They should be good to go now,” Joel answers as he stands up straight with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Excellent!” Edward goes over to the wooden tables and knocks on the top, inspecting Joel’s work as he looks them over carefully. Once he’s satisfied he gives Joel a strong pat on the back and nods. “Did good work, boy. Think we’ll keep you around.”

Joel smiles at the compliment, thanking him for the opportunity. “Oh, there’s actually something else that needs to be done. You remember that room we passed on the second floor? The very back room by the balcony? The one that says Sparkling Diamond?”

Joel’s eyes go wide as he recalls passing a big red door with the letters spelled out in fake diamonds. That has to be your room. He should’ve noticed it sooner, maybe asked about it. But he didn’t know that room would belong to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He didn’t know it until now.

“Uh-yeah. What about it?” he asks cautiously, eyebrow slightly raised in anticipation of what Edward would say next.

“The sink in her kitchen is dripping and some of the lightbulbs are burnt out. There should be some in the supply closet. Think you can handle taking care of that now?”

He doesn’t hesitate a second. “Absolutely. I’ll get right on it,” Joel says urgently.

As he turns to leave, Edward calls his name. “Oh, Joel. Before you leave tonight, go ahead and have a beer. It’s on me.”

Joel doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been offered a free one before, always had to pay money that he didn’t have to get one. “Oh, thank you. I… I appreciate it.”

“You earned it, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Edward asks with his eyebrows knitted together and gaze heavy on Joel.

“I’ll be here,” he promises.

“Alright, take care now. I’ve got some business to attend to so see you tomorrow.” Edward turns and walks back into a sea of rich men.

Joel pushes his way past men in black suits and black ties, cigars hanging from their open mouths and drinks spilling over their glass cups as they talk about money, sex, stocks, and women. He tunes them out and keeps walking, ignoring the nasty stares he gets from not being in a suit himself.

As soon as he grabs the bag of lightbulbs and a few plumbing tools, he heads up the grand staircase with red carpet sprawled across each step. He makes his way up the stairs, down the narrow dark hallway and stops before he turns the corner. He stands just a few feet from the pleasure room. The red room as they call it here.

He can hear the moans and cries coming from the room, can smell the stench of sex that whisks through the air. He wonders if you go into that room night after night, letting the men with dirty claws sink their nails into you, feasting on you like blood sucking vampires.

His jaw clenches up as his nails sink into the meat of his palm, his face becoming hot with heat as he imagines you splayed out on an open bed while the men take and take from you until you have nothing left to give. Until you’re just a used up rag doll for them to toy with. He snarls and turns the corner sharply, putting those dark thoughts out of his mind. If he had his way he’d make damn sure you’d never set foot in that room again. He’d slaughter a whole fucking mass of men if he had to. No one should lay their filthy hands on you as far as he’s concerned.

He walks through the long corridor, passing door after door until he finally gets to yours. He takes a deep breath and turns the golden doorknob slowly entering the dimly lit room with pale pink wallpaper. He gently shuts the door and when he turns around he stops in his tracks, hand sliding off the doorknob as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. Naked.

Your skin is soft, probably as soft as the back of a rose petal. Your legs are long, smooth, and enticing. He wonders what it’d feel like to run his long fingers over your creamy thighs. You’re bent over, ass in the air, as you unbuckle the straps of the high heels you wore on stage. Your hips are curvy, shaping your round ass into mere perfection. Your full breasts peek out from the corner as your long waves spill over your shoulders. You’re absolutely perfect, stunning, a work of pure art.

Joel knows he’s fucked now. He knows. After seeing how beautiful you are, he can’t turn away. He shouldn’t be standing here gawking at you while you change, but he can’t move. He’s stuck like glue, an immovable object that can’t be pushed. He’s in trouble, so much trouble.

He loses his balance when you bend over again, exposing a different view of you that nearly takes him to his knees. The bag of bulbs falls to the ground with a large crash, and you turn with a quaint gasp as you take in the man that stands before you. It’s him, the man with the dark eyes.

Your eyes go wide, quickly reaching for a thin, sheer robe as you wrap it around you and cover the parts of you that are completely exposed. You breathe hard, your breath coming out rushed and fast. He does the same as he just stands there staring, no air left in his lungs as he stands in front of the beauty that takes his breath away. And then it’s silence, only rushed breaths and pining eyes.

The longer he stares into your captivating eyes, the more he knows he’s fucked. There was no way he was getting out of this now, no way to back down. He was going to make you his one way or another. You would be his. Period.

111 notes · View notes

lowkeyremi · 1 year

Text

𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧'𝙨 𝘼𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙩 -> Aizawa Shota x afab!reader

➼ Sum: In short, you're fired from your main job. The worry and stress hits you while you're ugly crying outside of the building of your old workplace. You happen to meet a man who can give you a job. The question is... should you take it?

➼ Chapters: Prologue, 1

➼ Content Warning: Implied fem reader, reader has fem parts, eventual sexual content, suggestive language, all characters are aged up, eventual relationships, strippers, reader is struggling. (I'll add more as time goes on)

Prologue - I'm Fucking Losing It.

banner by: cafekitsune

"Please... I promise it won't happen again." You're on your knees in one of the halls, pleading- no begging to keep your job. It couldn't be helped though, why should you let people get handsy with you when it makes you uncomfortable?

"I'm sorry but that was your last chance. You've beaten up too many customers.. publicly at that and it's scaring away customers." Your manager says, he seems to feel for you but that frown may just be as fake as your life right now.

"But I'm your top money maker!" This is your last resort. You cannot lose this job because you don't make much at your coffee shop part-time.

"Technically, that's no longer true. Your performance has been sloppy lately, so Ami has risen and taken your spot." His words shatter what's left of your hope. Your makeup runs as you cry ugly tears. A man walks past the two of you, most likely toward the restroom. Any other time you'd be embarrassed, but right at this moment all you can feel is emptiness.

"So I'm being fired for defending myself?" You ask between sobs and sniffles.

"No, you know we wouldn't let anything happen to you. It's policy after all. You also know better than anyone that people at clubs are drunk and high even, so, of course, they're going to touch you. It's what you signed up for." He says to keep it professional.

Anger starts to seep into you. "Fuck, if that's how it's gonna be then I'll leave!" They don't deserve your service anyway.

"Ms. L/n...?" Your boss asks and you look up at him. He sees you struggling to stand because of your sore feet, these heels do you no justice. A hand is held out and you take it, trembling as you get up.

"I could recommend you to another club-" You cut him off.

"I'm good, thank you for everything you've done for me." It breaks your heart that you're leaving this place. As weird as it sounds this club was the closest thing to a home for you.

You start your walk to the backroom to get your things. Emptying your locker was the hardest. The tears start flowing again when you see the old Polaroid pictures you took with some of your coworkers who you considered to be some of your best friends.

Once changed out of your lingerie and you've packed everything you turn in everything the club let you use.

There was no way you'd say farewell to this life, it'd only make leaving it behind all the more hard. You walk outside and slump against the club's wall. You allow yourself to cry it all out.

You call your mother not sure what to do.

She picks up on the second ring, "Hello?"

"Hey.." you mumble. Your voice is hoarse due to crying.

Your mother instantly sighs, "Did you get yourself into some bullshit again?"

"Um.. yeah. Can I stay with you until I-" You're cut off by your mother's stern voice.

"Y/n, I cannot keep covering for your ass. You are twenty-six years old and every time you get into some shit you come crying to me or your father to fix it. I raised you better than that." And so the lecture begins.

"Mom please, just for a week or two.." You plead, usually she'd give in but she seems to be set on teaching you a lesson.

"No. You can call me if you need anything, but you need to get your life together. Life is not all cupcakes and rainbows. You need to learn how to deal with it. I love you but I have to go." Your mother, the one who's supposed to have your back through thick and thin is in your opinion giving up on you.

Your crying continues. What the hell are you supposed to do? Bills are due a little while from now and you work a small paying part-time.

"Shit I need to look for a job." You say sniffling.

"I could be of some assistance." A deep voice rings in your ears. You assume whoever it is is making a phone call and is not talking to you.

"You are in need of a job, correct? I could help you get into an honest line of work." The voice tries again. This time you look up to see a man with long raven hair casting down his shoulders, he has stubble covering his face alongside a few scars, and an eye patch that hides his right eye.

"Me?" You ask stoked about his appearance.

"I don't see anyone else out here crying their eyes out." He says with a hint of smugness. Wait.. how does he know you need a job?

"How did you-"

"Those walls aren't that thick." He replies somehow already knowing what you were bound to say.

"I need an assistant, I teach in a high school." The scoff that leaves your lips is inevitable.

"Teachers don't make shit, how am I supposed to pay my bills with a job like that?" Sarcasm is laced in your tone, you search his eye for any sign that he'll leave you alone but he seems determined.

"It's not just any high school. I'm a first-year teacher at UA high school, you'll be making around $20 an hour as my assistant. Also room and board is provided." Your eyes widen, now the offer is more tempting.

Looking down you get a glimpse of his prosthetic leg. "You need help because of your leg?"

"No, I could just use an extra set of hands, it seems every year the hero students get a little bit more naive." His sigh does not go unnoticed by you.

"Don't you need like a degree or something? Why are you asking an ex-stripper?" It's not even out of spite just pure curiosity.

"Usually you would, but I can get you the job. I'm asking because you seem to be struggling and if I can do something about it then I'll try to the best of my ability to make it happen."

Oh. So he's one of those people. The kind to pity anybody, you assume.

"I'm not struggling, I'm fucking losing it." The tears threaten to come back.

"What would I do?" You ask.

"Bring stuff from the printer, monitor the class, answer questions on current subjects, get coffee, other simple things like that." The calmness in his voice is a little unnerving.

"And I'd get paid $20 an hour for that?" The shock in your voice causes the man to chuckle a little bit.

"Correct. Any other questions?" His voice is smooth.

"How can you trust me? I just got fired for beating people up." You fear losing the potential job but you just had to ask.

"As you said, you were defending yourself. Your job should have considered that, even if the people are drunk that is no excuse for them to touch you when you have asked them to stop." He explains simply.

"Okay, I'll take the job.. when can I start?" This is what is crucial to you, those bills need to be paid, and getting behind would only cause you more trouble. But then again room and board is provided... would you even need to live in your crappy apartment anymore?

"Next week or the week after, I need to speak with the principal. Once everything is set straight I'll contact you about moving in." He rubs his face, and when looking into his eyes there was no way to tell what he was thinking. He looks so good though, you couldn't deny that.

"Eraserhead, a pleasure to meet you." That must be his hero name.

"Do I need some kind of code name? I'm not a hero. My stripper name was Golden Tiger." Your face flushes a little bit.

"Should've been Golden Kitten, you clearly haven't reached tiger status yet. Just give me your last name." It was clear he was teasing, his voice gave it away.

"Okay, just call me L/n then." He chuckles at your little huff of annoyance.

"Alright L/n, you think I could get your number to contact you?" That easygoing tone not leaving his voice.

You hand him your phone and you watch with interest as he types in his number. You hear a little hum escape his lips signaling he was done.

"Text me," he commands handing you back your phone. Something about the way he said that gave you goosebumps.

'Golden Tiger here.' you text biting your bottom lip. All you receive is Eraserhead shaking his head at you with a smug smirk.

"You need a ride home, Golden Kitten?" You can't even be upset when that smirk looks so good on him.

"Oh fuck off. My car's over there." You point to your ugly beige 2006 Honda Accord. (let's just pretend those still exist even tho the mha timeline is in the future)

"Is that any way to talk to someone who just got you a job?" His voice dropped an octave and you weren't sure if it was on purpose or if he was doing it unconsciously.

He looks like a tired man anyone wouldn't consider being attracted to but something about this man is drawing you in.

Instead of responding to his question, you ignore it, "I'm leaving."

You push yourself off the wall that hasn't been cleaned since who knows when. You'd forgotten that your feet were sore because of Eraserhead's presence but they reminded you of the pain.

Eraserhead mumbled something that sounded like 'be careful' but it wasn't certain, you already started limping to your car in pain.

Once situated you shut your eyes and let out a sigh.

"As cliché as this is, I'm glad my life is starting to work out a little bit." Your statement was heard by no one but yourself. When pulling out of the parking lot you play some music to prevent yourself from being left alone with your thoughts.

➼ AN: And that's a wrap for the prologue. I hope it's okay, this story came out of no where tbh. I'm not sure on how long I want it to be yet. I'm working on being more detailed in my writings. Also this is NOT beta read yet, bc I need to find someone to be my beta reader. Feel free to like, reblog, and comment! <3

#bnha #mha #aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa shōta #shota aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #bnha aizawa #eraserhead #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota #shota aizawa x reader #multi chap #multi chap fic #multi fic #post bnha wars #aizawa x y/n

210 notes · View notes

jungle-angel · 7 months

Text

Two Boys and a History Class (Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: Normally you and Bob would leave Auggie with your in-laws, but since his mother is having surgery, you officially welcome him into the classroom family

Tagging: @bobfloydsbabe Helena I couldn't help myself with this one because the thought of Bob with a baby does things to me that I just can't explain (lol). I hope you're ok with me including Auggie in some of these and I apologize in advance, the baby fever is out of control at my end (lol).

Warnings: Mentions of a breeding kink, Bob popping off on a visiting teacher who's clearly beneath him etc.

"Alright, so does anybody have any clue as to what the most important part of Erik the Red's reign was?" Bob enquired.

"Not only was he an explorer but didn't he found the first settlement in Greenland?" Deshawn asked.

"You would be right my friend!" Bob declared proudly. "Erik the Red was indeed an explorer and did also found one of the first Viking colonies in Greenland...."

He was suddenly interrupted by the click of the door handle and the creaking of the classroom door before Mrs. Hess, the painting teacher, stuck her head in the door.

"Mr. Floyd might I borrow you for a minute?"

Bob signaled for the class to wait a minute before he followed Mrs. Hess out into the hallway. "I'm so sorry to bother you Bob," she apologized. "But your father came by with the baby."

"Is everything ok?"

"Oh yes," Mrs. Hess assured him. "Auggie's fine but he said that your mother's surgery was moved to later this afternoon and they won't allow him to take him."

"Shit," Bob hissed.

"My thoughts exactly," Mrs. Hess said. "Your wife said she's going to get him but I think she also asked about combining classes."

"Perfect timing," Bob said. "We do that every Friday afternoon."

"Wonderful!" Mrs. Hess said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I'll tell you right now too, if that detestable visiting teacher says anything to you or to (y/n) I'll have him shipped to my neck of the woods and see how he deals with the folks in Chatham County, Georgia."

Bob had to laugh. Just like Mrs. Reyes, no one dared to mess with Mrs. Hess. She was a Southern lady through and through and always had a good quip for anyone who got on her bad side. The high schoolers even had their own slogan for kids coming fresh out of the lower school......"don't mess with the Hess."

Bob waited patiently for you to come down the hall with baby Auggie. "Alright guys, it's looking like it's that hour!" Bob announced once he was back in the room. "And this time Mrs. Floyd brought a little guest this afternoon."

All of the students collectively gasped when they saw you walk in with the baby. Any time you brought Auggie in, the grew excited beyond words. Nobody in the entire school could resist his cuteness, let alone the fact that he looked so much like Bob.

"Everybody put the desks together," you announced, carefully picking Auggie up out of his carseat.

"You want me to take him sweetheart?" Bob asked you.

"Do you mind?" you asked Bob.

"It's not a problem at all," he told you. "We made him together and it means I help you shoulder the duty together."

"You're right," you told him. "But lest you forget mister, that part of the reason we made him was due to that fiery breeding kink you keep buried until we're home alone."

Bob chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Don't even start," you laughed, warning him. "Let's get back to business."

You and Bob wrangled together your students to continue the lesson while Bob kept Auggie safe and secure in the curve of his arm.

"Now in Mrs. Floyd's literature block," Bob continued, touching up his notes on the chalkboard. "We're at a point where the Fellowship has reached the woods of Lothlorien and left behind the mines of Moria. What sticks out to you guys most in this part? Any major themes? Elements? Justin."

"Um, I'd say the biggest one is kinda that darkness turning to light," Justin Daly answered. "I remember picturing the scene in the films where the mines were like really deep darkness and then you get to the woods where at night it's all brightly lit."

"That is an excellent point," Bob told him, adjusting Auggie so that the baby rested against his chest. "We come across alot of that throughout the books, but also vice versa, right?"

"Right!" the students responded.

A knock at the door suddenly had Bob rolling his eyes. "We're not to be disturbed!!" Bob announced loudly.

"Mr. Floyd, it's Mr. D'Nadi," answered the male voice on the other side of the door.

Bob groaned and rolled his eyes. All of the students fell quiet as Bob opened the door to find the pretentious visiting teacher from another school standing before him.

"You're not wearing dress slacks but jeans?" Mr. D'Nadi asked.

"In some cultures I'd be considered overdressed," Bob informed him.

"Yes well, I um.....I came to enquire about that proposal you're working on for the school?"

"Yes," Bob said flatly.

"I cannot stress enough that the proposal is what's able to allow your students to go on these field trips that you plan every year," D'Nadi explained rather sharply. "If you plan on taking these kids to Norway....."

"Already done," Bob told him.

"Mr. Floyd....."

"Listen dipshit," Bob interrupted. "We all know that you're only here as a visiting teacher......keyword there....visiting. You are merely here to observe and then go home. Under no circumstances were you to tell anybody in this school what to do or how to implement their lessons."

"Listen I know it's more responsibility but...."

"Do not lecture me on responsibility," Bob told him sharply. "As you can see, Mrs. Floyd and I take care of our students who are like our own family and if your observation skills were up to par, you'd see that we've got a baby to take care of as well. Now if you'll please remove yourself and your foot from the door, that'd be great."

"You do know that protocol doesn't allow you to bring your own children to work?" D'Nadi tried to tell him.

"Fire me," Bob told him before shutting the door right in D'Nadi's face before he could say anything else.

Bob pressed a soft little kiss to Auggie's cheek before turning back to the students who were trying not to giggle.

"Shall we keep going guys?" he asked them.

Both you and the students cheered and applauded Bob, without a doubt proving that he was the best history teacher in the entire school.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #teacher!bob #teacher!bob x teacher!reader #teacher!bob floyd

86 notes · View notes

floredaqueen · 6 months

Text

💋Besos Castos💋

Part 2 to Curiosity at First Sight!

Billy Hargrove X Isabela Wheeler (OC)

Strangers - Friends - Lovers

♡

⚠️WARNING(S)⚠️: Suggestive Writing, Cursing, Bad/Graphic Writing, Billy Hargrove being Billy Hargrove, 18+ MINORS DNI, Mentions of Sexual Activities, Sexual Inuendos, I'm not good at writing :>

♡

...

It was a normal rest of the week... that is if Isabela could count the unsettling feeling of a specific pair of ocean blue eyes boring into her soul every time she sat in Algebra class normal. Those gorgeous blue hues belonged to the new guy, Billy Hargrove. So far, he was already stealing Steve Harrington's spot as the King... whatever that was supposed to mean. Guys wanted to be him. He was inching closer and closer to the team captain spot on the basketball team. Girls wanted to be with him, and Isa could see why.. she kind of did, too. The way Hargrove would smile mischievously at the other girls against their lockers, hover over them while speaking a soft whisper of all the things he could do to them. Not only that, but he was already making out with a few in the halls.

Isabela would catch herself gazing sometimes, watching the pretty boy's cheeky smile persist as he talked up the girls who fancied him. Her doe brown eyes would also glance at the hungry kisses he'd give them, forcing herself to put the thought of it being her his hands gripped around while their lips locked in the far back of her mind. Although, she couldn't stop picturing the images of him taking their breath away, shoving his tongue in their mouth, and even his lips sloppily trailing to their jaw and neck. It was a sight to see.. like two wild animals in their natural habitat. Still, Isa kept herself focused and mostly unbothered. The more she did that, the easier it was to avoid him.. until Calculus. They had two classes with one another, but she would always hide behind the bleachers. The guys were out and playing basketball. Other than that, math was the only time she was caught out like a deer in the headlights.

As the week passed, the Guatemalan girl found a rhythm, coming to school, finding time for her friends and academics while also completely avoiding any eye contact with the dirty blonde whore she sat next to 2 times a day. In those 45 to 50 minutes, Hargrove takes his sweet time trying to get her to notice him. The first time, he just tapped on her shoulder. Isa would look over to the side, her eyes finding his blinding smile and wandering eyes. Although, when he tried to introduce himself, she had already turned back around, flipping her hair right behind her before tuning in to the daily math lesson. This would persist for the rest of the week. He'd keep tapping her shoulder, pull her chair back against his own desk, and his tight grip would even find its way to her dark brown locks only to pull at them, not a second later. And every time, she'd look back at him with a look. Irritated, annoyed, and/or pissed. It was one of those, but Billy couldn't tell which one.. he didn't care either. To him, any attention was good attention from her, just to see her pretty face turn to him, to see her nose scrunch up when she got upset, or even see her flip the bird to him. She was feisty as hell, and that made him want to keep chasing...

Then she'd flee. She felt stupid for her behavior sometimes, wanting to give him a chance. At the same time, something could go wrong. She'd overhear talk about the relationships her friends would have and how if the guy was too pretty, he'd be unattainable, especially in high school. The guy would hop from girl to girl. While she was tempted to be one of those girls, the timid girl was looking for something a lot more long-lasting. So every time, the adopted Wheeler would turn away or pretend like she didn't hear him whenever Billy tried to make any advances.

Today, though, was different.

Isa was jotting down notes on the board, putting them in a particular neat way before she felt a tap on her shoulder. I'm routine, the Latina looked to the side she was tapped on, annoyed, meeting eyes with the new infamous pretty boy. As her doe eyes did their best to keep steady one his, Billy's oscar winning smile appeared while taking in her features thoughtfully. God, was she cute. With the way she presented herself, she must know it. It was a few seconds before he began.

"Hey, do you understand this question?" He asked, leaning over to her to point to the 5th question on their worksheet. When he did, she got a whiff of his cologne, her cheeks tiniting a soft pink because he smelled of a fresh ocean breeze.. and a new car? It was soothing apart from the hint of a cigarette smell around. She examined the specific equation, scooting closer to him in habit when helping others. In turn, his eyes focused on her concentration. Considering she had already finished her own assignment, Billy had an inkling that Isabela was good at this type of work. Her eyes glanced up to meet his again, only for her to blink away as she spoke.

"You have to use the unit circle method before using the other formula to find the final equation," the studious girl explained, tapping her pencil nervously to the glossy wooden finish of her desk.

"Okay.. how do I do the unit thing again?" Billy's question had Isa's right eye twitching. He really wasn't listening in class, which was super annoying, considering it was only causing confusion. Shaking her head, Isa pulled out a fresh piece of notebook paper. Billy watched slightly disoriended as the quiet girl began doodling a quick "how to" on the notebook paper and handing it to him. For once, he understood what he was doing in this shitty class. Isa cut it down into pieces for him on this piece of paper, and so he continued to use her formula before handing his own worksheet to her. She checked it, nodded to him and handed it back.

It was a simple interaction. Something she was personally proud she got through without anything going south. Soon enough, the bell rang throughout the school, the young woman grabbing her bag and confidently leaving the classroom as quick as she usually did. He was contemplating running after her, but instead walked up to the group of guys that seemed to follow him into almost every party he's crashedso far. He listened for a bit, leaning up against the lockers before his eyes settled on a certain girl with long chestnut hair. Soon the conversation he was listening to was muffled as he not-so-secretly peered at Isa while she gathered her things for her next class.

"What do you guys know about, that girl over there?" Billy pointed to her, Tommy looking over at Isa before a smirk came to his face.

"Oh, Isa? I think she's like Mexican or something like that- She's super hot, but she's a nerd.She doesn't even talk much, at least not to guys. Nancy, Nova, Chrissy, Chelsea, and Rex are the only people she talks to in and outside of school." Tommy explains, Hargrove listening while his vision was glued to the girl they were speaking about. He had half the mind to ask him why the hell he knew so much about her, but he didn't. Soon, Nancy and Nova walked up to the hispanic scholar, watching her lips move while trying to make out why they were saying. Soon enough, his focus is on Nancy and her when he turned back to Hagan.

"Isn't she a Wheeler?" Billy asks, crossing his arms as he gets more comfortable against the metal doors behind him.

"She's adopted. A total charity case.. 'though it definitely wasn't a bad idea," Tommy's eyes followed Isa's polyester clad ass as she shut the door and walked off. She could feel the eyes, the heat of embarrassment rushing to her face and causing her to walk faster. Billy found himself mindlessly watching her hips sway back and forth, her foreign curves excentuated in her form-fitting pink tee and colorful maxi skirt. He wasn't even a foot guy, but he couldn't help by appreciate the way her sandals made them look even more dainty and smooth. There was a word for someone like her that the new king couldn't quite figure out yet.

♡

The next day after Calculus, Isa was once again at her locker, it being a routine at this point. Her right hand reached into the small metal compartment to reach one of her notebooks. As Isabela turned to peak into her bag, she was startled, Billy Hargrove standing in the only space she had. She jumped and groaned in annoyance at his quiet stature. He was hovering, Isabela eyes struggling to stay steady on his.

"What do you want, Billy?!" The timid girl pressed herself against the lockers away from him. She assumed he came over here to ask her something. Whatever it was, she was intent on saying n-

"Can you tutor me in Calculus?" He asked, his confident demeanor at a low simmer as he asked. She hesitated, curling inside herself more but standing her ground.

"Why should I..?" Isa's left eyebrow raised, and the nervous girl blinked a few times so her face wouldn't heat up.

"C'mon, it'll only be a couple of times," He continued, watching as the shy girl barely kept her cool. He could tell he was getting under her skin. His hands subconsciously hovered over those voluptuous hips of hers but settled on his own instead. One of his hands rested itself on the metal beside her head, completely trapping her.

"Hell, you know I need the extra help,"Once she shook her head, he rolled his eyes, and a groan escaped him that Isa's spine shiver. Her head turned away, a soft pout coming to her cute face.. then his face got really close, feeling the slight heat of his breath against her ear. That seemed to have no problem heating her up, the Guatemalan going as far back in her shell as she could, but it wasn't working. Hargrove already got Isa where he wanted her.

"Pleeease~?" He pleaded hotly, his voice entering a lower register as that stupid smirk of his curling on his lips as his blue hues longed on her ever blushing cheeks. If she had the right mind to push him away and flee, she would, but at the moment, she was considering it. She didn't mind helping him with his education.. and God was he handsome. Handsome enough to have you mentally laying out the pros and cons of the situation. Pro: You had the upper hand on where to hold the study session. Con: It had to be public, or he'd most likely start aggressively flirting. Pro: She'd tell him her rules of tutoring, hoping he would abide by them. Con: He wouldn't do that at all.

"...I'll think about it," Isa muttered in that voice she'd use sometimes when she wasn't sure about something. The Latina girl would turn back to her locker, only to shut it quickly before booking it to her next class. It was English, so she had finished her work fairly early, which gave her more time to think about it. Another pro: it could be fun. Another con: he might not even pay attention to her because he's just interested in getting into her pants. Another pro: she could actually help him learn something important, and maybe he'd feel more confident in his academic abilities. Another con: He'd get bored with her and leave. Another pro: Maybe they could have fun, and she'd be able to see that smile on his face again. She kept tally on a loose sheet of notebook paper, coming up with more pros than cons.. albeit as biased as they were.

♡

Later that day, Isabela made up her mind, forcefully dragging herself over to a table a group of boys sat at during lunch time. There, Billy sat, stuffing his face with fries and whatever else was on his tray. That was the first time she's ever seen him eat. It was good to know that he did. She wasn't sure, considering all she saw was him putting a cigarette to his lips.

"Hargrove!" The smart girl called out to him, his head sharply rising to see her eyes nervously meeting his. Once she was close enough, she handed him a sticky note. It had the address of the Wheeler residence on it, her eyes looking away from his when he looked back at her.

"My house at five-thirty. Don't forget!" Billy's grin appeared, his eyes half lidded as he chewed on a couple of seasoned sweet potato fries. He shrugged, then nodded. Isa nodded in return, wanting to leave as quickly as she got there.

"Bye," Isa trailed off as she turned away, almost leaving skid marks behind with how quick she was walking. It had the pretty blonde smiling hard, his boy's casually cheering and egging him on while his eyes remained on her until she was no longer in his vision. For the rest of the day, Billy's mind was clouded with thoughts of Isabela, so much so that he stopped a sloppy, hot make-out session with Tina Kingston mid way just so he wouldn't be late for their tutoring session.

Tina was one of the hottest girls in school, aside from Rebecca, Nova, and Chrissy. Most guys barely had a real chance with them, but with Tina hanging on his trail, Billy couldn't pass up a chance to taste something close to heaven.. Heaven was something Billy believed to be somewhere else, like at the Wheeler's house. It wasn't long 'til Tina was kicked out of his car, her scoffing and cursing being shadowed by the rev of his engine as he drove off. He's never been on time for something in a long time, Isa hearing his loud engine at the end of the road of the parking lot. The foster Wheeler looking at the clock on the wall. It was 4:25 p.m.

Isabela sat out the fruit bowl she made for him five minutes ago onto the dining room table. She rushed herself to the front door, although the scholar waited for him to knock on the door. When he did, she opened the door a few seconds later, greeting him with a nod before leaving the door open only for Billy to shut it once he entered.

"Just put your things on the table and we can get started," She spoke as she went upstairs to grab her own work a clean worksheet she took to work on with him before leaving class.

While she was upstairs, Billy took in the environment. It was warmly lit and smelled like fresh raspberry and sweet cinnamon. It explained why she smelled so good every time he got close to her. It was clean as well, the tiled floor shiny, and the carpet away the couches vacuumed and sprayed down. The pillows on the sofa were neat and the only thing on the round table were two bowls of cut fruit. She made that for him while she waited? Billy sat down, setting his work onto the table along with a pencil before taking a bite of a piece of green apple that was in his bowl. His ears focused on the sound of her coming back down, turning himself in the chair.

"What's up with the fruit?" He asked, just wanting to see what she'd say about it. Isa pouted at the immediate hard time she was having.

"Well, you're eating it, aren't you?" She'd rebuttal, setting her own work down on the table. Already she could tell this was going to be an interesting few hours. She could see the smug look on Billy's face at the corner of her eye.

"I'm not the type to pass up free food. Why'd you make it?"

Isa bit her lip, shrugging as she thought what to say other than 'Because I wanted to make it for you,'. Out of kindness, out of her crush for him, out of he'd notice both, which he definitely could sense. Instead though, what came out of her mouth was,

"Fruit is good brain food.. also, you had lunch at one, so I thought you'd want a snack or something," Isa confessed, sitting down only for her eyes to meet his suggestive ones. His smile was genuine, appreciative of her little gesture to him.

Soon enough, the tutoring started, Isa's were carefully curated as she broke her notes down to the infuriating charming Billy Hargrove. His eyes never looked away from her, except for when he was told to focus on the problem at hand. Her teaching was the most easy-to-understand instructions he's ever had, and she's not even a teacher. Billy had felt relieved to get the material down finally. He was ready to call it quits and fail the class, although Isabela had reminded him that he needed this credit to graduate, and so he was here, studying.. wishing he was doing something else with her that required a bit of a workout.

"How come we can't go up to your room?" He'd ask, Isa snapping towards him in aw. Did he really just ask her that? Did that just come out of his mouth? It did. He was curious about it, usually being able to finesse himself in a girl's bedroom to snoop. He was definitely the type to find himself going through a girl's diary for kicks.

"Because it's my bedroom.." She looked over at him, her statement almost posed as a question. Billy grinned playfully, watching the heat rise up in her cheeks. He scoffed, leaning in to continue his flirtatious ways.

"You afraid I'll find the love letters you made for me?" He'd tease, his irritating smirk persisting as Isa held eye contact with him. She was struggling, though, her eyes wanting to divert back to her homework, she was already done with. While she was done, she still retreated to her finished work, going over her answers while avoiding Billy's goregous, lidded hues.

In time, the sweet hispanic gal once again felt the exasperating presence of the handsome bad boy. Isa felt light traces from the eraser part of his pencil stroking itself up and down her arm. Jesus, can't this guy just concentrate?? The young woman flinched, turning to snatch the wooden graphite piece out of his hand only to huff frustratingly at him a second later.

"Do you need help, Hargrove??" She whined, Billy biting at his pretty bottom lip teasingly in return, his eyes traveling down to her blouse. He noticed something about it as he took his quick peak. She wasn't wearing a bra, her nipples gentle peering out. They weren't big, nor were they small either, but they were perky enough to have dirty blonde horndog's mind racing with thoughts it groping them while whispering sweet nothings to the latina.

"Not with my homework, no," His hand gripped around her face gently, pulling her in while scooting himself closer. Isa feels the heat rush to her cheeks, his digits ribbing into her smooth side.

"Sweetness, the only thing I need is your attention," He cooed to her, her face flaring up more and more as he seemed to get closer and closer. She'd flee again, her heart beating so fast she thought she was gonna pass out. Billy'd whine a bit, leaning over her seat as she anxiously grabbed all of her things.

"Listen.. I-I'm glad I could help you out, but-"

"Isa, wait-" but it was already too late. Isa was already hurrying herself. Once she had made up her mind, she wouldn't turn back.

"But, if you don't need anything else, please leave. Have a good night!" And she takes her stuff and quickly woddles upstairs to her room. Billy sighed, shaking his head while leaning it near the table. He ate the last of what was left in his fruit bowl before taking the hint, grabbing his own things, and heading for the door. He turned back, looking near up the stairs where the pretty girl was hiding... his pretty girl. Sooner or later, that was gonna be her title.

♡

The next day, the popular bad boy was surrounded by his usual crowd. That day, he was sporting his denim jacket with a white tee, which hugged his Adonis physique perfectly. It had girls drooling as he walked by, Tommy H. and Jason Carver on either border of him alongside a few other dudes. While the other boys talked of sex, booze, parties, and basketball, Billy's mind was on something else. His head rang the sound of Isabela's voice, the image of her soft, plump lips, long goregous hair, sweet doe eyes, warm hands, pretty tits--

Although his fantasies were interrupted shortly after he made it to his locker, Tommy asking about something. Billy snapped his view to the asshole, giving him a look of confusion.

"The hell are you on about, Hagan?" He'd question, Carver rolling his eyes.

"We just wanted to know how your 'study session' went?" Carter explained, a smug look on his pale face as he took to question his 'friend's sneaky whereabouts. Billy looked back at him, glad he was able to put his thoughts back on the pretty hispanic scholar who did her best to tutor him.

"It was fine." Billy lied, obviously hiding a whole bunch of details from last night. He decided he'd like to keep what happened to himself.. even though the truth was nothing happened. He scared her away and shoved her back into her well-kept turtle shell. Plus, he enjoyed their speculating. It was entertaining.

"Wait, you had it with Isa, right?" Tommy remembered, looking over to Carter with a little smirk. They both giggled boyishly, Tommy shoving his hands in his pockets while Carter tapped on Hargrove's denim clad shoulder.

"God, I just know she'd look so hot begging," Hagan imagined, sighing like the lover boy he wasn't. Billy was, though, now thinking of the soft peeps that would escape her as he grabbed her every way. Whatever way it was, he was certain it was going to be near her. It was nice thought. The popular boy was soon interrupted once again by his sheep's words, looking back at Carter when he spoke.

"What the hell did you say?" Billy's tone was low and fierce, but calm as if he was ready to strike under any sort of pressure. Unfortunately, Jason didn't pick up on his quick irritation.

"I said, 'How long did it take her to spread her legs?' I gotta know man-" Billy scoffed, that domineering smile coming to his face as her turned to completely face the younger basketball player. He even chuckled a bit, but his anger was boiling under the playful surface that was his own misconception.

"I don't know, Jason. How long would it take for your legs to spread when I shove a pool stick up your ass? How about we find that out, yeah?" The charming smile of Billy's remained on his face for a long moment before he eyes deadpanned and his curved lips flattened. He was dead serious. Jason knew it too as he backed up, his hands raising in a surrendering position.

"Alright, man. Jesus," He backed off real quick, Billy turning back to his locker to grav his things before slamming the metal door and heading towards Isabela's locker.

There she stood, the prideful whore finding the sweet girl at her locker. He noted the cotton thin, long sleeve, cropped pink shirt she was wearing. He also noted those nice jean shorts that looked let they were barely holding on to that ass of hers. Did she work out, or was she just naturally gifted with those curves around her torso and the perfectly quafted muscles on her thighs and lower legs? Soon enough, he was behind her, the hair standing up on the back of her neck as she turned to meet his eyes. She just winced, his face so close to hers, but his eyes diverted to her lips. His expression was eager, yet concentrated as if he was holding himself back.

"God, Billy! You scared me," Isa huffed breathlessly, him seemingly taking in her immediate flustered state as his presence. He chuckled in view of it, a soft pout coming to her pretty face.

"My bad, sweetness. 'Just wanted to know if we're still on for today?" Billy would suggest, Isa rolling her eyes almost immediately at his usual flirtation.

"Don't call me that," She spat before shutting her locker.

"Okay, Sugar–"

"Don't call me that either"

"Whatever floats your boat, Babydol–"

"¡¡Dios mío!! I have a name, y'know! A-And It would do you some good to use it.." And as she turned, he'd meet her halfway, standing in front of her whole turning uo his charm meter ten times as much. It was obvious he wasn't a very serious guy, even when he was trying to be serious.

"Isa, listen, I just need to know if you want to tutor me today..?" Isa knew he wouldn't admit it, but Billy was pleading at this point. It might be small, but he was so used to getting what he wanted. He wasn't one for desperate measures, but he liked her.. a lot. Soon enough, he got to her, Isabela sighing softly before glancing up at Billy again. Gosh, he really was persuasive.

"...Don't be late, okay?" She spoke softly, exchanging her notebooks for her previous class for others. Out the corner of her eye, Isa could see the grin on Billy's pretty face. Even if it was for just a moment, the young woman felt her face heat up a bit. She wasn't used to it, and whether she admitted it or not, Isa couldn't deny the obvious feelings she had for Billy either.

Once again, it was 4:15 I'm the afternoon, and once again, Billy found himself sucking face with some other pretty girl to take his mind off of Isabela. Although he couldn't this time, this time all he could do was picture her . Her big does eyes, her flustered expression whenever he got a rise out of her, how soft her hands were, how tight her shirts were. Even if he couldn't see much, he could see enough. He subconsciously pictured it was her lips he was planting kisses on , and it was her soaking wet core he was plunging himself into.

It took all of five minutes for him to finish, the pretty girl under him moaning with him before giggling. Billy was just panting, pulling himself out and quickly buckling his pants again. Immediately when she began to speak, the popular pretty boy kicked his distraction out, the revv of tuning out her cursing as he drove away. He took a shortcut to make sure he wasn't late, looking around his Camaro to see if he could find his spare cologne to freshen up with.

By the time he knocked on the door, Isa had brought out the strawberry cream cheese she had hid from Mike, as well as the two bagels that were left in the pantry. The timid Latina had just finished cutting one of the apples she had bought yesterday after their session when she heard the doorbell ring. She almost ran to get it, opening it quickly only to be met with the heavily smell of cologne overriding the smell of sex as Billy practically forced himself inside.

Billy himself attempted to ignore that he smelled like a good rutting, sitting himself down at the table with her only for her to get started on her work. Today was easier, Billy finding his way through a couple of mathematical obstacles and even jotting down notes. He'd continue his silent, flirting, stealing glances of the girl beside him. How thick her eye lashes were when she blinked and how defined the curls of her coffee brown locks. He admired her look of determination to understand and comprehend oamrthing she wont ever need in her life.. like ever. Billy continued to gaze at the petite young scholar while she worked and bit on the end of her pencil..

"So how was it..?" Isabela question, her eyes still glued to her paper filled with equations. Billy's expression turned puzzled, his jawline sharpening itself while he slowly raised his perfectly quafted eyebrow.

"How was what?" He slightly scrutinized, her gorgeous, siren blues zooming in on the way she but her cheek.

"The girl you were almost late for. Was she any good? You still smell like her.." Yes, it was obvious! She couldn't help but think about it, the scent of cheap lavender and the thought of him.. getting his rocks off while she was preparing a colorful snack for him. It made her head pound and her stomach turn in.. greed.

Greed for the way he looks at her when she's not looking or when she's looking directly at him. Greed for his hands hovering over her hips before desperately wanting to touch them. Greed for the raunchy flirting, the pleading, the succumbing to his effortless charm, the surrendering to her blatant kindness. Isabela thought what they had was raw and filled with potential.. and he had to throw away with a quick fuck before he even got here.

"And that's any of your business because–"

"Because it would be great if you didn't come in here smelling like a brothel," She'd say roughly, Billy paying it no mind to the Latina's snappy attitude. He only responded with a chuckle and his usual response to a girl getting pissed at his slightly reckless antics.

"It comes with the territory, sweetness." He'd coo, leaning in only for her to get another whiff of wooden apple and hot, sweaty sex. The frustration in her eyes was very telling. All of her skin flushed the more she thought about it. The more she wished she was the one who wrinkled his shirt, and the one to be kissed dumb, and the one to be manhandled with such passion.. but she never wanted it to be once...

...

...But— but she never wanted it to be just once, and she never wanted to be one of Billy's girls. Her hands sweated and her cheeks burned at the thought of being Billy's girl.. Billy's only girl. It was a stretch, a shark jump even, but she was an 18 year old girl with hopes and dreams.. and the hopes and dreams were stubborn and vivid and goddamn delectable.

"Break! We need a break.."

When Isabela had realized her face visibly red, she stood, exhaling hotly before hastily walking around back to the kitchen counter. All the while, she was silently cursing herself, trying to regain focus instead of feeling like she wasn't worthy. She wasn't the one who was supposed to be feeling like that. It was supposed to be the son of a bitch who was sitting at the dining table and gazing knowingly at her. As if Billy knew her feelings, as if he knew what she yearned for. He was just dangling the goddamn carrot in her cute, doe eyed face.. and it hurt.

What Isa didn't know was that Billy did know.. he knew deep down. He knew she wanted to, but he didn't know why he kept stopping herself. He knew she was too good for him, but that never stopped him before. That never stumped his drive to get see it to the end. It wouldn't stop him now either. He stood from his seat, pulling off his denim jack only to show off that goregous Adonis physique Isa knew he loved to show off. It was paying off.

"Need any help?" He'd suggest through that sweet, promising smile that he's shown to her once or twice. It always got her hopes up about him and his motives.. and if he actually liked her. Isabela shook her head, finishing up the slicing and dicing of a green apple in the eighths. Soon, she placed the bagel smeared with hazel nut and cocoa spread with a few apple slices on top and the side of a plastic plate. She handed the plate to him soon after before making her own plate. He stood still though, finding time to make his move while she was distracted by her own thoughts.

Suddenly, his being was behind hers, Billy slightly scoffing at the immediate tense up he could feel from Isa. His hands gently gripped at the skin of her wrists, Isa instinctively stopping her rushed plating, only to feel his smokey breath against her jawline and neck.

"Either you move aside, and let me help, or have to force you back to the table.."

...That.. she wasn't expecting that. She wasn't expecting his want to help or him even pushing himself to do so. Isabela was quick to move, Billy amused as he ogled strutting her cute butt to the other side of the island counter. Her arms crossed against her chest, her cheeks puffed out and her full bottom lip pouted as she frowned. She watched him finish up her plate, even going as far as to place some of the slices strategically on her spread.

"I don't like this" She didn't like it.. she loved it.

"Yeah, yeah.. and your scrutiny is very effective," Billy knew she liked it. He knew she liked being helped, and flirted with, and looked at like she was something.. she was something. That's what Hargrove thought.

"Hurry up. I don't like this.." She turned back to the dining table, feeling the ocean eyes behind her admiring her back side. She mean mugged him in response, getting flustered at his cheeky, and quite frankly charming, response.

. . .

After they had eaten their snack, things started to lighten up. Isabela and Billy had continued their tutor session, the Guatemalan girl giving him notes and suggestions while the pretty boy simultaneously made jokes in return. Isa of course didn't listen to most of them, but she did laugh at one.

She laughed. It was a cute laugh. Squeaky and light, and enough to make the pride in his stomach swell. He leaned in a bit close, his tongue brushing against her teeth.

"Ah, I finally got one outta ya," He'd gloat, slightly kicking himself with how easily he was fawning for that sweet smile. He's never felt like this before.. jesus, he could gawk at the curling of her plump lips anytime of the week.

"Yeah, well don't get used to it.." She huffed, shaking off her laugh and attempting to turn back to her work.

"But your laugh is cute, I should make you laugh more often." Suddenly, it was agonzing to keep eye contact with Billy. He must've known his was pouring a thousand sultry poems into her soul. Her face was burning. She was definitely giving herself away. His smile didn't help either. He got closer.

"There are a lot of things I'd like to make you do.." Her arms crossed again at his mild attempt at seduction.. it was working.

"Like what..?" She questioned, Billy's smirk persisted.

"Oh don't ask me that idea tell ya.. well," their lips are only an inch away from yours.

"How about I show you..?" She could feel the heat from her cheeks, as he moved close, his lips lingering over hers for a moment. Isa attempted to back out..

"Billy, that's not–" He didn't even fathom the thought of listening to her after that, closing the very small gap between them and melting into the whimpers and peeps Isa was giving off. He grunted against her soft lips, feeling her hands grip his thinly clothed bicep and watch ridden wrist. Billy noted that she tasted of peaches and the hazelnut chocolate spread she just had. Billy on the other hand was an "aquired taste", Isa savoring the taste of a smokey bagel and a hint of.. mint?

For a second, Isa practically dissolved, the warmth of his mouth and tongue blurring her thoughts. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered with desire as he attempted to pull her closer.. then she realized this was exactly what she was trying to avoid. The needy kiss only lasted for a second, but even then, that second, she was plotting her their house plan and a trip to California.

The next second, Isabela was realizing how hard she was falling for the guy over a kiss. And so the absurdity of the situation hit her over the head with a brick.

She pulled away, hysterically getting up and grabbing her things.

"You need to leave," Isabela breathed hastily while she was booking it towards the stairs.

"Isa, where–"

"LEAVE!" She'd yell from the top of the stairs, her eyes wide in and filled with tears. Her mixed emotions frustrating her til no idea. It was silent for a moment, his bewilderment multiplying the more he went through it in his head. He charmed her up, helped her out, made her feel special.. and yet she was special. She was different. She wanted more than the others, more than just a quickie or a flirt. He couldn't put a pin on what, but he knew it was something. Eventually he did leave, Isa hearing the front door slam shut on his way out.

Billy hadn't really grasped the idea of being in an actual relationship. He thought he wasn't good enough, thought the girls only cared for one thing.. the facade he put on. The front inflated his ego and kept him feel like more than he actually did. After he'd had his fun, he'd trail right back to what he actually felt. For a very long time, Billy had felt empty, angry, heavy-hearted.. but when he's with Isabela. Billy sped through the road as his mind raced through the suspicions.. it was like she sees potential in him, to be better.. it was like she could see right through him, past all the bullshit bluffs and party personas, and whatever else he used to build this image that kept him together for so long. Hell, it had only been a few weeks, and she probably knew so much about him.

He had to approach her another way.. and as much as he hated the idea.. he had to do it, honestly.

Billy had let few weeks pass before he even thought of asking her to tutor again. Her constant avoidance of him as if he were the plague helped his plan. When Friday came around, he hoped Isa calmed down enough to at least hear him out. Throughout the entire week, Isabela had noticed something crucial that's heightened her desires. He didn't fraternize with other girls.. at least for the last 6 days. Not that she's heard of, and she definitely would've heard of Billy's sexual escapades.

As Isabela frantically walked home, her thoughts were accumulating. She went through the effects, seeking to decipher the cause. Of course, her biases got the better of her, the heartache she was experiencing, yelling for it to be about her. . .

It was 7 p.m., Isa finishing up her studying when she heard a knock at her window. Her wide eyes wavered up to the pane, weary only for a moment considering there was a tree a bit too close to the side of her house where her bedroom was. But again, a few seconds later, after she turned her attention back to her homework, she wind of the three panged knock.

Isa slightly panicked, slowly rising from her dainty organized desk, but not before grabbing a sharp pair of scissors. Slowly, she stepped over to the pan, and her vision narrowed as she quickly put aside the curtains. When she figured out who it was, her she heaved a sigh, her hands moving to her hips.

"Billy, what the hell are you doing here? You can't be here!" She was pretentious about it, of course. Why was he here? Did he come to try again? God knows Isa definitely wasn't in the mood for more of his schemes.

"Wow, swearing does not suit you," Billy began to climb from the window and into her room. Of course, she protested the entire time, but in the same breaths, she made sure he wouldn't get hurt as well.

"Why are you here, Bil??" Isabela, her arms crossed, waiting for a response. She stood, only to watch him sit on her comforter. When her maneuvered his way through her window, she got a whiff of him, the man smelling decent enough to not stink up her whole room. Also, he was wearing that red shirt.. jesus, the way he could pull off something so simple made her want to fold right then and there.

"This is a nice mattress is real nice! Mind if I borrow it for–"

"Billy, Lo juro por Dios!!" Sensing her sincerity, Billy dropped the act, gesturing a surrender as he held his hands up.

"Alright, alright! There's no need to switch the language up on me," He'd assure her, standing up from her lavender made bed.

"Do you not like me or somethin'?"

"What?"

"You've been avoiding me for 2 weeks. I literally screamed your name across the hall."

"I-I didn't hear you,"

"Bullshit, you looked at me.." Isa could see Billy's annoyance written on his sleeve. She remembered that day, Isabela ignoring Billy and Nova immediately figuring it out what was going on. "You're avoiding him because you're infatuated with him.." She predicted, Isa completely denying it immediately after. So far the most annoying thing about Nova was that she was a hell of a reader.. which meant she was always right.

"I.."

"You–"He'd mock, stepping a little forward towards her.

"I do like you, Billy I jus-" She hesitated, still looking for the words to clarify her actions to him. He seemed like he was amused with his impact on her. Isa could feel very cheeks crimson and her palms got sweaty.

"You kissed me back," He'd state, putting it out there that she yearned for the burning passion between them just as much as he did.. if not more.

"I know... I.. want to keep doing that. I want to keep kissing you," Isa observed the growing smirk on the lone wolf in front of her.

"We can do that.."

"I want to kiss you everywhere. At the Alley, the skating rink, the Starcourt, at your house, at my house, in my room, in the backyard, in the cafeteria, in the halls, before and after classes–" She exhaled, her face hurting from how flushed it was.

"–I wanna go on dates, I wanna cook you food, and have not-so-study study sessions. I want to watch movies with you, laugh with you, be there for you. I don't wanna drive you away, but God damn it, Billy, you make me nervous! Every time you choose to be around me, my hands get clammy, my face resembles that of a tomato, stomach starts to hurt, my heart beats like I'm having a goddamn heart attack!" She paused again, watching it sink in for him.

"You're insufferable, Billy Hargrove, but I really like you... and i don't wanna be just 'one of your girls'. I wanna be.. the girl.." The smitten girl shut herself up after that, suffocating herself as she let the agony of his response sink. He didn't respond for a moment, still aiming to decipher the thought that she would even want to spend more time with him. Most girls usually just want a taste, an appetizer. Shit, Isabela wanted the full course, then the entire buffet. Whether good or bad, she'd taste it all.

Billy hasn't fathomed the thought of someone by his side for a long while, thinking that he was only good enough for a quick adrenaline rush for most people. He was the life of the party, but when the party ended, people didn't want much to do with his life. But she did. She actually wanted to get to know him.

The silence was long enough for Isa to assume his rejection, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. Thank God her hair was long enough to hide her face. She knew this was a bad idea, but she had to know. She took a step back, gesturing to her bedroom door.

"You can, uhm.. leave through the front door," Isa's voice started to break, the girl trying her hardest to hide the way her heart was sinking and at the same time rising up her throat. But instead of heading straight for the door, Billy stepped to Isa, walking slowly and letting the wait of his boots hit her carpeted floor.

"So.. I make you nervous?" Immediately, she was baffled, her cheeks heating up tenfold.

"Billy–" Isa looked away only for the rougish guy to keep her in place and against the wall. His hand went up to her chin, forcing her to look his way.

"Eyes on me," His eyes.. they were expressing something very crucial.. His answer. His answer had her folding like a deck of cards. It was enough that her entire face was betraying her, but her fingertips and ears got in the blushing mood.

"Y-you have my back to the wall here," And to top it all off, what Isabela expected to happen was thrown out the window.

"Good," Billy moved to pull down the tanktop she was wearing under her sweater, leaving her shoulder bare. He leaned down to peck at her smooth collarbone, his hand moving to her wrists to gently holding onto them as he tended to her.

The more he kissed the more passionate he got. He stayed at her shoulder blade for a moment, moving uo to her neck when she started to mutter to him. The light whimpers and whines only egged him on. Soon Isa could feel his breathe become heavy against her earthnut spread skin.

"God, you smell fucking good–" He huffed against her skin, groaning while he inched closer and closer to her lips. He kissed at her chin, then the pink of her cheek, then she corner of her soft lips.. his eyes flickered to hers, hungrily looking for her approach. Her eyes told him it was only green lights, her hazily brown hues yearning in silent response.

The dream-filled teen felt herself nod rapidly, inhaling as his goregous face got centimeters, millimeters closer than before. Then.. and only then did Isabela get to experience the true sensation of Billy's soft lips against hers, locking in complete passion and trust. It felt like the kiss went on forever, their lips tugging and pulling on one another, dancing with such rapture and animation. His calloused hands gripped at her hips, and her cocoa butter covered hands gripped at the red shirt he was prancing around in prior.

Billy seemed to have been starving for some action, Isa feeling the tug at her polyester clad waist. She let the arousing kiss go on for a little long before pulling away, warranting her over-stimulated expression and kiss bitten lips open to Billy's gaze. Somewhere in there, Hargrove could sense the overbearing hope.. then he realized he never really answered. He let his hands hover over her petite waist, thinning about the various was he could ask her out.

"You doin' anything tomorrow..?" Hed asked, immediately watching her expression straighten and light up.

"I-I'm free," Isa almost spat out her answer, she was so quick to speak. It made him chuckle, she realized how cute she was when her excitement about something blasted through. It was like a laser beam, putting a whole though his brain and making it mush while the appendage in his chest swelled.

"How 'bout I take you around town then? Buy you somethin' pretty, then show you off.. You are my girl after all," With that, Isa was smiling like she had just fulfilled her sweet tooth to its maximum capacity. It was big, silly, and it had Billy smiling too, genuinely and even more so when she embraced him. Her arms were tight around his waist, and her head snug against his chest, but the warmth she gave off was so welcoming. It had him thinking he was worthy of something that was honest and raw. As real as the sweet kisses he continued to give Isa as she walked him back downstairs and to his car.

Once he made it to his Camaro, he'd salute her off, taking a long exhale after he wanted his first person to walk back inside. It took guts to do what she did. To be able to dump her feelings, she's had for the past several weeks into his lap and hoped he'd understand. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't have cared to.. but it was her.

It was the woman who walked up to him just to accept his suggestion of tutoring him. It was the woman who took everything he threw at her. The flirting, the raunchy behavior, the way he approached her in the first place. It was the woman who took time out of her busy day to help him with his school work, make sure he understood the material, and made him all kinds of snacks so he wouldn't complain about being hungry. It was the woman who showed she cared.. through her heckling, sometimes bold statements, sudden actions, and just being there.. She was truly Billy's girl... ♡

. ♡ .

Thank you so much for reading all the through! I apologize that it took me so long to finish, but here it is! Hopefully, I'll finish the other one as well! Again, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!♡

Thank you @buckysgrace for your help finishing this.. very long fic

P.S. If you'd like to be tagged when I post the next part, please let me know in the comments!♡

#stangerthingsoc #stranger things #original character #artists on tumblr #stranger things art #original art #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x original character #oc x canon #oc x cc #oc #original character x canon character #isabela wheeler #Isabela Danielle Valentina Vasquez/Wheeler

65 notes · View notes

luci-is-a-bitch-x3x · 3 months

Text

Obey me! Nightbringer Diavolo Drabble:

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Welcome! To this adventure! The characters may not be how you imagine! I apologize for any poor jokes, bad spelling, and terrible grammar. Without further ado, please enjoy the content. ♡

⚠︎Caution: Nightbringer Post⚠︎

CW: nightbringer talk, could be spoilers. Lemme know if I miss any other warnings!

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

Can we just talk about nightbringer Diavolo? I love it. He's giving zero fucks, madly in love vibes. Puppy love. Like the reality that his father may and probs won't wake up hasn't set in yet, so he hasn't gotten semi more serious about doing his duties. He disobeys Barbatos and runs around with Mc like high school sweethearts. Nightbringer Dia is doing the craziest shit man, I feel like it's still him when he feels like that prince that doesn't have any responsibilities yet, just the young fun Prince. In og obey me he's still fun and silly but he's got himself a more serious, I've been doing this for a bit so I kinda know what I'm doing vibe. He gets like that in nightbringer after a certain situation or whatever, but the point is that we get to see Dia live for a bit. We get to see him just be a normal demon to a point, yeah hes still a royal so he has to live up to a certain standard but besides that he gets to do a lot more silly and goofy things. I mean he also has to do a lot of not so silly really hard traumatizing, this is what makes me so good at being the Demon Prince, and basically Demon King, things too but everyone has to experience character development. Nightbringer in general is fascinating to me and like looking at all the characters is cool but I really enjoy seeing Diavolo in this light. Like nightbringer is complicated and stressful for Mc, but I think nightbringers good for Diavolo, in the sense of him having a moment to just experience what it's like to not to live. To fall in love with someone and run around without permission trying to see the person you love. This specific thing I'm gonna talk about is a spoiler for a chat with the royals I think. But the fact that Barbs texts the group chat with Diavolo and Mc and is basically like calling Diavolo out for not being at the castle, and then Diavolo like tries to play it off and just be like oh why do you ask? And then Barbs sends a picture of Diavolo lost, kills me. But what really kills me is that Diavolo has the audacity to ask Barbatos to take him to Cocytus Hall because he's lost. Like he didn't even ask Barbatos for permission to go, and still he has no shame In asking Barb to take him to Cocytus Hall to see Mc. That and another chat where Diavolo accidentally texts the royal chat with Mc instead of just texting Mc, Diavolo is supposed to be working but is trying to sneak away to take a break and hang out with Mc and then like Barbs is just like "My lord? Do you plan to go somewhere with Mc?" I just find it so funny, like it's basically two highschool sweethearts running around trying to not get caught by their parents but instead of it being their parents it's Barbatos, who knows like everything so sneaking around him is basically impossible. Now I don't think Diavolo's love language and will to disobey Barbatos changes much in og obey me, but I still think it's changed a small amount, like yeah he still disobeys Barbatos sometimes but it's just not the same in my opinion. Like in og obey me it's kind of like a friend and a friend, with a little bit of Barbs still being a strict parent of a butler. In og obey me Diavolo is more serious about his duties so Barbs doesn't have to work as hard to keep him in check. But I'm NB obey me, it feels more like a parent and a child, Barbs has to sit there and try to keep Diavolo in check until he gets serious, and Mc is not a help in Barbs case.

Also can we just talk about NB Dia and Barbs, like okay I don't know the lesson but this is a spoiler, but like finding out that child Dia tried locking Barbatos in a room until Barbatos swore loyalty to him, is insane and so f-ing cute. There is so much of a relationship going on between those two hidden under that butler and master relationship thing they've got going on. You know Barbs gives shit to Lucifer for being soft on his brothers or when Lucifers soft on Diavolo, but Barbs is like that with Diavolo too. Like giving in and swearing your loyalty to a child who locked you in a room even though you could get out with your powers, that's giving in and being soft on them. And for Dia's birthday lesson thing, Barbs gives in and goes soft trying to let Diavolo go have a normal birthday. I'm not going to put a label on their relationship as man would that cause problems, but whatever's going on between them is cute, and I enjoy getting to witness it.

I can't end the Dia nightbringer talk without talking about Dia and Luci. Now here's my thing with them, yes even Diavolo acts like the reason he took them in is because the brothers are shiny jewels that'll make the Devildom more powerful, but he took Lucifer in, because that's his boy. Like I don't know what kind of relationship was going on between the two of them when Lucifer was still an angel, but Lucifer talks about knowing Dia before falling obvi, and when he talks about it, he acts like they got along and we're friends. As much friends as they could be, Lucifer is the Avatar of Pride and looked down on demons. The two of them have such a weird but cute relationship/friendship?? I don't care what you think it is, it's cute. Like do you think when Lucifer was still an angel Diavolo still acted the way he does with him? Do you think Diavolo just sat at the meetings between angels and demons and just complimented and complimented Lucifer until he was bright red in the face and cursing Dia to stop? Also in my opinion what makes Lucifer so special to Dia compared to the other brothers is I bet Lucifer interacted with Diavolo's father a good few times before the fall. So yes, his father did put the brothers in their order so all the brothers may have technically met Diavolo's father, but Lucifer would actually know Dia's father a little. So when Dia's all in the dumps, all is this what my father would've wanted? Am I living up to my father's expectations? Lucifer may be able to be like Barbs and give Dia reassurance as he probably met the guy before he decided to take the longest nap in history. Dia's dad literally makes Belphie look weak, Avatar of Sloth my ass, Dia's dad is the true avatar of sloth. Jkjk.

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

That's all for now babes! Hope you enjoyed!! ♡ This is not proofread. Feel free to comment or reblog any thoughts or any add ons you have! Would you guys like me to do more of these but for the other characters? Lemme know, or if you have any nightbringer content you want in general let me know. I'm at lesson 40 in nightbringer. Anyways more content is coming soon so Stay Tuned! Stay Safe! & stay Spooky! ♡

━☆*:･ﾟ✧✧ ♡ ❀ ♡ ✧━

⟡˙⋆Masterlist⋆˙⟡

#obey me thoughts #obey me imagines #obey me drabble #obey me nightbringer #om nightbringer #om nb #obey me nb #om! nightbringer #nightbringer diavolo #om nightbringer diavolo #om diavolo #om! diavolo #obey me diavolo #diavolo x mc

41 notes · View notes

fairy-eclipse · 2 years

Note

first of all i LOVE ue writing sm 😩💗 second of all can i request more hufflepuff!reader fic? maybe one where tom has a soft spot for her but pretended that he doesn't, maybe could also be in form of his fingers twitching when she's near coz he wants to hold her hand but NO why would he wanna hold ur hand dammit- unless- HAHA THANKS 🥺💗

Hand in Soiled Hand

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader

A/N: hihii sorry this took a while (；′⌒`) for the sake of the story we’re going to exaggerate splinching haha

“Destination, determination, deliberation.”

The words roll off your tongue like the recital of a sacred poem—over and over again, as if by some miracle the repetition might procure a key for the anxiety knotted around your throat. Pressed firmly against your nose and chest, the feeling is much too suffocating, locked entirely too tight for its far less grandiose cause.

Which, you’re a little ashamed to admit, is an Apparition lesson.

“Say that one more time and I will start muttering it in my sleep tonight," Tom admonishes wryly. "Besides, the course has yet to even commence. We’re rather early." He gestures to the jittery sixth years scattered throughout the Hall with a flourish. Somewhere between your stroll here and your arrival, the house tables have gone and reality has crept in with a vengeance. The capaciousness of the room does little to quell the feeling of somersaults multiplying in your stomach.

“You mean you haven’t been doing that?” You laugh, but the sound is strained even to your own ears. “Hey, what if something goes horribly awry?”

Tom shrugs offhandedly and gives you a pointed look. “You voluntarily enrolled for this. Nothing unpleasant will come of it if you follow the steps, and frankly I can’t see how anyone could fail in that regard.”

You shut your eyes. Okay, fair, but you had deemed it a good idea at the time; at least a much sounder one than Floo powder, convenience-wise. You should’ve known Tom wouldn’t share a fragment of your last minute doubts. The day he reaps anything less than an Outstanding on a paper, or loses a duel—something you can’t even begin to picture—is a cold day in Hell. Envy simmers beneath your skin.

You wrestle it down.

“It’s not that easy,” you mumble quietly, wincing as alarming images flash behind your eyelids in shades of red and horrifying angles of warp and curvature. “I’m not you, and I worry about the stakes. I could get splinched and…” You trail off and suppress a shiver.

When you open your eyes, Tom is absentmindedly twiddling his wand between deft fingers—which is odd considering he’s never been much of a fidgeter—and studying you with pinched brows like he’s carefully mulling over your words. His jaw is set in a way that you’ve taken to mean he’s either extremely peeved or…dangerously determined.

“You won’t.” Tom declares after a moment, such finality in his tone you’re almost inclined to believe him. “I’ll make—”

He glances down at his fingers. You catch the second realization dawns on his face, irritation written all over his scowl as he hastily tucks his wand into his sleeve and balls his hands into fists. You tilt your head in a silent question.

“Nothing,” Tom snaps. His voice rings clear even in the growing din. Faltering at the anguished look on your face, he pulls one of his classic Tom sighs™ you’ve grown all too familiar with.

“Quit brooding. You won’t splinch yourself—you have it on reliable authority that you’ve been mentally preparing way too long for that.” He smirks when you roll your eyes. “However…on the off chance that you do, I suppose I will,” he grows interested in a spot on the wall behind you, “visit you at the matron. Assuming I have time to.”

You break into an ear-splitting grin. It shouldn’t have taken a mere three sentences to soothe the calamitous sea you call your emotions, it really shouldn’t have, but suddenly you’re too happy to care. Tom compensating for your lack of self-assuredness? Tom promising to swing by provided you’re injured?

Good heavens.

A swarm of sweaty-faced students rush in with a commotion, greeted by the bell and the instructor’s disapproving cluck of the tongue. You swallow thickly.

Although the weight on your chest feels significantly lighter now, your pulse still thrums unsteadily—a trace of excitement laced in with the nerves this time, to your surprise. You roll your shoulders back and make to move closer to everyone else when something cold encases your hand.

Soft and grounding, you find yourself short-circuiting in your confusion before you even think of peering over your shoulder.

When you do, a pair of onyx eyes stare back.

“Wouldn’t want to lose you in the crowd,” Tom whispers, the ghost of a knowing smile lingering on his lips.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

requests

taglist: @vi0letblu3s

1K notes · View notes

killedbythehuntress · 10 months

Text

Stockholm Syndrome

★·.·´¯`·.·★ .:**:.☆*.:｡.✿ ★·.·´¯`·.·★

Also On: AO3 and Wattpad

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three

Beautiful art work below by @diligentcranberry - Thank you again, love!

Tags/Warnings:

Rape/Non-Con Elements, Twisted Love, Dark!Sebastian Sallow, alcohol use.

★·.·´¯`·.·★ .:**:.☆*.:｡.✿ ★·.·´¯`·.·★

Chapter One.

She doesn't know what makes her stop. She's walked past this stand a lot of times, the moving pictures barely catching her eye before she continues on her way. But something inside her makes her stop today. Hand over a sickle to the tender and take a copy of the Daily Prophet before she continues her daily errands.

It's not until she's home, everything unpacked, the door locked thrice and a cup of tea on the table in front of her did she finally pull out the bunch of papers she'd felt compelled to buy. The air suddenly feels like it's sucked out of the room and she can barely breathe.

Breaking News!

The Wizarding Community is on high alert at the news that Dark Wizard, Sebastian Sallow, has escaped Azkaban prison. The 24-Year-old has been in Azkaban since being convicted of the murder of his uncle in the winter of 1891. Nothing has yet been released on how he escaped the notorious prison, but we urge the community to stay safe and vigilant.

She doesn't even finish reading, instead, her eyes find their way to the picture next to it. A fifteen-year-old Sebastian stares out at her, a frown on his lips, dark eyebrows furrowed, and a look of sadness, betrayal, and regret in his eyes. She couldn't bear it, instead, she whipped out her wand and cast a quick Incendio, the Prophet immediately turning to ash on the table. How could she have been so naive to have thought the Wizengamot would've gone easy on him given everything? She may have only been 15, and while she'd been a part of the community for a good few months, she should have known that an Unforgivable - especially Avada Kadavra - would land someone in Azkaban for life. Something that Sebastian Sallow didn't deserve, regardless of his actions.

With another flick of her wand and the ash is gone, cleaned up, and almost forgotten. Her elbows rest on the table, her face buried in her hands as she sobs for the first time in years for what was lost - she'd only wanted him to learn his lesson, she hadn't wanted to lose him. Hadn't anticipated the entire fallout. Anne and Ominis had been beside her at the time, happy for her to be the one responsible to make the decision - probably to save themselves the guilt of it - but also likely using her naivety and lack of understanding of the Wizarding Law in hopes she wouldn't feel the guilt herself.

That had lasted all of three days when she saw the article detailing Sebastian’s sentencing. That had been the first time she'd broken down about her decision, she'd screamed at Ominis in the Undercroft for not telling her turning him in meant never seeing him again. She'd collapsed into his arms, sobbing into his chest but the thought that it wasn't Sebastian brought the sobs harder and faster until she pushed Ominis away and curled in on herself.

She'd finished her last two years of Hogwarts in silence, only speaking when a professor asked something of her. She pulled away from the many friends she'd made during that fateful year - not from their lack of trying - she just couldn't. She spent any time not in class in the Room of Requirements, she'd even gone through a period where she didn't eat because she couldn't face the Great Hall. But Deek had caught wind of that and made sure to always have something set on a table for her.

For as excited as she was to attend Hogwarts, leaving had felt like a relief. There were too many memories haunting her of him, and the friends she'd left behind. Part of her had wanted to run as far away from Scotland as she could, but the other part - the larger part - couldn't.

Even if she couldn't be with him, she wanted to be close.

The thought terrified her, he knew it was her decision. He'd looked so angry, so hurt as he was hauled away by the Aurors and the article detailing his sentence had quoted him. He'd promised he'd get revenge.

It was stupid of her - likely still naivety - that made her move from the Highlands surrounding Hogwarts to a small Hamlet in the northernmost area of Scotland. She'd managed to buy a single cottage on the outer edge of the hamlet, the back leading to the forest and while being there was lonely, she hadn't made much of an effort to befriend anyone. It was private, it was hers, and honestly, if Sebastian had to deal with life alone because of her. She felt she deserved it too.

Her sobs quieted after some minutes, the air in the room still heavy with the melancholy she felt. Her tea had gone cold, not that she felt she could stomach it. Her insides were in knots, she felt that any attempt to eat or drink could cause her to vomit. Any movement could cause her to collapse further in on herself.

She took a deep breath, a sigh escaping her as she reminded herself that no one knew where she lived. Not from lack of trying on their part, Ominis, Natty & Poppy had continued to try and open her back up for her last two years to no avail. Following their graduation, they'd reached out via Owl. Although the more she ignored them, the less they came.

A knock at her door pulled her from her increasingly spiraling thoughts and she frowned, pulling herself up slowly from the table. "Who is it?" She called cautiously, although it probably wasn't her best idea. It was likely just the friendly old woman down from the house closest offering her something she'd baked.

"Open the door, it's Ominis." Her eyebrows furrowed then, stepping closer to the door but not unlocking it.

"How do you know where I live?"

"I work for the Ministry, it wasn't hard." She felt a pang in her chest at his clipped words, she'd never admit it but she had missed it, missed him. Finally unlocking her door and pulling it open, she took a look at Ominis. The years had treated him well, his hair was still slicked back and his suit still made him look as regal as he always did.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, a little exasperated at the situation. Her words, while firm, still held the edge they did when she'd been crying and she hoped it had been long enough that her unexpected guest didn't notice.

"Checking in. I don't suppose you heard the news." And there it was, his way of letting her know he still cared but not in such a way she'd run and lock the door in his face. "Sebastian escaped." Stepping back slightly, audibly so that he knew he could come in.

"I did catch a glimpse at the Prophet, yes. Is that why you're here?" She asked, her voice needlessly harsh as she continued. "Here to see if I'm hiding him somewhere?"

"No, of course not." He mentioned with a frown of his own. "You surely remember what he said upon sentencing. I was merely worried about you." The words took all of the fight from her and once again she found her lip trembling as she held back her tears, another wave of guilt washing over her.

"How long has he been out?" She brings herself to ask, the newspaper was from today, sure. But if Ominis thought Sebastian could have already found his way to her, perhaps it'd been a few days.

"We think he escaped Monday, but we can't be sure. The guard he'd managed to switch with was in no condition to talk." Monday… They thought Monday and he'd only shown today for fear of her safety. It was Saturday for Merlin's sake. She felt a small flame of anger flicker in her chest. "No one realized until Thursday when the next guard was sent through."

She couldn't help but laugh at the sheer stupidity. No one noticed a guard had disappeared on his rounds. She knew the tales of Azkaban were horror stories, but for Helena's sake, she didn't expect them to be that bad. She could only imagine what it was like to be there full-time.

And that thought was enough to snuff out the anger and bring back the melancholy from earlier.

"If you're wanting to look around, just in case. I haven't been home for long." She murmured, not even sure why she'd said it. But Ominis was quick to nod, his wand flashing its usual red as he walked around the small cottage. Picking up the cup of forgotten tea, she couldn't help but feel on edge, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the news of Sebastian or if it was because there was someone other than herself in her house. No one else had been here since she moved in six years.

She busied herself doing the dishes, staring out the window into the small Hamlet until Ominis had finished his sweep. She could feel him standing by the table but she didn't turn, neither of them saying anything for a while.

"I think it's time you-"

"I want you to write to-"

They both spoke at the same time, and she finally pulled her eyes from the children she saw running in the field to look at her guest. "You first." He assured, clearing his throat. She suddenly felt a little awkward, her nose wrinkling slightly as she thought back on what she was going to say.

"No, you first." She finally decided it was for the best since she'd been about to tell him to leave.

"I want you to write to me, let me know you're okay at least weekly." Her brows furrowed and she felt another flicker of irritation.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Ominis. I made sure that when I moved here no one would know me or that I'd moved here. Until you showed up, that is." She couldn't help the bitter tone in her voice, she'd tried so hard to make sure there was no way anyone could track her down. She supposed that even without that effort, his connections at work would mean he'd always known.

"I'm serious, I just want you to let me know you're okay. At least until he's back in Azkaban." The genuine concern in his voice was bittersweet, he clearly wanted her to know that he meant it. "If I don't hear from you, I'll have to stop by again."

Heaving a frustrated sigh, she gave the blonde boy a glare that he couldn't rightfully see. "Fine. If it means I'm left alone." Deep down, she realized she didn't mean it. She'd felt so lonely and part of her felt that perhaps she wouldn't follow through just so he would turn up. But then she remembered the guilt and knew that she had to be lonely because that's what she'd sentenced Sebastian to eight years ago. "Now I'd you'd be so kind to leave, it's getting late." She finished, leaving no room for argument as she stepped to the door and pulled it open.

"Take care of yourself, please," Ominis said as he stepped back through the door, still a small look of concern on his face that made her turn away.

Once he was out, she closed the door and once again triple-locked it before checking the windows. Only when she was sure everything was secure did she curl up on her couch with a blanket, and a book open in front of her - not that she paid it any mind. Her focus was on the flames licking in the fireplace as she waited for the time she'd move from the couch to bed.

— — — — — —

The feeling of something trailing over her forehead caused her to stir slightly, sleep slipping away from her. She groaned, turning over and burying herself further into the pillows and blankets of her bed before the realization struck her.

Sitting up quickly, she looked around the bedroom, the low light from the lamp on her dresser casting shadows. But besides her and her heavy breathing, the room was empty.

She was going crazy. Paranoid.

It had been a week since the article and Ominis' visit. A week of knowing that Sebastian was out there somewhere, likely looking for her. A week of constantly feeling like she was being watched when she wasn't. It was taking a toll on her.

She briefly contemplated asking Ominis if she could stay a few days with him, to see if she felt any different. But considering last Saturday was the first time they'd spoken in years, she likely wasn't welcome.

Sighing softly, she pulled herself up from her bed. Some tea would likely help calm her. Grasping at the lamp, she stepped from her bedroom and into the main room, heading for the stove and her small tea kettle. She got busy, setting the water to boil and taking hold of a cup she'd used earlier in the day. Her eyes settled out of the window just as they had a week ago. The streets of the hamlet were dark and empty, it was raining heavily, and for some reason that soothed her a little. She'd always liked the rain.

A loud bang from her bedroom jolted her from her thoughts, dropping the teacup she held as the sound of wind howled through her home. Once more grasping her lamp, she took her wand from the counter too and crept to the doorway, looking through it cautiously. The room was still empty, there weren't any hiding places after all. The room was only big enough for a bed and a dresser.

Her eyes lifted from their observation of the room to the window. Seeing it had flown open. Frowning, she stepped further into the room and towards the window until she was able to pull it closed, locking it. She swore she'd locked it before she'd gone to bed. But perhaps the stress of the last week was getting to her, her days blending together.

She had nothing to worry about. No one but Ominis knew where she lived and he wouldn't tell anyone. It had to have been the wind from the storm, she hadn't latched it properly before bed, clearly.

The sound of a quiet whistle sounded from her kitchen and she sighed. Right, yes. Tea. That's what she needed. Pulling her curtains closed, she made her way back into the kitchen to finish her tea, hopefully when she drank it she'd be able to get back to sleep.

— — — — — —

A few days later, she found herself stopping next to the stand holding the Daily Prophet, she glanced at the headline.

Sallow Still at Large!

She didn't bother picking up a copy this time, it was likely just going to be a reiteration of what was said in the original article. Instead, she forced herself to push on, the hood of her robe pulled up over her head.

The feeling of being watched magnified each time she left the house, to the point where she was seriously considering dropping her errands to one day a week and holing herself up inside of her cottage.

She stopped at the produce vendor, picking up some pieces of fruit and vegetables as she did often, paying quickly before turning on her heel. Usually, she'd make a stop at a few more stores, but right now, she wanted to go home. She wasn't in dire need of anything else - today at least.

Walking down the main street of the hamlet, her hood up and her head down to avoid being seen meant that she wasn't looking where she was going. So it wasn't surprising when she walked into someone, the bag she held falling to the floor.

"Merlin, I'm sorry!" She said, reaching down to collect her things.

"Don't be, miss. Accidents happen." A friendly voice said she looked up briefly to see a man of around her age, brunette hair and while his smile was friendly and it definitely wasn't Sebastian she was looking at, she couldn't help the flash of his face in place of the strangers.

Suddenly she was in a bigger rush to get home, her hands trembling as she fought to ensure everything she'd dropped was picked up.

"Let me help." The young man offered and she frantically shook her head, scooping the last of the produce into her bag and standing quickly.

"N-no n-need. It's fine. I must get home." She brushed off, pushing past the kind stranger that made her think of Sebastian and speed walked her way back to her cottage, not looking back. Although that feeling at the back of her neck, that she was being watched only grew as she stepped over the threshold and once more thrice locked her door. A sigh of relief fell from her lips as her clammy forehead rested against the cool wood.

— — — — — —

Two weeks. Two weeks had passed since she'd seen that article since Ominis had visited and nothing had happened besides her losing her mind from her paranoia.

Since her run-in with not-Sebastian, she hadn't left the house. A traitorous part of her brain just wanted him to be found and back in Azkaban so that she could go back to how life was before.

As much as she didn't want to leave, she had to head into town. If she didn't want Ominis stopping by again she'd have to drop off the letter she'd written him. She also needed to get some food.

She supposed she could be quick about it, not stopping beside the two shops she needed to and then heading straight back. Chewing on her bottom lip, she considered not leaving, her eyes staring at the front door as if it could decide for her. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and blinked against the bright sun. 'Quick, just be quick.' She told herself, closing the door behind her and heading towards the main street. And if she stopped to buy a bottle of fire whiskey while she was there, who was going to judge?

— — — — — —

Slamming the door behind her, she panted - a slight panic overtaking her. She was definitely going crazy, she swore she'd seen Seb so many times in the small time she was out, only to do a double take and there would be no one there. She had to be going crazy.

Dropping the bag of food onto the kitchen counter, she rummaged through the bag until she found what she was looking for. The bottle of fire whiskey glinted in the sun streaming through the winter. Briefly, a voice in her head told her it was too early to drink, but she shut it up quickly as she pulled the top off and took a large drink.

The fiery liquid trailed down her throat and she held back a cough, even as the wince made it through. Dropping herself into the chair at the kitchen table, she held the bottle in an iron grip. As she took another long drag from the bottle, she could feel the familiar haze of calm falling over her.

She tried to remember when she'd last eaten and realized it had been breakfast yesterday. Pair that with the fact she didn't drink often and it was only normal for barely a quarter of a bottle to hit her so fast.

Time passed slowly, and the contents of the bottle also slowly dwindled as it got dark outside. At some point, it started raining again but she didn't care. She'd drunk a good amount of the bottle and she couldn't very well keep her head up off the table.

She'd never be able to get herself to bed in this state. Rolling her head to the side, she looked at the couch, wondering if she'd be able to make it there. It was only five steps, maximum.

Pushing herself up, grasping the edge of the table hard to steady herself as the room spun. Once she felt situated enough, she took a step.

So far, so good.

Another step, then another and that's when her knees buckled. Her stomach churned and she closed her eyes as she waited to meet the floor. But the meeting never came. Two arms had wrapped around her, catching her in her fall.

"Woah, there, Sweetheart. Missed me?"

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #writing #beth writes #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fic #hogwarts legacy sebastian #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow fanfiction

124 notes · View notes

just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

Ok, but what about Morpheus with a Angel Child?

A Lesson Of Tongues

Dream of the Endless & Angel!Reader

Summary: "You're saying it wrong, father." Dream makes a sound, "I was there when the language was mad-" "Then why are you saying it wrong?"

Word Count: >800

Warnings: fem!reader because i love girl dad!dream, im right!reader, youre wrong!dream, fluff, slice of life, typos, etc.

A/N: In my head, this child is the daughter of my pairing in 'Harbinger Of The Dusk' and 'holy' but you don't have to read it to understand this fic also LOL IM IMAGINING THIS GIF IS HIM JUST BEING SO DONE WITH HIS DAUGHTER HELP ASHFHAS HAHHAH also also the eyeliner T_T Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9

A small child with dark curls and shining skin walked through the halls of the library. She was wearing a dress that belonged to her mother, simply because she could, for mother was not present at the moment.

Her hair bounced on her shoulders and the way too big clothing, with way too long sleeves and way too long skirt, dragged across the floor as she carried a large book in her arms. Well, she could barely carry it.

She struggles to put the leather bound tome on the table, but after much fuss, she finally manages, finding a sudden strength in her grip. She sniffles as she grabs her dangling clothes and lifts them as she climbs up a chair. The chair she wanted to sit on was one that quite high off the ground, which was why she favored it. It made her feel like the princess she was. She struggles to get up, but after a while, finds again her strength and manages.

Once she sits down and turns to the book on the table, she catches sight of something important, someone important.

Uh-oh.

The King of the Dreaming stares at her with crossed arms. It was actually because of his power that the girl was able to place her book upon the table and to climb the chair without falling off. He would not say this though, so she would forever think it was by her own strength that she accomplished these things.

"Father," she mutters softly and slowly.

Dream nods, "daughter."

Suddenly, the feel of her mother's dress was burning her skin... or what it her father's gaze that was doing that?

"What are you wearing?" Dream asks.

The girl blinks, "hmm... a dress."

"Evidently," Dream uncrosses his arms, "who does it belong to?"

Dream knows angels cannot lie, or at least it goes against their nature to. But then again, she was only half angel. He tilts his head, awaiting a confession that still has not yet arrived. But then again, her Endless half would not make her deceptive either.

The girl decides to keep her silence.

A clever tactic, but not clever enough.

"I asked you a question," Dream presses, leaning on the table.

She decides to ignore him. She drags the book in front of her and opens it, "I don't wanna say."

Dream stills upon hearing the girl's words. Ridicule? In his own home?

He thinks if Desire were here, they'd laugh and love on the girl, encouraging her ways. He purses his lips tightly. Half Endless indeed.

The king decides to circle over to her, thinking his looming presence would coax out a what he wanted. It does not. She is rather undeterred.

Let's see how undeterred she'll be once he tells on her mother.

He finds himself examining the book she picked out. With but a glance, Dream immediately recognizes the script. It was a book about angles, written in the language of angels.

The girl goes through the book without sparing too much time. He gathers she is more interested in the pictures rather than the words.

She stops at a page that displays a picture of a glorious being, the Star of the Night, the child's mother. She smiles at it, rubbing the face of the illustration. Dream finds himself smiling as well.

In his fondness, the Endless begins to dictate the words on the paper. He speaks of the accounts the author made about the angel, his lover, and the girl turns to him upon hearing his words.

Dream continues to read the script, thinking his daughter was enjoying it. But then she waves her hands desperately and shakes her head.

"That's wrong!" she says.

Dream's words go dry.

The girl leans onto the table and points at the text, reiterating the words her father just spoke, though her finger was on the wrong side of the page. Upon speaking her people's language, she turns to Dream and says, "now you."

Dream is at a disbelief. Was this girl really correcting him?

The Prince of Stories narrates the words again, making more effort to sound more exact.

The angel girl is severely disappointed yet again.

"That's not how!" she says. She repeats the phrase he just said.

He cuts her off, "I assure you, child, I know how to speak the speech of your mother."

The girl disagrees and stands on the chair. Dream immediately reaches out for her, hands coming to her small back, securing her in place. He adjusts the drooping shoulder of her ill-fitting dress. Her soft hands come to his bony face. She repeats the words for him. Dream sighs.

The girl's father mimics her again, yet still she is not pleased.

"You're saying it wrong, father."

Dream makes a sound, "I was there when the language was mad-"

"Then why are you saying it wrong?"

Dream grunts and leans his forehead on his daughter, "you think yourself so wise little girl?"

The girl giggles at his attempts to intimidate her, registering his actions as affectionate gestures, which was why she threw her arms around him. Quite quickly she latches onto Dream and finds no more interest in the lesson she was giving him, "fly! Fly!"

Dare she demand things from the king after such insults?

"Fatherrrrrr!"

He sighs.

"At once, my love," he mutters and flies around the library.

#dream of the endless fanfic #dream & reader #dream of the endless fluff #the sandman fanfic #the sandman fluff #morpheus fluff #dream fanfic #dad!dream of the endless #dad!dream #dream & child!reader #dream x reader #dream of the endless x reader #papa bear!dream

184 notes · View notes

phddyke · 10 months

Text

What Blitz doesn’t know:

1. Stolas’s marriage is abusive

* He might not even know it’s bad. All he’s seen is royal portraits of their happy family together as he’s been led through the halls, and the Hellhound security team brought him in after Stella finished her rant. Based on his expression after Ozzie implies their affair ruined Stolas’s marriage/relationship with his daughter, he feels guilt about that. Maybe he feels like a homewrecker.

* I’m not entirely sure he knows Stolas asked for a divorce immediately after their one-night stand. Based on the pilot, he ran away with the book too fast to hear him.

* And, by that token, he doesn’t have a clue Striker was hired by Stella to not only kill Stolas but torture him first (and he never told Stolas Striker was a danger because he didn’t think he was especially unique, and now feels bad about that, I’m sure).

2. That his reaction in Ozzie’s was about being humiliated in front of so many people, not actually because he was ashamed of Blitzø.

3. By that same token, Stolas only responding with “okay” when Blitz says that their relationship is clearly only about “wanting me to fuck you” was NOT actually confirmation that Blitz’s suspicions were correct.

4. Stolas’s text messages were him trying to reassure Blitz he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want—he just became really unclear about what he wants in the process, which makes it look like he doesn’t want him to visit.

5. That he improved Stolas’s life, he didn’t ruin it. Because of Blitz, he got the closest he ever did to telling his daughter the truth about his relationship, asked for a divorce, and even after Ozzie’s he stood up for himself and DEMANDED the divorce! Not to mention Blitz clearly gave him the only happiness he had in a while.

6. The only pictures Stolas has on his phone of them make it look like Blitz is constantly annoyed by his presence.

7. He has absolutely no clue whatsoever about Blitzø’s feelings. None.

8. Striker made fun of him about the fact that Blitz didn’t come to save him.

9. He probably offered for Blitz to be his bodyguard because Stella said “Can you imagine if he didn’t have money!”, so he doesn’t think anyone will have sex with/hang out with him if money isn’t involved.

10. Stolas isn’t actually racist or classist, it’s more like he says things thoughtlessly and is blinded by privilege in many aspects. But he doesn’t have some weird fetish for imps.

11. Stolas loves him!! We all know he’s a horny motherfucker but he does deeply love Blitz so much.

What Stolas doesn’t know:

Oh man, where do I start.

1. Blitzø’s biggest fear is dying alone.

2. He’s afraid to get close to Stolas because of commitment issues and the “eventually everyone goes” mentality, BUT also because of the race/class difference he’s scared to lose his freedom and basically become one of Stolas’s servants.

3. He comes toward Stolas in the hallucination anyway. Away from everyone else and toward him. (Crawls toward him, in fact.)

4. That he stole Verosika’s car, ran three rings to Wrath, maxed her credit cards on shitty horseback-riding lessons, and left her to pay for the hotel room while they were dating. (He does know that Blitz was a selfish lover to her and broke her heart, though.)

5. He’s in awe of Stolas. You can see it when he sees his demon form when Stolas saves him, when he puts on his human disguise, and when he’s being trampled on the ground and sees Stolas’s tail feathers as he’s being carried away above him. He’s put him on such a pedestal that 1) he can’t believe Stolas would ever love him back and 2) he’s forgotten that Stolas is mortal and can be hurt, both emotionally and physically.

6. Blitzø has no idea of Stolas’s feelings toward him—since episode 2 we’ve been aware that he’s operating under the assumption that “no one” loves him, and since Ozzie’s we know Blitzø thinks that Stolas makes it clear “all the time” that their arrangement doesn’t go deeper than fucking. Therefore, when he invited him to the date at Ozzie’s, he wasn’t cruelly playing with his feelings; he had no idea said feelings existed (though, he probably should’ve been honest that he wanted to spy on M&M). Even when Moxxie says, “He seems to like you, sir,” Blitzø responds with “Okay, my dick is GOOD—but it is not that good,” misinterpreting Moxxie’s observation of Stolas’s feelings for him as Stolas’s sexual interest in him.

7. His “oh yeah…I guess it is, huh” when Stolas called Ozzie’s their first “real” date wasn’t him being like “ew I don’t wanna go on a date with this guy,” but more like “Oh right…this is our first real date and I’m using it to spy on M&M, this isn’t really how I wanted our first ‘real’ date to be.”

8. Blitzø’s obsession with M&M stems from his own desire to have a happy, healthy, monogamous marriage like they do, despite constantly mocking them about it.

9. Blitzø has a picture of Stolas asleep and himself looking happy to be cuddled up with him forefront on his phone.

10. Blitzø has scratched himself out of every picture of himself, his friends, his daughter (and twin sister) on his walls.

11. The betrayed look on his face—the “I knew this was going to happen but I was hoping it wouldn’t” when Stolas covered his face at Ozzie’s.

12. How concerned he looked when Stolas said “I seem to have been stolen by your little cowboy friend,” how much MORE concerned he looked when Striker spoke to him directly, that he was so furious he broke his phone AND damaged his car after that before he started driving recklessly and seemed to be seriously contemplating going for Stolas himself. He even grilled M&M on their ability to do so, rushed through the doctor’s appointment, vented about it in the waiting room, and looked so happy when he thought they’d brought Stolas back safe and sound. (Didn’t even correct the doctor who called him “Bingo,” just wanted to get out of there.)

13. The look on his face and the genuine surprise when he said “he can get HURT?” Not to mention the “Stolas got what?” and the crack in his voice when he said “how?”

14. When he said “If you promise this isn’t some fuck-fest invite it does sound like a blast and a half,” he wasn’t annoyed with Stolas, he was annoyed that the only thing he thought Stolas cared about was sex with him.

15. That he changed the screaming sound of Stolas’s ringtone to a cute bird one and presumably changed the contact name from “Creepy Mouth (aka one night stand bird dick)” to his actual name. Not to mention, his ringtone for Loona is a dog one—what does it say that he made Stolas’s a bird one?

16. When Blitzø is giving Stolas that weird look when they meet as children, he’s not finding kid!Stolas weird or annoying, he’s weirded out because Stolas’s father is there acting like a jackass and hitting him in front of Blitzø. (It took me multiple rewatches to notice that one, actually.)

17. That despite saying “We ain’t bodyguards. That was a one-time thing we did badly,” he saved Stolas from Striker the first time without 1) being asked or 2) paid to do it. He just did—and didn’t tell him afterwards in order to receive any type of accolades. He saved him quietly.

18. He didn’t actually deny that Stolas was his boyfriend when that’s what Millie called him.

19. Striker was the first person outside of I.M.P. to call Blitzø on his feelings for Stolas—and mock him for them.

20. “I’ll take the first watch” and “You guys better go make sure Stolas is okay” in Loo Loo Land.

21. Blitz tried to get his attention when he was attempting to break into Stolas’s room. That’s gotta mean something, idk what.

22. Blitzø lied to everyone, including himself, that he had to sleep with Stolas to get the Grimoire when he actually did that AND spent the entire night with him of his own free will (which actually jeopardized his mission, let alone helped it).

23. Blitz remembered him for over two decades—Stolas had forgotten him until he showed up again, it seems.

24. Blitzø had a chance to go home with Cash Buckzo but he stayed and played with Stolas instead.

25. He was about to say something when Fizzarolli called his love life “a pile of shit” before Verosika cut him off. He also looks at Stolas and back when Fizz sings, “Some nerve you’ve got to comment on a relationship.”

26. He cried after Ozzie’s.

* He got wasted off his ass after Ozzie’s.

* He said he could drink Queen Bee-lzebub under the table because “you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had” and told Loona he had “a really shitty day.”

* He was gonna have sex with a dude who looked like Stolas but in the end got rid of him—and requested a man by the same name as the lead in the soap opera Stolas also watches.

* He made out with, at minimum, four strangers (if Dennis was in the five-person makeout).

* He cried that Fizz was right that he was gonna die alone again.

* Even though he couldn’t remember Dennis’s name when they’d been making out ten seconds ago, the last word on his lips before he fell asleep was “Stolas” (he also seems to have gone in increasing order of importance with the names he muttered).

27. That he slept with Chaz, but said he was terrible in bed, used him for information, and snuck out as soon as Chaz was asleep instead of staying beside him all night.

28. That Blitzø was paid to hang out with him that day (though thankfully neither of them know that he was only worth $5 and a slim-fit condom to Cash Buckzo), and he didn’t want to steal from him.

29. How scared Blitz looked when he was being led back to Stolas’s room after he said “I will deal with him accordingly.”

30. He’s almost definitely reading Stolas’s apologetic and “only if you want!” texts as lack of interest.

31. How hurt/annoyed Blitz is every time Stolas thoughtlessly says something about imps, which is especially prevalent in “Harvest Moon Festival.”

32. Despite the persona he puts on and what Stolas probably believes because of that persona, Blitzø is clearly struggling with self-hatred and self-worth issues in general.

33. How much it’s going to hurt Blitzø when he reaches out and Stolas rejects him (or what he’s going to see as Stolas’s rejection when he gives him the crystal)—because that’s exactly what happened with his sister. For all we know, Stolas isn’t even aware that Blitzø has a twin sister.

34. He loves Stolas with everything he has and deep down he’s aware of that, even if he’s lying to himself about it.

Conclusion: AHHHHHH

108 notes · View notes