#(yes you still get thanked too that's part of the deal <3 )

[daengtokki]

Heyy there :) I literally can't stop thinking about SKZ f!additional member AU and softie Seungmin who seems nonchalant like the unbothered king he is but caring just deeply about reader, for example looking out for her when practice gets tough, getting snacks during recording sessions and so oooon. Yeah, I'm weak for that. Maybe you are, too. Have fun during this fluffy week either way^-^<3

This trope is interesting, but I've never actually read a single fic based on it! I'm not sure if I would do it justice. I do have an idea, though, and it's in the same vein as this, and I can add in the things that you're weak for (because same). The problem is…I can’t do it in a single ~1k word oneshot 🥲

So thank you for the inspiration for a new possible longer story! Unless everyone absolutely hates it.

If you like it, I’ll be happy.

idol!Kim Seungmin/guest artist!reader/idol!Chan x reader △

wc: ~1.1k (part 1?)

rating: angst to fluff

Day 5 of Seungmin's birthday oneshot countdown!

It's a few more weeks at the most, maybe longer, and after that...he'll probably never see you, or talk to you again. The planning stages of this was fun, he admits, and all eight of you sitting around the table talking to you on speakerphone; the excitement in everyone's eyes and voices was contagious. And of course Seungmin is excited...it's you. He's been a fan of yours for as long as he can remember, so having the opportunity to work alongside you, and maybe even sing with you? It’s a dream come true.

That's the problem.

He hasn't slept properly in a few days, and he's feeling very puffy and tired. There's only so much he can do now to prepare himself. He took a cold shower this morning, drank as much water as he could handle, but after that he couldn't stomach more than half of his iced coffee. It's still in his hand, numb from the almost melted ice, and dripping steadily on the floor. You're somewhere in this building right now, and you could walk in with the others at any moment.

Time to turn off. Turn off or make a complete ass of himself.

/ / /

You feel a little awkward as you walk toward the meeting room...recording studio? You actually have no clue where you're going, but you're flanked by two much taller men you don't know, and in front of you is Chan, who was a little red in the face when he was talking to you and asking you to call him Chris. So you do.

"Chris?"

He turns and smiles at you, and it's so...something you can't and refuse to deal with right now, you think. No. It's cute, and it's shy. The photos you've seen of him before today really did nothing for him, even the good ones. But you're a professional, and you are very good at acting professional when needed. Even when sweet, attractive men are involved.

"Yeah, all good?"

"Good, yeah! Where are we headed? Should I be mentally preparing to meet everyone?"

"Yes, definitely start preparing right now"

One more right turn and something about the door up ahead feels like the one. Meeting suite 1411. That's the one. Chris opens the door and moves aside to let you in first, and the room is empty, or appears to be. Security fell back and took up guard at the end of the hallway (unnecessary and embarrassing, you told Chris when they appeared).

"Oh, nobody is here...okay." He checks his phone and scrunches his nose, and you kind of feel like kissing it. "I'm sorry, I guess everyone ignored the group chat this morning."

"That's alright, are they somewhere else?"

"It's possible, but..." he points to the table filled with snacks and drinks. "I don't wanna drag you around looking for them." The phone is to his ear, and you hear it ringing, and ringing...

"I can wait here if you have to go find them. I already see a coffee carafe with my name on it."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I haven't had enough coffee or stare at my phone time this morning, anyway. And my friends are down the hall."

He smiles so big, you have to return is just as enthusiastically. Maybe he'll turn up his flirting, and you won't have to feel as responsible for your own.

"I'll be right back"

Chris turns on his heel and is gone, and the room is so quiet. Maybe you should put some music on. Before anything, you look over the catering and wonder if anyone will actually have time to enjoy this. The coffee and lemon water, sure, but this is actually a full-course meal in front of you. Just as you fill your cup with coffee, you hear music...but you don't think you pushed play yet.

No, definitely not, because it's your voice that you're hearing. You turn toward it, and jump when you see him standing there, almost mid-step, one hand reaching to pull at his earlobe. His eyes are wide, but other than that...he seems less surprised to see you than you are to see him. But he does at least pause the music.

"Hello," you say, hoping to get him to come a little closer. Whoever he is, and you feel like you should remember all of their names by now, he looks a little annoyed that he now has to share this space and this coffee with someone else. "My eyesight isn't great even with the contacts... I don't bite."

"Hi," he takes a few steps toward you, and you watch his long legs move in his shorts and socks and clean black converse. "I'm–"

"No, I can remember...give me a second"

He does, but he doesn't seem happy about it. This one doesn't have the carefree smile that Chris did, or the shy demeanor. It's a bit distracting, the way his lips purse into a heart, and the way his big brown eyes look down at you. His hair falls perfectly in front of his eyes, but you're pretty sure he woke up looking this good.

"Oh..." it comes to you, sort of. "You're the puppy, aren't you?" You think you see the ghost of a smile on his lips, but it's gone so quickly. "Seungmin."

"Yes, I'm the puppy. And also Seungmin."

The puppy persona fits him, at least physically. His face is soft and round, his big brown eyes turn every so slightly downward, and his ears—something about the way his ears sit on his head, is so... "it's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise"

Seungmin holds out his hand for you. You do the same, and he takes it so gently. His touch and his mien don't seem to match, and you wonder if the first impression isn't the one to remember for this one.

/ / /

Seungmin finally takes a deep breath when you turn and head toward the coffee again, and he watches as you very carefully add the smallest amount of milk and sugar to it. He finally finished his, so maybe he should make himself another cup. It gives him a reason to rejoin you instead of standing here looking like an idiot.

"Have you met everyone else, or just me?" What a stupid question, he thinks. "I mean, I'm sure you met someone...you're here."

"I met Chris. He left to go find all of you, but you must be the only one who read the message and listened."

"Yes, I saw the message. I like to be on top of things."

The way his voice lowers as he speaks sends a little shiver up your arms. Seungmin likes to be on top of things, and you love catching an innuendo wherever you can. You smirk, but wipe it from your face when you think he might be looking at you.

Seungmin sees the smile pull at your lips and then disappear immediately. "What?"

"Nothing,” you laugh. “I don’t think you talked much on the calls, did you?”

“I did not speak much, I don’t have too much creative say. I have some, it just depends on what we’re doing.”

“Well, it’s tough getting in there with eight of you, I’m sure. Everyone can’t be everywhere…too many cooks in the kitchen.”

Seungmin allows himself to laugh at that, but he stifles it a little and turns away. You’re as cute and relaxed in person as you seem in interviews, and on stage, and it’s a little overwhelming. He can’t let himself do this—he can’t get himself into something he won’t be able to escape. But he seems to remember reading something about a possible relationship you’ve gotten yourself into. Thinking about that breaks his heart a little, but it’ll at least help keep him away.

None of that matters, though. Why would you have any interest in him in the first place?

“Do you want coffee? How do you take it?”

Dammit, okay… “black is good.”

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for @vgilantee

A/N: Thank you so much for commissioning again! And specially for trusting me with an idea to write it as I want, means a lot! <3

Request: fem/afab cat hybrid reader and first time taking werewolf boyfriend’s knot?

Plug you up to shut you up

Werewolf x cat-hybrid fem!reader || dom/sub undertones, phone sex (kinda), edging, orgasm denial, knotting, oral sex

“It won’t fit,” he told you for the thousandth time.

“Yes it will,” you argued, also a for the thousandth time. Your tail moving around in agitation. You weren’t asking much of him, just for his knot. You two had been dating for a few months, you deserved to be stretched and stuffed, didn’t you?

“No it won’t. Stop asking about it, you’ll get hurt and I don’t wanna hurt you.” His worry was adorable and you wanted to hug him about it, but also scratch his face because he was being way too nice about it.

“I won’t get hurt!” You argued again.

“Yes you will, you are tiny and your pussy is just too tight for it to fit.” His voice was exasperated, like he was arguing with a kid, or like he was a dom arguing with his bratty sub… Which was pretty much what was happening right there.

“Pretty please…” You asked, looking up at him, blinking slowly, trying your best innocent look.

“No,” he repeated. But you saw a hint of a smile in the corner of his lips. He was going to agree, you just needed to try a bit harder.

“Pleaaaaaaaaase…” you repeated, pouting. You caressed his chest slowly and acted all coy. He loved when you did that.

He sighed. “Ugh. I hate you.”

You jumped, happily and hugged him around his middle. “No you don’t, you love me so much you are going to stuff me with your knot.”

He grabbed your wrist and kissed you until you were out of breath. When you broke apart, he told you: “Okay, but we need to do some prep first.”

“What kind of prep?” You asked, already suspicious of his intentions.

That’s how you found yourself wearing a plug in the middle of the day. He bought some kind of special plugs that were made exactly for your purpose. There were five of them and you were supposed to change them during the day leading to the knotting. He did a lot of research before buying them and was so serious about it that you couldn’t be mad about it. He was adorable, like a puppy.

He woke you up earlier that morning, knowing he had to go to work, just so he could eat you out and plug you with the first size. It was a bit uncomfortable to move around, but you could deal with it. It was fine. You made breakfast and worked for a bit before he video-called you.

“Hey darling, what do you want?” You asked, busy with your latest drawing. You had a deadline soon and wanted to do as much as possible as fast as possible.

“It’s time for you to change the plug,” he reminded you. There was an edge in his voice, the exact same edge as the one he had when he was ready to push his dick inside of you. Fuck, how was the tone of his voice so fucking hot? Being madly in love with a werewolf was fucking with your brain, you now got wet when he talked. Just talked. Insane, you were going completely insane.

“Yeah, right. Will do,” you answered, not paying too much attention to him as you reached to end the call.

He stopped you. “Hey wait! I want to see.”

You looked back at the phone like he grew a second head. “What?”

“I called so I could see as you change it. I want to see.” His voice was pleading, but demanding. The idea of him calling you just to see your pussy was making you all kinds of hot and bothered, and it was annoying. But you agreed, because it was making you all kinds of hot and bothered. Fuck, you wanted to cum so bad.

You positioned your phone so the frontal camera was looking at your pussy, your face extremely red as you parted your legs. You could hear his intake of breath as you parted your lips and he saw the base of the plug still inside. His grunt of pleasure made you whimper as you pulled the plug out. Your pussy gaped as he groaned.

“Fuck, kitten, look at you. It looks so puffy and swollen for me. You are going to look so pretty wrapped around my knot.” You blushed harder, trying to insert the second size without knocking off the phone. You whimpered again when it made contact with your swollen clit. “Fuck, do that again. Touch your pretty pussy for me, kitten.” His growl was so deep it made you groan. You complied, running the plug up and down your slit and getting it all wet. You were so ready to come you wanted to beg. “That’s enough, kitten. You can’t come, remember? I told you that this morning.” You whimpered, but obeyed. You wanted to be a good kitten. You pushed the plug inside, feeling the stretch but still comfortable with it. “Good job, you are doing perfectly. How does that feel?”

“Go- good.” Your voice broke down when you lowered your leg and the plug pressed against your G-spot. Fuck. This one was going to be harder.

“I will call you later for the next size. Love you, bye!” His cheerful nature annoyed you to no end. He called you, got you all hot and bothered and then had the audacity to forbid you from coming and then hang up on you. Fucking werewolves (affectionately).

It went exactly like that three more times. Each size up was harder and harder to adapt to. You felt so stretched and needy you wanted to grind against every single surface, unable to sit down since size three. You had been standing around, trying to clean but failing. Every time you bent down to pick something, it pressed against your G-spot and you saw stars. When the fifth plug was inside of you, you couldn’t hold it anymore and had to call him.

He picked up at the second ring. “Please… Please come home. I- I need…” You whimpered, unable to keep talking.

“I’m on my way, go strip and wait for me on the bed. Face down, ass up. Be a good kitten for me.” He instructed. You followed his instructions without even processing them. “Don’t hang up on me, talk to me, tell me what you did today.” You could hear him walking around, closing the door to the car. The anticipation was killing you.

You tried to tell him, to distract yourself so you wouldn’t grind onto the bed until you came all over yourself. You told him about your new project, about the art supplies you wanted to get, and he listened and asked questions. Without realizing he arrived home.

You heard the door closing as he hung up the phone and ran to the bedroom. You were exactly how he instructed, face down, ass up. Your tail was going crazy from side to side waiting for him. You felt on the edge of the biggest orgasm you’d ever felt, and he was just standing there.

“Please…” Your plea broke him out of his stupor, tearing off his clothes as he approached the bed.

“Good goddess kitten, you look good enough to eat. Are you ready? Do you still want this? You can say no.” He was always so sweet that you wanted to cry, but at that moment it infuriated you.

“Knot me already!” You cried out, more than ready. You always appreciated when he asked stuff and asked for consent beforehand, but in that moment you were beyond any questioning, you wanted to be filled. You wanted to be stuffed with his knot.

He didn’t comment anymore, he lowered his pants and threw them someplace behind him. You could hear something breaking, but you didn’t care. He slowly but surely took the plug out as you cried out his name, grinding back against air as your gaping pussy dripped with fresh juices. You were so turned on you could cry. Maybe you were crying already. You couldn't feel anything apart from his hand on your hip and the tip of his cock at your entrance.

He didn’t ask anymore. He pushed right in and you groaned, coming instantly around him. Your claws tearing through the bed sheets. He grunted behind you, not stopping. He held your hips secure as your arms went limp under you and you face-planted to the bed. He kept fucking into you and telling you how pretty you looked, how good your pussy felt around his shaft. You came at least twice more before you felt the knot forming.

“Do you want it? Tell me you want my knot, kitten.” His voice was soft and demanding, and it made your insides melt. You loved that stupid werewolf so much you could squeeze him until he disappeared. But right now you needed his knot more than anything.

“Yes. YES. Knot me!” He didn’t wait anymore. He pulled your tail up, making you scream as he pushed his fat knot inside your pussy. Your eyes crossed and your brain turned off. The only thing you could feel was the stretch of his knot and the first shot of his cum deep inside.

“Does that feel good, kitten? Do you like to be so full you can’t even talk?” He chuckled at your blissed out face. “Guess it does, you love it, don’t you?” He rolled his hips and you opened your mouth to say something, but you could only drool in pleasure, too fucked out to even control your saliva. Embarrassing. But so fucking good you could die impaled on his cock and you’d die a happy cat. “If I had known all it took for you to shut up was to fill you to the brim I would have done it sooner.” You tried to argue with him but when you opened your mouth the only thing that you could do was moan as your eyes rolled back into your head. It was insane how big he felt inside of you, how stretched you felt. It was like you were going to break apart, but at the same time, his knot was the only thing keeping you together.

By the time the knot went down, he was still grinding inside of you, your pussy raw and abused. It felt like pain and pleasure mixed in the most excruciating sensation you’d ever felt. As soon as his knot deflated, he was there, tongue and fingers and playing with your used hole. He licked and sucked and made out with your pussy until you were coming again. And then another time. Your body couldn’t hold you up anymore, and you gave up trying.

“I like you like this, limp and fucked out. We should do that again.” His voice was cheerful and animated, and you wanted to scratch his face for being so fucking annoying. But good lord if you didn’t want to be fucked like that again. “I take that groan as a yes,” he said with a laugh.

Ugh, fucking werewolves.

Reminder that you can also commission me, info here.

[smutallyouwant]

Twice One-Shot World chp. 3

Premium Sex Doll

Word Count: aprroximately 3k words

Momo x M Reader

You're a struggling young adult, you got a job that doesn't even suffice for your needs. One day a business man came to your house and offered you a deal that you can't say no to.

Includes: Rape role play

" Fuck my life, my work at the convenient store only pays me enough for my food and rent. I don't even have some extra money to have some fun, bro " you said on the phone.

" Man, maybe if you followed your mom to the States maybe your life would be better "

" Fuck her too, since my dad died she got a new partner and left me. Yes I decided not to go to the States with her because I don't like her having another man " you answered.

" Some luck will surely come for you, don't give up " your friend answered.

*knock knock knock

" Thanks bro, someone is at the door. So bye now "

You walked out of your bed and opened the door of your apartment. A man in a suit suddenly asked if he may come in. You're skeptical at first but what can he get from you if he robbed your house? Nothing, so you let him in and closed the door.

" Please sit down sir, I can only offer you water sorry " you said.

" Don't bother this talk will be short and you can't say no to this "

-The next day came-

*beep beep

A truck pulled over in front of your apartment and brought a big wooden box inside your apartment.

" here's your package sir, we just need you to sign up here "

You signed the paperwork and they left. You opened the box and you lifted a doll wearing white top and white shorts. The man yesterday offered you half a million dollars to try out their sex dolls. They are made with artificial materials similar to silicone but the texture is much more improved and it simulates human skin and flesh. Only 10 of these are contributed around the world. They examined their test runners carefully so that they will not be caught by the law, as their production is illegal. They prefer not so prominent people. But in exchange you have to give up your current job. You accepted and they gave you half the money straight to your bank before leaving.

" Hell, this doll is crazy beautiful. Do I really get to have sex with this? "

You opened the instructions, it said that it needed to be charged but it was delivered full of battery. It said that it has voice control you just need to say " Momo " before the command. The instructions said " Say, Momo, open to activate"

" Momo, Open " you said.

" Good morning master "

" Wwwwoooo " you shouted.

You were shocked that it said a word and also moved like a person towards you. The doll puts its arms on your shoulders.

" You can command me anything , master"

" Call me, Momo " she added.

" Momo, stand still "

Momo stood there and her arms returned to neutral. You're still shocked at this point, you pressed her shoulder and grabbed one of her boobs and it feels just like a real human. On this point you're aroused, you begin sniffing its shoulders and her scent is as sweet as a flower. It's been so long since you did this to a woman and it made you more excited.

You started kissing her neck while groping her ass and boobs. But something is missing.

" Momo, you can move now and moan for me " you commanded.

Momo hugged your neck and her other arm is caressing your face. She also closed the gap between her waist and yours to grind your bulge into her shorts.

" Ugh, master that feels so good "

" Call me Y/N " you said

"yess Y/N, does Momo taste good? "

" Yes Momo, you're so fucking good " you answered.

Her lips are so plump and cute that you decided to take a taste. You slammed your mouth into hers and sloppily kissed Momo. Momo does have some automated actions when taking part in sex activity. It is stated in the manual. She started caressing your bulge and she also kissed your neck. As she does so you removed your pants and underwear.

" Momo, suck my cock. Suck it good "

You lead her to the bedroom and you sit on the bed. She spits on your throbbing cock and licks it wildly before taking it all in her mouth.

" UGHH " you moaned as she does a fellatio on your hard long cock.

" Yes take it like a good girl "

" mmhgh, mmh, mmh " moans are escaping through her mouth.

She is looking at you all this time, and you started pounding her throat but she takes it like nothing.

*golk golk golk golk

You started to forget that she's a doll and thinks of her as a woman that you can fuck all you want.

" Fuck! What a slut taking it all like nothing "

Momo smiled as you dumped all your cum inside her throat. Momo stood up and sat on you as she kissed you deep.

" Ughh, can you go again Y/N? Momo need a rough fucking "

" Of course, but now call me baby "

" Yes baby " she answered.

You pushed her into the bed as you planted your tongue into her mouth. You made out and you began removing her top off, revealing a good set of tits with pink nipples. You sucked the hell out of the good pair and Momo hugged your neck.

" Yes baby suck my tits good, ugh "

You moved down and removed her shorts and underwear revealing a pinkish red slit.

" Fuck what a good food "

You fucking ate her pussy good, she wrapped her legs to your neck and held your head with her palm.

" Ughhh, babyyy you eat pussy so good "

" Suck my clitoris right there "

You sucked and played with it with your mouth and she began shaking violently. She squirted on your face as she shakes.

" UGHHHHH " she shouted.

" Sorry baby I ended up squirting on your face because you're so good at eating pussy"

You did not answer and you just inserted your dick inside her pussy. Momo can adjust her insides depending on the dick of the user, ensuring the best pleasure. You fucked her like a wild animal as you're too horny from her squirting on your face.

" Ughh baby, you'll make me cum again " she whined.

" Here's your reward for squirting at my face slut "

" Yes baby I'm your only slut, fuck this pussy harder ughh "

Her face is so seductive and it shows how good she feels. You felt more pleasure as her pussy adjusted on your dick. She started licking your nipples adding pleasure while you ram her.

" Baby fill me up with your cum, make a baby with me "

You forgot that she can also detect if the user is cumming so her pussy started to grip your dick harder.

" Fuckk here's my cum you slut " you pulled out your dick and you came into her face.

" Here's my revenge " you added.

She took the cum with her finger and licked it while looking at you.

" Ugh baby, I said you should fill me up but it's alright your cum tastes good "

" Oh I'm not done " you said.

You positioned her near the edge of the bed while in a supine position exposing her chest and toned abs.

" Momo, open your mouth and show me your tongue"

As she does so, you aligned your dick to her mouth and fucked her throat like there's no tomorrow. You grabbed both her tits as your leverage, you spit on her nipples and played with it with your finger. Momo reached down her pussy and started fingering.

"You're a naughty little slut, are you Momo? "

She responded with wild moans as you grope and played with her boobs while destroying her throat. She uses her 2 fingers to fuck her pussy with the other arm played with her clitoris. The scene made you wanna cum so bad.

" Here's my cum, take it Momo "

You grabbed her waist and planted your dick deep into her throat. Momo came again and this time she squirted into your bed. You grabbed her by the neck and pushed her head towards the wet part of the bed. Her ass is now exposed as her waist is bent down.

" Lick your piss you slut, taste it "

Momo started licking the bed sheets. As she makes out with the bed sheet passionately you inserted your dick again and started pumping inside her pussy.

" mmmmhhh ,mmhhh, " she moaned pleasurably as you pushed her more to the bed that muffled her cries.

You suddenly grabbed her hair and pulled it causing her to squeal. Your other hand grabbed her by the neck and choked her as hard as you could. Her moans are replaced by cries for aid to breath. Momo can't feel pain but she'll stimulate the effects of such inflicted pain on her. She tears and her tongue is exposed now. As you're finishing you let go of her neck causing her to lay her head flat on the we sheets and breath for air as you shoot your cum inside her. You looked at her as she is like a poor girl licking the bed sheets.

You finished by unloading the cum inside her tank and cleaning her. You cleaned your room and an idea came to your mind.

Her wardrobe included in her box has many types of dress and styles to pick. And it also has many hair styles included. You charged her for the rest of the day and woke her up at night.

" What, where am I and who are you? " Momo asked.

Before this happened you told her to dress up like a nerdy school girl that knows nothing about how he ended up inside your house. You always thought that your rape kink is weird but now you get to try it. You told her to fight back in the start and slowly be submissive as the time went by.

" Oh you suddenly went inside here and you're not going to get out " you said.

" Oh sorry, I'm heading out now " she answered.

You pulled her arm. Her scaredness is very evident as she is shaking and her voice.

" Sorry sorry, please let me out "

You threw her bag to the side and grabbed both her wrist, pushed her to the wall and started kissing her neck aggressively.

She started crying and struggled from your body weight as you push your body towards her.

" Please stopp, I need to go home now " her voice trembles.

You ignored her pleas and started groping her chest. Her arm attempted to push you back but you're just too overwhelming.

" Your chest is so big for a high schooler like you, don't you think? "

You palmed her mouth forcing her into a kiss. She hits you with her hands while your tongue slides inside her mouth and you start sucking her tongue out. Her hands stopped hitting your chest and it rests on your shoulders now. She unconsciously fought back with your mouth and tongue movements. Your fingers wiped off some of her tears as you're making out. The student's crying eyes shut down as her body gave in to your seduction. Her hands caress your body as you grope her breasts more . You gently move towards the bed pulling her and pushing her down to kneel at the floor. You dropped your shorts down and you placed her hand on your dick. Her cries became gazes of lust as she stroked your shaft. You held her face and moved it closer to your dick causing her to suck on it like a lollipop. Her blowjob is sloppy as she simulates a student who doesn't do such things. She is a modest student who just sucked a dick right now.

" Yes just suck it like that "

" mmhhh mhhh mh " her moans escapes out of her mouth.

You removed her glasses.

" Look at me " you asserted.

She looked at you with lustful eyes.

" Do you want me to fuck you? "

She shook her head signalling a " no " .

You slapped her hard into the face that caused her to shout and cry on the floor. You pulled her hair hard and she is begging you to stop.

" please stop, I gave you a blowjob already "

You pushed her into the bed face down and you removed her underwear. You don't want to remove her uniform as the visual contributes to your pleasure. You started fucking her from behind. Her back is arced and her arms pinched the bed so hard as you ram her back.

" Ughh please , I'm hurting " she pleaded .

" You don't have to pretend to be a little girl, you like this don't you? "

" Argghh, no ! " She answered.

" Then why did your ass follow my rhythm and start pumping as well? Look at your exposed tongue as you enjoys being raped "

" No I don't like it " she said while smiling seductively.

You switched position and you removed half of her buttons, revealing her bra and her shoulders. You fucked her missionary as moans came out both of your mouths. Momo plays her tits as you pound her and she accepted your follow wet kisses as you fuck each other.

" Is my cock that delicious ? "

" Yesss ugh, I mean no "

" You don't have to hide it anymore baby girl "

" No it's just that your cock is so huge that it makes me crazy " she said while holding your face with both her arms.

She pulled you into a deep kiss.

" Yesss I'm cumming, keep fucking my pussy like that please "

" I'm cumming inside you "

" YESS please fill my young pussy with your cum "

You came hard into her pussy and both of you moaned in unison. After a short break, you ordered her to suck your dick as you play video games. Before going to bed you charged her and ordered her to wake you up with kisses on your cheeks and a good ol' handjob.

This sex doll is now yours provided that you submit transparent and honest reports to the company each week. She's only programmed for sex activities if not so, you could have asked her to cook for you haha. She's indeed programmed well.

If you're the one that the company picked to be one of the product testers, what burglar things will you do to Momo?

[moonstruckme]

for thawing out, i see how you've already characterized the reader as kind of the calm, even keeled one of the group and i would LOVE to just see her stand up for herself and absolutely blow up after getting pushed too far by the boys (a little mean of me to want her to go through that but-) but yes i love me a good out of character moment that kind of make the characters be like "oh shit maybe we shouldn't be acting this way-" love you babe 🫶

Hi lovely, idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but thanks sm for requesting! Love you <3

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: modern au, chronic pain, implied past abuse, hurt no comfort (for some)

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.9k words

When Remus arrives at your apartment the next morning, Sirius is already standing at the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest as he glowers in Remus’ direction, but it’s difficult to find him very intimidating when his nose is pink from the cold. 

“Oh,” he says, feeling awkward. “Hello.” 

“Hi,” Sirius replies drily. “What are you doing here?” 

Remus shrugs. Fine. If Sirius wants to be a prick (and what else is new), he can do that too. “I didn’t think you’d come. Have you knocked already?” 

“Of course I knocked,” he all but sneers. “Why would you assume I wasn’t going to be here? I said I would be.” 

“I honestly didn’t expect you’d be able to drag yourself out of bed.” 

Sirius looks ready to make a retort, but your door opens. You look surprised to see both boys on your doorstep, your smile tentative. Remus still doesn’t understand how you can do that at such an early hour. 

“Hi,” you say. Then you turn to Sirius, grin widening as you pinch the frozen tip of his nose fondly. “You made it.” 

“Obviously I made it!” The other boy’s voice takes on a wounded tone, and Remus has to tuck a smile into his scarf. Sirius must suspect, because his gaze narrows.

“How did you get this address?” he asks Remus. 

Remus feels his brow crinkle. It’s not as if he’s the one you’re in danger of. 

“He texted me last night, and I gave it to him,” you answer for him. “I sort of assumed you’d oversleep.” 

Sirius makes an indignant scoffing noise, but he appears to have nothing more to say. He seems in especially brutish form today. You’re as unphased by his moods as usual, hooking your arm through his. 

“I’m sorry to get you both up so early, but I suppose two guard dogs are even better than one.” You squeeze Sirius’ bicep affectionately, and the look you send Remus is pure sweetness. “It’s really nice of you both to come.” 

Something warm and fond blooms in Remus’ chest. Sirius mutters some disgruntled sort of assent. 

You grin. “And now, we can all buy our own drinks!” 

“Oh, fuck this then,” Sirius’ irritating pugnacious tone is back, though now it’s at least partly for show. “I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I want out.” 

You only make an amused pffting sound, pulling him playfully against your side. 

Remus falls back to let the two of you walk alongside each other on the sidewalk. It’s odd and occasionally entertaining to watch you, so entirely familiar and at ease with each other. It’s the sort of relationship Remus hasn’t had in years, and he’s beginning to question whether he ever had a bond quite as close as yours. It’s obvious even from the outside that the pair of you know each other inside and out, and that you love each other just as deeply. But Sirius’ love is another thing entirely; the way he looks at you is almost too painful to witness. 

Remus doesn’t understand why Sirius hasn’t pursued you. He certainly prefers it this way; it makes his job considerably easier with things platonic and professional between the pair of you, but it just doesn’t add up. Sirius strikes him as the sort of cocksure prat who goes for what he wants, every time. He’s certainly arrogant enough to be sure he’ll get it, and admittedly, with his looks and devil-may-care attitude, there aren’t many people Remus can see turning him down. (They definitely should, but they likely wouldn’t.) Perhaps, after knowing him so long and working with him so closely, you’re simply too smart to get entangled with the likes of Sirius Black. 

You do eventually look back to call Remus up to join the two of you. Sirius looks irked at this, and Remus wishes he could say he was more mature, but he goes in large part because of it. You loop your other arm through his and make sure to include him in your conversation the rest of the way to the rink. 

The morning’s practice goes by with much of the same forced camaraderie. You’re friendly and receptive, Sirius is loud and irksome, but overall Remus is pleased with how things are going. You’re improving every day, to a degree Remus can’t help but admire. He can easily see you perfecting this routine by the Olympics in less than a month, which certainly defies his expectations from when he first started coaching you. Sirius is the same as always; he’s not as consistent or as controlled as Remus would like, but he doesn’t seem inclined to change and his form is (though Remus wouldn’t admit it aloud even at knifepoint) truly beautiful to watch. 

By the end, he has only one thing to say. 

“I think we need to up the ante.” 

You look up from where you’re putting on your skate guards, intrigued. “How do you mean?”

“You’re going to perfect this routine.” Remus can say that with confidence now. A nice little bonus is the way your face lights with bashful pride when he does. “You’ll get plenty of execution points from that, but if you want to really compete it wouldn’t hurt to add a higher difficulty move.” 

Sirius looks up, his gaze watchful. 

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

“A death spiral,” says Remus. “We could fit it in during the lower-level sequence towards the end. You should be ending with more of a crescendo anyway.” 

You’re nodding. “An outside death spiral?” 

“And backwards, if you’re up for it.” 

“No way.” Sirius’ skates are already in his bag. You look over at him, bemused, but he’s looking at Remus. “You can’t fuck with the program this late. It’s only a couple of weeks before we leave.” 

Reluctantly, Remus turns to face him. His eyes are like a brewing storm. “And would you like to medal whilst you’re there?” 

“We don’t need this to medal.” 

“You don’t know what the competition will be like. You need to bring everything you can to the routine.” 

Sirius kisses his teeth. He stands, looking at Remus with barely repressed malice. “A backwards outside death spiral isn’t something you can just toss in at the last minute. We’re only just starting to manage what we have in the routine already! It’s too risky.” 

Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes. Sirius isn’t subtle; it’s clear what this is really about. “She’s going to be fine,” he says firmly, refusing to back down when the other boy's eyes narrow. “She’s perfectly capable of deciding for herself whether she wants to do this, and your feelings cannot be the deciding factor here. The death spiral is a staple of pair routines. You have to take some risks if you want to compete at this level.” 

“Oh, do you?” Sirius’ laugh is cold and dead. “Is that what you did? If it’s so fucking easy, why don’t we get out there so you can show us how it’s done?” He juts his chin towards the ice, jaw set and eyes blazing. “You can let us see how great it works out to take risks.” 

Remus doesn’t even feel the ache in his hip as he takes two quick steps towards Sirius, towering over the other boy with his blood pounding in his ears. Sirius is forced to look up, but he turns his chin up defiantly. His face hardens as he takes in a short, quick breath. 

You cram yourself between them. 

It’s like snapping back into his body. Remus stumbles back, his hip screaming at the hurried motion. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste iron, collapsing backwards onto the bench while you put yourself in front of Sirius like a human shield. Your expression is wrathful. 

“Do not do that,” you growl. You reach behind you, taking Sirius’ forearm in your grasp as though to keep him from moving. “God, why do you both have to be such dickheads to each other? We’re done here.” 

You march straight past Remus, dragging Sirius along on your other side like a dog on a leash. He looks about as shell-shocked as Remus feels. Your outburst knocked him flat on his ass, literally. It’s not that Remus didn’t think you were capable of yelling; he suspected you had fangs, but the venom came as a surprise. 

He winces when the door bangs shut behind you. They probably deserve that. He doesn’t envy Sirius, who’s likely to get a lengthy lecture from you on the walk home, but Remus does realize this could mean him losing his job. Trading petty remarks with Sirius had almost begun to feel like part of his role, but he’d never expected to make you so furious. He doesn’t know what it will mean for him that he has. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

During the entirety of Remus’ long, steamy shower, he cannot stop thinking of the look on Sirius’ face. The way his eyes had almost changed color, going from a murky gray to blue like the hottest part of a flame. He’d looked almost pleading, for half a second after Remus first brought up the death spiral, before his face hardened back into harsh stoniness. He keeps fixating on that look, that second where the dynamic between them seemed on the brink of shifting before it didn’t. But maybe it never could have. Maybe Remus imagined the whole thing; it was only half a second, anyway. 

Regardless, he feels stupid for stooping to Sirius’ level. He’s better than that, he hopes, but in the last few weeks he’s let the other boy bring out the worst in him. He decides that if you don’t fire him, he’s going to try harder to be above it. If Sirius wants to trade insults like a child, Remus can treat him like a child; with patience and a repertoire of aloof platitudes, but he won’t engage with him anymore. 

He’s put on a pair of pajama pants and is moving the waistband to hold a pack of frozen peas to his hip when there’s a knock on his door. He leans back to peer through the window, and there you are, blowing into your hands and shivering on his doorstep. 

Remus groans as he gets up. He was really hoping to have at least one night of relaxation before having to have this conversation. 

You must stop rubbing your hands together when you hear him opening the door. “Hi,” you say. 

“Hi,” Remus replies, amused despite himself. They’re having one of those odd nights where snow falls but doesn’t stick, except to you apparently. Little white flakes are tangled in your hair and dusted across your shoulders. Remus can see some between your eyelashes when you blink. You’re stiff as a board, but there’s no hiding the tiny waves of trembles that shake your frame. 

“I hope it’s okay that I didn’t call first.” Your voice is teetering on the brink of a chitter.

“Yeah, it’s alright.” Remus really shouldn’t feel so warm towards you when you’re likely here to fire (or at the very least, berate) him, but you do look terribly cold. “Would you like to come in?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You step inside so fast he hardly has time to make room for you, and the sleeve of your coat brushes against his bare chest, making him shiver. Remus realizes then that he’s not wearing a shirt, but he decides not to care; it is his house (or his rental, at least), and you’re the one who showed up unannounced. He’s entitled to be as underdressed as he likes. 

This small bit of indignance, though founded entirely from a battle within himself, reminds Remus to be miffed with you. 

“If you’re going to ask me to apologize to Sirius,” he says, going to the kitchen to put the kettle on (he may be miffed, but he is still Welsh), “you can save it. I have no intention of getting into a row like that with him again, but I was not the one who was being unreasonable.” 

You rub your lips together, nodding. “Yeah, I agree. You shouldn’t apologize to him.” 

Remus feels his eyebrows draw together. “Okay…good. Because I’m not planning on it,” he says, just to be sure you understand. “He was completely out of line.” 

You nod again. “He was.” 

Remus finds his eyes straying to the door while he mulls over whether he’s feeling impolite enough to ask the next logical question. Then what are you doing here?

You take in a breath, letting it whoosh out of you. “I came because I want to apologize.” 

It’s impossible to keep the surprise off his face. “You?” 

“Yeah.” You rock a bit on your feet, and Remus realizes you’re still wearing your coat. Either you don’t plan to stay long, or you’re too anxious to take it off without an invitation. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. It was really harsh—I mean, I was right, but I didn’t need to be cruel about it.” You glance to the side, a bit of bashfulness softening your voice. “I also shouldn’t have called you a dickhead.” 

A little chuckle escapes him. “We were being dickheads.” 

“You were,” you agree, “but I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t want to be like that. I’m sorry, and I hope you still want to stay with us.” 

You look back at him, your expression intentionally firm but your eyes beseeching, and some part of Remus melts. He and Sirius get into fights all the time—loud ones, with shouting and name calling and absolutely no holds barred—but you snap at them once, and here you are. Having walked here by yourself in the cold because you feel bad about it. 

“Let me get your coat,” he offers.

You take your tea to the couch, where you curl up automatically on the side opposite Remus’, pulling your legs in so he can pass between you and the coffee table. Remus picks his peas back up as he sits carefully, stifling a groan. It’s a bit embarrassing to ice his hip in front of you, but the pain has become too much to ignore. 

You wince as you watch him settle them underneath his waistband. “Is that because of me?” 

He can’t very well tell you the truth when you sound so guilty. “No,” he says. “I have to do this a lot.” That part’s not a lie. 

You nod, still looking sorry. Remus is grateful when you move on quickly. 

“Just so you know,” you say, “Sirius probably won’t apologize to you either.” 

Remus almost snorts. “Yeah, I wasn’t anticipating he would.” 

You smile ruefully. “I know he probably feels bad about saying what he did—he knows he had no right—but he just gets so caught up in anger sometimes. If it helps at all, today was just an especially hard day for him. He’s always…extra on edge around this time of year. You learn not to take the things he says personally.” 

Remus studies you through narrowed eyes. He blows steam off his tea. “Does he do that to you often?” 

You shake your head. “I don’t typically goad him,” you say with no small amount of humor. Or pointedness. 

He lifts a brow. He’s already told you he won’t be apologizing for giving as good as he gets. 

You sigh, your expression going somber. “Listen, I know Sirius can get really—” you shake your head again, blowing out a breath “—really quite hot headed, but you can’t get in his face like that. His life has—well, it’s not my place to tell you about what his life has been, but even when he says things like that, you can’t act all threatening just because you’re having a spat, okay?” 

Remus feels his brow wrinkle. “Threatening?” 

Your face softens. “You looked like you were about to hit him,” you say gently. 

Something inside Remus gutters. “I did?” 

You nod, looking almost apologetic. He feels nauseous. 

“I didn’t…” 

“I don’t think you would have,” you clarify. “I’m not saying I thought you were going to hit him, I just know how Sirius works. And from his perspective, I know how it looked. You can’t do that to him.” 

“I don’t want to do that to anyone.” Remus sounds injured even to his own ears, and so he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to shut out the pained pinch of your mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments. “I really had no idea that’s how it looked. I think I got too caught up in being angry about what he said, but it won’t happen again.” 

“I know.” Your voice is gentle. You set a hand on his knee, tentative but there. “I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. It’s okay, just…now you know. For next time.” Remus opens his eyes again, and you smile wryly. “You can shout at him all you want. Don’t let him dish it out without making him take it, but just stay away from physical stuff like that, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Remus agrees hoarsely. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” You give his knee a friendly pat, leaning back against the couch cushions and sipping your tea. 

Again, Remus marvels at you. Sirius fights for you every day, whether you ask him to or not, loud and bold and relentless in his devotion to you. He wonders if Sirius knows that even when he doesn’t ask, in your own way, you go to bat for him too.

[maxivstappen]

congrats on 1k again mel 🤍 i'm so proud of u!!

i'm requesting for ur event: the lyrics "you make me wanna fall in love" from "juno" by sabrina, and the driver is oscar piastri

౨ৎ MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE ‧˚. OP81

౨ৎ PART OF MY 1K EVENT & my short n' sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ

summary — you said it was casual, but you both knew it wasn’t. he liked to tell people that he’s certainly not in love with you, so maybe you just had to make him fall in love.

a/n — thank you so much for your constant support ml🥹 im not too happy with how this turned out, but i hope you enjoy reading anyway <3 based on the song ‚juno’ by sab!

warnings — kinda smutty?? jealous!oscar, making out, very suggestive, hints of angst, english isn’t my first language, not proofread

It really wasn’t your fault.

You decided to keep it casual as to not get him into any drama, so that people know his focus was keen on racing - becoming a world champion and whatnot - and also for your sake, because the hate, if you weren’t used to it, really could become unbearable, and the last thing Oscar wanted was for you to have to deal with any of that, you were just way too precious to him for that. So the decision was made. No strings attached.

Stupid, right? No strings attached is something to settle on before being all the way into it. Because at that point of your relationship, there was no way to keep it casual anymore. The only way was to take a few things that had been said two or three times too often back. To leave it all behind and really only do those things for ‚urgent needs‘ . No more spending the night or cooking together or meeting up without the friend group or sneaking away from said friend group just so he could finally rip the dress you had been teasing him with all night right off of you. But he had other plans, he seemed to just keep going with it. Telling you how much he missed you every time he was back from the long weekends, repeating the same three words over and over again as he makes his way down your thighs, kissing every clothed and unclothed spot he could reach from under you.

The first time it happened it was simply an accident, at least that’s what you told everyone. At least that’s what you told yourselves. But your touch and perfume still lingered even after a week, so the next time you saw each other at a birthday party of one of your mutual friends, Oscar couldn’t keep his hands off you either. Confessions of being attracted were spoken out loud and the only thing keeping you from taking it farther was nothing more than a mental holdback. You were scared of the public. He was scared to see you hurt because of that.

After a weekend during summer break spent together you asked him to finally decide on where to go on from this. He blurted out that he’s not in love, so there was no reason for things to get complicated. Your breath hitched. Casual hookups was what he said. Friends with benefits, you chuckled, seemingly angreeing with him as to not make this situation any weirder, even if it hurt just a tiny bit. But he was right. You had a different idea of a perfect life than he had. Racing was his passion, being in the spotlight was part of the sport, and you couldn’t even handle having to hold presentations in class because you hated being the center of attention. You two were just too different.

So yes. It is his fault! Because if he’s really, after all these lovey-dovey moment shared, still not in love — like you admittedly were — then he should stop acting like he did. Why would he get you flowers every few weeks? Why would he gift you a whole vacation with your best friend including hotel, trips and things a sane person wouldn’t even ask for for your birthday, and the rest of your friends would only get a normal birthday card and occasionally whatever small thing they had wished for? If you were really just casual, then why did he treat you as if none of this was ever just casual at all? Why did he treat you like his girlfriend if he so confidently stated that he’s not in love with you just months ago?

He couldn’t expect you not to want him to fall for you too if he was the one who made you fall for him in the first place. As if the “casual” sex wasn’t enough already, he just had to do the most romantic shit for you as to not let you get over him at all. He wanted to play with your head, he made it obvious. Too many mixed signs, too many actions done but too little words said. Lucky for you and for him, two can play the game.

If he was sooo sure he’s not in love with you, which he just had to be, maybe you just had to make him realize his loss if he ever lost you. You had to make sure he knew that you were desired also by men who weren’t him, and since it‘s his fault you fell for him in the first place, he should be the one who has to face he consequences of not loving you back.

In other words, a little jealousy clearly wouldn’t hurt him.

You were getting ready in the bathroom of your apartment together with your best friend, “juno“ by Sabrina Carpenter playing in the background while you gossiped about whatever came to mind — including Oscar and you. It was a secret to everybody else, but not to her. She was the one you cried to after Oscar told you he didn’t have feelings for you.

You finished up your makeup with some lipgloss, and once you were final,y content with your accessories and outfits, you made your way over to your friend’s, jack’s, birthday. Everybody was there, including Oscar. And Lando. His only ally and his biggest rival. If that didn’t make him crack, then nothing would, but you decided to try, at least. Lando and you got along alright already when you had only just met, and he was the first man to point out that Oscar and you aren’t just friends, right?

So when you suddenly put your hand on his arm, slowly rubbing up and down his biceps, he was confused at first, and then caught up on your quick nod in Oscar‘s direction while holding eye contact with him. Lando didn’t mean to do him any harm, but as much as he loved his teammate, he would never be one to turn down an opportunity to mess with him like this, especially not if he knew it would, at last, make Oscar snap so he didn‘t have to listen to his hopeless whining about his relationship with you being oh so complicated. Just ball up and confess, man.

It was innocent at first. Just simple touches, your hand on his chest for just a tiny second because you needed something to steady yourself on as your reached behind him to grab your drink from the small table the couch stood in front of, or his arm around your waist when you all stood next to each other to take a round of shots. Lando was certainly amused and your best friend was winking and giggling at you the whole night, seemingly loving your plan, because Oscar was definitely reacting.

His blood was boiling and he wanted to punch that smug look right off of Lando‘s face. How dare he touch you when he knew that Oscar, his own teammate, loved you?

Oscar thought it was better like this. Playing pretend instead of facing the truth, and he was pretty damn good at doing so. He was sure you believed him when he said that he doesn‘t want your relationship to include anything other than moments of lust, he thought it was easier that way. He thought it would make things less complicated, thought he could live his life without having to put you in any danger, live his life without needing you by his side every second of his damned life if he just put some boundaries. Surprise! It only made things worse, plus apparently, guys seemed to think you were available now, thought they could have you like only he can. And it made him fucking furious.

So when you stood up to pour yourself another drink in the kitchen, he followed, of course not before shooting the other driver for McLaren a death glare. Lando sighed and leanded back in his seat, happy to see your man finally making a real move. He hoped so, at least. Oscar closed the door after entering. It was only you two now.

“Fancy another beer?“ You asked calmly, but the feeling in your stomach was far from calm. This could end in complete rejection, maybe he could see right through your façade and thought you were childish for doing this? But how could you not?! Oscar himself made you do it with his mix of signs every damn time you saw each other!

He shook his head.

The tension between you was palpable as he watched your every move, back turned to him. You felt awkward, but tried to ignore it. The light was dim, and you could still feel the bass vibrating through the floor and the walls coming from the speakers in the living room. Was music this loud even allowed at this hour?

You finished pouring yourself some more champagne when you saw him walking over to you in the reflection of the glass cupboard in front of you. You sucked in a breath, not daring to say anything, feeling slightly hazy from the alcohol you‘ve drunken in the past few hours already. His cologne became starker as he stepped closer to you, eyes closed as you let the familiar smell of him take over you completely. You only opened them again once you realized he caged you between himself and the counter, pressing himself against your behind. He started softly kissing down your neck behind your ear, almost tickling you with how light his lips felt against your hot skin. You wanted this, you wanted him. But his touch wasn’t nearly enough, you wanted all of him, and not just his body. Every yet so little interaction you had during the evening left you with butterflies going crazy in your tummy, yet he never seemed affected, not until Lando came into view. Did he really only want your body and not more?

“What were you doing with him, y/n?”

Nothing but a moan left your mouth as he gently bit into your skin, sucking on your sweet spot as you subconsciously rubbed up against him. You didn’t even want to reply, you just wanted him to keep caressing your skin with his mouth. “Tell me what you were doing with Lando, huh, baby? What were you thinking?”

“Oscar I-“

“Keep talking or I’ll stop,” he whispered as he made his way down your back and then back up your shoulder, kissing and mouthing at every spot. Thankfully your best friend had convinced you to wear the backless top, you thought.

You huffed. This felt so humiliating, but you couldn’t keep going like this, not when he makes you feel like this and then leaves like nothing ever happened. You lived a lie and it was time to stop.

“I was trying to make you jealous so that you would finally stop and do something!”

Oscar’s furrowed his eyebrows and stopped in his tracks, hands still on you. What were you talking about The tension came crashing down onto your body once again, his doing not distracting you anymore. You seemed to want to have this conversation, and Oscar could easily put some of his lust away in moments like these. You didn’t get a reply, the cue for you to turn around and face him. You were still caged between him and the counter, his hands steady on either side of you now as he leaned down to look at you. you couldn’t focus like this, not with him so close to you and with the alcohol running through your body like blood. You looked up at him with doe eyes, prettily batting your lashes even if your mascara was slightly smudged already.

“Stop what? Talk to me, please. I didn’t like seeing you with him,” he looked concerned. Worried even, worried about what he might have done wrong. He wanted to be with you, keep you as his, so why would you want to stop being exactly that?

“Why don‘t you love me?“ You whispered, tears forming in your eyes. You hated it, but it was inevitable. The confrontation was overwhelming you anyway, and being under the influence managed to make it a lot worse. Your hands were all shaky and so was your every breath as you anticipated his reaction, expecting rejection but still hoping for more.

“I- What? Why would you think that?“

“Maybe because you literally said so?“

“Uhm, okay fair point. Listen y/n,“ he sighed, and you could practically hear your heartbeat throbbing inside your chest. He thought for a second, but didn‘t say a thing. Instead, he grabbed your face and kissed you like never before, he kissed you with more than just passion, he kissed you with love. his fingers wiped away a tear that had rolled down your face, kissing and holding you as gently as he could. “Don‘t cry on me, y/n, please don‘t,“ he begged as he now kissed down your cleavage, leaving lovebites on your collarbones. “Was just being stupid, didn‘t wanna hurt you baby, thought long distance is too hard,“ he said something, anything to make you understand that the only reason he didn’t confess was because he was scared of his life not being compatible with yours, and not because he didn’t love you.

You smiled into the kiss once he reached your lips again. You‘d have to talk about it more tomorrow morning after taking some aspirin, you knew, after all, that you‘d go back home with him. It wasn‘t enough to make it official, you weren‘t boyfriend and girlfriend, but you finally had the guarantee that he felt the same way, that he loved you just like you did him.

Oscar swore himself at that exact moment, when he felt you smiling while his lips were dancing against yours, that he would never make you feel so unloved again. It wasn’t his intention in the first place, but seeing your beautiful eyes filled with tears because of him made his heart shatter, and he never wants to see you like that again, not if he was the reason for your pain. And even though you did have to make him realize through making him jealous, you certainly didn’t have to make him fall in love with you.

Because he already was.

౨ৎ general taglist / sns taglist ::

@norrisdriver / @1655clean

[lowkeyremi]

𝐃𝐀𝐃 ?!

pairing: aizawa x fem!reader note: thanks to @violetraccoon04 and @hiqhkey for giving me the inspiration to write this!! Part 3 of dating the teacher series ! (Pt 1 and pt 2) summary: class 2a has always wondered if their stoic teacher has a partner… huh.. the more you know! (This is set post war so class 1a are now second years.) content: fluff, crack, teasing, just class a being sillies. wc: 1.5k

Your favorite people in the whole world are soon to leave for school, one a teacher one a student. You check over both of them. From what you can see Denki has his backpack, his training bag, his lunch (which he complains about packing because he wants to eat at the cafeteria every single day) and his hero gear.

Shota on the other has all of his lesson planning things, his eyepatch on his face, a protein shake, coffee, lots of coffee and his scarf around his neck.

You look at them expectantly, but before you could say anything Shota beats you to it, “you sure you’re okay taking Eri in today?”

“Babe, I promise you it’s no big deal. Her school isn’t far from my workplace.” His eyes soften and he gives you the kiss that he gives you every time he has to leave. Of course the romantic moment is ruined by your son, “could you guys swap saliva some other time? yuck.”

Both you and Shota turn to glare at the high schooler and he just smirks accordingly.

“I’ll see you Friday, sweet boy. Stay out of trouble. Sho, you’ll be back before midnight right? Or do you have to patrol?” He smiles at you which puts your mind at ease. Even though the war has been over for a couple of months now, you still feel paranoid watching your son and husband leave out into danger.

“I’m patrolling until 10:30 so I’m pretty sure I’ll be back before midnight.” You let out a sigh of relief.

U.A. has let up on their strict policy of students being in the dorms at all times, and has allowed them to visit their families on the weekend, which is why you get to see Denki every weekend before he has to return to the dorms for the week.

“Is your laundry clean?”

“Yes, mom.”

“You’ve turned in all your assignments, right?”

“Yesssss, mom.”

“And you still have allowance to buy food if you nee-”

“He’s got everything, darling. Try not to worry too much.” You kiss Shota again, tension leaving your body.

“Okay. I’ll see you guys later. I love you both, stay safe.”

“Love you too mom!”

“We’ll be safe, bye baby.”

Denki had stopped by his dorm before heading to his home room… which also happened to be his first period class… and the man teaching the class is his stepdad.

The young boy was told by both you and Aizawa that their marriage was no secret and he could tell his friends if he pleased.

And yes, he had planned to.. awhile ago, but he’s just embarrassed sometimes. Not by you! Or Aizawa. He already considers the man his father, it’s just, what would his friends think? He knows most will probably be kind about it considering Aizawa is their teacher.

But he’s still scared of being ridiculed for such a thing. He lets those thoughts disappear as soon as he walks through the classroom door.

The first thing he does is go and bother Shinso. He had been trying to make the boy his friend but he is very closed off and hard for even Denki to talk to.

They’ve made progress though, mainly because Aizawa talked about how he’s trained the boy a few times.

“Hey Shinsoooo, wanna get lunch together later? Today’s lunch is always the best!”

“Don’t you always bring your own lunch on mondays?” Denki smiles, “yeah but you could always give me a little bit of yours and I’ll trade you some of mine! My mom’ll never find out.”

“Yeah no, I’m good.”

“Come on man!!! Please!!!” Before Shinso can deny him again Mina makes her way over to Denki and places her hand on his shoulder.

“Denki! How was your weekend? Do anything fun?” The boy stops himself from saying that he and Aizawa went shopping together to find you a birthday gift.

“Nahhh you know me, video games for life!” Mina rolls her eyes playfully.

“Alright, you know the deal, in your seats.” Aizawa mumbles out to the class.

Nobody wastes time finding their seats.

“I know you guys would rather work together or something but I’m gonna be lecturing today.” A couple of groans and sighs leave the lips of various 2-A students. Aizawa’s posture straightens and his look is deadly. Everyone else straightens up, but Denki has to keep himself from laughing.

He can’t take Aizawa seriously when he makes such sickeningly sweet faces to you at home.

“Would you like to share what’s so funny, Kaminari?” Your last name had been Kaminari before you got married. You gave your son the option to keep your maiden name or go with Aizawa and he chose your maiden name. He said that he didn’t want to get married one day and not have his own last name, whatever that meant.

“Uh, no sir.” He responds straightening his face.

“Now, if any of you have a problem with me lecturing you can go out in the hall and read the whole textbook.” Nobody makes a sound and for good reason, that textbook is thicker than a dictionary.

“As I thought. Now onto the lecture.”

Denki had been falling asleep during the lecture so half way through, in his sleepy state he raises his hand, “Hey, dad?”

The blond feels the class’s eyes on him and gets scared that he’d accidentally exposed himself which he did but that’s not why his friends are staring. They just find the slip up funny, they don’t know Aizawa is really his stepdad.

“DID YOU JUST CALL HIM DAD? WHAT AN IDIOT.” Bakugo snorts loudly.

Denki’s face reddens and he covers it up in embarrassment.

“Looks like someone was takin’ a snooze.” Sero says with a chuckle.

“Oh come on guys, be nice. I’m sure we’ve all slipped up and called our teacher dad/mom before!” Uraraka says trying to calm down the laughter.

“Is it strange that I have never called a teacher mother or father before?” Todoroki asks suddenly feeling like an outcast. Midoriya tries to explain to him that he is in fact normal and not an outcast.

“Settle down. It was an honest mistake and I don’t blame him. I’m technically his father.” That gains the class’s attention.

Denki squeaks out a noise of embarrassment.

Aizawa immediately understands the situation his eyes widening a little in both shock and amusement, “you haven’t told them yet?”

Denki uncovers his face, “I was going to eventually…!”

“Tell us what?!” Kirishima asks excitedly.

“I am Denki’s stepfather. His mother and I are married.” It’s silent for a second but of course Mineta breaks the silence.

“Wait does that like mean you get good grades, cuz they bang each other?”

“THEY’RE MARRIED. M A R R I E D. NOT CASUAL!!!” Denki explains his face as red as a tomato.

“That still stands, your mom is married to your teacher, you can benefit from that!! Aizawa sensei, since we’re Denki’s friends can we get good grades too?!” Mina asks excitedly.

“That’s enough, nobody’s getting any special treatment. If anything Denki has to work 10x harder, because I’m around to watch him do his homework.” Half the class responds with “aw” or “aw man.”

“And mineta,” he stiffens at his name being called.

“I will not hesitate to send you out for inappropriate comments, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Pay up I was right!” Jiro of all people says.

“HUH?” Denki asks in shock.

“Well, we were betting on sensei’s relationship status. “Is he in a relationship or not?” was the question we’ve all been asking. Everyone was saying no, but I noticed that necklace he wears. It has a ring on it.” Jiro explains.

Sero and Bakugo both groan taking money out of their pockets. Uraraka holds out her hand too, they also owe her for being right.

Aizawa had always kept his necklace with his wedding ring tucked into his shirt so he had no idea how Jiro caught that.

“Oh crap that means I owe money too!! I made a bet saying he was married to present mic!” Mina sighs digging in her bag for her clutch purse.

“I prefer my wife over Mic any day.” Aizawa confirms. (In another life he would so marry him.)

“You guys don’t think it’s weird? That like- he’s my stepdad?”

“Uh, not really. I mean the only thing that matters is that you and your mom are happy.”

Denki realizes then and there he had no reason to be scared, his friends didn’t seem to mind all that much that Aizawa was his stepdad.

But from time to time when he hung out with them one would ask, “you think you can get on Aizawa sensei’s good side so _________”

This was so silly and fun to write. I had a sudden burst of inspiration 🫶🏾

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[popponn]

idk if you accept requests but i badly want to read the blue lock boys with the orange peel theory going around on tiktok 🥹

notes: anon, i was in a slump and then you come with this, please know i cant get it out of my mine for 2 whole nights. so, please have this, i hope u will enjoy it & your fave is there. also shoutout to @doobea for helping me with rin & barou esp <3 aso for standing my yappings. warning: none, post canon au in mind, reader's gender unspecified.

character: isagi, kaiser, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin, sae, barou + bonus

isagi

sweet boy will do it with a smile. is not the tidiest but you can now eat your orange while sharing with him. has a vibe that he is sort of used to doing this somehow. a total win still. if you do the same for him he will get flustered. also asking this is one of the quickest ways to get mr. egoist switches to mr. sweetheart boyfriend.

“Eh, why are peeling one too? I already… for me…?…I, uh—I see. Thanks… I—I am… give me a second.”

kaiser

you are the one who will peel for him—unless you throw a fuss and give him a silent treatment because this guy's pride is no joke. he can, he just doesn't want to. but to appease you and gain back his rightful spoiling, he will. afterward, at least, he learns his lesson and when you are about to peel one yourself, will take it and peel it beautifully for you like a second nature.

“…the fuck are you staring at? Just take it. You are about to eat it anyway, right? Then what's the big deal?”

bachira

yes, he will no question asked but is it worth it. probably will make a mess out of his energy. you will be laughing along with him somehow though so it is worth it. having the sunshine doing anything in front of you is a guaranteed smile-inducing routine. as for the orange, please do switch to other alternatives, for example: kisses, as suggested by him.

“Isn't this better than orange? Huum, huum! More healthy, sweeter too, right? Another one?”

chigiri

depending on his mood, you will either get a very cute orange peel or a half-peeled orange (at best) you have to finish peeling yourself. on the former, you get a smug bf who will feed you like it's a pocky stick. on the latter, you better be the one feeding him while hugging and cuddling him. multitask somehow. also, give him kisses because he is called a ‘princess’ for a reason.

“Ah, being in your arms being fed like this… yeah, yeah. I know don't worry. I will repay the favor.”

nagi

realistically, you will be the one peeling it for him and forcing him to eat one. because why would he even touch one? he is too lazy for that, nothing personal. but, let's say he really, really loves you: he still won't, he will just give you orange-flavored jelly in replacement. it does come from a place of love though, he genuinely thinks it's less troublesome to eat and, hence: better.

“Eating that is troublesome. It taste the same too. We can also do it while kissing. Mouth to mouth. Better right?”

reo

normally, will get a servant to peel it for you and him. though: can he do it? will he do it if it must be him? no question asked, absolutely will, all while chatting and staring at you with so much love. totally mr. k-drama male lead. you and your premium orange are in good hands.

“Oh, man, you are sometimes really …huh? Nah, I mean, I like doing this. It's just now I feel like I have to do this every time, so… yeah.”

rin

the first time, he will click his tongue and mess up. he will crush the orange. better never speak of it again, just know he loves you wholly despite everything. then a week passes and suddenly you will get a professional competitive orange peeler part-timer. without asking. just eat your orange. unless you are sick of it or it makes you actually sick.

“Did the orange taste good? … good. Nothing. You just look… nevermind. Do you want another one?”

sae

will he or will you. realistically, no? there are two possible reasons: 1) he can't. his whole stat is in soccer. 2) “you can't?” aka is it worth it getting judged by him. in case #2 though, just act cute and aim for his soft spot for you, he will fold and peel it with you pressed to his arm. he will grumble or glare but that's just itoshi-esque tsundere.

“You can't do something like this yourself? This will be the only time I’m doing this… Also who told you to move away?”

barou

our king. will peel the skin and the white fiber for you. tidy peels and if you know your way around his heart—you do just smile or blink and he is gone—he will also feed you. 10/10 execution no notes. probably will do this in kotatsu, dinner tables, and other domestic settings that are not bed while being a tsundere.

“I’m doing this just so you don't make a mess, got it? Also, scoot closer, your leg is kicking me—what do you mean I’m lying?!”

bonus

kunigami will, both before and after wc because you are his world. the difference would be in his expression only and there is that because his love for you would never change. shidou will but genuinely, please just peel it yourself. aiku will, not without teasing you though. gagamaru will either will or teach you how to eat the skin too. zantetsu wants to do it, but it will be really messy so please just don't. hiori will do it like a sweet boy, but if he is in his sadistic mood he will tease you for a bit before finally feeding you.

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 1: I'LL SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist f1 masterlist | ao3 | requests or let's talk!

rb sebastian vettel x gf!reader

word count: 4095

summary: seb's gf finds out she's pregnant, and she decides that hiding her pregnancy is the best she could do due to seb's career

warnings: pregnancy, mentions of cheating, curse words, angst, fighting. set on may 2013. for a bit of background: reader and seb have been friends since they were literal babies, but growing up their feelings changed and started dating on 2006.

a/n: this is actually the first chapter of the very first series, Infinity, i posted here! i had to cancel it because i had some problems with wattpad people telling me through indirects i copied their work and i got very, very unmotivated with this story i absolutely love (when actually this was a draft I had of a tom holland fic back in 2017 lol), but i'd love to post the following parts if you like this one! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

You pulled the flush and got up, being careful not to get dizzy. You took some paper and wiped the corners of your mouth to remove any possible traces of vomit. You headed to the sink automatically, quickly pulling out the toothbrush you’ve gotten used to carrying since nausea became part of your daily routine. You really tried to get rid of the acidity in your throat and the bad taste in your mouth, but as you expected, and knowing you've been experiencing this more times than you'd like in the past month and a half, it was impossible.

"Y/N, are you still there? Are you okay?" Britta's voice, accompanied by a few knocks on the door, snapped you out of your trance. You startled and forced yourself to answer, even though it was the last thing you feel like doing.

"Yes, I’m coming. Just a sec!"

"Don’t take too long," she replied. "Not that I don’t want you to take your time, but Seb is worried."

Panic-stricken, you suppressed a laugh that almost escaped.

If only he knew what you were about to do…

"Don’t worry, I’ll be right out," you answered.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, contemplating your own reflection longer than you’d like. Minutes passed, and you almost completely lost track of time, aware that you needed to put an end to the intrusive thought that was telling you that what you were about to do was, wrong but inevitably the best thing.

You were going to break away from everything you’ve wanted since you were a child just because things hadn't turned out "right." Seb was at the peak of his professional career, constantly surpassing himself in every race, making history, while you remained stuck in your hometown, working at a bar, dealing with drunks and immature kids pretending to be adults daily, because you didn’t have the luck, or perhaps the financial means, to study what you had dreamed of since you were a child who just wanted to make music.

You leaned on the sink, feeling the cold starting to penetrate your body. A great tremor shook you, and it became increasingly difficult to stay on your feet. Your eyes filled with tears as you confronted the reality of what you were about to do, of the decision you'd made.

Since your boyfriend began not only achieving his dreams but making a name for himself, you thought you didn’t deserve him because you were heading in the opposite direction. Now that you’ve gotten pregnant by him, possibly because the birth control pills you were taking failed for some unknown reason, you felt like this even more.

Despite the love you still felt and possibly always will feel for Sebastian, since you took the pregnancy test with Hanna at one of the most secluded malls in Heppenheim, you knew that letting him know he was going to be a father was never part of your plans.

"Come on, Y/N…" you told yourself, still staring at your reflection. "This is for Seb. You're doing this for him and his career."

You took a deep breath a couple more times, feeling the knot in your throat choking you. You looked at the girl full of insecurities you were one more time. Her eyes reflected doubt and, above all, fear, and you sadly sensed that it will continue to be this way from now on.

Trying to control yourself, you slowly opened the bathroom door, as if wanting to torture yourself. Britta was sitting in one of the chairs, reviewing something in a notebook until you closed the door a bit harder than you meant to.

"Are you really okay?" she asked again, giving you an uncertain look. "I've been hearing you vomit for several weeks now. Don’t you think you should go to the doctor?"

The knot in your throat seemed to tighten even more. See a doctor… Of course you’d been to the doctor! Four weeks and, as of today, four days pregnant was the answer, but no one beyond your parents and your best friend could know.

"Yes, I’m fine," you replied quickly, trying to fake your answer as best as you could. "Don’t worry. It’s probably just a bit of stress," you added, praying she believed you. "I haven't had time to see a doctor, but I assure you, with all my heart, that everything is fine."

And that's why you're leaving the love of your life today.

Britta seemed to hesitate for a moment. Her lips remained slightly open, as if she wanted to say something. Her look gave you the feeling that she didn't quite believe what you were saying.

"Whatever you say, Y/N," she finally said, standing up from her seat. "But seriously, if you need to talk or anything, I’m here for you."

"I know."

"Well, seeing that you're as calm as a lake, we’d better hurry up," she told you. "The last free practice session is about to start, and Seb is probably worried why we haven’t come back yet."

You prepared to leave the room with her. You were more than sure to go with her, but as you were almost out the room, you realize it was now or never.

You stopped before going from the driver’s room to the garage, watching Britta hurry down the stairs, probably aware that you were running late even though there were still about forty-five minutes before the session started.

"Wait, Britta. Just a sec!"

You were convinced your shout from the top of the stairs was heard by more people than you’d like. You wished you could turn invisible as you saw some eyes on you, including Britta’s, which made it hard to speak, and not to mention the variety of emotions you were feeling inside you.

You needed to calm down and act a bit better, or everything you’d been mulling over will end up falling apart.

"I’d like to talk to Seb… alone," you finally said.

"Y/N Y/L/N," she said your name much more seriously now. "You’ve told me that everything is fine, but… are you sure it really is? Are you sure nothing’s wrong?"

No, everything is wrong, and yes, more things are happening than I’d like.

You knew you could trust Britta completely. You were sure that if you told her the news before you did to Seb, she wouldn’t say anything, at least not right away. You wanted to do it; in fact, you’d love to do it because she was like a second mother to you, but you knew you couldn't because, once you left, there’s a really high chance she might end up telling him everything in a moment of weakness.

"Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s nothing serious, don’t worry," you replied with a sigh, trying to console the PR woman and yourself. "I just need to talk to him about… well, a minor issue."

"Of course. Go get him, I’ll wait here. He’s probably talking to Rocky or Horner about who knows what. He hasn’t gone far, especially considering how eager he was to see you."

"Can you get him for me?" you let it out casually.

You ignored her last comment because now, your nerves were eating you alive. Britta seemed to notice your anxiety, so you were grateful she ignored it and acted as if nothing is wrong.

You sighed in relief when you saw her nod, and you couldn't stop thanking her out loud for what she just did for you.

"Lie down on the physio’s couch and try to rest a bit, you look a bit pale," she insisted. Reluctantly, and after repeating it a couple more times, you finally listened to her. "Seb will be here soon. You know he’ll drop everything when it comes to you."

And it was true. Once she left, you remained lying down, drawing small shapes on your stomach with your index finger. As you whispered things to what would supposedly be your child, a whirlwind of varied thoughts flooded your mind.

A small pressure settled in your chest as you became aware that the idea of breaking up with Sebastian was becoming a reality. You didn't want to face it and largely refused to, but you knew that for both of you, especially him, it was actually the best.

Hiding the truth from the guy you’d loved longer than you’d like to admit is exactly the opposite of what you should do, but because he was the most important person in your life, and you knew him almost as well as yourself, you knew he'd have time to play moms and dads in real life.

This year, the only thing he should focus on was winning his fourth Formula 1 World Championship, not learning how to change diapers or feed a baby.

Your thoughts vanished when the door opened abruptly, startling you. Seb appeared with his suit hanging at his waist, hair completely tousled, and a face revealing worry matching the situation you haven’t told him about yet.

"Sunshine! Britta told me you’re not well. What happened? Do you want to go to the doctor? I don’t care about missing the free practice: you’re the most important thing."

The German quickly took your cheeks in his hands. You hadn’t even sat up, and he was already trying to warm your face with his palms, moving it from side to side and examining you as if he was a doctor with the solution to your problems.

"I’m fine, love, relax," you said, breaking free from his grip.

"I know you better than I’d like, Y/N. You’re pale," he pointed out. "You rarely get pale. The last time I saw you like this was when the police chased us after they caught you doing an illegal concert in the school square."

Your anxiety grew more at his perception. You couldn't hide the lie you concocted with Hanna for much longer.

"Seb, really, I’m fine," you insisted, swallowing hard as you tried to find the right words.

He didn't seem to agree with your answer once again, and he didn't seem willing to let it go easily.

For a moment, you were tempted to tell him the truth, especially when you noticed his eyes fixed on you, not intending to look away until he found out what you really wanted to say… As if he wants to know that he was going to be a father next January if your gynecologist’s calculations and the latest technology were correct.

You mustered the courage to look him in the eyes. His concern overwhelmed you completely. When he made a move to hug you and you fell into his arms, you knew you couldn't keep dodging the truth.

"Seb…" you started to say, slowly pulling away from him, "the truth is that... well, there's something wrong."

He clenched his jaw and got very serious.

"Tell me, Y/N. Whatever it is, you know you can tell me."

"I know, love. I want to tell you everything, but…" you began calmly, your voice breaking. "This is different, and it’s going to be a bit difficult."

"What do you mean by different and difficult? Y/N, what’s going on?"

Your hands fidgeted nervously as you tried to find the best way to cause him the least harm possible. You noticed that the German's nervous and worried tone had dissipated, and now it was anger that seemed to be consuming him.

"I want to tell you, but I don’t know how to do it without hurting you," you admitted in a whisper.

There it was, you had let it slip.

You didn’t know what else to say, so you decided to wait for Sebastian’s response. Anguish had taken hold of him, and you knew he was waiting for your words as much as you were waiting for his.

His behavior wasn’t helping you; on the contrary, the feeling of guilt was consuming you, as you had foreseen, but there was no turning back now.

It was impossible for you to even think coherently enough to say something that made sense.

You watched as your boyfriend’s gaze turned into pure pain, a pleading search for answers that you didn’t dare to give him.

"Seb…" you spoke again, struggling to maintain your composure and reaching for his hand at the same time. "I need you to listen to me, please."

"I just want you to tell me the truth, Y/N," he called you by your full name. That was the indicator that things weren’t going well and wouldn’t be again. "Whatever it is, I’ll be able to deal with it."

"I don’t want us to be together anymore," you declared. "I’m not in love with you anymore. I haven’t been for about a month or so."

The silence that flooded the room after your false confession was too uncomfortable. His eyes filled with tears; yours did too, but for a different reason than his.

He thought you had stopped loving him when, in fact, you loved him more than ever, especially now.

"Why are you telling me this? Why, Y/N?" he wanted to know. "I thought we were great… I really believed we were better than ever."

"I don’t know, Seb," you murmured between sobs, trying to hide your face so he wouldn’t see how truly affected you were. "There are… there are couples that stop loving each other, and that’s what I think has happened with me. With us."

"What can I do to make you fall in love with me again? I can’t lose you. I can’t lose the sunshine of my life, not when we promised each other a life together."

"You can’t do anything, Seb, and I’m really sorry," you falsely admitted with sadness, trying not to succumb to his desperate plea.

"Sometimes things stop being what they were in the beginning, and, well… ours is no longer what it used to be."

"Of course, it’s not what it used to be! Everything was getting better until you decided to drop this on me, Y/N!" Sebastian yelled at you.

"I was even going to ask you if you wanted us to get…"

"And that’s why I feel it’s better if we move on, but each on our own path!" you interrupted with another shout.

It’s not real, Y/N. Everything you’re saying is a lie.

You inhaled and exhaled more times than you would have liked, but it felt necessary. This charade to try to make Seb’s life a little better was not only costing you your relationship but also your mental health in the long run.

"Is there someone else, Y/N?"

Vettel's voice denoted anger. Rage consumed him at the possibility that there was an answer he didn’t want to hear. His fists, clenched tightly and turning his knuckles white, were proof of it.

"No, not exactly."

And once again, the camouflaged truth.

"What are you saying?" he spat at you, getting closer and closer, consumed by anguish.

"I mean not exactly, but… yes. There is someone else, Seb," you admitted.

The shouts, full of reproaches, insults, and slurs, flooded the room.

You tried to turn a deaf ear. You thought this was all part of a performance and tried to convince yourself that in the future, everything would be fine when you knew it would be the opposite.

"How could you do this to me, Y/N?! How could you cheat on me after almost seven fucking years together?!" Sebastian shouted, taking out his anger on a vase on his desk, throwing it to the ground, spilling the water and the flowers he had given you just a day ago.

"We’ve been through so many things together. We’ve grown up together and fulfilled our dreams together, and now you’re leaving me for some guy you must have slept with on a whim?!"

"Do you think this is easy for me, Sebastian?" you replied, your words true for once. "Stop lying, okay? The only person who has fulfilled their dreams here is you," you said, showing your disagreement on that topic that you knew hurt you and that he had mentioned to hurt you. "While you’ve been living your life as a driver and being the center of attention, I’ve kept working in the same disgusting bar full of creepy old men I’ve been working at since I finished high school," you shouted, furious. You knew this kind of stress wasn’t good for the baby, but right now you didn’t care. "I’ve been saving as much as I could to build a prosperous future even though my salary was a pittance, composing songs and singing them with the hope that they’ll reach someone someday and not be forgotten."

"I’ve told you a million times that you don’t need to work in that fucking bar full of drunk old men who fuck you with their eyes to have a good life," he protested, now much calmer. "With what they pay me we can live comfortably. It's more than enough for both of us."

"I know," you responded calmly, though you were on the verge of an anxiety attack, "but I also know that I can achieve things on my own without anyone’s help."

The blonde let out an ironic laugh. Immediately, he crossed his arms, lifted his head, and looked at you.

"You’ve always been too stubborn, Y/N. Now I see what your future expectations are. After all, I understand: if you never got into the Berlin Art Academy on your own, and you’re still working at the same place after so long…"

You stood still, not knowing what to say or do because you knew exactly what he meant with every word that came out of his mouth. It felt like your feet were cemented to the ground; his words continuously hitting you, wanting to hurt you more and more.

"How dare you to say that to me?"

If you were already shaken and almost broken after this whole conversation, now you were completely sunk. Seeing your reaction, tears streaming down your cheeks non-stop, he seemed to regret it.

Quickly, he approached you, opening his arms intending for you to bury yourself in them. You, as stubborn as he said you were, refused not only the hug but any physical and non-physical contact he wanted to have with you.

"Y/N, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to say that," yes, that was clear, but it had already been said, and the damage was done. "I was wrong. Please forgive me."

No matter how much he kept talking, trying to apologize and make amends, there was nothing else to do.

Without saying anything else, you began to gather all your belongings from the driver’s room of who could now be considered your ex-boyfriend. You didn’t want to do it; you didn’t want to start the zero-contact phase with the boy you had loved since you were ten years old, the one who had loved you like no one ever had before and like no one ever would.

You were saying goodbye to the father of your child to venture into raising her alone so he could pursue his dream in peace and achieve all the successes he so longed for.

“What are you doing, Y/N?”

“Packing. I’m leaving.”

Your eyes were fixed on the floor, your hands fumbling with the few belongings left to pack in the small backpack you usually took to the paddock. Now, you would have to return to your hotel room and quickly pack everything into the suitcase, rush to the airport, and pray you didn’t miss the flight.

“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” the blonde frowned, incredulous. “It’s Friday, Y/N, we have the whole weekend ahead of us.”

“Well, from now on, you’ll have all the weekends to yourself,” you shook your head, unable to bear his comments trying to make you stay. “From now on, you won’t have me here on weekends, nor in your life. I’m leaving your life, and I’m not coming back,” you repeated, emphasizing the finality of your words.

Vettel was speechless at your declaration. He kept shaking his head, approaching you, trying to take your belongings, but you stopped him.

No matter how much you wanted to, you weren’t going to stay.

“What do you mean by ‘leaving my life and not coming back’?”

“It means I’m going back to Heppenheim, Sebastian,” you turned to him, trying to maintain composure. “I’m going back, you’ll also end up going back even though we live… you live in Switzerland,” you immediately corrected yourself, “but I hope we never see each other again.”

The firmness behind your words scared you. Everything was a lie that, as the conversation progressed, had grown until you doubted what was real and what wasn’t.

“I really hope you achieve everything you are working hard for,” you continued, insisting to yourself not to break down right there. “I hope you win the championship this year and get the four consecutive ones you’ve wanted for. You, more than anyone, deserve all of it, and I know you’re capable of that and much more.”

You said nothing more because you had stopped being strong. You left, without looking back, the room where you had spent much more time than imaginable, and one of the many places that made up the story starring Sebastian Vettel and you.

You carefully descended the stairs. You walked with a false sense of security through the RedBull garage, dodging any questions about why you were crying, where you were going, and if you had argued with the team’s golden boy, including the endless questions from Britta Roeske that you were trying to ignore at all costs.

You felt curious eyes following you wherever you went, but you didn’t care in the slightest. It was all done.

Now, it was just you and the little pea, or whatever size the baby was.

“Y/N, wait!”

Sebastian’s desperate shouts echoed behind you, getting closer.

You stopped dead, clutching the only strap of the backpack hanging over your shoulder. You slowly turned toward the direction the voices seemed to be coming from and saw the driver running to you, almost choking, as he wiped tears from his cheeks and even those still falling from his eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

His voice was choked, and his hands acted on their own. Still, it didn’t stop him from taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that unleashed a whirlwind of emotions, where you tasted each other’s tears as you had done many times in your relationship. Where you silently said millions of I love yous that only you and he knew perfectly.

“Please, don’t go, sunshine,” the German expressed. “Whatever it is, we can work on it, but please, don’t let us end.”

“I love you too, Seb, but there’s someone else.”

You finally confessed… not in the most ideal way, but in the right one, especially considering what your goal was after all this trail of lies.

“There’s a new person in my life, and I’m afraid to say that no matter how much I love you, I love them more than I love you, and I always will,” you continued, knowing that every word you were saying about your baby was true. “I love you, Sebastian Vettel, and I’ll never stop loving you, but that person is my main priority right now.”

“Have you been unfaithful?”

Sometimes silence is worth more than a thousand words. In this case, it was the exact opposite.

You stood in front of him for a few seconds, debating internally whether to answer or leave as calmly as possible, without attracting more attention than you already had. You decided on the latter because you couldn’t speak, and the tears wouldn’t let you see clearly; not to mention your judgment was so clouded that you couldn’t think clearly about the next step to end this nightmare.

You finally directed one last look at Seb; whispered that you loved him and always would, even though it was over between you.

All it took was for you to lower your head, turn around, and continue walking, fighting not to look back, to realize that you had made the biggest mistake of your life and would never, for anything in the world, be able to forgive yourself.

And you knew perfectly well that Seb wouldn’t either.

[serpentandlily]

Untouchable VIII - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst angst angst

a/n: Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to update this story. I got major writer's block for it :(( This chapter is short but I wanted to get something out to you guys. We're almost at the end though! One more part after this and then an epilogue <3 Thank you guys for all the kind words/support! I don't have a lot of free time so I'm shit at replying to your comments/asks but I promise I read them all and they make me so happy! Hope you enjoy!

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part VIII

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You stumbled backwards, away from the evil sorcerer who was hovering above the lake. You frantically looked at Cedric. “Please, Cedric, what is this?”

He didn’t even look your way. You kept stumbling back until you knocked into the hard chest of one of the guards. He grabbed you by the upper arms, locking you in place despite your attempts to wiggle free.

“I brought you the girl,” Cedric said to Koschei. “Now it’s time to uphold your part of the deal.”

You twisted to look up at the guard. “Deal? What deal is he talking about?”

But the guard ignored you too. 

Koschei waved a dismissive hand at Cedric, his eyes still lingering on you as if you were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Yes, yes. You will have my support to overthrow your father."

"I need more than just your word," Cedric grumbled. "I'm not handing over the girl until you make a bargain with me." 

Koschei laughed under his breath. "You wish to make a bargain with me?" 

While the sorcerer's attention was elsewhere, you realized this might be your one and only chance to break free. 

You threw your cuffed arms up around the head of the guard holding you in place and bucked forward as hard as you could, effectively tossing him over you and onto the muddy ground. A move Azriel had taught you once. 

You ignored the shouts and yells as you darted off towards the wooded area that surrounded the lake. You couldn't winnow away, not while the faebane handcuffs were still on you. But maybe you could run and hide, buying yourself some time to think of an actual plan to escape. 

You darted into the trees, forcing yourself to run as fast as you could. The air was cold, making it hard to breathe but you pushed yourself forward. You could hear the pounding of feet running behind you. You chanced a glance over your shoulder to see the three guards chasing you but no Cedric or Koschei. 

One of the guards winnowed into the clearing in front of you, causing you to scream as you ran straight into him, knocking both of you on the ground. You rolled off him before he could grab you and winnow you away, pushing yourself to your feet. The guard snarled, getting off the ground faster than you considering his hands were free. 

"Don't you run," he growled at you. 

You took a step back. Another.

Rhysand! Help!

You screamed and screamed for your brother in your head, even though you knew he wouldn't be able to hear you from this distance. You were fucked. 

"My brother will come for you if you don't let me go," you hissed at the guards, keeping out of their reach. They were circling you like they were predators who had just found dinner. 

One of the guards scoffed. "With Koschei on our side, your brother won't be able to do anything to us."

"Koschei is offering his support to Cedric to kill the King," you shouted back. "Not to help Vallahan fight against the Night Court and its allies once my brother has realized what you've done!" 

That seemed to make the guards pause for a second, the three of them exchanging glances as if now just realizing how stupid the Prince's plan was. Mor knew you were going to visit Cedric. That's where they'd look for you first once they didn't hear from you. And you knew your brother would rain hellfire down on the Prince's territory to get you back. 

Suddenly a loud noise cracked in the air like two boulders smashing against each other, causing the ground to rumble. You fell, your legs collapsing, as three people winnowed into the clearing. You let out a cry of relief. Your brother stood in his fighting leathers, looking ready to murder with Cassian by his side. But it was Azriel who made you falter.

You had never seen him look as angry as he did now—it almost spiked fear in you despite knowing none of it was directed in your way. He looked feral, unhinged. 

The three guards around you were misted by your brother before you could even blink. Their blood rained down on you, still slightly warm. You gagged, rolling over and trying to push yourself to your feet.

“Y/N!”

You heard your brother shout but his warning came too late. 

You felt someone grab you by your hair, lifting you off the floor. You let out a cry of pain, your cuffed hands rising to grab the attacker by their wrist to get some of the pressure off your scalp. You were turned forward to face your brother and the two Illyrians just as the cold metal of a dagger was placed against your throat.

“Don’t move,” Cedric ordered and you realized it was him who had you in his grasp. 

“Get your hands off of her,” Azriel growled. It was dark and full of primal rage. You knew Cedric felt it by the way his body shuddered in response but he held his ground. 

“I don’t think so, shadowsinger,” Cedric hissed.

Azriel’s shadows poised around him like venomous snakes ready to attack. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your nerves on fire. But still, the pain of seeing Azriel fought its way through despite the dire circumstances. The image of him and Elain together was enough to almost fold you into Cedric’s embrace. 

Perhaps death would be a mercy compared to the anguish building in your chest. 

You focused on your brother instead. His violet eyes were hardened with rage, his entire body tense. “Let my sister go, you bastard, and I’ll consider making your death swift and painless.”

Cedric chuckled, his hand in your hair tightening causing you to whimper at the sharp pain. Azriel took a step forward at the noise but came to a halt, his eyes drifting to the area above your head. 

You felt it then, that dark presence. The foreboding. You knew Koshcei was in the clearing now. Could feel his horrid magic in the air. This was a powerful death god sorcerer and despite your brother being the most powerful High Lord, he was no match with a God. None of them would be. 

“Kill them,” Cedric demanded as he too realized Koschei was here.

But the death god did no such thing. Instead, you felt his darkness wrap around you, encompassing you into its hold. You let out a cry of fear, calling out for your brother. 

“The girl belongs to me now,” Koschei said. “Leave and never return or I will do more than just keep her as a little pet.”

“Why do you want her?” Rhysand switched into his diplomatic role, realizing a fight would not be won here today. “Whatever you need her for, I’m certain I can do it all the same. Better, even.” 

He was…He was offering himself over to the sorcerer in place of you?

“No, Rhys,” you cried out. “Just go!”

But you were ignored. 

“Unfortunately,” Koschei drawled. “I do not have a taste for males otherwise I would take you up on your offer. But your sister will do just fine. There is nothing you can give me for her. I don’t think you even realized what a prize she was—what sort of power she holds.” 

“Anything,” Rhys begged. “Please, I will give you anything. You want my armies, you can have them. You want my court, take it! Just give her back. Please.”  

You couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. Rhys would never give up his power, would never give away his court and his people. But here he was, offering up all he had for you. You had caused this. You had made the mistake of running away to Cedric. This was all your fault.

“Get him out of here!” you shouted to Cassian and Azriel. 

All you could think about was your brother’s lovesick bargain with Feyre, of his death leading to hers, of Nyx left with no parents. No…Rhys needed to get out of here before things got worse. You tried to convey your thoughts to the other two Illyrians with a single look. Cassian gave you a dip of the head in understanding, evidently having the same thoughts.

Azriel wouldn’t look at you, his rage filled eyes focused on the sorcerer that held you. 

“Anything,” Rhys pleaded again, surging forward. But Cassian gripped him by the shoulders, holding him back. “I’ll give you anything.”

Your eyes darted between the three of them. At Cassian’s look of despair and uncertainty, Rhy’s pleading face and Azriel….Azriel who was shrouded in his shadows, who circled him in a frenzy—his eyes darkened, his lips twisted in a snarl. He took another step forward. 

“Let her go,” he growled. You swore the birds in the clearing took off fluttering, as if they knew the sort of darkness that was coming. But Koschei let out a small noise of understanding before he chuckled—an awful noise. 

“What an interesting turn of events,” Koschei purred, his grip on you tightening. 

“Kill them,” Cedric hissed, slight panic in his eyes. If Koschei left him behind, you knew your brother would tear him to pieces. 

Koschei chuckled again, as if realizing the same thing. In the end, he would get what he wanted without having to follow through on his half of the bargain, not if Cedric was dead. 

“Say goodbye to your brother,” Koschei laughed in your ear. “And your lover and friend. You’ll never see them again.” 

“I’m sorry, Rhys,” you cried. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

Rhys fell to his knees, Cassian still holding him back with his lips pressed in a thin line. You felt Koschei’s shadows wrapping you up, spreading up your legs. Time was running out. Azriel stepped closer with another growl.

“I will kill you for this,” he promised, his eyes shifting from Cedric to the sorcerer. “Let her go!”

Your voice caught in your throat. All the words you wished to say to him with it. You loved him, still, even after knowing these past few months had all been a lie. Your heart was broken, stomped on, discarded by the only one you had ever given it to—but you loved him. You always would. 

He finally looked at you, his hazel eyes so full of rage but you saw it then, the fear. 

“Take me,” Azriel shouted. “Take me instead!”

Koschei laughed again. “Oh, but it is much more fun this way, shadowsinger.” 

His shadows spread over your torso, up your neck, nearly choking you. Tears ran down your face; you were gasping for air. You took one more look at Azriel. One more look at the male you loved with all your heart. One last look because you knew you’d never see him again.

Azriel met your gaze—fear and anguish written all over his face. And just as the shadows began to darken your vision, something snapped into place. Something gold and bright. A thread that extended from your chest and speared right into the shadowsinger. A mating bond. 

Azriel’s grip his chest, his eyes wide, as he stumbled back a step. You watched him realize it at the same time as you. Something burned on your hip and you realized you were feeling Azriel’s bargain tattoo dissipating. He screamed your name as Koschei laughed one more time, swallowing you in his shadows.

Azriel’s pained roar shook the trees of the forest around them and echoed all the way to the small cabin on the lake, where you were thrown to the hard flooring, still shackled and trembling. 

Koschei stood over you, his face a painted picture of glee and lust. He tsked, circling around your weeping form. Your thoughts were filled with Azriel. With your mate. You could feel his horror, his rage, his anguish, all through the bond. 

“Did you know,” Koschei purred, “that Cedric and his family are quite exceptional at illusions? The magic runs in their family.”

You were crying, panting—barely able to hear his words. 

“No, I suppose you didn’t,” Koschei laughed. “Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear. You fell for Cedric’s tricks and now you’re here. You’ll never see your mate again.”

Those images of you walking in on your mate with that little fawn were never real, my dear.

You hunched over, falling limp against the floor as sobs racked your body. You had lost everything, everything, tricked by that stupid Prince. You couldn’t breath, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything except the crushing weight of your despair.

 And all you could hear were those final words. 

Over and over and over again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

You’ll never see your mate again.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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[auras-moonstone]

Hi, I love your work so much!! How about some hockey player!ethan and figure skater!reader? Maybe some enemies to lovers? Have a great day<3

everything has changed — ethan landry

word count: 2,150

pairing: hockey player!ethan landry x figure skater!fem!reader

summary: as punishment for his suspension, ethan is forced to become y/n's skate partner for a few weeks

Y/N AND ETHAN STOOD STILL INSIDE THE OFFICE AS THE INFORMATION SINKED INTO THEIR BRAINS. Their coaches looked at each other, wanting to ran off the room as to not deal with the eventual fury that would come from the teenagers that everyone knew despised each other.

"No fucking way!" Y/N finally exclaimed, harshly, as Ethan said at the same time, "I'd rather tore my ACL."

The boy's sentence earned him a glare from his coach. "Don't even joke about it, Landry."

"Y/N, it’s the only option. Unless you have someone else in mind who can replace James."

The girl’s shoulders slumped—she didn't, and as much as she didn't like Ethan, he was kind of perfect for the part. He skated flawlessly and he lifted weights twice as heavy as the girl, so he would have no problem lifting her for the tricks. But there was this tiny detail—Ethan Landry was the most infuriating, annoying and self-centered guy in the whole university. And now she needed him, which made him even more frustrating.

Y/N's skating partner broke his arm and the competition was five weeks away, and if she wanted to compete, she had to push her hatred aside for a few weeks.

"And I wasn't asking you, Landry. It is an order. Consider it your punishment, learn to be professional." his coach said in a determined tone.

Ethan sighed and covered his face with his hands. He had been suspended from hockey for three games after beating the opposite team's defense player almost into oblivion. The ice had been tainted scarlet and his knuckles still hurt, even he knew he had crossed a line. But after the player said the nastiest of things about his family, he couldn't think straight. And here he was now, forced to become a figure skater for three weeks with the girl he loathed the most in the world.

"After you, my love." Ethan said in a sour voice, holding the door of the office open for her. He had a smile so false that Y/N was tempted to slap it off his unfairly pretty face. He loved pushing her buttons, so when he saw her face of annoyance he wanted to infuriate her even more. Y/N rolled her eyes and walked out the room, with the tall boy on her tail. "Wow, no ‘Thank you, Ethan! You're a real gentleman’?"

"Must have been hard not being an asshole for a whole second, right? It didn't give you an aneurysm?" she matched his false smile.

"No, but working with you for sure will." Ethan retorted. "On a positive note, I'll get to see you in sexy leotards."

"Pig" she muttered under her breath. "And I'll get to see you on leggings."

Ethan stopped walking and inspected her face, looking for any signs that told him she was joking "Wait, what?"

She smirked, enjoying the moment. "That's what figure skaters wear, genius."

"I won't wear that."

"Yes, you will, pretty boy. Don’t be a baby about it.” she said, and he flipped her off. He hated her so much. “See you tomorrow."

“Unfortunately.” he said loud enough for her to hear. She rolled her eyes as she walked away, she hated him so much.

THEY HAVEN'T EVEN GOT INTO THE ICE RINK AND ETHAN HAD ALREADY PISSED Y/N OFF. He had been inside the locker room for fifteen minutes now, and didn't want to step out. Y/N was two seconds away from kicking the door down.

"Landry get your ass out of that room right now! We are wasting our time!" she banged on the door furiously.

"You don't understand! I can't wear this, Y/L/N." Ethan yelled.

"Every skate figure wears leggings, Landry. There is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Yes, there is. This leggings are too tight, Y/N. Too tight."

Y/N sighed. "Let me see."

"No way!"

"Stop testing my patience, Landry. Let me see or I'll go in."

A few seconds later, she heard the turn of the handle and the door flew open. The air got stuck on her throat and a strangled sound left her mouth. The rumours going around the university were true, she couldn’t help thinking.

"Holy mother of God" she said loudly, gaze fixed on the problem. "That's too tight"

"That's what I've been saying for the past fifteen minutes!" he yelled frustrated.

"I thought you were exaggerating."

"Are you talking to me or my dick?" Ethan frowned, seeing how she wasn't looking at his face, gaze fixed on his huge bulge.

Y/N was brought back from the shock and finally looked away. "I'm so sorry! That was not okay of me, it's just... shocking."

"That I have a big dick? Ouch, I'm wounded."

"No! I mean- not that I ever thought about it. But I didn't expect I would ever find out" she couldn't have been blushing more. As much as she hated him, she wasn't stupid. Ethan Landry was the most attractive boy on college.

"Whatever. What am I going to do? I can't practice like this."

"Just put your gym shorts above the leggings. And hurry up."

She turned around to leave when he called her name. "I'll never get tired of seeing you in a leotard" Ethan winked at her before closing the door of the locker room.

What was his obsession with leotards? Y/N asked herself as she rolled her eyes. And as she made her way to the ice rink, she tried to ignore the fact that her whole body had turned warm after his words.

While putting his skates on, Ethan watched Y/N going over the routine. There were very scarce the times where he saw her without a scowl on her face or firing insults at him, and that was only when she was on the ice. Her face glowed and she was completely hypnotic. She moved around so flawlessly and elegantly that it was impossible to look away from her, you could tell that she truly loved being on ice. As much as he disliked her, Ethan couldn't deny that Y/N was beyond professional and one of the best skaters he had ever seen.

“Are you ready?” Y/N asked him, sliding towards the edge of the rink. Ethan got out of his daze and nodded. “Okay, so obviously this is not the same as hockey, but I’ve seen your moves and I don’t think you’ll have problems doing this routine. But if you don’t understand something, speak up and we’ll work on it.”

Ethan nodded. “Wait, what do you mean you have seen my moves?” he asked as they got into position.

“I’m a huge hockey fan, and I don’t miss any of Blackmore’s matches. So yeah, I’ve seen you play countless times.”

“Am I your favourite player?” he asked with a smirk.

“Let’s get to work.” she rolled her eyes. But the answer, even though she would never ever say it, was yes. And he knew it.

Objectively speaking, of course, Ethan Landry was the best hockey player Blackmore had. Probably better than the rest of the New York’s university players. On the ice, he was a force to be reckoned with and he was a hard-worker, he cared for his team and for the sport. He was a true captain. And that’s exactly why it shocked her to the core the way he had reacted on that final match.

“That’s a yes, I know it.” he smiled widely, making her sigh. He wasn’t making fun of her anymore, he was genuinely happy by it. And then a frown appeared on his face. “I hope I still am, even after what happened.”

The vulnerability in his voice melted Y/N’s walls. “You still are. You are not the first player to get suspended, and you won’t be the last. It has nothing to do with your skills or your commitment to the sport.”

“That’s not what coach says” he laughed dryly.

“Coach is furious because he lost his best player, but he doesn’t mean it. Everyone in this university knows how serious you are about hockey, okay? Don’t doubt yourself over one wrong action.”

They smiled at each other, for the first time ever, with sincerity. But then he ruin it with his smugness “Do you want my autograph?”

Y/N pushed him away playfully “You’re such an asshole”

“Oh sorry, would you prefer if I gave you my jersey?” Ethan sent her a teasing glance.

“I’d prefer if you shut up and start warming up.”

“Anything for my number one fan.” he winked at her and she almost melted. God, was he charming—annoying, but charming nonetheless.

“I despise you.”

But there wasn’t any hatred reflected on those words anymore. That day, they entered the rink expecting practice to be dreadful and filled with insults. They left laughing and hoping the next day would arrive quickly, because they had actually enjoyed it. There had been insults thrown, but they were the playful kind, insults that weren’t meant to hurt the other. Everything had changed that day for them.

Y/N HAD ALWAYS ENJOYED SKATING AND COMPETING, BUT DOING IT WITH ETHAN MADE IT EVEN BETTER. It’s ironic, when her coach told her he was to be James’ replacement, she thought it would be the worst thing ever. But now, that the three weeks were over, she knew she was going to miss him.

“So, that’s it, then.” Ethan spoke up as they left the arena. Today had been their last practice together, as James had already recovered and Ethan’s suspension had ended.

“That’s it.” she nodded. “It wasn’t half as bad as I’d imagined.”

“It wasn’t.” he agreed. His chest felt heavy, which was silly. It’s not like he wouldn’t see her again. They practiced the same days on the same place, and they even shared some classes. The truth was, he was scared it was the end of their newfound…friendship? God, no. Friendship wasn’t quite right, they had something more going on.

“Are you going to the competition?” she asked shyly, cheeks turning red.

God, she was so cute. It was hard to believe it was the same girl that was constantly bickering with him. “Do you want me to go?”

“I mean, I guess it’s kind of your routine too now, so I figure you’d like to see the outcome.” she said nervously.

Ethan took a step forward, so that she had to look up “That’s not what I asked. Do you want me to go?”

“Yes.” her tone was a bit unstable. His closeness made her insanely nervous, so she cleared her throat before replying again. “Yes. I want you to go. But no pressure, it’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll be there.” he assured her. “My game is on the same day, a few hours after your competition ends.”

“Oh, shit! That’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t come, you need to rest.”

Ethan shook his head. “I’ll be there.” he repeated. “But I want you to go to my game”

“I never miss one.” she said.

“Perfect. You know which number to use” he said, giving her a knowing look.

“Of course, I’ll wear Meeks’.” she teased.

Ethan clenched his jaw. “Use one that isn’t mine and see what happens.”

“You sound a bit mad there, Landry. You sound almost—” she stood on her tip toes, her mouth nearly touching his. “jealous.”

“You’re killing me here, Y/N/N.” his tone was pleading. He had never wanted to kiss someone so badly.

“What? You want me to kiss you?” her words left in a whisper and he could feel her breathy voice against his lips.

“I’ll give you three seconds to take a step back, if you don’t, I’ll kiss the hell out of you.” he warned her.

Y/N smiled. “One.” she set his hands on her waist. “Two.” then she wrapped hers around his neck. “Three.” she looked him in the eyes. “Still her-”

Ethan’s lips captured hers. The kiss was like their relationship—it started wild and aggressive and then it slowed down, becoming sweeter and softer but still holding an insanely amount of passion.

“You drive me crazy, did you know that?” Ethan laughed, pressing his forehead to hers. “In the most frustrating and loving way.”

“If a month ago someone told me I’ll be kissing Ethan Landry I would’ve laughed and then throw up in disgust. Now, there’s no other thing I’d rather be doing.”

“Aw, that was kinda sweet. You still have to work on your compliments, but you’ll get there.” he pressed kisses all over her face. “I’m so fucking glad I punched that guy.”

Y/N laughed. “I dare you to repeat that in front of coach.”

“I don’t have a death wish.”

“And you’re too pretty to die.” she pecked him on the lips. “Did I just make Ethan Landry blush?!”

“Shut up!” he laughed in such an adorable way that Y/N was surprised she didn’t melt in the spot. “I really like you, Y/N.”

“I really like you too.”

[imaginespazzi]

Part 1: Simple Things

Masterlist - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9

Cause your presence still lingers here (it won't leave me alone)

(In which a procrastinating writer starts another series to continuously procrastinate on)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining

Words: 5.8K (lowkey shocked I managed that)

TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Look at me not being a liar! I'mma try to be good with updates but we all know me. This first chapter is mainly buildup and it's not my favorite but it's important to get the plot rolling. I know very little about California and it's going to become more and more apparent throughout this series so everyone who knows Cali, just pretend thanks! Did I edit? Yes. Are there probably still mistakes? Also yes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked, and what you wanna see next!

February 2033

“Anywhere but GSV,” Paige says adamantly, staring at the white wall in front of her, instead of her exasperated agent. 

Talia lets out a deep sigh, perfectly manicured sharp red nails tapping incessantly against her desk. For the most part, Paige is a dream client and when Talia says jump, she says how high. It’s easy to trust Talia’s vision when she hasn’t let her down once since Paige’s management company has assigned her to their basketball sensation. But most of those decisions had been about endorsement opportunities, opportunities that wouldn’t have other ramifications on the rest of Paige’s life, opportunities that didn’t come with personal consequences. 

“Paige-”

“How about the Sparks?” 

“They’re not offering nearly as much.”

“I’m okay with taking a pay-.”

“You do not pay me as much as you do for me to let you finish such a stupid sentence.”

“Fine,” Paige spins around in her swivel chair, “you’re telling me nobody else is offering me anything as big as GSV.”

“Well I mean Indiana…” Talia trails off, barely able to hide an impish grin at Paige’s pronounced eyeroll, “and of course you could always just stay in Dallas.”

Paige winces at the mention of the current team. With one championship and two MVP campaigns under her belt, it would be incorrect to say her time with the Wings hadn’t been fruitful but she’d never felt quite at home here. And that had been before the personnel changes had hit Dallas and suddenly, the team coming off a near perfect season with a trophy in their hand, was struggling to keep themselves in playoff contention. Paige had stuck it out two more seasons after, a testament to her loyal nature and desire to start and finish her career at the same place like many legends had done but ultimately enough had been enough and she’s come to terms with the fact that she’s not meant to be a part of the Wings forever. 

“Can’t you try talking to the Sparks again?” she says, hands massaging her temple as she resorts to begging, “it’s fucking L.A. they’ve got to have some money lying around somewhere.”

“Even if they did, you and I both know the Sparks aren’t a good fit basketball wise either. GSV has everything you’re looking for. They need a PG and you need a championship contender who’s offering you a deal like they are. You can’t throw all of that away just because-”, Talia bites her lip, catching herself before she can vocalise out loud the real reason they’re having such a complicated conversation about what should be a simple decision. 

Paige swallows uncomfortably, skin prickling with that all too familiar fire that spreads through her veins every time her past brushes a little too close to her present. It would be impossible to keep them from ever colliding, but for almost a decade now, Paige has managed to keep them separate beyond absolute necessity. She’s done the cordial handshakes when the Wings played the Valkyries and given due diligent praise when the media had asked about the competition, but that was it. More than that would have been like willingly walking into a fire with kerosene all over her body. And Paige can’t do that, not when the burn marks from years and years ago, still haven’t healed. 

“Team chemistry is important,” Paige says finally, “I might be an on-court fit at GSV but that won’t matter if it’s a disaster off the court.”

Talia sighs and Paige can tell she’s fighting the urge to whack her head against her desk, “it’s been years Paige. You've lived a whole life without each other. The two of you are adults. You’re professionals and you’re two of the best goddamn players in the league. You have the same goal; you want to win. You don’t think you can put that behind you to get you both what you want?”

You've lived a whole life without each other

It’s like a well-aimed arrow that barely breaks skin but shatters something underneath, something buried deep within, something she should have gotten rid of years ago but hasn’t been able to let go of yet. Something that feels a lot like a forever she’d never gotten to live out and an always that had flown out of her reach. And Paige knows nobody lives the life they’d expected to live at fifteen or even eighteen but the truth is that most of her dreams had come true. The only thing missing was the person she’d expected to be there by her side when they did. 

“Okay listen,” Talia begins again, “here’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Bossy,” Paige smirks, bracing herself, knowing she’s not about to like the next words out of Talia’s mouth. 

“You’re going to go to San Francisco,” the older woman raises a silencing hand the minute Paige tries to protest, “you’re going to meet the front office, you’re going to meet the GM and you’re going to tour their facilities. And if after talking with them and seeing all they have to offer, if it’s still not enough to counter having to play with her, then we can revisit this conversation.”

“Can I say no?” Paige tilts her head with a sigh. 

Talia smirks and it’s enough for Paige to let her head finally hit the table, “your flight leaves in two days.”

***

Azzi wakes up to a light weight sprawled over her back and tiny fingers rubbing circles against her temple. She can’t help but smile, keeping her eyes closed and listening to the sound of her daughter’s quiet breathing as the little girl continues her ministrations. It’s a new skill she’s been taught, to wake her mom up like this instead of screaming. So far, Azzi think’s it’s been a successful transition. 

“Mama,” Stephie whispers in Azzi’s ear, “are you awake yet cause I really really want waffles.”

Azzi laughs, finally flipping herself over and Stephie squeals as she goes from on top of her mother, to landing on the bed, “I thought you said you wanted pancakes last night?”

“I did,” a thoughtful look crosses the five-year-old's eyes, “I think I changed my mind.”

“You think?” Azzi suppresses a smile. It’s uncanny really how she’d given birth to her perfect mini-me. The moment the nurses had placed the tiny little creature into her waiting hands, she’d noticed immediately how much it felt like looking through a door into her childhood. And with every passing day, it seems Stephie morphs more and more into Azzi. From the way her face betrays her every emotion to the way she can’t make a decision to save her life, it’s all Azzi and really it makes sense, because Stephie is all Azzi’s. 

“Yes,” Stephie nods matter-of-factly as she sits up onto her knee and pulls at Azzi’s blanket, “so can you get up and make me waffles now?”

“Oh of course I can, your highness,” Azzi says dramatically, rising off the bed and letting Stephie climb onto her back, “would you like chocolate sauce or maple syrup with that your majesty?”

Stephie groans, burying her face in Azzi’s neck as if her mother has asked her to make the most difficult decision in the world. They settle into their morning routine, Stephie brushing her teeth as Azzi goes through her meticulous skin care regiment, occasionally dabbing little bits of this and that on her daughter’s skin, eliciting soft giggles from the little girl. It’s her favourite sound in the entire world. Azzi’s life isn’t perfect and there’s a million what if’s, one bigger than all of the others, that plague her mind sometimes but then she looks at Stephie, and she knows she wouldn’t change a single decision she’d made. Because they’ve all led to this moment, 9 am on a Friday, making waffle batter as her five-year old sits on the counter-top. It’s not everything but it’s enough. 

The frantic sound of a door being haphazardly slammed open has both Stephie and Azzi startled, until Colleen comes bursting through it like a tornado. 

“Oh thank god you’re awake,” Azzi’s best friend and manager says, out of breath, as she throws her car keys on the kitchen table.

“Hi Aunty Leen,” Stephie grins, waffle batter all over her mouth as she continues to dip and lick. 

“Hey kiddo,” Colleen ruffles Stephie’s hair before sitting down and staring pointedly up at Azzi, “you might wanna sit down for this. I have news.”

“Sorry to break it to you Collen but your new h-o-o-k-u-p-s are not sit-down-newsworthy,” Azzi smirks as Colleen scrunches up her nose trying to keep up with the spelling. 

“Oh trust me Az, I wish this was about my h-o-o- whatever,” Colleen takes a deep breath, “GSV is meeting with a potential point guard this week.”

“I would hope so. We really need a PG if we’re gonna redeem ourselves next season.”

“Right, well- you see- the thing is-”

“Today if you can please Colleen,” but there’s this knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Her sixth sense that’s been dormant for years is prickling and if she’s honest with herself, Azzi knows the next words that are about to come out of Colleen’s mouth before her best friend has even said them. 

“GSV wants to sign Paige,” Colleen says slowly. 

For a moment there’s silence and it’s ridiculous how all it takes is her name for Azzi’s mind to start flipping through pages and pages of a photo album she’s buried deep in the treasure chest of her mind. And for a second, she allows herself to get lost in a flood of everything we could have been until the sting of her hand slipping against the waffle iron jolts her back to reality. 

“Fuck,” she curses, immedaitely blowing at her fingers. It does nothing. She should know by now that when things burn, the flames might die out, but even the ashes remain on fire. 

“Bad word Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, unaware that her mother’s world has just been thrown off balance, “you owe me a kiss.”

She juts her cheek out and Azzi complies, trying to ignore the way her heart is desperately trying to beat out of her chest. It only calms down a little when Stephie presses a kiss of her own against Azzi’s cheek. 

“Sorry sweetheart, mama’s bad, Here can you mix this batter for me,” Azzi whispers to the younger girl, distracting her child with something to do, before rounding on her best friend, “she can’t come here.”

Colleen sighs, getting comfortable in her chair, “unfortunately I don’t think you have much choice.”

“The h-” Azzi cuts herself off, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, “the haystack I don’t. This is my team and I don’t want her on it and I’m gonna walk into Ohemaa’s office and tell her exactly that.”

“Right and what exactly are you going to tell her when she asks you why you don’t want the best point guard in the league on your team Azzi? Your team, who mind you, lost in the finals last year because you didn’t have a point guard.”

Azzi flinches, gritting her teeth, both at the reminder of the loss that had happened not long enough ago and the fact that she couldn’t very well go into her boss’s office and blurt out the truth about a tragic relationship that had lived and died in secret. 

“It's a bad idea, the two of us- we’ll kill each other Colleen,” she struggles to string the words together, swallowing away the we already have that tastes like bile on the tip of her tongue. 

“Well you’re gonna have to learn not to,” Colleen says decisively, slipping from being Azzi’s best friend to her manager, “because you and I both know that if you want GSV to win another championship, you’re going to need her.”

“Are you my manager or GSV’s,” Azzi grunts, rubbing a tired hand against her forehead. 

Colleen smiles, “it’s the same thing isn’t it? What’s good for GSV is good for you. And we all know the two of you thrive on the court together.”

“We did. Past tense,” the admission falls like lava from Azzi’s lips, singeing the edges of her mouth as everything that she’d let simmer underneath threatens to bubble over, “there’s no guarantee we still will. Besides, it's all a moot point anyways because she would never agree.”

“Wouldn’t she?” Colleen cocks an eyebrow and Azzi groans at the rhetorical question, waiting for the inevitable other shoe to drop, “because last I checked, she’s flying into San Francisco tomorrow.”

***

Paige has a problem. A really big fuck i really want to be a golden state valkyrie type of problem. She’d fought it every step of the way since she’d landed in San Francisco. Something about the city felt like it was bursting with basketball. The drive from the airport into Oakland had been bursting with murals of the Warriors and the Valkyries and for a split second, Paige can see her own face up on the billboards in a #5 Valkyries jersey. She just doesn’t know if it she can imagine herself next to the woman in #35 again, the woman whose smile in the posters is exactly as she remembers it to have been like when it was pressed into Paige’s skin every night almost a decade ago. 

On top of that, Omehaa Nyanin had seemed to know exactly what made Paige Bueckers, the basketball player, tick. Every argument Paige had about why she shouldn’t be Valkyrie, the woman had a counter ready, as if she’d already anticipated exactly what the blonde would say. The Valkyrie coach had been even more prepared with videos of their offensive and defensive sets and how they fit in tandem with Paige’s own skill set, all ready to show off the minute she had walked through the door. It should be the easiest decision in the world to let herself just belong to this world that is screaming her name but there’s a rope around her waist trying to tug her back to safety, trying to tug her away from dousing her still-open wounds in salt. 

Sighing, Paige lets herself into what she’s been told is called the “chill area”. Coach had offered to give her a tour of the facilities herself but Paige had declined, asking instead for her former UConn teammate and currently Valkyrie centre Jana El Alfy to do the honours, desperate for a familiar face who knew her history to bounce her thoughts off. It clearly wasn’t what the woman had wanted, but considering she was trying to convince Paige to choose them, whatever the blonde wanted, she was going to get. Massaging her temples at this irritating predicament she’s unwillingly found herself in, Paige’s head rolls back against the back of the chair, eyes closing involuntarily. 

“You’re not supposed to sleep in here,” a tiny voice echoes and Paige almost jumps out her skin in shock. 

“Fucking hell,” she curses as her eyes fall upon a little girl who seems to have materialized out of nowhere, “shit kid, you scared me.”

The child scrunches her nose and Paige feels her heart beat start to quicken as recognition settles in. She knows this little girl, has seen her on the sidelines at countless games and just like every other time, all she can think of is just how much this child resembles the future Paige had once believed would be hers. 

“You owe me three kisses,” the girl says matter-of-factly, her tone so similar to her mothers. It shouldn’t surprise Paige, not when the kid has those same dark curls, those same doey brown eyes, that same nose scrunch.

“I owe you three kisses?” Paige repeats. 

The girl rolls her eyes letting out a sigh far too grave for someone of her age, “yes. Mama says whenever someone says a bad word around me, they have to give me a kiss. You said three bad words, so you owe me three kisses.”

“And what does Mama say about asking strangers for kisses?”

“Stranger danger duh silly,” the child puts her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she looks at Paige with a far too familiar expression, “but you’re not a stranger.”

Paige purses her lips, “I’m not?”

“You’re Paige Bueckers. I’ve seen you at Mama’s games and Nanna and Pops have pictures of you in their house,” she stops, staring accusingly, “you don’t know who I am? Did you forget me?” 

And Paige doesn’t know what catches her off guard more. The casual mention of a house that used to feel like a home, of people that used to feel like family or the fact that, that puppy dog stare still has the exact same effect on her that it did years ago, even if the owner of said eyes is different.

“Of course I didn’t forget you. You’re Stephanie,” Paige says softly, trying to muster a smile as she adds the last name, “Stephanie Fudd.”

“Stephanie Katarina Fudd,” comes the immediate correction, “but everybody calls me Stephie,” tiny hands wrap around Paige’s neck as Stephie climbs on to her lap, tapping a finger on her left cheek as she smiles up at Paige, “so now can I have my kisses?”

Slowly, Paige presses three featherlight kisses against the little girl’s cheek and when Stephie squeals in delight, she wishes she could record it. Someone somewhere is playing a practical joke on her, Paige is sure of it. Because all of a sudden, all the little things she’s been collecting as to reasons why she might just like the Bay Area are starting to feel insignificant in front of this one, in front of Stephie and her innocent smile and the way her free hand is curled around Paige’s neck as if she’ll hold on forever. And the world is definitely playing a cruel prank on her because Stephie can’t be the reason Paige wants to stay, not when her mother’s the reason Paige needs to go.

“Your Mama just lets you run around the building like this?” Paige asks, trying to focus on Stephie instead of the turmoil in her brain. 

Stephie smiles sheepishly, “well I was ‘posed to stay with Aunty Leen while Mama talks to Miss O but then Aunty Leen got a call and I was bored so I came here.”

It doesn’t take Paige too long to decipher that Miss O must be Omehaa, but she’s stuck on who the hell Aunty Leen could be. She’s distinctly aware that her skin has no right to prickle, her hands have no right to sweat, her stomach has no right to knot, she has no right to feel anything when it comes to Stephie’s mother. But jealousy floods through her anyways. 

“Who is Aunty Leen?” Paige asks and then mentally slaps herself for it. 

“Aunty Leen is Aunty Leen,” Stephie explains unhelpfully, “so Miss Buecks-”

“Bueckers.”

Stephie shoots her an unimpressed look, “same things Miss Buecks. Are you here to join Mama’s team?”

“I-” Paige scratches her neck, only slightly taken aback by the direct question, “I don’t know.”

“You should,” Stephies says decisively, “Mama’s team is the best team in the world and Mama’s the best player in the whole wide world.”

Paige can’t help but smile at Stephie’s loyalty, “so why does her team need me then?”

Stephie looks contemplative for a moment before she uses her index finger to beckon Paige towards her, “can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course you can,” Paige says, leaning her ear down so Stephie can whisper into it.

“Don’t tell anyone but you’re my second favourite player.”

Paige swears her heart feels like it might burst. She’s been plenty of people’s favourite player and it’s always been nice to hear. But somehow, all of that seems to pale in comparison to being Stephie’s second favourite player. 

“Why’s that a secret?” she asks softly. 

“Cause you play for the wrong team silly. I can’t cheer for not Mama’s team,” Stephie huffs and then her eyes twinkle, “that’s why you should play for Mama’s team and then I can support you!”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” Paige concedes, battling against the part of her brain that’s conjuring up an image of Stephie on the sidelines, cheering for Paige. 

“What’s log-ic?” Stephie asks. 

“Just means you’re a really smart kid,” Paige says, tapping the little girl’s nose. Her head is ringing with warning bells because this floaty feeling of belonging that’s encompassed in this little bubble she’s found herself in with Stephie is not one she’s allowed to feel, not now, not ever. 

“STEPHIE,” a shrill voice echoes outside and Stephie immediately dives into Paige’s neck, hiding herself in the crook of it as a frazzled woman bursts through the door. Her eyes soften when they fall on Paige and the blonde can’t help the caught expression that filters on her face. She knows she’s done nothing wrong; Stephie had been the one to find her after all. But perhaps it’s because she’s scared Colleen will take one look at her and see that tiny rebellious part of her that wants to fight what’s coming next, wants to fight the woman who’s going to take Stephie away from her. Paige isn’t one to get attached easily. It had only ever happened once before when she was fifteen and she’d just known that the girl shooting three’s next to her on the court was meant to be in her life in one way or another. But things had been simple then. Nothing was simple now. 

“Stephie,” Colleen says slowly, “what have I told you about running away from me?”

Stephie peeks her head out from Paige’s chest, a coy smirk playing on her lips, “not to do it? But you were boring me Aunty Leen.”

Oh that’s Aunty Leen, Paige thinks and she absolutely should not let out a sigh of relief at that but she does anyway. 

“I was on the phone for two minutes, Steph.”

“Two minutes too long,” Stephie counters and Paige has to stifle a laugh. 

Colleen rolls her eyes before holding out a hand, “well your Mama’s nearly done so we have to get going kiddo.”

“Can Miss Buecks come with us?” Stephie asks innocently and both Colleen and Paige freeze. 

“I don’t think-”

“I’m not sure-”

They both begin before their eyes flicker to each other and they can’t help but smile. It’s funny how relationships work, how one snapped string can cause a whole web to dissolve, no matter how hard everyone involved had tried to make it work. 

“I’m waiting to meet someone sweetheart so I can’t come right now,” Paige explains, “but maybe next time?”

And she shouldn’t add that last part, not when Paige should be devising an escape plan to never be in Oakland again instead of giving Stephie false hope about a next time that’s far from guaranteed. But it’s worth it for the way Stephie grins, staring at Paige like she’s given her the world’s greatest gift. 

Before Paige can say anything, the little girl presses her lips against Paige’s cheek and she swears she stops breathing for a moment, “I hope you choose to play for Mama’s team Miss Buecks. I think you’d look pretty in purple.”

***

May 2024

“I’ve figured it out,” Paige says triumphantly as she unceremoniously flops onto Azzi’s bed.

“Well hi to you too babe,” Azzi grumbles as she scoots over to give the other girl space. It’s unnecessary because the minute she does, Paige only moves closer, wrapping an arm around Azzi’s torso. 

“Hi baby,” she whispers before pressing a kiss against her girlfriend’s lips and pulling away so quickly that it leaves Azzi chasing after her. 

Azzi huffs and Paige laughs as she gets herself comfortable, resting her chest on the darker skinned girl's stomach, “I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

“Our future,” Paige says triumphantly and Azzi can’t help but smile at the our as she intertwines their fingers together. It’s been years in the making and there’s nothing Azzi’s more confident in than those two words. Not everyone finds forever this young, but she’s certain they have because really she can’t imagine a life where they don’t belong to each other, a life where every night isn’t spent exactly like this. 

“And what do you see for our future,” Azzi asks softly. 

“Well it’s simple really,” Paige hums, “I’m going to get drafted wherever next year but the year after,  you’re definitely getting drafted to Valkyries-”

“I don’t know about definitely-”

“Azzi it’s rude to interrupt,” Paige sends her a chastising look. 

“Right of course,” Azzi nods solemnly, “continue.”

“As I was saying. You’re definitely getting drafted to the Valks and then we just have to wait for my rookie contract to be up and boom! I’ll join you in the Bay Area and we’ll be together forever and ever and ever.”

Azzi giggles, brushing her hands through Paige’s hair, “that simple huh?”

“That simple,” Paige promises, catching hold of one of Azzi’s hands to press a kiss to her palm, “it’s us Az, we’ll always be simple. Besides, I think we’d both look pretty good in purple.”

***

May 2033

The Valkyrie facilities are state of the art as expected. Jana is the perfect tour guide, pointing out everything she knows will garner Paige’s attention. As they step foot onto the practice court, Paige feels the overwhelming sense of this could be home that’s been dancing along with her every step of the way today. All the resolve she’d carried with her from Dallas is slowly crashing down and she can practically hear Talia’s sing-song i told you so voice echoing in her head. 

“You’d be really good here P,” Jana says excitedly, doing a little spin.

“You’d be lucky to have me,” Paige teases, as she picks up a basketball and subconsciously starts dribbling. 

Jana laughs, before a serious expression takes over, “we would. We got really close to winning it all last year and I think you might be our missing piece.”

“I want to,” Paige confesses, “I just-” her eyes flicker to the most recent MVP poster hanging on the walls, Jana’s gaze following hers, “I don’t know if I should. It’s so complicated.”

“Only if you let it be,” Jana says as she swipes the ball out Paige’s hands, “don’t think of everything else P, just- just think of the basketball. Because you know basketball-wise, this is the right move,” she passes the ball to Paige with a smirk, tilting her head towards the basket, “why not take a shot at it P?”

Paige shakes her head, palming the ball in her hands, “can’t believe my son’s all grown up.”

“Children of divorce have no choice but to grow up,” Jana says gravely and Paige laughs despite herself. 

Taking a deep breath, Paige raises the ball, arching her arms perfect as she shoots it. It barely touches the rim, before falling through the basket with swish. Hitting the floor with a quiet thud, the ball rolls until it’s stopped by someone's foot. Behind her, Paige can hear Jana cheering for the shot but she barely registers it, her entire attention on the new figure who’s just entered the court. It’s a tale as old as time. Azzi Fudd enters the room and suddenly everything else in Paige’s peripheral fades away, until it’s just her and the girl who still manages to steal her breath away. 

“Nice shot,” Azzi says, as she takes a slow step towards Paige. The air is thick with tension as if a time capsule has been opened and their past is leaking onto the pages of their present, staining it with marks of the you and me that we used to be. She should say something, even if it’s just an acknowledgement of the compliment but her tongue feels dry and she’s scared that if she opens her mouth, all the things she shouldn’t say will flood out instead. 

“Hey Az,” Jana’s eyes flicker awkwardly between her former teammates, “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

“Had to talk to Omehaa about a couple of things,” Azzi says airly, eyes still fixated on Paige, “Jana can we have a minute?”

“You won’t kill each other will you?” Jana asks nervously.

Azzi laughs and even Paige cracks a small smile, “no Jana, we won’t kill each other.”

“Just making sure because last time-” Jana clamps a hand to her mouth as both Paige and Azzi flinch, “because nothing- you guys- you guys talk. I’ll give you guys a minute.”

She scampers away cursing to herself about putting her foot in her mouth and it would be amusing, if not for the fact that Paige can still barely breathe. They haven’t been alone in a room since last time and the air around them hangs heavy with the casings of the grenades they’d hurled at each other. 

“I’ve never seen you with braids this early in the year. They used to be your summer braids,” Paige remarks slowly. It’s a mundane change to notice but it’s significant of the larger truth, significant of all the time that’s passed, significant of the fact they don’t know these new versions of each other. 

“Yeah um, can’t really do summer braids with the W season,” Azzi chews at her lip.

“Right yeah- yeah that makes sense,” Paige nods. The awkwardness is killing her. She’d never been a fan of the silence, always more comfortable in the chaos but it had been different with Azzi. There had been something peaceful, something calming, about the quiet, when it was just the two of them, hands intertwined, eyes closed, as they listened to the sound of each other’s heartbeat. 

“Paige-”

“Are you here to tell me not to come to GSV?” Paige blurts out, “because it’s- it’s okay if you are like I get it. I mean- the two of us- it’s just really fucking complicated so I get it- I get it if you don’t want me here.”

“I didn’t,” Azzi admits and it shouldn’t, but Paige feels it sting anyways, “you’re right. You and I- there’s just a lot there and it would- it would be really complicated and when Colleen first told me I- I was gonna go fight Omehaa and be like abso-fucking-lutely not but-” she sucks in a deep breath, “do you remember the promise we made to each other?”

“We made a lot of promises to each other,” Paige says, unable to keep the harshness out of her tone, “sorry I-”

“No you’re right,” Azzi swallows, “but I meant the promise we made when we first started dating. We said we’d never let the personal affect the professional. We promised each other that no matter what, we’d never let our relationship affect us on the court And I know- I know we’ve broken a lot of promises to each other,” they both let out a breath at that, “but I think- I think maybe we should try and keep this one.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you need a championship contender and GSV needs a PG. Paige, I’m not here to convince you to not come to GSV, I’m here to ask you to join our team,” Azzi says resolutely. 

Paige isn’t easily shocked by anything really. She’s lived what she’d consider a pretty interesting life but of course if anyone was going to surprise her, it would be Azzi. Azzi, who has always been an exception to every rule. 

“You- you want me on your team?” Paige repeats, a little dumbfounded.

“Yes,” Azzi affirms, “you told me once that we could be the best backcourt duo in college basketball and we were, even if it was only for a year, we were and so now I’m telling you that I think we could be the best backcourt duo in the WNBA.”

Paige is silent for a second before a smirk takes over her features, “I think I did a lot more than tell you, pretty sure I had a whole video that proved it.”

“Are you asking me to make you a recruiting video?” Azzi raises an unamused eyebrow. 

Paige shrugs, “could be a nice gesture.”

“I have a five year old child, Bueckers. Trust me when I say I don’t have enough spare time for bullshit like that when you can easily just search up our highlights on youtube. Or just look in your trophy case if you’re looking for proof of how good we can be together,” Azzi says, a hint of that familiar sass bleeding into her spiel. 

“We really were good together weren’t we,” it spills out before Paige can stop it and it’s like they’re taking two steps back from each other, the friendly-ish banter of mere seconds ago being clouded by a past tainted by their mistakes, “on the court I mean. We were really good on the court.”

“Right,” Azzi averts her gaze, “just- just think about it okay? This doesn’t- it doesn’t have to be about you and me, not like that at least. It’s about basketball. GSV is the perfect fit for you and you’re the perfect fit for us. And deep down you must know that too, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe I’m just in it for the free trip to Cali,” Paige surmises. 

Azzi scoffs, “you and I both know you make too much money to need a free trip to Cali. If anything, the hotel they’ve given you is probably cheap for your standards.”

“Maybe I just like feeling important? I always did love people showering me with praise.” 

“You always did love the attention,” Azzi grins teasingly, “but there’s one thing you always loved more.”

You, Paige thinks but she can’t say that, “and what’s that?”

“Winning. That’s what this is about. You want another championship, so do we. Come help us and let us help you. It’s that simple.”

As Azzi turns to walk away, Paige can’t help but call out from behind her, “you know I think your daughter’s pitch might have been better.”

There’s a smile playing on Azzi’s lips when she turns her face back a little. It’s a new smile that Paige can only assume is Azzi’s Stephie smile,  “yeah? What did she say?”

“She told me she thinks I’d look good in purple,” Paige smirks. 

Azzi laughs, and it’s exactly like Paige remembers,  “it’s that simple huh?”

“It’s that simple.”

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Pinky Promise 3

Part 1

Part 2

Word count: 2K

Pairings: Jake Seresin X Reader

A/N: Round 3 of Pink Promise! I have a few more I want to put out, but if you have something you want to see in them let me know! It's been a lot of fun writing these. Thanks for reading!!

The two of you were sitting around Jake’s house eating takeout Chinese food. Some old movie was playing on the TV. For some reason Jake preferred the classics but you found them to be incredibly boring. It was often you found yourself in this same position, sprawled out on his couch, sitting in a comfortable silence as you watched another movie you couldn’t retell the plot of.

Which is why in that moment you chose to say, “I got into medical school.”

It was nearly comical watching him choke on the spoonful of rice. He sat up and looked over to you, still coughing up those last pieces. “I’m sorry. What did you just say?” The look he gave you was disbelief mixed with something else. Something you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t think I stuttered.” You took a bite of an egg roll and waited for his mind to catch up.

“Medical school? For doctors?” You couldn’t help but smirk at his choice of questions. “Yes, like for doctors. I thought pilots were supposed to be smart?”

He shook his head and laughed, “When the hell did you have time for that?”

You finished off the egg roll and shrugged your shoulders, “What do you think I do all day while you’re at work?”

This path you took was one you had been on for a while Everyone saw you as the girl who parties, the one who doesn’t care about the outcome of her decisions. But it couldn’t be farther from the truth. And instead of showing people how wrong they were about you, you let them form their very low opinions. Pleasing people was never one of your strong points and a few judgmental comments weren’t going to tear you down.

Jake was clearly still processing things but paused the movie to give you his full attention. What he said next though, nearly made you cry right then and there.

“I am so proud of you, sweetheart. Holy crap you are going to be a doctor.” He got up and pulled you into a tight hug. It was then the look on his face made more sense. It was a look of pride, and one you hadn’t gotten before.

“Tell me all about it. Where are you going? When do you start?” His enthusiasm for this made you feel something that part of you was afraid to feel. This man was slowly becoming your best friend, which is why you pushed down all other feelings. No need to ruin a good thing.

“Well, I decided I wanted to stay close to home and was lucky enough to get into the University of California San Diego. My GPA was a little short of what they wanted, but I killed the interview. Something about your dad dying while fighting for his country tends to pull on heartstrings.”

Jake shook his head, “You did not pull that card.”

You waved a hand at him, “Please. I would be dumb not to. I also threw in about staying close to the base in case anything happened to Bradley. And that I might follow in the family footsteps one day.”

Jake’s head tilted at the last part. “You are not enlisting. I draw the line at that.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Down tiger. All I meant was that I would want to work at a hospital close to base. The one all of you get sent to when something goes wrong.”

Relief was evident as he exhaled. “I don’t think the military could handle you anyway.”

It was true. You were never one to follow orders well. Plus having a third Bradshaw in the Navy would be too much for anyone.

You picked the remote back up and resumed the movie. While Jake thought this was a big deal, you were ready to get back to the movie night. You still had a few months until school started anyway.

The movie had been playing for a few minutes, but you could feel eyes on you every now and then. “Is something the matter?”

You glanced over to the man next to you and watched him shake his head. “Nothing. You just keep surprising me, that’s all.”

“Well, either turn your attention back to this movie or I’m putting something better on. Maybe something made in this decade.” A chuckle graced your ears and a quick, “Yes ma’am.”

It wasn’t until the credits were running that he said, “You better not forget about me when you become a big shot doctor.”

“I don’t think I could forget about you even if I tried.” And it was the truth. That one drunken call has led you to one of the best things in life.

“Pinky promise you won’t.” He had his signature smirk on full display as he held out his pinky for you to shake on. You happily gave him yours, thrilled that the Top Gun pilot has accepted this form of promises.

When he pulled away, he asked, “What made you want to become a doctor?” It was a simple question with a very loaded answer.

“When my mom was sick, it was just me and her most of the time. Bradley was off at the academy, something she wouldn’t tell him but absolutely hated. And I found myself wanting to give her some sort of joy to offset my brother’s choices. I made her a promise that I was going to graduate and get a degree in something. Something that would make a difference. It took a while to figure out what that was, but the look of pride on her face when I said medical school, I only wish I had a photo of that single moment.

“When there were days I questioned if I could do it or if I even still wanted to, I think back to that conversation and all doubts went out the window. There are very few things in life I want more than graduating from med school which is why I worked so hard to even get it.” Jake wiped a tear that I didn’t know had fallen.

“She would’ve been happy that you accomplished a goal while still holding onto yourself. That you had fun while doing it. Not too many people can find that balance which tells me you are going to do amazing. But if you ever need some sort of motivation or a simple distraction from school, you can call me anytime sweetheart.”

And just like that, you knew Jake Seresin was going to be in your life for as long as you could keep him.

After the incident a little while back, your brother made an effort to be more present in your everyday life. Which meant he was currently over at your apartment criticizing how you were making dinner.

“At any point you can either cook yourself or shut up.” Bradley held up his hands in surrender.

“All I’m saying is that you are going to burn the bottom of it if you don’t stir it more often.” You turned around from the food and pointed the utensil in your hand at him. Which just so happened to be a knife.

“Listen here bird boy. My house, my rules which means you can sit your judgmental ass down before I do something you can’t bounce back from. Last I checked you needed all ten fingers to fly.”

Again, he held up his hands and thankfully kept his mouth shut while you finished up. It wasn’t too much longer before you were dishing out food for the two of you and sitting down to eat it like a normal family. The two of you sat in silence while you ate, neither of you knowing what to say.

It was like this most nights. After your mom died Bradley threw himself into his work, leaving you to fend for yourself. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but the two of you grew apart as the years went on, leaving you to call your brother only when you needed help. This is what formed his new picture of you. He only saw you when you were at your worst.

But he was trying and the least you could do was meet him halfway.

“You know how you see me as careless and not at all organized with life?” You watched as your brother sighed and shook his head.

“We have gone over this. That is not how I see you. We just have different goals in life and that’s fine.” You waved him off.

“Right. Well, I am pleased to tell you that I’m not as big as a fuck up as you might think. I start med school in a few months.” Bradley dropped his spoon, sending food splattering on the counter.

You watched his facial expressions, looking or hoping for the one you got the other day from Jake. It wasn’t that you needed the validation from your brother, but it would be nice to see it for once.

“Med school? The school where you go to become a doctor?” You snorted at the similar question Jake had asked.

“What is with pilots and their lack of common sense. Yes, Bradley. The school for doctors.” You grabbed a napkin to wipe up the drops of food while he tried to form words.

“How?” You froze at that single word. It shouldn’t surprise you, the lack of faith this man had in you. But it still stung.

“The same way anyone gets in. Ace a test, get decent grades, and interview well. Not too hard when you think about it.” Which wasn’t exactly true. You had a lot of all-nighters, tears shed at the near impossible dream, and many bumps along the way. But you had to do it.

“Mom and dad would be proud of you.” Your eyes met his and you saw something different in them. It wasn’t the pride you were looking for but sadder. Like the weight of those words cut through him.

“I know. I was always trying to follow in your footsteps, even if I did take a longer path. But you know dad would’ve been ecstatic to see you wear the patch he tried so hard for. And mom, well mom would’ve eventually gotten over her fears of you being a pilot and saw how you were born for this. You know that, right?”

He cleared his throat and focused back on his food. “Anyone else know? It’s a pretty big deal.”

You picked up on the change of topic and said, “Your arch nemesis knows. Besides that, the friend list is pretty scarce these days.”

He slowly nodded his head, “You seem to spend a lot of time with him.”

“He’s a good friend. No need to look too far into it. I know the two of you have your issues, but he’s never given me a reason to question his intentions.”

Bradley hummed in response, but he didn’t fully believe you when it comes to only being friends. He’s seen the way Jake is at work, but with you he was completely different. You might not see it or are trying to ignore it, but he knew better.

“Are you and him still at each other’s throats?” Bradley rolled his eyes, “It’s not my fault he thinks he’s better than everyone else. He’s insufferable.”

You grabbed the finished plates and took them to the sink. “You know what would get under his skin? If you laughed at everything he said. I think that would rile him up good.”

Bradley squinted his eyes at you, “I thought the two of you were friends? Why would you tell me that?”

You shrugged your shoulders, “He is always listening to me complain about you. This way he can do it for once so it’s more even.”

Bradley threw his napkin at you and shook his head, “You’re a jerk, you know that?”

You threw him one of Jake’s signature smirks, “But I’m your jerk.”

Tag List: @rosiahills22 @sunlitsunflowers @dempy @mamaskillerqueen @luckyladycreator2 @atarmychick007 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @topguncultleader @alilstressyandlotdepressy @avengers-fixation @chaoticcassidy @alldaysdreamers

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby (part 6)

alastor w/ angel daughter reader

(notes: alastor's adoptive daughter is in hell, let's hope she doesn't get eaten alive!)

(the singing lines you'll encounter were meant to not be in order.. you'll understand once you read it hehe >:) )

(caution: alastor being lowkey a bit manipulative? not too terrible but just word of caution.)

(tags: @maksdust @willowwillflower @sunshinesetsstuff @0willowwisp0 @projectdreamwalker @1potato2rulethemall @just-here-reading @avitute @pooplyface1423 @insomniacfigure @mo-0-o @thekanrojimitsuri2 @nevermorekisses @wildfire153 )

my editor <3: @kruncher

Rosie finished her sentence by patting your shoulder gently before her hands finally rested on the handle of her umbrella once more.

You fiddled with your hands as you shined an awkward smile.. you looked like a child about to give a powerpoint presentation to a class.

You then chose to immediately face the Princess once again, eyes on her entirely "but.. um.. Yes!.. Princess Charlie, I saw you at the courtroom presenting your case and I just have to say I'm very inspired!... and I would like to contribute to your cause somehow!.." you paused yourself from speaking too much into it.. wanting to save certain parts for only her ears to hear.

"I also would need to get back home.. and I know you have that sort of influence in Hell to get me a way in Heaven again!-- o...oh..-"

You felt your skin crawl as you barely acknowledged a suddenly teleported Alastor to your side, his staff holding up your injured wing gently to get a good look at the bandaged injury.. his eyes narrowing and a 'hmm' softly escaping his throat. 

A threatening spark in his eye flashed which resulted in your injured wing suddenly moving away from him, despite that flash not being for you specifically. 

In his usual Alastor fashion he seemed very collected, but it was a bit obvious he was much intrigued at your presence and your bandage.

Charlie seemed to finally catch her bearings, moving a few frazzled strands of hair away from her face. "Well.. Welcome either way! We can definitely do that! I will admit I only managed to get through to heaven thanks to my dad but I'm sure he can come up with some sort of way to get you back home!" she seemed to look at your halo and wings, your status as an angel very well seen and she was honestly a bit frazzled by a 'winner' falling down in here all of a sudden.

Rosie gently laid her hand on Alastor's shoulder "Poor little thing ain't she? Susan got her wing real good but I fixed her up right in the nick of time! no infection will harm her further."

Alastor's radio shriek happened again but in a much softer pitch "Susan did this?" There was a quick pause before Alastor spoke up again, "Oh I'll have to talk with Susan soon! How impolite could that old woman be! The senior citizens these days.." he rolled his eyes in a playful manner before Charlie spoke up again.

"Well!-- _____ was it? Let me see if I can get Vaggie to sho--"

"Nonsense!" Interrupted Alastor, almost practically jumping in between Charlie and yourself with a very odd excitement. "Why, I'll help of course! It is quite simple just taking a new guest to their new room!"

Charlie smiled half heartedly "Alastor that's so helpful of you! Just.. don't scare our guest please. I know how interesting you can.. get." the end of her sentence dragged on, as if dreading what he's capable of doing. "Oh and no deals! This is a freedom-oriented place! We don't want any souls to be collected here please.." she then just gave you two a thumbs up, a bit exhausted but still uplifting.

"Meanwhile I'll talk to Rosie here about her cannibals and how we intend to also keep them safe! While they also get their-- fill!.."

Alastor seemed to slither his arm around yours, elbows interlocking. "How exciting! There's so much to show you around here in the Hazbin Hotel! Gosh it'll make you wish to stay down here forever!" A loud cackle could be heard from him that eventually morphed into a bunch of static-covered laugher.

Your body froze as you were dragged away by Alastor up the velvet red steps, not even getting a chance to properly thank Rosie and Charlie.

You're stuck with him now.

Lucky you.

Getting dragged by Alastor was as if a swarm of wasps was lingering on your arm; absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

You stayed quiet as he continued to ramble, talking nonsense about hell, the hotel, how he thought of the name and the design.. basically bragging. It all went in one ear and out the other.

"--isn't that right darling?"

huh?

Your senses came back to you and your eyes flickered up to him once before looking down. "Oh.. my bad I didn't catch that.."

Alastor stopped in his tracks which immediately caused you to stop in yours. There was a pause..

"Why, my dear, since when have I ever had to repeat anything to you? You hardly ever daydreamed like this before!"

You let out a shaky exhale through your nose, "Yea.. sorry." you spoke in a subtle sarcastic way.

He shook his head, his tongue clicking into minor sounds of 'tsk tsk.' "Oh _____ darling there's no need to be so formal! I'm your father! Not a stranger."

You scoffed, "You seem to enjoy treating me like one."

His eyes narrowed down at you; you wanted to burst into a cold sweat just like that. 

"It's better that way, you have absolutely no clue about how animalistic these sinners can be!"

He let his arm uncurl around yours to stand in front of a hotel room door with one of the miscellaneous hotel numbers at the top, his hand covering over the door knob as a green glowing hue forced it to open with a single 'click', a key suddenly spawning and dropping right into the palm of his clawed hand.

Your nose scrunched up in slight disgust "Oh I, in fact, do have a clear idea.. "

Alastor didn't respond to your comment but simply took your hand and had your palm face upward, dropping the cold obsidian key on your skin.

"Your key to your new quarters! If there's any issues with it, do let us know how we can fix it for you."

Your fingers closed your hand around the item and held it tightly against your chest in a defensive stance.

"Uh huh.." you then skimmed past him to walk through the door, your free hand clenching onto the handle of your travel bag in stress.

"Although, I'm simply dying to know--" Alastor's haunting voice caused you to freeze, your head slowly tilted to look behind you with a chill down your spine. Alastor's eyes radiated red, red as sin. 

"Why exactly did you think it was a swell idea to drop aaaall the way down here?" His arm holding up his came pointing up and slowly down as he stretched out the word 'all', insinuating falling down from heaven.

"And somehow doing that while still staying pure as snow? Oh darling, I just must know!"

You huffed a sigh out your nose and rolled your eyes,

"You know, I really admire how hard you try to ask questions when you know I'm not gonna tell you anything."

"_______, even a blind and deaf man would know that voluntarily going down here is practically a suicide! And I know you, you must've thought of this real well hmm? Risking getting gutted like a fish?"

"What would you like to know.." you mumbled as you then proceeded to close the door on him, your back slowly turning towards him.

Until the door was harshly tugged back to stay open, looking over to see Alastor gripping the other end of the door knob.

He laughed, it intimidated and irritated you "My darling you seem to forget who I am. I'm no stranger, I didn't spend the entirety of my glory 20s and 30s to raise you alone just for you to attempt to disown me. Besides.. you still need me my dear. 

After all.. I was the one that held you when the thunder refused to subside, I built you a home.. a wonderful home that others would live in with pride!"

He grabbed your hand yet again to pull you out once more, twirled you suddenly and pointed at your current outfit, a bit dirty with faint spots of dirt on certain spots from first hitting that dumpster when you first got here. 

"Don't even have to mention the elephant in the room.. just simply look at you! Fragile as a flower, still a little sampling.. just a sprout." He next pointed at your wings, ears, and halo during the duration of his phrase. His tone slowly morphing into a familiar sing-song voice and melody you could have sworn was something from your childhood.

You scoffed "Okay that's nice and all but can I just g--"

"Father knows best! listen to your father, It's a scary world out there, " He teleported behind you in the opposite direction of where you were facing you, a hand on your shoulder as his shadow morphed into a more terrifying form for you to gasp and shriek at. 

"Father knows best, one way or another something will go wrong-- I swear!" You couldn't help but stumble a few steps back in shock and fear from seeing that shadow again, causing you to trip over your feet and end up getting thrown by gravity down to the floor in a sit-up position.

"Oh look! Sloppy, underdressed, immature, clumsy, please--" he walked up to you, bending down to grab your hand once more to pull you up harshly. His eyes glowing while closely meeting yours as his shadow laughed in the background menacingly "They'll eat you up alive!"

As he playfully shouted his words in that familiar sing-song melody that you couldn't exactly tap into at this moment, he yet continued to hold up your right hand up in the air and the other proceeded to hold your left.. he was now twirling you around across the hall diverting slightly far from your open hotel room as if you were both dancing in a mix of 30s and classic ballroom dancing. You tried to push him away but his grip was fierce and the sudden dancing confused you, making you unable to properly think about your next move.

"Father's right here, father will protect you, darling here's what I suggest!" He then finally stopped at the foot of your door, your vision getting a bit woozy from the intense spinning Alastor put you through. "Skip the drama, stay with papa--"

"Alastor for fucks sake!-" you finally exclaimed, rubbing your eyes and taking a moment to relax your eyes to recover from your previous state.

"I can handle myself! I know ways to protect my own skin and none of them involve you!" You panted as you stomped your way back in your given room, this time gripping the door handle with a grip you've never had before. 

"Now go do whatever it is you do, and leave me alone!" you slammed the door in his face and locked it as quickly as you could, eventually throwing your bag on your new and neat bed with a huff. 

You've never felt so much anger before since you were living and breathing-- these complicated emotions rising in you like a volcano that sat dormant for centuries until finally erupting and exploding fire and skin-melting magna. This all came out with you lashing out and now even wanting to tear up a bit since you always hated fighting-- with him, with anyone. It hurt. More than it should have. 

You simply crawled on your bed and held yourself, knees up to your chest and arms around your knees. Comforting yourself in the only way you knew how.

God, you hoped this trip in the end turned out to be worth it.

Alastor on the other hand simply smirked, your stubbornness will be no match to his own and he will be sure of that.

"Goodness. Even after all these years, the temper tantrums will never cease." He let out a small pitched 'hm' as he turned on his heel to head back to the Princess of Hell and help her with her next few plans with the battle against the exorcists. 

Unbeknownst to them, a pair of eyes noticed and witnessed the father and daughter's interaction in the hall.

Back to you,

Curled up in your hotel room you then decided to crawl over to your traveling bag, scrambling over to open it and hastily take out a few things like a smaller bag full of toiletries, clothes, and even your personal first aid box for emergencies. 

All would be put aside only for your hand to be looking for one thing in particular, hidden under all your neatly packed items was a journal you brought from back up in heaven to document events to keep your thoughts in place, help you cope with changes, and just as a way to express your emotions in a healthy way and you knew you would need these more during these next few weeks. 

Opening the hard cover your eyes were met with a small paper pocket that you taped up in order to save photographs and small thin memory trinkets. 

You smiled softly, your other hand then went to look at the side of your bag to take yet another photograph, it was the one you put in right before leaving your home to get to hell. 

Placing that photo on the cover of your bed, then taking out your photos that were inside that small pocket of your book you then spread them out all beside each other on your bed.

Six exact photos you had, each correlating to a specific memory you adored dearly.

First five photos were favorite memories of yours, some were of when you were hanging out with Sera, St. Peter, and other court member friends of yours. Either at picnics, libraries, shops, restaurants, etc. 

The last two were more than important to you though, they were two portrait pictures of her and you.

She was a much older woman, she died around the time you were born but never have you felt like someone was more like family in heaven than she did. Unfortunately you never had the chance to meet her until you were in heaven but at the same time after making an intense realization when getting to know her better it's as if you knew her your entire life. 

She was one of your favorite people, but one of your most painful reminders.

Your hand grazed over those two photos, your hand trying so hard not to clench them due to how many fucking things are setting in place, connecting to each other.

"I'll be back, I promise." you spoke to the images of her sitting beside her with her kind smile, you could see him through her smile as well "I'm sorry I never got to tell you what he did, who he really is.. you don't deserve the pain that comes with it if I did.."

You teared up, decades of guilt overwhelming you in this single moment. "I'm sorry grandmother, that he turned out this way.. that he did this to me."

You had no reason to apologize, no reason at all.

But she was so good to you, she recognized your last name but you couldn’t bear to ever tell her the truth and that guilt haunted you yet you reassured yourself it’s better to keep her from knowing who he really is with how highly she speaks of him. 

She treated you as if you were her own flesh and blood. She gave you a home as well up in heaven, took care of you.. guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.

How can someone like him, with a mother like her, turn out the way he did.

How.. sad, that truly is.

—---------------------------------------

You were sixteen years of age when this specific event occurred.

You have always been a good kid, always done as you've been told such as '____ dear don't forget to wash your dishes today', '_____ don't forget about your school work.', 'get in bed now young lady, you still have a bedtime you know', and '______ dear you're a bit too young to read the news don't you think? read this instead, more appropriate for young girls your age!'

You have always done what your father told you, followed every rule he sets, avoided every thing he didn't want you to do. 

Although.. whenever you did something you weren't supposed to was where you slightly feared him. He never yelled, never was one to do so. He was always a gentleman and as kind as he could be, although most of it for show. 

One thing he always was, is being passive aggressive. 

Passive aggressiveness was one of his many strong suits, and using words to get you to fear and to avoid doing what you were not meant to do was his specialty. You always wanted to please your father, for you knew that your entire life was the way it was because he chose to be responsible for you. This didn't happen much though because you just always followed what he ordered.

But sometimes being too obedient can be tiring and you were starting to get a little brave recently.

You see, your father has never allowed you in his home office for as long as you could remember, for all you knew he only took you inside when you were a baby with no total awareness. 

Why were you never allowed in his study?

You were.. actually never sure yourself, at least not until the days leading up to your death.

You were always told it was because it was his private space where he wants to keep everything neat and tidy, and that he wants his work space where he saves and writes anything for his radio show in there and that anyone on the outside would simply ruin the ambiance inside that helps him work.. or whatever.

Although, the older you got and the more conscious you gained you eventually thought that this rule is kind of.. stupid? It's just a study but.. you just guessed that whatever your father said was true.

On this particular day though, you wanted to give him a surprise! Only issue was that it included the study..

It was the day before Alastor's birthday, and you just wanted to check his schedule without being too obvious at all to make sure you had time to slip his gift either in his bedroom or sent to his radio studio.. so you decided to quickly slip into his study and check it really fast and leave!..

You spent the entire month before to find someone and commission for them to make a portrait painting with you, Alastor, and his mother in a single frame. Even giving photos of your father and your grandmother for them to reference, due to the lack of colors at the time with photographs it was more of a monochrome painting at best. This would be your birthday gift to him.

You waited for him to leave for work for his evening broadcast and you just came from school, pretending to be reading a book you were assigned to while laying on your bed and relaxing.

Alastor knocked at your door, letting out a quick 'come in!' In reply, he opened it for only his face to pop out of your door with his iconic smile.

"Hello darling! Just wanted to let you know I'll be off to do my next broadcast! Don't forget to tune in soon if you don't have any school work to do."

"Yes father, see you soon!"

"See you soon sweetheart! if I'm late for dinner there's always some leftovers."

He waved at you before closing your door and leaving a bit hastily despite being very early. You stayed as silent as possible till you heard his footsteps distancing away and finally.. that distant loud click of the front door.

You got moving, dropping the book on the bed without a care while scrambling up and opening the door to your room, your feet pitter pattering across the hall and down in front of the study, your hand reaching towards the doorknob in excitement. 

Until you stopped.

'What if he finds out? do you think he'll notice the slightest change at all?.. would he yell or get mad?.. ground me?.. he's never grounded me much but..' your hand inched closer to the knob, the moment your fingertips touched the wooden texture that's when you knew you weren't going to turn back.

'well.. it's a huge surprise for him.. it's just checking his work schedule without him knowing so he won't have a clue I have a surprise for him, it'll be easy!..' 

And finally your fingers wrapped around the doorknob and finally opened the entrance to the study with sudden anticipation while the creek coming from the door only caused goosebumps up your arms.

The room itself was dark and smelled of old wood from the floorboards and dusty papers, speaking of the floors they creeped like crazy with each hesitant step you took inside while your eyes scanned the entire foreign environment. 

Your eyes managed to make out in the middle of the room a large cushioned chair positioned in front of an even larger wooden desk that was wide enough as a school principal's desk would be. Approaching it you now got to see more clearer details like several papers and folders being sprawled around the space, two half empty cups of his usual coffee, pens in pen holders and laid with the papers,.

Your eyes looked up to see the wooden walls organized with draped over portraits of Alastor himself as a kid, others of paintings of his mother that you haven't seen besides the one in the living room and the photos he showed you, and.. one of you as a toddler.. your eyes couldn't help but linger at that particular portrait of you that you have never seen.

You looked down at the desk again to look for his work schedule since all you knew was that it was in some leather journal you saw him carry before.

But you were yet again met with a framed photo standing on his desk and it was one of you as a baby! You've seen baby photos of yourself but never one of where you literally were still sleeping in the crib.. you couldn't help but smile. 

But you went back to work, opening the squeaky drawers filled with hardcover books, folders with dates and names of several shows he's done before. 

Looking at one of the drawers nearest to the ground on the right hand side was where you found even more photos of you as a baby! And even others of himself growing up and some of his mother, your heart warmed at the thought of your father always keeping his family in mind. 

And how amazing was it that the leather journal you were looking for to finally show up! 

Taking it out with great anticipation you skimmed through the pages of his endless paragraphs and paragraphs of letters and numbers.. suddenly stopping at a particular page where there were.. stains.. they looked almost black in the dark but by squinting your eyes you can barely tell a dark hue of red.. you stood up to see if there was a small lamp on the desk that you missed but right as yo--

"What are you doing here."

Alastor's voice boomed across the room startling you to the point where the journal closed and almost jumped out of your arms as you gasped.

Your eyes darted at the door which didn't seem to hear the creek open the way it did when you came in, covered in darkness was Alastor of course.. his eyes and smile seemingly piercing through the darkness as his figure was illuminated from the light in the halls.

"Father!-- I.. I'm.. I just wanted to--" He interrupted you not by speaking, but by walking in and the creeks from the wooden floors seemed more threatening than when you first heard them. The closer he got the more your shoulders raised up.. "Look I'm sorry I just wanted to see your work schedule, that's all!.."

"Darling." god even the way he pulled on the chain attached to the lamp made it scary as well.. "You have never disobeyed me before, how can I work comfortably now?"

"I'm.. I'm sorry.." 

Alastor's aura seemed to at least lighten up with the lamp now.. god.

"Guess I always knew this day was coming.." he shook his head in disappointment, "knew that soon you'd want to leave the nest."

"But I--"

"Soon, but not yet. Trust me, pet."

"But father! I just wanted to look at your work schedule.."

"And you could've asked, not sneaked in like some thief.. I never raised you that way." Despite how the situation is though.. he had his eerie permanent smile on his face which only confused you more.

"You see my dear, by disobeying me even in the simplest of things only calls for danger. Unnecessary trouble to lure and latch onto you. Trouble in which even I won't protect you from."

Why was he talking like this?.. you were unsure.. but you knew that he was leading on to make some kind of point.. but in a sing-song type of approach. 

It wasn't uncommon for him to sing lessons to you at this age or whatever age you and him were, it's a common thing to you that his theatrics were an everyday thing.. it's how you learned how to sing yourself.

He continued, "Gullible, naive, positively grubby, ditzy, and a bit.. well.. hmm.. vague!"

You shook your head in confusion, him taking himself beside you to then shine you the most.. warming smile yet. The mixed signals were insane.

Seeing your confusion he only intensified it more "oh but darling I'm just saying cause' I love you, father understands, father's here to help you, all I have is one request!..” he spun around you as he ended up facing you and holding your hands in his, finally pulling you in a warm hug. oh wow.. he was never one to say ‘I love you’ much.. This total change was whiplash at its finest. 

You melted in the hug quite easily as you were always an affectionate child, plus you wanted to get rid of the guilt by just.. hoping he would forget what you tried to do. 

“_____?”

“Yes?..” 

The energy changed.

“Don’t ever come back into my study, again.”

“I..” you were speechless.. you were starting to question his authority slightly more than ever but.. “Yes father..”

“Oh I love you very much dear..”

You smiled slightly despite the stern scold he gave just now, but he was also never one to hug much so this made you feel nice.. 

“I love you more..” you could almost feel Alastor slowly grab onto the journal you were holding and tucked it in his coat which he usually wore out to work. 

“I love you most.” Backing away from the embrace with his hands on your shoulders he also gave you an uncharacteristically yet fatherly peck on your forehead and hairline which was only saved for when he’s tucking you in at night and he’s having a good day. 

Leaving behind a small ‘peck’ sound. It was almost kinda awkward the way he stood, it was as if he was trying to make it convincing with how fast it was too. 

“Don’t forget it!” He smiled at you brightly as he raised up a finger to only move it side to side.

“You’ll regret it.. Father! Knows best..” he gave you simply two pats on the head with his palm and his book in his jacket due to how swiftly he took it from your hands. 

Leading you out the door with a swift motion of him pulling you by your wrist and into the hall once more.. this time making a mental note as he closed the door behind him to get a proper lock for his study next time.

He then immediately started scrambling out the door, “Oh well look at the time! Almost late for work! I’ll see you in a while, my flower! Remember, I trust you! Don’t break it again! Would be a shame if that were your gift for my birthday!..” Cheerfully announcing across the house as he finally reached the door to pop out in the wide world again.

Why did he come back? You could only assume he forgot the journal you were holding before..

You sighed, biting the inside of your cheek with your eyes wanting to water. “I just wanted to give you your gift perfectly..”

Arms crossed, you went back into your room and sat at the foot of your bed. Somberly regretting your terrible decisions..

‘Can't believe you broke his trust like that!.. and a day before his birthday??.. you must be out of your mind _____.’ Eyebrows turn down with a sad little frown on your face.

‘Although..’ your thoughts led you to look out the doorway of your room and into the dark hall. 

‘Is there anything else he’s trying to hide?..’

(HEYYYY thank you for reading chapter 6!! This was a total blast to write ✨ had so much fun trying to add a bit more detail into Alastor since he is still a serial killer, and he does this all out of love but it can definitely come out more.. manipulative. Whether he does it on purpose or not kinda depends on how you want to see it but personally he does it on purpose because he knows it’ll keep his daughter at bay qwq -and yes! I used tangled songs because personally I felt like it really emulated this side of him so ya!! He loves her to death but isn’t afraid at all to pull strings.)

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Just Take It | Jeon Jungkook | Part Two

Summary: The morning after the disaster that was your engagement party has got your head pounding and you're not even sure what your next move is gonna be. Pairing: Inexperienced f!reader x Best Friend's Dad Jungkook (20 year age gap) Word Count: 5k~ Warnings: Explicit Language (maybe idk I can't remember lol) an argument and idk that's kinda it lol and ofc barely edited lmao a/n: I'm putting out part 2 early as a thank you for all the notes and just the over all interaction you all have given my blog and this story so thank you. I've barely written anything for part 3 so there's gonna be a bigger gap between uploads so forgive me but be sure to check out my other stories as well in the meantime 🥰 Requested by: @kkusadmirer 💜

Hearing the birds outside is the first thing that brings me out of the dream state I had been in. I open my eyes and scan my surroundings and notice that I'm still at Jungkook's house. "What happened last night?" I say aloud, rubbing my eyes and sitting up before laying back down, getting an instant head rush.

"Y/n?" I hear Jungkook from the other side of door. "Come in" I say before thinking twice, not remembering anything about what happened last night. "Good morning sunshine" he says quietly, walking in with a glass of water and pain killers and I sit up slowly as he comes closer.

"How did I end up in here?" I ask and wordlessly thank him and take it real quick and start chugging the water while waiting for his response. "I carried you" he replies leaving me choking at the image.

"You carried me in here?" I ask, embarrassed that he had to take care of me like that. "Yeah you pretty much passed out on me so I kinda had to" he laughs, rubbing my back hoping to help me stop coughing. "I'm sorry I kinda don't remember anything" I admit and I see his face fall a little leaving me panicking again.

"Did I do something stupid?" I cringe and he laughs at whatever memory he has leaving me even more nervous. "No don't worry you were just being cute" he teases and I let out a breath I had been holding, thankful I didn't make too much of a fool of myself, or at least by his standards.

"I'm sorry I guess I lost control a bit" I say, looking down at my hands, embarrassed that I had given him so much trouble to deal with. "You know you say sorry a lot for someone who doesn't really have anything to be sorry about" he say and I sigh, not believing his words but not having the energy or brain capacity to argue.

"Hey" he says, tilting my chin up to look at him, you're fine y/n don't worry. I'm just glad you let me be there for you. I couldn't let you leave in the state you were in so thank you for trusting me to take care of you" he says while rubbing his thumb up against my cheek and all I can do in response is blink, so caught off guard by the sudden skin ship.

"Are you hungry?" he asks, letting go of my chin and taking the water glass from my hand. "Yes and no. Honestly I feel like I'm gonna throw up" I admit without thinking twice. "I mean I-"

"It's okay, you really did drink a lot so I'm not surprised. Let me at least make you some soup so you have something in your system" he says and I nod which satisfies him. "I'll let you know when it's ready" he continues and I nod again, watching as he makes his way out.

I hold my head in my hands, begging for the medicine to kick in so this pounding in my head goes away.  Although I know though that the onset stress of not knowing what happened last night is the real cause of this headache. 'What happened last night?' I question myself silently this time, going through everything that happened yesterday but the part after me coming back inside the house after everyone left is still a little fuzzy.

I sit and think for a little while longer and before I know it Jungkook is knocking on the door again. "Foods ready" he says with a sweet smile making me forget how exactly I'm supposed to respond. "Is everything okay?" he asks, coming to sit on my side of the bed. "I just, I really don't remember what happened last night" I say and he nods and thinks for a second before responding.

"How about this, lets get some food in you first and get you feeling a bit better and then I'll tell you. Okay?" he offers, tilting his head at me and I nod after thinking for a second or two. "Great, now can you get out there on your own or do you think you need some help?" he asks and I quickly go to shut down his offer.

"No Jungkook that's okay I can manage" I say and throw the covers off of me and slowly get up off the bed and I hear him chuckle a bit. "What are you laughing at?" I ask, confused as to if he's making fun of me or not.

"No, no it's nothing. I'm just surprised you called me Jungkook on your own this time" he says as I start to stand and my heart rate picks up, not even realizing I had done that. "Well you wanted me to call you that right?" I ask shyly, but I lose my footing when I stand up, still a bit weak to my dismay but before I have a chance to fall Jungkook catches me and pulls me onto his lap.

"I-" I start but am caught off by the proximity and the memories of last night start to flood my brain and I rest my head on his shoulder just like I did before I passed out.

I groan and he laughs at my reaction, "It all coming back to you isn't it?" he asks and I nod, not daring to make eye contact with him. "I can't believe I asked you to do that. I'm sorry" I say and try to get off his lap but he pull me back on it with his hands that are firmly placed on my hips.

"Hey, you didn't do anything wrong" he says, brushing the hair that had fallen on my face out of the way. If I couldn't breathe before I definitely can't breathe now, especially since I catch him looking down at my lips before quickly flipping them back to my eyes.

"Okay" is all I can manage to choke out and before he's able to do anything else I quickly get up off his lap and walk out of the room, needing to break the tension that had started to build between us.

'What the fuck am I doing? Kissing my best friend...well ex best friend's dad? Like what the fuck is wrong with me?' I walk into the bathroom in the hallway to get an extra five minutes alone so I can try to stop my heart from racing. Who would've thought that in less than twenty four hours I would have a mental breakdown not once, but twice in this same bathroom. 'Why does this shit always have to happen to me?'

After taking a few more breaths and washing my face I walk into the kitchen where I see Jungkook enjoying his morning cup of coffee, or should I say afternoon cup of coffee as I check the clock seeing it's already past two.

"Did I really sleep this late?" I ask, cringing at the thought of yet again inconveniencing him. "Yeah but don't worry I was planning on having a lazy day anyways" he says, reading my mind and motioning for me to sit down at one of the stools on the island he has in his kitchen.

He turns his back to me and starts preparing me a bowl of soup but I can help but check him out, his strong broad shoulders that lead down to his small waist and accompanied by his ass and thick thighs I could just-

"Here you go" he say, placing the bowl in front of me and I quickly bring my eyes to the food he's given me. It smells strangely like home, almost as if my mom had made it for me when I had been sick as a kid. "Thank you" I say quietly and take a bite, moaning at the warm and rich flavor that hits my tongue without even realizing what I'd done.

"That good huh?" he asks while leaning back on one of the counters with his arms crossed over his chest. "Oh- um, yeah. Yes, thank you" I say, quickly tripping over my words but he just smiles before taking another sip of coffee and I quickly go back to eating my soup. This time quietly.

"So what are you planning on doing?" he asks casually after I've finished eating, as if I know what he's talking about. "What do you mean?" I question after taking a drink of water, him having refused to give me a cup of coffee until I had at least drank two cups of water.

"You live with my daughter right?" he questions and my whole mood turns upside down. He takes notice of it and quickly back pedals, "I guess I should've waited for you to wake up a bit more before asking you that" he says, now offering me an apology cup of coffee.

"No it's okay you're right. I probably should figure out what I'm gonna do. To be honest I think I'll move out. Just because being in the same space that I used to spend time with them in just sounds like I'm setting myself up for heartbreak" and he nods at my reasoning but I decide to continue anyways, verbally processing it all.

"If I stay there I'll be reminded of all the good times we had and the many memories we made together and I don't want to be haunted by those images. Plus a fresh start sounds perfect to me" I say and he continues while adding the perfect amount of milk and sugar to my coffee, weirdly.

"So are you just going to stay there until you find a place?" he asks and I think about how awkward it's going to be just working around her until I find that perfect place. "I was thinking I could probably ask my sister if I could crash at her place for a bit" I say thinking of the first solution that comes to mind.

"But doesn't your sister live on the opposite side of the city from your internship?" he questions and I slump at that realization. "You're right. I guess I'll just have to wake up a bit earlier" I say, trying to figure out how to remedy this problem full well knowing it's been hard enough for me to wake up and get there on time even though I only lived ten minutes away.

"Why don't you stay here?" he offers and my whole body straightens up instantly, "You would let me stay here?" I ask, my eyebrows raised as high as they possibly could, surprised that he would even offer something like that and he nods in response.

"You would let me stay here?" I question again, clarifying if I heard him right. "Yeah why not? I've got plenty of space and it's not like we're strangers or anything. Plus your internship is only about ten minutes further from here than where you live now" he says, making good points as to why I should take him up on the offer.

"I couldn't possibly do that to you. I mean I wouldn't want to disturb your life like that. But thank you!" I say, shutting down the idea right away but he persists nonetheless.

"Again, I wouldn't offer if I didn't want to. You're more than welcome to stay here and you can even move upstairs into one of the bigger bedrooms. Plus I have a storage unit that I haven't really used so you can store any big pieces of furniture you might have" he continues, trying to convince me even more and when he sees that I am about to refuse again he comes up with a compromise.

"Stay one more night. Tomorrow's Sunday right? That way you won't have to worry about work or anything like that so we can just relax and talk about things over today and tomorrow and then you can decide what you'd like to do" he says and it gets me to think about it for a second which makes him hopeful and ultimately I end up accepting.

"I guess I could stay one more night" I say and he gives me a half smile which some how makes me more nervous than a full one and so I take the first sip of my coffee that has honestly gone cold by now.

"Perfect. Did you want me to go take you to your place to pick up some clothes that you might need?" he questions, jumping at the opportunity to be helpful. "No that's okay. I drove here so I have my car out front" I say, shutting his next offer down but he make another good point that has me second guessing myself.

"Are you sure you want to drive when you're hungover? I don't think I can let you do that" he says, falling into a protective mode which is endearing but I don't think I could take advantage of him like that since he's already done so much for me. "I'll be fine Jungkook don't worry" I say and he nods his head respecting my choice and I let out a breath, happy that I don't have to fight him on this one too.

"Okay, did you want to borrow some more of my clothes so you can shower before you go?" he questions and I smile awkwardly, happy that he offered but guilty that he yet again is helping me out.

"I'll be back in a sec" he chuckles and walks past me, placing a hand on my back as he passes by which makes me sit up straight at the feeling and I watch him as he jogs upstairs to go retrieve said clothes.

He comes down seconds later with the clothes, a towel and even a toothbrush in hand. "Thought you might want one of these too" he says and I accept it all sheepishly before excusing myself and making my way into the bathroom.

How am I even supposed to act in this kind of situation? Like my ex best friend's dad who I kissed last night while I was drunk is now offering to let me stay here so I can move out of the apartment I share with his toxic daughter that my boyfriend cheated on me with. Like this is just way too much weirdness for me.

I shake off those thoughts and get in the shower to quickly get rid of all of these roaming thoughts and just hope and pray that somehow things will work out and I can settle into a new normal with my own place as soon as possible but I guess that luck just isn't on my side these days...

~~~~

After getting out of the shower and getting dressed I dry my hair with the hair dryer I happened to find under the sink and try to make myself look as presentable as possible so when I go back home I don't look like the complete mess that I know I am on the inside.

There's no reason I should be showing any kind of weakness around Jina or Jared so I just need to get in and get out of there as fast as I can so I can avoid as much awkwardness as possible. Being hungover doesn't help this situation in the slightest so I just really hope that she's not even there.

Walking out of the bathroom I'm met with a freshly clean Jungkook, scrolling through his phone while sitting on the couch and he quickly turns his head once he notices I've finished up.

"You feeling okay" he asks, always concerned for my wellbeing and I guess I just need to chalk it up to the parent side of him. Maybe that's all this is? Maybe Jina hasn't really given him an opportunity to be her dad in a while so he's just seeing me as another daughter he wants to take care of. That makes a lot more sense so thinking about it now I think I can go into this with a lot clearer mindset than before.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a lot better thankfully" I say and head to the guest room where I stayed last night. "If you wanna just throw all of that into the washing machine I'll get a load going later on" he calls after me and I simply do as he asks and then head back into said bedroom.

"Hey Jungkook have you seen my phone?" I question while throwing the blankets around, trying to figure out where I could've put it. "Yeah you left it out in the living room last night so I put it on the charger when I woke up. Here" he says and I jolt at the sound of his voice being in the room with me, full on expecting him to still be on the couch.

"Thank you" I say while holding my hand out to take it with the other one placed over my heart, trying to calm down after the shock of him getting here so quickly. "Sorry I didn't mean to scare you" he chuckles and I wave off his apology, not seeing any need for it. "It's fine don't worry about it" I say and once I unlock it I see call after call after call after call from not only Jared but Jina, my mom and my sister, with just as many text messages to match.

"Looks like you're really popular today" he jokes, trying to make light of the situation. "Not for the right reasons" I mumble and lock my phone, not bothering to sift through the hundreds of notifications just yet.

"I've gotta head out and get a few things at the store so why don't you come with me? We can stop by your place to get your things and then this way you can help me pick out some groceries so we have stuff that you like as well" he says while grabbing his keys and instead of trying to refuse I simply nod and follow him outside.

We get in the car and drive silently to my place but once we get a bit closer I stop him. "Would you mind parking around the corner? It's just...well I don't want Jina to see you driving me around and make a big deal about it" he nods his head and without a fuss pulls into the coffee shop parking lot around the corner.

"Is this alright?" he questions and I nod and get out of the car. "Let me know if you need any help. She's my daughter so it's not like she would do anything drastic if I was around" he says, referring to her sometimes short temper. Plus with these added hormones there's no telling how she gonna be reacting to things now that everything is out in the open.

As I make my way to the apartment I check my phone to see if she's still sharing her location with me and thankfully she is and I see that she's still at work so hopefully if move fast enough I should be in and out before she comes home.

Walking into the apartment it looks as though she's started gathering her own stuff up in boxes, almost as if she's getting ready to move out. I appreciate the fact that since she fucked up that she automatically volunteered to move out but she's more than welcome to keep this place as far as I'm concerned.

I jog back into my room, reminding myself of the task at hand and I grab my duffle bag and start putting as many things as I think I'll need to get me through at least a few days in case anything happens. Better safe than sorry right?

My last stop is the bathroom where I pack up my shampoo and conditioner as well as my skincare products and throw it all into a plastic bag that I'm able to place easily on top of the rest of the items in the bag but before I'm even able to finish getting the rest of my toiletries together I'm greeted with the sound of Jina walking in.

"Y/n?" she calls out and I swear under my breath, trying to think of a way to make this whole situation as quick and painless as possible. "Y/n?" she says again, rounding the corner and finding me in the bathroom where I've started to pick up the pace and throw things in haphazardly wanting to get the fuck out already.

"What are you doing?" she questions me and I walk past her and back into my room and throw the bag in my duffle bag and zip everything up. "Please don't ignore me" she says in pretty much the most pitiful voice I've ever hear out of her and I scoff and roll my eyes. "You don't have the right to be acting like that. I'm moving out so don't bother moving out if you want the apartment" I say and throw on a baseball hat and walk out of my room and make a b line for the front door.

"Y/n please talk to me" she pleads and it's taking everything in me not to slap that 'poor me' attitude out of her. "You wanna talk? Let's speed this up for the both of us alright? You slept with my boyfriend behind my back, got pregnant and ruined my relationship and now I'm moving out. That pretty much covers everything if I'm not mistaken so let's just call this conversation over. I'll be back to pick up the rest of my shit later so don't touch anything" I say quickly without giving her a second to get a word in.

"When's later?" she asks and I roll my eyes at her pitiful excuse in trying to keep me here. "Whenever the hell I feel like it Jina. Sorry I can't make everything magically disappear right away" I say and turn to grab the handle but she just keeps going.

"Where are you staying?" she has the audacity to ask and I smile and shake my head at her stupidity. "Why would I ever tell you that? So you can come bother me with your lame excuses of apologizing. Or oh yeah even worse telling Jared where to find me so he can do the same thing. Why don't you guys do all of us a favor and stay the hell out of my life" I say and walk out the door, making sure to slam it right behind me.

While walking back to Jungkook's car I try my best to calm my breathing so I can hide what happened from him. There's no reason why he even needs to know that she showed up so might as well keep it to myself.

As I get closer to his car I watch as he looks up and sees me coming and gets out to grab my bag from me. "Is this everything you wanted?" he questions, taking it from me and placing it in the trunk. "Yep that's everything. Or at least enough to get me through the next few days" I say and get in the car with him following suit soon after.

"Are you okay?" he asks, concern now laced all over his expression. "I'm totally fine, why do you ask?" I question in the most awkward tone of voice I've ever heard come out of me. "Because you're shaking" he points out and grabs one of my hands, holding it between two of his.

"No it's okay I'm fine" I say, my voice now getting wobbly, matching the shakiness of my hands. "Something happened in there didn't it?" he asks and I shake my head but he raises a questioning brow at me which has me nodding a moment later, admitting to what happened. "Jina came home" I say and take a shaky breath in and out, trying to keep myself from crying.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he questions and I quickly shake my head and he nods his and lets go of my hand and turns to start the car and pull out of the parking lot but as soon as we're on the main road again he reaches out for one of my hands and holds onto it again, not letting go until we get to the store.

~~~~~

Grocery shopping with him feels weirdly domestic and felt as though we had done it dozens of times before, with both of our methods on how to shop quickly and efficiently matching up perfectly and so time flies and before I know it we're already putting the groceries away in his kitchen.

"We make a pretty good team huh?" he says and tossing me an apple and I catch it in time, further proving his point. "I guess we do" I say amusedly and take a big bite out of it. "No I'm serious! I swear whenever I go alone I always end up forgetting one of the most obvious ingredients and with your help I don't think I forgot a single thing" he says taking a bite of the apple he had gotten for himself.

"Well I'm glad to have been of some help. I feel bad since you've been doing nothing but taking care of me for the past twenty four hours and I haven't been able to give you anything in return" I admit, twisting the stem of until it pops off.

"You've given me plenty in return" he laughs off, as if I had said something ridiculous. "Oh yeah like what?" I ask, taking another bite of the apple and leaning back against the counter.

"You've definitely given me quite a few laughs today" he says and I scrunch my eyebrows together knowing that he's just making fun of me. "And you've definitely made my day a whole lot more interesting. Plus I learned some new things about you" he says and I gulp at that last part, knowing I've definitely overshared with him quiet a few times.

"Like how you prefer green apples over red. How you prefer white bread over wheat and that you get shy whenever I get close to you" he lists off, the last one obviously catching me off guard.

"I-" I start but I'm frozen in place as he gets closer to me and I just realized how I've backed myself into a corner. "Jungkook I-" I try again but my efforts die in my throat when he places his hands on either side of my hips, trapping me against the counter, staring at me as if he hasn't eaten in weeks.

"Do you wanna tell me why that is?" he asks, tilting his head almost taunting me. "I don't know what you're talking about" I say, doing my best to remain level headed. "You sure about that?" he asks and I nod my head in response, not trusting my voice to stay steady this time. "Then why are you holding your breath?" he says while placing his hand on my neck and using his thumb to press down on my chin, encouraging me to open my mouth which I do with almost no hesitation.

"I don't know" I whisper but he leans in closer, bringing his lips closer to mine. "I think you're lying" he say, his warm breath fanning my face, promises of pleasure hidden behind those words and it has me whimpering at the thought. 

"Y/n, earth to y/n" Jungkook says, bursting the bubble of the incredibly inappropriate daydream I had been having in front of him. "I-i'm sorry what was that?" I stutter, making it clear that I hadn't been paying attention. 

"Maybe you're running a fever" he says, walking over to me and placing the back of his hand to my forehead, his cool hand causing a shiver to run down my spine. "What makes you say that?" I ask, looking up at him, taking in his features from our closer proximity. "Because you're burning up, and your whole face has gone red" he says and I feel my cheeks getting even more red at his observation. 

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks, making purposeful eye contact with me. "Yeah I just, I think I need to go lay down for a while" I say, finding the easiest escape route possible. "That's probably a good idea. I shouldn't have kept you out for so long" he says, guilt clouding his expression and I take one of his hands in mine without giving it a second thought making him jolt for a second but tighten his hold around mine just seconds later. 

"I'm fine don't worry" I say with a small smile, "It was my fault for drinking so much. If I'm ever around you again and there's alcohol involved could you do me a favor and stop me from drinking so much" I laugh, trying to lift his spirits and it seems to do the trick. 

"Of course darling" he says and places a kiss on the center of my forehead. "Now go lay down, you really are burning up" he says, having felt the heat radiating off of me from the kiss he had graced me with. I smile up at him and nod my head before turning around and heading back to my room. 

Living with him might not be so bad. It's been a while since someone's taken care of me or even shown me such simple kindness without needing anything in return. I'm not sure if it would be the smartest decision but I'm definitely warming up to the idea...

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[uglypastels]

Eddie knows you have a voice kink and decides to take advantage of it 👀

(ie not me having a voice kink, absolutely not)

this took me too long but i also tried to rewrite this like four times because ughhhhh you are so fucking real for this one. im obsessed. so yeah, i hope you enjoy it <3 and thank you for the request

warnings: 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. porn without plot, straight from the beginning. voice kink, so obviously dirty talk. fingering. mention of oral (f receiving). mention of p in v sex. bondage. (soft) dom!eddie.

masterlist // inbox //

‘Fuck sweetheart, you look so pretty, all spread out for me like that,’ Eddie smirked as he looked down at you. His hair fell over your face as he leaned in for a soft kiss, and his hands found their place at your hips. You couldn’t help but arch your back, feeling that gravitational pull that Eddie exerted… as the handcuffs dug into your wrists, there was little you could do but thrust your hips his way. 

‘So—fucking—pretty.’ He muttered between kisses over your cheek and jaw. ‘Could put you in a museum. Hang you up like this. Look at you all day.’ His voice was gruff, filled with the sexual frustration you were both tortured with over the past few hours, but the cheek and humour never left him. 

‘Maybe we should, hmm?’ His low hum sent shivers all through your neck and down your spine. ‘Hang you up, I mean. I still got that hook in the ceiling from the–’ 

‘Maybe– maybe next time, Eddie.’ It wasn’t the worst idea he had come up with, but you were so far gone you couldn’t imagine yourself getting out of this bed. All you could focus on was the deep growl of his voice– the meaning of the words barely even settled in your brain. 

‘It’s a deal, baby.’ He smiled and gave you another kiss which you returned with a moan. One of his hands had found its way up to your breast, pressing into the soft skin, thumb roaming over the most sensitive parts. 

‘Eddie,’ you moaned his name out softly, receiving another hum in response. 

‘I know, baby.’ He said after you got stuck on his name for a moment or two. ‘Don’t worry; I’ll make you feel good.’ His kisses were going lower and lower. Peppering your neck, breast, and abdomen. His path was marked out clearly. ‘So, good.’

But you whined in desperation as his lips reached below your stomach. If it hadn’t felt so good, maybe you would have been quicker on the notice, but despite it all, you still had needs. 

Eddie halted in his moves at your word. His grip on you tightened securely, big brown eyes locked in on you, checking for any signs of worry. With everything put on hold, you became more conscious of the fire burning in your body for him. Couldn’t lay still, but Eddie wouldn’t move.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ 

‘I don’t–’ He was so far away, and you couldn’t do anything about it with those damn handcuffs locking you in. They wouldn’t budge even at your hardest pull, and with each second, it was becoming harder and harder to think. ‘Eddie, I–’ 

‘Yeah?’ He rubbed his hand over your thigh. It must have been meant as reassurance, but all the triggers were shot up straight to your core. ‘Baby? Hey, are you still with me?’ 

‘Yes, just...’ You didn’t want to say it. Eddie raised a curious brow as you tried to spit out your wish.

‘Don’t go down on me. Not right now.’

‘Everything good down there?’ He squeezed your thigh a bit harder, a playful grin on his lips again.

‘Yes, it’s fine, fuck me if you want, just not– not with your mouth.’ 

Eddie couldn’t help the small scoff that passed his lips. ‘Ok… may I ask why?’ He tried not to look offended. You knew how much he loved this specific activity, and usually, you did too, but this time, something different got you going. 

‘Because I–’ you huffed out, ‘because I’m getting turned on by you talking right now, so I don’t want you to stop now just to eat me out.’ If you hadn’t been cuffed to the bed posts, you would have hidden underneath the covers in embarrassment. 

There was a second of silence as Eddie processed what you said. He blinked slowly and started to climb his way back up to the head of the bed. Arms on either side of you, locking you in even more. 

His lips were nearly on yours as he spoke again. ‘Speaking of talking, we should do something about this shyness of yours. You know I will do anything for you, princess, so why not just tell me? You’re a big girl, aren’t you?’ 

 ‘Y-yes.’ The small word got caught in your throat. Nevertheless, Eddie rewarded it with a brief kiss.

‘Hmm, so you want me to talk,’ he said after pulling away, ‘what should I talk about?’ 

‘Anything— sex!’ You added quickly, knowing how Eddie could be with his humour. ‘Anything that’s– you know.’ 

‘You want me to say what I wanna do to you? How I’m going to fuck you? Hmm, is that what my princess wants?’ With each word, his voice got deeper, darker. 

‘Yes, please.’  While yours became breathless, encapsulated in moans. ‘Please, Eddie.’

‘God, I love how you beg for me, how you say my name. Gonna make you scream it tonight, baby. You’re gonna be my good girl and scream for me when I stretch your tight little pussy, hmm? Will you do that for me?’

‘Yes, yes, yes.’ You squeaked out the last word when you felt his hand down on you. 

‘Thought so. Always so good for me.’ Eddie slowly started closing his fingers in on your slit, carefully approaching it with his next question too. ‘Would have loved to have my mouth on you now, sweetheart. Lick you fucking up… but my fingers will do for now, won’t they?’ He said it as if the feeling of having him deep inside you wasn’t ecstatic. Like you didn’t daydream about those fingers almost every day. 

 ‘I want them in me, Eddie. Fuck. I need it.’ And as soon as he heard it, Eddie started rubbing those close circles on your clit, getting you even more hot and bothered and ready for what was next to come. 

‘Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.’ He had a Cheshire cat smile across his face as he kept on teasing your slit. ‘All for me? All for my voice?’ 

‘You know it is.’ It wasn’t the first time you expressed your love for how Eddie sounds. You had told him on several occasions he had a hot voice, both on and off stage and in bed, but this time was certainly on a new level. Something in you felt like you could cum just from listening to him. 

‘Perhaps, but I’d still like you to say it.’ He kissed your cheek. 

‘Your voice turns me on so fucking much, Eddie.’ At this moment, he finally decided to insert his fingers and push them deep inside you. ‘Oh, fuck.’

‘I fucking adore you, baby. Taking my fingers so well– shit, I can feel you clenching as I speak. Oh, you really do love it, don’t you? Just wait until I really have my way with you– oh, fuck.’ He chuckled as you reacted to his words and actions. He leaned in so his words would be directly at your ear. Soft but nasty whispers to electrify your whole being. ‘Just imagine how good it will feel when I have my cock inside you, baby. Fill you up and fuck all thoughts out of you. Until you can’t say anything but my name. Until you can’t think about anything but me.’

‘Eddiee,’ you whined as he sped up his movements, making you shake with his fingers alone. 

‘That’s right, baby. C’mon, don’t be scared to be loud. Do you know how hot you fucking sound like this? All fucked out, and because of me? Hmm, want everyone around to know how good you’re being treated here. My princess fucked like a proper queen, aren’t you?’ 

All you could do was nod. You could hear the wetness of your pussy by this point. The tight knot in your stomach was only getting worse, ready to burst, while Eddie had no intention of stopping soon. 

‘Yeah, you’re close, hmm?  Yeah, I can tell. Fuck, c’mon, come for me, baby.’ His was was so deep and aggressive that it felt more like growling. ‘Come on, my fingers. C’mon.’

When it finally happened, your whole body went limp as the pleasure overcame you.

Eddie praised you through it all, his voice now covered in honey. ‘Such a good girl. Fuck, you did so well.’ But it might have all become too much when he pulled his fingers out of you, now glistening in your juices, and put them in his mouth. He hummed with satisfaction at the taste and, once done, smiled wickedly once more and said: ‘Divine, I tell you, sweetheart. Fucking. Divine.’ His hand was soaked up to his wrist, so he went to lick his palm. ‘Might have to go in for more later on either way.’

‘Give me a moment, why don’t you,’ you laughed, out of breath.

‘Of course, of course.’ He kissed your forehead. ‘But don’t think I’m done with you just yet.’ 

the end.

yeah, kinda ironic ending there. lol. sorry.

but thank you so much for reading!! please consider supporting with comments and reblogs <3 (maybe leave a review??) I would love to see what you thought of it <3

[sanguineterrain]

i'll put us back together at heart - s.h.

Summary: It's 1987. You haven't spoken to Steve Harrington in nearly five years. Then Dustin Henderson tells you about a sweet deal he has at Family Video, where he can rent any movie he wants.

Pairing: ex-best friend!Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings/tags: friends to strangers to lovers. the reader is twenty in 1987 and i technically made steve twenty-one/about to turn twenty-one. s4 happened but eddie's alive and vecna's dead. no earthquakes or anything like that; reader has no idea about what really happened. lots of angst, mentions of billy hargrove (yuck) and steve's s1 asshole friends.

A/N: oh my lord. i don't know where this eighteen-wheeler of a fic came from but here it is. there is a happy ending, not to worry. i'd never do that to y'all &lt;3 feedback and reblogs are always always appreciated!

divider by firefly-graphics

August 1981

"I wish we could stay eighth graders forever."

You lift your head from your orange pool floaty. Steve drifts on the surface of the water. His hair is longer, way longer than you've seen it in the three years you've been friends. He says it's better for styling that way; he's even bought a gel and cream for his hair. You don't understand why he wants to change something that doesn't need changing. 

"Why?" you ask. "I thought you were excited for high school."

He hums. The sound echoes in his backyard. 

"It's bigger than middle school. More kids, more teachers, more work. I like eighth grade."

"I'll help you with your work," you say. 

Steve turns his head and smiles at you. Part of his face is in the water, the image distorted. 

"You'll do great," he replies. "You're so smart."

Steve doesn't say those things to get you to help him like other kids do. Steve means it. 

"You'll do great too," you say. "You're funny and nice and my best friend. People will like you."

"You think?" 

You nod. Steve turns his head and closes his eyes again. 

"We'll stay friends, right?" he asks. 

The floaty squeaks as you move to sit up. You paddle to Steve so you can look at his face. 

"Why wouldn't we?"

"I dunno." His eyes are still closed. "You might make super smart friends. And I'll just be a dumbass holding you back."

You shove Steve's shoulder lightly. 

"You are not dumb, Steve."

One muggy June night had had Steve admit he wasn't thirteen, like you and all the kids in your class, but fourteen. He had been held back in third grade after his parents moved from Illinois. It's why my brain's mush, he'd said. I was born dumb.

He had made you swear not to tell anyone. 

"You're not dumb," you say again. "Say it, Steve. Say you're not dumb."

His frown deepens, but he still won't look at you. 

"Tommy says I am."

"Tommy Hagan is a shithead," you shoot back with so much venom, Steve's eyes fly open. "It's not true, whatever he tells you."

You hate that they've been hanging out more this summer. You can't tell Steve that, because it's not like you own him. He can be friends with whoever he wants. But you can't help that your skin crawls when Tommy and his stupid girlfriend, Carol, drops by and pulls Steve away from you. 

“Promise?” he asks.

“Yes, Steve. I promise.”

“‘Kay.” Steve smiles a little. “Thanks.” 

You nod and lay back on the floaty. 

“Wanna get ice cream after this?” he asks. 

“Just us?” 

“Just us.”

Now. (January, 1987)

You slam the phone back onto the receiver. A girl playing Pac-Man carefully glances at you. 

Whoops. Right. You're still at work. 

You smile and give a thumbs-up. She turns around. You return to your wallowing. 

You’ve called three different video rentals. Jewel Films, which is about to go out of business; More Movies, whose attendant hung up on you before you could say Molly Ringwald; and finally, Blockbuster, which is thirty minutes outside of Hawkins. None of them have a copy of Pretty in Pink. 

And okay. You could just watch another movie. You don't need that specific one. But this year has been shit. You'd thought after starting college, you'd finally break out of the Hawkins forcefield that had limited your social life. You'd thought you'd make friends and not be so terribly lonely. Life is supposed to get better after high school, isn’t it? 

Obviously, whoever said that is a big, fat liar. 

“Dude!” you hear a familiar voice exclaim. “Stop hogging the game!”

Tawny curls peek from under a green and yellow hat. The hat hovers over an older boy who’s glued to the Tempest booth. You go to them. Dustin Henderson lights up when he sees you. You can read his hat now; it says Camp Know Where ‘85.

“Hey, Y/N!” he greets brightly. “This guy has been here for a half hour. I left to get nachos and when I came back, he was still here.”

“I’m this close to beating my score!” the kid insists.

“Come on, guy," you say, one arm on the machine. "You gotta give other people a turn."

The kid, evidently demon incarnate, sneers at you.

“Who’s gonna make me? You?” 

You lean against the side of the game, considering.

“How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” he says.

You snort. 

“Sixteen? And you’re still on Tempest?”

He glances at you. 

“So?”

“Everybody your age is playing Rampage, that’s all.” 

You wink at Dustin. He beams.

“And, uh, I saw a couple girls hanging around Rampage,” you add. 

The kid turns to you. You tilt your head innocently. 

“Seriously?” he asks.

“Seriously. People always flock to the new games.”

Which is true. The girls part is not, but he doesn’t need to know that. With that attitude, he won't be getting many phone numbers anyway. 

You drum your fingers on the game like you have all the time in the world. And sure enough, the kid takes his quarters and heads towards Rampage. Dustin jumps in delight. 

“You’re awesome, Y/N!" 

You grin. “I try. Where are the others?”

Dustin sours.

“They ditched me. To hang out with their girlfriends! Can you believe that shit?” 

“No way!"

He shakes his head.

“I know, right? My friend told me that that’s what happens in high school. People change, y’know? And he’d know, I guess. He’s old like you.”

You scoff. “You make me sound like some kind of ancient. I’m not that old, Henderson.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He pats your arm. “In many cultures, the elderly are wise. Now in my experience, this hasn’t been the case. But I think you’re wise.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Dustin smiles like the little shit he is and puts his change in the slot. 

“Well, contrary to what this other friend says, I’m sure it’ll pass,” you say. “You guys will hang out again." 

You swallow your acidic truth. Dustin's a good kid, and so are his friends. You don't want him to turn cynical like you have. He's too young. 

Dustin shrugs, starting the game.

“I guess so. I got a copy of The Lost Boys for us to watch on Friday. They said they’ll be there.”

“Whoa, seriously? That one just came out, how’d you get a copy?”

“My friend,” he says. “The one I mentioned. He works at Family Video and reserves stuff for me.”

“Huh. I thought Family Video was closed."

You'd applied to work there last year and never got a call back. You'd gone by once and it had looked abandoned. Hence why you now work at the arcade across town. 

"It almost did, but Keith took over so now it's barely scraping by."

"Ah. Sweet deal on the movies."

“Yeah,” Dustin agrees, eyes crinkling. “My friend's pretty cool. You'd like him."

"Would I now?"

"Absolutely," he gushes. "He's a total badass too. He won his first fight last year. He used to be a jock but he's recovered." 

"Wow. Impressive."

"Mmhm. I could ask him to hold stuff for you too, if you wanted.”

“You would?”

The game makes a sad game over noise. Dustin sighs and takes a gulp of his slushie.

“Yeah, totally,” he says through a mouthful of blue raspberry ice. “Which one do you want?”

“Pretty in Pink? I missed it in theaters."

“Sure. I’ll tell him to hold it tonight and tomorrow you can pick it up.”

“Cool. Thanks, Dustin.”

Dustin gives you an apple-cheeked grin.

“Gotta stay in good graces with the arcade attendant who lets me play Tempest as long as I want.”

"I don't know what you're talking about," you say, walking away. "Don't get slushie on the game."

"'Kay!"

Dustin only gets a little bit of slushie on the game, but he cleans it up with about a million of the cheap snack bar napkins. When he leaves, he tells you to mention his name at Family. 

"Who do I ask for?" 

"You can talk to either of them," Dustin says. "Doesn't matter. Except Keith. You know Keith, right?"

"Unfortunately.” Keith used to terrorize the arcade before he blessedly moved on. “He works there?"

"Barely." Dustin scoffs. "He's almost never there, so don't worry. And feel free to ask for more movies. They owe me one."

Your sole interactions are with professors and a gaggle of high school freshmen. But now you get to watch any movie you want. Maybe this year won't totally suck. 

The bell rings pleasantly as you step inside. There's a few people on line, so you take your time walking in. There's a movie display with about thirty copies of RoboCop. A cardboard cutout of RoboCop stares back behind his red helmet.

"Can I help who's next?"

You go to the counter. A girl about your age with a choppy haircut smiles at you but it's sort of strained. She has a pin on her green work vest that says Ask me!

"Please don't ask for Adventures in Babysitting," she says. 

"Oh. No, I'm, uh, Dustin's friend?" 

You can't believe you're name-dropping a high schooler. 

She nods in realization. 

"Oh, yeah. God, I keep telling that dweeb not to promise holds."

You wince. 

"Sorry. If it's going to get you in trouble…"

Her brows raise. She smiles a bit. 

"No, it's okay. Usually my coworker deals with it but, well. He's taking an extra long break today. So, what movie was it?"

"Pretty in Pink," you say. 

"Classic," she replies. "John Hughes fan?"

"Somewhat. I didn't get to see it in theaters. I like Molly Ringwald."

She grins.

"Me too. She's pretty."

"Super pretty," you agree. 

The girl considers you, then sticks out her hand. 

"I'm Robin," she says. "Nice to meet you."

You take her hand. "Y/N.”

"Did you go to Hawkins High?"

"I did. Graduated last year."

"Oh, cool. Are you in college?"

You nod. 

"Hawkins State. Twenty minutes from here."

"Sweet! I'm taking a gap year, but afterwards, I’m gonna apply there. It's cheap. College is college, right?"

"College is college," you agree. "But I wish I'd gone away for school."

You don't know why you're telling her this. You've known Robin for all of two minutes. But she seems friendly. And her sense of style is cool. She wears a blue blazer and tie underneath her vest. 

"How come?" she asks. 

"Everybody from Hawkins is there," you say. "And I… I just want a new start."

Robin smiles sympathetically. 

"They're jerks," she says. 

You huff. "Yeah."

You'd turned yourself into a social recluse a million years ago. It's your own damn fault you can't befriend anybody in this town. At least, not anymore. 

Robin types into the computer, then smacks the monitor. She groans. 

"Ugh. Gimme a second," she says. "Stupid technology."

"No problem," you say, smiling. You like her. Maybe you can integrate Family Video into your regular routine, become friends. You can see Robin becoming a good friend. One you wouldn't grow apart from. 

She disappears into the back room. You browse the old releases and stop at Die Hard. This one you saw in theaters. John McClane is a badass. 

You think of Dustin, and his supposedly badass new friend. It's too bad you didn't meet today. Dustin has a good sense about people. If he says so, it's possible you and this friend really would get on. 

The bell rings again. You're slow to look up. The entrance is empty when you do. You keep reading about John McClane's adventures. 

"Have you been waiting long?"

You turn at the new voice. The video slips out of your hand and clatters onto the counter. 

Steve’s hair has grown since you last saw it. He looks different too, though he has yet to break out of his signature church boy polos. There's a smattering of stubble on his jaw. His arms are lean with muscle. He wears a matching work vest like Robin's, name tag printed Steve in blocky font. 

He looks at where you've dropped Die Hard and smiles. 

"This is a good one," he says. "John McClane is a total badass."

You blink.

"Did you want to rent that one?" he continues, meeting your eye. 

"No," you manage. 

"Okay, no problem. Just browsing?" 

He doesn't remember you. 

You stare and stare. Steve leans in, concerned. He's changed, but he hasn't. He's still handsome with his swoopy hair and big, dark eyes, but the Steve you knew wouldn't have been caught dead working at a video store.

And he doesn't remember you. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, sounding genuine.

You take a step back from the counter. The blood roars in your ears. Robin comes back in, Pretty in Pink in hand. She looks at you, then at Steve. 

"Got it!" she tells you. "Computer should work now."

"I have to go," you say. 

You don't look at Steve again, instead focusing on Robin. 

Her brows rise. 

"Oh. Is everything—"

"I forgot my wallet," you blurt. "I can't pay for the movie. Sorry."

"That's okay, we can just—"

You run. The bell chimes over her words. You keep running until you get to the bus stop, three blocks away. 

Only there do you stop to catch your breath. 

And then you cry. 

February 1982

"What do you think about Marie?" 

You look up from your textbook. Steve is doodling in the margins of his notes. You gently prod his arm. He returns to reading but his leg starts to bounce under the table. 

"Marie Iverson?" you ask.

"Yeah." 

Steve glances at you. He pushes his hair back. It had taken him freshman year to get his bearings with all the gels and creams, but now, his hair is a point of pride, always perfectly coiffed. Seniors call him "The Hair" and high-five him in the hallway. You hate it. 

"I don't know. I don't know her that well."

"She's cute." 

"I guess so," you say. 

It's harder to get Steve to focus on homework these days. Last year, he happily made flashcards with you and even bought fancy gel pens to share for your notes. Now, he prefers to talk about girls or—

"I was thinking of asking her out."

The tip of your pencil breaks. You really ought to start using pens, but you don't like being unable to erase. 

"Shit, here. Take mine." 

Steve offers his still perfectly sharpened pencil. You stare at it. 

"Y/N?" 

"Yeah." You take the pencil. "Thanks."

"Sure. So what do you think?" 

"I don't know, Steve. I thought you talked about this stuff with Tommy."

"I would, it's just…" Steve shifts uncomfortably. "He can be rude about it sometimes. He doesn't even get why we're friends, y'know? Doesn't understand why I don't just date you."

Tommy is a moron, but you've said that since last year, and Steve's never listened before. 

"Some people don't get it," you say mildly, because you have an upcoming French test and there's no use in getting upset over Tommy Hagan right now. 

"But you do. And you know about this stuff better than me. Girls and all."

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I know what girls are best for you to date, Steve. It's weird to talk about."

Steve deflates. 

"Oh. Yeah, I guess so. Sorry."

You sigh and rub your temple. 

"I thought you knew all about that," you say, extending an olive branch. "Asking girls out and stuff."

"Well, I mean, I've kissed girls but I've never… you're, like, the only girl I really know."

Something like pride swells in your chest. Selfishly, you want to keep Steve. You don't want to help him if it means losing him. Oh, you're so greedy, aren't you? You watch Steve run off with Tommy and Carol and nameless seniors and seethe, because Steve was yours first. Steve is yours.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah." You give him back his pencil and fish for another one in your bag. "Did you ever think about writing how you feel?" 

"Writing?"

"Yeah, like a poem or a letter."

"I'm terrible at writing," Steve laments. "The letters get all jumbled and I never spell a damn thing right."

He'd told his mom once how letters melt into each other, how b's become d's. She'd taken him to get his eyes checked, and when the doctor said Steve was fine, Deborah Harrington had told her son to stop begging for attention. 

"Someone who really likes you won't care about spelling mistakes, Steve," you tell him. "As long as you write from the heart. Don't do that cheesy shit and quote Romeo and Juliet. They're young, impulsive, and they die at the end, and that's not romantic."

Steve laughs, nose scrunched. 

"What!" you demand. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, 's just—of course you'd have something to say about quoting Shakespeare."

"It's overdone," you say, crinkling your nose. "And girls would much rather read your own words." 

"So you think I should write Marie a letter?"

"If you really like her," you say. "Only write letters for girls you really like. Otherwise they lose their meaning."

Steve frowns. "I don't know if I should write her a letter, then."

Don't, you want to say. Don't write any of them letters.

You shuffle your papers into a stack. 

"Can we study now?" you ask.

"Oh, sure, yes. Sorry."

"You don't have to keep apologizing, Steve."

He shifts closer to you. His leg has stopped bouncing.

"Lemme take you out," he says. 

You nearly swallow your tongue. 

"Wh–what?"

"For ice cream," Steve clarifies. "Like we used to. Dairy Queen."

"Oh. Okay, sure. But after we study."

Steve beams. "I'll drive you."

Steve's dad had bought him the BMW as a birthday present this year—not that Richard Harrington actually knows when his own son's birthday is, considering the gift was three months early. Still, it's another point of pride for Steve and about all anybody talks about whenever his name comes up. Steve is the only person in your grade with a car. Junior girls hit him up for rides. You make yourself scarce when they do. 

You don't care. You liked Steve before the car. And the clothes. And the hair. 

Your throat feels tight. You want your best friend back. 

"Just us?" you check. 

You can't tell these days. Steve seems to hang out with everybody but you. You're shocked he'd even asked to study together. 

"Oh, sure," Steve says. "I just have to drop off Tommy and Carol first, okay?" 

You check your watch and close your book. 

"I have class," you lie. "I'll see you later." 

Steve catches your wrist. He looks at you and you're struck by how sweet his face is. It's not like you didn't understand why girls want him but it's Steve. Your Steve, who still sleeps with a nightlight and who framed a picture of a sports car he cut out from a magazine because he'd thought it would make him cooler (it didn't. You still tease him about it.) 

"Please," he says. "For helping me."

Your eyes slit. "I didn't help you to get stuff, Steve. I helped you because you're my friend."

Steve blinks like he's forgotten what it's like to be friends with someone just for the sake of being friends. 

"You're right," he agrees. "You're not like that. I'll tell Tommy and Carol to find another ride. It'll be just us. I promise."

You perk up at that. "Really?"

"Really. You can sit in the front with me and we'll play Bruce Springsteen, like we used to. Please?" 

"Okay, Steve." You ache. You’ve never been very good at telling him no. "I'll meet you in the parking lot."

And maybe… maybe your best friend is still in there after all.

Now

You ask your shift manager if you can work at the snack bar today. It's in the back and you won't have to deal with any game hogs. 

"You didn't put enough syrup in my slushie."

You might have overshot the perks, though. 

Slushie Girl's hair is bleach blonde and hairsprayed to God. You want to tell her that all that hairspray doesn't keep friends. Or brain synapses. 

"I don't make the slushie," you say for the third time. "That's how it comes out of the machine."

She shoots you a mean look. 

"I'm complaining to the manager."

You paste on a smile. 

"You do that. Have a nice day."

She finally walks away, probably on the hunt for your manager, who's definitely smoking a joint outside to avoid this exact situation. 

Dustin comes around the corner and this time, he's with the rest of his party. You smile. 

"Hey, Y/N!" Dustin greets.

Lucas waves at you. Max and Mike are arguing and therefore are in their own world. And there's their newest addition, El, whose story you're still not clear on, as well as Will, quiet as always. 

You lean your elbows on the countertop. 

"What'll it be, gang?"

"Six nachos and six slushies, please. One blue raspberry, three cherry, and two Coke."

You fill up the slushies first. Dustin dances on his toes. 

"So did you pick up the movie?" he asks.

"Oh." You try to smile. "I went there but I couldn't. I forgot my money. Pretty dumb of me."

Dustin accepts this with no argument. 

"Well, you can go back. They'll hold it for a few days."

You're never setting foot in there again, but you don't tell Dustin that. 

He takes his slushie and immediately starts drinking. 

"Slow down, dude. You'll get a brain freeze," you say. 

"You sound like Steve," Dustin informs you. "Doesn't Y/N sound like Steve?" 

Lucas nods. 

"Yup. They're both parents."

You feel queasy. You focus on making the nachos, the cheese pouring out thick and gooey. 

"Did you meet Steve?" Dustin asks. "You probably know him from high school, but he's different now."

"Yes," you say quietly. "I knew him."

"I promise he's different. Even Mike likes him, and Mike hated his guts. Right, Mike?"

Mike pauses in his animated discussion with Max and looks at you. 

"What?"

"I'm telling Y/N about how Steve is cool now," Dustin explains. 

"Oh." Mike shrugs. "He's fine. Much better now that he's not dating my sister."

"He's not?" you ask. "But they were in love. I–I mean, that's what I heard, at least."

"She dumped his ass," El says, and it sounds a little ridiculous in her soft monotone. 

Max scoffs, taking her Coke slushie. 

"Did you live under a rock? It was a huge thing."

"Now Steve is lame," Mike says with a snort. 

"Getting dumped doesn't make somebody lame," you say with an old ferocity you'd thought had disappeared. 

"Okay, jeez." Mike holds up his hands. "Steve's alright. He's different, that's for sure."

"He's our paladin," Lucas says. "A protector." 

Dustin nods eagerly.

You blink. "He protects you guys?"

Max elbows Lucas. You have no idea what that's about. El steps forward and smiles softly. 

"Yes," she says. "He's our babysitter."

"Aren't you guys freshmen? I thought you were too old for babysitters."

"Oh no, Steve doesn't get paid for it or anything," says Mike. "He just does it 'cause he has nothing else to do."

"That's not true!" Dustin argues. Then he shrugs. "Well, it's a little true. But he does like us. He's a good guy. He cares about his friends."

You bite your tongue, not wanting to reply to that. 

"That's great, guys. The girl, Robin? She seems pretty cool too."

"That's Steve's best friend," says Dustin. "She's great."

"Oh." You wince. "Best friend?" 

Dustin huffs. “Yeah. They don’t date. He won’t say why."

"Platonic with a capital P," Max confirms. “It’s obviously because he’s in love with somebody else.”

“Not Nancy!” Lucas protests.

“There are other girls besides Nancy, Sinclair.”

You busy yourself with serving the last set of nachos. The kids pull out crumpled bills and coins in return. You count the money and stack it directly into the register; you know there won't be any change. 

When you turn, they're still there. Dustin has his signature grin on, eyes squinty. 

"Yeees," you drag out. "Can I help you?"

"We need a favor," Lucas says. "Please."

"Hmm." You lean over the counter. "What's up?"

"They're showing Prince of Darkness on Friday," Dustin explains. "But it's rated R."

"So just sneak in. Isn't that what you guys did at Starcourt?" you ask.

"We had an inside man then. They're a lot stricter at the new one," Lucas frowns. "They ask for IDs 'cause some mom complained after her kid snuck in to watch Risky Business." 

"And why can't your babysitter take you?"

You sneer at the thought. Steve spending his Friday nights herding a bunch of adolescent teens into a movie theater. There's a reason you consider Dustin affectionately delusional. 

"He has a stupid date," Dustin groans. "He's a serial dater, Y/N. It's terrible. He gets lucky once and totally ditches us."

Now that sounds like the Steve you knew. 

"I see. I don't really like horror stuff."

"You don't have to stay!" Dustin insists. "You can watch whatever you want after we’re in. I'll pay you back for the ticket."

“This would be so much easier if Steve still worked at Scoops,” Mike grumbles.

You blank for a moment, the image of Steve in a sailor’s hat and those ridiculous shorts whiting your brain.

“Um,” you begin. “You know I don’t have a fancy BMW to cart you guys around in, right?”

“It’s cool. We’ll get there,” Max says.

“So?” Dustin bounces on his toes. “Sooo?”

You sigh. It’d been nice of Dustin to get you the movie, even though you’d chickened out and ran. And it’s not like you have anything better to do.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll get you guys in.”

Dustin pumps his fist. “Thanks, Y/N! You’re my favorite old person.”

You roll your eyes. “Funny. Any funnier, and I might rescind my help, Henderson.”

“Byeeee!”

They all disperse to the arcade. You wonder how on earth Steve got involved with them.

March 1983

“Okay, but if you had to choose.”

“Pass. I would literally rather swallow pennies than kiss Principal Coleman’s bald-ass head, Steve.”

Steve takes a triumphant swig of beer. “So you’re saying you’ve got the hots for Benny the janitor.”

“No!” you insist through giggles. “I don’t. God, you’re gross. Can’t believe I’m being treated like this on your birthday.”

“Exactly! My birthday.”

He rolls onto his side in his deck chair and nearly faceplants on the cement. You reach out, reaction time delayed.

“Steve!” you yell. “Careful.”

“I am, I am,” he mumbles, and rights himself on the chair. “Jus’ wanna see you better.”

“I keep telling you you need glasses.”

“I do not,” he whines. “My vision’s ten outta ten. Could a guy who needs glasses do this?”

He crumples up a Twinkies wrapper and throws it towards the garbage. The wind picks up and sends the wrapped into the pool. 

“Shit,” he says.

You belly laugh in delight.

“Wait, wait, redo. Go fish it outta there.”

“Oh, as if. I’m not going in there. I told you you need glasses. Even Mother Nature agrees.”

"She does not. Mother Nature thinks I'm a doll."

You hum and close your eyes. Alcohol always makes you sleepy. 

The chair scrapes against the concrete. You hear a crinkle of a chip bag. Those are your only warning before you’re crushed by two hundred pounds of drunk boy. 

“Steve!” You wheeze, squirming as his hair tickles your face. “Get off!”

"’M sleepy,” he mumbles.

“Well, don't sleep on me, weirdo.”

“‘S cold.”

“You run, like, a hundred degrees, don’t lie.”

He lifts his head. “So you’re saying I’m hot?”

“I’m saying all that booze cooked your brain,” you reply sweetly.

“I’ve been wounded,” he moans and plops onto your shoulder.

“Ugh.” You resign to your fate and lean back. Steve’s not actually that heavy; even drunk, he has a lot of control over his weight and he’s situated himself so he isn’t crushing anything important. No, you squirm underneath him for a very different reason. 

“Steeeeve,” you whine. “You’re gonna squish me into a pancake.”

“Can’t believe no one else came.”

You still. Steve’s face remains buried in your shoulder. His body is beside yours, and he has an arm slung over your belly.

“I didn’t—didn’t want a party,” he continues. “I always throw parties. I thought I’d do somethin’ different. An’ none of them even wished me a happy birthday. ‘Cept you.”

You rest your hand on the back of his hair. It’s wind-blown and messy from the drinks, free of his heady hair gel. You’ve never loved it more.

“Did you tell them your birthday is today?” you ask gently, even though you know he did.

“Yeah,” he says. “Told all of ‘em. Guess they weren’t listening.”

“I listen.”

Steve looks up at you. His eyes are glassy.

“God, I miss you,” he says.

You feel the wall you’ve built this year crumble, just a little. 

“I’m right here, Steve.”

“I know but—been a jerk lately. I know I have. You’re my best friend, okay? Nothing’ll change that. I–I love you so much.”

Your breath hitches. Steve barrels on, not noticing.

“And I’ll be better. We’ll hang out more. Not–not here, drunk. But for real. We’ll go to the movies. Y’wanna see a movie?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I wanna see a movie.”

“‘Kay, what movie? Anything you want. We’ll get popcorn and Raisinets.”

“You hate Raisinets,” you choke through a watery laugh.

“I’d eat Raisinets anytime with you.”

You lay there, in the dark, the only sound being the pool filter.

“Let’s watch the new James Bond.”

“Hmm, okay. But you’ll have to say the name eventually.”

Your nose crinkles. “I am not calling it by its name.”

His laugh is warm in your neck. 

You don’t tell Steve to get up again. He snuggles into you, leg over yours. You fall asleep like that, curled underneath him.

Now

“Wait.” Max stops. “Shouldn’t we have, like, a game plan?”

“Game plan?” El asks quietly.

“Yeah. Some of us aren’t so great at playing it cool.”

She stares at Lucas.

“I play it cool!” he squawks. “I am so cool!”

“Right.”

“Just let Y/N do the talking,” Will says. “She’s technically the adult so she should act like this is a conscious choice.”

You shrug. “Makes sense to me.”

Dustin beams. “This is gonna be great!”

“Or a total disaster,” Max says.

You go to the counter, the kids trailing behind like ducklings.

“Six tickets for Prince of Darkness, please,” you say. “And uh, one for Dirty Dancing.”

The attendant looks at you, then at the kids.

“Don’t you mean seven tickets for Prince of Darkness?” she asks. “It’s rated R.”

Shit. “Right, yes. Sorry. Seven tickets. And one for Dirty Dancing. We have another friend who’s late.”

“Uh-huh.” 

The attendant, whose bored expression you’ve recognized on your own face after long days in the arcade, hands you your tickets without any questioning. 

“I think we’re in the clear,” Lucas whispers when you enter the concession area. 

You wait for them to buy their snacks. Max persuades Lucas to let her mix M&Ms into their bucket of popcorn. He agrees and shuffles closer so they’re pressed shoulder to shoulder while they share. 

“Okay, last stretch,” Mike says, shoveling a frighteningly large handful of sour worms into his mouth. “We just have to get past the ticket guy.”

Said ticket guy is a kid who can’t be much older than you. You think you might’ve gone to school together, but you’ve made it a point to eviscerate everything about high school from your mind.

“Hey,” you say, trying to act cool. Maybe you’re the one Max should’ve been worried about, instead of Lucas. “Uh, here are our tickets.”

He takes the tickets, then looks behind you.

“Prince of Darkness is only for people seventeen and older,” he says.

“I’m an adult, so I’m with them,” you explain. “I’m, like, their guardian?”

“Yeah, uh—” He hands you your tickets. “No can do. There needs to be an adult for each person under seventeen.”

“Come on,” you cajole. “They’re high schoolers. It’s not like they’re gonna be scarred for life watching some zombies, or whatever.”

He shrugs. “Rules are rules.”

“She’s an adult!” Dustin argues.

“Look, if you’re gonna hold up the line, I’m gonna have to—”

“Yo, Gillespie! That you?”

Dustin turns and lights up. The seven of you part for Steve Harrington and his date, a pretty strawberry blonde you think you had biology with.

“Harrington, man, what’s up!” 

Ticket Prick gets up to slam Steve into a bear hug. You barely resist an eye roll.

“Shit, I haven’t seen you in a year! Where’ve you been all this time? Hey, did you hear about that shit with Munson?”

Steve flinches. It’s a tiny movement, indiscernible to the trained eye. But it’s there all the same.

“Gillespie, c’mon. Don’t bring the party down with that,” Steve says, all sweet charm. 

“Sorry, sorry. Daisy,” he greets the girl attached to Steve’s arm.

“Gil,” she replies with a giggle. “You smell like popcorn butter.”

America’s future taxpayers. Terrifying. 

“Are you gonna let us in or not?” Max interrupts, arms folded. 

You feel a burst of pride.

Gil shoots her a dirty glare and puffs up, ready to fight a fourteen year old. Steve cuts in smoothly.

“Gillespie, listen. I know her.” He points to you. You bristle. “I can personally vouch that she’s just trying to do right by these kids. They wanted to see Prince of Darkness, y’know? Get away from the parents.”

“It’s a sick film,” Gil agrees. “You seen it?”

No, of course Steve hadn’t seen it. He hates horror. 

“Planning on it,” Steve says, the ultimate image of playing it cool. “Look, you remember sneaking into the movies. Fast Times? Ring any bells?”

Max rolls her eyes. You’re inclined to do the same.

Gil laughs dopily, and nudges Steve. “Hell yeah, I do. That was a crazy night, Harrington.”

Steve smiles thinly. “Sure was. So whaddya say? For old times’ sake?”

Gil considers your little troupe. Then he shrugs.

“Why not. Manager’s not here anyway.”

He takes the tickets and tears them to stubs, then gives them back.

“Theater six. On your left. Enjoy.”

The kids stampede into the left theater wing. You hang back with your own ticket. 

“Appreciate it, man,” Steve says, all smiles. “Take care, alright?”

“Hey, you too, Harrington! We gotta catch up!”

Steve and Daisy go in. You expect them to walk right past you, and Daisy does, predictably. But Steve stops.

“I’ll catch up, okay?” he tells her. “Find us some good seats?”

She paws at him a little, then goes, sodas in hand. You stiffen as Steve walks and stops three feet away from you. 

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry about that. Gil’s an asshole.”

“I know. He yawned during my poetry reading sophomore year. And then you guys went to the movies together.”

Steve shrinks. “Your poems were great.”

You’re suddenly exhausted.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“I just… I wanted to see you. Say hi.”

“Okay.” You cross your arms. “Hi.”

“You forgot your movie,” he says. “The other day.”

“I didn’t want it that much.”

“Dustin said you looked everywhere for it.”

“Well, in the end, it didn’t really matter,” you say. “Not enough to stay.”

“Y/N—”

“I think your date’s waiting for you,” you interrupt. “Better get back to her. Wouldn’t want to taint your reputation.”

Steve makes a noise like he’s been wounded. You turn on your heel before you can think better of it. 

“Wait.” He catches your wrist. Steve’s grip is light, like you’re something precious to hold. You wrench your arm away. “Y/N, I want to apologize. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you ask. “For forgetting me? I didn’t expect you to remember, Steve.”

“I didn’t forget you,” he insists. “I could never forget you. I wasn’t—please, can I just explain?”

“I don’t need your explanations,” you snap. The hurt corrodes your tongue like acid. “I know what happened. We were both there. You left.”

Steve’s eyes are huge and dark. He looks like you just stabbed him in the heart, and that makes you feel worse. You’d thought telling him how much it hurts would put you back together, but all it did was break you more.

So you run. Again. 

You slam through a back exit and rip your ticket into a million pieces. The wind is cold and unforgiving. Your eyes sting. 

You call out sick for two days in a row. You kind of expect to get fired, but then again, people have been leaving Hawkins and if you’re not here to serve the masses their slushies, who will be?

So, after lying in bed not thinking about movies and strawberry blonde girls and how sick you are of this town, you get up and put on your arcade vest.

Now it is two in the afternoon. You’d heard it was supposed to snow today.

Robin eyes the snack counter like it holds the next plague outbreak. You don't blame her; you make it a point to wash up to your elbows after work.

"Slushie?"

She looks at you like she’d forgotten you were there. "What?"

You point a thumb at the machine. "Are you here for a slushie?"

"Oh. No, sorry. Red dye makes me insane in the brain. Steve actually—"

Robin stops, grimaces. So he's told her. Probably everything, if the kids had been telling the truth. 

You're honestly surprised she's here. Unless it’s to, like, swirlie you in the vat of artificial cheese. 

"Are you here to drown me in nacho cheese?" you ask.

Robin's eyes go wide as dinner plates. "What? No!"

"Just checking." You lean against the counter. "What can I do for you, Robin?" 

Robin suddenly looks like she's never interacted with a human being before. You like her a lot. Steve probably does too. 

"I came to drop off your movie." She holds the tape over the counter like it's a pool of lava. 

"But I didn't pay for it." You shove your hand in your jean pocket; you only have a couple dollars on you. "I guess I can get you the money tom—"

"It's on the house. For a fellow Molly fan."

Robin wiggles the tape with two fingers. You take it and wait for a catch. There is none. 

"Thank you," you say. "You didn't have to do that."

"Actually, it wasn't me," she confesses. "I'm just the mailman."

You prepare to hand it back but Robin shakes her head. 

"He's not going to pop out of the slushie machine, okay? He's just trying to make it up to you."

"He doesn't need to make it up to me," you bite, except those aren’t the words you mean. "Why does he even care? We're not in high school anymore."

Robin smiles a sad smile. 

"I know," she says. "We’re not. I know he should've known to fix things earlier. He's received a lot of blows to the head, though, so he's still catching up."

The thought turns your stomach. More? More you weren’t there to protect him from?

"He doesn't owe me anything," you say and wave the tape again. "You can take it back and leave it for somebody else."

"Y/N, I know we don't know each other, like, at all. But it's important to me you know that Steve cares about you, because you’re important to him. And you knew him way before I did, and you probably know a lot of stuff I don't, and that's good because he has a friend like me, but he should also have a friend like you too, Y/N."

"I don't want to be his friend," you mumble. 

"Yeah," Robin says. "I figured. But I don't think that's a confession he should hear secondhand."

You look at her, stunned. She's such a clever girl. You hope she treats Steve well.

"If you two are—"

"We're not," she says, like this is a regular explanation she goes through. "Steve and I are friends. Steve has crashed and burned with every single date since his fall from regency. Steve is the best person I've ever met." 

"Yeah, I’ve heard. You and Dustin are his biggest fans."

Robin snorts. "Trust me, I'm not proud of it."

You shake your head. Your eyes feel hot. 

"This town is so shit," you say. 

"Yeah," Robin agrees. "It really fucking is. But I'm not asking you to give this town a second chance. Just him."

"Why are you trying so much?" you ask. "You don't even know me."

Robin shrugs. "No, but you're the one person Steve used to be friends with who's not an asshole, and I think us non-assholes need to band together."

"I can sometimes be an asshole."

"Me too. So are those little dweebs. How about calling ourselves the Semi-Assholes Club?" 

You laugh. "We'll get jackets."

"With partially drawn butts on the backs," Robin says with a giggle. 

You look at the tape in your hand. 

"Does Steve like John Hughes?" 

"He does. He's a total sap for those. He thinks he's in his own coming-of-age movie because he's delusional."

He sounds perfect. He sounds like the friend you loved. 

"I did want to watch this one," you say. 

"It won't hurt you to," Robin promises. 

You suppose not.

December 1984

You don't believe the whispers. All week, the rumor mill spins tales of Billy Hargrove finally pushing the King off his throne. There's no way he'll show his face, a girl at the adjacent lunch table astutes. I sure as fuck wouldn't.

Steve Harrington is a loser. Steve Harrington got dumped for Jonathan Byers. Steve Harrington may as well be dead, and on and on. 

Every line gets you angrier. A boy who sits behind you in chemistry taps his pencil like he always does. Tap, tap, tap. 

Halfway through class, you snap at him to quit it. He does, but not without a tinge of embarrassment. You’re so angry this year. Angry at your loneliness, angry at the unfairness of said loneliness. You might’ve done this to yourself, and that fact only gets you angrier.

You see Nancy Wheeler in the hallways with Jonathan Byers, and the confirmation of that rumor should make you happy. It doesn't. 

A week later, most of the excitement has died down. Everybody’s moved onto the next big thing, which is to deduce who fucked in Vice Principal White's office. One look at V.P. White, and it had been decided that it can't have been White himself. 

You can't care less. Once upon a time you might’ve laughed about it with a friend, but you don't have any more of those, and high school is bullshit with or without them. So.

Steve walks in twenty five minutes into the period. Mrs. Kaplan gives him a downright beastly glare and demands to know where he had been. 

"I'm sorry," is all he says. "If you give me detention, I understand."

There are a few snickers that rub at an old hurt, one that had flared up whenever somebody dared to make fun of your best friend. It doesn't bother me, he'd said, and you'd known it was a lie. 

It bothers me, you’d replied, and Steve had hugged you tight.

Mrs. Kaplan seems more stunned Steve hadn't swaggered past her like a peacock escaped from the zoo and lets him go sit down without a fight. He takes the only empty desk, two rows across from you. You stare. You can't not. 

Half of his face looks like it was mashed in a garbage disposal. It's purple and a sickly yellow. His eye and lip are still swollen. You stare and stare. You feel queasy. 

Billy had done that. You're so angry. You think you might never get past this grief, this loss of a once permanent fixture in your life. 

No one wished Steve a happy birthday this year, you realize out of nowhere.

You stare and stare and stare until Steve looks right back. You're blindsided by thick guilt, like blinking through a milkshake. And then the familiar curl of anger returns because why the fuck should you feel guilty? You aren't the one who fucked everything up, who mascerated this good thing. Steve did this to himself. Steve deserves to walk the halls alone. It's Steve's fault. 

But when you look at him, at his raw wounds, at his bruised knuckles, you know that he already believes he deserves every punch Billy Hargrove gave him. 

You hate Steve Harrington. But you really wish you'd been there to drive him to the hospital. 

Now (And Forever)

The tape sits buried in your drawer for three days. You don’t know what Family Video’s return policy is, but you hope you’re not racking up late fees. You doubt name dropping Dustin will work again.

It’s Saturday when you decide to watch Pretty in Pink. You remove the video from its sleeve. An envelope falls out.

The front has your name printed in squished, loopy script. You remember January at Steve’s house, a stack of thank-you cards courtesy of his mother awaiting the Harringtons’ sign-off. Steve’s hand would cramp and you’d take over while he made grilled cheese for the both of you. Love, The Harringtons, and there was no love in that house, but you think maybe Steve loved enough to make up for it. 

Hi, the letter begins. I hope you’re good. Robin told me you’re going to Hawkins State.

That’s fucking amazing. I’m so proud of you. Are you still writing poetry? I liked that one you wrote about the birds who shared a branch and kept each other warm. I still have it in my notebook in my room.

I’m sorry for the other night. I’m sorry for every night since freshman year, honestly. I’m kind of a dumbass, but you know that, so it doesn’t really excuse anything. I think I’ve actually lost brain cells since we drifted apart.

You crumple the corner, suddenly hot with anger. Who keeps telling him he’s dumb? You want names.

I didn’t forget you, you know. I got scared and I thought maybe I could ease into it, but then you recognized me and… well. I don’t blame you for running.

Anyway. I’m talking too much about myself, when there’s nothing to say. I’m really sorry about what I did, or, actually, what I didn’t do. Somebody told me I was living on autopilot, and that it wasn’t really living at all. I think it was you. 

I’m not living on autopilot anymore. I woke up. And I realized that you’re the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to me. I love Robin and the kids and this little family that has apparently invayd invaded your life too. Sorry about that. They never leave and they eat all your food. Good luck. 

But I miss you. I always have.

Shit happened these last few years that I’ll tell you about one day, if you want. I’d rather not, though, because you’ve always been the paranoiac (like that one? Robin said it’s an SAT word) of the two of us and I feel like this would just make you even more of one. But I will tell you, if you want to hear it. I want to tell you everything. I want you to tell me everything too. Like we used to.

I want you to tell me how college is going. Who the annoying jerks in your classes are so I can go beat them up (kidding). I want you to stop by to rent movies so I can lend them for free and you’ll yell at me about taking advantage of fre friendships. 

Fuck, I miss you. It’s always been there, bubbling below the surface. I never stopped missing you. I never stopped loving you. I’m sorry I didn’t write this sooner. I know you said writing is how we express things we can’t say. You were right. You always are. Can’t believe I forgot that. 

It’s okay if you don’t want to be friends. I mean, it hurts, but I respect it. I understand. Most days, I can’t believe people can bear to be around me. But then I hear your voice in my head, telling me that most people are shitheads and that I’m golden and. Well, I don’t know if I believe that, but you were right that most of the people I surrounded myself with were shitheads. Except you, of course. And then I went ahead and fucked that up.

I’ve been working on finding the non-shitheads of the world. I think I’m doing pretty well. And I wrote this because I realized that while I will probably end up buried in this fucking town, you’re going to do something incredible. And nothing incredible ever happens in Hawkins, so I figure you’ll be far away when you do it. 

I didn’t want to miss this chance to write things I never said. So here they are. And you can do whatever you want with them. You’ve always been the best of the two of us. I trust you.

You should watch Dirty Dancing. You’ll like it. I did. I’ll see it again if you want. I’ll watch anything with you.

Did you know there’s another Bond movie coming out in the summer? We could watch that one together too. If you wanted more time to decide.

Sincer

Lo

Your friend,

Steve

You don’t bother ejecting the tape. You run all the way to the bus stop, Steve’s letter in hand. 

You have to see him. No other thoughts register except that one. You have to know if Steve wrote these words because he can’t say them or because you won’t listen.

It isn’t too late when you get to Loch Nora. The neighborhood is dead, which is weird. Steve’s house looks frozen in time: his parents’ car isn’t in the driveway. You wonder if they’ve ever come back since you’ve been gone. You wouldn't be surprised if the answer is no.

There’s a tarp over the pool. The gate is locked with a chain. You can’t sneak in through the fence like you used to. Not that you would. You don’t think strangers can sneak through pool gates.

You knock on the door three times. And wait.

Steve’s car is in the driveway, a duller burgundy than when he first got it. There are a few scratches in the paint. No longer a prized possession. Maybe well-loved instead.

The door swings open. 

Steve says your name like a prayer. You swallow and steel your spine. 

“I got your letter,” you say.

“Oh.” He rubs the back of his neck. His hair is damp like he’s just showered. It curls around his ears. Waves of want hit you. 

“I don’t want to be friends,” you continue before he can speak. “I don’t—I can’t do that again.”

Steve’s mouth draws into the saddest frown you’ve ever seen.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Thank you for telling me.”

“No.” You shake your head. “No, that’s not—I don’t mean it like that.”

His brows knit. “What?”

“I…” You pull out the letter and wave it. “Did you mean it? Do you love me?”

“Yes,” Steve whispers. It’s like a shout in the quiet street. “I meant it.”

“Like a friend?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Will you love me like a friend forever?” you ask. 

“Always.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“I love you as something more,” you blurt, watery. “I have for a long time.”

You hear the door shut. This is it: your heart on the line, all for nothing—

“Then I’ll love you as something more back,” Steve says. “I’ll love you any way you want me to.”

And he holds you the way you’d held him so many times. You inhale and wrap your arms around his neck. You’ve got an iron grip around the letter. Tears slip down your cheeks.

“I missed you,” you confess.

Steve nods against your shoulder.

“Yeah,” he says, and it sounds a little wet. “I missed you too.”

“You were wrong,” you say into his neck.

“Hmm?”

You pull back to look at Steve.

“Incredible things do happen in Hawkins.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve smiles, cheeks blotchy. “Like what?”

“We found each other again.”