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odinsonslut · 1 year

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4 am

⊹ genre: angst, fluff ending

⊹ pairing: george weasley x reader (implied female)

⊹ themes: slight enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers???

⊹ summary: following the abrupt ending of your friendship, George, the instigator of the breakup, continues to treat you with carelessness and disregard. You’re pushed to the point of retaliation, leading to a cruel confrontation. George attempts to redeem his character and finally express his feelings.

⊹ warnings: swearing, kind of a heated suggestive make-out, a mean george.

⊹ word count: 2.1k

⊹ a/n: I haven’t written since, like, 2018. PLEASE, please treat me gently. I know I tend to overuse the same phrases within a story. I also suck at writing summaries. I promise there’s more to it than described 🫶🏽🫶🏽

It was 4 am when I jolted awake, still wading off the reminiscent agitation from a dream involving a sinking ship and a niffler from what I could remember. Hermione’s lamp was on its dimmest setting right next to where she had fallen asleep, book in hand, a muggle book I had gifted her since I rarely saw her reading for pleasure since we entered our fifth year.

I turned her bedside lamp off on my way out, hoping the elves were up preparing breakfast. I’d befriended Winky and often spent time with her over butter cookies in the kitchens when I had trouble sleeping. Her addiction was steadily improving without the burden of her previous master.

I made my way to the common room, contemplating walking all the way down to the kitchens, when I heard a thudding pair of footsteps down the stairs. It was George. It was too late to act like id never looked up; we had already made eye contact. Our usual routine was to avoid an acknowledgement of any form. Things hadn’t been the same since he’d rejected my invite to the yule ball last year, though that wasn’t why our friendship had fallen through.

“He’s got you sneaking out at night now too?”

I was taken aback. The last time we’d ever spoken was the reluctant exchange of Merry Christmas’ due to Molly’s prodding at the burrow. The ‘he’ George was referring to was the date you ended up with at the ball, Draco, the reason George had cut you off completely that night.

“Tell Angelina she’s welcome to join us when she grows tired of faking it with you.”

I was furious. Why does he get to decide your friendship is over? Why does he get to be mad about your relationship after rejecting you? Why is the standing of our relationship always dictated by how he feels and what he wants? And why should I continue acting civilly towards him?

I picked a book off the shelf and bumped his shoulder as I passed him, deciding to return to bed. I had lost my appetite.

I’d practically sprinted to the great hall for dinner after a two-hour-long class of potions. Since your breakup, being partnered up with Draco for the next year was a little awkward. Keeping the DA a secret and him being on the inquisitorial squad just caused too many issues that couldn’t be resolved on top of the Gryffindor-Slytherin debacle. He was the sweetest boy, and being apart still hadn’t affected how he treated you at all: softly, politely. It was comforting knowing he’d always have a soft spot for you, but getting to the point of friendship would take a little longer.

I sat between Hermione and George, across from Harry, getting subtle looks from my friends. I was tired of walking on eggshells around George, waiting for him to dictate how our interactions go or tailoring my behaviour for his comfort. This was his problem, not mine.

“Get yourself somewhere else to sit. This seat is spoken for”, he spoke immediately.

I refused to react defensively. Instead, I picked an eclair off his plate and took a bite.

Harry avoided looking at us at all, shovelling meat pie into his mouth. Hermione didn’t employ the same faux indifference, staring directly at us. George shifted a bit farther away from me and continued eating, similarly refusing to give me a reaction.

“Where is Angelina? Last I saw, she was off ‘practising’ with Marcus Finch”, I prodded, refusing to concede

“Your desperation for me is becoming pitiful to witness; it’s pathetic. Keep her name out of your mouth; you’d think it’d be exhausted with what all you spend your time doing with it.”

You finally got the rise out of him you were looking for, you pushed him to a breaking point, but it wasn’t the satisfying victory you imagined. It hurt.

I kept my gaze downcast, lightly placed the remainder of the unfinished eclair back onto George’s plate and left the hall. I spent the night on a couch in the room of requirement, unwilling to accept Hermione’s comfort quite yet.

“What on earth is going on with you two?” Hermione was lying on my bed beside me, our hands loosely intertwined. She’d spent all Saturday morning with me, avoiding the topic of George completely till now.

I sighed

I knew it would be an inevitable discussion, but a part of me wished I could avoid it into in-existence. “It was embarrassing, Mione. I think we’re truly done with each other, and I honestly feel okay with the thought of that. I know I pushed him, but hearing those words was jarring. It felt like a completely different person than who I thought was still in there. It’s the lighthearted and slightly sarcastic tone in which he said it that made it hurt. I feel foolish.”

“Nothing you put him through warranted that response, honestly? It sounded more like a projection to me. You were dignified in accepting his rejection, and he cut you off for going with someone else?”

“There is absolutely no sense in trying to decipher why the Weasley boys act the way they do. I’ve still never gotten a sound explanation as to what exactly Ron was on that night, either. I mean, it’s obvious he was jealous but-

“Yeah, jealous he wasn’t Victor’s date for the night”, She cut me off.

“oh my god, whatever happened to the Krum-themed anal plug Fred had custom-made Ron for Christmas third year?”

Opening my eyes felt like such an effort; my head felt like pounding out of its skull in an unfamiliar bed in the boys’ dormitory. I recognised the burgundy hand-knitted sweater with a large W embroidered on it. My heart leapt into my throat for a split second. I had worried I’d somehow managed to break into George’s room for a confrontation.

He had been on my mind a lot lately. It had been about two months since the incident, and since we last spoke, and lately, he and Fred have been all everyone can talk about with the success of their prototypes and antics that seemed to have tightened in frequency the more decrees imposed by Umbridge.

I was rushing to get my things together when he walked in. I paused in place, petrified.

“You were careless last night. I don’t know when you became this person, but you’ve got to stop letting Malfoy ruin you. Muggle narcotics are dangerous.”

Just hearing his voice chastising me yet again pulled at me internally.

“I’m begging you to stop saying anything to me at all if they’re going to come out like that; I will genuinely beg because I just can’t take this from you anymore, George.”

He looked unamused

“When did you become so weak? Malfoy broken you down so badly that all you know how to do is make yourself small and beg?”

I’d had just about enough. I threw George against the wall yelling at him to shut the fuck up, haphazardly punching him wherever I could land any, the frustration that had built up for months finally meeting its outlet. Save from shielding his face, George stood there and took it till I was done.

“Draco and I broke up over two months ago. He’s a good friend, he does help me get what I use, but he makes sure I’m safe and alive whenever I’m using” I finally broke the silence, and we sank to sit on the floor across from each other.

“I know, he told me last night. He was carrying you outside the common room, yelling at the fat lady to let him in to put you to bed. He told me you’d broken up and that you remained friends. He also said you were developing a problem and needed me back.”

“I don’t need Malfoy speaking for me, and having you around would actualise my supposed ‘problem’. Why am I in your clothes in your bed?”

“When I opened the door for Malfoy, you asked me to stay with you. You told me you just wanted one night of being us again, so I gave you clothes to change into, put you to bed in my room, and slept on the couch in the common room.”

I stood up to leave without acknowledging his response, relieved nothing else had happened.

“I don’t know that it’ll change anything for you, but I’ve felt sorry for treating you the way I did for a really long time. I figured you’d finally found peace with the situation and avoided trying to resolve things for that reason. At least, that was the excuse I forced myself to believe. I didn’t realise I was really just afraid of confrontation and rejection. Not generally, just with you. You were right about Angelina, too, apparently, she’s been shacking up with Finch since Christmas,” He continued

“None of that means anything to me. For as long as you got to decide to do whatever you wanted with my feelings, all I wanted was to get past this. This doesn’t mean anything to me after what you’ve done with the importance I trusted you enough to hold to you. I’m well within my right to decline your apology. And it isn’t even to spite you for your selfish decisions. You were right. I am truly happy without you. You don’t mean anything to me anymore.” I spoke with my back towards him and walked out and back to my dorm immediately after.

George had spent the last three weeks trying to earn back a spot in your life as the friend he once was to you. He’d done everything you hoped he would for the longest time, and it felt empowering to ignore his advances and put your pride first. But the more time you reluctantly spent with the old George, the harder it was to stop your previous feelings from resurfacing.

This particular morning, if you could even classify 4 am as the morning, George had snuck into your dorm with Harry’s cloak in hand. You only agreed to leave with him because he promised you a visit to Winky. After devouring an entire gooseberry pie between you, George suggested a walk by the lake. It was tempting, especially after seeing how he interacted with Winky, as normally as he does everyone else, without judgement. But you pushed yourself to decline and returned to the common room together.

You spotted professor Snape on your way up, seemingly aggravated by Peeves, omitting a chuckle from George as he watched Snape flail around, attempting to curse the ghost.

“Who’s there?” He sneered

I immediately lifted my hand to cover George’s mouth as we scooted closer together under the cloak. We kept our eyes locked as we tried to remain still. His eyes dipped to my lips at the same time he lifted my palm off of his. Tangling his left hand into my hair, he used his right to guide my waist back till we hit the wall and kept me in his hold, his lips moving closer to mine with every breath he took

“What’re you doing?” I asked softly enough for just the two of us to hear

He looked into my eyes as he finally connected his lips with mine, our eyes fluttering shut after the initial kiss as we melted into it. He teased my tongue with him as he hoisted me up to his level, wrapping my legs around his waist. The build-up of tension escaped us with every rough feverish kiss. His kisses moved to my neck as he began guiding my hips against his, perfectly lining me up against him. I could barely keep myself composed.

“It’s unfortunate, the 50-point deduction limit per student” My blood ran cold at the sound of Snape’s voice. George immediately dropped me to the ground, where I landed on Harry’s discarded cloak. George squeezed my hand in comfort, signalling he’d take care of things.

He took a breath and stepped toward Snape. “I drugged her, Sir; she’s completely innocent.”

“God, you’re an idiot”, I thumped him on the back of his head.

We sniggered, trailing a few steps behind Snape as we were escorted back to our dormitories, not too fussed about detention every week till the end of the term.

End

✩ I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE ANY OF MY WRITING POSTED ON ANY EXTERNAL WEBSITES ✩

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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months

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Freak Like Them

Summary: Anthony Lockwood x Fe!Reader -> You haven't spoke to your parents in years, and have never once mentioned them. One day, they decided to come and see you.

Disclaimer: This is more of a Lockwood and Co Platonic thing though I guess something could be shown as 'romantic'...kinda. Not proof read. Terrible parents, abandonment, shitty parents though some 'redeemed'. Swearing, angst, tears, found family kinda stuff.

You had been frantically running about all day, cleaning.

Whilst Lucy (tried) to eat her toast in peace, there you were, cloth in hand, taking her unfinished plate from her.

“Hey!”

Lucy watched you for a further moment before saying; “Do you mind?”

“Can’t have a mess. They’ll already find things to comment on.”

“They?”

“Do you know who she’s talking about?”

“No clue.”

“When did she even wake up?” George asked whilst himself, Lockwood and Lucy watched as you cleaned yet another already clean kitchen countertop.

“5, I think. She was up before me.” Lockwood stated.

You had actually been awake since 4, but figured you better start cleaning from 5. It gave you time to wake up, get ready and make sure the whole house was spotless before they came.

“Also, who’s they?”

“They?”

“She said, ‘they’ didn’t she?” Lucy asked, leaning into the duo.

“They are my parents.”

“What?”

“My parents.” you stopped for a moment to look at all three of them huddled together at the end of the table. “They called me last week saying they were coming down for a visit. Only, I completely forgot until last night and now nothing is clean and I don’t know what to do to avoid them saying something.”

“But I thought your parents didn’t like you being-”

“An Agent?” you finished Lockwood’s question. “They didn’t. Probably still don’t. I get a postcard from them every year but other than that, I don’t hear from them. And then, out of the blue they called.”

“And you forgot?”

“Well,” you sighed, looking at George. “I was a little busy trying to stop you three from committing an accidental murder in the Winkleman case last week.”

George remained silent.

“Either way, they’re coming today and I still haven’t finished-”

Lockwood stated your name. “The house is spotless. In fact, it hasn’t been this clean…ever.”

“I know, but I just need today to go well.”

“Why?” George asked, before realising he probably should have remained silent in his questioning.

George and Lucy didn’t know much about your parents, just that you had to have some somewhere. Lockwood knew a little more, but still not much. He knew why you came to London all those years ago. He knew why you left them and why they told you to leave, but other than that, he knew nothing more.

You refused to talk about them.

Anytime family came up in a conversation, you’d steer the conversation onto another topic or deflect it onto somebody else. You’d do it subtly but the others were slowly picking up on it.

“Please,” you begged. “Just…help me make sure today goes well and then they’ll go home and we can get back to normal.”

Neither of the trio knew what they were getting themselves in for when it came to your parents, and it would be too late for them to escape by the time they turned up at the front door.

George had made dinner that night, making sure to follow the recipe you gave him, to a T. Especially since it was your parents’ favourite meal and if he did it well, which you doubted he wouldn’t, then they would accept George and be kind with him.

That just left trying to get Lucy and Lockwood on their good side.

So, when the doorbell rang, Lockwood greeted them at the door, offering to take their coats.

Your mother thanked him and mentioned to her husband, your father, how kind he was.

So Lockwood was in their good books so far, until…

“Ah, my dear.”

Your mother spotted you as you came out of the kitchen and into the hallway. She took both of your hands in hers and kissed the air around your cheeks.

“Couldn’t greet us yourself?”

“Sorry, mum. I was just-”

“Nevermind. There’s always another chance. Are those-”

“Garlic potatoes? Yes. I gave George the recipe. He’s an amazing cook.”

“So are you, dear.” your mother told you. “I should know. I paid for the lessons.”

You could do nothing more than smile and nod before looking at your dad. “Hi, dad.”

“Munchkin, how is my little girl?”

“Goo-”

“She’s well, dear. Can’t you see? Nevermind that. Show us around. We’d like to see how our daughter is surviving after all.”

Your mother forced her way into the living room, your dad following her call whilst you remained outside the room for a short moment to take a breath.

“Are you-”

You nodded quickly at Lockwood, “I’m fine. Can you help Lucy finish the table?”

Lockwood nodded, his gaze wandering into the living room for a second before giving you a slight smile and heading into the kitchen.

Letting go of your forced breath, you entered the living room to find your mother judging every corner she could of the room.

“For London, I would have thought the rooms would be bigger.”

“Well, they are. We’ve just rearranged the furniture to make it cosier for the colder months.”

“And how long do you spend the day being lazy here.”

“Well, we’re not actually in here all that-”

“No need to lie to your mother, dear. I know you can be hard working when you want to be, but I also know children your age.”

Your mother wandered over to the fireplace before rubbing her finger over the top of it.

She hummed, and not in a good way. It was more…disappointment.

“You haven’t polished, I see. I can see now where we come on your scale of importance.”

“Mum, listen-”

“Would anyone like anything to drink?”

You made a mental note to hug Lucy as tight as you possibly could, later.

Your mother’s face lit up. “Oh, my goodness. You must be Miss Carlyle. I have heard so much about you. All from the papers, of course. Our daughter tells us nothing. Aren’t you much prettier in person? Perhaps one day you girls can have a talk over make-up. Perhaps you could teach my daughter a couple of things about presentability.”

Lucy didn’t know how to respond.

Usually, she’d fire back a snarky comment, but this was your mother.

And only now was she beginning to understand the reasons why you didn’t talk about them all that much.

Lockwood appeared behind Lucy for a moment. “Dinner is ready, if you’d like to take a seat in the kitchen.”

Your mother smiled at Lockwood and dropped Lucy’s hands.

“That will be wonderful, Son.” your father replied before all five of you made your way into the kitchen to see George.

The food was plated up perfectly, everything smelled just like how it did at home.

“Mismatched plates, how very…cute.”

You knew your mother didn’t mean that as a compliment.

“This all looks lovely, George.” your father told him before digging in. “My god! The potatoes, how did you-”

“I added a little bit of milk along with some spices left over from the chicken.”

Your father began telling your mother about how they should try and cook it like that when they got home, but your mother was more focused on you and your fellow Agents.

“So, tell me Lucy. When did you become an Agent?”

“W-When I was…eight…I think?”

“I remember the papers. It was awful what happened to those children. But that wasn’t your fault.”

Lucy didn’t know what to say, other than to nod and say an awkward, “Thank you.”

“Mum, can we please not talk about this?”

“I’m only asking a question, dear. Don’t attack me because you don’t like me wanting to get to know your friends.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Don’t talk back, dear. You know how I feel about you talking back.”

The room went silent for a moment before your father coughed and looked at you.

“How has the life of an Agent been treating you? I’m sure you’ve all got some strange stories you’d like to tell?”

“Dear, she just said she didn’t feel like talking about it.”

“No, it’s okay.” you felt a little spark of joy when hearing your father wish to talk about your job.

“Oh, so he can talk about it, but I can’t? Well,” your mother threw down her fork. “All I wanted was to spend time with my daughter and her friends and now suddenly I’m the villain but he’s the saint for asking questions.”

“Mum, I never-”

“I have a story!” George piped up.

All eyes turned to him and he swallowed nervously before telling his story about a case you were all working on a few months ago.

By the end of the story, you could have sworn your dad had pride in his eyes when looking at you.

Your mother, however, was a different case entirely.

“So you just went after them like that?”

“I was saf-”

“If they ran into a burning building, would you follow them? I understand you wish to prove yourself, but didn’t you have a good job there?”

You nodded. “I did, but I-”

“She’s happy now,” your father tried to explain lovingly. “And that’s all that matters-”

“Yes, yes, Dear. So, Anthony, tell me about yourself.”

The following 40 minutes passed in a similar fashion. Your mother asking questions, people answering and then her making a comment about you. Then, your father tried his best to support you.

Even if he didn’t support you when you decided to move to London to join Lockwood and Co, he was supporting you now. He seemed proud, even. But your mother didn’t.

“Did I tell you the story about when she decided she wanted to be an agent?”

You worried but continued to smile. It started out like a nice story.

“She was 14, and just got home from her maths tutors. I paid in full too, so no refund either.”

Oh, no.

“Dear, perhaps we don’t have to-” your father tried interrupting but it was no use. Your mother carried on and so, your father placed his hand gently on your arm whilst your focus remained on your mother, however your other hand found his and gave it a gentle squeeze.

This didn’t go unnoticed by the trio who then endured the story your mother told everyone.

“Can you believe that, my little girl, deciding to become an Agent instead of seaking her talents in-”

“Why don’t we move onto dessert?” your father announced, turning his attention to George who seemed to visibly give a sigh of relief.

“Yes, Lucy will you-”

“On it.”

Lucy led everyone into the living room with Lockwood, although yourself and your dad held back for a moment.

“I’m so sorry, Munchkin. I told her not to-”

“It’s okay, dad.”

“It’s-”

You took his hand on your arm again. “It’s okay, dad.”

As your dad followed Lucy and Lockwood and your mother into the living room, you let out a controlled breath and beside you, you saw a beer bottle.

“Not yet. If she smells it on me, she’ll hit the roof.”

“Maybe it will get her out quicker.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You remained still, your gaze fixed on the door. “No. But it can’t be that long until she leaves. Keep that on ice for me?”

“In the hidden corner of the fridge already.”

“Thanks, George.”

Being careful of your steps, you made your way into the living room where you found your mother in the middle of another story.

Lucy was pouring your dad a drink meanwhile, Lockwood looked at you for a moment, giving a silent questioning look.

“Are you okay?”

You gave a small nod and sat on the arm of the chair beside your dad, listening to another story that your mother told people. All that flashed across your mind was the amount of times you cried yourself to sleep in the nights after a dinner party where she provided people with evidence of what a disappointment you were to her then.

God only knows what she tells them now.

“Oh, please, tell me how my dear daughter is working in your fine establishment?” your mother asked, sitting on the edge of her seat. “And don’t worry, I know she’s not perfect. You can be honest in your review.”

Lockwood stuttered for a moment, understanding full well that when your mother said “she’s not perfect”, she didn’t mean it to be everyone is imperfect but rather you were…terrible.

“She’s doing very well. She’s one of the best…any of us have ever worked with.”

“You’re kidding! Oh, my dear.” your mother was laughing, with tears. “Oh, how cute. Dear, did you pay him to say that?”

“Wait a minute-” Lockwood was about to say something but then your mother looked at her watch.

“It’s getting late, we should go. Come on, dear.”

Your mother stood and thanked everyone, not once making eye-contact with you, before ushering her husband into the hallway.

“What the-”

“Not yet, Luce.” you whispered.

However, as you stood and walked down the hall, you saw your mother fussing over your father’s coat whilst he tried to stop her.

“What’s going on?”

Something in your gut told you what she was fussing over wasn’t his coat, but rather something she would get off her chest and your father was trying to stop her.

“Nothing, Munchkin.”

“We think you should come home.”

Lockwood, Lucy and George sprang into the hall when they heard your mother.

“What?”

“Just until you get better.”

“Better?”

“Clearly you paid Mr Lockwood to say that about you. I am your mother after all, I should know when your boss is lying.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Why should I come home? This. This place. This is my home. It’s been more of my home than a house with you has ever been.”

“No need to be spiteful, dear.”

“Just stop it!”

“See, look, she’s making me the villain again-”

“Enough!” you shouted out. “Can’t you see I’m happy here? I love my job and I love these people. I understand you don’t like the fact that you can’t say to your friends that I’m some fancy accountant doing peoples taxes until three o’clock in the morning, but it should be enough for you that I am happy. I am doing a job I love and I have people that I love.”

“I told you she was happy-”

“How can she be? She’s going to be a freak, just like the rest of them!”

“That is enough!” your dad raised his voice. “She has a point. It should be enough that she’s happy and she’s in a job she loves. Maybe we didn’t agree in the beginning, but it wasn’t something worth losing our daughter over! And she’s not a freak. These children are not freaks. They are talented, incredible human beings who shouldn’t have been brought into a world of fear, but are making the most of life all the same. I don’t care what she does. What I care about is knowing who she is. What I care about is if she is happy. Not if your friends and their old minds are satisfied over the stories you tell them. We haven’t seen her in almost three years and you can’t take a few hours to be kind and proud of her! I am not going another three years without seeing our daughter.”

“So what are you saying? Are you staying here?”

“I’m saying either realise what you could lose, or I leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Either change or I leave. And I move down here with her and we don’t see you ever again.” your father looked back to you where he found you looking at him with tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Munchkin. It should have taken me this long.” he turned back to your mother. “She was brave enough to make the choice three years ago, and now I’m making it, too. So?”

You and your father waited, watching as your mother stood shocked at your father’s words before turning to look at you.

“You’ll regret it. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow. But you will.”

“No, I won’t.”

Then she turned back to your father. “I’ll be at Janice’s if you need me.”

“Goodbye, Dear.”

Your mother did nothing other than turn around and close the door behind her.

“I’m so sorry, Munchkin. I should have said something sooner. Much, much sooner.”

“It’s alright.”

“It’s not. But I will spend the rest of my days trying to make it up to you.”

“Are you really sure you want to live in London?”

Your father paused for a split second. “Maybe a few minutes outside of London.”

You laughed a little, and so did he. “I’m getting a little too old for city life.”

You stood, looking at him for a moment before hugging him. “Thank you.”

“I love you, Munchkin. And I am sorry.”

“I love you, too.”

The following fifteen minutes were spent trying to get your father to consider staying for the night, but he eventually convinced you that he would be okay in a local hotel room - especially since he had a discount from work.

As the door closed behind him, you locked it shut and as you turned around, Lucy came running over and hugged you.

“It’s a shit deal.”

“Thanks, Luce. Please tell me George has my beer-”

“Right here.”

“You’re an angel.”

“Was she always like that?” Lockwood asked.

You swallowed your beer with a nod. “It was a little easier in the beginning, but…yeah. Always.”

“Anyone for donuts?” George asked when a short moment came over all of you.

“Yes.”

“Please.”

As Geroge and Lucy left towards the kitchen, Lockwood pulled you back.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Because that was…”

You touched his hand that loosely held yours. “I’m okay.”

Lockwood looked like he wished to say something more, so you waited.

“If…if there comes a day, when you’re not. Promise you’ll come to me? That you’ll talk to me.”

“I promise, Lockwood.”

#lockwood and co #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lucy carlyle #george karim #angst #found family #renew lockwood and co #fluff #love #anthony lockwood x fe!reader #lockwood and co x fe!reader

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dragonfly0808 · 4 months

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Aisha: The Thesis

I don’t know if I have to keep saying this but SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE FUCKING REWRITE UP TIL THE CURRENT CHAPTER (S4 CH 14)

First Things First

The very first words on Aisha’s character sheet are: Sporty, socially awkward dancer

I feel like it’s a bit difficult to explain my thought process when it comes to Aisha. I think most of us can agree she was def the most interesting and most fleshed out in the OG, from her badass intro to her backstory and storyline in s2, she was a young girl who ran from home to avoid being isolated and was loyal to the point of risking her life to save her pixie friends.

Something that was very important to me was showcasing Aisha as being socially awkward and having a hard time believing people like her due to her trauma, years of isolation and never really having friends her own age. Her main relations up til this point have been with Nabu (who she stopped seeing when she was about eight and never really knew), Anne (who she fell for but abruptly stopped seeing when she was twelve) and the pixies (who aren’t human and therefore can’t really give Aisha the experience of having very relatable friends)

Due to all this, an important focus for me in s2 was showing Aisha as feeling like an outsider, she’s not only new to an already very clearly established group who already fought a war together, but she doesn’t really know how to become part of the group and isn’t always sure whether she’s intruding or not.

I tried to show how her integration to the group is kinda slow, giving her a pre-established friendship with Helia so the two could bond over being the new kids and having her first bonds be with Flora and Brandon.

She doesn’t really feel like a part of the group until the girls’ make a mock welcome-to-the-Winx ceremony that they don’t realize is so very important to Aisha because she’s never been part of a group like this before.

^ All of that makes for someone who is incredibly loyal to her friends, everyone in the Winx is very loyal but for Aisha specifically it goes even deeper in the sense that, these aren’t just her best friends, they’re her first friends, the first people that ever made her feel accepted and safe and didn’t vanish on her.

Imposter Syndrome say What?

Imposter Syndrome is a real thing and Aisha suffers real badly because of it. This is smth I’m exploring in her arc during S4: Generation Why (Talk About How Fast We Grew). This affects her in 2 main ways-

She feels like she isn’t a real part of the squad after the confrontation with the Ancestral Witches back in s3 finale (I’ll talk a bit more about that in a moment)

She feels like she won’t be a good queen and often compares herself to Stella and Sky who’ve gotten more experience in that aspect. Aisha can feel suffocated by the thought of some day becoming the queen of Andros, even if she loves her planet, being ruler seems like smth that would take away most of her freedom, which is pretty much her biggest nightmare.

Now, I’ll take a moment here to say that I feel like I haven’t given Aisha the attention that she deserves due to s2 being when she’s introduced and s3 having so much PLOT going on that the character arcs got slightly lost for most of the squad. In S4 I want to redeem this cause my girl deserves some more focus. I will say that the Generation Why arc won’t be the beginning and end of Aisha’s evolution in s4, though it will have a pretty big impact on how she views certain things.

If I’m All I Have, That’s Enough

One of my fave moments in the entire rewrite, is Aisha’s fight against fake-Anne (the Ancestral Witches) where, as the Witches try to convince Aisha that the squad doesn’t truly care for her and only friends with her out of pity, Aisha makes it very clear that, even if that were true, she’d still fight for herself. Because she knows she’s someone who deserves to be fought for and protected.

But even if no one missed her… Aisha would not give up on herself.

She had been alone most of her life, which meant she’d had to take care of herself. And she wasn’t done doing that.

Maybe she still wasn’t all that comfortable in her own skin. Maybe she was still figuring out who she was and what she wanted. Maybe she still doubted herself and the way others viewed her sometimes.

…but that was okay.

She didn’t need to have everything figured out to know that she wanted to live.

If not to see her friends again… then just for herself.

Because she wanted to meet the person she would become someday.

Because the twelve-year old Aisha she’d once been had deserved to be protected. Just as her future and present self deserved that too.

So if no one was there to save her… then she’d save herself… for herself.

I really wanted to send a message that, while a lot of media will give someone with low self esteem some other motivation to fight for themselves, I really wanted to have Aisha fight for herself, to see that, if no one would fight for herself, she herself would still do it.

It’s a bit hard to phrase but I do think it’s been one of the most beautiful moments in the whole rewrite and while yes, Aisha still doubts herself and her place in the group, she doesn’t doubt that she wants to keep going and that she will fight for who she was, who she is and who she will someday become.

This kinda manifests in her finally standing her ground against her mom and making her see that all the shit she put her through in her childhood was wrong and only affected her in a negative way. It also manifests in her immediately feeling like she was exaggerating (pesky intrusive thoughts) and having to be pulled out of spiraling by Nabu.

I’m really excited to finally give her a bit more attention in s4, beyond just the current arc.

You Can’t Spell Lonesome Without Me

I feel like I’m bouncing all over the place with this thesis but just bare with me please.

Aisha’s main trait as a character is loneliness. She’s been isolated most of her life and, thanks to intrusive thoughts and imposter syndrome, her brain will make her feel alone and like she isn’t a real part of the group, which of course leads her to sometimes be lonely even when she’s with the other girls.

Because you don’t heal from that shit in just one year.

I really wanted this for Aisha cause it’s smth I myself struggle with due to some… really bitchy behavior from certain ‘friends’ in middle school, to this day it will take me 6 months to truly believe someone likes me and isn’t annoyed at spending time with me. I’m in college and middle school still haunts me, so I think it’s only realistic for Aisha to not instantly heal from what was probably an even worse situation.

Her loneliness is one of your brain constantly sabotaging you even when you’re happy with the friend group you currently have.

Thoughts Behind her Main Relationships

Flora: They are best friends, and their friendship is one of softness and comfort. They’ve both dealt with extreme loneliness and have both felt like not-quite-part-of-the-group at some point or another even if it’s for different reasons.

They have a perfect introvert/extrovert balance and are the best at bringing the other out of their respective comfort zones without making it feel forced or pushy.

Their friendship is midnight tea and sitting on balconies looking at the stars and dancing on the beach and cuddling after nightmares and doing each other’s hair and helping each other forget the pain and remember why they love life.

I feel like their friendship can be hard to explain because their friendship is one of quiet moments, of comfort and softness and the little things. It’s the flowers in Aisha’s sweaters and the seashells on Flora’s necklaces. It’s the comfortable silence and the random dance parties.

Nabu: Something I really wanted to do with this relationship was have Nabu kinda help Aisha heal her inner child. When he reveals his identity, they’re playing on a see-saw, they talk while sitting on swings, they run around the beach kicking water up at each other.

Nabu lets her act like a kid, something Aisha never really got to do thanks to her mom. He lets her feel like she can be childish and embarrassing cause she knows he won’t make her feel bad for it. They feel safe around the other, enough to act however they want to.

Another big thing in their relationship was trust and open communication, their situation is slightly awkward due to having an arranged marriage in their future, Aisha questions both their feelings, if they truly fell for each other or if they were just taking the convenient way out. Nabu is very clear that that isn’t the case and that’s what allows their relationship to flourish.

Going to Nabu is really one of the first times Aisha allows herself to go after something she truly wants, contributing to her coming into her own person.

Brandon: So, I would say Brandon might be Aisha’s first deep connection in the squad along with Flora. Brandon kinda sees right through Aisha and her self-doubt and he’s the one that really helps her start coming out of her shell.

The two are massive extroverts and love any and all outdoors activities, and they bond massively over this, constantly going for hikes, skateboarding or trying out new things.

And yes… Aisha does have a bit of a crush on Brandon at first, due to him kinda being the first guy she connects with in her teenage years, and him being… well… Brandon. While she never makes advances or even thinks about it (cause she would never do that to Stella) this does make her feel like an actual teenager, since she never really got the experience of having a silly little teenage crush.

The two are very close and, since both are very touchy people, it does contribute to the crush. Once the crush phase passes, Aisha sees him as a platonic soulmate, the two have a lot in common but wouldn’t ever really work as a couple cause they have too much in common. They are very supportive of one another and just really get one another.

Who is Aisha in this Rewrite?

Aisha is a young woman learning to be comfortable in her skin and to live and fight for herself.

She’s an incredibly loyal friend who struggles with imposter syndrome and intrusive thoughts. She’s working through that and trying to stop feeling like an outsider.

Aisha is someone who spent most of her life in isolation and wishing to run away, to be free. She’s someone who’s learning and embracing a new meaning of freedom and who is trying to come into her own in a way she can be proud of and that won’t restrict her freedom or make her go back to the lonely girl she once was.

Aisha is someone who, even at her darkest times, will fight for herself.

————

Masterlist

Aisha Moodboard

Aisha’s Instagram

Flora and Aisha Moodboard

Aisha and Nabu Moodboard

Aisha and Brandon Moodboard

#winx club #winx rewrite #winx #winx headcannon #winx fanfic #winx headcanons #winx aisha #winx moodboard #veiled wings and shattered panoramas #winx club rewrite

51 notes · View notes

leajdh · 5 months

Text

Gold rush

Chapter four: Ayo, fuck this. Are we dating? Are we fucking? Are we best friends? Are we something in between that? I wish we never fucked, and I mean that. But not really..

He was just a few more steps away from becoming a living legend. Already praised by the media as the honored one, he made a grave mistake which not only put his Ice Hockey career on hold, it disappointed even his most loyal fans so much so that his reputation sank to an all-time low.

Then he meets you; a retired figure skating champion who is now trying to find her purpose in life after her triumphs, all while still being loved and cherished by the media and public likewise.

Satoru Gojo sees his chance to not only get back unto the rink, but also to regain his former popularity.

But he soon realizes it will be a lot harder to get on your good side, because he's everything you despise combined into one person.

Will you give him a second chance and allow him to redeem himself, or is this going to be the match for your life time?

Gojo Satoru x reader (first person narrator)

Ice Hockey AU

FAKE DATING TROPE

Enemies to lovers

English isn't my first language, so expect some grammar errors

18+!!

LINK TO ALL CHAPTERS:

Against all odds, everything is going smoothly.

It’s only been two days since the picture was posted on my instagram, so I shouldn’t crow too soon, but how can I not when the wildcard Satoru Gojo follows all my rules without any objections?

It’s just too good to be true, but it is true.

At least for now.

We haven’t really started yet with creating a narrative. So far we just handled everything between each other. I sent him a list of rules that he agreed on and we both signed a contract. Our contract likewise our fake relationship needed an expiration date, so we came up with 21 days after his first game at the Stanley cup.

With that we make sure that people don’t suspect us from faking the relationship. We also decided the reason why we will break up is the long distance, something like; My life and home is in Idaho and his life and career is in New York City. I know, not romantic at all, but realistic.

Coming to my rules, they are simple but strict.

Satoru isn’t allowed to post anything without asking me beforehand (exceptions are campaign pictures and videos).

The reason for this rule is simple. I don’t trust Satoru to not post anything stupid that will ruin the narrative I’m going for. With the picture of his head on my thigh, he set a tone for our relationship from which I want to break away. Everything will be family friendly from now on. A lovestory Disney would want to cinematize.

This rule also includes no talking to the media unless his team (which I am part of) approves.

2. Decluttering his social media.

Initially I thought I had to do much more. Suguru told me after the crash Satorus PR-team deleted every party picture or video. It didn’t matter if alcohol was in the frame or not. All this is gone. However, I decluttered even more. Yesterday I started my research on the people Satoru follows. Without mercy I deleted everyone I thought wasn't good for his image to be associated with. The only problematic one I didn’t unfollow is one of his teammates. Toji Fushiguro.

Apparently a welcome visitor at casinos and race tracks. Bad enough for me already, but the cherry on top are the allegations from older women that, before he became a pro ice hockey player, he used to scam them for money and housing.

But I looked more into it and I would rather say these old hags did not really get scammed. More so they were his sugar mamas and now they are mad at him for leaving them. Hence there was never a criminal prosecution.

The biggest problem with Satorus social media are all the girls he follows.

With a lot of them, he publicly hooked up. All gorgeous women; either models, singers or actresses. I gulped at that and thought on how to handle it. My initial thought was to simply not do anything. Just let them follow each other. I don’t want to come across as the girlfriend who is super jealous and if the media figures out (which they will) that Satoru unfollowed all his former liaisons, it will be a headline and I will be the villain.

But this issue clashes with another rule.

3. For the entirety of our fake relationship neither him nor me are allowed to engage in any romantic or sexual relationship with another person. Doesn’t matter if it is happening in real-life or just online. Nothing that can cause any fanfare.

Personally I do not think it will be a problem for me but I have less (a lot less) faith in Satoru. He is known for his playboy lifestyle, so I was generally surprised as he agreed so easily to this rule. Even as I wanted to include a paragraph in our contract that I am given the honor to cut his penis of if he cheats.

Sadly Ichiji told me such a paragraph isn’t legally allowed.

It would have definitely strengthened my trust.

Back to rule 2. I therefore just unfollowed some of them. Some had been canceled before for actually serious stuff like internet scams or selling their fans overpriced junk. As soon as I saw a post with CODE: whateverhernameis20 I unfollowed.

4. I created an excel list with amazing athletes, especially female ice hockey players for him to follow. As an athlete himself, he needs to be more supportive and generally show more interest in what is going on in the sports world.

On different dates he will follow certain athletes so it doesn’t look suspicious that he randomly decides to follow a ton of them. Everything in nibbles.

Saving his reputation is a climb not a shortcut.

5. He attends AA meetings each week. For this rule I was given an annoyed snort from Satoru but he did not say anything after I looked daggers at him. I will drive him there and pick him up, no excuses.

Five rules but the most important one isn’t for him. It is for myself.

I need to try to trust him.

Trusting someone isn’t easy, especially after everything he did to me. But I have to overcome my issues with him to make this work.

In spite of everything, I want him to be loved by his fans again. I want the best for him.

Only when he succeeds will I be able to make peace with myself and move on.

Every therapist would shake their head and rip out their hair at this statement but I never learned how to correctly get over things and move on. All I know are challenges and they made me move forward, so I will handle this my way. The way even Suguru thinks would suit me the best.

Today I am late as I run down the tribune in my boots. Satoru is already training, skating sideways in zigzag lines as Mei Mei screams instructions at him.

Stumbling down the stairs I notice Suguru, who’s intensely watching the training. With a huff I fall next to him on the bench. “Sorry, I’m late but I couldn’t find the pink stockings off the set. I hope white is fine too”, I breathe as I tie my white skates on. Suguru turns his head to the side and watches me, blinking a few times.

As for today, we will take the first official photo of Satoru and I together. Essentially confirming our relationship. So far everything is just rumors, neither of us has confirmed anything. With this picture we will officially start the fake dating storyline.

“White’s his favorite color and it suits you, you look really pretty”, his eyes are glued to my face and he smiles. Before I have the chance to turn red, Mei Meis' scream startles me.

“You’re late!”

I look at her as she is now turned towards me. Apologetic, I put my hands up and Suguru snickers beside me.

“How did your ears survive her screaming all those years?”, Suguru asks me as I finish tying my skates. I put a hand behind my ear and joke: “What did you say?”

He laughs lightly again and I am happy about his reaction.

Standing up I stretch a bit before I go on the ice. Upon hearing no more skates scratching the ice, I look at the rink and see Satoru staring at me, which sends a shiver down my spine.

Since the day I agreed on being his fake girlfriend I have had a hard time maintaining eye contact with him, hell, even being near him makes me unbelievably nervous.

Worst of all, I can’t tell why. I should actually be more relaxed around him since we buried our conflict and work together now, but as soon as I feel his freaky blue eyes on me, I feel like a deer in the headlights.

Suguru softly strokes his index finger over my hip bone. I quickly turn my head towards him.

“Hey, are you alright?”, he asks and looks at me with a frown. His glances never make me nervous. When he looks at me, it feels nice and warm. Meanwhile Satorus peeks make me feel vulnerable like he can see right through me.

All flaws, all my thoughts, open for him to see and mock. His stare gives me a weird sense of self doubt.

I shake the thought off.

“Just feeling a bit fussy”, I sigh: “You know, this is all really weird.”

“I know”, he grins: “but it will all work out, so no need to worry.” I wish I could be as much of an optimist as Suguru. He gets up too and I notice the significant height difference between us. Even with my skates on he is taller than me. Half a head shorter than Satoru, but Satorus is also freakishly tall.

“You are going on the ice too?”, I point at Sugurus' feet which are in skates.

“Somebody has to take the pictures”, he responds.

“Right”, I reply with a neutral smile but internally I am pouting and stomping my feet.

This makes everything even harder. Playing all lovey-dovey with Satoru will be hard enough, but now having Suguru focus on all the details and probably giving pointers.

I should have stayed in bed.

We walk down to the rink entry. I throw the blade protectors to the side and step on the ice, gliding over it with ease. I stop next to Satoru, whose entire focus is on me.

“Good to see you, princess. Looking like there was no pea under your mattress”, he grins and I twist my mouth in confusion.

“The princess and the pea. Did your dad never read you fairytales?”

He knows the answer to that, but he still likes to get a rise out of me.

“I know the fairytale but your comment still makes no sense.”

He skates closer to me and I focus on his nose, so it at least looks like I am looking in his eyes.

“It’s no fun explaining it.”

“No one is forcing you.”

“Well, maybe there was no pea under your mattress but you definitely stood up with the wrong foot.”

I roll my eyes and skate a bit backwards.

“It is my way to say that you look well rested.”

“Thank you?”, I frown, unsure what well rested means. A weird compliment? A strange gag? Whatever it is, nothing about us screams boyfriend and girlfriend.

“And you look well exhausted.”

His hair is flat on his scalp, single pieces of hair glued to his sweaty forehead. He has reddish cheeks and sweat drops travel down his neck to his covered collarbone. He breathes still a bit heavy, the hot air he puffs out turning white due to the temperature.

I curse myself for finding him incredibly hot at this stage.

Why does he have to look hot all the time?

This is unnatural!

“I’ve been here since 7am while you probably had some sweet dream about me”, he grins again, well not again. He is grinning at me the entire time.

“You mean about your sponsors. Burberry wants inclusive rights for my public outfits, making me an ambassador.”

“No need to thank me.”

“I am not thanking you, I will thank you once Dior comes through. Checked clothes do not really suit me.”

He chuckles: “Quite picky.”

“Are you really surprised?”

“Not at all.”

I foolishly look in his eyes and feel that shiver again. Turning my head instantly, I gulp and look for Suguru. He’s talking with Mei Mei, both of them stepping on the ice as well. As they glide towards us, I feel strong arms slinging around my shoulders from behind, holding me into place so I do not slither away. Satoru places his sharp chin on my head and exhales. I’m as frozen as the ice under my feet.

“I know women hate this more than anything, but smile. We are in love or have you forgotten?”

He is right, but how can I smile at him if I can't even look in his eyes. This is going to be a disaster.

“You’re messing up my hair”, is all I can mutter.

He inhales and I feel his broad chest extend against my back. His body is a living heater in this cold hall.

Warmth spreads through my entire body, especially in places I should not feel hot for him.

“Nonsense, you look like an angel”, his chin moves from my head to my shoulder as he leans more forward, his arms still around me.

“Have I ever told you how much your little skirts turn me on?”

My breath is stuck in my throat, even if I had something on my mind to return, I physically couldn’t.

“Well, have I?”

Why does he have to torture me? I shake my head, still unable to move much less talk.

He huffs disappointed. “I would prefer if you used your words, but I will teach you another time.”

He instantly lets go of me and I can barely stand on my wobbly legs, only now noticing that he held me really secure. Before he skates past me towards Suguru and Mei Mei, who are only a few feet away now, he pinches my left butt cheek.

“Now smile, we are in love, don’t forget it”, without giving me a second look, but I know he is grinning like the devil himself.

I will kill him.

“Are you ready?”, Mei Mei asks me. With a dry mouth and still in a state of shock I nod.

I’m the furthest away from being ready.

After what felt like hours, we still did not manage to take a good picture. We tried different poses, tried to fake spontaneous pictures and even left the rink to take some pictures on the tribune. I cross my arms over my chest and try to remain positive. Just one good picture and I can get away from him.

Get a grip!

The worst thing is, Satoru is a natural talent. He looks perfect on every photo, while I look- “It looks like you just met a fan!”, Mei Mei tells me: “You know you can look at him, right?” Why does everyone have to torture me? As if this entire situation isn’t awkward and embarrassing enough.

I sigh loudly and throw my hands up in frustration. “I’m trying”, I mutter. I can’t even look in his eyes for a second, before turning my face away and becoming a nervous wreck.

“Then stop with this customer-service-smile!”, Mei Mei spits back. She isn’t known for having patience.

“I don’t know, each pose seems way too unnatural. I don’t like how the pictures turn out”, even if I had been able to look at Satoru all lovey-dovey, the pictures wouldn’t give me the vibe I want.

“Usually you aren’t being that difficult”, she adds and I want to strangle her.

Satoru says nothing, just leaning on the edge of the rink, waiting for instructions. He hasn’t tried anything funny, but his gaze never leaves me and I am too well aware of that.

I shake the goosebumps off.

“I just don’t like it…”, I mumble and Mei Meis nose flares. I can tell she is angry with my behavior.

Before the situation can escalate, Suguru suggests: “How about we try it again tomorrow with a new approach? It has no value to try and force it now, besides Satoru has a massage appointment in thirty minutes.”

I don’t want another try, I want to get this over with, but Suguru is right, as always. Whatever block I have in my mind, it is my problem and I need to fix it. I chew on nothing and act as nonchalant as possible.

“Okay fine, tomorrow.”, I hum and want to set off, just getting out of the rink and home. But Suguru stops me just as I am about to leave the ice. “Hey, just so you know, you did well. This”, he swirls his index finger in a circle “isn’t easy. It takes time to get used to each other.”

He is so nice. I sometimes hate him for it.

“But Satoru and you will be a great team, I can feel it”, he cracks a crooked smile at me and I smile back.

“That’s the smile I wanted!”, Mei Mei screams over and I instantly lose it, looking back and forth between her and Suguru, whose smile turns softer.

“I will see you tomorrow”, I step off the rink and wave good-bye to Mei Mei and ignore Satorus gaze again.

I’m such a coward.

With a groan I fall on the couch next to Utahime, who is eating soup and watches TV. She turns down the volume and pats my head.

“From your reaction I guess it didn’t go well.”

I just groan more into the soft cushion of the couch.

“What happened? Do I need to kill him? You know I would do it.”

Utahime was against this entire fake relationship. She can’t stand Satoru, thinking the same things as me. He’s arrogant, self-centered and reckless. And his good looks do nothing for her.

I wish I was immune to it too.

“No, not he is the problem. I am!”, I flip over on my back and look up at her: “I get so uptight and irritable when I am around him. I don’t know how to explain it and it affects the photos.”

She frowns.

“You know what this sounds like?”, then she gives me a small grin. “Stop, no, it isn’t like that at all.” And it really isn’t.

The more I think about it, the more it is clear that everything is connected to the first day we met. Hell, we nearly had sex in my car and afterwards we wanted to blackmail each other. Not the best way to start a fake relationship, but I can’t tell her. Nobody knows about any of this and I am just glad no one asked how Satoru even got a picture of his head on my thigh. I’m a good liar but I have no tale for this one.

“So what is it then?”

“I don’t know”, I sob in my hands. Hime just keeps on patting my hair.

“You can always quit, right?”

Another slight fabrication I told her, so she wouldn’t get too concerned. Contractually I’m bound to Satoru until our end date.

“Yes, but I don’t want to”, I sigh: “I just need to get a grip.” Suguru is right, it takes time to adjust to the entire case.

I managed tougher challenges.

I can do it.

“And rethink this entire photoshoot. It looked like we were high schoolers going to our first prom and my parents forced us to take pictures. Maybe we should just hire paparazzi, who take the first picture of us together on a date or whatever”, I sigh, frustrated with myself.

She still pats my head and slurps her soup, just allowing me to let my mind figure out something on its own.

“Or maybe we should just let our PR teams make it official and never post a picture. No, that’s not good either”, I grunt some more and sit up. Instead of answering me, Hime just holds a full spoon under my nose, not saying a word. I put it in my mouth and eat. She knows me. I don’t want any advice, I just want to think out loud.

In the end I know I will find a solution. I always do.

And if not, I still have Suguru, who seems like the true mastermind of solutions.

He will get me.

I can count on him.

I spend the rest of the day running errands and buying myself a new phone using one of Satorus cards.

He insisted on giving me one. Not just to buy a new phone (it was his fault I threw my old one against the wall, obviously), but also for other stuff I want. I told him I don’t want his money, which he didn’t understand. Why else would I have agreed on being his fake girlfriend?

I didn’t have the guts to tell him everything Suguru and I had discussed and my five reasons, so I told him I have my own reasoning and it actually isn’t his business.

While I said that, I got nervous again and couldn’t look at him, crossing my arms to at least look a bit confident.

However, as I mentioned before he can see right through me and I swear to God he stared me down without saying a single word, just to make me more nervous until I had no other choice than to grab the card out of his hand and declare defeat by accepting it.

But this arrangement has nothing to do with money. I’m not buyable. I do this to grow as a person.

And for a new phone (again, his fault I broke it).

After that I will put his card away and never touch it again. I do not want to be in his debt in any kind of way.

It is better if he owes me something, which he does. Just by me agreeing to help him, he is in my debt and I would like to keep it that way.

If he is on the edge of messing up, I can guilt trip him. If he is even really capable of feeling guilt.

At least towards me.

I still don’t get him. How he feels towards me is an enigma.

Does he like me? Ha, good joke. No, why should he? All we did so far was playing with one another. He wants a fake relationship with me because I’m a goody two-shoes in the public eye, not particularly because he likes me.

Does he hate me? Also no, I would say. I don’t hate him. If I was, I wouldn’t be able to do this and so would he.

That’s why my guess is he accepts me but doesn’t particularly like nor dislike me. Just what I feel for him.

Yeah, because whatever I feel automatically applies to him.

Nevertheless what I definitely know is that I am on high alert around him and he fucking knows it and uses it against me. Again a game he plays with me. Something to keep him entertained.

Maybe that’s what he feels towards me. He sees me as a little plaything to help him through the boring time in recovery.

So much for trying to trust him. Not even in my own weird scenarios do I give him the benefit of the doubt that he isn’t a sadistic ass.

Does he really need me to save his career or is it all a charade?

I can’t get this bile of a thought out of my head. He talked too much about my father, who is the coach of his archenemy team. I have the eerie feeling it is all connected to him and Satoru is lying to me. Lying that it has nothing to do with my father.

In the end I have to accept I’m not a special snowflake like Suguru made me seem like in our conversation. Satoru could have chosen hundreds of other girls with a similar reputation as mine without the ties to one of his archenemies.

And again, so much for trying to trust him.

Trust takes time, especially after everything Satoru and I have been through. He probably doesn’t trust me either.

Maybe in the long run I am in the wrong and Satoru has no interior motives, but as long as I am not a hundred percent certain, I will have my doubts.

Keep your fake boyfriend close, but your enemy closer, and Satoru is both for me.

After all I didn’t not hear the final whistle. The match is still on and so far we have the same score.

I fall in my bed and set up my new phone, putting in my old sim card and working through all my notifications I got over the last few days.

It is around 11pm when I suddenly get a text message. I was just looking through pinterest for some inspo pictures for tomorrow's photoshoot as a message pops up: Come over.

I instantly know it is Satorus number. Who else would want to talk to me?

Suguru maybe, but he would word it differently, even better call me.

No, I know it’s Satoru.

For a second I ask myself how he knows I have a new phone but he probably can see the debiting of his card on an app or something.

Why?, I plainly wrote him back after a few minutes of contemplating.

I fucked up, I get back and my heart stops for a second.

Fucked up? What?

This could mean a thousand things.

Satoru, what did you do?, I type faster than I have anticipated.

We didn’t even announce our fake relationship and he already messed up!

Fuck against all odds, I should have known a wildcard like him has no chance of bettering himself.

I go from shocked to angry as he simply answers me: Just come over and I will explain.

He doesn’t need to repeat it another time. I am on my feet in an instant, changing into one of my training skirts and pulling my snow boots on to keep my legs warm. I’m in too much of a hassle to even think about putting tights on. I would only rip them.

How could he manage to mess up already?

I stomp outside and use my phone light to navigate to the resort. It is cold but my anger keeps me warm as I sprint up the stairs onto the third floor. From Utahime I already know Satoru stays in room 301 so I don’t even ask him over text as I knock softly on his door. I’m on the edge of kicking it in, however I don’t want to disturb Shoko, Suguru and Ichiji, who are staying on this floor too.

After a few seconds Satoru opens the door and without an invitation I step in.

“What did you do?”, I walked inside his room, leaning at a wall across his bed and twitching my right leg nervously, waiting for him to finally talk.

But as always he takes his time, closing the door quietly and entering the room, sitting down on the edge of his bed with wide legs. His hair is damp. My guess is he must have showered a few minutes ago. He wears a compress shirt, which must have been a pain to put on after having freshly showered.

I try to only conduct that thought.

Not how unbelievable tight it fits around his muscles and flexes perfectly with every move he makes. Focusing on his pants doesn’t work either.

He wears grey sweatpants. That’s all I have to say.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say he does it to get a rise out of me. Nothing but entertainment for him.

I will not give him this victory. I cross my arms and for the first time in forever I manage to look in his eyes.

Anger wins over nervosity.

“I fucked up”, he just repeats what he told me over text.

I roll my eyes. “For fucks sake, what did you do?”, I want an answer now. No more beating around the bushes. A clear answer.

“I fucked up by believing in you”, his eyes wander from my exposed thighs to my eyes, looking sharp and challenging in a way.

“Eh?”, I mutter and frown, being flabbergasted. He just leans back on his elbows and stares at me. My anger leaves and my confusion mixes with the overall nervosity I feel when I am with him. I instantly can’t keep up the eye contact and look elsewhere. My mind starts to race. I can’t think of a reason why he should not believe in me.

I mean, yeah my doubts about him are good reasons but he doesn’t know about my inner thoughts.

Right?

Yes, right. He is not a mindreader, even though when he looks at me in this certain way I feel like he is.

I hate his piercing blue eyes. They freak me out so much. Of course I think he can read my mind. His type of eye color would be given to supernatural beings in movies. Beings able to read minds.

He laughs deeply and cuts me instantly out of my thoughts. I dare to look at him again. His focus is still completely on me and I clasp my arms firmer around me to calm myself down.

“I believed you would be able to pull this fake relationship off, but you can’t even look at me.”

He noticed.

Of course he did.

Fuck.

I take a deep breath and act nonchalant, giving him a skittish smile.

“You called me over in the middle of the night to tell me that? Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am. So what’s your problem?”, he counters.

“I have none”, I lie.

“Lie”, he immediately fires back.

“I was just frustrated with the whole thing, like come on. The photos looked so fabricated in the worst way.”

“Because they are”, he blurts and tilts his head to the side, analyzing me. God, I hate his glance on me.

“Duh, Sherlock, but it shouldn’t look like it”, I huff and turn my head to the side.

He holds himself more up from the bed and grins: “Well, and aren’t people in love supposed to be able to look at each other?”

I have no answer for that. I’m caught in a dilemma, again. He knows exactly how to get me and he enjoys it.

“So I will ask again, what’s your problem?”

He won’t let go of this theme until I answer him and too bad he seems to be able to read through all my lies.

I contemplate on trying another lie or just sprint out of his room, which would probably be easier than feeding him another fabrication.

However I can’t run away from him or lie my way through this fake relationship.

In the end I agreed on our deal and talking openly about my struggles is hard and even embarrassing, especially in front of Satoru, but I would rather want him to see me as an emotional fool than a wimp.

And I would be damned to be the one quitting this deal.

Letting him win, no.

Even when this shouldn’t be a competition, I can’t stop seeing everything between us as a spiel. Surely I need to accept the rules have changed and now we are playing as a unit and if I go against him, it will bite me in the ass as well.

Granted, I still don’t trust him and probably never fully will, but I need to be able to communicate with him.

“You”, I answer quickly and give him a side-eye. That’s all I can muster.

“Me?”

“You”, I say again without a further explanation.

“Care to elaborate”

Not really, but I have to. I lean against the wall and I am thankful for the dime light in this room. It’s just illuminated by the bedside lamp and the moonlight outside the window.

“Just everything”, I let it slip out and finally decided to be honest: “in the matter of a few hours we went from wanting to blackmail each other to faking a relationship. We lied, argued and I threw your lunch at you. We nearly even-”, I stop but Satoru ends my sentence: “fucked.”

“Correct.”, I bite my lip: “And I could ignore all this and try my best to move on, but you keep looking at me in a way that makes my skin crawl.”

I wanted to add his teasing words and touches too, but then I would have to admit this affects me and for now telling him I have a problem with the way he looks at me is enough to confess.

Small steps.

“I look at you like I look at everyone else”, he sits straight on the bed and has his arms crossed too. I don’t believe him, but he’s more stubborn than me. If he doesn’t admit it on his own, he will never, even when I would call him out on his bullshit.

If he doesn’t want to be honest, I will be dishonest too.

“Good, maybe I just have a general problem with your eyes.”

“My eyes are the problem now?”

“Yeah, your freaky blue eyes.”

He laughs deeply again and his white teeth beam in the light moonshine.

“This is a first one. People normally find my eyes quite beautiful.”

They are.

In a strange way.

But I would never tell him.

His intensely colored eyes aren’t the actual problem. I know it, he knows it. It is the way he looks at me with them. It would freak me out with everyone, but his special eyes make it even harder on me.

“Okay, got it”, he smoothly gets on his feet and walks over to a shelf. Rummaging in the dark through a section he pulls out a sweat headband. I watch him curiously as he slides it over his forehead and over his eyes.

“Problem solved.”

I start to laugh in disbelief.

“This doesn’t solve anything, Satoru. You can’t forever walk around blindfolded.”

He shakes his head and stands tall, looking in my direction.

“Not forever, just until you are comfortable around me”, he says and for whatever reason he actually seems serious.

“This is so stupid”, I mutter and get my full weight back on my legs, no longer leaning against the wall but my arms are still crossed and the frown never leaves my face.

“Stupid is that my girlfriend can’t even look in my eyes without getting flustered.”

“I’m not getting flustered.”

“Sure”, he buzzes and I pucker my lips at that.

He is right, but I would never tell him.

I hate it when he is right. Which he sadly often is.

“Are you looking at me?”, he asks as he steps towards his bed with confidence and sits down again. Weirdly enough he is good at being blindfolded.

“Right at your blindfold”, I answer and pronto earn a smirk from him.

“Good girl, we are making progress.”

I snort at his comment and tap my foot on the floor.

“What now?”, I ask and curse myself for getting a heat flush in my cheeks.

Satoru pats on the spot next to him on his bed. I do him the favor and sit down, his head immediately turning towards me as my weight dents the mattress. “Personally I would suggest that you let me fuck this issue out of your brain.”

I roll my eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, young lady.”

“How did you know?”, I look at the sweatband. It is a thick material that completely covers his eyes. No way he can see me.

“I just know you”, he grins from ear to ear.

“Creep”, this comment even earned me a wider smile from him.

“Yeah, your suggestion is not happening”, I quickly add before he continues his shenanigans.

A big pout appears on his face, which gains him another eye roll from my side. For him to even suggest this out of funsies is moronic.

But what am I even expecting, he literally just blindfolded himself.

Stupid.

Wait.

I sit next to him and look in his face without getting nervous. It works? Weirdly enough.

God, I am pathetic. I’m really getting nervous from his stares. How did I ever win Gold medals when just his eyes make me uncomfortable? I had millions of eyes on me and it never bothered me.

I need to get a grip. Now.

“No, we will do something I never do when I am in bed with a woman”, he leans slightly forward into my space.

“Talk about ourselves and all this other stuff. That’s what you ladies like to do, right?”, another smirk.

“A creep and a sexist too”, this time I didn't roll my eyes. Satoru laughs heavily and lets his back fall flat onto the mattress. His arms over his head as he continues to chuckle with his shirt rolled up, exposing his lower stomach, which moves with his laughter. With all my willpower I maintain myself from looking more downwards.

Damn, these grey sweatpants. They should be illegal.

I would rather look into his eyes now than seeing this. This sight doesn’t just leave me nervous, it makes me think of the night in my car as I nearly said ‘fuck it’ and would have given in to him.

Regret is a cruel thing, especially when I see how everything after that night has turned out. Nevertheless having sex with him wouldn’t have solved anything.

Well, maybe I would be able to look into his eyes or let’s be real, I would be even more nervous around him.

“What’s your favorite color?”, he asks out of nowhere.

“Why?”, I ask instead.

“We are supposed to be a couple and barely know about each other”, he extends his arm and snips with his finger against my forehead: “and hopefully knowing me will help you be more comfortable around me. We are in love after all.”

I rub the spot on my forehead he managed to brush and wonder again how he was able to do that with the blindfold on. After a while I answered him, telling him my favorite color. He tells me his too, but I already know it. Suguru mentioned it today.

We start to talk. First about mundane things like favorite food and seasons, but we soon drift more down into past stories and our general life. Satoru lives in a penthouse on the Upper East Side, and as he told me the price for it, I nearly fainted. He has no siblings and comes from a family of real estate and financial moguls. They weren’t happy with his choice to become a professional Ice Hockey player but Satoru doesn’t care what they think. He never let them dictate his life.

Unlike me who was put into skates the moment I learned to walk. I envy his carefree nature. The entire time we talked he was always positive, witty and completely pleased with himself, like he never regretted one thing in his life. He laughs at his own jokes before he even utters one word and he is quick with his remarks.

He can keep up with me, which is something I appreciate in a person. Do I still think he is arrogant, self-centered and reckless? Yes, but I can see why.

If I had his life and success I would probably behave the same way. You reap what you sow and Satoru was born to be a living victory. Our conversation made me understand him a tad more.

After a while of talking, I lie down next to him, looking at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry for being difficult. I thought it would be easier for me”, I confess and feel him move closer next to me. His head turns and even with the blindfold on I can feel his glare on me. Slowly he spins in my direction and opens his arms. Instead of giving him the hug he seems to ask for, I only frown.

“Stop frowning and come here.”

How does he know?

With an annoyed sigh, he grabs my shoulder and pulls me to his chest, slinging his arms around me. I slightly yelp at his action but let him be as he starts to slide his hand up my back to my neck, gently rubbing circles with his thumb there.

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. We are a team now, mate”

“Mate?”, I grunt in disbelief. All that is left for him to do now is to give me a fist bump and hand me a can of beer before burping in my face.

I can feel him smile into my hairline as he presses his lips against my forehead. Again, I let him. No protest, nothing.

With him it is always against all odds.

“So what are we? We aren’t really dating, we sadly aren’t fucking and I bet you wouldn’t consider me your friend.”

“We are-”, I pause for a good second and think.

“We are something in between that.”

He groans lightly, dipping his nose in my hair.

“Call me what you want, just not mate.”

As if he isn’t calling me princess every other sentence.

“I like partner”, I add and gain another snort from him.

“What, are we a law firm?”, I push lightly against his chest, just now registering that we are really close as I particularly lie in his arms.

“Okay, partner. I have one more question for you.”

“Mhm?”, I murmur, my eyes slightly closed as my hand stays flat on his pec.

“Didn’t I tell you how much your little skirts turn me on?”, my breath hitches in my throat.

“I-”, I start but never finish the sentence, heat glowing in my face. He leans down to hear me better. An act to make me more skittish. As if he doesn’t know exactly that I have no answer.

“Don’t act coy, you knew exactly what you were doing when you decided to pull up in that outfit.”

Did I? Maybe unconsciously.

I try to press myself up, but he doesn’t let me go and crushes my body more into his chest. With a swift motion he rolls us to the side and hovers with his elbows next to my shoulders over me. His face inches away from mine, still with his blindfold on. The only reason I am able to look at him.

“So let me ask you again, partner”, one of his arms travels down my side, stopping right at the end of my skirt.

“Please let me fuck this issue out of your brain”, his fingers play with the hem of it, softly touching my skin.

I don’t move, but my body isn’t frozen like it usually is when I am with him. This situation feels familiar, his fingers on my thighs feel familiar. It was like this when we were in my car. The same grip, the same warmth and the same rawness. I’m not sure if I can resist a second time.

Thankfully my brain is smarter than my body.

“This is a bad idea”, I whisper as his fingers move my skirt up my ass, exposing more of my skin.

“It’s not, trust me. It will help both of us.”

I laugh breathlessly at his answer and stop his hand from moving in between my thighs. I love this fucking blindfold. It really helps to withstand him, but only if I keep looking at his face. Once I get his body in my sight, I will cave in.

“How will it help you?”, I ask in a low tone. He doesn’t care about my hand holding his back from moving up. He slowly keeps going until he reaches the already soaked fabric of my panties.

"Contractual I’m only allowed to fuck you”, he answers and it certainly isn’t written like this in our contract but in a way he is right. We aren’t allowed to have sexual contact with other people, but we can.

I should have phrased it better.

“and sex really helps with the enormous, gigantic, unbearing pain in my leg.”

What a charming idiot.

Even in the dim light I see the feigned pout on his face and I would giggle at that if his fingers weren’t dipping slightly under my panties. Satoru doesn’t move his hand further in, he waits for my allowance.

“Is that so?”, I roll my hips lightly, gaining a low hiss from him.

“Yes.”, he snaps the hem of my panties against my skin, making me quiver.

“Are you trying to guilt trip me?”, I blow into his ear, grazing his earlobe.

“Only if it works.”, he brushes his finger featherlight over my clothed pussy, securing a whiny moan from me.

“Where are the cameras? Want to film me a second time?��, I joke breathlessly, not able to tease him more.

“No cameras, just us. I’m serious.”, he presses his hand now on my abdomen, still waiting for my go.

My go?

In a clear moment I realize what I’m just doing here and all my self-doubts come crashing down on me like an avalanche. I wriggle quickly back, but not entirely out of his hold. Hastily I shake my head and he can feel the movement.

Something in his mimic switches. The playful pout is gone, making his face appear sharp and rough again.

“Use your words”, he demands: “just say no and I will never try anything with you again, I promise.”

Instead of giving him a clear answer to his question I stutter: “What if you don’t like it?”

His forehead is immediately covered in wrinkles as he sits up, his hand appearing from under my skirt to now push down on my right hip. I know this expression so I continue to stammer an explanation: “We are on a good path, I don’t want to risk it by getting intimate.”

“I get that, but why should I not like it?”

A logical question from his part, but a hard one to explain from my view.

By being trimmed to be perfect all the time on ice, the urge to become excellent in every other aspect of my life is present. Not only always looking put together, no, also always performing impeccably in everything I do. With that comes the weakness to care what other people think of me, as if to make sure my act is superb. Not only to the public, but also to people in my private life. I want to be considered perfect by them too. The fake relationship with Satoru wrench this well put together image I created of myself and it irks me. But I try to see it as a challenge to overcome it, not caring about what random people think of me. However this doesn’t apply to people I personally know.

And I know Satoru.

Knowing someone doesn’t instantly mean spending time with them.

Heck, I am no virgin. I went to the Olympics. After the competitions are over, we celebrate with meaningless hook-ups.

There is a reason the organizers put condoms in each room.

But the keynote is meaningless.

It was just one time and I have never seen them again.

I didn’t have the need to perform in such a situation.

Do I still care that they thought I was good? Sure.

But would I freak out if they thought I wasn’t? No.

Because I certainly didn’t care at these moments. They were often quick and fun and over. A good time where I was able to finally let my guard down and enjoy being just me.

I’m sure some of the guys didn’t even know in what segment I was competing, because I for sure didn’t know theres. In conclusion I never acted when it came to sex, because I only ever slept with a person one time.

With that being said, with Satoru it would be different. We will spend time together. A lot of time. He knows me. Dismally the real me.

I showed him my ugly side by being a competitive, stubborn bitch, who would have loved nothing more than to blackmail him out of my rink.

The almost sex in my car was a performance. I wanted to trick him, so I performed in a way I knew he would like. I act and act and act to come across as perfect, but I can’t do this when it comes to real sex.

I never got complaints, but the self-doubt of not knowing for sure if I will be good, is eating me alive. I know I am good on ice, because I train my ass off. Every jump and figure gives objective points. I can count it and get a score, but intimacy is subjective. I don’t know what he likes or dislikes and even the thought of not knowing what he is thinking drives me nuts. Satoru is already an enigma to me, but bringing in the mystery of intimacy?

No, thank you.

Worse is, he is an expert in hook-ups. At least if I believe the tabloids.

Screw that, I saw some of the conversations he had per DMs with some of his liaisons. He is an expert, unlike me.

I can’t keep up this act with him. I am afraid I will slip and perform badly and this will ruin everything between us.

In a god-awful form I would feel the need to be perfect for him, if we sleep together, because in my head he is perfect in this discipline. And now we are back at the core of all evil. My hatred for losing. Losing against him.

What if I like it and I am certain I will but he doesn’t? I would never overcome this foul pain for failing.

“I don’t know, it’s just a thought.”

When I’m with Satoru I mutate into an individual who’s unable to tell a good lie.

And when it comes down to this theme, I can only try to lie. I would never tell him my real thoughts. Not with something that defines my character so harshly. Being perfect.

“It’s a stupid thought”, he states and drops his knees to the ground, sitting in front of me, his upper body between my legs.

I know it is a stupid thought, but it is still lingering in my mind, not going anywhere.

“I promise I will love it.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can”, no hesitation in his answer. He truly believes it and this makes me even more insecure, even if he meant it to take my worries away.

“How?”

His huge hands are sitting on my hips, engulfing my entire frame as he looks up at me, still wearing the blindfold over his eyes. As he leans more forward his broad chest parts my legs even more.

“Because I actually like you.”

I can only roll my eyes at that statement.

“Yeah right, I gave you so many reasons to like me.”

He cackles and presses his cheek on the inside of my thigh, his hands pulling me closer to the edge of the bed towards him.

“Right, you did. You are an absolute cunt”, this bastard chuckles, slightly grazing his teeth along my soft skin. I don’t dare to breathe.

“and that’s why I like you. The beloved, little ice princess for everyone but to me you are a treacherous, filthy wench, who likes nothing more than to see her opponents slowly decay on the ground, while standing winning over them. Fuck baby, we have so much in common. So please, I’m begging you, let me fuck this insecurity out of your brain.”

My jaw is stiff and jammed together. I should yell at him for the way he described me.

But… indeed I give it to him, he is right about me. I’m not the pure Gold medalist I portrait myself to be.

Still his words don’t make any sense. Why would any person like me for being in his words a treacherous, filthy wench. Only psychos would find this real version better than the one I show off to the public.

Well, I called him a psycho before, maybe he really is one.

No… I think?

Eventually after going over his words over and over again, I have no other answer to this than: “Okay.”

And that is all he needs as he pulls me forward with such a force, my back falls flat on the bed. Even with the blindfold on, he knows exactly what he is doing. In a rush and equally eager motion he yanks my panties down my legs, not even being patient enough to completely pull them off my feet, as he arranges my legs on top of his shoulder.

With a hunger I have never experienced with another person, he leaps his mouth unto my pussy. His flat tongue moves up from the hole to my clit, making me jolt.

“This is not-”, before I can continue, he slaps me firmly against my ass, making me choke on my sentence.

“I decide how I will fuck your insecure, wet cunt, so shut up and enjoy.”

I do as I’m told, but I can’t keep quiet for long. I moan his name, not caring about the others on this floor. Satoru isn’t bothered by this, he lets me be as loud as I want to be.

Holding my hips tight, he is not letting me squirm away. Torture, everything is torture with him as he draws slow but steady circles with his tongue. I just know he likes to see me wince, even now when he is physically not able to do so with his blindfold. Feeling his devilish grin appear between my folds each time I whimper, makes me feel more and more like I’m losing. I talked about the debt I don’t want him to have over me.

Well, that is now more apparent than ever before. I will never be able to repay him for this pleasure. I’m a hundred percent convinced.

“I already love it”, he declares before filling me up with two of his digits. I grab into his oh so soft and damp hair, wanting to feel him more. His fingers move in rhythm with his tongue. In and out, slowly like he wants me to suffer. Which I do.

He finds the right spot every time his fingers are back into me. I swear to God he knows it, by the way he can feel my inside starting to clamp around his insanely long fingers.

But he mocks, even ridicules me by not letting me come to my high. I’m so embarrassingly close to begging him.

To please just let me cum. To please just let me finally lose, so I accept it sooner that I will be in his debt forever.

Luckily he picks up his speed once I clasp my legs around his face, resting my heels on his hard shoulders.

“So perfect for me”, he chuffs and every little insecurities in felt before melted right away at his words.

I won’t tell him I’m close, I just want to cum without him dragging it out over and over again.

And he will if he knows.

Yet, I’m not good at keeping my closeness hidden as I grind absolutely feral and needy against his tongue, shifting my hips hastily up and down. Just chasing my own peak, not caring for a second what Satoru thinks, oddly enough.

But I forgot he has done this rodeo more than enough to read a woman's body. Right as I can almost taste the pinnacle of my orgasm, he stops and bites harsh on my inner thigh. I jerk up, completely out of breath and mad.

Oh, so mad.

Before I have the chance to throw ruthless cusses at him, he softly kisses the spot and pushes my legs off him, tossing me downright to the side. He stands up towering over my frame on the bed.

“What are you doing?”, I ask with teary eyes in between rapid breaths.

“Did you forget? We are a team now and for our first play I want us to cum together.”

Still I don’t know how he knows exactly where which part of my body is, but he grab my jaw harshly and snickers: “I know how fucking much you love a fair game.”

His thick thumb presses against my lips and I let it in. A mistake. He pushes it down my tongue, trying to gag me by moving it more and more down my throat. First I can handle it, sucking on it. But Satoru is never satisfied, he always seems to take it to the extreme as he holds my throat with other hand in place, lightly choking me from the outside too. I bite down on it as I can’t take it anymore, finally being able to breathe again as I gasp for air.

“If you ever do this when my cock is in it, you will regret it.”

Spit is traveling down my chin as I look up at him. His face is turned to mine and if he didn’t have the blindfold on his agonizing eyes would look right at me.

“Want to give it a try?”, I counter in a challenging way and instantly hate myself for it. Satoru is unpredictable and I’m not in the state to deal with his dick down my throat when he is sullen.

After a few long, gnawing seconds he smirks at me and I allow myself to fill my lungs with air again.

“Another time gladly”, he just announces before stepping back and gripping the rim of his pants. Satoru hasn’t even seen my naked body, but I can see the rock hard outline on the fabric. I gulp.

“But for today I have already told you my plan.”

His pants are down and he’s not wearing boxers. I knew it from the almost sex in my car that he is huge, but seeing his cock so close in front of my very sight, I whiz down the bed. Satoru notices instantly and grabs my ankle.

“Satoru, I will die”, I share my unfiltered thoughts with him. I know confessing this will feed his ego well, but I don’t care.

“No one has ever died”, he wipes over his mouth, which glistens with my juice and uses it to pump his colossal cock with his other hand a few times and adds with a wide grin: “so far.”

It is way longer than the average, even with both my hands I wouldn’t be able to completely cover it. The head is soft pink which sticks out against his pale skin and is already dripping precum. His girth is massive and overall slightly curved to the left. Mother nature really has her favorites and she decided to bless Satoru more than everyone I have ever encountered.

“Not funny”, I murmur with a dry mouth as he pulls me towards him again, leaning over me.

“I thought you like challenges.”

“I’m serious.”, and I’m being serious.

He sighs as he slowly reaches out to my face and collects the drool I choked out before. Holding out his flat palm to me, he doesn’t even need to say a word for me to know what he wants me to do. I still hesitate.

“Never took you as a quitter”, oh, this fucking asshole.

He knows exactly how to rile me up.

I spit in his hand, drawing a little smile out of his focused face as he coats his length with it.

With his range I will need all the help I can get, even when my pussy is right now more wet than she ever was.

Casually he leans on top of me, upholds his own weight with his left arm, so he doesn’t crush me as his right hand aligns the tip of his cock with my hole. I stop squirming and let him gradually insert his tip in. I whine into his shoulder, biting down on his neck as my hands claw into his back. He gasps heavily and shows mercy by giving me a few seconds to accommodate the sensation.

The only fucking plot twist is, I never truly accommodate to it. It feels like he is splitting me open, leaving me raw and wounded. Once he starts to roll his hips, I see stars and cry into the crook of his neck.

“Psht, my angel, trust me, it will be fine”, he holds my head in his large hand, wiping a tear off my cheek: “I was made for you and you were made for me.”

I can’t even register his lovely words as all my cells are entirely focused on his dick entering me.

He stops the movement of his hips for a second to kiss my temple, before slowly starting to move again after I adjusted myself a bit. I feel more than full, ready to break into two. He is stretching me completely out.

After what felt like forever, he is fully tucked in. At this intensity all I’m able to do is keep my mouth open and try to breathe so I’m not fainting. He was right, he can fuck the insecurity out of me, because my brain is not able to think in this state. Every cell is targeting what Satoru is doing to me.

Gently he takes my hand and guides it down from my chest to my abdomen, letting me palm his bulge inside of me. I can sense it twitching and pulsating inside of me. I whimper.

“See, you didn’t die”, he tries to joke. I would like to think that he does this to smoothen my angst, but he probably means it in a tantalizing way.

“Ready?”, he asks and the rational part of me screams No! but I want to, no, I need him to move.

“Mhm”, I weep and wrap my legs around his waist, ready to let him in even deeper.

“Good”, he quickly purrs and I should have known that he won’t hold back. Slipping out of me, he barges into me again in a rough and provoking manner. Completely out and back completely in. My entire body feels equally nothing and everything all at once. I’m wholly at his mercy as he picks up the speed, pulling one of my legs up his chest unto his shoulder to penetrate me even further. Babbling his name and incoherent words all together, he puts his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet. I sink my teeth into his palm and grab the sheets, hoping my body will get used to it, but it never does. Unable to form a thought, just getting dumbfucked for what felt like hours.

Satoru doesn’t seem to be out of breath, while I get brain fog and grasp that not even my training for the Olympics made me feel this exhausted.

But I don’t want this to stop, it’s painfully good and he hits the right stop each time, bringing me closer and closer but I try my best to suppress the coil forming in my insides that wants to finally be released. He wants us to cum together and he’s not there yet. My hands wander from his back to his chest under his compressed shirt, that clings even more to his body now with all the sweat and heat coating it. Once I touch his chest to caress his solid muscles and he starts to groan gravely into my ear, I can’t take it any more.

“Please, I can’t ‘ake it no more”, I sob: “Allow me to cum, please.”

He only chuckles intensely at my statement, letting his lower body crush more into mine as I feel the waves of mocking laughter.

“I said together”, he is stern again, making it clear that there is no way around. Right now I want to please him more than anything in this world, so I listen and be good.

Picking up his pace again, I notice his thrusts getting sloppier, his groans becoming lower and sharper.

“Now, angel. For me”, and I do as he says as he dives into me one last time, painting my walls with his warm cum. My eyes roll back into my head as I come undone. After a few seconds of breathing heavily with closed eyes I open them again and see him staring at me.

No blindfold.

How could I ever find those eyes scary?

“So beautiful”, at first I thought I said it outloud, but these are Satorus words.

I push his sweaty hair back and kiss him. For what we just did, this kiss feels way too innocent, but it is the ideal ending. Shyly letting my fingers linger against his jaw, he kisses me a second time with more force but still nothing compared to the dirty kisses we shared in my car. Resting his forehead against mine, he pants lightly before giving me his usual wide flirtatious smile.

“Did it work?”

I still lie under his huge body, mouth slightly open and my mind too blown to register what he wants from me.

I just let out a confused noise, which scored me one of his lighthearted grunts. He strokes his nose alongside mine, not breaking eye contact.

“Fucking your insecurities away?”

“Obviously”, I whisper, his eyes being the only things in my field of view. He hovers himself up and glides out of me, making me miss him immediately.

I watch him putting his pants back on as I just lie there, unable to move. For a minute I am sure he broke something in me because I can’t maneuver my limbs.

“No need to thank me”, he discloses with a wide smirk as he pulls my panties up and my skirt down to cover me. I’m actually glad that he isn’t cleaning me up or inviting me to take a bath in his room. I will do this on my own. The kisses were already on the edge of being too romantic. Can’t risk more.

“I wasn’t planning to”, I snap back, becoming defensive again as I lift myself up, feeling the soreness in my legs and core. As I manage to stand up with wobbly legs, Satoru watches me with a fat grin.

“Will you be able to be on the ice tomorrow for the photos?”

I glared daggers at him for this mischievous tone.

“I had tougher challenges.”

“I should have really filmed this, just so I could repeat the part where you sobbed because you thought my dick would kill you.”

Asshole.

I show him my middle finger and step past him, concentrating on keeping my steps steady. I walk to the door and turn one last time around, seeing him leaning against a wall with his arms crossed.

“This was a one time thing”, I declare, but not really believing myself either once I uttered it.

“Sure”, he replies with his mouth twitching slightly upwards. I know he is holding a simper back.

“I’m serious.”

“And I said sure.”

I roll my eyes and open the door.

“No word to anyone”, I demand and slam the door behind me way too loudly for the time of the day.

I hush down the stairs and stroll as fast as my aching legs allow me to home. His cum is already leaking out of me as I step under the shower. I regretted not fucking him in my car and now I wish I could say the regret I felt wasn’t worth it. I should regret sleeping with him, but I don’t.

It was as good as winning feels like, at certain times even better.

But I was right. It has to be a one time thing. He already cracked my body open, no need for him to get closer by doing the same to my mind.

I let him in today. Not just in me, I mean my inner thoughts. I laid my self-doubts out like an open book while he still hasn’t shown me a bit of a vulnerable side.

He gained the lead this night, but I’m on his heels. A second time I won’t let myself be so frail and delicate in front of him.

Never again.

The next day I wake up with throbbing legs and a raw feeling in my bottom line. I swallow two ibuprofen pills and wait for them to hit, so I can at least attempt to put my stockings on. I opt for a light grey set. No skirt, a leggings this time. I won’t be able to stand his teasing today.

I arrive at the rink on time. Suguru is talking with Shoko as I step past them on the tribune. I wave them hello and they both smile at me before falling back into their conversation. I fall heavy on a seat and begin to loosen the ties of my skates, so I can get them on. The painkillers help but everything still feels tender and bruised. Satoru is on the ice already with Mei Mei. Once he notices me, he glides over the ice towards the tribune, ignoring Mei Meis fierce instructions. With his signature smile he walks over to me.

“Hi”, he says before looking me up and down.

“Hi”, I mumble back, able to look into his eyes.

“No skirt?”

“No skirt.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want a certain person to enjoy himself too much.”

He snickers and takes my skates out of my hands.

“Can you walk?”

“No, I flew here”, I roll my eyes: “Of course I can.” barely

“Feisty today”, he catches my legs and gently guides my foot into the skates. He is so enamored in his actions that he doesn’t notice me gloom over his sudden affectionate side.

“How are you?”, I ask him to break the silence as he ties my skate. He quickly looks up at me and tilts his head like he would have never imagined me asking him such a question.

“Good, but I’m pretty sure Mei Mei is actively trying to kill me with this training”, his hair is already sticky again from all the sweat and his pale cheeks are rosy.

God, is he beautiful.

I shake myself in disbelief after that thought.

“But thanks to a certain person the pain in my leg is bearable”, he grins down as he slips me on my second skate.

“So, you and the certain person are even?”

He huffs and looks up at me after tying my second skate.

“Not at all, I still expect a ‘thank you’ card and chocolates.”

“Idiot”, I snarl, but end up smiling. He still kneels in front of me like he did yesterday, but this time it feels lighter, better. Like we made a huge step into the right direction for our deal to work.

“By the way, you did great yesterday, partner”, he slaps my leg a couple of times.

I give him a dirty look and complain instantly: “You are so corny, it is unbelievable.”

Before he can counter something, probably something even more corny, Suguru shouts from a few feet away: “I got the photo!”

We turn our heads confused at his direction as he walks over to us with his phone. He shows us a picture he just took from us. Satoru with his hand on my lower leg, grinning up at me and me smiling down at him.

A real smile. Filled with affection.

“I like it”, Satoru states, getting back on his legs. Both men are now looking at me for approval. I nod, rambling: “it’s really good”, before Mei Mei screams at Satoru to go back on the ice and Suguru tells me he will send me the picture. I just nod again, ignoring what happens around me.

“Hey, are you alright?”, Suguru asks me this question way too often and whenever he does, I am never alright.

The way I smiled at Satoru in this picture.

Ayo I’m fucked.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #enemies to lovers #figure skating #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #ice hockey #satoru gojo

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soft-thrills · 4 months

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XF Fic: Mean

Rating: Smut. Smut smut smut.

Summary: “I think I’d also like it once in a while if you were a little… mean,” Scully says.

Content warnings: dirty talk, name-calling, toeing the edge of degradation, but all in good kinky fun

Smut after the cut. Hope your holidays are happy, friends! Ubeta’ed. I intended to sit down and write something with some redeeming value to society but alas, I could not get this out of my mind, so instead: shameless smut.

They’d had a conversation about a month ago in which he’d asked her if there was anything she wanted that he wasn’t doing.

“I want you to keep your travel receipts in chronological order,” she’d wryly replied.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” he’d said, and the hint of an edge in his voice got right to the core of the thing that she wanted that he wasn’t doing.

And so she’d told him, after a half glass of wine too many.

“Well, I like it when you’re a little rough, which I think you’ve kind of figured out. But I think I’d also like it once in a while if you were a little… mean.”

He grinned. “Mean how?”

“I don’t know, just… you know, don’t hurt my feelings, but maybe you could tease, or kind of, talk dirtier. Jesus, this is so embarrassing, forget I ever mentioned it, ok?”

“Don’t be embarrassed,” he said. “Although I get the sense that maybe that’s what you’re after.”

His ability to see right through her was kind of embarrassing in and of itself, and she knew she was blushing.

They’d had sex then — and he hadn’t been mean, not at all. Instead he’d devoured her, praising her for sharing something she felt shy about, telling her there was nothing she could ask for that would make him think less of her or upset him — not him, a man who’d spent years frequenting porno theaters and calling phone sex lines.

For weeks, the conversation lurked in the back of her mind. She’d almost convinced herself he’d forgotten, except Fox Mulder is not a man who forgets these kinds of things.

And so she finds herself beneath him as he holds both her slender wrists in one of his big hands, pinned above her head. He looms large over her.

“I didn’t forget our conversation last month, you know,” he says, taking her left nipple between his fingers and pinching until she gasps. “You remember it, don’t you?”

She nods, at a loss for words.

“Good. If you don’t like anything I do or say, Scully, all you have to do is tell me, and I’ll stop, okay?”

“Yeah,” she breathes. “Yeah, okay. I understand.”

“Good girl,” he praises her. “Although I think we both know that’s probably not what you want me to call you. I think you want to be a bad girl.”

She arches her pelvis up toward him, silently asking him to touch her there, to slide inside her.

“Already getting to you, huh? You weren’t kidding, Scully. I haven’t even touched your pussy yet and look how desperate you are.”

Mean.

“Oh my god, Mulder, please,” she whimpers. “Please touch me.”

He smirks at her. “All right, but only so I can judge how much my words are getting to you.”

His fingers trail down her body and he dips his index finger between her lips, dragging back and forth a moment before pushing inside her. She arches up into his touch and spreads her legs wider, as best she can beneath him.

“You like spreading your legs for me, don’t you?”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment. She can’t believe he’s talking to her like this, she can’t believe she asked him to. But she’s more turned on than she’s ever been in her life.

“I can feel how much you like it, Scully. You’re so wet for me. Such a dirty girl.”

Suddenly, his finger is gone from her pussy, and a second later, she feels his wet fingers grip her chin.

“Open your eyes and look at me when I talk to you, Scully.”

Her eyes fly open. There’s something about him talking to her like this while still using her last name that makes it feel even dirtier, which she suspects he realizes.

He kisses her, deeply, a reward, a reassurance. He can talk to her like this and still love her. And he can certainly still want her — she can feel his erection against her belly.

“Please, fuck me,” she says. “I want you.”

That grin again. “I know you do. But I’m not done playing around with you. That’s what I’m going to do: play with you like the toy that you are.”

His fingers find her pussy again, and then her clit, a few quick circles. She feels like she could shatter at any moment.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt you this wet, baby. I’m so glad you told me how to treat you. Now I know what you need. And I’m having a lot of fun putting you in your proper place.”

He takes his fingers away from her clit.

“No,” she moans, screwing her eyes closed again. “Don’t stop.”

His wet fingers on her face again but this time, a soft tap on her cheek, the barest suggestion of a slap, sending her eyes back open in shock.

He laughs a little. “I told you to keep your eyes open. If I have to tell you again I’m not going to let you come.”

Mean. She whimpers and nods. Unable to close her eyes, she instead gives voice to the terrible, wonderful feelings warring inside her - the hint of humiliation and the arousal fueling one another.

“Why do I like it so much when you treat me like this?” she asks.

Straddling her, he brings his hands to her breasts and pinches each nipple. He looks bemused, like she is a problem to be solved, and then looks back down at her tits.

“Well, I could tell you it’s because kinky sex is subversive, a way to play with the gender roles we push back against in everyday life. I could tell you lots of people like things in bed they wouldn’t like outside it and there’s nothing wrong with that. I could tell you it’s because you trust me and know that I love you and respect you and we’re just playing around.”

His hands move to her sides, and he drops down to his elbows, briefly kissing down her sternum between her breasts.

Then he looks up at her face, making eye contact.

“But we both know that’s not why you like it,” he says. “You like it because you’re a dirty little slut.”

And then suddenly, his cock is pushing inside her, and his finger is on her clit, and she comes harder than she ever has in her life.

“Well that didn’t take much,” he teases her, and it only extends her pleasure. “So easy.”

His cockiness aside, it doesn’t take much for him to come, either — she’s still thrashing around with the aftershocks when he comes inside her after a few more hard strokes, moaning into the crook of her neck.

When she comes to her senses, he’s rolled off of her and is looking at her with the sweetest smile.

“Wow,” she says, still catching her breath, blushing as she thinks about what he said to her.

“Good wow? Or you never want to talk to me again wow?” he asks.

“Good wow. Thank you for giving that to me. I wouldn’t have been able to let go like that without anyone else,” she says, rolling over and curling into him.

He cuddles her protectively, hands stroking up and down her back, through her hair, wherever he can reach with comforting little touches.

“You did so well,” he says, and while she doesn’t really feel like she did anything, the praise warms her. “But sometimes things like that can hit you after you come down from endorphin rush. If it starts to feel bad, promise me you’ll let me know.”

“I will,” she says.

They lounge a while and it does, indeed, start nagging at her a little.

“You’ll still be able to look me in the eye at work after that, right? It won’t change —”

“Scully, nothing could ever change how I feel about you. I love you more than anything. I respect you more than anyone. I’m honored you’d share your desires with me and I’d never betray that.”

“I know,” she sighs. “I guess it’s just good to hear it.”

It occurs to her he hasn’t said anything about whether he enjoyed himself.

“Did you like it?” she asks gently. “Because I don’t want to ask anything of you that you don’t —”

“You couldn’t tell if I liked it?” he jokes. “It was so hot, Scully. Seeing you melt like that.”

She smiles, and then feels his hot breath on her ear.

“I’ll treat you like a dirty slut anytime you like,” he promises.

She laughs. “Thank you,” she says, and she means it.

#xfiles fic #xf fic #xfiles fanfic #msr #xf fanfic #msr smut

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iuteamstarcandy · 4 months

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[TRANS] 231223 IU 2024 Season’s Greetings Message Daily Desk Calendar

01 Start of a new month~! Let’s work hard, come on!!

02 Don’t be discouraged yet! Keep going!!

03 Let’s stick to our goals for this month!! Fighting!!

04 Wow.. (t/n: it feels like) a month has passed by already..”

05 Don’t get tired~ I heard there will be a lot of good things happening this month !! 🔥

06 You’ll meet a great person in the south today.

07 Today is lucky seven!!! 777!!!!

08 It’s my favorite ‘8’ \ ^O^ / ♡

09 For today’s lunch.. how about cheese tonkatsu? 😮

10 Wah. Already ten days have passed… Uwahh!!!

11 Alright, let’s see now. Starting from the 11th, it will be the end of the month in the blink of an eye.

12 How about being the first to contact a friend today that you haven’t been in touch with? 😃

13 You will miss the 13th day IU today….

14 and I’m missing the 14th day UAENA so much today…♡

15 Half the month is over. Look back at whether there are any things to regret about!!

16 Today… I feel like soondubu (tofu) stew…

17 Have you been exercising? Should we take a short walk today? 🙂

18 Even if you make mistakes, don’t blame yourself too much.

You are always given the chance to redeem yourself!!

19 Did you do something nice for yourself today? 😃♡

20 Oh my, it’s already the 20th. Time to prepare to finish up for the month~!

21 What about giving myself one little gift today?

22 Today is a day in particular that you’re thinking of IU a lot, right? Ask her how she’s doing ♡

23 I really like the 23rd day, with no particular reason. Have a good day ahead ♡

24 Let’s extend little acts of kindness to the people around us first today!

25 It’s a day that you somehow feel like eating a lot for dinner, right?

How about kimchi stew and steamed egg?!!

26 I’m suddenly worried..? You’ve been washing your hands and feet well, right?

27 Have a good sleep tonight~♡ You’ve worked hard ♡

28 An entire month is really coming to an end.

Should we slowly start making plans for next month?

29 Having at least 2 meals a day! Even if it’s just a bit, keep hanging on. Seeing sunlight. Drinking a lot of water! Sleeping well~♡

30 How about writing a ‘monthly diary entry’ like me to sum up the month?

31 You did well ♡ You will do great tomorrow too.

Let’s live this way day by day. Together with me 🙂 ♡

Translated by IUteamstarcandy

Source: IU_winter

#IU #season’s greetings #2024 #message daily desk calendar #translation

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climbthemountain2020 · 1 month

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Flame of Autumn - Chapter 2

Part 3/25 Also on Ao3!

*Mild TW for extremely brief violence.*

Eris

He hated the Hewn City. And more than that, he hated the fucking Night Court. Rhysand and his worthless “inner circle” as he dubbed them. Pretentious assholes who paraded around like they were better than everyone else, despite leaving their very court to its own ruinous spirit.

Of course, Eris made the effort to be cordial, if not somewhat aloof. Sometimes. Eris knew the importance of keeping Rhys and his bat collection in his favor. Their alliance, though fraught with taunting and toeing the line, was vital to him one day overthrowing Beron and becoming High Lord. Truthfully, he could admit to himself and only himself that he was somewhat jealous of Rhysand.

Eris knew that Rhysand wore the same mask he did. A cool, cruel demeanor allowed him to keep things in check, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the High Lord of Night was not that way with his family. Eris could see what his life might have been like if he had people he truly trusted, a family who loved him. He shook the thought out of his head as that trained voice taunted him: No weakness. No consequences.

He straightened his coat a final time as he waited in the stone-walled room for Rhysand and his party to arrive. It wouldn’t do to have him thinking such thoughts once they arrived. Though his mental shields had been honed for hundreds of years, Rhysand could easily tear them apart if he felt particularly cruel. Best to not tempt fate with any sort of redeeming thoughts about the great bat and his gang of merry followers.

He rapped his long fingers against the table in front of him, and only years of training his reactions stopped him from flinching when the massive stone doors abruptly burst open.

Always so theatrical.

Rhysand arrived with Feyre, Cassian, and Azriel in tow. No Morrigan. Not unexpected. Perhaps she’d still tell them one day of the truth behind their encounters, but until she was ready to face that truth herself, he would play the villain. He was a natural.

“So Eris, I hear congratulations are in order.”

How in the fucking cauldron could news have possibly already traveled here? Inwardly he rolled his eyes and outwardly he projected a bored demeanor.

“For?” He refused to give an inch, ever, where the Night Court was concerned.

“We hear a wedding is coming up. A lovely Autumn bride for the fireling.” It appeared Rhysand and Feyre had not told their warriors. They worked quickly to school their shock, but Eris registered it anyway.

“Yes, I’m told she’s wonderful. About the reason I am here today–”

“What? Not excited for your own wedding, Eris? I would think this betrothal is already going much better than your last.” He fought to not grind his teeth, and he watched Azriel tense visibly across the table. So, no truth yet, then.

“My betrothal is going fine. I am not here about that.”

Cassian smiled. “You were certainly willing when you were propositioning my mate.”

Gods, were they ever going to let this go?

“As I have said before, and will say again, I saw her power, and I thought it would be usefully honed in Autumn. I have offered my congratulations to you many times since.” He projected as much exhaustion with the topic as he could into his voice.

More like I saw that your High Lord would mistreat her then hone her into a weapon, but I digress. Seems to have worked out fine.

“I’ve found traces of stores of what appear to be faebane in the oceanside manor.” This stopped them. He had known it would. “The stores were no longer present, but they left behind traces of the stone used for shackles and the powder dusted on arrows as were used in the war with Hybern. I don’t have any ideas where they might have been moved to, but I haven’t seen traces of them within the Forest House.”

The males nodded, then Feyre spoke up. “Do you think Beron is hoarding them with a purpose in mind? His own safety, or an attack on others?”

“My guess would be that he is keeping them to keep tabs on them, as he does all of his belongings. I think if he wanted to use them, or had any use for them, he would have already done so. I would wager he thinks if he keeps them close, that no one can use them against him.” Feyre nodded.

“You’ll keep tracking them and let us know if and where they resurface?” He nodded. He far preferred working with Feyre. Despite their history, she had softened to him after the war, after becoming a mother.

She was young, but practical. She displayed a haughty aura in situations that called for it, but she wasn’t unnecessarily cruel in the way Rhysand could often be. He respected her more for the things she’d been through, even as a human.

“I will. Are there plans in place yet for an attack on Beron?”

Rhysand responded this time. “Our spies tell us that this is not an ideal time for an attack. I must agree. If he is staying close to the Forest House and hoarding faebane, it would be prudent to wait until circumstances change to move forward with any planning.” Eris tried not to deflate visibly. It was the same every time for the past few years. One step forward, two steps back. He took the opportunity to stand.

“In that case, that concludes my business here.” Rhysand stood and smirked at him wickedly.

“See you at the wedding, fireling.”

Matilda

This region of Autumn was stunning, the leaves changing like fires racing through the trees as they passed in the carriage. The ride had been very bumpy, so she hadn’t been able to sleep. Not that she’d felt comfortable enough with her uncle to sleep near him anyway. She wished she’d been able to stow away a weapon or two for her journey. Indeed, she’d planned to, but the servants burst in before dawn’s first light today to shove her into embroidered dresses and rip at her hair until it sat in a coronet upon her head.

She sighed lightly as she looked again at the passing scenery. At least she would be seeing new parts of Autumn. She hadn’t been to the Forest House since she was very young, perhaps in her late teens. She remembered the gaggle of rowdy redheaded boys, all roughly around her age and younger, and the sad, eternal eyes of the Lady of Autumn. She recalled with vivid clarity the savage and cold face of Beron Vanserra.

“You’ll be on your own tonight. I will be expected to eat with the family of the High Lord, and you won’t be welcome.” She snorted.

“A female? Unwelcome in Autumn? How unexpected.” His hand shot out to slap her and she reared back, still unfamiliar even after two years with a male raising his hands to her.

“Enough of that, you wretch. You’d better get your tongue in check before you enter the Forest House. Eris and any other member of the family will have you killed for speaking in such a way.”

“Why will it matter to you?” She sneered. “You’ll have your coin and be gone, spending my father’s money.” For a second he looked like he might hit her again, but instead he settled for calling her an ungrateful bitch beneath his breath and turning back to look at his letters.

“Once I am gone, you’ll have no one to protect you.” She fought every single impulse to roll her eyes at her uncle’s feeble claim to have ever protected her from anything. “You’d better hope you can spread your legs and produce an heir with your mouth shut. Otherwise, I’m sure Beron will find a more suitable use for you.”

She winced at the implication. She knew she needed to rein it in before arriving. She truly was being dumped into a den of snakes, and she easily could be killed for a slip of the tongue.

She looked back to the beautiful woods.

I wonder if I might be able to wander the woods here. Will he even let me outdoors?

She let her thoughts wander again to what he might be like.

Would they share a bed? Would he hit her? Ignore her? Pretend she didn’t exist at all?

She had the vaguest recollection of Eris from her visit long ago. He’d been impeccably mannered and quiet for the shortest bit of time he was even there, and then he had been sent off only a day into her trip. While the other boys had been running wild, Eris had sat at the table and displayed incredible etiquette for a fae of no more than twenty. He’d walked with an almost undetectable limp, and she remembered that his hair was a beautiful shade of Autumn red–she’d even been jealous of the wine red color against her auburn orange.

She wondered if he might have grown to be handsome, or if he would now bear the vicious features of Beron as an adult.

As she rested her head against the window to watch the passing trees, she couldn’t get the haunted eyes of the Lady of Autumn, shining starkly in her memories, out of her mind.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #eris x oc #eris vanserra #eris acotar #vanserra brothers #flame of autumn #arranged marriage #allies to lovers

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chelseeebe · 1 year

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don’t you (forget about me)

summary: being forced along to hawkins every summer had always been a drag. but then you meet the doe eyed boy slinging ice cream at the mall and summer changes for the better. but was it destined to stay a summer fling?

wheeler!femreader x steve, we’re gonna pretend steve n nancy weren’t that serious in this ok.

ONE singular use of y/n (bc it is damn near impossible to introduce people without saying their name!!)

a/n my god i’ve been loving the family member x steve lately haven’t i :o already started an angsttyyy part 2 for this.. think taylor come back.. be here angst ;)

you’d always hated getting dragged to hawkins for the summer. it was boring and the people were.. weird.

the only redeeming factor was getting to stay with your cousins, whom you loved.

especially nancy.

she was only a year younger than you but so obviously influenced by everything you did, from the way you styled your hair to how you spoke, showing her new slang from the city.

plus, getting to team up and bully mike was an added bonus.

this summer was going to be different though, nancy had found a job with her new boyfriend at the local paper, leaving you all alone.

she’d begged for the day off when you’d arrived, taking you to the new mall that had opened up in the tiny town, starcourt.

it was all very bright and always bustling, full of kids on their summer vacation.

maybe you could hang out here this summer, at least there was air conditioning.

nancy tries to drag you into the stationary store but you point blank refuse, knowing just how long she’d take, obsessing over paper quality and ink flow.

i’m gonna go get ice cream,’ nodding over to the sailor themed shop, ‘please, don’t be hours in there.’

she drops your hand, flashing you a cheeky grin before rushing into the dull store.

you sigh, walking into the ice cream parlour, preparing for the hour long wait you were about to face.

trundling over to the counter, you can see a boy dressed in sailors gear arguing with another similarly dressed girl, perched on the ledge.

she nods towards you, ‘do your thing, harrington.’

he spins on his heel to face you, an enthusiastic smile on his lips, ‘hi! what brings you here today?’

you stare back, slightly bewildered, ‘uhh.. ice cream?’

he leans forward, hands resting on the counter, ‘yeah, we sell ice cream,’ he nods towards the display.

you nod slightly, raising your brows, ‘right.. well, can i order?’

you weren’t sure if he was always a bumbling idiot or if this store was actually a front for some illegal business and he’d forgotten what to actually do.

‘yes! of course,’ he fumbles with the ice cream scoop tucked into his short pocket, not once breaking eye contact.

you smile, honestly out of sheer joy in watching him and his odd movements.

‘just chocolate, please,’ nodding to him.

he doesn’t move, still gazing into your eyes, mouth slightly parted with the remnants of his smile.

the girl behind him clears her throat and he’s kickstarted into action, finally breaking away from your eyes and grabbing a cone.

you stare, mostly in awe, unsure if this was his attempt at flirting with you or if he was generally just.. like this.

he hands you the cone, attempting to flip the ice cream scooper but failing miserably, a loud clattering of metal sounds as it hits the tiled floor.

the other sailor bursts out with laughter, slapping her knee as he bends down, retrieving his scoop and putting it back on the counter with a small sigh.

you bite down onto your bottom lip, wanting to stifle your laughter as his cheeks flush red.

‘thanks..’ you nod, giving him a half-smile.

his eyes meet yours again, not as bright as once before but you can still see the fervour in his eyes.

‘yeah.. enjoy, come back anytime,’ he says, finding his smile once more.

you grin back, walking out of the store, questioning what the fuck had just happened.

‘nice one dingus! that went really well,’ she muses, raising her eyebrows as steve cringes away.

‘just.. shut up,’ he doesn’t even fight back, knowing just how terribly that went.

‘oh.. and that’ll be a buck fifty.. you didn’t charge her,’ she giggles, making it all much funnier.

he just groans, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, placing the bills into the machine.

he stares out of the door, unable to shake the image of your smile from his head, cursing himself for being such a dork.

although steve had longed for it, you don’t come back into the store the next day. or the day after that.

‘look, robin..’ he sighs, ‘there was something different about her, i could feel it.. in my bones,’ he explains to his coworker.

‘oh my god,’ she groans, ‘you’ve said that about near enough every girl that walks through that door.’

‘no, no.. i’m right about this one,’ he reiterates.

in fact, you hadn’t really left his mind at all.

the fact you hadn’t laughed at him and the genuine, sincere smile on your face as he massively embarrassed himself played over and over again.

‘i think you need to get over it,’ robin rolls her eyes, swinging out her legs over the counter and hopping into the background.

steve just shakes his head, turning back to his post, he’d shot gunned being front of store all day, just in case you came in again.

it’s the end of the week before you’re back at the mall, this time on your own.

mike was almost disgusting when you'd asked him to join you, he was too old and far too cool to hang out with you.

you debate going back into the ice cream shop, wanting to see the strange but beautiful brown-eyed boy again.

well, fuck it. if anything, you’d have another funny story and some ice cream.

you sidle into the shop and the ginger girl from the other day looks up, a slightly shocked expression on her face.

she reaches over to ding the bell, ‘hey steve, might wanna get out here,’ she yells through the back.

‘i’m on my break! you can do it,’ he calls back.

you stand, bemused at their exchange, had he been speaking about you?

she raises a finger, telling you to wait and spins to lean through the window, ‘just get out here,’ rolling her eyes.

the boy sighs, walking through the swinging door with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand, crumbs all over his blue uniform.

‘look robin, when i’m on my bre-,’ his eyes slowly meet yours and you raise your eyebrows in faux shock.

he smiles, placing his sandwich down on the counter and brushing himself off.

‘hey! i was waiting for you to come back.. well, not waiting but- just,’ he gives up, ‘ice cream?’

‘oh really? you were waiting?’ you grin, squinting at him.

‘every damn day,’ the girl who’s name you’d learnt was robin adds, ‘like a lil’ puppy.’

he elbows her as she walks into the back room, giggling to herself.

‘don’t listen to her, i was just.. hoping you’d come back, kinda embarrassed myself last time.. had to show you my scooping skills,’ he beams, gripping onto the scooper.

‘riight,’ you nod, ‘well, let’s see em’,’ watching him intently.

‘chocolate?’

‘please.’

he’s slightly smoother this time, not so visibly nervous at least.

‘i don’t think i introduced myself.. my name’s steve, professional ice cream scooper,’ he winks and you giggle in response, finally learning mystery boy’s name.

he goes to hand over the cone before quickly bringing it back towards him, ‘ahh.. well, the thing is.. you can have the ice cream, but i’m gonna need something from you.’

you tilt your head slightly, you’d realised once you’d left the shop that he hadn’t charged you but you didn’t he’d care.

‘okay, what’s that?’ you humour him.

‘a date, with me.. obviously,’ he smirks slightly, the ice cream still hovering in the air.

‘hmmm.. isn’t this like.. blackmail or something?’ you joke, though maybe not so obviously as his face drops.

‘oh, no no.. i was just-,’

‘i’m joking,’ you nod assuringly, ‘sure, i’ll go on a date with you,’ smiling at him.

‘wait, really?’ he looks almost shocked at your willingness.

robin sits up and you can see her head pop up in the window, a completely shocked expression on her face.

‘yes,’ you laugh, ‘but i would like my ice cream,’ you point at the already melting ice cream still in his hand.

he looks at the cone and then back at you, ‘right!’ finally handing over the ice cream, ‘you really wanna go out?’ he has to ask again.

‘yes, but if you ask again i’ll change my mind,’ you say, licking the dripping ice cream.

‘wow.. okay, okay.. tomorrow? i’m off work at like six..’

‘yeah sounds good, i’m up on maple.. big white door, pick me up at seven.. i’ll be waiting,’ you confirm.

‘okay, yeah..yeah,’ he stares back, his mouth slightly open, ‘i don’t even.. i haven’t even asked you for your name.. how rude.’

‘y/n,’ giving him a small smile, beginning to back out of the store, ‘seven sharpish, i don’t like waiting,’ you add before leaving.

it’s awful and you can’t help it but you’re blushing.

he’d been waiting for you.

you can’t ignore the giddy feeling in your stomach.

‘so.. i’m going on a date tomorrow,’ you add, sprawled out your front on nancy’s bed.

‘what? you didn’t think to tell me sooner?’ her eyes widen, a small grin on her face.

‘well it only happened today.. i wasn’t gonna call you at work,’ you laugh, placing the half-read magazine on the bed to give her your full attention.

she prods you with her finger, ‘tell me all about it..’ crossing her legs and sitting up.

‘well.. he works in the mall, and he said he waited for me to come back, you know i told you about that boy completely embarrassing himself,’ you chuckle, remembering back to your first encounter.

‘oh my god, that’s so cute.. what’s his name?’ she questions, bright-eyed and genuinely excited for you.

‘steve.. he works in that ice cream store,’ you nod excitedly.

her face falls slightly and you pick up on it, straight away.

‘what? what was that face for?’

she shakes her head, ‘no.. it’s not- it doesn’t matter.’

‘nancy,’ you sit up properly, now in-level with her.

she purses her lips together, ‘well.. you remember that boyfriend i had.. last year? that’s him..’ she looks back at you, also slightly in shock.

‘that’s steve? oh nance.. i’m sorry, i didn’t even realise.. i won’t go,’ you apologise, reaching over to hold her hand.

‘no no no, oh my god no, i don’t care.. go, it’s just..’ her lips twitch slightly, ‘it’s kinda funny,’ she cracks up, giggling.

you stare at her for a moment until her infectious laugh catches on and you start giggle too.

‘it’s not that funny,’ you say through laughter.

‘i can’t believe that weird boy you were telling me about is steve,’ she says, calming herself from her giggles.

you chuckle, getting back into your comfortable position on her bed, ‘are you sure you’re okay with me going?’

‘i am positive, go have fun,’ she reassures you with a smile.

‘okay,’ you nod, grinning up at your crazy-haired cousin.

on the drive over; steve had racked his brain trying to figure out why the big white door on maple street rang a bell but couldn’t figure it out.

not until you walked out of the wheeler’s house and it had all clicked.

his face a picture as you walk over.

you gave him a small wave before getting into the car, smoothing out your skirt as you sit down.

‘did you.. did you just come out of that house?’ he points over to the large house, a confused expression taking over his features.

you chuckle, nodding, ‘yeah.. nancy’s told me a lot about you,’ you add, staring into his widened eyes as his face drops.

‘wait.. i’m confused.. is this a prank?’ he asks, still none-the-wiser.

you burst out into a laugh, ‘no, oh my god.. i’m nancy’s cousin.. if this is too weird, i completely understand.’

he’s finally on the same page, the look of understanding clear on his face, ‘no.. it’s not, is it?’

‘i don’t think so, nancy didn’t seem to care,’ you shrug, watching as the cogs turn in his brain.

‘okay well, i don’t care either.. do you?’

‘hmm.. nope,’ shaking your head.

‘okay.. good,’ he nods, a small smile emerging, finally finding the humour in the situation.

‘good,’ you reiterate, pulling the seatbelt around you.

he starts the car, still somewhat confused yet amused by it all.

‘you’re.. oh my god, you’re from cincinnati .. shit, how did i not..’ he laughs, clicking his fingers.

‘oh? you already know me?’ you ask, turning to face him.

‘oh yeah, god.. nancy did not shut up about this amazing cousin from out of town, i can finally see what all the hype’s about,’ he raises his brows, clutching onto the steering wheel.

‘well,’ you grin, flattered by your cousin’s obvious love for you, ‘i hope i don’t disappoint.’

‘you’re already well over my expectations of you.. if that helps,’ he glances over before quickly looking back to the road.

‘that’s good to know,’ you smile to yourself, stomach doing flips at his words.

‘don’t get big-headed now.. let’s see how i feel after the date and then i’ll decide,’ he jokes, giving you a small side-smirk.

he was.. calmer outside of work, not so flustered and a whole lot more comfortable around you.

you put it down to those tight, bright blue shorts.. must’ve been cutting off the circulation to his brain.

‘that’s a lot to remember,’ he nods, you’re sat on the grass at the edge of the fair, leaning back on your hand as you take a handful of the cotton candy steve was holding.

‘no it’s not,’ you protest, ‘super easy.. actually,’ you say, biting into the fluffy treat.

‘okay.. so, your mom and dad got divorced.. your dad is mr. wheeler’s brother-,’

‘technically my dad is also mr. wheeler.. but carry on,’ you giggle, motioning for him to continue.

he glares at you with a small smile, face illuminated by the flashing neon lights of the fairground rides, ‘anyway.. mr.wheeler is your uncle.. you don’t speak to your dad much anymore but.. you and your mom still visit every summer..’

you nod along, ‘see, told you it was easy,’ you grin back.

‘that was anything but easy, i put a hundred percent of my brain power into that,’ he chuckles, ripping off a piece of cotton candy.

‘god, your poor little brain,’ you jest, mockingly pouting at him.

he shakes his head rather endearingly, ‘how come i never saw you? i was at the wheeler’s like.. every day last summer.’

you seethe, ‘we couldn’t come last year.. someone failed math and had to do summer school or they wouldn’t graduate,’ you shrug, looking at the obviously intoxicated passer-by.

‘ahh.. so you’re not very good at math then?’ he jokes, prodding your side with his sharp elbow.

‘i never said that someone was me.. but no.. awful at it,’ you laugh, meeting his gaze again.

he just smiles back at you, eyes searching the entirety of your face, you notice as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth.

‘what?’ you laugh breathlessly, shaking your head at his stare.

his gaze drops to your lips briefly before meeting your eyes, ‘i really wanna kiss you,’ he breathes.

‘okay,’ you reply, it comes out as a whisper, giddy at his words.

he’s still resting his weight on his hand as he leans over, weight now unbalanced, the dewy grass slips between his fingers as he practically collapses on top of you and the stick of cotton candy going flying as he just about catches himself before he crushes you.

you stare up at him, eyes-widened at his utter failure to be smooth, giggling in his face as he holds himself up now just inches above you.

‘the cotton candy,’ you pout, turning your head to look at the discarded pink fluff.

his hand reaches up to touch your cheek, moving your head to look back at him, smiling as his lips finally reach yours.

suddenly, the obnoxiously loud carnival music and the screams of riders go silent, a show of muted colours flash behind your closed eyes, the feel of his body on top of yours.

he pulls back slightly, smirking, ‘i totally meant to do that.’

you giggle once more, ‘smooth,’ your arms move to wrap around his neck, tangled into his already outstretched arms.

he pauses for just a second before locking his lips to yours again, his smile incredibly evident through the kiss.

his hand still cradles your face, the mixture of his cologne, fried foods and gasoline fills your nose and you smile back, the kiss becoming a clash of teeth and breathy laughs.

summer might not be so boring after all.

you would never, ever normally be the one to chase a man after a date but there was something about steve, something about last night that had flipped the switch.

you didn’t wanna have to wait for him to call.. eighteen hours was already long enough.

besides, your mom and karen had gone for their annual mother’s retreat, meaning day-drinking and shit-talking and anything was better than being stuck at home with ted.

so you traipse into the mall, making a beeline for the ice cream shop, ignoring the pushy salesman grabbing at you.

normally, your heart would be in your throat.. not wanting to initiate things but you felt confident strolling through the walkway.

you’d sat at the carnival field for hours, even after they’d shut down all of the rides, cascaded in moonlight as he rambled on about his dad, telling you all about high school and his ‘golden days’ as he’d called it.

when he’s eventually dropped you off, hours after you should’ve been back, he leant over the centre console of his car with the cheesiest grin on his face and kissed you one last time, you could’ve honestly stayed in the car forever.

the ice cream shop is busier than usual and it takes a minute for steve to realise you’re there, in the middle of serving a customer he falters, unable to continue the order coherently.

his eyes dart between you and the poor dad just trying to get ice cream as he finishes the transaction.

‘hey,’ you simper, smiling as you get to the counter.

‘hey.. i wasn’t expecting you, threw me off,’ he chuckles, readjusting the sailor hat on his head.

‘i couldn’t tell.. totally smooth,’ you’re reminded of his fumble last night, now he’d totally played it off.

‘shut up,’ he remarks, cheeks flushed with colour, ‘what brings you to scoops ahoy? apart from the ice cream of course,’ he moves from behind the counter, closer to you.

‘i was just wondering if you wanna go see a movie later?’ you shrug.

‘yes, yeah.. i’d love to,’ he nods excitedly before looking at his watch, ‘shit.. i’m supposed to be closing.. unless..’ he looks back at robin, who was sat at an empty table reading some gossip magazine.

she looks up at him over the tabloid and rolls her eyes, ‘fine,’ she grumbles, ‘but all of your tips next week are mine.’

his mouth falls open but he doesn’t protest, ‘deal,’ he reluctantly agrees before turning back to you with that same cheesy grin from last night.

‘so it’s a date?’

‘it’s a date,’ he nods, ‘i’m out of here at six.. d’you wanna hang out here ‘til i’m done?’

you narrow your eyes, looking around the brightly coloured establishment, ‘i’m gonna say no.. but i’ll be there,’ you laugh.

‘right, yeah.. see you at six,’ he calls out as you begin to walk away, ‘i don’t like waiting!’

you flash him your middle finger, giggling at his mockery.

it turns out, you’d spend a lot of time in scoops ahoy through the summer.

waiting for steve to finish work or joining him on his breaks, sat in a booth eating far too much free ice cream, sharing soft, vaguely strawberry flavoured kisses.

you also get to know robin, ganging up with her to bully steve, joking about how dorky he looked with that sailors hat perched on top of his quaffed hair.

one night after countless hours already spent with him at work, you’re lazing in his bed, almost dropping off to sleep as his fingers comb through your hair.

you groan into his chest, ‘i need to go..’ repositioning yourself to look up at him, pouting.

‘stay,’ he whispers, ‘fuck the rules,’ his chuckle vibrating his chest.

‘i can’t, my mom’ll kill me..’ you frown, but the way his own plump lips pouted at your denial made your heart skip a beat.

you knew there was now an actual number on how many more times you could do this before you had to go back to virginia.

‘stay..’ he breathes, ‘you’re already half-asleep.. no point in moving just to fall asleep again,’ he shrugs, determined to get you to stay.

‘hmm.. that’s a good point, i don’t have my pajamas though..’

he roars with laughter, shaking as his arm clings onto you, ‘wear something of mine, or do you specifically need your pajamas?’

‘no.. but they’re cute, cuter than your clothes,’ you grumble, slightly offended by his words.

‘yeah i’m sure, but you don’t need pajama’s.. not in steve’s bed,’ he jokes.

you flash him a look, ‘you’re a pervert.. get me something to wear then,’ poking him in the chest.

his eyes widen and a smile emerges, ‘you’re staying?’

you nod, returning the smile, ‘yeah, you’ve convinced me.. somehow.’

he lets go of his hold on you, rolling out of the bed to get to his dresser.

you shiver at the lack of contact, watching as he pulls out numerous options, agreeing on some old hawkin’s high basketball t-shirt.

he throws it over to you, undressing himself as you sit up, beginning to lift your shirt when he stops and you notice his eyes watching you.

‘i knew you were a pervert,’ you remark, suddenly coy, shrinking into the blanket.

‘sorry, sorry..’ his eyes drop to the floor as he steps out of his pants.

you lift the shirt off, left on his bed in just your bra, it’s like you can feel his stare boring into your skin and you look back up to meet his gaze.

‘what?’ you smile slightly, using your hand to cover your chest.

he steps over to the bed, the mattress dips as he sits, leaning over to you.

your cheeks blush, red hot as his hand caresses your cheek, gentle with his touch, ‘you are so beautiful.’

his eyes glisten as they look into yours, his lips connect with yours as his other hand comes up move your hand from your chest, leaving you exposed as he presses closer.

you lie back on the bed, still holding onto his shirt when you hook an arm around his neck.

he pulls back, his lips practically still on yours, breathing heavily and gazing at you.

‘so this is why you wanted me to stay?’ you quip, giggling.

he shakes his head, smiling, ‘no.. i wanted to ask you something.’

you brace, knowing exactly what’s coming next.

you’d thought about it, plenty. unsure of how your relationship would go, or if it was going to stay a summer fling; something you looked back on with fond memories.

‘hmm?’

‘i wanted to ask, if you would be my girlfriend? i know that you’re going back soon.. but i don't wanna lose this.. not without at least trying first.’

you smile up at him but you can't help the apprehensiveness and notices, his own smile falling slightly.

'you know i want to.. it'll be a lot of work, it won't be easy.. at all,' you attempt to make him understand.

'i know,' his thumb strokes your cheek, 'i've thought a lot about this, trust me, i wanna try.'

you swallow but the smile emerging on your face is inescapable, full on grinning at the boy above you.

deep down, you knew there was not a chance in hell you would've ever said no, there was too much unexplored. no way you could go the rest of your life knowing what you'd left behind.

'is that a yes?' he laughs, widening his eyes in anticipation.

'yes,' you nod, joining in with his laughter, 'of course it’s a yes..’

he presses his lips to yours once more, smiling into the kiss.

it’s magical, your stomach does flips as his other hand glides up your exposed torso. intimate but not inherently sexual, just wanting to be close to one another. to jump into his bones and stay there.

the thought of having to say goodbye in a few short weeks only more daunting.

you walk back into the wheeler household, fully prepared for whatever punishment you were to face.

to your surprise, no one bats an eye as you walk into the kitchen, the family and a random group of whom you can only guess are mike’s friends, huddled around the table eating a late breakfast.

‘oh my, you’re back! how was it?’ karen asks, eyes bright as she pushes charred pieces of bacon onto a plate.

you look over to nancy who very quickly widens her eyes and nods, signalling for you to go along with whatever comes out of her mothers mouth.

‘yeah! it was so good,’ you say, not half as convincing as you’d liked.

you weren’t even sure what ‘it’ was.

‘good! nancy loves those lock-ins.. i swear she’s been to so many over the summer, i hope it pays off!’ she grins, giving nancy a small pat on the shoulder.

‘liar,’ mike coughs under his breath and you rightfully shoot daggers at him over the table.

nancy gives him a swift kick in the chin under the table and he grits his teeth but doesn’t react.

‘i’m gonna go take a shower..’ you smile before leaving the kitchen, not wanting any further grilling from your own mom.

as you’re walking up the stairs the group of boys speed past, racing to the basement.

the last curly-headed boy stops and looks up at you, ‘i know who you are,’ he says and you stop, looking down at him over the bannister.

‘okay?’

he gives you a wide toothless smile, ‘i’m steve’s friend.. he’s told me about you, is that where you really were?’

‘errr.. you’re steve’s friend?’ taken aback that the small boy is friends with your fully grown boyfriend.

‘yeah,’ he brushes off your animosity, ‘so, was it?’

‘no,’ you smirk, ‘i was studying.. obviously.’

‘you’re a liar,’ he laughs before joining the others in the dinghy basement.

you roll your eyes and continue to walk up to nancy’s room, awaiting her arrival to fill her in on everything and thank her for saving your ass.

saying goodbye was all the more painful this time round.

without knowing when you were going to see each other next, it was hard to even stay positive.

of course you’d exchanged numbers and even made him a stack of pre-written envelopes with your address on so he was set to reply to your letters for at least a few months.

realistically, it was only a few hours drive but it felt like you were leaving him on the other side of the world, especially after going from spending every day together for the past few months to having no idea when you were gonna see his face again.

his arms are hooked around your waist, clinging on to the last bit of contact for god knows how long.

you sway slightly, arms around his neck as your mom gets into the loaded car.

she’ll give you a few minutes grace but you know she’ll start honking soon.

‘i have to go..’ you mumble, lips pressed against his shoulder.

‘i don’t want you to,’ he groans, not pulling away from the embrace, not yet.

you sniff, eyes brimming with tears, leaning up to place a soft kiss on his cheek, ‘i know.. i’ll call you as soon as we’re back, okay?’

he loosens his grip, placing his forehead to yours, ‘promise?’

you nod, a salty tear sliding down your face, his thumb is quick to wipe it away, ‘promise.’

‘i’ll see you soon.. you better call me every single day,’ he gives you a weak smile, his hand now cradling your cheek.

‘i will.. everyday,’ you laugh shakily, unwrapping your arms from his neck, running your hands down his arms.

he exhales, planting his lips to yours, leaving a short, tender kiss before finally releasing his grip on you, now taking your hand.

he walks you over to your moms car, very considerate to open the passenger door as you give his hand one last squeeze, sliding into the car.

‘bye.. as soon as you get back, yeah?’ his hand rests on the door.

‘i promise,’ you reassure him, a tiny smile on your lips.

he closes the door with a slam, bending over to wave to you and your mom as she starts the car.

the lump in your throat only growing as she pulls down the long drive and you can’t bring yourself to look at him through the mirror.

just knowing that it was the last time for the foreseeable that you were going to see him was too much.

your mom’s hand reaches over to rest on your knee as press your head against the cold window, miserable and without the one thing you’d grown so attached to.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington au #steve x fem!reader #chelseeebe

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