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#it's positive without the pressure of happiness
freshl6ve · 2 days
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𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃
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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑─𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊
₊⊹⁀➴ : Chris had been filming all day with Matt and Nick, and the constant pressure to get everything perfect was wearing him down. His frustration simmered, barely held in check, until it felt like a weight pressing on his chest. When Y/N, sensing his stress, clung to him for comfort, Chris snapped. He couldn’t help but lash out, his words sharp and unkind.
⭑.ᐟ : AGNST, cursing, happy ending
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𝐀 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐋𝟔𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋
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˚⊱🪄⊰˚ : 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫, exhaustion evident in every line of his body. I was already in the living room when he entered, and I immediately noticed the tension radiating off of him. Without a word, Chris stalked straight towards the couch, dropping onto it with an air of weary resignation. The muscles in his shoulders were visibly taunt, his jaw clenched tight.
I moved silently to the side of the couch, watching him curiously. He had been filming with Matt and Nick all day long, and I knew that the constant pressure to perform perfectly had been taking its toll on him. Chris fidgeted restlessly, unable to find a comfortable position. His eyes were dull and distant, his mind clearly elsewhere.
I couldn't stand to see him like this, so I carefully perched next to him on the couch. At my movement, he glanced in my direction, his expression guarded. I tentatively placed a comforting hand on his arm, hoping to offer some small measure of solace.
I gingerly slid my arms around him, trying to pull him into a hug. Before I could even speak, he bristled, pushing me away with a harshness that stung. “Can you give me some goddamn space?!” he snapped, his voice crackling with barely contained frustration.
Chris surged to his feet, his movements jerky and agitated. He practically wrenched himself away from me, putting a few paces between us. “God, Y/N, you're so fucking clingy!” he hissed, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. “Just give me a fucking minute to breathe!”
I stumbled back, shocked and hurt by his words. Chris had never acted like this before, even when he was stressed out. “What the hell is your problem?” I countered, my voice rising.
Chris let out a ragged sigh, running a hand over his face. “You’re my problem, bro,” he grumbled, his voice tense. “I can't breathe for a god damn minute before you're, like, clinging onto me.”
I retorted, my voice tinged with hurt and defensiveness. “I was just trying to comfort you!” I exclaimed, my words tumbling out in a rush. “I saw how stressed you looked when you walked up the stairs, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay!”
Chris threw up his hands in frustration. “Well, if you saw that I looked stressed, then you should know I'm not okay!” he shot back, his voice rising with irritation. The muscles in his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth, bristling under the weight of his frustration.
Chris clenched his fists, his patience fraying as he snapped back. “God, you're so fucking annoying, Y/N!” he bit out, his voice taut with irritation. He raked a hand through his hair again, the movements jerky and agitated. It was clear that he was reaching the breaking point, his usual calm demeanor cracking under the strain of his frustration and stress.
I recoiled, stung by his words. It wasn't like Chris to be so cruel, and I struggled to process his sudden shift in demeanor. “I'm trying to help,” I protested, my voice small and hurt. “You don't have to treat me like an inconvenience just because you're stressed.”
Chris rolled his eyes and turned away, striding down the stairs to his room without a backward glance. I huffed in irritation, chasing after him, determined to not let him brush off the argument so easily. “Don't roll your eyes at me, Chris!” I snapped, my voice rising as I followed him to his room. “You started this argument, not me!”
Chris retorted, his voice growing heated as we entered his room. “It wouldn't have started if you had just given me some space!” He stormed across the room to his bed, flopping down onto the mattress with a frustrated huff.
Chris pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration mounting. “Well, you didn't have to be so clingy and annoying!” he shot back, his words sharp. “You could've given me space without having to be up in my face all the time! You're always hovering, always there, and it's suffocating!”
Chris continued, his voice strained with irritation. “You always treat me like a damn baby! It's so annoying, constantly fussing over me and trying to pamper me. I'm not some fragile doll, goddamnit! I can handle my own problems without you always being there, smothering me!”
I stood my ground, my own irritation bubbling up to match his. “I just want to help you!” I protested, my voice rising in pitch. “I care about you, Chris! And it's not pampering, it's just how I show that I care!”
Chris lunged to his feet, his irritation flaring into outright anger. “I don't need your fucking help! alright?!” he bellowed, his shoulders taut and trembling with the force of his words. “I don't need you constantly hovering over me, like I can't handle my own problems. I'm a grown man, not some pathetic child who needs your constant attention!”
I reeled back, shocked at the harshness in his voice and the coldness in his eyes. I had known Chris for a long time, and I had never seen him so hostile. “You don't have to be such a dick about it!” I snapped back, my voice shaking with hurt. “I'm just trying to be there for you, Chris! Is that so wrong?”
Chris's voice rose to a near screech, his anger reaching a boiling point. “Just leave me alone for once! Leave, goddamnit!” he shouted, gesturing wildly towards the door. “I don't need you here, I don't want you here! Can't you just take a hint and leave me the hell alone?!”
Chris continued to rant, his words becoming more and more unhinged with each passing second. “I'm sick and tired of your constant clinginess and your suffocating presence! You're like a goddamn parasite, never letting me have a moment to myself!”
He paced the room, his movements jerky and agitated. “I can't even think straight with you around, constantly bugging me, asking how I'm feeling. Can't you see that I just need some space?!”
My expression dropped into a sad one, my eyebrows furrowing in sorrow. “You don't mean that, Chris,” I said, my voice soft and pleading. “I know you're just frustrated and stressed out right now, but you don't have to lash out at me like this. I care about you, and all I want to do is help.”
I slowly approached him, my expression still one of hurt and sadness. But Chris recoiled, backing away from me as if my presence repulsed him. “Please, just leave,” he hissed, his voice cold and distant. “Get out of my room. I don't want you here.”
I snapped, my patience finally breaking as my emotions spilled over. “You're such a dick!” I shouted, my voice cracking with anger and hurt.
Chris fired back immediately, his own defenses rising in response. “Well your mouth is always full of it!”
I'd had enough. “Fuck you!” I retorted, my voice filled with a mixture of hurt and anger. I walked over to his green couch and grabbed my dirty clothes and shoved them in my bag. Chris let out a heavy sigh as he sat on his bed, his frustration beginning to subside. As he watched me pack my things, a wave of regret washed over him. He stood up from the bed, his voice soft and pleading. "Y/N, don't pack your things, please. I'm sorry," he said, his gaze fixed on my back.
Chris let out a heavy sigh as he sat on his bed, his frustration beginning to subside. As he watched me pack my things, a wave of regret washed over him. He stood up from the bed, his voice soft and pleading. “Y/N, don't pack your things, please. I'm sorry,” he said, his gaze fixed on my back.
I ignored his apology, too hurt and angry to forgive him so easily. “You told me to leave you alone,” I muttered, my voice cold and distant. “So I'm packing my shit and going home like you wanted me to.”
I continued to gather my things, jamming clothes and necessities into a small bag. I refused to look at him, my heart still smarting from his harsh words.
Chris' expression grew more desperate, his voice thick with regret. “Y/N, I'm sorry,” he pleaded, stepping towards me. “I didn't mean any of this. I didn't mean anything I said, please. I was just frustrated and stressed, and I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have. Please, don't go.”
I maintained my cold demeanor, brushing past him without a glance. I headed into his bathroom, my thoughts racing in anger. I grabbed my toiletries and shoved them into my bag as well, determined to leave as quickly as possible.
Chris called out desperately as I walked past him again. He reached out and grabbed my wrist gently, trying to get me to stop. “Y/N,” he said, his voice pleading.
I refused to look at him, my heart stinging with hurt. “Let go,” I bit out, trying to pull my wrist free from his gentle grip. “I'm trying to leave.”
His voice grew softer, his tone pleading. “Y/N, look at me.” I continued to avoid his gaze, my emotions warring within me. “Please,” he repeated, gently grabbing my chin to coax me to look at him. “Baby, please.”
Reluctantly, I lifted my eyes to meet his gaze. The pain in his expression mirrored the ache in my own heart. His grip on my chin was gentle, yet firm, as if he was scared to let go, afraid I would slip away from him.
“I'm sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't mean anything I said. I was just frustrated and stressed, and I took it out on you. I didn't mean any of it. I don't want you to leave, I want you here with me. I need you here. Please, stay. I'm sorry.”
Chris's expression softened as he spoke, his voice laced with regret and vulnerability. “It's not fair for me to say those things to you when you've helped me through so much,” he murmured, his eyes searching mine. “You've been there for me during my toughest times, and I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You didn't deserve it.”
Chris's voice grew softer, his tone laced with a mixture of remorse and affection. “You're not any of the things I said, baby,” he murmured. “I enjoy having you cling onto me, and I really enjoy how you baby me. I enjoy it so damn much. God, I'm so sorry, Y/N. Baby, I'm sorry.”
Chris gently cradled my face in his hands, his touch gentle yet tremulous. His eyes flicked from one of mine to the other, his gaze brimming with vulnerability “Please, stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice catching on the words as tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
“I can’t bear the thought of you leaving, of you walking out that door,” he continued, his voice quivering slightly. “I need you here, Y/N. I want you here. I don’t know what I’d do if you left.”
Chris drew a shuddering breath, the intensity of his pleading almost palpable. “I promise I won’t snap like that again. I’ll talk to you when I’m stressed, I’ll talk to you when I’m frustrated—”
I gently brought my hands to his face, tenderly wiping away his tears. “Baby, it's fine,” I reassured him, my voice soft and understanding. “I know filming has been hard on you, but just talk to me, okay? We don't have to talk if you don't want to; we can just enjoy the silence and the comfort of each other's presence. We'll get through this together, because I'm here for you.”
Chris's expression quivered, his eyes welling with emotions. He leaned into my touch, his own hands still gripping my wrists gently. “You're too good to me,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I don't deserve you. I was such a dick.”
I shook my head, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips. “You do deserve me,” I said, my own voice wavering slightly. “And you deserve happiness. We're in this together, remember? The good times and the bad. I'm not going anywhere, okay?”
Chris's shoulders sagged, as if a weight had been lifted. He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against mine. “Okay” he whispered hoarsly.
I gazed into his eyes, a soft smile playing at the corners of my lips. Then, I closed the distance between us, pulling his face to mine and initiating a soft, gentle kiss. Our lips met in a sweet and tender embrace, the passion between us fueled by a mixture of love and relief.
The kiss was unhurried and sincere, filled with unspoken apologies and promises. We held each other close, our bodies pressed together as the world around us faded into the background. In that moment, it was just us, our connection, and the silent vow to work through our issues together.
Chris and I reluctantly parted, our lips separating just as Nick's voice interrupted us. Chris glanced toward the door, where Nick stood, a playful grin on his face and bags of food in his hands. “Sorry to interrupt,” Nick chuckled, holding up the bags. “but we got food.”
I let out a soft chuckle at the sight of Nick and Matt making their way upstairs from the garage. I look at Chris, my expression filled with a mixture of love and determination. I take his hand in mine and run my fingers through his hair. “Let's go eat and forget about what happened,” I murmur, my voice soft yet firm.
Chris locks eyes with me, his expression softening as he nods in agreement. I lean in and give him a quick peck on the lips, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Come on,” I say, tugging gently on his hand. “I'm starving.”
We slowly make our way upstairs towards the kitchen, the earlier tension between us replaced by a comfortable quietness. Our hands stay intertwined, and every so often, I give his hand a comforting squeeze, silently reassuring him that I'm here and I'm not going anywhere.
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sunarots · 5 hours
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so high school ━━━ atsumu miya
34. no pressure ♡
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Sitting on the floor of the bathroom wasn't how you planned to finish your day. You wanted to come home with your boyfriend and your friends, have a nice dinner, and then celebrate your win. And yet, here you sit on the bathmat, knees hugged to your chest with a towel wrapped around you. After all, when you hide in the bathroom under the guise of taking a shower, you can't come out still dirty. And yet, after two hours, you can't seem to will yourself to move.
He loves you... But how can he know? It's not been long enough, he hardly knows you. Surely he's mistaken. There's so much yet he has to know about you, and you about him. All you know about his family is his brother. What about his parents? Any other siblings? Cousins? Pets? What if he's allergic? What if you can never get a cat? Oh god...
You jump a little at the knock on the door, loud enough so you can decipher it's not part of the song playing through the speaker. You stay in your spot, turning your head to the door and humming with the hope of being heard.
"Hey, everything okay?" Atsumu's voice comes through the wood, the concern evident. You can picture him leaning against the doorframe, eyebrows furrowed with his ear pressed against the door. "Angel?"
Your heart stutters in your chest with a pang of guilt, shifting your weight onto your knees and shuffling towards the door. You unlock it without speaking, settling back into position once again and waiting for Atsumu to enter.
When he does, he immediately closes the door and twists the lock. He spins around and faces you on the floor, sighing and sliding down the door until he's sitting. At first, he doesn't say anything, he just plays with his fingers in his lap with a frown.
You turn to look at him, resting your cheek on your knees. You watch him frantically glance between the floor, you and his fingers on a loop. It's like he's waiting for something. "Atsu..."
"Um, I get it. Don't worry," he whispers, almost being missed by you. He finally looks up at you, eyes glassed over and a wide smile. "Don't worry. I get it. Yer not there yet, and ya probably won't be. I-" His eyes dart away, focusing on the frosted window above the sink. "I'm really sorry, I just- I need ya to know that I really do love ya, and I'm happy for everything we got to do together." He looks back at you once more, quickly wiping at his cheeks before shifting to leave.
You sit upright, your jaw slack at his words. What? Did he just end it with you? You quickly reach out and grab his arm, your free hand adjusting the towel wrapped around you. You tug at him to get him to stop from leaving, heart shattering at the tears on his cheek.
"Oh, Atsu." You reach up and wipe his at tears with your thumbs, settling back down. "I admit, I freaked out when you said...that. I got spooked, because... How can you know you love me? We haven't been together that long, and just- What if you don't really love me and you just think you do, and then we- you decide you don't actually love me once morning and leave?"
Atsumu laughs, a genuine laugh. "Leave ya? Y/n, I mean it. I- This is so stupid. I remember ya being at the Olympics. I saw ya talking to Kageyama and Ushiwaka. I- I asked Omi if he knew who ya were, and Shoyo said that yer close to them. I wanted to come up to ya, but I was told that you were dating Ushiwaka. I've known who ya were, and I thought about ya all the time. I- I know I love ya, because no one I've ever dated has made me feel like you do. I could never leave ya, y/n. Never."
Your hand stays on his cheek, an unfamiliar warmth growing in your chest. You press your lips together in a firm line, trying to think of anything to express yourself to him. You can feel your heart beating in your ears, drowning out everything around you apart from him.
Atsumu hasn't moved, scared that if he does he will lose your touch forever. He savours the warmth, the safeness, the comfort, everything he feels in this moment just in case it's the last. His eyes are still red from the tears, his teeth digging into his bottom lip.
"Atsu, I... I don't know if I can say it yet, but, I'm getting there. I will get there," you promise, dropping your arms and pulling back. "I'm sorry. I should have come and spoken to you, but I just didn't know what to say. No one's... I don't know if you've noticed, but my friends aren't really affectionate like that."
Atsumu can't help the laugh that comes out when attempting to picture your friends be nice. “I think the nicest may be Kuroo, which is probably saying something.”
A smile tugs at your lips, your arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him in closer to you. “It does,” you giggle, burying your face in the crook of his neck.
Atsumu shifts the way he’s sat so you can pull you onto his lap, bringing you closer to him. “Don’t feel any pressure to say it back, but I love you. So much. Thanks for being in my life, darlin’.”
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masterlist. previous | next
summary. after your best friend reveals he’s moving out of your shared flat, you’re presented with a tough choice: let one of the creeps who are begging you to let them move in with you, or find a cheaper flat in another area of town. a do-over couldn’t have come at a better time for you, but your only option for a place to stay is with someone your best friend knew from high school, and his two teammates.
taglist (open!). @reignsaway @yuminako @thiisisntlovely @diorzs @aboutkiyoomi @spicana @bakingcuriosity @kr1nqu @savemebrazilhinata @dazqa @sereniteav @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @sleezzsister @hermaeusmorax @giocriedpower @sophosphorescent @gigiiiiislife @zazathezaer @rrosiitas @iaminyourfloors @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sillygooseymood @ellouisa17 @wakashudou @punkhazardlaw @arminswife12 @libbymeows @thomatri @nanamis-right-tiddie @xerophyides @softpia @from-mae @nymphsdomain @eccedentesiast-sapphic @luvly-writer @tojirin @corvid007 @lollbecca @ferntv
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celticwoman · 1 year
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i'm confident i might finish wuthering heights soon (even though i'm really enjoying it i've been making really slow progress) so
*might do another poll if this one wins cause i'm between jane eyre, dorian gray and gatsby i think
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ronanlynchbf · 8 months
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basically there's been a void inside of me since i was 6 and that's what's wrong with me.
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dougbowser · 1 year
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🥲
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hazelfoureyes · 7 months
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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)
I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.
It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.
⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣
tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time
tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b
When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.
It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆
Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!
I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.
The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.
Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.
And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.
“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.
“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”
“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.
Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”
“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”
Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”
Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.
Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”
“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.
“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”
Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”
Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”
Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.
What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.
“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.
“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”
He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.
"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.
“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."
Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”
“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”
He sighed, “I’m not.”
Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”
He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”
“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.
Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.
With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.
With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.
His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.
His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”
This is ridiculous.
Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.
Nothing.
"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.
He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.
He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.
Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.
After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.
So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.
It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.
Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.
In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.
But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.
Still.
He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.
He held his breath, unconsciously.
With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.
"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."
Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.
Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.
"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.
"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.
But today, they were soft and out of focus.
"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.
"Am I dreaming?"
He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."
"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"
Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.
Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.
"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."
He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"
You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.
"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.
A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.
“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.
“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.
You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”
His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.
"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.
"When was your last time, mon cher?"
Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."
"You're in hell now."
"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.
"Look at me."
Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.
With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.
Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.
He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?
Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.
He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."
Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.
He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.
A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.
"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.
He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.
No.
Not enough.
Too soon.
A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.
He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.
When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.
Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.
He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.
"My doe?"
Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"
"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."
The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.
"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.
Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"
Suddenly, silence.
The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"
"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.
"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.
"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"
Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.
"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"
"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."
"Yet..." She cocked her brow.
"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."
Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"
"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.
She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"
His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."
He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.
But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?
"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."
Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.
For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.
To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.
He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.
Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.
The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.
One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.
You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.
And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.
Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.
He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.
When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”
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ja3yun · 2 months
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Out of My League | S.JY
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footballer!jake x fem footballer!reader
warnings: smut (mdni) unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, cream pie, nipple play, slight overstim, not proof read, anything else lmk!
w.c: 5.5k
REQ: can't stop thinking about football teammate-slash-friend jaeyun whom you've had a secret crush and have never acted on it because you felt like he was out of your league... until that afternoon right after training when you and some of your teammates were at his place, fixing up and getting ready for a pool party. jake let you take a shower in his own bathroom, and when he saw you step out in a sundress for the first time, he knew he won't be able to contain his hidden desires for you much longer...
a/n: hi! first of all, this is european football and not american, soccer basically. i hope you like this anon! i ran to complete this request because i have been dying for an excuse to write footballer jake and imagine him in a strip (for me? it's ac milan or celtic personally). I changed tiny little aspects of it, hope you don't mind! enjoy and reblog, like, comment, etc etc.
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You sprint down the pitch, heart pounding as the ball moves rapidly between your teammates. The opposing team is pressing hard, and you sense the danger building. You catch sight of Jake, your reliable defensive midfielder, positioned just ahead of the backline. With the opposition's attackers closing in, you know it's time to reinforce your defence.
"Jake! Drop back!" you shout, your voice cutting through the roar of the crowd. Immediately, Jake responds to your command, falling back to help the defenders. You watch as he expertly positions himself, ready to intercept any potential threats. His quick reaction provides the necessary buffer, allowing your team to regroup and cover any gaps.
With Jake now deeper, the opposition's forward hesitates. This split-second delay is all your defenders need to mark their men more tightly. With Jake in position, you feel a renewed sense of security. You move to close down the space in front of you, preparing to press any midfielder attempting to break through.
The ball is passed wide to the opposing winger, and your full-back engages, trying to force them towards the touchline. The winger tries to cut inside, but Jake is there, reading the play perfectly. He steps up, intercepts the pass intended for the striker, and quickly looks for an outlet. His composure under pressure is evident as he spots you making yourself available for a pass.
"Switch!" you call, ready to change the direction of play. Jake delivers a precise pass to your feet, and you immediately look upfield, spotting an opportunity. You send a long ball to your winger, who takes it in stride and charges down the flank. The crowd's anticipation grows as he crosses the ball into the box.
There are only seconds on the overtime clock and you know you need to do something, and fast. You sprint into the penalty area, arriving just in time to meet the cross with a powerful header. The ball flies past the goalkeeper and into the net. The crowd of amateur football fans and dragged-along parents erupt in cheers as you and your teammates celebrate.
Jake's face lights up with a beaming smile as he sprints towards you. Without missing a beat, he wraps his arms around you and lifts you high into the air. Laughter bubbles out of you as he spins you around, the world blurring into a whirl of colours and cheers. His joy is infectious, and you can’t help but throw your arms up in delight.
As Jake sets you back down, the two of you share a moment of pure happiness. He places his hands on each side of your face and brings your forehead to his. “You fucking did it,” he whispers, though the excitement in his chest makes the words sound much louder. His lips suddenly find their way to your sweaty forehead and your eyes widen, a faint tingle spreading over your body.
Although he does this every time you score a winning goal - or any goal at all, for that matter - it still makes your heart flutter like a captured bird, frantically beating against its cage. Perhaps that’s why you strive to always score at least one goal every game, just to feel his touch like this.
Jake Sim, your friend and right-hand man on your co-ed college football team, has always had that effect on you. It was quite pathetic really, and so cliché that you almost smack yourself in the face every time you think about him. Harbouring a crush on your best friend is so noughties rom-com it’s almost laughable.
Your infatuation with Jake began two years ago when you both started college. He was in every single one of your classes, a coincidence that felt like destiny. From the first day, his charisma and kindness drew you in, and before long, you found yourself gravitating towards him. When you both signed up for the football team, your bond solidified. Practices, matches, and late-night study sessions became the fabric of your shared routine. You became inseparable, your lives interwoven with a seamless blend of friendship and teamwork.
Jake’s presence was a constant source of solace. His laughter was infectious, his encouragement unwavering. On the field, he was your anchor, always ready to support you, celebrate your victories, and lift you up - both literally and figuratively. Off the field, he was your confidant, your late-night study partner, and your favourite person to unwind with after a gruelling day. He was the only person in this world that never drained your social battery.
Yet, despite the closeness, you never dare to confess your feelings. You convince yourself that someone as perfect and enchanting as Jake can’t possibly see you in a romantic light. It isn’t that you think poorly of yourself - you know you are far from unattractive - but Jake’s effortless charm and the way everyone seems to orbit around him makes you feel like just another face in the crowd. He is so out of your league that you can’t ever fathom him liking you any more than he already does as your friend.
Your heart aches with unspoken longing, each shared smile and inside joke adding fuel to the fire of your crush. You cherish every moment with him, even though it comes with a bittersweet pang. Watching him laugh, seeing his eyes light up during your conversations, feeling the warmth of his arm casually draped over your shoulders - it was all wonderful and agonising at the same time.
In those quiet moments when you are alone with your thoughts, you fantasise about what it might be like if he reciprocates your feelings. But then reality crashes in, reminding you that Jake is seemingly unattainable. So, you keep your feelings locked away, hidden behind the facade of friendship, hoping that someday you might find the courage to tell him how you really feel. Until then, you continue to play, to score, and to revel in the moments when Jake’s lips touch your skin, even platonically.
You don’t get the chance to breathe in this moment with him because suddenly, your team hoists you into the air, shouting congratulatory words. It’s not uncommon for your football team to win; in fact, you’re all some of the best players in the amateur league. But a tight game like this one, with the score coming in at 2-1 thanks to you, is a special cause for celebration.
Amidst the jubilant chaos, you search for Jake's face below you. His adoring smile stretches across his cheeks, his eyes gleaming with awe. He looks up at you as if you're a hero, and for a moment, the world feels perfect.
Jake has always valued you as a player, often confessing during training that he aspires to emulate your skill and dedication. His admiration is no secret, but sometimes you wonder if there is something deeper behind those lingering glances and encouraging words.
“Alright, celebratory party at mine! Bring your trunks,” Jay bellows as the team finally places your feet back on the ground, their energy still buzzing from the win.
Within a beat of being steady, Jake slings an arm over your shoulder, his touch warm and familiar. You feel a shiver run down your spine as he pulls you closer, his fingers casually brushing against your arm. “Hey,” he says softly, “why don’t you get ready at my place? We can pregame a bit before heading over to Jay’s.”
His eyes flick to your lips briefly, and your heart skips a beat. You wonder if you’re imagining it, but the lingering intensity in his gaze makes you question everything, but you quickly dismiss it as pure delusion. “Sure, that sounds fun,” you manage to reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you.
As you walk together, his arm still draped over you, you steal glances at him, wondering if he can hear your thoughts and, fuck, you really hope he can’t. You made the mistake of eyeing him up in his football strip - a black and red vertical striped, tight-fitted top that adorns your school’s logo on the chest, paired with loose black shorts that show off his naturally muscly thighs. You are wearing the same uniform yet it looks like you’re dressed as a bad Álvaro Morata cosplay compared to your friend.
It’s no wonder he never looked at you as a potential romantic partner.
Maybe you could change that with a certain purchase you made last month.
_____
Walking into Jake’s room, you don’t bother to knock, knowing that he’s in the shower as you hear the water running from his ensuite bathroom. You've already changed into your outfit despite telling Jake you would get ready at his place. It isn’t uncommon for you to do this; after all, it is a lot of effort to lug around your makeup and curlers. Plus, you want to surprise him when he sees you.
Jake is so used to seeing you in either your football uniform or casual outfits - a rotation of jeans, leggings, or cargo trousers paired with loose t-shirts or hoodies, sometimes even one of his. It’s very rare he sees you as dolled up as you are right now; maybe the only other time was for his mum and dad’s 25th wedding anniversary.
But today, you have on something much nicer than anything you’ve ever placed on your body before. Last month, you purchased a milkmaid sundress after seeing over 20 TikToks in a row talking about how it appeases the male gaze. Now, you aren’t one to buy into the trap of dressing for a man, making it quite clear to everyone around you that you would rather die than appeal to men in exchange for your own comfort. But this was not just any man - this was Jake after all - and you wanted to be seen by him. So, is it a crime to want to gain his attention?
The dress hugs your curves in all the right places, the soft fabric accentuating your figure while still feeling incredibly comfortable. You look at yourself in Jake’s full-length mirror, turning from side to side and admiring the way the dress flows. The pretty floral pattern makes you look delicate and the way the dress cinches at your waist makes you feel like a princess.
Even though you are trying to impress Jake, you are surely impressing yourself.
The sound of the shower stops, and your heart races. You quickly check your reflection one last time, smoothing down your dress and adjusting a stray piece of hair. The bathroom door opens, and Jake steps out, a towel wrapped around his waist, water still glistening on his skin.
The sight takes your breath away. His tanned skin glows warmly against the stark white of the towel, a striking contrast that only emphasises his natural allure. Water droplets cling to his sculpted chest, slowly trickling down the ridges of his abs and disappearing to an area you’ve been desperate to explore for years. The light filtering into the room catches the droplets, making them shimmer like tiny jewels on his bronzed skin.
Jake’s hair, damp and tousled from the shower, clings to his forehead in a mess of dark waves. The wet shag frames his face perfectly, his puppy-dog eyes peeking through the chaos with a boyish charm that makes your heart thump. His muscles ripple subtly with each movement as he ruffles the back of his hair with another towel, the play of light and shadow accentuating every defined line and curve. The towel rests low on his hips, teasingly hinting at the strong lines of his lower abdomen, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks at the sight.
He pauses in his tracks, hands falling to his sides as his mouth falls open, taking in your appearance. His eyes widen, darkening with an emotion you can’t quite place. The room feels charged with electricity as his gaze sweeps over you, slow and deliberate. You feel suddenly insecure, acutely aware of every inch of your body under his intense scrutiny.
His eyes trail from your face, lingering on your flushed cheeks and the way your hair frames your features. They travel down the graceful curve of your neck to the neckline of your dress, where the delicate lace trim accentuates your collarbones. His breath catches as his stare continues its descent, taking in the way the fabric hugs your waist and flares out over your hips.
When his eyes reach the slit in your dress, exposing a tantalising glimpse of your leg, he audibly gulps, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing in astonishment. His reaction sends a thrill through you, your insecurities momentarily forgotten as you realise just how deeply you’ve affected him.
“Fuck me,” he says in exasperation, his voice barely a whisper, filled with raw desire and admiration.
Jake’s eyes snap back up to meet yours, and the intensity in his gaze makes your heart pound in your chest. He takes a tentative step forward, closing the distance between you slightly, his movements slow and deliberate as if he’s afraid you might disappear.
“You look...unreal,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “When did you, uh, when did you get that dress?” He tries to play the question off as passive but the slight stutter in his voice betrays him.
You feel a surge of confidence mixed with nervous excitement. This is your chance, and you don’t want to let it slip away. “Oh, this?” you say, feigning nonchalance as you do a little twirl, the dress flares out beautifully. “I got it last month. I thought it might be fun to dress up for a change. I am the star of the party after all.” The giggle that escapes your lips makes you cringe but something about this dress is doing something to you, adding a strange allure to your character that you didn’t know was there before.
Or maybe it’s the way you see the boy in front of you physically melt at the sound.
Jake’s eyes follow the movement of your dress, his eyes lingering on the way it hugs your figure. “Fun is one way to describe it,” he says, his voice low. “I always thought you were beautiful but this? This is insane.”
You pause dead in your tracks, eyes widening for a split second as the words filter through your ears and register in your brain. He always thought you were beautiful. It takes everything inside you not to scream into the boy's face with sheer glee, jumping up and down on his bed like you just won the Euros.
You blink a few times, trying to process his words. “You think I’m beautiful?” you repeat, the question tumbling out before you can stop it.
Jake’s leer is steady, unwavering as he looks at you. “Yeah,” he says softly, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. You had to know that.”
You absolutely did not know that. Your heart hammers in your chest, and you force yourself to breathe evenly. Jake's casual demeanour around you has always been so effortless and unassuming that it's almost bizarre to think he ever considered you might know how he truly feels. The realisation is surreal, like stepping into a dream where every moment has been charged with unspoken longing.
“Honestly, no,” you manage, your voice a mere whisper in the quiet between you. “I was completely clueless, I guess.”
His brows knit together in genuine surprise. “Really?”
The reason Jake is so shocked is that for years he has pined after you like a lovesick fool. From the very first day he saw you walk into class, he knew he wanted to be around you all the time - morning and night, evenings and afternoons. If he could keep you close, he would. And by God, did he.
All those lingering touches on your waist as he passed by, the way he held your hand during crowded spaces that weren’t actually that crowded, and the tender kisses to your forehead at every game - those were all subtle hints about his affection towards you.
Jake had never shared this secret with you, but in his first year of college, he received an offer to play for a high-ranking football team, one that could have easily catapulted him into the professional leagues if he dedicated himself fully. But when he learned that you were a midfielder trying out for your own school’s team, his dreams took a backseat to his feelings for you. The chance to stay close to you, to be part of your daily life, meant more to him than any career advancement.
So, he turned down the prestigious offer and remained at college, using the chance to join the same football team as you. Every practice, every game, every moment spent on the pitch was an opportunity to be near you, to support you, and to be part of your world. It wasn’t just about playing the sport he loved - it was about being close to the girl he adored.
He had hoped his feelings would eventually become clear, that maybe the way he looked at you, the way he cheered for you a bit louder than anyone else, would convey what words could not. Yet here you were, completely unaware of the depth of his emotions.
“Yeah, really,” he says, his voice softening with a mix of relief and vulnerability. “I guess I’m not very good at showing it. I should have been a bit more obvious, huh?”
You can’t help but let out a scoff, both amused and touched. “Oh, you think?” you say, your voice tinged with playful exasperation. “The subtlety was impressive, but maybe a little too subtle.”
Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, he tilts his head, his pupils conveying everything he has failed to tell you the past few years, glistening with fondness. His hand lingers on your cheek and his eyes are back on your lips, the same way they were earlier after the game. So you didn’t imagine it after all. 
Your chest rises but refuses to deflate as you hold in your breath, anticipation running rampant through your body. Jake’s fingers gently caress your cheek, his touch both reassuring and electrifying. The proximity of his body, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours, creates a cocoon of intimacy that feels both exhilarating and calming. His eyes lock onto yours with a mixture of hope and desire, and you can’t help but feel a flush of lust hit your core and love punch your heart.
“Do you…feel similar? To me?” he asks, not sure the right way to phrase the question, the words stuck in his throat in fear that you’ll laugh in his face and ruin any potential opportunity he has right not to claim your lips with his own.
Inhaling, you nod. “Yeah, for a long time.” The admission throws Jake off balance, his brain unable to make sense of your words. You had wanted this as much as him?
His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, his intentions clear and unspoken. The air between you is charged, brimming with the promise of what could be. Your heart races, each second stretching into eternity as you wait for him to close the distance.
You’re almost overwhelmed by the urge to grab him and pull him into you, your mind screaming at him to stop teasing and make the move you’ve been craving. The tension is almost unbearable, the anticipation so thick it feels like it could be sliced with a knife. After years of feeling like you never stood a chance, the least he can do is bridge the gap between you two.
And finally, he does. Once he’s certain you won’t back away, Jake closes the space between you with a fervent urgency. His lips crash onto yours, the soft plumpness melding with yours in a symphonic harmony. The kiss is both tender and intense, a mingling of passion and longing that seems to erase all the doubts and fears of the past.
As his lips move against yours, you feel a surge of warmth, a thrilling confirmation of the feelings that have been simmering beneath the surface. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, the contact grounding you at the moment. Every touch, every caress, is electric as if he’s been waiting to show you just how much you mean to him.
“Fuck,” he breathes into your mouth, his voice a low, throaty whisper that sends shivers down your spine. His lips continue their relentless exploration, tilting his head to capture every corner of your mouth. He sweeps his tongue along your lips, his movements slow and deliberate, tracing the contours of your mouth with a possessive tenderness.
The kiss becomes intensified as his tongue glides into your mouth, dancing in a primal and captivating rhythm. He explores you with idle enthusiasm, each caress promising the depth of his affections. His hands slip from your waist to your lower back, pushing you close to him. You can feel the solid heat of his chest on yours, the hard planes of his body pushing into you, creating an internal fire that causes your heart to accelerate.
You respond eagerly, your own tongue meeting his in a passionate tango. Your fingers dig into his still-damp biceps, drawing him closer, your bodies melding together in a way that feels impossibly intimate. The outline of his arousal is unmistakable as it presses against your lower abdomen, the towel he’s wearing doing little to mask his growing need.
The sensation of his hardness against you adds a new layer of intensity to the moment, making your breath hitch and your skin flush with warmth. Every movement, every touch, heightens the urgency of your connection. His hands explore your back with a possessive hunger, his touch sending shivers up your spine. 
His hands move with deliberate slowness, tracing intricate patterns along your spine before dipping lower. As his fingers find the slit in your dress, they pause momentarily, teasing you with the promise of what’s to come. The anticipation builds, your breath catching in your throat, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest.
With a subtle shift, he pushes the fabric aside, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your panties. The intimate contact sends a shockwave through your body, your knees weakening as you lean into him for support. His touch is confident yet gentle, exploring the slick heat between your thighs with eagerness.
Each movement is calculated, designed to elicit the most exquisite reactions from you. Jake’s fingers glide through your folds, finding the sensitive bud that makes your entire body tense with pleasure. He circles it slowly, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you gasp and arch against him.
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against your ear, his voice husky with desire. "I wish I showed you just how gorgeous you are every day, even in your strip. You look like a fucking vision in those grass-stained shorts."
A guffaw of scepticism leaves your lips but is swiftly bitten back when he puts delightful pressure on your nub, robbing the breath from your lungs.
The sensation is overwhelming, your senses heightened to the point where every touch feels magnified. His other hand remains on your lower back, holding you close, ensuring you don’t escape his grasp. The heat of his body, the firmness of his muscles, the way he’s pressed so intimately against you - it all combines to create a heady cocktail of desire that leaves you dizzy and yearning for more.
His fingers dip lower, teasing your entrance before plunging inside with deliberate, agonising slowness. The invasion is both gentle and commanding, a silent declaration of his control over your pleasure. He moves with a skill that makes your breath hitch and your legs tremble, his thumb continuing to caress your clit in perfect synchrony.
Your own hands, now trembling with need, slide from his biceps to clutch at his shoulders. You pull him even closer, your bodies melding together in a desperate bid for more contact. The towel around his waist loosens, and with a determined tug, you discard it, letting it fall to the floor. His arousal, now unencumbered, presses more insistently against you, the barrier of your new dress between you feeling almost unbearable.
"God, I need you," you whisper, your voice a breathless plea.
He responds with a deep, throaty growl, his lips finding yours again in a searing kiss. Your hand moves between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his length. The heat and hardness of him in your grasp send a fresh wave of desire coursing through you. You start to pump him slowly, savouring the feel of him in your hand, the way he twitches and grows even stiffer under your touch.
“Fuck- faster, baby,” he moans into your mouth, relishing in your grip.
You obey his instructions and pump his cock as best as you could, considering your head is in the clouds thanks to his fingers stretching you open. Every stroke of his digits, every brush of his thumb, pushes you closer to the edge. Your moans are soft, breathy, filled with the urgency of your desire. His name slips from your lips in a whispered plea, and he responds by increasing the tempo, his touch becoming more insistent, more demanding as he matches the rhythm of your desperate strokes on his member.
"I can't get enough of you," he whispers against your lips, his breath hot and tantalising.
The universe narrows to the sensation of his fingers inside you, a visceral and intense dance. Your body responds eagerly, hips moving in sync with his touches, each thrust bringing you closer to that wonderful, unavoidable release. The pressure rises, your muscles tense, and you breathe in small, quick spurts. Your grasp on his cock is non-existent, and your foremost focus is now on your own high.
And then, with one final, perfectly timed movement of his pointer and middle fingers pressing up against your wall, you shatter. Pleasure washes over you in waves, your body convulsing in his arms, a keening cry escaping your lips. As you come down from the high, your breaths ragged and your body trembling, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling achingly empty.
"I'm going to make sure I'm never subtle again," Jake growls, his voice thick with craving.
Without hesitation, he pushes you onto the bed, the urgency in his movements undeniable. He stands over you, stroking himself with a mixture of need and appreciation, his eyes dark with lust. In one swift motion, he grabs your panties and tears them away, the sound of ripping fabric echoing the raw intensity between you.
To have you laying in front of him, your pretty new dress that only he has gotten to see you in now splayed across his bedsheets, the slit sitting on each side of you, exposing your wet cunt, it’s a dream come true.
Jake climbs on top of you, his body a solid, reassuring presence. He positions himself at your entrance, his hardness pressing against your slick folds, the tip of his member kissing your clit, causing you to jolt your back off the bed, the feeling overstimulating against the sensitive rosebud. 
His hands grip your hips possessively, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce determination. "All these years," he mutters, his voice a rough whisper, "I fucking held myself back. But I can't wait any longer, baby."
With a powerful thrust, he enters you, the sensation overwhelming as he fills you completely. You gasp, your body arching up to meet him, the sudden invasion a perfect mix of pain and pleasure. He sets a relentless pace, each thrust deep and demanding, his pent-up desire driving him forward.
Your hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you buck up to match his rhythm, your bodies moving in perfect sync. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared passion, the bed creaking beneath you, the wet sounds of your joining, and the mingled cries of pleasure escaping both of your lips.
Jake's left hand moves from your hips, trailing up your body, slipping over the fabric of your sundress. He pulls down the top, exposing your perfect tits. His eyes darken with lust as he watches them bounce with each thrust, a look of sheer delight crossing his features. He hates to admit it, but during drill practices, he eyes the way they bounce under your t-shirt, only wishing to see them bare. This is much better than he could have ever imagined. He leans down, his mouth capturing one of your nipples, sucking and nibbling with a fervour that makes you moan loudly.
The sensation of his mouth on you, his tongue swirling around your sensitive peak, sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core, amplifying the feeling of his cock pounding into you, your walls tightening and drawing him in further. He switches to the other breast, giving it the same devoted attention, his teeth grazing lightly, eliciting a gasp from you.
"Jake," you moan, the intensity of the moment building once again. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."
"Never," he growls, his voice a primal promise. "I’m going to make you mine, finally."
His hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your swollen clit. He rubs it in tight, circular motions, perfectly in sync with his thrusts. The added stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your entire body trembling with the force of your impending climax.
His movements become even more urgent, his hips snapping against yours with a force that drives you both to the brink. The friction, the heat, the overwhelming need—it all converges into a blinding wave of ecstasy. Your second climax crashes over you, your body convulsing around him, pulling him deeper into your core.
With a final, shuddering thrust, Jake finds his release, his moan mingling with yours as he empties himself inside you, hot spurts of his cum filling you up to the brim. The sensation of his warmth spreading through you, the feel of his body pressed so intimately against yours, sends you spiralling into a shared afterglow of satisfaction and exhaustion.
Breathless and trembling, Jake collapses on top of you, his weight a comforting presence. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, planting lazy kisses along your collarbone, his lips warm and tender against your flushed skin. His hands stroke your sides gently, tracing the curve of your waist, his touch soothing and affectionate.
"God, I've wanted this for so long," he murmurs between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. "You wouldn’t even believe how much."
Your arms wrap around him, kissing the top of his head adoringly. “I have a slight clue,” you titter, looking down at his exhausted frame. He looks so cute in this position. Ironically, you have been in this exact pose before; cradling him while he places his head on your chest, except typically you’re in matching pyjamas and watching one of his superhero movies.
How it took you both his long to realise you both liked one another is beyond bafflement. 
Glancing up at you with those shimmering eyes and bright smile, Jake pouts the way he always does, making your heart melt. “I really did find you beautiful, before you dolled yourself up like this,” he explains, hoping that you don’t think for a minute that it was the dress that caused this turn of events. It helped, for sure, but he would have fucked you in front of everyone on the first day he saw you if it was socially acceptable.
Kissing his forehead, much like he does to you, you reassure him. “I know. And I fancied you well before I saw you in that white towel,” you laugh, injecting some lightheartedness into the tender moment.
Sitting up and pulling out of you with a hiss, Jake’s eyes roam your body once again. “We should get you cleaned up before we go to the pool party,” he smiles, slightly sad that he has to share you with the team, rather than spend more alone time with you.
“Or…” you trail off, sitting on your elbows.
“Or?” he prompts, curiosity piqued.
“We could stay here? Order in and just relax the way we always do?” The suggestion is symbolic to you both, each of you scared to admit your feelings the past few years for fear that it would change your relationship dynamic. But nothing has to change, rather just adapt around your already established friendship.
Smiling widely, Jake nods enthusiastically. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.” He looks at your exposed breasts, a smirk etching on his face. “Can we add fucking some more to that list?”
You laugh, reaching up to pull him back down into a kiss. “Absolutely, but I was still VIP of the game today so I think I deserve something special,” you tease, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.
He grins against your lips, his hand sliding back down your body to cup your breast. “Fuck yes, anything you want, baby. I’ll make sure it’s better than any trophy.”
His words send a thrill through you, your body responding eagerly to his touch. "Good," you murmur, your lips brushing against his. "Because I've got a few ideas in mind."
_____
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 6 months
Text
Preggers
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: fluff, smut!
a/n: sequel to Racing Simulator, enjoy!!!
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"Fuck.." You sighed closing your eyes. Your palms were sweating and resting on the sink as you waited for the results of the pregnancy test you just took without Lando knowing.
Your mouth went dry and your legs wobbled when you opened your eyes to see another line appear on the test. Positive.
Your body felt as if a heat wave just hit you. You were overwhelmed by a wide range of emotions as you put your hand over you belly trying to make yourself aware that a new life will grow in you in the coming months.
You decided to take the test secretly without anyone knowing because you didn't want anyone to put any kind of pressure on you. You've been feeling weird for the past two weeks and as a woman you knew something was happening to your body something you've never felt before.
The possibility of being pregnant immediately crossed your mind especially after coming onto Lando like a horny teenager that day in his racing chair. You were well aware that there was a great chance you were gonna get pregnant because you were ovulating and that very day you just had to spice it up.
You wisely tried to hide symptoms like nausea, inexplicable feeling of fatigue and headache. You even tried to fool yourself by attributing it all to stress at work, but it was only when you missed your period you decided to stop denying the possibility that you are pregnant. And now that you are standing over the sink looking at two clear lines, you have convinced yourself that a woman's intuition is never wrong.
You didn't even realize that a few tears ran down your cheeks until you looked yourself up in the mirror and blinked a couple of times. Taking a deep breath in you turned on the faucet and splashed cold water over your face to come to your senses before going to look for Lando.
When you finally managed to get yourself together, you went to the kitchen, leaving the test behind in the bathroom. You poured yourself a glass of water looking over the kitchen island at Lando who was lying on the couch in the living room.
"Baby?" He asked looking at you from the couch, but you just kept staring at him without blinking. "Is everything okay?" He asked again, but there was no answer from you which instantly made him get up and walk over to you.
"Y/n, what's wrong? Talk to me." His gaze was full of concern as he cupped your face between his hands making you look up at him.
"I-I.." You stuttered, struggling to get the sentence out. "I have to tell you something." You put your hands over his tightening your grip around them.
"What? Tell me."
"Uh..I.." Nervousness washed over you, words didn't have the courage to leave your mouth because you didn't know what his reaction would be. you didn't often touch on the topic of children even though you had been together for 4 years. You loved each other more than anything, but you wanted to enjoy your youth as long as you could.
"Y/n, please, tell me what's going on. You're all pale and I'm getting really-"
"I'm pregnant." You cut him off making his jaw drop and eyes widen. It took him a second to process what you just said before he chuckled and let out a deep sigh of relief.
"Baby..are you really?" His eyes sparkled. You didn't know at that moment, in fact, you were even confused by his reaction, but it was as if he had been dying to hear those words all this time.
"Yeah..I just took the test in the bathroom" You nodded your head smiling with teary eyes as he pressed his forehead against yours and laughed sweetly before tightly wrapping his arms around yours shoulders.
"You're freaking me out a little with how happy you are" You admit pulling back from the hug to look at him.
"Of course I'm happy. My woman is having my baby. How could I not be?" He couldn't hide his excitement and that was definitely a relief and an encouragement, but you were still kind of terrified of the new unfamiliar situation you found yourself in. "Are you not?"
"I mean..I'm a little scared. I wasn't expecting this now" He raised his eyebrows giving you a doubtful look tilting his head to the side making both of you laugh as he remembered that day he finished inside you without you complaining. "Oh stop it!" You laughed, softly punching his chest before he pulled you to himself again and you leaned your head against him.
"You have nothing to be scared of okay? I'll take care of you, of us. " His words and his hug were enough to erase every fear, every uncertainty and question mark above your head. His embrace was your safe haven, your refuge and your home where you felt the best. "We're in this together. It was going to happen sooner or later."
"You've thought about us starting a family?" You ask looking up at the blue eyes.
"For quite some time now"
"Really?" You asked visibly taken aback, but positively surprised.
"There was one particular moment when I started fantasizing about us having a kid. It was when you met Mila for the first time. When we came for a family dinner at my parents' house and then after a while you disappeared from the table and I found you two in the playroom having a tea party." Both of you smiled as he tucked your hair behind your ear reminiscing the heart warming moment.
"The way you played with her, the way you talked to her..It was so natural for you and she was delighted with you. I was just standing there at the door admiring the two of you and then my mom saw me and it was like she could read my mind right at that moment. She was like "don't wait for too long Lando". And that's when I knew, I knew you'd be the one to carry my baby one day. Nobody else but you."
"Baby, that's so sweet.." It looked like the pregnancy hormones had already kicked in because his words made you a whimpering mess beneath him. You were sobbing as you listened to the man you loved more than anything talk about everything a woman could wish for.
"Just think about us lying in bed in the morning, our baby between us. We're looking at her, kissing her, cuddling her..I can't wait to protect both of you for the rest of my life you know?"
The scene that you pictured in your head was heaven itself just like he described it and now the excitement and joy prevailed in you and the color returned to your face when you realized that everything would be fine. Everything would be just like you've always dreamed of and more.
"Now I can't wait to meet baby Norris." You said quietly giving a soft long kiss to his lips.
"Yeah, baby Norris." He proudly repeated after you loving the way it sounded. "And when are you going to let me make you mrs Norris?" He asked and you smiled shyly looking down.
If it only had been up to Lando, he would probably have married you that day when you met Mila. He knew you were the one for him. You were the one thing he was completely sure of without a single doubt in his mind. You felt the same way about him as well, but you always thought that you should wait a little longer, that you are too young, that you are not in a hurry. There was also a constant pressure from the public that you were not ready to deal with so Lando waited patiently for you to be ready.
"Now is the perfect time to take my last name." He said.
"No, people will think that you're marrying me only because you got me pregnant and I don't want that."
"I don't care what others will think. You and I both know that's not true. C'mon, baby, be my wife." He kissed you and you wrapped your arms around his neck giggling into the kiss as he seemed to propose you right then and there.
"Maybe I should accept it now that you're offering because maybe you won't want to marry me later when I'm all fat and swollen."
"Me not wanting to marry you? That is unlikely to ever happen. Besides," He says between kisses, gripping your ass he pulled you to him pressing you against his already semi hard crotch. "I can't wait to have you walking around with round belly and full breasts. Fuck, it's turning me on so much." His hands moved to your belly gently rubbing it then up to your tits underneath your cropped wide t shirt giving them a tight squeeze.
"Is that so?" You smirk deciding to go along with what he just started. "You gonna help me out with sore breasts?"
"Fuck yes baby. Gonna take such a good care of you. " The soft kisses quickly turned into more passionate and deep ones pushing tongue into each others mouth. "Turn around for me" You do as he pleases bending over the kitchen island as he grinds himself against your butt.
"I'm so hard, can you feel it?" He whispers into your ear making you shiver. Pulling your legging just below your butt, his hand slips inside your panties. His fingers quickly trace over your wet folds before attaching them to your sensitive bud. "So wet for me, fuuuck. You're my good girl, aren't you?" You nod closing your eyes and throwing your head back on his shoulder.
"Arch your back for me" He gently takes your hips in his hands pushing you onto the hard cold surface and collecting your hair into a ponytail. Teasing you with his tip at your entrance you push yourself back against him until you have him deep inside you.
"Ahh, feels so good"
"I wish you could see my point of view right now, so fucking hot." His eyes were glued on his cock disappearing into your pussy, drenching him in your wetness. "I'm not pulling out anymore, I'm gonna cum in you every time you let me fuck you"
"Oh Lando..yess, please"
"Everyone will know that I'm the one who put a baby in you. That I fucked you so good, filled you up so deep, yeah? Shit, baby.." His hands were desperately clutching at your hair while he was slamming hard into your hole. The slapping of your skin against his echoing through the kitchen.
"Yes, you fuck me so good Lando. Keep going, I'm so close." A couple more thrusts later, his hot breath against your skin and soon you were reaching your highs panting out his name.
"Fuck baby, look how much you came" His eyebrows furrowed and lips parted groaning when he saw that you left white ring around his cock taking him again and again. "Gonna play with your pussy every day. Shit, I'm gonna cum, oh shit" The sight drove him crazy, you could feel him pulsating before he spilled his cum inside you pushing his cock as deep as it went.
"You did so good, so so good." His arms pulled you to him trapping you in a tight embrace as he left small kisses on your cheek and your shoulder.
You wince as you feel him pull out of you, your juices dripping down your thighs making him curse under his breath. Unable to resist the urge, his hand slips down to your thighs collecting the dripping cum with his fingers and rubbing it all over your pussy again.
"My beautiful, most beautiful pregnant girl."
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maya1525 · 1 year
Text
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Toge Inumaki’s 👅 + More
18+ MDNI
Pairing✩࿐Fem!Reader X Toge Inumaki
WARNINGS✩࿐Fem! Receiving and giving oral, virgin sex, riding, cream pie (cursed speech used during the deed)
Word count✩࿐4K
BONUS✩࿐Aftercare and love ❤️
Summary✩࿐semi-innocent Toge and his girlfriend reader give each other oral for the first time and then they have sex for the first time.
A/N ✩ — This is the longer and spicier version of my first request.
Toge snuck his fingers down your panties to gently prod your slick privates, already wet with arousal. He’s only ever fingered you a few times, and each time he’d leave you a needy mess. You’ve never came before and aren’t sure how to. But you still enjoy the feeling of him touching you and you feel happy that he wants to make you feel good. Typically while he fingers you, you’ll give him a hand job, it’s kind of been tradition since you’ve started experiencing these intimate moments together. You brought your hands down his shirtless lean torso and to the button of his pants but he stopped you this time.
You flashed Inumaki a confused look, “Tsuna mayo.” He whispered with a reassuring smile.
“Huh?” You questioned, but he just leaned forward to give you a quick peck on the lips before he went down and situated himself between your thighs. He lifted one of your legs over his shoulder and now his face was down between your legs.
You felt a wave of shyness wash over yourself, “Toge, this position is embarrassing.” You said meekly, trying to wiggle your legs shut but he playfully head bumped your leg away with a sly smile. He sturdily gripped both of your thighs keeping you in place. “Shake-shake.” He cooed, as he kept his gorgeous eyes locked with yours, then lowered his head to your clothed pussy.
He licked your lips from outside your panties, the sensation alone was extremely mesmerizing. You felt a buzz of cursed energy wash over your folds making you shiver with anticipation. “Inumaki… this is… ahh.” Another wave of riveting delight came across you when he repeated the action with a bit more pressure. The new sensation you were experiencing immediately made you forget about your self-conscious thoughts.
Toge was so intrigued at how your body instantly shuddered with the simple swipe of his tongue. He was curious as to what else he could do to you with just his mouth alone. He carefully pushed your underwear to the side to expose your glistening folds. The sight before him instantaneously made his mouth water. Without any restraint, he dove right in and tasted your sweet juices.
“Mmh!” You whined loudly, as Inumaki’s hot tongue flickered inside of you. It was as if he suddenly realized that this is what a true delicacy tastes like, every other flavor in the world seemed bland to him. He gripped your thighs tightly and pulled you into his face. You worried that he wouldn’t be able to get any air, but you could tell by the way he ate you like a starved animal; the air was the last thing that was on his mind right now.
You felt his nose rub against your clit deliciously as his buzzing tongue pumped in and out of you quickly. You instinctively wiggled your hips closer to him, enjoying the friction.
Your needy little cunt was now a sloppy mess for Toge. He couldn’t believe how saturated you’d gotten, which made him feel incredibly proud that it was all because of his doing.
He stuffed his tongue deep inside you, as far as he could force it. Which made you immediately made you cry out in ecstasy. Toge felt your walls clench him immensely with delight. He then swiveled it around inside of you in such a way that it came in contact with your sensitive spongy spot, causing you to writhe in pleasure.
Inumaki could get drunk off the moans and whimpers that came from your beautiful lips. His attractive eyes looked up at you while devouring your pussy in the most alluring way.
You’d become wetter than ever on Toge’s cursed mouth as he continuously flicked your sensitive G-spot with his tongue. He brought his fingers up to your clit and began to run little circles on it. Both of those actions were incredibly overwhelming for your body, you began to moan and call his name uncontrollably.
Suddenly a strange and new feeling overcame your lower stomach, a feeling you couldn’t hold back. You felt an intense bright white as you released yourself into your boyfriend's greedy mouth for the first time. He eagerly drank up your squirting liquids as you instinctively tried to clench your legs shut. He made sure to not miss a single drop of your scrumptious juice.
He decided to lick you clean, he started by licking the outside of your soft slick folds. His tongue moved slowly and gently in every crevice, savoring your taste entirely. He spent a little extra time on your overstimulated clit, giving it a little suck while he was at it. Making another cute gasp escape your lips. Then he wiggled his tongue inside of you, scooping out as much of your sweet nectar as possible. His bedroom was filled with your adorable gasps of delight, along with the sound of his slurping mouth on your drenched wetness.
Inumaki was hooked on this new way to please you, the way you’d squirm and whimper under his mouth. He’d eat your pussy for hours if you let him. His zipping tongue continuously scooped into you, trying to get every last bit of flavor. The rhythmic sensation of his plunging cursed tongue felt explosive. “T-Toge… stop I’m going to-ahh.” You moaned out as you came once more onto his heated mouth. His purple eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he gulped you up eagerly.
While he licked you clean for a second time, he was able to feel your pussy pulsate with pleasure from the aftermath of coming twice. He gingerly pulled his face away from your glistening cunt. You noticed that the entire lower section of his face shone with your wetness. Especially on the cursed speech marks on his cheeks. A faint blush crept across your face when you noticed that.
He crawled up the bed with an adorably smug look on his face, along with a very noticeable tent in his pants. Toge brought his face up to yours and gave you a heart-melting kiss, you were able to taste yourself in his mouth which intrigued you. You pulled Toge close into your body for another heated kiss. Then shifted positions so he was now laying down. His vibrant purple colored iris’ looked up at you inquisitively.
You brought your mouth down to his neck to give a few delicious kisses, he rested his hands on your hips to hold you in place. A quiet groan left his lips as your mouth worked on his neck. You were able to feel his erection rubbing against your thigh in the most appetizing way. You kissed and sucked a trail of small love bites down his chest and lean torso. Purposely leaving a few angry red marks on his pretty porcelain skin.
You couldn’t stand to leave him in such a desperate state, so you undid the button on his uniform pants and tentatively pulled them down along with his boxers. His scrumptious-looking dick sprang free, hard, and ready for action. Your mouth instinctively watered for him. The urge of needing to know what he feels like under your tongue got the best of you and you licked him from the base to the tip. That simple action caused his dick to pulse with anticipation and another small gasp left his lips. You saw a few drops of precum escape from his tip, so you lapped up the salty liquid with a few short kitten licks.
Your molten mouth felt incredibly sensual to Inumaki, the way you licked him like a popsicle; coating him up in all of your drool. He then felt your small mouth envelope his sensitive tip. “Ahh...” He groaned quietly, looking down at you with a flushed look on his captivating features. This new sensation drove him up the wall and it took all his willpower to not finish in your mouth right then and there.
After sucking on his tip gently, you decided to swivel your tongue around him, tasting his precum leaking out every so often. You felt a wave of bravery wash over you and lowered your mouth onto him even further. You felt the head of his penis hit your uvula causing you to gag slightly. He wasn’t even in your mouth entirely, and you weren’t confident he’d fit. So you brought your right hand onto the remaining part of his exposed length to pump him gently. Your hand felt slick with the heavy amount of saliva you left on him. His gorgeous purple eyes rolled into the back of his head from this invigorating feeling.
You loved how hard and warm he was in your mouth. You felt him tangle his hands in your hair with pleasure; lightly tugging on your locks, causing shivers to run down your spine. Knowing how much he was enjoying himself in your wet cavern enticed you to take him further down your throat. You removed your right hand from off his shaft and beckoned him further down your throat with your tongue.
“Mmh… Y/k.” He whimpered out as his whole body shuddered. Your throat squeezed him so comfortably. As soon as he said your name, you froze; the feeling of his cursed energy being directed to you made your body await his orders. Toge immediately flushed with embarrassment realizing he just said your name out loud. “Takana.” I’m sorry. He gritted through his teeth. Out of all the times to slip up and say someone’s name; it was yours while you gave him head for the first time. After a few brief seconds of being still on his dick, your body came back to its senses and you began to suck him off again. This time he clenched his jaw tightly, focusing his breath and making sure he won’t say anything on accident. But it was excruciatingly difficult.
You bobbed your head up and down on him to get used to the movement and each time you challenged yourself to go a little deeper than before. Then you’d hold yourself on him and calm your breath through your nose. You started to get the hang of having him lodged down your throat in no time.
You noticed how his eyebrows were knitted together with focus and how he clenched his jaw while looking down at you. There was so much want in his eyes. You pulled your mouth off of his glistening rod.
“Tell me what you want me to do Toge.” You said almost angelically, as you lazily pumped his spit-covered dick.
Toge shook his head ‘No’, he didn’t want to take advantage of you in such a lewd manner. “It’s ok. I want you to use your cursed speech on me.” You said as you locked your pretty gaze with his, while lowering your mouth to his tip, teasing him with your tongue. He shook his head negatively a second time, but that didn’t deter you from taunting him. This time you brought your mouth down to his balls, and you slowly dragged your tongue across his sensitive skin. You swirled around each one in a figure-eight pattern. Causing Toge’s breath to get more ragged. You then gently suckled on his left ball, your teasing tongue lapping at his soft skin. Then you switched to the right, you brought your hand to his shaft to pump him while your hot mouth gave love to his sacks. His dick was now leaking precum profusely.
As you did those inappropriate actions, Inumaki felt his release begin to come to the surface. He lightly pumped his hips upward, enjoying the feeling completely. You noticed that and pulled away with a cute smirk on your face. “Tell me what to do.” Toge’s dick twitched at the thought of controlling you, but his mind told him that it would be immoral to do such a thing. Forcing you onto him sounded so pleasurable, but it felt so inappropriate at the same time. You then coaxed him down your throat, his hard dick blocking your airway. You calmed your breath and focused on breathing through your nose. Your eyes darted upward to see that Toge’s jaw went slack with pleasure, his chest rose and fell rapidly, and his violet-colored eyes looked down at you with approval. Your mouth watered on him uncontrollably, enjoying his smooth shaft taking up space in your throat entirely. You were able to feel his cock twitch with delight; the movement caused you to gag slightly. You moved your mouth onto him in a steady rhythm, your vision began to blur with tears. You looked so pretty to Toge; especially with your mouth full of his dick and your glossy eyes looking up at him. He snaked his fingers into your hair to gently coax your mouth further down on him. You then reluctantly pulled away from him with a sly smile, “Control me.”
Inumaki felt the heartbeat in his chest increase tremendously, and he caved for your request. “Take me down your throat.” His sexy voice makes you go weak.
His cursed speech rang through to you instantly; without having time to process your actions, your mouth was glued down to his lengthy dick. You sucked him further into your mouth so he was down your throat entirely. Your face was flush with his pelvis. “Ahh...” He groaned out in pleasure at how tight and wet you felt enveloping his shaft. Having him control you so easily, turned you on so much more. Your pussy began to dampen for him uncontrollably.
Inumaki couldn’t believe how amazing your throat felt on his raging rod. Your greedy little mouth sucked him off deliciously. He tangled his hands in your hair with a firm grip and began to pump your face gingerly on his dick. You brought your hand up to gently caress his balls as you let him throat fuck you. His sighs of pleasure were becoming more frequent and increased in volume. His smooth voice was music to your ears. Being the one responsible for him to pant you a choir of scrumptious sighs and groans made your pussy ache for him. The urge for him to claim you spread through you like a passionate fire.
Toge was lost in pleasure; the way your throat squeezed and squelched around him in the most rejuvenating way. Your mouth felt like a broken faucet by how you drooled on him. Then there was your viper-like tongue swirling and swiveling around him erratically. The amazing sensations overwhelmed him completely and he released himself down your throat with a guttural gasp.
You felt his dick pulsate with delight as he emptied himself inside of your eager mouth. You could taste his hot salty seed, it reminded you of the taste of tears. You sucked him gently as you felt his final spurts greet your awaiting tongue.
Inumaki looked down at you lovingly as you drank him like a straw. You always looked beautiful in his eyes; but right now in this moment, you left him speechless. He watched as you pulled your puffy red lips away from his glistening semi-hard dick. You sneakily removed your wet panties as a small shy smile formed on your pretty features. You crawled up his breathless body. You straddled him so you hovered above his spent rod. He leaned forward to give you a ravenously sloppy kiss. The kiss grew more heated and desperate, as you felt his warm hands clutch your waist.
“T-Toge…” you flushed with want, as you reached down between the both of you to grab ahold of his slick cock. “Can you put the tip in? I want to feel you.” Your pussy felt so empty and craved to be claimed by your boyfriend's dick for the first time.
Inumaki shuddered at your request and an adorable blush crept across his upper cheeks. He felt your nimble hand hold his penis upright while you lightly teased your dripping folds onto him. He couldn’t believe that his sweet and innocent girlfriend could get so incredibly horny like this. He felt proud that you wanted him so blatantly. Excitement rushed through his veins and to his dick, to feel you in such an intimate way.
The sensation of simply rubbing his cock’s head against your opening sent you over the edge, he felt so big and hot. He seemed to grow bigger as you teased yourself on him. You weren’t sure if he’d be able to fit into your tight virgin hole; but with how saturated you were, you knew it wouldn’t be a problem. Toge kissed you once more and then pulled away to study your pretty face, leaning back on his elbows. “Shake-shake.”
With his affirmation, you carefully settled yourself a bit lower onto him. Feeling the tip of his shaft squeeze into you. It slightly stung being stretched out like that; but you were so excited and turned on with this new experience-the pain didn’t feel as bad.
You felt so hot and tight around Toge’s tip, it was almost painful by how you clamped down on him. His violet eyes were glued to your face, studying your reaction to having him inside of you. Your gaze was shifted downward towards your sweet boyfriend, his platinum white hair was a disheveled mess. His lips were parted slightly, and his cheeks were lightly colored pink. His eyes were glued to yours, he was in a trance-like state from this new experience. All while his grip on your waist felt vise-like.
Inumaki began to sweat, but not from how hot he felt; but rather because of how he was trying to calm himself from not dropping you down onto himself. He wanted to know what it would feel like to be in you completely, but he also didn’t want to hurt you.
A wave of courage overcame you, in times like this you should just dive right in. You plopped yourself down onto him without warning. And a loud moan of pain and pleasure came from your lips. You felt so full and stretched out with him lodged inside of you. You had no idea how close you could be to him.
Toge bit his lower lip, trying to restrain himself from pounding up inside of you wildly. You felt so hot and juicy around his extended dick. He leaned forward to kiss your neck and shoulders with appreciation.
His molten fluttery mouth caused shivers to run down your spine. Your breath became ragged as you got used to having Inumaki’s cock deep inside of you. You instinctively ground your hips against his, which immediately caused a wave of desire to wash over you both.
Inumaki gave you a heated kiss on your lips as he pushed up inside of you deliciously, “Ride me.” He whispered against your lips, and as his cursed words took over. Your willpower was corrupted and you began to gyrate against his hips. The sudden movement felt both amazing and painful. You were able to feel every part of him, the way his dick arched into you perfectly and the way his veins rubbed the inside of your walls. All while this felt good, the stinging pain was still there.
The look on your sweet boyfriend's face was one you could never forget. His gorgeous features were contorted with pleasure and his purple eyes looked up at you almost pleadingly.
Toge was lost in the tight feeling of your pussy, there was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be right now. Being wedged inside of you felt so heavenly. Your rhythm began to change to a more desperate and fast-paced one; the more you moved the better it felt. You felt so snug and warm around Toge’s cock; you should just keep him here forever.
Inumaki’s intrusive thoughts got the best of him and he roughly lifted your waist a few inches above himself. Then he bullied his dick in and out of you rabidly. His speed was so much faster and more efficient than yours. You let our sweet whimpers that enticed Inumaki to go faster. His cock slid in and out of you effortlessly, because of the mix of your slippery juices along with his leaking precum.
Inumaki wanted to see if he could go deeper; so he whirled you around on his slick cock so you weren’t facing him. And then he pushed you down into the mattress face down and ass up. He ruthlessly plowed into you, making you cry out in delight as your walls clenched around him.
Toge’s purple eyes lit up at the new position he discovered. The sight before him was one to behold; he loved the way your plump ass jiggled every time he smacked his hips against yours. Your back arched so sexily and he adored your lean muscles. He rested one hand on your hip and the other had a firm grip in your hair, lifting your head back roughly. The way your kindhearted boyfriend fucked you ruthlessly caused you to become a whining and dripping mess all over his lengthy dick.
Each time he plunged into you he came in contact with your sensitive G-spot, causing you to clench around him wonderfully. He could tell that you were close and continued to pound into you relentlessly. You felt your legs give way as your body succumbed to pure ecstasy. Inumaki felt you cum all over him like a waterfall as he chased after his own release. His balls tightened, then he rammed into you, with one final hard thrust. Emptying himself completely inside of you. You were able to feel his dicks pulse as he held still inside of you. After a few brief moments, he pulled out his spent member, suddenly making you feel empty and missing the closeness the both of you just had.
You felt his hot liquid leak between your legs as you got up from your position on the mattress. When you faced Inumaki he eyed you with a romantic look on his beautiful face. He pulled you into his lean chest and kissed you sweetly. Even though he just tirelessly banged you he wasn’t sweaty, just a little warm. Then again, you noticed that he doesn’t sweat that easily. Toge is extremely agile and has great stamina when it comes to his physique. You blushed slightly when he caught you staring at his lean abs.
He gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead and guided you under his covers, holding you close. You snaked your arms around his waist to hug him back. Feeling utterly blessed that you both just lost your virginity to each other. “I guess this means that we’re meant for each other.” You said quietly, about to drift off into a peaceful sleep.
“Shake mentaiko.” He murmured back, giving you a little squeeze of appreciation. He pulled away to grab his phone off his nightstand, quickly typing up something. He brought his phone's screen over to you with a faint blush on his handsome features.
The screen was in his notes app and it said:
I’m happy to call you my girlfriend. And I know for a fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you so much!
“I love you too Toge, shake-shake.” You smiled up at him with the most gorgeous heart-stopping smile he’d ever been privileged to see come from your face. You leaned up to his face to give him another loving kiss and then burrowed your face into the crook of his neck. That was your spot; whenever the two of you cuddled or took naps, you’d gravitate to the spot where his neck met his defined shoulder. Simply being close to him made you feel safe and secure, nothing else mattered. As sweet slumber began to take you in like warm honey; you vaguely remember the feeling of cursed speech taking hold of you when Inumaki whispered “I love you.”
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6K notes · View notes
hwaflms · 6 months
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round & round! ★ [ l.dh ]
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{💭} hyuck : i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you, but now everyone’s kissing you except me :/
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[☆] pairing. haechan x reader, slight jaemin x reader ft. 00’ line, chaewon of lesserafim and sieun of stayc
[☆] genre. smut + fluff | stoner!nct, pwp bc it’s me
[☆] wc. 6.1k
[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), weed/marijuana use, lots of making out, slight choking, dirty talk, fingering, sexual stuff in a semi-public place, use of the word ‘slut’, very slight degradation, not very proofread, pretty tame tbh
[☆] notes. my first time writing again in like??? two years???? istg i didn’t mean to abandon this acc 😞 pls be nice i haven’t written in a while and this is not my most favourite work but i’m warming up for more stuff in da future i just wanted to post a lil self-indulgent smth abt hyuck bc bf☝️ idk how active i’ll be because of uni and other things but i missed u guys!!! any feedback is appreciated enjoy :p
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even through the clouds of smoke engulfing the little living room of jeno and jaemin’s shared flat, your hooded eyes still met.
today was an important day amongst your friend group; it was chaewon’s first time smoking up with everyone. your friends weren’t really the type to pressure anyone into doing anything they weren’t sure about, but considering the astounding majority who enjoyed smoking some variation of weed, group sessions were a frequent occurrence. you either joined in or didn’t, chaewon being the latter until she decided of her own accord that she was going to try it with the people she trusted.
you sesh with jeno most often, seeing as he was the one who introduced you to weed and taught you everything you know about it. after weeks of listening to you complain about sleepless nights, jeno suggested you try smoking a joint before you go to bed, especially since it was starting to affect your attendance. (“i can’t keep attending these zoology classes without you, y/n. every time something stupid happens, i laugh and make a joke out loud because i forget you aren’t there, and now i’m pretty sure people think i’m either insane or just really fucking lonely”.)
now, smoking up has been a pretty regular occurrence, especially since jeno introduced you to a bunch of his friends and vice versa, all of you making up one big, happy group of stoners. chaewon and sieun were your friends who got along with everyone else just fine, and though they didn’t hang out with the others as much as you did, they were still welcome whenever.
presently, you are leaning back against the couch, all the way on the end, because jaemin is sprawled out alongside you, opting to rest his legs on your lap. haechan makes a joke that you don’t understand, but you laugh anyway along with everyone else, except renjun who covers up his laugh with cough.
“you can never let me have it, huh?”, hyuck scoffs, narrowing his eyes at renjun who’s mouth forms a thin line. “i know for a fact you find me funny.”
you hear that he makes a remark back at haechan but what he says doesn’t register in your head, everything sounding far away. remembering the special occasion, you turn to face chaewon and sieun, who are giggling away on the floor about something between the two of them. you don’t know what they said but you smile anyway. she clearly seemed like she was having a good trip, and so was everyone else.
swallowing nothing, you realise how dry your throat feels, and with that realisation came this undeniable desire for some form of liquid. “jen,”, you tilt your head back and call out to the boy who was already rolling another joint on the table behind you. “did you end up buying more coke?”
“check the fridge”, he mumbles without looking at you, tongue poking his cheek out of concentration as he focuses on what he was doing. with a groan, you heave jaemin’s legs off your lap, muttering a couple ‘sorry’s when he starts to complain about the change in position.
you all but float to the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge and spotting the fresh cans of coke placed neatly in the overcrowded appliance. the first gulp feels like heaven against your parched throat, taking a few more while standing there.
“you gonna share or no?”, a voice startles you, turning to find haechan’s figure looming right behind you with a dopey smile on his face.
“god, we need to get you a bell or something. i never hear you coming”, you roll your eyes before grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. you’re disappointed to see that there was no ice in their freezer, but you pour the drink into the glass anyway.
“why are you pouring it into a glass?”, haechan furrows his eyebrows, looking pointedly between the glass and the literal can in your hand. “now we have to wash two glasses when we could’ve just drank it from the can.”
he’s right, of course, but you’re not gonna tell him that. instead, you pretend that you were planning on adding some lemon juice to the drink because you saw it on instagram. while you figure he doesn’t believe you, he humours you anyway and tries your little concoction, which ends up being pretty damn good.
out of all of jeno’s friends, haechan definitely stood out to you. you didn’t really understand why, you were just drawn to him, even way back before you met him, when jeno used to tell you about his friends. “loud and annoying” were the words he used to describe him, but the smile that appeared on his face anyway let you know that he was someone special to jeno. this was not to say his other friends weren’t special, you got along incredibly well with all of them, meshing right in with their group.
as of right on cue, jaemin’s voice loudly sounds out from the living room, “are you guys fucking in there or what?”.
sighing, you pick up your glass and begin to walk out of the kitchen, but not before purposely knocking haechan’s shoulder when you walk past him, hearing him snort before following you out as you exit the room. perhaps if you had lingered in the kitchen for a couple seconds longer, you would’ve heard haechan muttering something along the lines of “i wish” under his breath.
“jeez, took you long enough, can i have some of that?”, renjun drawls, lifting himself off the armchair with a smile, to which you roll your eyes but pass him your glass anyway. you sit down on the floor opposite the couch and he looks as if he is about to compliment your drink-making skills before haechan cuts him off.
“dude, chaewon and sieun look like they’re about to fall asleep, let’s do something”, he half yawns out, opting to stroll over to your spot on the floor and sinking down next to you.
“not…sleepy…”, chaewon murmurs, but her voice is muffled because her cheek is pressed against sieun’s shoulder, both of them sprawled out on the floor like it was a comfortable bed.
“sure you aren’t…”, jeno chides with a smile, getting up from the table to walk over to where all of you were situated. he twirls his newly rolled joint between his fingers, finally holding it out in his palm as if it were some magical gadget, and if you were being fully honest, you were sold. “round 2? or 3, I can’t really remember…”
some words of agreement were muttered across the room, chaewon and sieun even groggily getting up from what looked like a very comfortable napping spot. another rotation began, and you made sure to blow out your smoke directly into an unsuspecting haechan’s face when it was your turn.
“let’s play a game or something”, jaemin suggests, taking a long puff and passing it to jeno who sat beside him, and soon the room was hazy once again, the smell of weed infiltrating your nostrils.
“like what?”, chaewon coughs weakly in between her hit and renjun pats her back before he hands her your coke that you hadn’t received back after you gave it to him. so long for that.
“monopoly?”, jeno offers with a shrug and haechan lets out an obnoxious snore as a reply, making you laugh but you cover it up with a cough when you meet jeno’s playfully narrowed eyes. “okay then, big guy, what’s your incredible idea?”
haechan appears to actually think about it for a moment, looking around the room for some sort of inspiration maybe, until his eyes land on you.
“okay jaemin, get that empty wine bottle from last week, we’re playing spin the bottle”, he is grinning from ear to ear, wiggling his eyebrows even though all his suggestion receives is a bunch of groans and sighs.
your eyebrows are raised however, and you try not to let your reaction show too much on your face. spin the bottle? you hadn’t played that since you were maybe fourteen, but that was the least of your concerns at the moment. haechan wanted to play spin the bottle? who was he hoping to kiss? or was it just a whimsical little suggestion that was more of a joke?
it didn’t fully seem like he meant it as a joke, judging by his expression as he awaited some actual responses from the group. “what are we, fourteen?”, renjun might as well have read your mind, but he soon joins you and haechan on the floor, the others following suit. jaemin presents the empty bottle and places it in the middle of the little circle you have formed, everyone seeming slightly more keen as the joint runs out.
maybe it was the thc talking, but it didn’t really seem like a bad idea to you anymore. you were all single, attractive and close enough that it wouldn’t make things weird, and most importantly, you wouldn’t mind getting more familiar with haechan’s lips.
you shocked your own self with the sudden lewd thoughts in your head about the male sitting next to you, squirming in your position slightly. he turns his head towards you like he could hear your thoughts (“shut up, y/n, he can’t hear your thoughts…right?”) and you swear his eyes soften a bit. “are you sure you wanna play?”, he asks softly, mistaking your tenseness for discomfort, but you shake your head a little too quickly for your liking.
“no, no, let’s play, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?”, you feign indifference and after everyone else agrees, the bottle is spun for the first time by haechan.
much to renjun’s dismay, it lands on him, and it’s almost comical the way he looks at the bottle pointing at him before slowly looking up at haechan. “renjunnie, let me kiss you”, haechan whines in a high pitched tone while drawing out the “you”, puckering his lips expectantly. the next three minutes consist of renjun listing every single person he would rather kiss than haechan, and you’d have half the mind to volunteer yourself if you weren’t clutching at your sides laughing at the whole exchange, slapping at both jeno and sieun who tried and failed to dodge your waving hands.
renjun finally relents when chaewon suggests he lets him kiss his cheek instead, but haechan is no quitter so he makes sure that he plants the loudest, most wet kiss on his face before sighing in victory when he sits back down. renjun is not the most happy with this, and he tells jaemin to take his turn instead while he rushes off to the bathroom to wash his face. hyuck looks indignant, calling out behind renjun, asking if he wants another one.
taking the turn instead of renjun, jaemin spins the bottle harshly, and it spins and spins and spins for what seemed like an eternity. your eyes are so focused on the way the bottle looks as it spins that you don’t even notice that it has stopped, until jeno nudges you with his shoulder. it’s neck is pointed directly at you, and you finally look up from your trance at jaemin, who wears an undeniable smirk on his face.
while you didn’t exactly see him that way, there was absolutely no denying that jaemin was a very attractive man, and he was no different presently, the sleeves of his hoodie rolled up as he propped himself up with his arms, looking at you expectantly.
you don’t want to look at haechan right now, because you can see out of the corner of your eye that his face is looking straight forward, not at you or jaemin, just forward. you wonder what is going through his head, but your thoughts are cut short when jaemin scoots closer to you in the circle.
“are you okay with this?”
and when you think about, you are. “yeah, i mean it’s just a game”, you reply, not wanting to ruin the fun or raise any suspicions, to which jaemin agrees and inclines his head towards you.
he kisses you, more fully than you were expecting, but you had no complaints really as you kissed him back, titling your head in the opposite direction to slip your lips over his. you wonder if your lips were as dry as they felt, and in the back of your mind it registers that your friends are watching you kiss your other friend because they hoot and giggle, but you can’t really bring yourself to care.
jaemin’s lips taste sweet and he smells sweet, his touch soft as he brings a hand up to your cheek, gently holding it while he continues kissing you. it probably wasn’t as long as it felt, but jaemin finally pulls away, the remnants of his sweet chapstick lingering on your lips. you are aware of how hot your face feels when you pull away and return to your spot, tucking your hair behind your ears.
“dude, what chapstick do you use?”, you ask after clearing your throat, and jaemin rummages in his pant pocket for a moment before whipping out a cute pink tube, holding it out in front of him. “strawberry dream, baby”, he winks, reapplying it on his lips. “never go anywhere without it.”
renjun returns after god knows how long, stating that he had to re-do his skin care routine because haechan had completely thrown off his skin’s ph balance, and is saddened to hear that he missed witnessing you and jaemin.
the game continues in a steadfast manner for the next couple of rounds thanks to haechan insisting we play one more round, though it doesn’t exactly go in the manner you were hoping for. the group is practically in tears after watching jeno and jaemin share an awkward kiss, chaewon arguing that they can’t claim “no homo” because it was the most homo thing she’d seen in a while, and that was saying a lot because she was, in fact, gay.
you have now kissed sieun, jaemin once again and an especially endearing renjun, who’s cheeks and tips of his ears are painted a bright red after you plant a full peck on his waiting lips. haechan grumbles something about renjun not having kissed anyone besides his mom to explain his reaction, but jeno is quick to cut renjun off before another argument ensues.
“i don’t know about you guys, but i think that’s enough exchanging of saliva for one day”, he all but sighs, lying down on the floor dramatically. while you do agree, you’re disheartened, because not once has the bottle landed on you when spun by haechan, or the other way around. it feels like the universe is fucking with you, because really how many times can you spin a bottle between a group of seven people and not have it land on the one person you want to kiss even once.
haechan looks like he wants to say something, but appears to decide against it in the end, stretching and standing up. it is then mutually agreed by everyone that it was time to watch a movie.
“super bad?”, jaemin proposes, and even though most people had already watched the movie, no one argues against it and jeno starts setting up the movie on their big screen tv.
settling into the couch, you glance over at haechan and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling a tad bit disappointed. this whole spin the bottle thing makes you wonder about all the other times where you could have had an opportunity to make a move on the brown-haired boy.
you’d gone on long drives together, gone partying, even drank with just each other a couple of times. the closest the two of you had ever come to crossing that line was while you where dancing at a party and his arms were looped around your waist from behind, slowly swaying to the beat. you’d danced with him tons of times before that but you recall thinking the air was a little different than normal, more heated, but you also recall mistaking renjun for your professor, so you didn’t trust yourself. the moment came and went, and neither of you ever had the balls to address it, and now it had been way too long since to bring it up.
“this seat taken?”, haechan snaps you out of your bitter thoughts, jerking his head towards the spot on the couch next to you. you clear your throat and shake your head, scooting over slightly so he could sink down next to you. “what’s up, y/n, you look a little…not present. you still high?”
it’s funny because your mind certainly wasn’t present, it was in the gutter, but you choose to blame the weed. “yeah, i’m still high”, you answered truthfully, and so was he, his red, hooded eyes a dead giveaway.
“okay, perfect, i wanted to show you this stupid tiktok i saw”, he’s pulling his phone out of his pocket and leaning closer to you to show you some video of a cat, or maybe a dog, you weren’t paying attention. he laughs at whatever the animal did, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does so, and you observe him instead of watching. when he doesn’t hear you laugh, he peeks over at you but you’re quick to turn your head back to his phone, letting out a very late giggle at the video.
if he did catch you, he doesn’t mention it, continuing to scroll and show you more videos. jeno finally gets the movie set up and turns off the lights, taking up the final seat left on the couch. the movie begins, and everyone falls into a comfortable silence bar hyuck, who makes the occasional comment that earns him a snort from you each time.
at some point during the movie, haechan stretches his arms out behind him, placing his arm on the head of the couch directly behind you. glancing at him quickly, you can’t tell whether the action was purposeful or not, because if it was, he was doing a very good job of looking nonchalant. you try your best to ignore it, but his hand is resting directly above your shoulder, inches away from touching you- but it never does.
you had never noticed what nice hands haechan had before. long and slender, nails clipped short and clean, his middle, ring and index finger adorned with various silver rings. you note that he wears three rings on his left hand, but none on his right. his right hand sits on top of one of his thighs, two of his fingers drumming against it following some rhythm going on in his head. his fingers are long, and the only thing you can think about is just how nice they would feel inside–
no, no, no, stop it, since when are you this horny?
you realise stressing out about how horny you are all of a sudden is just going to lead to a bad trip and you don’t want that, and you want to clear your head. even though you’re feeling a different kind of thirsty, you figure a distraction for a couple minutes would be helpful, so you excuse yourself to go get some water, jumping up from the couch and walking towards the kitchen. unbeknownst to you, haechan’s watchful eyes follow your figure as you exit the room.
finally away and in the kitchen, you fill up a glass and lean over the sink, closing your eyes to collect yourself. you can finish the movie without driving yourself crazy over haechan, right? tonight is no different than any other hangout and you don’t want to weird haechan out with your unnecessary staring and poorly concealed thirsting. you just need to stop thinking about his stupid hands, his stupid thighs, his stupid hair and his stupid kissable lips. “kissable? lock in, y/n, lock in…”
“who are you talking to?”
you wince but don’t turn around, eyes screwed shut tightly. you’ve been gone for a couple minutes and you don’t know when he left the room, but you put down the glass and turn to face him.
“what’s got you so jumpy?”, he questions, leaning against the counter. his arms are folded and his gaze is piercing, face tilted slightly to the left as he observes you. this is the second time he’s startled you in the kitchen today and also happens to be the very reason you’ve been so jumpy.
“nothing, i just…god, you need to starting announcing your entry into a room, dude…”
he furrows his eyebrows but lets out a chuckle anyway, slowly sauntering over to where you stood. eyes never leaving yours, he now stands directly in front of you, caging you in between the sink and his body. the closer proximity and dim lighting isn’t helping your case in the slightest, feeling all hot and bothered as if there was a sudden change in temperature. “what’s happening? you’re usually never like this, we’ve smoked up together so many times. are you having a bad trip?”
you understand why he might think that, what with your jerky movements, dazed staring and just overall disconnected demeanour. while you were wound up a little tighter than usual, you weren’t having a bad trip, your mind was just very slightly preoccupied. “no, hyuck, i’m fine, i just…needed some water”, it’s a half-lie you tell, choosing to not tell him the full truth for the sake of your own pride.
“you just seem…off”, he seems to pick his words carefully, eyes roaming over the expanse of your face. “no, i just…”, you trail off to try and find the words to explain this situation away, but he’s just looking at you so intensely. it’s so silent in the room and the air feels all too still, and you swear you’re trying to speak coherently but haechan switches his weight to his other leg, wetting his lips with his tongue while he awaits an answer and you just freeze. “i…”
“‘i’ what? see? you’re doing it again”, he starts, running a hand through his hair, and the muted light that leaks in through the window illuminates only one half of his face, but you can see him so clearly that even the way his pretty eyelashes brush against his cheek when he blinks doesn’t go unnoticed by you. you’re subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, feeling a little like a deer caught in headlights. “you have this look in your eye. like you wanna…”
“…what?”
everything is still and unmoving, until your eyes zero in on haechan’s hand as he raises it, slowly bringing it to graze his fingers over your cheek. his touch leaves a burning hot trail on your skin and using his thumb, he releases your bottom lip from under your teeth, hand lingering cautiously for a fleeting moment before he drops it.
“like what, haechan?”, you repeat yourself, urging him to just say whatever it is he has to say, getting tired of this back and forth. you could sell a kidney just to see what was going on in his mind right now, because he looks torn between speaking his mind and just staying silent.
“like you want to kiss me.”
a few beats of complete and utter silence pass, not even hearing the dull sound of the television in the living room anymore over the thudding of your heart in your ears. haechan takes a small and tentative step towards your frozen figure, gripping the counter you’re using to lean against with his right hand, effectively trapping you in your place. now you really are a deer caught in headlights, because he’s spoken what you’ve been thinking about for the past couple hours into existence and he is absolutely correct.
“am i wrong, pretty?”
judging by your sharp intake of breath and open-mouthed expression, you’d have to be a fool to think otherwise. he looks as if he’s waiting for you to answer him regardless, giving you a chance to get out of this, but your voice is no longer functioning, and it takes all the strength in your body to shake your head ‘no’.
his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips, tongue peeking out to lick his lips again. “i suggested playing spin the bottle because i wanted to kiss you”, his voice is strained as he admits this, quiet and careful like he’s holding back while his eyes are trained on yours like he’s daring you to break eye contact. you don’t. “but then everyone else was kissing you but me.”
normally you would giggle at his little frown, but all you can muster up is a whisper of his name, finally breaking his all-consuming eye contact in favour of looking at his lips again. you don’t know who moves first, but the next thing you know is your lips are pressed together in a fierce kiss, your hands tangled in his soft, brown locks while he grip your waist and pull you into him.
he kisses you like a man starved and you do the same with equal fervour, not even being able to process that your little daydream is coming true. his hand comes up to caress your cheek, soon moving down your neck after stroking your face softly, using it to tilt your head for you. the position of his hand is very purposeful because his thumb presses into your throat ever so slightly, but his grip is still tight enough that you couldn’t break the kiss (not that you wanted to, anyway). the other hand snakes around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, pressing his hips into yours.
you’re positively drunk off the feeling of haechan’s lips molding over yours and you think you might just ascend when he tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, using the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. body on fire, you mewl against his lips, swirling your own tongue around his while he slowly but surely bucks his hips into yours.
no wards are spoken while your hands thread through his hair, pulling on it and letting out a sound of surprise into his mouth when his hand trails down to your ass and grips it harshly. he finally releases you from the searing kiss, but he doesn’t let you catch your breath, instead spinning you around in his hold so that his front presses tightly into your back, hands slipping around your waist from behind. this feels like a déjà vu kind of moment because you are reminded of the time when you both were dancing in this exact position, except this time you were getting exactly what you wanted.
“you know how bad i wanted this?”, his voice echoes your thoughts and breaks the silence, hands running up and down your front in a teasing manner. lifting your shirt up slightly, he trails his fingers over the exposed skin of your torso and the action makes you squirm in his hold a little, and much to your surprise, he groans lewdly against your ear. “fuck, i’ve been thinking of this for so long. kissing you, having my hands all over you…”
you get the sense he’s talking more to himself than you, but you revel in it nonetheless. his hand grips your jaw and squishes your cheeks together so your lips form a pout, forcing it to the side where he plants one, two, three kisses to your puckered mouth. his other hand slips further up your shirt where he brazenly cups your boob through your bra, fondling one of them while his tongue peeks out to flick at your bottom lip.
you’re putty in his arms, all gasps and squirms and whispered ‘haechan’s. “what, baby?”, he mumbles into your cheek, the hand gripping your jaw letting go in order to slink down to your hip where it lingers for a moment. “what do you want?”
your lack of answer doesn’t bode well with him, earning you a tight squeeze to your hip as a kind of warning. “need you to touch me”, you whisper out defeatedly, and you feel haechan laugh mockingly against your face.
“yeah? need me to touch you?”, he mimics your voice while tutting, letting his hand slip further down to where you needed him the most, but not letting you have it just yet. “think you can be a good girl and keep quiet for me? we don’t need everyone outside hearing what a little slut you’re being in here.”
everyone outside. the fact that you were just a room away from all your friends who were sat watching a fun little movie together had completely slipped your mind, but if you were being honest, you couldn’t find it in you to give a shit. everything about your current disposition was so dirty. one hand under your shirt, the other about two seconds away from fingering you right in the middle of your friends’ kitchen, while said friends were sat outside, unaware of the goings-on under their own roof.
though you didn’t think actually getting caught in this position would be the most pleasant experience, the idea of it dampened your panties and caused you to whine out loud, tilting your head back against haechan’s shoulder. you receive an immediate hand clamped over your mouth in return, haechan tutting in your ear condescendingly. “looks like the little slut can’t follow a simple request.”
even though he reprimands you, his hands begin fumbling with the button of your jeans anyway, undoing it and pulling the zipper down. one hand comes up to wrap around your front and rests on your shoulder, holding you in place, and the other he sticks down your pants and cups your heat but makes no effort to move, chuckling when you try to move yourself against it. his crotch ruts against the swell of your ass and for you, any friction is better than no friction at the moment. with one hand gipping the arm around your shoulder, you slip the other behind you to palm at his hard cock over his pants, making him let out a sound of approval.
“please, hyuck”, you shake your face free of his hand and turn to look him in the eye, and he grips your throat and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
he seems to accept your plea, finally moving his hand against you and you breathe a sigh of relief, lost in the feeling of his fingers rubbing circles on your clit over your wet underwear. he’s quick to slip his hand inside your panties, cold fingers pressed directly on to your bare pussy, spreading your wetness all over you. when he ultimately slips a finger into your tight, waiting core, you moan but it’s cut short when he slaps his hand over your mouth again. “keep. quiet.”
if someone were to walk in, the two of you would be a sight to see. you writhing in his tight hold while his hand is stuffed in your pants, two fingers pistoning in and out of you at a fast pace as his forehead is pressed against the side of your face, releasing short breaths. you look positively fucked out, and you’re both in a state of complete bliss as you grind against each other in a timely rhythm.
“my pretty girl. if i had known you wanted this too, i would’ve just grabbed you and kissed you like i wanted, in front of everyone.”
his voice is honey-like and sultry, and his fingers are nothing short of heavenly. they pump in and out of you, and he still manages to use his thumb to toy with your clit in this position, leaving you breathless and on the edge. “can’t believe jaemin and renjun got to kiss you before me.”
you’re so wet that your cunt makes downright sinful noises as he fingers you and you’re hoping that it isn’t really as loud as it seems. “you’re so wet, angel. so this is what had you all jumpy today”, he laughs like he’s stating the obvious, and you’d have half the mind to feel shy if his ministrations didn’t feel so fucking good right now.
you’re aware that you’re close and so is he because you’re clenching around his fingers, so he quickens his pace both inside you and against your clit. “you gonna cum for me, baby? right here, in the middle of kitchen, while everyone’s outside?”, he purrs against your face and you grip the part of his arm that isn’t shoved in your pants, digging your nails into his skin in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. his words make you feel dirty in the best way, not even knowing you could feel this turned on.
he peppers kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking here and there, and through the pale moonlight bleeding into the room from the window, the red blemishes that begin to bloom on your skin are visible to hyuck, and he seems pleased with his artwork. “that’s it, sweetheart, let go for me.”
your moans are muffled against his palm when you finally come, the orgasm ripping through you so strongly that you go limp in his hands, legs almost buckling at the sensation. with the added boost of the weed you smoked earlier, your orgasm is immense, feeling it pulse through your body until it’s too much, whining and wriggling in haechan’s firm hold. he holds you still and helps you ride out your high, whispering utterances of “that’s right, baby” and “my good girl” into your ear while you throw your head back and try to regulate your breathing.
in a moment, his hand slips out of your pants, turning you back around so you’re now facing him, grinning down at you from ear to ear as if you both hadn’t just defiled jaemin and jeno’s kitchen. “you feeling okay?”, he mumbles, tucking your hair behind your ear with the hand that wasn’t soaked, pressing a number of kisses all over your face as you nod and giggled, trying to evade his attack. he lets you go just to wash his hands, and it’s when he dries his wet hands on the material of his pants that you notice his raging boner, immediately feeling bad.
“wait hyuck, let me–“
as if he’s reading your mind once again, he shakes his head and takes both of your hands into his, wrapping them around his own waist while pulling you into him. “we can save that for another time, pretty”, he insists, his expression turning shy when he realises the implications behind his words. “that is, i-if you want another time, of course–“
it’s your turn to cut him off this time, but you do so by leaning up and connecting your lips again, bring a hand up to stroke his cheek. “of course i want another time, hyuck. i want this. i want you.”
your assurances do good to bring a smile to his pretty face, taking ahold of the hand on his cheek and pressing his lips to your skin gently, lovingly. “so, so, perfect.”
taking note of the prolonged amount of time the two of you had been gone, you skulk back into the living, but this time, hand in hand.
the scene you’re greeted with is a surprising one, because you find every single one of your friends to be sound asleep, much to your amusement and hyuck’s dismay. “so you’re telling me i could’ve been hearing you moan the whole time and none of these idiots would have even known?”, he is appalled, a hand coming up to rub at his face out of frustration. “i did all that for nothing?”
“i wouldn’t say for nothing”, you reveal, biting your lip and smiling up at the boy shyly. “i might have woken them up.”
“oh yeah, well now you’re going to”, and with that, he’s dragging you back to the kitchen while you giggle, nearly tripping over your own feet before he all but scoops you up in his arms, muttering to himself about having left something in the kitchen that needed urgent fetching.
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girlokwhatever · 6 months
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late nights,,
paige bueckers x fem!reader
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“paige move. my arm fell asleep.”
you can see her dimly from the streetlights shining through the window, not missing the way she rolls her eyes. you know she heard you, yet chooses to pretend like she didn’t. at her response, or lack thereof, you roll your eyes as well.
“paige i literally saw you roll your eyes..” when she doesn’t answer again, you start pushing on her shoulder in attempt to break your arm free. you catch a glimpse of the time on her bedside table,
1:33 am.
your girlfriend starts to groan, not happy with the new method. instead of sitting up like you want her to, she just rolls on top of you. you let out a huff at her weight fully resting on the entirety of your body. paige is a solid few inches taller than you and very, very muscular, which only adds to her weight. though you’re always happy to be close to her, her antics weren’t amusing.
“aw thanks paigey, now i just can’t breathe.”
“you’re welcome honey.”
she lifts her head, probably just so you can see the smug grin on her face. she pecks your lips and puts her head right back down into the crevice between your neck and shoulder.
you begin to feel the pins and needles in your arms from the new blood flow. it only makes you wince, and as if all the stars aligned for you tonight, paige decides to roll back to her previous spot. right on top of your arm.
“paige! get off or i swear-“ she huffs and sits up, side-eyeing you from her position.
though she’s getting on your absolute last nerve, she does look beautiful. her black sports bra and pajama pants, hair in a bun, and her skin glowing so nice in the orange from the streetlight outside.
“why do you hate me?” her tone is laced with attitude, fronting a persona you and kk like to call “snarky and sassy.” and boy, does she live up to the name.
“i don’t hate you paige.”
“oh really? but you don’t want to cuddle me”
“i do, c’mere. you were just-“ when she lays back down, intertwining your bodies together, you feel the pressure of her knee against your crotch. you don’t know if she did it on purpose or not, but it makes your face grow hot and you thank the lord above you’re facing away from the light. if she saw, she’d definitely tease you about it.
“um.. baby..”
“hm?” you feel her breath hot against your neck, which only adds to your new found body heat.
“your leg is in my vagina right now.”
“s’okay.”
“alright. just jam your knee into my crotch. it’s fine.” she lets out a loud huff, sitting up again. even through her huff, you don’t miss the way her stomach growls.
“hey babe?”
“yes paige?” you already know what she’s gonna say, and you also know how you’re going to respond. she’s interrupted your sleep for too long.
“i’m really hungry-“
“i’m not getting up.”
she stops for a minute, contemplating her options. she stands up, and for a second you believe she might just let you sleep,
but no.
she circles to the end of the bed, grabbing your feet and yanking you towards her. without hesitation, she wraps her arms around your back and lifts you up. you know your fate now, so you opt for wrapping your legs around her and accepting it.
“’m takin you with me.”
she carries you with ease through the darkness and into the kitchen. setting you down on the counter, she moves to the freezer and grabs the box of frozen sausage biscuits. she plops two on a plate and into the microwave and then quickly returns to the space between your parted legs.
“y’know.. i could’ve eaten you instead and we wouldn’t’ve had to get up” she says it with a smug little smirk, the one she has when she knows what she’s doing. she knows the affect she has on you.
her hands are on your thighs now, inching up under her shirt that you’re wearing and her fingers trail the line of your underwear. you’re so entrapped by her tactics that you realize you’ve been holding your breath. her whole hand is almost buried in your panties when the microwave beeps. she slowly pulls away and leaves you sitting there, burning alive. surely now she can see you blushing.
she sets the plate down beside you on the counter once she returns. still smirking, she runs her hands up your sides and they settle on your hips, pulling you closer to her and towards the edge of the counter. her fingers trace shapes on you, you think she’s drawing hearts but you’re honestly too tired to know.
she thinks to herself how beautiful you are and how lucky she is to have you. your skin is soft under her fingertips and she admires the scent of your body wash. she loves everything about you, can’t ever get enough. her skin tingles when you wrap your hands around her neck, playing with the loose hairs on the back of her neck.
she’s so entranced by you she almost forgets the biscuits growing cold. she motions the plate to you, a silent question ‘do you want one?’ but you shake your head no. deep down she’s sorry for making you lose sleep, but she remembers if she didn’t then she wouldn’t get to see you like this, so the thought leaves as quickly as it came.
when shes washing her plate, she almost misses your little “love you.”
her heart pounds, her stomach flutters, and she swears no one has ever made her feel this way before. she wants to crawl under your skin so she never has to be without you.
“i love you too”
now she’s carrying you back to bed, tucking you in and fighting the urge to keep you awake so she can hear your voice all night. but you’re both tired now, so there’s no point.
your back is facing her and she pulls you into her chest, wrapping her arms around you so she knows you’re safe. and you are. with paige you’ll always be safe. the last thing you remember before drifting off is her lips kissing behind your ear and her nose nuzzling into your hair.
“goodnight pretty girl.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:**ੈ✩‧₊˚☽。⋆🀥⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
FIRST FIC WHATTTT
you know i had to hop on the paige train
i hope it’s bearable
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1K notes · View notes
moviestarmartini · 12 days
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en la ciudad de la furia. - franco colapinto x reader
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me dejarás dormir al amanecer / entre tus piernas / sabrás ocultarme bien y desaparecer / entre la niebla.
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summary: franco can't sleep before sunday's race. good thing his best friend is there to help him relax.
wc: 2.1k
warnings: sentences in spanish during conversations, fwb!franco, la ciudad de la furia es baku in this case rip, nsfw (18+), praise, just one (1) degrading word, p in v, unprotected sex (don't. that is a threat.), creampie, happy ending.
A/N: not enough franco fics so i had to pull a thanos and do it myself. enjoy lovelies and shoutout a mi AMIGA PERSONAL @notsomuchtosay for helping me pick the song
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now playing... en la cuidad de la furia by soda stereo
Azul.
A sky Franco couldn’t normally look up to even if he tried, settled in different hues of royal blue, similar to the ones in the car he started driving around two weeks ago. The shiny buildings of the city now stood enveloped in a darker hue, the fact it was somewhere close five AM could attribute to that. 
“Hey,” Your hoarse voice caught him off guard. 
Your relationship was something neither of you had sat down to ponder about or discuss. Best friends was where you left it around a year ago. There had been no discussions after the first time you slept together, understanding well enough you wanted to continue with the arrangement… acting as close friends and satiating the thirst that only seemed to grow with time. 
“Nervous?” You asked quietly, walking up to his side and hugging him, your hand pushing his head gently to rest against your midriff. 
“Yeah.” He spoke, his voice coming out deeper than he would’ve thought; he slept for a few hours before sitting by the balcony window, pondering. The mental turmoil swallowed him enough to process the voice inside his head as one from his ownership, speaking into existence the anxious thoughts electrifying every nerve in his body. 
“You did amazing at qualifying, I’m sure the race will be nothing short of great.” Though sloppy, his movements were sly, the arm making your knee joints to fold positioned you in his lap. 
“I hope so.” Franco could only find to respond, not wanting to exhaust you as he did with himself with all the thoughts. He could now formulate your voice against the interim, making him notice how utterly stupid he sounded. 
It would be so much worse if he actually said it out loud. 
“The city looks so beautiful like this.” You commented, turning your head to look where you found him staring. 
“Hermosa estás vos,” Franco replied without missing a beat, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The laugh that bubbled out of your stomach was the reason he went against your orders to stop flirting with you. 
“Baboso.” Instead of shoving him away as usual, you nestled closer to his bare chest, your body covered by just a tank and your underwear. You were still warm from your place under the thick duvet, prompting him to pull you even closer, temporarily promoting you from his friend with benefit to his personal heater. 
The two of you stayed in comfortable silence, the sight of the city sparkling was mesmerizing. You could feel your eyes starting to flutter close, up until you heard him let out a fretful sigh.
“What is it?” You turned back to him. 
“Nothing,” He insisted, but the way his eyes shifted to the side told you otherwise. 
You shifted in his lap, placing a leg on each side in order to turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck loosely. 
“Don’t overthink it.” You insisted, getting another big sigh out of him.
“I’m not,” Yet again his eyes couldn’t stay on yours. From the corner of his eye he could identify the way you looked at him, prodding him for an answer. 
“Es… difícil, ¿sabés? Me ha ido tan bien que no me lo creo y me da miedo cagarla.” It felt a pressure had been lifted off his chest, but the weight of an entire country still rested on his back. 
“Fear is normal,” You started, brushing the light curls away from his forehead. “Todo esto no es ni será fácil, Fran. Lo importante es que estás aquí cumpliendo el sueño tuyo y de muchos. And you’ve got an amazing support system.” The last part came out a bit cheeky, enough to squeeze a genuine laugh out of him, the type that made your stomach tickle.  
By the way he sunk into the chair and embraced you, told everything you needed to know. The sigh he left out was one of relief, contempt. You thought everything was going to be more than alright, and in your mind, you could hear the bed chanting your names again. 
”Honestly I’m still a bit tense,” He spoke up, making you pull away from the place you’d made a home in the crook of his neck.
You found his eyes sparkling with mischief, your replying with confusion, brows softly furrowed adding onto the non-verbal conversation. 
“I think I need a little something to relax,” His fingers caressing your upper thigh made your breath hitch, neither brave enough to break eye contact as they ventured further into the supple skin, the knuckle pressed against the thin cotton provoked a pool of saliva to be roughly swallowed down your throat. 
There was nothing needing to be said. 
What usually infuriated you— how he could talk for hours, but rarely about things that truly mattered— turned into one of your favorite things the second that switch flipped from friends to the benefits side of it. 
The arms loosely around his neck drew closer to attract his lips into yours, and he fell right into that trap. Even with morning breath, he found the taste of your mouth to be so sweet, his fingers tracing their way to the plush skin he liked holding onto a little too much. 
“You can’t expect me to sit still when you’re wearing those panties.” His voice causes goosebumps to form on the wake of his fingers kneading the curve of your ass, the roughness gave you the idea to take initiative and start grinding your hips, cohering a groan out of his lips soon after. 
“Sigue así,” He praised, hot breath against your neck before he started tracing the same kisses he deposited just hours earlier. 
He knew you too well, he could squeeze out moans with just a kiss or a swift touch. But it only motivated you to shift your hips faster, finding relief in grinding against the hard bulge covered by his boxers. 
“Seguro estás toda mojadita ya,” A hand clasped on your jaw, and you knew he wanted a verbal answer. 
“Y-yeah,” You circled your hips, making him throw his head back. You were both so lost in it, he was fumbling around to remove both the items that were a bit too unnecessary. 
Until the chair cracked under you. 
You stared at each other in a panic before bursting out in laughter, not taking the distraction— or warning— as a turn off. He lightly patted your ass, signaling you to get up. 
You took the hint, taking a few slow steps before your body requested you to stretch, a yawn following after. You felt his eyes on you, expecting it to be some non-innocent ogling, until you were swept off your feet and landed on the bed with him on your back. 
“Idiota!” You cackled once you pulled your face away from the mattress, your insult going right over his head from his laughter echoing in the walls of the shared hotel room. 
You turned to look at him, any anger you could’ve withheld disappearing in an instant. If you could, you would wipe out ten cars off the grid so he could be in the points and enjoy more time of his elation. 
“¿Qué pensás?” Franco interrupted you not even a minute later, climbing further onto the bed, kissing your bare shoulder. He toyed with the hem of the tank, and you quickly pulled it over your head. 
To the royal blue was added a gradient to transition into cyan, and you guessed it was nearing six AM, and the sun was preparing its triumphant return with the addition of yellow into the sky. 
“I would do anything to hear your laugh every day.” You admitted truthfully, reaching back to kiss him. 
There was something different about this kiss compared to the ones you shared before. It was slow, careful. It said things you didn’t even want to believe until they materialized into words. 
“You’re the reason for it ninety percent of the time.” He placed more kisses on your shoulder, tracing them down your spine and right back up. 
“You don’t mean it.” You could admit freely for the first time. You knew there had to be more to it. There had to be someone else to it. 
In another element of surprise, Franco flipped you to lay on your back; he usually liked intimacy with you laying on your stomach, the appeal of seeing your ass bounce against his own body overtook every other request either of you might have. 
You watched as he climbed on top of you, pulling you into another of those kisses, making your knees weak. 
“You know you gave me luck today, right?” He whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss on the shell, holding you close to his chest. 
”It’s nothing,” You laugh, watching how his expression dropped ever so slightly at your refusal to accept his advances. “That’s what friends do, right?” 
There wasn’t even time for you to process that, a rough make out session ensued, and he fumbled around to remove his only item of clothing— his underwear. You followed his lead eagerly, thinking all was forgotten and it was yet another thing to be chucked in the pile of things he wouldn’t discuss upfront. 
You let your body do the talking, leaning into his touch, moans leaving your lips with every stimulating touch to that already swollen nub due to your arousal. His hands guided your legs to wrap around his waist, placing them at a perfect angle, one you would find to enjoy when his length slid in easily. 
“Relaxed now?” You sassed, panting before he would start thrusting. Each slow stroke was driving you insane, nails digging into his back, moans filling the room lacking the background noise of an active city. 
“Fran, fran.” You moaned, patting him on the shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re not saying anything.” 
“Vos sos mía, ¿entendés?” A hand cupped your jaw, your eyes meeting his. “Friends don’t stare into each other’s eyes while they fuck; you’re mine.” 
The correction was rather harsh, he had to be self aware and admit so. Or he believed until he saw a smile rise to your lips, the bottom one tucking between the pearly whites when your moans became more high pitched from the speed. 
You now understood the changes; the change of position, the change in how much passion oozed his lips against yours. It had taken him a while, considering you were clear about your feelings about a month or so of the arrangement. 
“¿Por qué sonríes, eh putita?” He degraded, only making the corners of your smile rise further up your cheeks, moans still leaving from the back of your throat. 
By his frantic moments you could deduce he wasn’t going to last long, but neither would you. The last few days had been exhausting in different aspects, your sexual activity included. 
His face looked stunning under the dim light that shone from the window, highlighting each freckle your fingers could trace. You pulled him into a kiss, your lips doing the talking now. 
He pulled back, an expression of mixed up confusion and hope. You pulled him down, brushing your nose against his before creating enough space to look into each other’s eyes. 
“Te amo. Por ti voy hasta la Antártida a verte correr.” 
The sudden change in pace and attention to detail had you gasping, your mind letting go of the preoccupation of his lack of a verbal answer. He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, a hand sneaking down to toy with your clit. 
Your nails dug into his bicep, eyes falling shut from the pleasure. 
“Así, así.” He encouraged you when he felt the warmth enveloping deliciously tighten around him. 
A chant of his name coming straight to heaven— in his books— filled the room, letting you ride out your orgasm before letting your leg back on its original place by his hips, leaning down in the same way you had pulled him just moments ago. 
“Yo también te amo. Por vos corro hasta en la Antártida.” You were back in your right mind to understand him completely, the way you gave him a sloppy kiss proved it.
The revelating feeling seemed to be enough to push him off the edge, panting I love yous and other praises before he collapsed on top of you. 
You kissed his shoulder gently, brushing his hair with a soothing intent. 
“Better?” You questioned after a little while and he replied with obnoxious loud snoring, clearly faked. 
Hopefully in the morning you would actually get to talk about this. But now, you were more than fine to get a kiss on the forehead and have the blinds drawn shut to continue your slumber snuggled up to him. 
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kyeomofhearts · 7 months
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Before the Day Begins | J.WW
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+ summary: an interesting way to start an early sunday morning with your boyfriend wonwoo.
+ pair: wonwoo x fem!reader
+ word count: 1.3k
+ content: smut, fluff, soft, oral (f.receiving), fingering, edging, penetration, creampie (use protection!), some aftercare.
[ᝰ.ᐟ] Happy Spring Break!! College has been so tiring lately but that doesn't mean I don't have any ideas... >:) Anyways, I hope you enjoy this Wonu fic! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
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As much as you hated Sundays (they were a bitter reminder that the weekend was indeed coming to an end.), you couldn't help but enjoy the mornings that came with them, especially one like today.
Your eyes were still heavily coated with sleep. You noticed that the room was dimly lit, only a few rays of sunlight could make it past the heavy blackout curtains Wonwoo had purchased a few years ago. You couldn't tell exactly what time it was, but it definitely had to be before 10 am because the light coming from outside was barely visible, even without the curtains.
What caught your attention was the warm hand that was slowly making its way to your breast. It didn't help that your pajamas were incredibly thin, allowing you to feel everything that your lover was doing. Once his hand had made its way to your breast, he began to slowly massage it in smooth circles. Wonwoo's touch was firm yet tender, his sole purpose was to give you pleasure. You let out a few whimpers, enjoying the attention he was placing on your chest. The rest of his body was warm, you couldn't help but push yourself deeper into him. This pulled a low grunt from him, your ass now providing a fraction of the friction that he was craving. It was no surprise that Wonwoo woke up like this, sleeping while spooning you always managed to make him hard in the mornings. Wonwoo eventually grew impatient and decided to take it further by teasing the hem of your underwear, sliding it down inch by inch.
In the midst of his teasing, you decided to have your own fun. With your closest hand, you snaked your way down to his boxers where he was hiding his hard-on. You encased the majority of his clothed cock, testing the waters with a few strokes. Eventually, you started to copy his movements from earlier, drawing slow, tender circles on him. This seemed to work in your favor, considering that Wonwoo had ceased all of his ministrations. He groaned here and there, his voice was awfully deep in the mornings. After a few more minutes of your dangerous teasing, Wonwoo firmly pulled your hand away from him.
"Had to stop you before I blew a load in my underwear," his voice was strained, showing you just how close he was. You lightly chuckled at this.
After a moment or so, Wonwoo began to move around and positioned himself right in between your thighs. He continued lowering himself until he was met with your pussy. Before diving in, he suddenly asked, 'May I?'. As much as he wanted to taste you, he always made sure to ask before giving in to his selfish desires. You nodded quickly but realized he couldn't see so you opted for a quick 'yes'. That being said, Wonwoo couldn't help but feel enamored by you, no matter what, you were always wet for him. He slid both of his arms underneath your thighs, in preparation for keeping you grounded. With that, he landed a few long licks to your slit, the pressure on his tongue being somewhat firm. He took his time with each lick, each one better than the last. Occasionally, he would plant a few kisses on the sides of your lips. His pressure got increasingly stronger the closer he got to your bud, knowing how sensitive you were in that area.
Once he felt that familiar bundle, Wonwoo began sucking on the bud. You couldn't help but yelp at the sudden pleasure he was giving you. He played with the pressure and motions that he used on you, switching from light flicking to harsh sucking within a matter of seconds. You couldn't help but reach over to his head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging on it. Wonwoo loved it when you did that because it let him know just how good of a job he was doing. After what seemed like hours of him devouring you, he decided to add his fingers to the mix. He briefly pulled away from you to make room for his fingers, coating them with your juices. Slowly, he slid one finger in, pumping it a few times before adding the second, then the third. His technique was slow at first, allowing you to adjust to all three of his fingers at once. He eventually sped up and started curling them upwards, knowing that it was a gateway to having you come within minutes. Setting a good rhythm, he latched onto your clit, firmly sucking on it once again. Your whines then turned into moans, and you knew you were nearing the end. With just a few more strokes you would feel-
Nothing.
You cried at the sudden loss of his mouth and tongue, god, you hated it when he did that!
"Let's cum together?" He said while smiling, happy that his attempt at edging you was deemed a success.
Wonwoo then sat up and positioned himself right between your entrance. He pumped himself a few times and slowly covered his cock with your slick. With that, he started pushing himself in, bit by bit. He lowered his head and connected his lips to yours, successfully covering up his whines. His pace was slow at first, wanting to give himself time to adjust to your delicious walls (he knows he will immediately cum inside you if he doesn't start off slowly). You let out a few gasps, his thrusts were hitting deeper and deeper the more he went. Wonwoo couldn't help but spread you out even more, loving the way you kept sucking him back in. Although the room was dark, Wonwoo was still able to see the way your pussy was taking him in. He was enamored at the way your bodies seemingly connected with every thrust.
He peppered a few kisses to your neck and chest before pulling away to see you in all your glory. Wonwoo then slid his hand onto your pussy, the pad of his thumb directly above your neglected clit. Alternating from lazy circles to firmer ones, his pace also quickened with each stroke. He knew that you were really close, and with the pace that he set himself, Wonwoo was not too far from filling you up. After pistoning himself further into you, Wonwoo was so close to tipping over the edge. He lowered his head towards the junction where your neck and shoulder met, biting you once his lips made contact with your plush skin. You immediately felt yourself come undone, unable to control the fluttering walls of your pussy, you felt Wonwoo completely empty his load inside you. His groans were muffled by that chunk of skin that he was still latched onto, surely there would be a bruise.
The two of you continued to lay there, limbs tangled between each other. By this point, his cum was already making its way out of your entrance and was beginning to overflow. You didn't mind staying like this but you knew that Wonwoo was eventually going to get up and clean the two of you. By which you were correct because shortly thereafter, Wonwoo scooped you up into his arms and took you to your shared bathroom. He used a damp rag to clean up any remaining cum in between your legs. For the most part, it was quiet between the two of you, only sharing the occasional smile or two. You lived for the quiet moments like this, where you didn't need to say anything because you already knew how he felt. Aside from having only fucked less than five minutes ago, you couldn't help but feel overly domestic with him. Wonwoo handed you a fresh pair of underwear while he slipped on another pair of briefs. You felt a sudden wave of sleepiness take over your body, and as if he read your mind, Wonwoo grabbed your hand and led you to your shared bed.
"Let's go back to sleep, yeah?"
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1K notes · View notes
stevie-petey · 1 month
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episode one: the hellfire club
Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–” “Boobies! It’s not a big deal–” You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.” “Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!”  You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 
Summary: el writes to you as if youre her husband away at war, you debate the intricate nature of liking boobies with robin and steve, lucas is your beloved while eddie munson is your sworn enemy, steve accidentally exposes your (horribly hidden) daddy issues, dustin is an angsty teen, and jonathan really loves to drop emotional bombshells on you. can you believe this all happens in one day ? lol cheers to senior year !
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of abuse, allusions to bullying, trauma lol
Words: 13.5k (wrote half of this in one day)
Before you swing in: SHES HERE !!!! SEASON 4 !!! this season terrifies me. i spent so much time outlining and making sure it was perfect. i have some changes i want to do, some ideas, and its scary because we dont have season 5 yet and i hate messing with canon ,,, alas: here she is. my baby. my beloved. quick fun fact: theres a scene in here ive had planned since season 1 so .... enjoy !
March 21st, 1986.
Dear Y/N,
Congratulations on New York University! Joyce tells me that it is a very good college, and everyone was extremely happy when Jonathan told us the news. He even had a smile on his face! It has been a very long time since I have seen him smile, especially without that weird smell on him (am I allowed to tell you about the strange plants that Jonathan seems to like now? He says that you cannot find out about it, but friends don’t lie and he is your bestest friend). 
I asked Will about it, and he says that Jonathan now smells because he misses you. If you ask me, I think that Jonathan smells because he is scared. We are still waiting for his college letter, afterall. I know you want to go to school with him, but so does Nancy. Is it possible to go to two colleges? Anyways, it must be a lot of pressure, even more with all the waiting we have to do, but Joyce told us that sometimes colleges take a long time to respond. 
While I am positive that Jonathan will figure it all out soon, he pretends he does not care. But he is a very bad liar. He was very upset that Nancy could no longer visit us in California. Will was bummed too, but he was more sad that it was not you who was visiting. Joyce says that the Byers boys were born to miss you, and I think she is right. 
I also miss you. I am still bummed I never went to school with you. I bet Mike is over the moon to have you with him for high school, Dustin and Lucas also. How is Max? Is she still sad? I know school has been hard for her. I will admit that it is hard for me, too. While I am good at maths, and my grammar is getting better, I am still unsure when to use conjunctions or why Angela does not like me. Will tells me to ignore her, but I want to be her friend. She is nice to everyone else. It confuses me that she is not nice to me.
A lot about California confuses me. The flowers here are different, and sometimes I forget that I cannot go and visit you. I miss the smell of Bookstrordinary (did I spell it right?) and your cookies. Please send more as soon as you can. Will and I are almost dying to taste them again! Mike says he will try to bring some on the plane, but I am scared he will be told no by those scary airplane people.
Speaking of Mike, he is coming to California this week! I am very excited to see him. It has felt like years, I think I am even going crazy. I have planned everything for his week here. Spring break will be extra special! It will be a fun distraction from Angela and school. This week I can pretend to be someone else, someone cool, and Mike will be very impressed. I know you tell me to always be myself, so I hope that I can make you happy by taking your advice on focusing only on the good. 
To prove I will focus on the good from here on out, here is a good things list: 
Mike is visiting!
Will has almost finished his painting. I am very curious to see what he has made. He is really talented, he shows me the drawings he sends you sometimes. 
You got into NYU! Is this the correct way to abbreviate? I am still working on conjunctions, but I think I am supposed to use the first letter of every word in the school’s name to shorten it. At least, that is what Joyce says. 
Jonathan’s new best friend, Argyle, will give us free pizza to celebrate Mike’s arrival. It is really good pizza. 
Tasting your cookies again. Fingers crossed Mike’s plan succeeds!
I am sure there is more, but I am too excited about this week and my mind is going very fast. I miss you tons, maybe even more than Will and Jonathan do. Please come visit us soon. Like Joyce says, the Byers boys were born to miss you. Although I am not a Byers boy, I am still a part of the Byers family, and I miss you. 
Love, El.
P.S., thank you for the grammar books. I will be sure to become the best writer ever in California. 
Sweet, gentle, El. You can almost hear her voice, reading aloud to you as you used to do when she lived in Hopper’s cabin. She would stumble over the letters, ask you how to sound out particularly difficult words in Spider-Man comics; they helped her learn how to read. Now, almost a year later, she’s writing you letters. 
El has grown up so much within such a short few months, although it doesn’t surprise you.
Laughing softly as you reread the final line she’s written, you wipe your eyes and place El’s letter onto your desk. The piece of paper joins the others, nestled gently with a pile of her other letters that are housed on your desk. El sends you a new letter every week, detailing silly stories about Jonathan and Will or concerned ramblings about Angela.
The letters make you miss El terribly. They make you miss everyone terribly. 
Next to the letters are drawings from Will. He’s become such an artist during his time in California. He sends you beautiful sketches of landscapes in their neighborhood, doodles from class, and incredibly detailed drawings of you and the party. The drawings are Will’s special way to keep in contact with you, and it’s something you cherish so deeply. However, you didn’t know that he was working on a painting, and you’re curious to see what El is talking about. Eventually he’ll reveal his art to you, he always does.  
Skimming a finger over one of the more recent drawings from Will, your hand catches on the walkman that lays next to it. Jonathan’s messy handwriting is scrawled on the mixtape that sits within it.
For bug.
The words, familiar and loved, stare back at you. The mixtape contains songs that Jonathan so carefully chose for you. He spent countless hours selecting songs that he knew you’d love, songs that reminded him of you. It had been his gift for you before he moved away. And now he’s gone, and you miss him so much more than you ever thought you would. More than you ever thought you could miss anyone.  
Jonathan never did end up coming to Hawkins for spring break. 
“Dusty, what’s going on in there?” The sound of your mother pounding on Dustin’s door breaks you from your thoughts. “You’re gonna be late.”
“Don’t come in, I’m naked!” You hear the boy screech back at her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve will be here to pick you guys up any minute. Dustin knows he should be ready by now, the schedule has never changed. 
Throwing on the cardigan Steve got you for Christmas last year, you grab your walkman and storm over to Dustin’s room. At the same time, your mother nearly crashes into you in the hall. Her face is pale, horrified of the idea that she almost saw her son naked, and you pity the woman. Dustin has become relentless lately, even more difficult to deal with. 
“Y/N, my dear,” your mother clutches at her chest and fans her face. “Can you please make sure your brother is ready? I think that boy is trying to give me a heart attack.”
You sigh, figuring you would have to do so anyways. “Yeah, sure. Go finish getting ready, I’ll handle him.”
“This is why you’re my favorite daughter!” Your mother kisses your cheek before running off towards the kitchen to make her morning coffee. 
Once she’s gone, you immediately start banging on Dustin’s door. He knows you hate being late. Plus, it’s the Friday before spring break. You’re getting antsy waiting for this week to end. “Dustin Henderson, you have three seconds before I kick this door down.”
“Not now, Y/N!” Dustin shouts back, frantic and desperate. 
You narrow your eyes. He’s using his suspicious voice, the one he only uses when he’s doing something he absolutely shouldn’t be doing. Glancing down at your watch and noting the early hour, you curse in disbelief. “It’s not even seven yet, what the hell are you up to so early in the morning?”
“Nothing! Just go away, I’ll be out soon–”
“I swear, if you’re trying to sell my limited edition comics again I will hurt you.” You throw your body against the door, causing it to fly open as you stumble inside. Dustin is at his computer and he nearly falls off his chair in his haste to cover the screen from you. He’s remarkably horrible at playing cool. You’re about to tell him this when Suzie’s voice crackles through his radio’s speakers. 
“Yikes, Dusty.”
“Suzie?” You walk over to your brother and shove his hands off the computer screen. He falls to the ground with a loud thud, which pleases you. He may be a teenager now, but you’re still stronger than him. At least for now. “Why are you calling her right now–” Your eyes land on the screen and you recognize Hawkins High’s familiar orange and green school colors. “Is this the student gradebook?”
“No!” Dustin exclaims, but Suzie’s small and soft voice responds, “Yes.”
“Oh my God,” you cannot believe he’s making his girlfriend hack into your school’s database. Sure, she’s a genius, but you also know she’s incredibly religious. “Dustin, this is so illegal and goes against, like, all of Suzie’s religious morals–”
“I will repent later.” Suzie interrupts you, and you raise your eyebrows at what she’s just said. Before you can question her, Dustin’s computer refreshes. 
He leans forward, eyes scanning to see if they’ve succeeded, and he seems to like what he sees. Suddenly Dustin lets out a sudden whoop and fist bumps the air. “God, I love you Suzie.”
Curious, you lean over and read the screen as well. There, where you know Dustin had a D- in Latin not even a day ago, is now an A. There’s no possible way he was able to raise his grade in under twenty-four hours. He sucks at Latin, he hates it, which means… She did it. Suzie changed his grade. All she had to do was press one single button to save Dustin’s GPA. 
You have to admit, it’s impressive. And shamefully genius. 
“Hey, Suzie.” You bring the radio to your lips, shoving Dustin away when he tries to take it from you. “Do you think you could change my grade in calculus? Jonathan was the only reason I passed any of my other math classes.”
“Oh, I don’t know…” Suzie’s voice raises a pitch, she doesn’t want to tell you no. She likes you, she really does, but her God figurine stares down at her with a disappointed look in his eyes. She’s sinned for love, but she doesn’t think she could ever do it again. 
You’re about to plead with Suzie, tell her NYU really prioritizes their student’s grades, but the sound of a car honking outside catches your attention; it’s Steve. Dustin yanks the radio from your hand and shoos you away. “Go, leave without me.”
“What, why? We always drive together.” You frown, feeling like a little kid when you cross your arms. Dustin smiles apologetically, a smile you’ve become familiar with. Your mood darkens, anger rises to your cheeks. You know exactly why Dustin is now skipping out on you. “Don’t tell me it’s that stupid Eddie Munson–”
“He wants me and Mike to work out some campaign details before lunch today!” Dustin scrambles to mediate. He hates that you don’t like Eddie, and you like everyone. It’s unnerving how much disdain you seem to carry for his friend. “Nance is driving us, but I swear I’ll ride with you and Steve after break!”
You scoff at Dustin, not at all believing his promise to you. Ever since September your brother has been at Eddie Muson’s beck-and-call, who dictates everything Dustin says or does. At first it was innocent enough, choosing to sit with the guy instead of you at lunch. Skipping out on a few weekend plans with you and Steve to campaign with Eddie. You’d been happy for Dustin. He was making new friends, no longer your little shadow; he was his own person with his own priorities and interests now.
But ever since getting into NYU last week, Dustin has been pulling away even more from you. You don’t know why, but he’s become even more obsessed with Eddie and his stupid Hellfire club. 
Eddie Munson is the air your brother now breathes, stifling the air Dustin once breathed for you.
And it seems to only be suffocating you, not him.
“Yeah, whatever.” Halfheartedly you ruffle Dustin’s hair, and he leans into the touch. You don’t want him to know his repeated absences are upsetting you. Deep down, you know you’re being irrational. You’re almost eighteen, soon you won’t even be living under the same roof as Dustin. He’s allowed to live his own life. “I guess I’ll see you at the pep rally. Tell Suzie I said bye, please?”
Dustin nods, though you don’t linger in the doorway like you desperately want to. Instead, you shut the door behind you and place a swift kiss to your mother’s cheek as you leave. 
Steve’s car is parked in its usual spot at the end of the driveway. The teen’s arm hangs out the window and his face breaks into a smile when he sees you approaching. Steve’s smile is infectious, it’s always charmed you, and it settles the ache in your chest from your brother’s earlier dismissal. Feeling a smile spread across your own face, you run towards Steve and poke your head through the open window.
“Hi,” you breathe out, nose almost bumping against his cheek.
“Hi, angel.” Steve kisses you, solidifying your morning tradition. Neither one of you really remembers who started it, but sometime during the school year you began to slip your head through Steve’s car window so that he could kiss you slow and sweet. 
And, as tradition follows, Robin starts boos. “Do you have to do that every morning?”
Steve makes a face at her and she punches his arm. He yelps in pain and you roll your eyes at the two of them before running over to the passenger’s side where Robin sits. Her window is rolled down as well and you duck your head inside. “Aw, Robin. If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just said so!” 
“A kiss–?” Your lips press against Robin’s cheek, smushing against her face while making a dramatic sound. She squeals and pushes you away, wiping her now wet cheek in disgust. “That is not what I wanted.”
You giggle at her and finally get into the car. It’s getting late, you see the assortment of Robin’s limited makeup dumped into her lap haphazardly. She’s been stressing about this morning’s pep rally all week, and clearly she isn’t coping very well. Trying to cheer her up, you flick her shoulder. “I’ll have you know that my cheek kisses are cherished in Hawkins.”
“How many people’s cheeks are you kissing?” Steve turns in his seat to face you, slightly alarmed. Then, noticing that there’s only one Henderson in his car, he frowns. “And where’s little Henderson?”
“Eddie Munson.”
“Woah, wait, you mean Eddie as in where Dustin is, right? Not, like, you’ve been kissing his cheek? I’m right, right? Please tell me I’m right.”
You roll your eyes fondly at Steve while Robin rolls hers in displeasure. “Just drive, Steve.”
It becomes pretty apparent five minutes into the car ride that no one seems to be having a good morning. Robin has spent the majority of the drive applying and reapplying her mascara while messing with her hair. She groans every time she looks in the mirror and her eyes lack their usual brilliance. 
Meanwhile, Steve has been complaining about yet another fight with his dad. Apparently they argued during breakfast, something that has become a common occurrence in the Harrington household. 
“The asshole again reminded me that I’m turning twenty soon. As if I don’t already know that! I mean,” Steve laughs in exasperation. “For weeks now he’s been asking me what my plans are, as if working at Family Video just isn’t good enough for him. As if my dad isn’t the sole reason I had to get a lousy minimum wage job in the first place!” 
“Family Video isn’t a lousy job–”
“Yes it is.” Both Steve and Robin say at the same time, which you sigh at. Can’t really argue with that. 
“Okay, yeah. It’s pretty lousy.”
Steve rubs his eyes tiredly. “And that isn’t even the worst part. There I was, pouring syrup over my pancakes, trying to enjoy the fact that my parents are actually home for once, when my asshole of a father tells me that if I don’t have a respectable job by the time I’m twenty, he’ll kick me out. I mean, can you believe that?” 
You suck in a breath. “Steve…”
Richard Harrington is a cruel, awful man. 
While you understand his frustrations towards Steve, it’s completely unreasonable to expect him to get a reputable job in a few short months without any college education. Steve’s right, it had been Richard’s idea to make him work at Scoops Ahoy in the first place. When the mall burned down, he had no other option but to work at Family Video soon after. 
“I’m sorry, honey.” You intertwine your fingers through Steve’s hair and rub your thumb up and down the nape of his neck in a soothing manner. Steve allows the touch, but he’s still tense. Guessing that he’s uncomfortable feeling so pitied, you try to make light of the situation with humor. “But hey, who knows? Maybe you can come live with me in New York if he ends up kicking you out.”
Steve risks a look at you, taking his eyes off the road for a few moments, and his eyes shine. He’s ecstatic over what you’ve just said. He looks like a little kid on Christmas Eve. “You really mean that?”
“Well, I mean…” It had mostly been a joke, a throwaway comment to try and get him to smile. But Steve’s body finally relaxes under your touch and you can’t tell him no. “Yeah, I guess I did.”
“You hear that, Robin?” Steve preens, wanting to get her attention. However, when he realizes that she hasn’t been listening to the entire conversation, he makes an offended sound. “Robin, are you listening to me?”
“Uh, yes?” Her eyes meet yours in the mirror, startled that she’s been caught. “You were-uh. Talking to Y/N about your dad. We-we hate him! Yeah, we hate the guy. He really… grinds my gears?”
Steve groans. “We all hate my dad, but that wasn’t what I was talking to you about!”
“Cut me some slack, please. Your relationship with your father is one of labyrinthine complexity–”
You poke your head between the two teens. “Actually, it’s not that complicated.”
Robin covers your mouth with her hand and continues with her rant. “It’s seven in the morning, we have the stupid pep rally, and I woke up looking like a total corpse!” 
“I think you look lovely as always, Robin.” You mumble through the girl’s hand, barely coherent.
Steve, however, isn’t as supportive. “You’re worried about a pep rally? You really expect me to believe that?”
“Yeah, so?” Robin removes her hand from your mouth and goes back to doing her makeup. She’s avoiding the conversation now, which only means that Steve is onto something. Why has she been so obsessed about this week’s pep rally? Robin has been in band for years now, she’s done a million pep rallies during her high school career. It can’t be performing that makes her nervous. 
Which means it has to be about someone. 
Locking eyes with Steve, he seems to be thinking what you are. “I think we all know what this is about, okay? Y/N and I aren’t buying that bullshit.”
“This is about Vickie.” You finish for him, a smirk on your face. For weeks now Vickie has been all Robin has talked about. Her hair, how pretty her smile is, how cute her freckles are. Vickie also happens to be in band with Robin. “C’mon, you can’t tell us we’re wrong.”
“I absolutely can tell you you’re wrong.” Robin denies what you and Steve are implying.
Steve shakes his head. “You know we’re right! And you know what else we think?”
“I really don’t care–”
“Y/N and I think that you gotta stop pretending to be someone else when you’re around her, okay? You just gotta be yourself.”
Robin doesn’t want to hear any of this. At least not from you and Steve. “You guys are biased, you do realize that?”
“What do you mean?” You’re practically laying across Steve’s car console in order to be a part of the conversation. “I think we’re objective people.”
“You’re telling me that all I have to do is be myself and Vickie will want to date me?”
You frown. “Yeah? What’s wrong with that?”
Robin throws her head back. “Because it took Steve months to ask you out. Mind you, this was when you were already in love with the guy! And he knew you were in love with him!”
“Okay, hey–” Steve doesn’t at all like what she’s insinuating. He didn’t necessarily know you were already in love with him, he just… had a small hunch. 
“I’m not done,” Robin holds her hand up. “All Steve had to do was man up and admit his feelings for you. He didn’t have to agonize over whether or not it’d blow up in his face. There was no risk, no danger, no world ending consequences. I mean, if you had rejected him then maybe Steve’s ego would’ve been bruised. But if I ask out the wrong girl? Bam! I’m a town pariah.”
“This is true,” you reluctantly agree. While you could never envision a world where you’d ever say no to Steve, you also recognize that the world where you somehow do wouldn’t be the same world as Robin’s. Things are different for her, whether you like it or not. Robin has to live with this knowledge, and her conversation with you about luck and love from last summer echoes in your mind. 
Steve places a hand on his chest, betrayed. “Whose side are you on, Y/N?”
“True love’s side.”
Robin snorts and Steve doesn’t bother to hide his smile. He wants to tease you for being a hopeless romantic, but now isn’t the time. Instead, he continues the previous conversation. “True love aside, we can’t ignore that Vickie is definitely not the wrong girl.”
“Oh, she definitely isn’t straight.” You agree.
“We don’t know that!” Robin quickly sprays some breath freshener in her mouth and gags, which you cringe at. Vickie is one lucky girl if Robin ever manages to become her girlfriend. 
Steve doesn’t let up, he’s convinced he has it all figured out. “She returned Fast Times paused at fifty-three minutes, five seconds.”
“The bikini scene, mind you.” You butt in, and Steve nods eagerly.
“And you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty-three minutes, five seconds? People who like boobies, Robin!” 
Robin waves her hands in the air as if to get Steve’s voice away from her. “Ew! Gross, don’t say boobies–”
“Boobies! It’s not a big deal–”
You make a face. “It isn’t the most pleasant word.”
“Oh, c’mon. You like boobies, Robin likes boobies, and we all know I love your boobies specifically–ow!” 
You hit the back of Steve’s head with annoyance to get him to stop talking about your boobs. While he winces in pain and rubs his tender head, you turn towards Robin. “What my darling boyfriend is trying to say is that everyone likes boobs, and Vickie definitely likes them too.” 
Robin can’t even look at the two of you, appalled by how many times the word “boobies” has been uttered during the duration of the conversation. You can’t blame her, the word has practically lost all meaning for you as well.
Steve, however, can’t seem to get enough of it. “It’s boobies!” He exclaims again to no one in particular.
You and Robin lock eyes, and then, without saying anything, your hand covers Steve’s mouth while Robin flicks his forehead, effectively putting the boob conversation to an end. 
– 
The moment Steve’s BMW slows in front of the school, Robin throws the door open and rushes out with a quick “see you later!” to you as she runs to follow after her bandmates. Steve waves weakly as she goes and sighs in disappointment.
“She’s never talking to Vickie, is she?”
“Not a chance,” you sigh as well, watching as Robin’s figure disappears in the crowd of students. Spring break looms over the student body, everyone buzzes with excitement over their week of freedom and tonight’s basketball game. The pep rally in just a few short minutes only adds to the exhilaration. Leaning forward, your lips graze against Steve’s. “Anyways, see you tonight?”
He bridges the gap between your lips, skin meets skin and warmth floods your stomach. “Of course, angel. I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.” And with one last kiss, you exit Steve’s car and make your way towards the school. As always, Steve waits until you’re safely on the sidewalk before he pulls away and heads towards Family Video. He’s started picking up morning shifts to fill the time he isn’t with you.
On your way inside, you see Ms. Kelly talking to Max near the buses. The conversation is short, doesn’t last much longer than a few seconds, and when Max turns away you notice Ms. Kelly’s patient smile drop. Clearly Max still isn’t being cooperative when it comes to their sessions. She promised you she would start trying, but Max Mayfield has always been stubborn and you’ve always been slightly overbearing.
Not the best combination, honestly.
With a sigh, you make a mental note to ask Max about what the counselor talked to her about later. There’s too much going on this morning to focus on it, and you’re already pushing Max by having her attend the pep rally anyways. Originally she had wanted to skip it and hide in the stairwell, but after begging her about it, Max finally agreed.
The conversation can wait. For now, at least she’ll be next to you in the bleachers alongside the boys to cheer on Lucas.
The thought was enough to brighten your mood a little, but it quickly became a pain in the ass to corral the party into sitting together. It took you almost fifteen minutes to find Mike and Dustin in the mass of students heading into the gym. You’re not necessarily sure how it took so goddamn long given the fact that Mike towers over half of the students anyways. He’s grown freakishly tall since starting freshman year. It unnerves you. 
While his towering height annoys you, Mike likes that he can finally, literally, look down on you. 
“There you guys are!” You grab the back of Mike’s shirt and he lets out a startled yelp. Dustin stumbles back as well, and an annoyed sophomore glares at the three of you. Ignoring her, you grab your brother’s shirt and start dragging the two boys towards the bleachers. “Thought we agreed on meeting at the water fountain that squirts water in your face?”
“I thought it was the library?” Dustin gives you an odd look. “Wait, is there even a water fountain in the library?”
“You amaze me.” You remark, not even bothering to answer his question. He listens like a bag of rocks. Mike just allows you to pull him, not at all contributing to the conversation.
Max waits for you in the bleachers. She’s saved you seats, something that you feel slight relief over. The simple gesture is small, but it sparks just enough hope within your chest to make you exhale softly. Hope that she’s getting better. Hope that she’s finally trying again.
Thanking Max, you and the others fill the seats as the gym quickly fills with more and more students until it threatens to overflow. The roar of the crowd is nearly deafening. Across from the bleachers resides the marching band. They’re playing the school’s anthem as the cheerleaders start their routine. Chrissy Cunningham leads them, her smile lovely and beautiful, she shines so brightly upon the crowd that you can’t help but fall in love with her.
In the midst of the cheerleaders’ twists and flips, Robin manages to catch your eye from across the room.
You eagerly wave at her and mime playing the trumpet, copying her movements as she actually plays one. Robin laughs, and next to her is a girl with fiery red hair who laughs as well. She’s pretty, you’ve heard countless sonnets about her red hair and dotted freckles. Knowing the girl is Vickie, you point at her as you wink at Robin, who scoffs and goes back to playing the trumpet. 
Next to you, you catch the tail end of some bizarre conversation between Mike and Dustin.
“Look, I’m not saying that my girlfriend is better than yours.” Dustin is clarifying, glaring at you when he hears your sarcastic snort. “It’s just that Suzie’s, like, a certified genius.”
Mike crosses his arms, looking towards you as if somehow this is all your fault. “Your brother realizes that El saved the world twice, right?”
“Admittedly that is hard to beat,” you shrug. “That, and she has cool powers.”
Dustin points a finger at the two of you. “And yet Mike still has a C in Spanish while you’re barely passing calculus.”
Mike rolls his eyes and you shrug again. Your brother isn’t necessarily wrong either. El’s saved the world, Suzie has saved his GPA. Both are nearly impossible feats. “Touchy subject, but touché.”
“And what can your boyfriend do, Y/N?” Mike asks, now bringing the attention to your love life.
“He’s good with a bat.”
Both Dustin and Mike groan, but you shush them when the school’s broadcaster announces the Tigers basketball team. Applause breaks out across the bleachers and you notice Max looking around for Lucas. Though she tries to hide it, you can see the interest and excitement in her eyes. She’s happy for him, but it breaks your heart that she feels that she can’t show it.
Jason Carver, captain of the basketball team and former Scoops Ahoy patron before Steve spilled ice cream all over his pants, runs out first. The crowd goes wild, but you don’t start cheering until you see Lucas. He’s smiling wide, proud to be a part of the team. You scream as loud as you can for him, he’s come so far since confessing to you about wanting to join the team earlier this year. As Jason starts his speech, dramatic as he always is, Lucas sees you in the bleachers and waves shyly, a blush creeping across his face. Then, seeing Max next to you, his confidence seems to grow as he waves more enthusiastically at her. 
The moment is sweet, it makes you smile. 
Except Max doesn’t wave back. She crosses her arms, pretends she hasn’t seen him, and your smile drops alongside Lucas’. 
You know they’ve been having some trouble recently. With Max pulling away more and more each day, Lucas struggled to hold onto the fading girl. Despite his pleas and reassurances, Max still seems to be icing him out. According to Dustin, they broke up almost a month ago now. 
But they’ve always had a tumultuous relationship, long before nightmares and monsters darkened everything. The news hadn’t worried you at first, you thought it was simply another one of their weekly breakups over something small, innocent. Afterall, they were just kids when they first started dating. Their breakups were always childish, though endearing, and always temporary. 
Now, you’re scared that this time it’s permanent. 
You’re not sure what that means for Max. She already has so few people left in her life to tether her. Billy died, her mother works two jobs and is never home anymore, El is in California, and you and Lucas are breaking skin trying to claw onto whatever small hold you have left of the girl.
Another loud cheer from the crowd breaks you from your thoughts. Jason must’ve just said something important, something worthy enough of a roaring reaction. He’s always been popular in Hawkins, Steve used to complain about him to you back when he was still on the team. But when Steve graduated and Billy died, Hawkins High had needed a new King to crown.
Jason Carver was more than happy to ascend the throne. 
“Chrissy, I love you, babe.” Everyone awes and you see Chrissy blow Jason a kiss. It’s sweet, you suppose. They fit together nicely, head cheerleader with the star of the basketball team, and they seem genuinely happy. Chrissy’s shy and kind demeanor balances Jason’s loud and charismatic boldness. They truly are a good match. 
“I think I can speak for all of us when I say it’s been a tough year for Hawkins.” Jason continues his speech, the room is eerily silent as everyone listens with baited breath. “So much loss…” The gym almost exhales simultaneously, remembering all the people who died last summer.
Your own breath exhales, and beside you Max tenses. Billy’s ghost floats through your minds, in through hers and out through yours. Hopper’s own ghost follows after him, only he doesn’t haunt Max the way he haunts you. He lingers over you, his final words to you engraved into your skin. 
You’re the best of them.
“And sometimes I wonder, how much loss can one community take?”
Enough to fill a mall of burning bodies, you think bitterly. 
Jason paces the gym’s floor now, he almost seems to glow before the crowd. He rambles on about needing something to believe in. That everyone should be doing something to honor all the lives lost in July, that playing basketball can absolve all the despair. As if it can bring them back.
Deep below your ribcage, nestled right underneath your scar and just in front of your stomach, rests a pit of anger that always simmers. You were born with it, it has always followed you. It has grown with you, the anger almost possessed your body when your dad left. Now, hearing Jason recite all the names of the ones who died that Fourth of July, the anger’s low simmer heats into a soft boil. 
You try to quell it. Jason means well, he’s only trying to uplift the community in a passionate, albeit uncomfortably pastor-y way. He’s only doing what he knows best; he’s being a leader. In another life, one where Demogorgons never harmed you, you think you would’ve really admired Jason and his resilience. 
“Think of Billy,” Your breath stills, yet your hand instinctively finds Max’s. She turns away from you, but the room is spinning and you can’t remember how to inhale. But Jason keeps going. “Think about our heroic police chief, Jim Hopper.”
Next to you, in your haze of grief and panic, you think you can feel Mike and Dustin shift uncomfortably. Grief sinks her claws into the kids, and you want nothing more than to puncture Jason’s lungs with them. 
This was supposed to be a pep rally for the Tigers, it was supposed to be joyous, an opportunity to bring Max out of her shell. To distract her from the hell that she calls her life. The entire school knows what happened to Billy, they know that he had a little sister named Max Mayfield.
You hate Jason Carver.
But you’re here for Lucas. Today is about him. He’s finally happy, he’s smiling again. The least you can do is swallow down the anger and grief and hope that you don’t end up choking on them later. That they don’t strangle you in your dreams.
“And now tonight, we’re gonna bring home the championship trophy!” Jason screams into the mic, erupting a volcanic roar from the stadium. People throw paper into the air, whistling and jumping up and down at the prospect of Hawkins High finally winning a championship.
“Tonight?” Dustin’s agonized exclamation causes you to jump. He looks at you, bewildered and panicked. “How is that possible?”
Your heart still hasn’t steadied from the surge of fury Jason evoked. Swallowing once again, you clear your throat and shake your head at your brother. “What, you guys didn’t know about the game tonight?”
“They call it a tournament,” Max explains for you, figuring you need some time to clear your head. You squeeze her hand appreciatively. “You win one game, you go on until there’s only one team left.”
Mike and Dustin exchange frightened looks, and you eye them suspiciously. “Did you guys really not know? I thought Steve explained all of this to you already. Why is it such a big deal, anyways? I mean–wait,” the boys won’t meet your gaze. They avoid facing you, Mike stuffs his hands into his pockets and Dustin pretends to read someone’s poster. 
You know the fearful look on their faces. It’s the same look Dustin gave you this morning when he ditched you to ride with Nancy and Mike. 
Goddamn Eddie Munson. 
“Oh, don’t you guys dare.” They wouldn’t. They wouldn’t fucking dream of missing one of Lucas’ games for a stupid club centered around some guy with enormous ego problems. “I swear to God, if you two skip the game tonight–”
“We won’t! I-I mean… Well. It’s, uh. It’s complicated” Dustin gulps, elbowing his way through the crowd of departing students as the pep rally ends. Mike follows, ready to step in at any moment, while Max slips away before you can stop her. Seeing how contorted your body is from anger, Dustin tries to appease you. “Look, I can’t promise anything, alright? Eddie is… Eddie.”
You’re about to scream some very choice words about that curly haired emo asshole, but Lucas intercepts the group and joins you guys. He looks between you, Mike, and Dustin, sensing some underlying tension. “What about Eddie?”
Mike quickly explains, and the more he talks, the more you want to shove your knives down Eddie’s throat. It’s one night, one goddamn night, and here Mike and Dustin are, almost shitting their pants at the idea of missing one Hellfire meeting to support their friend. While it’s unfortunate that all of this is happening on the same night, and though you recognize how long a campaign can take and how much the game means to the party, for once you can’t bring yourself to understand Dustin’s side. 
A championship game versus one single campaign meeting that can easily be done tomorrow instead.
Seems like a pretty easy decision to you. 
Lucas doesn’t understand why Mike and Dustin are so conflicted either. “I don’t get the big deal.” You’re all outside now, heading towards the main building for your classes. “Just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire to another night.”
You nod, agreeing with him, and Dustin rolls his eyes. “‘Just talk to Eddie.’”
“You can’t be serious right now,” your shoulder brushes harshly against the boy’s. You’re barely containing your anger right now. “Why does Eddie have such a strong hold over you guys? Hasn’t he repeated senior year twice now?”
“Why does that matter?” Mike looks at you as if you’re the scum of the earth that he just so happened to step on. “Why can’t Lucas just talk to his coach and get him to move the game?”
Dustin quips that he thinks Mike’s idea is a great one, but you shove between them and throw your hands in the air in annoyance. “You can’t possibly think that’s the same thing, right? A nationally organized game being postponed for a board game.”
Mike and Dustin both gasp at you, acting as if you’ve just threatened to kill a baby bunny in front of them, which only annoys you more. Sure, maybe you’re being a little mean right now, but you’re not appreciating how they’re treating Lucas. He’s never done anything to warrant this blatant disrespect from them. They’re refusing to see his side, too lost in their Eddie induced high. 
“DnD isn’t just a board game, Y/N! I’m honestly disappointed that you of all people would even say that. You’ve seen the intricacies of a campaign. You know I’ve spent all month now preparing for the end of Eddie’s campaign!” Dustin waves his hands in front of him, he’s in his own ecstasy of anger and annoyance, something innate in the Henderson bloodline. “A semester of adventuring has led to this moment, and we need Lucas.”
“Yeah, and the Tigers don’t.” Mike looks over at Lucas. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve been on the bench all year–shit!”
You swat the back of Mike’s head, the sound of his yelp satisfying and the sting of the hit soothes you. He looks at you, offended, and you just shake your head at him. “No, that was out of line and you know it.”
“One day I’m gonna be too tall for you to hit me, you know.” Mike scowls at you as he rubs his head. 
“And I’ll mourn the day when that happens,” you respond dryly before pointing at Lucas. “Now, apologize to him before I hit you again.”
Lucas lowers your finger and shakes his head. “It’s fine, Y/N. Me being on the bench isn’t the point, anyways.”
“Please, arrive at the point.” Your brother drops his head back and closes his eyes. He’s tired, he regrets even starting this conversation in the first place. The more the four of you talk, the angrier he can feel you become. Mike’s head may now be sore, but Dustin lives with you. If anyone here is in danger of your lecturing, it’s him.
“If I get in good with these guys, I’ll be in the popular crowd, and then you guys will be too.” Lucas explains, looking between Dustin and Mike as he urges them to understand, but they don’t. Mike claims that they don’t want to be popular, something that Lucas doesn’t believe. “What, you wanna be stuck with the nerds and freaks for three more years?”
“We are nerds and freaks!” Dustin exclaims, causing a few students in the hall to look at you guys. You wave at them awkwardly, you’re starting to regret following the boys. This conversation feels personal, like you shouldn’t be intruding. Though you think Lucas has every right to want a good high school experience, you also think Mike and Dustin deserve to have their own experiences as well. If they don’t want to be popular, then that’s their decision just as much as it’s Lucas’ to want to be. 
You step between the three boys, finally getting their attention. “Guys, no one here is necessarily right or wrong. Lucas has every right to want to be a part of the basketball crowd, and you two,” you raise your eyebrows at Mike and Dustin, “have every right to want to stick with Eddie’s crowd.”
Dustin sighs, “thanks, Y/N–”
“I’m not finished,” you hold a hand up and shush your brother. “What isn’t right, however, is abandoning one another. You guys are friends, and right now Lucas wants you at his game tonight to support him. Tonight is special, everyone will be there, and I want you guys there as well. I know high school is hard, but it’s even harder when you’re alone.”
“Says the girl who is adored by everyone in this shitty town.” Mike huffs, he can’t believe how hypocritical you’re being. “You’ve never had to deal with what we do. No one has ever laughed at you or tried to make you jump off a cliff just because you’re different.”
You clench your jaw. Dustin looks at you wearily, he doesn’t like what Mike is saying, but he also can’t help but agree with his friend. You haven’t ever been bullied. All your life you’ve blended in, stood out only when you were kind to others, admired for your selflessness, but never enough to be invited to parties or dumped behind a dumpster.
“Mike…” Your brother tries to pull him away from you, but you both stand your ground.
“You’re right, Wheeler. I don’t know what it’s like.” You stare up at the boy, and Mike’s expression softens only slightly. He’s just as stubborn as you are, it’s why the two of you admire the other so much. “But you forget that I’m Jonathan’s best friend. The creep, the loser, the psychopath. Kids may not have ever targeted me, but I’ve seen what they do to the people they hate.”
All the times you had to ice Jonathan’s bruised face. The nights you spent in his room holding him as he cried because Lonnie’s fists and Tommy’s cruel words were too much. The sneers, the stares Jonathan received because he was different. Quiet. Being your best friend hadn’t lessened the blows. 
For years you wish you could’ve done more for Jonathan. Now, presented with Lucas’ opportunity to befriend the crowd that once was so cruel to your friend, you refuse to lose it. “That’s why I don’t want Lucas skipping the game tonight.”
It’s silent for a few moments, all three boys don’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, Lucas stands beside you and breaks the silence. “We came to high school wanting things to be different, right? Now we have that chance. Like Y/N said, if I skip tonight, that’s all out the window. So I’m asking you guys, as a friend, just talk to Eddie. Get him to move Hellfire.”
Lucas pauses, he wets his lips and looks between his friends again. He feels so small, pleading for their attention. “Come to my game. Please.”
The bell rings, ending the conversation, and Lucas spares one last look at Dustin and Mike before mumbling a soft goodbye to you. He leaves you alone with the boys, who in turn mirror conflicted expressions. 
“Shit!” Dustin kicks his foot out and looks at you. “This is all your fault, you know that?”
“What is?”
“Me having empathy. I hate this. Why couldn’t you have raised me to be an asshole?”
You snort at Dustin before pulling him into a weak hug. You only have a few more minutes before you need to get to class, you can’t stay very long, but you also don’t want to leave the boys without some semblance of comfort. “You’re too charming to be an asshole. Just… Come to the game, alright? Both of you. I’ll even make brownies if I have to. I just-I’ve missed you guys. This will be good for all of us.”
Mike ducks his head and Dustin sighs once more. Neither want to say anything else, so you reluctantly release your brother and leave them alone to wallow in their self-created misery. 
They’ll do the right thing. You’re sure of it.
– 
Lunch comes and Alex sits next to you. He started sitting with you at lunch just after winter break, and you’re endlessly grateful for him. You’re no longer alone, and he’s good company. A part of you regrets that it took the two of you three years to grow your friendship outside of Bookstrorindary. 
You’ll miss him when you graduate. 
Max is with Ms. Kelly today, a change in their usual meeting schedule of Tuesdays and Thursdays, meaning you had been right. She did skip their meeting yesterday and the counselor had to corner her this morning to schedule another one. 
“Be honest, how excited are you to move to New York this summer?” Alex asks you, taking a bite out of his carrot stick. You’ve come to learn that he has a weird obsession with the vegetable, always packing at least twelve of them every day. 
You pick at your own lunch, a wilted salad and sandwich your mom left for you this morning. “Honestly? It hasn’t really hit me yet. I mean, I only got in last week. I think my mind is still trying to catch up with reality.”
“Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little excited.”
“Okay, okay,” you laugh and nudge the boy. “I’m a little excited. I just.. Haven’t really had time to think too much about it, you know? Between work, my brother, Steve, the kids, and…”
“Jonathan?” Alex finishes for you. He’s the only one who knows about how distant Jonathan has been. You’ve confided in him about how worried you are, about the phone calls while he’s high and the way Jonathan’s voice no longer sounds like his. 
You shove your lunch away, no longer hungry. “Yeah.”
“You guys call every Friday, right? Maybe tonight will be different!” Alex tries to cut through the tension that now corrodes your demeanor, which you smile at him gratefully for. 
“Yeah, who knows.” A piece of hair falls in your face and you push it behind your ear. Picking up your fork again, you attempt to finish your meal, but a sudden commotion interrupts the low buzz in the lunchroom. 
“As long as you’re into band, or science, or parties.” Eddie Munson sneers from the cafeteria table he’s standing on. He looks around the room as if everyone else is beneath him. Not worth his time just because they enjoy different things. Looking at Alex, you both sigh and prepare for whatever Eddie has to say today. His voice grows louder, shouting across the room towards the basketball team’s table. “Or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets!”
Jason stands up and a few students whoop and cheer. “You want something, freak?”
Eddie sticks to fingers up behind his head as he creates little devil horns, snarling with his tongue out and hissing. Jason grimaces, you do too. 
“He’s a little much, isn’t he?” You say to Alex, relieved when Eddie starts to step down from the table. 
“He terrifies me.” Alex breathes out, not taking his eyes off Eddie in fear he’ll somehow cast a spell on him.
You laugh at your friend’s unnecessary fear. Eddie is harmless, Hellfire isn’t a demonic cult like some students at Hawkins seem to think. It really is just a club centered around a board game with impressive storytelling and detailed plotlines. From what Dustin has told you, Eddie truly is the best dungeon master in Indiana. 
And while you believe him, you can’t wrap your head around why your brother idolizes Eddie so much. The fascination runs deeper than just DnD. Dustin has spent almost every day of his freshman year wrapped around Eddie’s finger. He spends all his time with the teen now, rarely with you, but you’re not bitter. Of course you’re not. Dustin can have his own friends, you know this, but you also feel so… unneeded. 
Your little brother doesn’t need you anymore, and it’s a hard pill to swallow.
Truthfully, Alex’s question earlier about moving to New York in the summer sparked more than just your usual anxiety over Jonathan. It also reminded you that in only a few short months you’ll be in an entirely new state, a new city, far away from Dustin. 
“Y/N!” Dustin flies into the seat next to you, nearly upending the table itself with how violently he throws himself down.
Alex shrieks and you steady the table before anything can fall. Heart pounding, you clutch at your chest as your nerves settle. “Why must you always be so violent?”
“Because it’s fun,” Dustin responds, not even bothering to acknowledge Alex’s presence. Instead, his eyes are only on you, and there’s a crazed spark in them. He’s breathing heavily, frantic, and you dread where this is going. “Look, I need to ask you a huge favor.”
“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve sat with me at lunch since the first day?”
He winces. “And I will repent every day for my horrendous sins. I promise, I just–Jesus you’re terrifying when you don’t blink.” Dustin removes his hat to fix his hair, a nervous tick of his. He’s stalling, he should’ve never come here. Gulping, he rips the band aid off. “I need you to sub for Lucas tonight.”
“I’m sorry?” You’re giving him an out, one chance to back down before you strangle him.
Only Dustin tightens the noose even more. “Please, Y/N! Eddie won’t move the campaign. He said something about sheep and-and finding subs because Mike and I are, uh. I guess the future of Hellfire and he needs us and did I mention how important this campaign is? It’s super cool, super gory and totally up your alley and–”
“No.”
“N-no?” Dustin practically deflates in front of you, the light in his eyes dies. 
You shove him away from you, you don’t want to look at his pathetic pouting. You’re so unbelievably hurt right now, so fucking infuriated. “You have spent every goddamn waking hour ass kissing Eddie. You haven’t so much as looked at me during lunch this entire year as if I’m a fucking plague. You’ve canceled plans, you’re hardly ever home, and now you expect me to abandon Lucas, someone who has spent time with me this year, someone who has made this entire year less lonely for me. Something, by the way, that you haven’t even noticed, all because you finally need me?”
Dustin’s mouth opens and closes, he doesn’t know what to say, but for once you don’t care. How could he possibly think you’d miss Lucas’ game tonight? You adore the boys, each and every one of them, and now Dustin expects you to just abandon one of them for the others? 
“You’re only here because it’s convenient for you.” You hiss, venom pouring from your voice. “For Eddie.” 
“Y/N…” Dustin’s voice breaks, he sounds like a little kid again, the baby brother you doted on your entire life. “Please.”
“No!” You scream at him. 
The word echoes throughout the cafeteria. A few students turn to you, some curious, some annoyed. Alex draws into himself, wishing he were anywhere but here right now. Dustin’s eyes widen, his skin pales, and you clamp your hand over your mouth, completely and utterly mortified. 
You’ve never, ever yelled at Dustin like this before. Not with so much malice, vitriol. 
You feel like you’re twelve again, your anger hurting your baby brother. 
Red hot with embarrassment and shame, you quickly get up from the table and flee the cafeteria. Dustin calls after you, but you stumble through the hallway towards the nearest bathroom. Tears burn your eyes, guilt wracks your body in painful thuds. 
By the time you lock yourself in the bathroom’s stall, your sobs have begun to claw their way out of your throat. Pressing your back against the wall, you sink to the ground and pull your knees into your chest as you finally allow yourself to cry.
Abandonment makes you cruel. Your father taught you that.
– 
You don’t see Dustin for the rest of the day. He’s missing Lucas’ game and you’re angry with him for that, but you also feel such an intense guilt over your outburst. You can’t stomach the thought of seeing him. 
School ends and Steve drives you to work. The shift will be a short one due to the championship game, and Steve is staying with you so that you can drive to the game together. However, the moment you get into his car, he notices the dried tears on your face and the redness in your eyes and immediately throws his arms around you. In between shaky breaths and cries, you explain what happened to Steve.
He soothes you, tells you that you can always talk to Dustin after tonight’s game. Right now you and your brother need space from one another, and you hate that Steve’s right. You’ll force Dustin into a code blue, you’re long overdue for one, anyways. He’s been acting weird for weeks now. Someone has to give in, you know this, and if it has to be you then you’ll do anything to get your brother back. 
For now, Steve holds your hand as he guides you through the crowd of people in the bleachers. They all cheer for Hawkins High, the energy in the gym is electric. Faces are painted, cheerleaders wave their pom-poms, and you’re wearing Steve’s old Tigers jersey. You’re not much for school spirit, but Steve almost crashed the car when he realized you were wearing the jersey, and you know Lucas will appreciate it too.
“Y/N, over here.” Steve’s hand falls onto the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards some open seats he’s found. You lean into his touch and sit beside him. With his body against yours, you try to immerse yourself in the joy from the crowd. 
The entire town is here tonight. Everyone is smiling, kids laugh and parents wave posters for their sons. Tonight will be a good night, you’ve decided this to be true. 
The national anthem is announced and everyone rises in their seats. When the broadcaster announces that Tammy Thompson will be singing, you and Steve look at each other incredulously. Laughter rises within you and you cackle when Robin finds the two of you in the crowd. There’s no way this won’t end in disaster. 
Tammy walks out, wearing a horrendous faux cowboy outfit, and almost immediately sings off-key. You cringe, ears stinging from the attack, and try desperately not to let out any laughter as she continues to butcher the song. 
Steve whispers over to Robin, “told you. Muppet.”
“Okay, she does sound like a muppet.” Robin agrees, which only makes it harder to contain your giggles. Tammy is worse than a muppet, she sounds like a goddamn muppet that broke into her dad’s alcohol stash. 
“You sound better, angel.” Steve whispers into your ear, breath warm against your skin. 
You lean back against him and smile sarcastically. “Anyone can sound better than her.”
Steve chuckles and you can’t help but join him. You know it’s rude, that Tammy is honestly not that bad, though definitely not good enough for Nashville, but you can’t help it. You can’t believe Robin ever had such a huge crush on the girl who now drones the national anthem like a dying parrot. 
In between breaths of laughter, you see Lucas looking up at the bleachers. His face is grim, he doesn’t see Mike or Dustin or Max. None of his friends showed up, and you watch him with sympathy. You can’t believe them. 
But then Lucas sees you, and he gives you a weak smile. Your attendance isn’t enough, you know it isn’t, but you hold up the poster you made for him and he laughs despite himself. 
The game starts, and from the moment the whistle is blown, it’s intense. The Tigers are neck and neck with the Falcons. Steve tries to explain what’s happening throughout the game, but it all goes over your head. The energy in the room is intoxicating, though. You lean forward in your seat, you cheer when everyone else does, boo when you think you should.
“Carver just loves hogging the spotlight, doesn’t he?” Steve says with disdain as he watches Jason side sweep his teammates to score. 
You poke his side, you know he’s only saying this because he’s still bitter that Jaosn tried asking you out last summer. “Honey, your jealousy is showing.” 
Steve tries to deny this, but then a player gets injured during a foul from Falcon, causing you and Steve to both spew insults at the player. You have no idea what the foul even is, but you’re enjoying the chaos of the game.
In the midst of your uproar, you almost miss Lucas being sent into the game. You slap Steve’s chest repeatedly to get his attention, you almost don’t believe what you’re seeing. “Steve! Is that–”
“Sinclair!” He whoops, but he quickly scrambles to catch you as you nearly throw yourself off the bleachers in your blind excitement cheering. You’re screaming your head off, hardly even registering Steve’s hands on your waist. You’re incoherent and ecstatic, drunk on adrenaline. 
Lucas is playing.
The game only gets more brutal from there. The points even out, both teams neck and neck. Anxious, you squeeze Steve’s hand with anticipation. Everything happens so fast, Lucas plays so naturally with the others, as if he was born to be there. 
“Go, Tigers!” You jump up and down as Lucas runs after Jason. They’re doing a new play, attempting to score the tie breaker. Jason shoots, the ball hits off the backboard and onto the rim. Your breath catches, there’s only three seconds left on the clock. The ball falls, and there isn’t any time left.
Until Lucas catches the missed shot. He dribbles the ball, you clutch Steve’s hand, neither one of you utters a single word as Lucas makes the final shot. It’s an all or nothing throw, a risk, but he takes it anyways. The ball soars through the air, hits the rim. The buzzer sounds, the game is over, and the ball spins around the rim before finally sinking through the net.
Your chest burns as you violently cheer, Steve flings himself into your arms. You’re both jumping around, screaming together like little kids. “Hey did it!” You scream, and Steve shakes you in his arms with the biggest smile on his face.
“Sinclair did it!”
Down below, Lucas’ face lights up as the crowd goes wild for him. This is the happiest you’ve seen the kid in so long. The entire basketball team swarms Lucas, they lift him into the air and you cheer alongside them.
Steve tells you he’ll go warm the car up and you practically run outside to find Lucas as soon as the game is done. Your body buzzes, you’re still breathless with exhilaration. When you find Lucas, he’s just left the crowd of teenage boys. Wanting to surprise him, you creep up slowly before throwing your arms from behind him. “There’s the star!”
He stumbles from your weight, but he knows it’s you. Laughing, he turns around and you pull him into a bone crushing hug. “You came!”
“Of course I did, you moron!” You giggle, pulling away to straighten his jacket. “I made you a poster and everything.”
Lucas looks down at the poster that hangs by your side. His eyes light up, he remembers seeing it in the stands at the beginning of the game, but he hadn’t been able to read it from so far away. “Can I see it?”
“I’d be offended if you didn’t want to see it.” You unroll the poster and present it with a grand flourish. “Tada!” 
Sin to win, Sinclair!
You’re incredibly proud of the wordplay, and Lucas chuckles. It’s good, he has to admit. You’ve left no white space on the poster, littering with small 8’s for his jersey and millions of small stickers and decorations. The poster was made with love, and Lucas knows you spent hours making it.
“I love it, Y/N.” He does. It will hang on his wall as soon as he gets home.
You beam at him. Then, from behind you, you hear your brother’s own cheers as a door opens. Lucas’ smile fades, hurt creeps upon his face. Frowning, you turn and find Dustin and Mike high fiving their Hellfire friends as they all celebrate the end of their campaign. Erica is with them, cheering with everyone else. 
“Lucas…” Your breath gives out. He doesn’t deserve this. Tonight was supposed to be his night. You turn to him, wracking your brain to try and figure out what you’re even supposed to say at this moment. Fifty feet away Lucas’ close friends are celebrating a night without him, his sister overjoyed as well. They’ve forgotten about him.
For once, you can’t find the right words to say.
“Thanks for the poster, Y/N.” Lucas doesn’t want your sympathy. He leaves, crestfallen, and you’re left standing alone holding the poster he had been praising seconds ago. The late March air chills your bones. 
You’ve never been so disappointed in your brother before.
– 
Steve drives you home and you’re silent the entire time. 
“Dustin isn’t a bad kid, Y/N. You know that.” Steve tries to reason with you, but what your brother has done tonight leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “I’m sure by tomorrow he’ll realize he was a jerk and apologize. He always does, he’s just being a stupid teen boy right now.”
You face the window, watching the trees fading into the distance. You know Steve is right, you know that Dustin is still growing up, making mistakes. Hell, no one is perfect at fifteen. When you were his age you were falling in love with your best friend as you hunted monsters together. Neither you or Jonathan or Nancy knew what the hell you guys were doing back then.
But this is different. Dustin has never betrayed his friends like this before. He, out of all of them, should understand the pain of being left behind. He spent half the summer upset that the party ditched him, and now he’s ditching Lucas?
“You know, I used to be a stupid teen boy.” Steve says, trying again to get you to say something. To look at him, at least.
It works, a small smile turns your lips. “I never knew.”
He laughs at the sarcasm in your voice, but he plays along anyways. “Oh, I totally was. I just hid it really well by, you know, making you hate me for a while by being annoying. But hey, look at me now! I’m still annoying, but at least I have it all figured out with you.”
“And what do you have figured out, honey?” You turn your head towards him, watch the street lamps illuminate his face.
Steve smiles. “Us. Our future. Sure, I may not know if I’ll ever get a better job, but I’m sure as shit staying with you, starting a life together so that I can annoy you for all eternity.”
“How romantic,” a giggle falls from your lips. You’ve been with Steve for nearly a year now, but you haven’t really talked about the future yet. At least not so intimately, with so much assurance that in the end it’ll be the two of you. “And where will we live, Romeo?”
“New York, obviously. As soon as you graduate, we’ll find some horrible, run down apartment that’s barely big enough for two people. We’ll move in, but there won’t be any air conditioning so we’ll almost murder each other in the heat. Everyone will hate the place, but we’ll love it.”
As Steve talks, the smile that had once been on your face begins to fade. He rambles on, not noticing the shift. He dreams up the plans, how he’ll stay home while you go to class. How he’ll fix the leaky faucet that will inevitably annoy everyone. Steve envisions himself waiting for you to come home after a long day of classes and falling into his arms. 
“Steve–” But he doesn’t hear you. He’s busy explaining how he’ll probably have to sell his car to afford the apartment, but that he doesn’t care, and you feel sick. It’s too much, he’s giving up too much. He’s willing to give up his entire life for you, drop everything and follow you without any questions asked. 
It’s what your mother did for your father. They met in college, both attending Purdue. Their relationship had been a whirlwind. Love at first sight, married as soon as they graduated, your father convinced your mom to follow him back to Virginia. To abandon her family and move two states over while pregnant with you. She didn’t know anyone in Virginia, her father moved them to a small town where only his name was known. 
The divorce that followed twelve years later ruined your mother’s life. She had been left all alone, no family to support her, no friends, in a state she never grew up in.
And now Steve wants to do the same for you.
Raising your voice slightly, you try to interrupt him again. “Steve!”
“What?” He looks over at you, words finally dying. “Do you want to keep the car?”
“You… you can’t.” 
Steve frowns. “I can’t what?”
Your hands shake. Your heart trembles. Your words die in your throat. There’s so much you want to say, you can feel the pit in your stomach build into a fist. You can’t let Steve do this. He doesn’t understand that he deserves more than this. “You-you can’t come to New York.”
Everything stills. You don’t dare to breathe, to disrupt the silence. Your words come out all wrong, you know they do, but they’re out in the open and Steve doesn’t look at you as he pulls into your driveway. Silent, he turns the car’s engine off.
“Y/N…” Steve still can’t look at you. He places his hands on the steering wheel, as if bracing himself for whatever will unfold tonight. He’s scared, he doesn’t understand what he’s done wrong. His mind flashes, and for a brief second he’s back at the Halloween party and you’re Nancy in his passenger seat. “Do you not see a future with me?”
“I do!” You sit up in your seat, reach over to touch Steve’s thigh. You need to feel him, to ground yourself to him. Everything about this feels wrong. As if you’re hanging over the edge of a chasm with a long, long fall. “God, of course I see a future with you, I just-this isn’t what you really want.”
Steve doesn’t want to move to New York, even if he doesn’t realize it now. What he’s really doing is chasing after a dream that isn’t his. The timing of this is off, he fought with his dad this morning about a future he was unsure of. You know Steve, maybe even better than he knows himself; he’s not doing it for your relationship or out of love. Steve only wants to appease his father, fulfill whatever desire he thinks you have. This isn’t what he wants, and he’s worked too hard to build the life he has now, without you, to simply throw it all away.
But he can’t see that right now.
“Of course this is what I want, Y/N! All I want is you.” Steve finally looks at you, but there’s a hardness in his eyes. He’s detaching himself from you, putting his walls up. “You and me, that’s what I want.”
You grab his hand, you try to keep your voice calm. “Steve, I love you so, so much, but I can’t-I can’t let you give everything up for me. Your life is here, in Hawkins. You have a job, you have your friends and-and your family, and it wouldn’t be fair to either one of us if you abandon it for me. You could-you could resent me for it later, you could realize you hate our life and wish you never followed me and–”
“Y/N, what did you think was going to happen when you were applying to all those colleges?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, he thought you were beside him this whole time. He assumed you’d been carving out the same future he had been. But he was wrong. “Did you really think I’d just stay behind and wait for you to come home every break?”
“I…” Shamefully, you hadn't been considering what would happen between you and Steve. In your mind, he was your future, he was in it, but the details were hazy. You weren’t sure how, or why, or when, but you knew that in the end, Steve was the person you’d spend forever with. 
Steve takes your hesitancy as his answer. “God, I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“Steve–”
“You were just going to leave me.”
He tears his hand from yours and you blink back tears. You’ve never fought with him before, not like this. “I wasn’t just going to leave you! I just-Steve, please just listen!”
“I am, Y/N!” Steve exclaims, voice reverberating the car. You flinch away, and he immediately lowers his voice, apologetic. He hadn’t meant to scare you, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. Ashamed, Steve turns away from you. “I-I’m sorry.” 
He wants to wipe the tears he’s caused, but selfishly he also wants you to hurt like he’s hurting. You don’t see a future with Steve. You were going to leave him just like everyone else does. 
Steve should’ve known all of this was too good to be true. 
“I love you,” your voice is almost inaudible, the three words barely reach the light before they disappear into the dark night. You’re not sure why you say them, the words had built in your chest, the pressure heavy, and you needed to release them. To remind Steve of your oath to him. 
Silence fills the car. Steve doesn’t look at you, his shoulders are drawn together. His jaw clenches and you know he’s trying desperately to bite his tongue, withholding the cruel words that only heartbreak can provoke. 
“Honey,” you beg him to say something, anything. “Steve.”
“I think you should go.”
The dismissal punches your throat, knocks the wind out of you. He’s shutting you out, closing himself off from you, and you don’t understand how the two of you got here. “I… Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Steve’s words are cool, composed. Indifferent, almost. He still doesn’t look at you, his eyes remain focused on something in your driveway. “It’s late, you should get some sleep.”
“Okay,” you don’t want to leave, you know it isn’t good to go to bed angry with the one you love. Anger should never simmer, it should never be left unwatched. But Steve is silently asking you to give him space so that he can hurt, and you aren’t selfish enough to deny his request. And yet you’re selfish enough to press your lips to Steve’s cheek, but he doesn’t lean in like how normally does. Instead, he remains stoic, and you swallow down your tears and open the door to leave. “Drive home safe, honey.”
Steve doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he starts the car as soon as the door is closed and drives away. He doesn't look back, he doesn’t wait to see if you’ve made it inside your house safely. 
Tears spill down your face as you blindly walk towards your front door. Your argument with Steve replays over and over again in your head. You analyze every second, every word, you try to understand when everything fell apart. 
It’s dark in your home, your mother is asleep and Dustin’s door is closed, but right now all you want is your brother. You need to talk to him, cry into his shoulder and smell the shampoo he’s used ever since he was a baby. Your feet carry you to Dustin’s room and you pound on his door, begging him to let you in. You don’t bother masking the tears in your voice, you’re too exhausted to hide them from him. “Dustin, please let me in.”
“Go away!” There’s a thud on the door, he’s thrown something at it to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear some stupid lecture right now. He knows he was an asshole tonight, he regrets it, but right now all Dustin wants to do is sleep. He’ll deal with you tomorrow. 
“Code blue,” you press your forehead against the door, your tears fall to the ground. “C-code blue.” Your voice hiccups, more tears come, minutes pass, and your brother never answers.
For the first time since you were kids, Dustin rejects your request for a code blue. 
The phone rings. The sound pierces through your ears, cuts through the headache that is starting to form. It’s Friday night. Jonathan is calling. 
Squeezing your eyes shut as you head pounds, you inhale shakily. You have to answer him, otherwise he’ll only call over and over again with concern. You’ve never missed a phone call, not once in the months since Jonathan has moved, but tonight you’re exhausted. 
“Can we call tomorrow?” You’re too tired to greet him and voice cracks, revealing far too much already.
“Bug?” Jonathan’s high, he’s always high. And yet even in his cloudy haze of smoke he can hear the anguish in your voice. “Is everythin’ okay?”
His question only makes you cry more. You’ve always tried your best to put up a front for others, to pretend that everything is okay. You’ve never wanted to worry people, you’ve always pushed aside your own hurt for the sake of others. Now, as anger and grief and despair clasp their hands around your throat, you’re terrified you’ll suffocate. 
You’ve never been able to lie to Jonathan, and tonight you don’t think you can. “I’ve had… the worst night.” You confess to him, wiping away tears.
You tell him everything, your fight with Dustin, how you think he may resent you leaving for college. You tell Jonathan about Lucas, how you were so disappointed in Dustin and Mike. Choking through tears, you explain to Jonathan your fight with Steve. How your words failed you, how hurt he looked, that you can’t explain to him how he only wants his future to align with yours, but not with your relationship. 
Even though you know that Jonathan won’t remember any of this tomorrow, for once you’re grateful that he’s too high to remember anything. It feels good just being able to say it all out loud. 
“‘M sorry, bug.” Jonathan mumbles over the phone once you’ve finished explaining everything. He sounds far away, figuratively and literally. You can’t imagine how much his drugged mind retained, but you’re thankful to have gotten it all off your chest anyways. 
“It’s fine,” you inhale again, you’ve finally stopped crying, though your chest still hurts and your head still pounds. “Steve and I… We’ll figure it out.”
Jonathan pauses, and for a moment you think he’s fallen asleep, but then his voice floats through the telephone line. “Do you.. Do you ever wonder if we’ve made a mistake?”
He strings his words slowly together, says them one by one with a hesitancy, and you frown. You don’t understand what he’s trying to say. What mistakes could you have made together? “What do you mean, bee?”
“I just… everythin’ is so hard. With Nance. Feel like… like ‘m never enough for her. And you, Steve. ‘S hard between you guys.” Jonathan’s words slur, he’s almost too incoherent to understand, and later you will wish that you hadn’t been able to understand him at all. “But you ‘n me? ‘S easy. Always so easy.”
His words toe the line between you, he can’t mean any of it. You don’t want him to mean any of it, because then the fallout would be too catastrophic to contain.
He’s Jonathan. Your oldest, dearest friend. Your best friend. Years ago, you could’ve been something more, you almost were something more, but the time has passed. 
You’re with Steve now, you’re happy and so, so in love with him. Even though everything is tangled between you right now, even though you’re fighting, you know that you and Steve will figure it out. He’s the one. He’s the man you want to marry one day, if he’ll allow you to. 
Jonathan is your past, Steve is your future, and right now you’re terrified that soon you’ll lose them both.
“Jonathan,” you finally say, his name now heavy on your tongue. It feels like you’re betraying someone while saying his name, but you need to end this conversation. Before Jonathan says something he’ll regret in the morning. “You love Nancy, I love Steve, and you need to go to sleep.”
“Love you,” Jonathan’s words slur even more, his voice drifting off. “You, always you…”
You slam the phone done, ending the call, as a chill runs down your spine. Silence encases you, the house is still. The strings and threads from years ago constrict around your throat. You choke on the lines Jonathan has crossed tonight, the tightness in your head stabs against your skull. 
There is no one to hear you, no one there to hear your final words to your best friend. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”
-
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optimisticmosquito · 1 month
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heavenly demon SY au, with a teaspoon of familial cumplane and a pinch of shenliushen.
Some decade before the tianxi era TLJ has a one night stand with a male demon who gets pregnant. Surprise! it's airplane who wanted a taste of that doomed heavenly pillar. He's older than MBJ in this au and hasn't had the chance to meet young MBJ yet. MBJ has enough on his plate without some random older demon howering around him. SQH is many things a creep he is not, thank you very much.
So instead he gets pregnant by TLJ, has a cry session, wonders if he's going to birth the protagonist, cries some more over all the death flags he has raised for himself, and then just accepts his fate. TLJ doesn't care much about this little surprise, it was just a one night stand after all. However, his advisors have been nagging him about getting hitched and producing heirs, so he sees his chance to finally getting rid of one problem by throwing the other one at it. Very clever indeed!
SQH becomes TLJs first concubine. SQH does not become empress, but until TLJ marries further, he's as good as one. So SQH (with babybump proudly on display) starts fixing up TLJs court, all administrative tasks, and generally making it run smoother than it has for generations. TLJ is happy as can be, finally he can leave his empire for months on end to follow his true calling, reading and watching every human romance story that has ever been produced!
SQH gives birth to a healthy baby boy. But before he can think of naming him LBH, the System interrupts and has him name it SY instead (weird cause neither him nor TLJ is named Shen). SQH figures this is either another transmigrator or the system has plans involving this child. Which, dude, hands off his spawn! Not cool.
SY grows up as the apparent heir to the entire demon realm. Which is awesome! He can pretty much do anything he wants whenever he wants. But also, what about LBH? He isn't meant to be the demon emperor, that's his future didis job! Fuck, he is going to have to fight LBH for the throne isn't he? He's so dead.
It doesn't help that his mother (second father? He's not going to think too long on the logistics behind his birth) is strange even for demonic standards. For a demon he is increadibly skittish, always avoiding conflict like the plague. And he constantly walks around muttering to himself, stoping the moment anyone comes within hearing distance. Although, SY has to admit he's a pretty good parent all things considered. He always makes sure SY has everything he needs and puts away at least one day a week just for the two of them.
SY does find out who SQH is when he one day hears him mumble about the plot and LBH. SY interrogates him and finds out he's another transmigrator. That explains a lot! SQH is happy to learn his child is another transmigrator and not a puppet for the system to push its agenda. So happy in fact he spills he's actually the author of this world, which sends SY through the five stages of grief before circling back to anger. What do you mean that lousy hack author is his mother!?!? Someone end his misery, this should count as child abuse!
He has half of the mind to run away and never be seen again but SQH begs him to stay. He's only in this position bc SY exists and if SY runs away he might get kicked out or pressured into having another child. SY despite it all still on some level sees SQH as his parent and reluctantly agrees to stay and continue on his path as heir. He hasn't met TLJ that often and he knows TLJ wouldn't do anything to stop the rest of his court if they decided to kick SQH out.
So life continues until news arrive about TLJ being burried under a mountain. SQH tells SY that SXY is LBHs mother and probably imprisoned in HHP at that moment. They decide the best course of action would be to kidnap SXY and bring her to the demon realm. SQH should have enough control over the empire even with TLJ gone. Especially with SYs help as the de facto heir and a heavenly demon in his own right.
SY for his part is also fully on board with this plan. He can help raise the protagonist and give him the childhood he deserves? Count him in! It would also help to be on good terms with LBH if he ever decides to take over the demon realm. SY would gladly help him take the throne!
However, before they can set any plan in motion the system assigns them a mission to keep the demon realm from falling into chaos. Moments later the court splinters as factions start fighting each other over power, and the empire dives into unrest and civil war. At the end SY comes out on top and is crowned as the new emperor.
They are too late to do anything as the coldest day of the year has already passed. When they try and send people out to find the newborn LBH they are met by HHP cultivators searching for SXY and end up in multiple skirmishes. In the end SY pulls the demons back over the border when the sects, thinking SY is out to revenge his father, starts threatening with another war.
SY is beyond himself, now how will he escape the protagonists wrath!? SQH deals with the setback the only way he knows, by burying himself in the administrative work. The following years SY spends stabilizing the realm with SQHs help (it's mostly SQH), and starts travelling around to see what the world has to offer. He soon gets a reputation of taking after his father.
SQH all the while continues to run the realm by himself again (nothing new there) and meets the future king of the Northern desert, Mobei-jun. Mobei-jun of course immediately takes interest in the MILF of the demon realm. Half the time he acts like a frightened rodent, the other half he rules the demons with an iron fist, what demon wouldn't be besotted! (SY is well aware most of the realm seems to have the hots for his mother. He tries not to think about it.)
MBJ starts trying to court SQH in typical demonic fashion. H e tries to fight SQH, sends gifts in the form of treasures and kills, and gives over power of the northern desert to SQH. SQH is used to this type of treatment. Most demons seems to want to hit him for some reason? He just writes off the gifts as taxes. And isn't it only natural for demons to push all the work on those that are weaker. MBJ has his work cut out for him.
Meanwhile SY starts travelling the human realm in search of his lost little brother. He's hoping to at least find him before LBH joins CQM. He should be able to at least stop that much of the abuse LBH is meant to experience. And he does find him! At the steps of CQM 10 years after his disappearance. Shit.
SY doesn't dare get too close yet. His disguise isn't good enough to test the scrutiny of cultivators, so going up to LBH right now would be suicide. He decides to come back later, after getting an artifact that would let him hide every trace of his demonic presence. He has no plan on ending up like TLJ. Poor Binghe will just have to survive the tea scene and the first weeek on QJP. SY will make it up to you later! Promise!
SY only shortly returns to the palace to see MBJ is still trying his best to woo mother airplane (without success!). He goes back to the sect and walks directly up to QJP to find LBH, and is instead directed to the bamboo hut. There he's questioned about his intentions, and decides to speak the truth (well most of it). His little brother went missing years ago and now SY believes him to be on this very peak! He has returned to bring LBH back home.
SJ of course hates LBH for the similarities he has to himself, but who would have guessed he also was abandoned by his older brother? Fate is truly laughing him in the face! This won't make SJ hate LBH less, but he has no plan on just giving him over to this stranger who took too long to return for his didi (just like qi-ge). So SJ claims he isn't willing to give up a disciple just like that. Hoping SY will show his true colors and abandon the little beast once and for all. When SY instead doubles down on wanting to take LBH with him, SJ decide to test how far this determination will take him (prove you are not like qi-ge).
Which leaves SY to stay on QJP as a guest while being continuously tested by SJ. And with time they slowly befriend each other and spend time just to share a cup of tea and talk literature (if SJ slowly starts trusting SY with things he's never told anyone else then that's his business).
At some point SY successfully catches a moment with LBH where he introduces himself as LBHs elder brother from their father's side. He offers to take LBH with him and leave that moment, but after LBH has digesting these new revelations (he has a brother!), declines. His adoptive mother wanted him to be a righteous cultivator, so a cultivator he'll become!
SY, already unable to deny this little bun anything, just has to accept he'll have to spend some time on QJP. Maybe he'll be able to persuade LBH to join him once SJ decides he has passed all tests. It's not too bad, SY has complete access to the library and oh boy is there a lot of things he never learned about the human realm before.
At the same time he meets the rarely seen bai zhan peak lord. LQG immediately thinks something is fishy with this QJP guest, but he's not sure what exactly (his war god senses are tingling). So to SJs great annoyance he starts showing up more often, trying to figure SY out. He even invites SY on a few monster hunts to see if he slips up, but to no avail (there are a few close calls). The more time they spend together the more he finds he enjoys talking about beasts with SY (he'll take it to the grave how his stomach flutters when SY teases him). SY even succeeds in getting LQG to teach LBH some swordforms once in a while.
When SYs identity as the demon emperor is finally revealed, it's a surprise to all three of them.
(Once SY is finally able to return to the demon realm for a visit it's to MBJ introducing himself as SYs new stepdad)
514 notes · View notes
aceyalonso · 9 days
Text
that's the thing about illicit affairs - OSCAR PIASTRI
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pairing : ex!oscar piastri x fem!reader ↳ slight lando x fem!reader at the end
summary : a maid of honor and a groom that she knows all too well, only one of them gets their happy ending.
warnings : swearing, drinking, fighting, relationship issues, mentions of settling down, marriage, majority of story takes place in 2027
word count : 6.5k
song : illicit affairs - taylor swift
a/n : happy 400 followers with a not so happy post! and a special ty to @iamred-iamyellow for convincing me to write this <3
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September 10th, 2024
Y/n lifted her head from Oscar's chest, shifting her position to look at him directly. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking. "Have you ever thought about getting engaged or married someday?"
Oscar's expression turned slightly cautious as Y/n asked the question. He paused for a moment, thinking about it. Finally, he responded, "Well... I haven't really given it much though, to be honest. I've been focused on our relationship and enjoying our time together."
He shifted a bit on the couch, now sitting up straight. His gaze remained fixed on Y/n as he continued. "Why do you ask? Is it something you've been thinking about?"
Y/n nodded, a mild sense of disappointment showing on her face at the realization that Oscar hadn't seriously thought about it yet. "I was just wondering. It's something that's been on my mind for a while."
The conversation turned into a more serious tone as the topic escalated to an argument. The initial lighthearted mood was replaced with tension and disagreement between Y/n and Oscar.
Y/n's frustration began to show on her face, her voice getting slightly louder. "I don't understand why you haven't thought about it yet. We've been together for 3- Almost 4 years, Oscar."
Oscar's initial surprise at the escalation of the argument slowly turned to frustration as well. He responded, his voice rising slightly as well. "It's not that I don't want to marry you, it's just... I don't know if I'm ready for it yet. The thought of getting engaged or married is a huge commitment.
Y/n scoffed a bit, her agitation growing. "I know it's big commitment. But that's exactly why it's important to discuss it and be on the same page about our future. I need to know what we agree and don't agree on!"
Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't want you to feel like I'm avoiding the topic, but it feels like you're putting pressure on me to make this decision. I just need more time to think about it, alright?"
Y/n crossed her arms, clearly dissatisfied with Oscar's response. She lets out a huff before responding. "More time? We've been together for years, and still need more time to think about it? How much more time do you need?"
Oscar's irritation grew at Y/n's response. He raised his voice slightly, matching her heightened tone. "I understand that we've been together for a long time, but that doesn't mean I have to be ready to get engaged or married right now. And constantly pressuring me about it isn't going to make ready any faster.
Y/n shot back with a bit more heat in her words. "I'm not trying to pressure, I just want some clarity about our future. It's not unreasonable to expect some form of commitment after being together for this long. You make it sound like you're not even sure if you want to marry me at all!"
Oscar's expression hardened at Y/n's accusation. "That's not fair. You know I love you, and I don't doubt our relationship. But marriage is a big step, and I want to be absolutely certain that we're both ready and willing to commit to it for the rest of our lives."
Y/n let out an exasperated sigh, feeling increasingly frustrated. "I understand that, but I feel like you're keeping me in limbo. You can't ask for more time without giving me some assurances that you do see a future with me. I need some sort of confirmation that we're on the same page here."
Oscar let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "Okay, look, I do see a future with you. I do want to be with you for the rest of my life, alright? I just need more time to mentally prepare for the idea of getting engaged or married. It's a lot to process all at once."
Y/n relaxed slightly at Oscar’s reassurance, but their concerns still lingered on their face. “That’s good to hear, but it’s still not enough for me. I need more than just words. I need some kind of proof that you’re serious about our future together.”
Oscar, now clearly irritated, threw his hands up in desperation. “What more assurance do you need? I just told you that I see a future with you and that I love you. What else could you possibly want from me? A written guarantee? A legal contract?”
Y/n, equally frustrated, shot back with an aggressive tone. “No, I don’t need a written contract. I just need some sort of action, some steps towards making our future together a reality. You keep telling me you’re sure about us, but then you hesitate when it comes to actually making a commitment.”
The argument continued to escalate, both Y/n and Oscar becoming more frustrated and emotional. Y/n’s voice continued to raise, their words now filled with frustration and hurt. “I can’t believe you’re still making excuses. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who wants to take our relationship to the next level. You keep stalling, and it makes me question if you really want to marry me at all!”
Oscar, in his frustration and anger, snapped back with a hurtful remark. “You know what, if you keep acting like this, maybe I won’t marry you at all! At least I'll be free from you and your stupid neediness!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. The pain and shock on Y/N’s face were evident, and he knew he had crossed a line.
Y/n stood up from the sofa, tears beginning to well up in her eyes. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "Fine, if that's really what you want, then it won't happen. If you don't see a future with me, if you don't want to marry me, then there's nothing more to discuss."
Y/n, moving with purpose, made her way to the bedroom. There, she hastily grabbed a suitcase from the closet and began stuffing it with clothes and essentials. A sense of anger and determination filled her actions, her emotions still heightened from the argument.
Meanwhile, Oscar followed behind, trying to stop Y/n form leaving. He entered the bedroom and pleaded with her, his voice filled with regret and desperation. "Where are you going? You can't just leave like this!"
Y/n snapped back at him, her voice still angry and strained. "I can and I will. You just made it clear that you don't see a future with me. What am I supposed to do? Stay and keep hoping that someday you'll change your damn mind?!"
Oscar, his emotions conflicting, tried to find the words to convince Y/n to stay. "I didn't mean it. I was just so frustrated and angry, I didn't what I was saying. Please, don't go. We need to talk this through."
Y/n, who was still packing her suitcase, paused for a moment to look at Oscar. "There's nothing more to talk about. You said what you said, and I heard it loud and clear. You don't see a future with me, so what's the fucking point?"
Pausing once more in the midst of packing, looked directly at Oscar. "When we first started dating, I made it clear that I wanted to settle down one day. I was upfront about my expectations, and you knew what I wanted. Yet, here we are, years later, and you're still not ready for that commitment.
Oscar, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration, responded defensively. "I know I haven't been ready yet, but I told you I need more time. That doesn't mean I never want to marry you. It just means I'm not ready right now."
Y/n, now fully packing their suitcase, shot back with a hint of sarcasm. "Right, because waiting endlessly for you to make up your mind is so fun. You've had years, Oscar. How much more time do you need? A decade? A lifetime?"
Oscar, starting to get frustrated again, tried to defend himself. "You're acting like I'm doing this on purpose! I'm not stalling or avoiding the issue. I just need more time to figure things out. I have to be sure about such a big commitment!"
Y/n zipped up her suitcase, expression hard and uncompromising. "Spare me the excuses, Oscar. You've had ample time to reflect and consider. And here I am, still waiting for you to make a move. Your inability to make a decision speaks volumes, and I refuse to continue wasting my time, hoping for something you're not even ready to give."
Y/n, now walking out of the bedroom with suitcase in tow, was stopped in her tracks by Oscar's gentle yet firm on her free wrist. As she turned to look at him, he called out to her with a pleading tone. "Baby, wait. Don't go. Let's talk about this. Please."
Y/n looked him in the eye with a mixture of hurt and anger. "Don't call me 'baby'. You don't get to use endearments on me now. You lost that privilege when you made it clear that you don't see me as someone worth committing to."
Oscar, realizing his mistake in using the endearment, looked at Y/n with a remorse and desperation. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called you that. I'm just trying to get you to stay and talk to me about this."
Y/n shook her head, her expression still firm and determined. "No, I'm done talking. I'm done waiting. You had your chance to discuss this, and you dismissed it. I don't want to hear any more excuses or apologies right now. I need space."
Oscar, growing increasingly worried, pleaded with Y/n once more. "Please, don't go. This is the same old argument we've had before, but we've always worked through it. Let's take a break, cool off, and come back to this later."
"Exactly!" Y/n's voice is laced with frustration and exhaustion. "We keep pushing this issue aside, hoping it'll resolve itself. But it never does!" she says, tears starting to fall in between sobs. "Instead, it just becomes a bigger problem each time we avoid it. We can't avoid this conversation forever, and it's tearing me apart."
Y/n, determined to leave despite Oscar’s efforts to hold her back, breaks free from his grip and walks towards the door.
Oscar, watching her walk away, calls out to her pleadingly. "Please, don’t go. We can work this out, can’t we? You can’t just leave without resolving this."
Y/n, standing at the door with suitcase in hand, responds with a mix of determination and pain. "You’re right. There won’t be anything to resolve if there’s nothing left between us. And right now, it feels like there’s nothing left to salvage."
Oscar, panicked and desperate, tries one last effort to make her stay. "No, don’t say that! We have years together, a life built together. You can’t throw it all away just like that."
Y/n, her voice tinged with hurt and bitterness, answers with a sharp response. "When you said you don’t feel free around me, it felt like a slap in the face. As if being with me is some kind of prison sentence to you. So maybe it’s better if you are free, without me in the picture."
Y/n opens the door, her steps resolute and determined. Without looking back, she walks out and slams the door shut behind her. Oscar, left alone in the apartment, stands frozen in place, the sound of the door slamming echoing in his ears.
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February 12, 2027
Three years have passed since Y/n left, and she has found herself in a different place, both geographically and emotionally. She has moved from Monaco to France, and is now living in a cozy apartment with her roommate, Alexandra.
Y/n and Alexandra are folding laundry and chatting away in the living room, enjoying each other's company. Suddenly, Y/n's phone buzzes, signaling an incoming call. She glances at the screen to see that it's her cousin calling.
Y/n, spotting the caller ID "lily 💗", excuses herself from the conversation with Alexandra. She picks up the phone, her voice tinged with curiosity. "Hey, what's up?"
Lily, sounding excited on the other end of the line, wastes no time in telling her the news. "Hey, guess what? I'm getting married! And I'd really love it if you could come to the wedding. It wouldn't be the same without you here!"
A smile spreads across Y/n's face as she listens to her cousin's cheerful announcement. She feels a mix of joy and surprise. "Oh my goodness, that's wonderful news! I'm so happy for you. Of course, I'd love to be there for your wedding. It's going to be a beautiful occasion. Have you set a date yet?"
Her cousin, still beaming with happiness, replies warmly. "Yes, we have! We're getting married in two months, at a beautiful venue here in Monte Carlo. It's going to be a wonderful celebration. I can't wait for you to be there with me."
Y/n's cousin, continuing the conversation, extends a special invitation. "Oh, and by the way, I wanted to ask you something else. Would you do me the honor of being my maid of honor? It would mean the world to me if you were by my side on my special day."
She feels a wave of warmth and appreciation at her cousin's request. She quickly responds with enthusiasm. "Oh my goodness, of course I'll be your maid of honor! It would be my absolute honor to stand by your side on your wedding day. I'm so touched that you asked me."
Her cousin lets out a happy sigh, feeling relieved and delighted at Y/n's acceptance. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm so glad you said yes. I can already imagine us having so much fun during the preparations and on the big day. You're going to be the best maid of honor ever!"
She rejoins Alexandra in the living room, her expression a mix of joy and excitement. "Sorry, that was my cousin. She's getting married apparently? She asked me to be her maid of honor too!"
Alexandra, hearing the exciting news, lights up with delight. "Oh, that's fantastic! Congratulations to the both of you!" she says, clapping lightly. "Being a maid of honor is such a special role. When's the big day?"
Y/n's voice brims with anticipation as she responds. "In two months, it'll be in Monte Carlo."
Alexandra, curious to know more about Y/n's cousin and her fiancé, poses a question with a tone of intrigue. "That sounds wonderful! So who's the lucky groom?"
Y/n opens her mouth before slowly closing it. "You know, I just realized, I don't actually know..." she replies sheepishly.
The two girls sit in awkward silence for a few moments before bursting out laughing. Y/n can finally say that she feels happy. At least, way happier than she was with Oscar.
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April 26, 2027 | Chapel
The long awaited wedding day, and the setting couldn't more picturesque. The venue is adorned with elegant decorations, and Y/n stands by chapel doors, ready to walk down the aisle alongside the best man and to see the groom for the very first time.
Y/n, in her satin green dress, is arm in arm with Lando, the best man (who she met a week ago). They make their way up to the altar, and as her eyes scan the surroundings, something catches her eye. She turns her gaze towards the altar, and there she sees the groom awaiting his bride.
As the groom turns around to face the aisle, Y/n's heart skips a beat. There, standing at the altar, is Oscar, her ex-boyfriend. Y/n feels a mix of shock and disbelief. Lily is getting married to Oscar.
Oscar, caught off guard by the sight of Y/n, manages to keep his composure despite the surprise. His eyes go wide with realization, but he quickly masks his emotions and turns his attention back to the altar.
Lando, feeling Y/n's grip on his arm tighten ever so slightly, turns his attention to her with concern. He senses something is amiss and leans in slightly to inquire in a low whisper. "Hey, is everything alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
Y/n, struggling to find her words, manages to compose herself enough to respond to Lando's question. "I'm... I'm fine." she mutters, forcing a smile. "Don't worry about it. Let's just focus on the ceremony right now. I'll explain everything later if we have time."
Lando, sensing Y/n's unease, nods in understanding but keeps a watchful eye on her throughout the ceremony. He feels there's more to it than meets the eye, but he decides to respect her request to wait until later to explain.
The processional draws to a close as Lily walks down the aisle, looking stunning in her snowy white dress. Y/n, unable to help herself, steals a glance at Oscar, who stands at the altar, his eyes filled with awe as he gazes at the bride- his bride, in all her splendor. There's a mix of shock and a tinge of melancholy in Y/n's expression as she observes him.
Her thoughts race through her mind as she stands alongside the other bridesmaids. She watches Oscar at the altar, his eyes fixated on Lily, and a sudden pang of bittersweetness washes over her. In that moment, she can't help but wonder if this is what it would've been if she and Oscar had gotten married, if they would've worked it out. A mixture of nostalgia and melancholy fills her heart as she contemplates what could have been.
Her inner turmoil intensifies as she struggles to reconcile her current circumstances with the memory of the dreams and aspirations she once had with Oscar. The weight of the unspoken emotions between them hangs heavily in the air, and split second, Y/n finds herself caught in a whirlwind of "what if?" scenarios before she snaps back to reality, reminding herself of the reasons that led them down separate paths. The same reasons that led them to this day.
Lily reaches the altar, and Oscar assists her with her beautiful gown, his hands gently arranging the fabric. In the process, their eyes meet for a fraction of a second, and the intensity of that brief glance nearly brings tears to her eyes. The connection, though fleeting, stirs a mix of emotions within her, bringing back memories and longing she thought she had buried in the past.
Unable to bear the weight of Oscar's gaze any longer, Y/n averts her eyes, feigning the need to fuss with her own gown. She busies herself with adjusting her attire, using the action as a guise to avoid looking at Oscar, who stands just a few steps from her. She tries to mask the turmoil within her, hoping no one notices the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface.
Oscar tears his gaze away from Y/n and redirects his focus to his bride. A genuine, radiant smile illuminates his face, and in that moment, Y/n realizes that she has never seen him smile quite like that before. The smile is wide, full of joy and contentment. Y/n can't help but feel a sharp pang in her heart.
The sight of Oscar's unabashed happiness with his bride strikes a chord deep within Y/n. It awakened a mix of sorrow, regret, and a hint of resignation. She understands that his smile, while beautiful, is no longer hers to witness. The reality of their broken relationship, and the different paths they've taken, is now undeniable, and the weight of that realization settles heavily on her heart.
The mixture of emotions in the air is palpable as Y/n stans beside the other bridesmaids, her eyes till fixated on Oscar and the bride. She can't help but feel a jumble of sadness, envy, and acceptance, witnessing the unfolding scene in front of her. The moment seems to stretch on, each second reminding her of what could have been.
The ceremony continues, and as the moment arrives for Oscar to kiss his bride, the air catches in Y/n's throat. Y/n, along with all the guests gathered, watches as the newly weds lock lips, sealing their union in a heartfelt kiss. Y/n's heart clenches as she longs to be the one standing with Oscar, to be the one he's kissing.
Their kiss seems to last an eternity, each second a poignant reminder of the love that Oscar now shares with someone else. Y/n's eyes are fixed on the couple, her heart wallowing in sorrow and acceptance. The realization that she is no longer a part of Oscar's future washes over her, and she finds herself in the same bittersweet feeling that she found all those years ago.
Y/n, although her heart is heavy, knows she has no choice but to join in the applause. She raises her hands and claps along with the guests. Her hands come together in a rhythmic applause, the sound blending with the collective joy and celebration around her. Inside, her heart is aching, but on the outside, she manages to maintain a semblance of composure, hiding the storm of emotions within her.
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April 27, 2027 | Reception
Time swiftly moves forward to the reception. Lando, as the best man, steps up to the podium, ready to deliver his speech. The room falls silent, and all eyes turn to him, waiting to hear his words. Lando takes a deep breath before starting, his voice filled with a mix of humor, warmth, and genuine affection for the couple.
Lando begins his best man speech with a warm smile, his eyes flickering across the guests. "Good evening, everyone. I feel incredibly honored to be standing here as the best man for this beautiful couple. Today we gather to celebrate love, commitment, and the beginning of a new journey for our newlyweds, Lily and Oscar. I've known Oscar for a long time, and I can confidently say that I've never seen him as happy as he is today, all thanks to the incredible woman sitting beside him."
As Lando continues with his speech, Y/n sits in her chair, listening intently. The mention of Oscar being the happiest he's ever been makes her chest tighten, as though an invisible weight is pressing down on her heart. The reality that Oscar has found true happiness with someone else, the very thing Y/n had once hoped to provide for him, is a bitter pill to swallow.
Y/n, lost in her thoughts, zones out during the last part of Lando's speech. The words around her turn into a blur, and she becomes unaware of the speech's conclusion. Her mind is preoccupied with the barrage of emotions swirling inside her, and she finds herself in a state of partial detachment from the ongoing celebration.
Lando, sensing that Y/n was lost in thought, gently places his hand on her shoulder. This gesture snaps her back to reality, and she becomes aware of the room around her again. Seeing her jolt slightly, he gazes at her with a compassionate glance. "Hey, it's your turn to give a speech."
Her heart rate quickens as she realizes it's her turn to give the speech, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. She glances around the room, the weight of the moment settling heavily on her shoulders.
Y/n slowly walks up to the podium, her steps deliberate and measured. As she stands in front of the microphone, she can feel the eyes of gathered guests fixed on her, waiting for her words.
She stands behind the podium, taking a moment to collect herself before speaking. With a mixture of joy, love, and disbelief, she begins her speech.
She starts, "Good evening, everyone. For those who may not know me, I’m Y/n, the bride’s cousin, but truly, we’ve always been like sisters. Standing here today, I feel a flood of emotions - joy, love, and perhaps just a hint of disbelief that this day has finally come."
Y/n continues, "You see, when we were children, Lily and I would often engage in 'wedding' games. We'd don makeshift wedding veils made from pillowcases and fiercely argue over who would get to be the bride. It was a serious matter for us back then, and more often than not, we’d ultimately settle on her being the bride. According to her, she just 'looked more like one.' Well, Lily, I have to admit, you were absolutely right—because here you are today, looking stunning, more beautiful and radiant than I could have ever imagined."
Her voice is a mixture of warmth and sentimentality as she continues her speech. "It’s fascinating how childhood dreams have a way of becoming reality, and yet, it’s even more astonishing to witness how you’ve grown into the remarkable woman standing before us now. Over the years, I’ve watched you navigate the ups and downs of life with such grace, and today, as you marry Oscar, my heart swells with happiness for you both."
In the midst of her speech, Y/n’s eyes inadvertently meet Oscar’s, and a wave of emotions courses through her. The weight of the moment, combined with her feelings for Oscar, causes tears to well up in her eyes, making it increasingly difficult to continue speaking.
She pauses, attempting to blink back the tears that threaten to spill. Clearing her throat lightly, she tries to push through the momentary emotional wave that has struck her. The pain in her heart is evident, but she forces a smile, determined to complete her speech with a semblance of composure.
Taking a deep breath, Y/n collects herself and presses on with her speech, "While I’m brimming with joy for you both, I must admit I feel a tinge of bittersweetness, for today marks the beginning of a new chapter in your life — a chapter where you start your own family. But if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that no matter how life changes, no matter where you go, we’ll always be as close as we’ve been."
Y/n steals another quick glance in Oscar's direction before continuing. Her emotions are still close to the surface, but she plows on, speaking with a mixture of bittersweet happiness and nostalgia.
"You’re not just my cousin; you’re my sister, and this connection we share is something that will forever remain unchanged. So here’s to the both of you. May your love be as strong and lasting as our bond has been all these years. And Lily, if this day proves anything, it’s that you were always destined to be the bride." she says, wiping away her tears with a small handkerchief Lando handed her.
As Y/n completes her speech, her eyes inadvertently find their way back to Oscar. The gaze she gives him mirrors the one she had when they parted ways three years ago. The pain, the longing, and the unresolved emotions are all still there, making her next words more strained.
With her gaze still fixed on Oscar, Y/n struggles to keep her emotions in check as she continues her speech, her voice trembling slightly. Despite the ache in her heart, she forces a smile, her words now directed towards Oscar.
"And to Oscar, I hope you enjoy growing old with her as much as I enjoyed growing up with her." Each word feels like a dagger to her heart, but she finishes her speech, the pain in her eyes reflecting the depth of her unspoken feelings.
Y/n, fighting to maintain her composure, finally comes to the end of her speech. Her voice wavers slightly as she utters her final words. "A toast! To Lily and Oscar!"
Her words hang in the air, a bittersweet sentiment that lingers in the room. The guests raise their glasses in agreement, blissfully unaware of the turmoil within Y/n.
Lily, moved by Y/n's heartfelt speech, stands up and embraces her cousin in a tight hug. But while Lily basks in the moment, blissfully unaware of the pain her happiness is causing Y/n, the latter can only focus on Oscar, her eyes filling with tears as she gazes at him. The raw emotions bubbling beneath the surface seem to intensify, and it takes all her strength to hold back the floodgates.
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April 27, 2027 | After the Reception
The reception has come to an end, and the hotel lobby is relatively quiet at this late hour. Lando, getting ready to head out, spots Y/n standing in the corner, holding her crumpled gown in one hand and her phone in the other. He approaches her with a concerned expression.
"Hey," Lando says softly, standing beside Y/n. His voice is gentle, tinged with concern as he looks at her. "Are you alright? You seem a bit... off?"
Y/n glances up at Lando, her expression weary. The emotional toll of the evening is evident on her face. She forces a small smile, trying to appear okay. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she replies, her voice slightly strained. "Just a bit tired, you know."
Lando can sense that Y/n isn't being completely honest, but he doesn't press the issue. Instead, he offers her two options. "You sure you're okay? You can always crash at my place if you want," he suggests. "Or, if you're up for it, we could go for a drive. Whatever you prefer."
Y/n ponders for a moment, weighing her options. Finally, she decides to take Lando up on his offer for a drive.
"A drive sounds good," she says, her voice slightly weary but also filled with a hint of relief. "Lead the way."
With a nod, Lando leads the way towards his car, parked outside the hotel. He unlocks the door, takes her gown, and gestures for her to get in. Once they're both settled in the car, Lando starts the engine and begins driving.
The silent drive envelops them, its quietness only interrupted by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of passing cars. Both Lando and Y/n seem weary, the evening's events taking their toll on them.
Lando glances over at Y/n periodically, noting the fatigue etched on her face.
He drives them to an empty beach, where only the signs of life are a few stray cats and dogs sleeping beneath a nearby bridge. The beach is mostly deserted, and the soft sound of waves crashing against the shore adds a soothing atmosphere to the surroundings.
He parks the car and shuts off the engine, the sudden silence feeling both peaceful and surreal at the same time.
Lando gets out of the car and opens the trunk. He rummages through it, pulling out two bottles of beer. He closes the trunk and walks over to where Y/n is standing, holding the bottles in one hand.
"Wanna share a cold one?" he asks, offering her one of the bottles.
As Lando hands Y/n a bottle, she glances at him with a puzzled expression on her face, her confusion evident. "You just happen to have cold beer in your trunk?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
Lando laughs at her questions and explains, shrugging his shoulders. "Nah, I don't keep beers in my car!" he says, chuckling. "It was supposed to be for the wedding, in case we ran out. You know how weddings can be."
Y/n nods in agreement and requests a bottle opener. Lando pats his pockets, searching for one. After a moment, he pulls out a small, multi-purpose tool from his pocket that serves as a bottle opener.
"Can I?" he says, gesturing for her to hand him the beer.
Y/n thanks him and hands her bottle to him, waiting for to him to open his bottle. As he uses it to pop the lids off both bottles with a satisfying fizzing sound, she takes her bottle and watches the foam settle on the top of the liquid.
Lando closes the trunk and follows Y/n down to the sand. They walk down in silence, the soft sound of their footsteps blending with the gentle rhythmic crashing of the waves.
The cool night air wraps around them, offering a refreshing reprieve from the day’s festivities. The soft light of the stars and the moon casts a gentle glow over the beach, making the surrounding area appear almost magical.
As they reach a spot on the beach and sit down, Lando takes a sip of his beer and sets the bottle down in the sand. He glances over at Y/n, his expression curious. “Hey, can I ask you something?” he says.
Y/n looks up at Lando, her expression open. “Sure, what is it?” she responds, her curiosity piqued by his inquiry.
Lando takes another sip of his drink before continuing. “When we were standing there, right before you were supposed to give the speech, you started acting kinda strange. I’m just wondering… did something happen?”
He pauses for a moment, the memory of their walk down the aisle surfacing in his mind. His tone becomes concerned and inquisitive. “And when we were walking down the aisle, you seemed… I don’t know, kinda on edge too. Did something happen back there or…”
Y/n sighs heavily, knowing she can’t avoid the question any longer. She gazes out at the ocean, the weight of her emotions visible in her expression. “I guess you noticed that something was up after all,” she says, her voice tinged with a hint of regret. “It’s a long story, Lan.”
Lando looks at Y/n, giving her a reassuring smile. “You know what? We’ve got all the time in the world right now, it’s just you and me.” he says, his voice gentle and inviting. “And I’m all ears if you need to talk about whatever is bothering you.”
Y/n feels a mix of emotions, knowing that Lando is willing to listen to her and that she can finally open up about what’s been bothering her. She takes a deep breath, her voice slightly shaky as she begins to tell her story.
“Okay… So I guess I should start by telling you that Oscar is my ex-boyfriend.” She sighs, feeling the weight of her words settle over her.
As Y/n drops the revelation about Oscar being her ex, Lando’s response is somewhat unexpected— his beer goes up his nose, causing him to cough and splutter lightly. Y/n stifles a laugh, finding a brief moment of humor amidst the intensity of their conversation.
“Hey,” she giggles playfully, “you okay there?” Lando clears his throat, wiping away the remnants of his beer mishap.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughs, his eyes still watering slightly. “I just… did not expect that detail?”
They both laugh softly, and the moment of levity helps to alleviate some of the tension hanging in the air.
Y/n takes a deep breath, regaining her composure, and going on with her story. “Long story short, things didn’t end well between us… I guess seeing him again as the groom, all dressed up and looking ready to start a new chapter in his life, well, it just hit me pretty hard,” she confesses, the sadness and lingering pain evident in her voice.
Y/n takes a moment to gather her thoughts, summoning the courage to share the painful truth. “The main reason we ended things was because he wasn’t ready to settle down. He didn’t want what I want— commitment, a future together, you know? It hurt, but I had to respect his decision.” Her voice trails off, memories of their breakup flooding her mind, stinging her again.
The mention of Oscar’s reluctance to commit triggers a painful memory for Y/n, causing her eyes to cloud with a mix of sadness and longing. “And now, seeing stand there, so ready to marry someone else, with the biggest smile on his face… It’s like my hope of us being together has been shattered all over again.”
Her laughter is tinged with bitterness, the irony of the situation not lost on her. “To make matters worse, it just had to be my cousin, right? Like some sort of fucking soap opera. I mean, what are the odds of that?” Y/n muses, shaking her head slightly.
Seeing the sadness etched on Y/n’s face, Lando can’t help but feel empathy for her situation. He reaches out, gently placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, his touch conveying a silent understanding.
As Lando reaches out and touches her shoulder with a comforting gesture, Y/n feels a wave of gratitude towards him. She looks at him and forces a small smile, appreciating his support.
“Thank you, Lan,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… hard to see him so happy with someone else when I still have feelings for him- well, I thought I didn’t love him anymore, I thought I had moved on, but seeing him today… it just brought everything back.”
Hearing Y/n’s words, Lando clears his throat, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Y’know, Y/n, it’s completely understandable that you feel this way. Seeing an ex move on can be incredibly difficult, especially when you’re still clinging to those lingering feelings and hopes of what could have been.
He pauses, considering his words carefully. “Maybe it’s time for you to actually let go and move forward. Leave the past behind.”
In the midst of their conversation, a small tabby kitten suddenly appears and jumps into Y/n’s lap, surprising the both of them. The sudden appearance of the kitten seems to momentarily distract them from their heavy discussion.
“Whoa, where did you come from, little one?” Y/n exclaims with a surprised laugh, as she gently pets the kittens fur.
Lando chuckles and remarks, “Y’know, they say cats are surprisingly good at sensing emotions. It must have sensed your sadness, Y/n. They can absorb negative vibes like little fluffy energy absorbers.”
Y/n couldn’t help but smile at Lando’s explanation, the idea of the cat absorbing her sadness somehow comforting. “That makes sense, I guess. It’s kind of sweet, in a way,” she muses, continuing to pet the kitten which responds with a soft purr. “Maybe this kitty will absorb all of these painful emotions and turn them to into something positive.”
As if sensing the conversation, the kitten nuzzles against Y/n’s hand, it’s purring growing louder, sending gentle vibrations throughout her fingers. The warmth and innocence of the moment provide a brief respite from her emotional turmoil.
Y/n chuckles, but her laughter is tinged with bitterness. She looks down at the kitten in her lap. "I realized something earlier. I'm always be the bridesmaid, and never the bride. It’s like my destiny is to always be the supporting character in someone else’s love story, not the one who gets their own happy ending."
She sighs softly, a mixture of resignation and disappointment in her voice. “I never thought that I’d be that cliché— the forever bridesmaid, never finding true love. Yet here I am, witnessing it all unfold in front of me.”
Lando locks eyes with Y/n, his gaze sincere and filled with a hint of something more than just friendly concern. “Love has a mysterious way of hiding in the most unexpected places. Maybe… the person you’re looking for is right in front of you, and you just need to open your eyes to see it.”
His words hang in the air, leaving them both pondering the possibility of love closer than they think.
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