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#like i still forget this little bubble i have here is still a bubble
bulkhummus · 2 years
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i want people to look like people again
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oceanwithouthermoon · 2 months
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i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,
if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."
i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,
i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason
#crazy that the mindset some people on here have is that theyre the only ones allowed to post their opinions#ive repeated this a lot on this blog but i rlly think people forget that the person on the other side of the screen is in fact a person#if ur harassing people and publicly making fun of them then ur just as bad as any real life bully#that shit isnt as funny or harmless as u like to pretend it is#not once have i ever targetted anyone or went on someones blog to harass them over my opinion#yet people think its fine to do the same to me and treat it as if its like. revenge or something#like ? me saying 'i dont like toxic yaoi' is not equivalent to someone going on someone elses page and going 'how tf do u like toxic yaoi'#I DONT CARE !! all ive ever done is sit in my own little bubble and had opinions and that makes people mad#honestly though the people who will publicly talk and post abt it are significantly meaner#and i want to act like im not bothered by it because i know most of them r just angry that someone has a different opinion#and they want all their followers to bandwagon off of them (idk why maybe for validation or whatever-same reasons anyone would bully)#but seriously if u actually do think that something i said was out of line and crossed thise boundaries- just fucking tell me ?#im a person bro. ur solution to disagreeing with me shouldnt be 'lol im gonna post abt this and make everyone harass them'#have a conversation with me dude i dont bite ? if u cant talk to me like a person then just dont fucking say anything wtf#its so cowardly to be like 'well no i didnt wanna say anything to u cuz i didnt wanna be rude.. so instead i publicly made fun of u!'#LIKE WHATTTT STOPPPPP </3333#ok anyway this post wasnt supposed to get THAT serious.#MY POINT IS just be considerate of other people and dont base ur hatred off of assumptions#ur deflecting the blame onto someone else because u dont want to admit that ur just a fucking bully lol#being inconsiderate on here is something ive also been guilty of back when i first joined the fandom and was clueless#but grown ass adults who have been on here way longer r still doing that shit which is crazy#and i cant say anything because they have so much leverage over me and idk if its on purpose or if they dont even realize#ok im putting fandom tags cuz i want people to see this sorry. this is my one post thats actually targetted but its at a lot of people#so if u look at this and think 'hey i do that' pls evaluate urself<3#i mean its also targetted at everyone who does this anonomously so i dont know who it is OKOK IM DONE BYE SORRY HOPE THIS IS UNDERSTANDABLE#watch nobody read this fr#saiki k#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#meows post
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ja3yun · 3 months
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Push My Buttons | L.HS
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bodyguard!heeseung x rich girl!reader warnings: enemies to ???, angst, smut (mdni), car sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, choking, mentions of spit, possessive!hee, some violence, not proofread, anything else lmk! wc: 7.5k synopsis: lee heeseung has been hired as your personal security by your father. you and him don't see eye to eye, so when tensions rise at your best friends party, you both know how to push each others buttons. a/n: hi! this is a thank you for 1k! i still don't believe it if i'm honest because i don't think i deserve it but regardless, thank you all so much if you follow me! this is a little idea i had sitting on my laptop that i've decided to complete for this occasion so enjoy!
_____
Browsing through the racks of the Prada store, you can't help but feel acutely aware of the imposing presence of your hired security, stationed just two feet away.
"Do you have to stick to me like glue all the time?" you mutter, not bothering to meet his gaze.
“It’s my job, Y/N. You’d know what that was if you weren’t such a spoiled brat,” he spits back, his eyes rolling in exasperation.
Lee Heeseung was appointed by your father to ensure your safety during his frequent business trips. Unfortunately, your father's demanding role as CFO of a tech company keeps him away for extended periods. He doesn't trust you to fend for yourself, fearing that others might exploit you to reach him. Given your father's controversial reputation stemming from questionable business dealings, Heeseung's imposing presence is a constant fixture in your life.
Your bodyguard would be more tolerable if he weren't so insistent on being by your side every second. It's tiresome, really, how he clings to you like a shadow, never granting you a moment of solitude. If you go to the bathroom, he is right outside the door and if you dare try and sneak out the window - which you have tried numerous times - he is chasing you down the street, sweeping you off your feet and taking you home.
You had hoped that being only a couple of years older, he might adopt a more relaxed approach, letting you live your life a little, but you were wrong. Since the first day he turned up, he’s been nothing but a hoover, sucking the fun and freedom from your life all to keep you safe.
Sure, he probably knows deep down that he's a tad overbearing, but hey, he's clinging to this gig like a lifeline. Compared to his last job of being a bouncer at some dingy club, knocking back people with fake IDs and kicking out drunk people, your dad's cushy paycheck is like hitting the jackpot.
To Heeseung, you’re just some rich kid who has more money than sense, squandering it on everything and anything you deem a necessity at the time, only to then throw them away or forget about them. Considering he struggled to pay his rent before this job, he hates your whimsy ways with money. 
It's like you live in your own little bubble, completely disconnected from the real world. There are people out there starving and you’re buying thousands of pounds worth of clothes that you could easily get from a bargain bin for a fiver. 
Finally, you spare him a glance, “Just stand over there, okay? You really don’t have to be here and mess up my whole vibe,” you flail your arms around hoping the gestures will add some exclamation to your statement.
With a resigned sigh, he acquiesces, nodding, "In my line of sight at all times, got it?" He scans the area once more, on high alert for anything out of place, before reluctantly giving you some breathing room.
Heeseung blends in, looking through the obscenely expensive trousers which he is convinced he has seen the exact same jeans in thrift stores, just without the brand label. It’s a reminder of the contrast between you both; your lavish ways are still an alien concept to him.
He’s been in this role for 3 months and he won’t get over it, how different you both are. Your beliefs and traits are so starkly dissimilar that not once have you ever seen eye to eye. He doesn’t hate you, but he’s close to it. You always treat him with little to no respect and considering he’s only looking out for you per your daddy’s request, he would like to think you would be a little more grateful. 
Suddenly, his thoughts are interrupted by a lone figure approaching you, a slick smile playing on his lips. Heeseung’s jaw tightens as he analyses the scene in front of him, trying to speculate what the guy wanted, although Heeseung already knows his intentions.
You’re too busy trying to decide whether beige or cream looks better on you as you hold out two vest tops to notice the incoming man.
“I think you should go with that one,” the sudden boom of a voice beside you makes you jump and turn to him, clutching the clothes to your chest as you try to still your thumping heart, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, beautiful.”
Normally, you pay no mind to greasy men like him, but his cinched suit which was clearly tailor-made to fit and his sleek dyed brown hair was enough for you to give him a second glance. You can always spare some time for people who look good.
“Which one?” you ask, holding them back up at arm's length.
“The left one, I think you would look sexy in any of them, to be honest,” he smirks, thinking he’s being so smooth but you’re not really impressed by flattery. You know you look good, you see yourself in the mirror every day. Plus, he’s only trying to oil you up so he can either as you out or try and fuck you. The only one who genuinely gives you truthful advice or says you look good and mean it with no intention is Heeseung.
Your bodyguard is watching like a hawk, face steaming with anger as the guy puts his hand on your waist, holding one of the vest tops to your chest area. He’s already given the guy enough leeway by even letting him speak to you, but now he’s touching you, and Heeseung will be damned if he lets him get away with that.
With measured steps, Heeseung comes up behind you, licking his lips as hugs you from behind, “Baby girl, are you almost done?” he whispers loudly enough that the unwanted man in front of you can hear, “Who is this?” he asks, eyes now pointed forward.
The stranger's confidence falters under Heeseung's intense scrutiny, his eyes widening slightly as he realises the gravity of the situation. Heeseung's demeanour is unmistakably protective, his stance leaving no room for doubt about his intentions. His eyes are so dark that the boy knows that one wrong move will have Heeseung pouncing on him.
“I’m Woobin,” he says almost inaudibly. It’s amazing how quickly he resigned from his cocky attitude as soon as Heeseung made his presence known.
"Do you work here, Woobin?" Heeseung's voice is a low rumble against your ear, his lips trailing a path of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. His touch is electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as his hands caress your stomach, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns against the skin beneath your shirt
The butterflies in your tummy are fluttering around as if they’ve been disrupted from their nest by his touch. This is new, he hasn’t done this before, usually opting to just stand between you and potential danger. It's exhilarating and maddening all at once, the line between protection and possessiveness blurring in the heat of the moment.
Heeseung knows that if he simply said he was your security, it wouldn’t deter the man, he had to think on his feet. That and the way he touched you evoked something inside him, protectiveness laced with something else. 
“I don’t work here, I-”
“Then get your hands the fuck off my girl,” Heeseung interrupts Woobin, maintaining eye contact with him as he bites down a little on the nape of your neck, almost like he’s physically marking you as his own in front of a potential suitor.
Your head is in a frenzy, knowing that Heeseung is stepping far beyond his role of protection, yet, you don’t stop him. It would be lying to say that his lips didn’t feel good on your skin, the way his fingers lightly gripped the softness of your stomach gave you fanny flutters like nothing else; as he boldly stakes his claim, you can't help but feel a surge of desire mingling with frustration
But this is also the man that is currently cockblocking you right now, stopping you from getting Woobin’s number and potentially a good fuck that you’re clearly in desperate need of; why else would you be getting turned on by Heeseung right now? This is the man you cannot stand, he is the last person on earth you want to be with. 
Woobin awkwardly laughs and backs away, giving a slight wave to you as he walks out of the store, leaving you both in the thick silence.
As his form disappears into the distance, Heeseung stands by your side, his stare unflinching as he watches the threat go by, proud of himself for handling the situation quickly. Heeseung hasn’t let you go, his hands moving from your tummy to your waist, gripping it softly.
You don’t know what to do, still standing in a haze of shock and confusion, your eyes watching the back of Woobin with intensity. The man behind you didn’t even have to say much before Woobin was running with his tail between his legs.
Honestly, you know Heeseung can be intimidating, but this must have been a new level, even for him. You couldn’t see his eyes, yet, you know they held only room for intimidation.
Heeseung's attitude relaxes somewhat, but his protective stance remains firm. He slowly releases you from his grip, placing one last kiss on your neck for what reason he doesn’t know. 
You take a moment to compose yourself, internally dealing with the mixed feelings of the encounter before pure rage flushes over you, “What the fuck was that?” you seeth, twisting your body to face him.
“What was what?” he asks, unfazed by your angry demeanour. 
Slamming the vests back on the rack, you face him, your shorter stature suddenly being a hindrance as you try to act tough, “You know what! You just cockblocked me for no reason,” you ball your fists to the side of your hips, trying not to cause too much of a scene in the store. 
“Good. God knows what he had, he was a creep,” Heeseung’s face is stoic, not giving much of his emotions away which only serves to piss you off more. 
You wanted him to look a little bit sorry for overstepping, to say he was at least sympathetic towards your frustration. Instead, he just stands there, insulting the boy he didn’t even know.
Letting out a groan, you shut your eyes and unclench your hands, “I can’t ever have any fun with you around,” you try to calmly explain but as the words leave your lips, you begin to question why you’re trying to be civil in the first place. 
This man is the bain of your existence, the reason you haven’t had sex in months, he is utterly infuriating and here he stands in front of you with no remorse for ruining your life.
Heeseung nods, feigning understanding as he leans down to make eye contact with you, his nose almost touching yours, “I don’t know, baby girl, it seems like you were having a blast a second ago,” he says smugly, a half smirk creeping onto his face.
You beam red, embarrassment and anger mixing to create a shade of crimson you didn’t know you could make. He was frustrating, arrogant, irrational, rude, cocky, and overall just irritating. You hate Lee Heeseung.
Winking at you, he nudges his nose with yours before standing back up, his figure back to towering over you, “Pick the one on the right and let’s get a move on,” he says, tucking his hands into his pockets and taking one giant step back. 
It was like he was mocking you, giving you your space after infiltrating it as if he wasn’t leaving wet kisses on your neck five minutes ago. 
With a huff, you face the two vests once again, looking between both options, each one having its own backer. You bite your lip and contemplate over them, choosing the one on the right.
_____
As you apply your final coat of mascara, you take one long look in the mirror. You look great, everything about you falls into place perfectly, your hair and makeup only adding to your beauty while the dress you’re wearing hugs you nicely.
Obviously, you don’t tell Heeseung that you had a party tonight, knowing that he would lock you up like some Disney princess in your castle. If there was one thing Heeseung hated more than men coming into your zone, it was parties where tons of men could. 
The last party you went to was just before Heeseung arrived on the scene, the bodyguard now never letting you experience any joy or social gatherings that weren’t accompanied by him or a simple meet-up with friends. ‘There’s too much risk at a party’ he will always tell you.
A knock on your bedroom door almost makes you drop the mascara wand but you catch it before it causes disaster. 
“I’m coming in,” Heeseung’s voice travels through the door before he swings it open. His eyes trail over your body as he assesses the outfit, “A bit dressed up for a night in with me, no?” he tries to pass it off as a lighthearted joke but he knows he’s about to argue with you about your plans.
“Oh, y’know, just thought I would try and make an effort to sit in and watch Louder Milk for the nth time,” you roll your eyes, twisting the mascara shut and turning to face him.
Heeseung grumbles, “Let’s cut to the chase where you tell me where you plan on going and I obviously stop you,” he crosses his arms and tilts his head expectantly.
But you can’t let him win, not this time around. It’s your best friend’s birthday night out and if you miss it, you’ll never be invited to anything again; you can’t miss a 21st birthday party and expect there not to be consequences, especially not in your circle of friends.
You finish getting ready with a sense of purpose, carefully placing your lip oil and hairbrush into your YSL bag. "I've got plans," you announce, nonchalantly shrugging your shoulders.
His brows furrow slightly. "You never mentioned we had plans tonight," he remarks, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
"We don't have plans, Heeseung. I do. And you weren’t invited," you retort, your tone tinged with sarcasm as you shoot him a playful smirk.
He raises an eyebrow, trying to decipher your intentions. "A party? A date?" he ventures, scanning your attire and deducing that this isn't just a casual outing.
As you attempt to breeze past him, he swiftly moves to block the doorway with his arm, his muscles tensing as he grips the doorframe. You lock eyes with him, noticing the frustration brewing beneath the surface.
His jaw tightens as you stand your ground, a silent challenge passing between you, "Tell me where you're off to," he demands, his voice taking on a more authoritative tone.
You really need to get fucked because he’s suddenly turning you on, and his body starting to look like a jungle gym. Regardless of the fury and hatred for the boy in front of you, when he got angry, he was a new level of hot; it’s probably the reason you subconsciously push his buttons.
“I am going to Ryujin’s birthday party,” you confess, taking hold of his arm and trying to pry it from the wall, but he’s too strong and it doesn’t work. Even with all your efforts, it doesn’t budge.
Smiling at your feeble attempts to move him, Heeseung cockily leans on one foot, the other tucking behind his leg as he watches you struggle.
Undeterred, you try to slip under his arm, but he effortlessly scoops you up and returns you to your room, closing the door behind you with a practised ease. His years dealing with drunks at his previous job have endowed him with certain skills in handling runaways..
"Don't make this difficult, Y/N," he warns.
"You're the one being difficult! It's my best friend's birthday. Are you seriously telling me I can't go? I'm not in danger, you know," you retort angrily, frustration evident in your voice.
Heeseung understands that you're completely oblivious to the dangers lurking around your family, shielded by your innocent perspective. No one has bothered to inform you about your father's involvement in money laundering and his dealings with shady men. In your eyes, having a bodyguard feels like an unnecessary intrusion into your life rather than a protective measure.
"Listen, let's just imagine I let you go. Where is it?" he asks, a tinge of apprehension in his voice.
"Serenity," you reply, already sensing the tension building.
Heeseung's eyes widen in disbelief, "Serenity? The bar down by the loch? Are you serious?" he exclaims, his concern evident.
It was a losing battle the moment you opened your mouth. The bar isn’t known for its good reputation, it’s sleazy and grim, and despite its calm name, no one who occupies the bar could be considered peaceful.
Ryujin picked it simply because she likes to cosplay as a poor person sometimes, wondering what it would be like to live on the other side of wealth while obnoxiously spending a shit ton of money, completely rendering her ideas pointless.
You don’t agree with it but she is your best friend, the only person that gave you the time of day when you didn’t have a penny to your name all those years ago.
"I am not letting you step foot in that place," Heeseung asserts firmly, drawing a line in the sand.
“She hired out the whole bar, it’s not like anyone can just walk in,” you try to reason back but it doesn’t work as Heeseung’s resolve remains the same.
“You aren’t going, end of discussion. The whole neighbourhood is trouble and your friend is fucking stupid for this,” he scratches his jaw as the worst-case scenarios pop into his head. He might not like you but he really can’t stand some of the thoughts popping into his head, the urge to protect you growing stronger by the second.
The loch is a small part of town, mostly made up of deadbeats and criminals. Word spreads fast around there and there is a high chance the scums of the area know a bunch of snooty rich kids are going to be there for the picking.
You need to go, you can’t cancel any more plans so you need to think of something quick, “You can come with me,” you suggest, stepping closer to him. Would it be overbearing and annoying to have him there? Yes but at least you would be there. And it might actually be good if he was, after all, he is good at his job; you feel safe around him and the more he’s warning you away from Serenity and the loch, the more you’re starting to want his protection.
“I thought I wasn’t invited?” He raises his eyebrows sceptically.
Placing your hands on his chest, you trail them up to his shoulders, a pout forming on your lips. "Well, I'm inviting you now. Please, Heeseungie?" you implore, employing your best puppy-dog eyes and fluttering lashes in an attempt to sway him.
Typically, your pleading face doesn't work on him, but the combination of your hands massaging his tense shoulders and the endearing nickname starts to chip away at him.
"Fine. We can go for an hour or so, and then I'm taking you straight back home, understand?" he relents, already second-guessing his decision.
You squeal with joy, wrapping your arms around his neck and jumping up and down. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Finally, you've managed to reason with him.
Pushing you away gently, he clears his throat. "Be at the car in 10 minutes before I change my mind."
This is going to end disastrously.
_____
"Remember—"
"In your line of sight at all times," you finish, a hint of exasperation in your voice as you recite Heeseung's usual mantra.
Heeseung unbuckles his seatbelt with a grunt, his irritation clear as he mutters curses under his breath. He can't believe he's ended up in this mess, much less mocked by you. He is well aware that this is a recipe for disaster especially as he examines the area and notices gritty individuals prowling around the loch's borders, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Heeseung is confident in his ability to handle himself; it's your safety that concerns him the most as he observes a suspicious figure crossing in front of your car.
You waste no time darting out of the car and hurrying to the club's entrance, leaving Heeseung trailing behind, a gust of wind in your wake.
"This fucking girl," he grumbles to himself as he parks the car and follows after you. He sees through your tactic—trying to get inside before him so he'll be left waiting outside while you venture off on your own. But he's not falling for it today.
He catches up to you just as you're about to give your name to the bouncer, his arm instinctively settling around your waist. The bouncer eyes Heeseung with a sceptical gaze, taking note of his attire and demeanour, which hardly scream 'rich kid bellend.'
As Heeseung squeezes your side, you shoot him a playful smirk over your shoulder. "Oh, this is my boyfriend. He's just trying to get into character for the place—dirty-chic and all that," you quip sarcastically, gesturing between him and the bouncer.
The bouncer chuckles at your comment, nodding in amusement. "You've done a good job. I almost mistook you for one of those creeps by the water," he jests, stepping aside to let you both in.
Heeseung doesn't react to your teasing or the bouncer's remarks. He's grown accustomed to such comments after spending the past few months with you and your friends. From being called shabby to poor, to filthy to crude, he's heard it all. Sometimes you apologise for your friend's words, but he knows the damage is already done.
It’s times like that that he has some faith in you, that you aren’t all diamonds and gold, that you do have a heart underneath it all.
Sticking close to you, you both end up at the bar ordering a gin and tonic for you and a water for himself. He knows everything about you by now, the constant watchful eye on you has got him to learn your favourite everything, so he finds himself ordering for you more times than not. That is, when you let him be actively seen with you.
"Can you vanish over there while I find Ryujin?" you ask, already scanning the room for the birthday girl.
Nodding, Heeseung points towards a nearby wall. "I'll be over there. If anything happens, remember to stay where I can see you. Don't run off; I will find you. And if you're going to the bathroom, come and get me," he advises, his tone firm as he leans down to emphasize the importance of his instructions.
"Yeah, sure," you reply casually, already making your way over to your friends at the other end of the bar, their excited screams and squeals guiding your path.
True to his word, Heeseung gives you space but remains vigilant, never taking his eyes off you. He's pleasantly surprised when three hours pass, and you're only on your second drink. Normally, he's had to carry you out of brunch with your university friends, and that's not even bottomless. Part of him thinks you’re remaining sober for your own vigilance, which makes him happy that you aren’t so reckless to get drunk in an unfamiliar setting around a lot of people you don’t know.
As the night progresses, Heeseung's gaze remains fixed on you from his position against the wall. He observes the way you interact with your friends, the genuine joy evident in your laughter and the twinkle in your eyes. Seeing you light up like this is a rarity, but it warms something inside him to witness you truly enjoying yourself.
Despite his reservations and occasional frustrations, Heeseung takes his role of keeping you safe very seriously. The thought of anything happening to you weighs heavily on his mind, not just because of the potential consequences from your father, but because he has come to genuinely care about your well-being. It's a realisation that surprises even him, how much he's come to feel responsible for you beyond just fulfilling his duties as a bodyguard.
Day by day, Heeseung finds himself spending more time in your presence. Even when he should be stationed at the front door, he often finds himself drawn to your side, whether it's watching TV shows together or cooking dinner. Sure, these moments are often punctuated by arguments over his choice of shows or the random spices he adds to your meals, but they keep things interesting, injecting a sense of spontaneity into his otherwise regimented routine.
And truth be told, he finds a strange satisfaction in winding you up, relishing the sight of the vein in your forehead protruding whenever you're exasperated with him. Despite the occasional clashes, there's an undeniable chemistry between the two of you, a dynamic that keeps him on his toes and reminds him that guarding you isn't just a job - it's become a massive part of his life.
Recently, he has become extra protective over you, the incident at the Prada store being a prime example. Men like Woobin are not the ones he should be protecting you from, but he can’t help it, you’re too precious to be led off by the likes of him.
Shaking his head, he disregards his last thought. You’re not precious, you’re a princess, a snooty diva with an attitude problem.
This is what he has to tell himself every day.
He watches you go up to the bar and sit on the stool as you order another drink, but his attention shifts to a familiar face in the crowd. Woobin - and he is walking straight for you. Like he hasn’t dealt with him enough today, it was almost as if thinking about him that manifested him straight into your lap.
As Woobin twists the stool you're sitting on to face him, Heeseung's grip on the empty cup tightens, his knuckles turning white with the effort to maintain his composure. He knows he can't just stride over there like he did at the store; he crossed a line then, kissing your neck was too far, and biting down on you to mark you was too far. But the possessive feeling that had simmered earlier resurfaces as he watches Woobin casually tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.
His mind races with a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in check. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here. The real threat to you is outside, not in here.
But as he watches Woobin's hand graze your leg, Heeseung's resolve crumbles.
"Fuck this," he mutters under his breath, his anger boiling over as he pushes himself off the wall and throws his cup away. Without a second thought, he makes a beeline for you, determined to put an end to this unwanted intrusion.
You suddenly feel Heeseung's chest press against your back, his presence feels overpowering, his aura dark and intense. You glance at Woobin and notice the fear flicker back into his eyes, just like before, as Heeseung speaks with a menacing tone, "Have you got a death wish or something, mate?" His question hangs in the air, a clear warning.
Woobin takes a step back, but despite the quiver in his pupils, he refuses to back down. "She obviously isn't satisfied with you," he retorts, attempting to sound tough. "She hasn't even tried to bat me off."
You scrunch your face in disbelief at Woobin's audacity. His attempt to turn the situation on you is off-putting, and any attraction you may have felt towards him suddenly dissipates.
Heeseung's gaze shifts down to you, his eyes hooded as he leans in close. "Is that true, baby girl? Do I not satisfy you?" His words send a shiver down your spine, leaving you momentarily speechless. Before you can form a response, he leans even closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispers in your ear, "You better agree with me, or else I'll punch his lights out, right here, right now."
His threat hangs in the air, leaving you feeling torn between conflicting emotions. As you struggle to find the right words, Heeseung's lips graze the skin of your earlobe, sending a jolt of sensation through you. You're unsure whether he's doing this to turn your mind to mush so you can do nothing but agree with him or assert his dominance over Woobin, who watches with a flushed neck, clearly intimidated by Heeseung's display of possessiveness.
Nodding slowly, you side-eye Heeseung, “Y-you do,” you say quietly but as he bites down on your ear and you yelp, you speak up a bit more confidently, “You do satisfy me.”
“Good girl,” he whispers, placing one final kiss on your ear, “You heard her, so get the fuck away from her, or I will throw your body in the loch and no one will even care to look for you,” he challenges Woobin, threatening him like some gangster.
As Woobin backs up and mutters ‘This is not fucking worth it’, Heeseung smiles triumphantly, knowing he’s scared him off for good. Heeseung fixes your hair, gathering it all to sit nicely at the back, running his fingers through it as he silently warns any other men in the club that you’re no one but his.
You hate to admit it, but it turns you on a little.
But your responsible head twists back on and you understand what Heeseung has done again, “Heeseung,” you slap his chest and push him away, “Stop fucking babying me!” Standing up from the stool, you weave through the people at the club in search of the exit, Heeseung’s antics finally pushing you too far. 
"I am doing my job, Y/N," he shouts over the chatter and music, his voice barely audible amidst the din of the club.
"No, you aren't. That is not your job," you retort, your voice rising above the noise. "Pretending to be my boyfriend and scaring away potential fucks is not part of the remit!"
Your words hang in the air, heavy with frustration and disappointment. You push him away one more time, creating some distance between you before storming out of the club.
Fuming with anger and adrenaline, you make your way through the car park, your mind racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you resents Heeseung for his overbearing behaviour, but another part can't deny the thrill you felt with his protective display. It's infuriating to admit, but the feeling of his possessiveness is sending shivers straight down south, You hate that you're even thinking like this.
His touch on your ear and neck lingers in your mind, igniting a whirlwind of desire and confusion. You're not thinking straight anymore, and if Heeseung catches up to you, you're not sure how you'll react - whether it'll be pure anger or pure lust.
Either way, you need to get this steam out. 
“Y/N! Get back here right now!” he shouts, pushing past the men who are ogling your figure. 
As you hear his voice, something takes over you. You pull the first guy you see into a kiss, holding onto this jacket as your mouth moves against his.
Heeseung sees red, blood red as he watches you kiss the stranger. It’s reckless behaviour, your lips moving roughly against a guy probably twice your age but, of course, the guy doesn’t mind. He wraps his arms around you to bring you in closer. That gesture shakes Heeseung from his shock coma, his emotions fueling him.
But Heeseung can't stand idly by any longer. With a guttural growl, he yanks the man away from you, his anger propelling him into action. He delivers a punishing punch to the man's face, the force of it sending him crashing to the ground, sprawled across the gravel of the car park.
Heeseung doesn't stop there. He delivers a few more swift kicks to the man's prone form before turning his attention to you. Grabbing your arm with bruised hands, he hauls you towards the car, his grip tight and unforgiving.
"You're so fucking irresponsible," he seethes, his voice dripping with venom as he struggles to contain the storm of emotions raging inside him. The veins in his neck bulge with the intensity of his anger, his eyes flashing with a dangerous fire.
“Sorry if I want to have some fun,” you argue back, trying your hardest to release yourself from his firm hold.
As you both approach your car, he opens the door and shoves you in, “And kissing and fucking random guys is fun?” he slams the door behind you once he knows all your limbs are inside the vehicle.
Striding over to the driver's seat, he gets in quickly, locking the doors so you can’t make a quick escape. You don’t even attempt to try and flee, already knowing you’re only going to end up in a game of cat and mouse all night, and in this weather with your dress isn’t fun. 
“I’m 20 years old, nearly 21, I can fuck if I want to,” you shout back, slamming your hand on the backrest to hammer home your point. You are old enough and wise enough to make your own decisions, Heeseung is only there to make sure you don’t end up getting kidnapped or whatever it is your dad thinks will happen to you.
"It's not wanting to fuck that is my problem, it's who you want to fuck," he growls, his voice tinged with bitterness.
You want to slap him, angry that he doesn’t seem to get it, “I don’t get to fuck anyone thanks to you,” you retort back with venom laced in your voice.
His entire body turns to face you, his gaze piercing through you as he asks, "You want to get fucked?"
“Yes! Obviously!”
Heeseung lunges towards you, pressing his lips to yours in a matter of seconds to your answer. At first, you’re confused at what is happening, the unfamiliar feeling of his mouth melting into yours causes your head to thump.
But as he moves you to lay back, flicking the seat to recline all the way back, you find yourself chasing his body with yours, your lips like magnets as they draw themselves back to his. He tastes sweet, not like how you expected, you were presuming it’s the flavour of his vape he swears he doesn’t use.
Shuffling your way up the seat, you spread your legs so he can situate himself neatly in between you, knees resting against the edge of the seat for support, his hands roaming all over your body and his kisses never faltering. 
He was hungry for you, those tiny tastes of your neck served as appetisers before the main meal which was your mouth and tongue. Roughly, he brings one of his palms to cover your throat as squeezes, the consequential parting of your lips as you gasp gives him access to lick into your mouth. The grip on your throat is heavenly, just tight enough to make your brain go fuzzy but not to the point you think you’re in danger.
With a quick roll of his hips, you feel the outline of his cock being pushed onto your core, even through jeans he’s prominent, only building up your anticipation more. He does this a few times, each time the rough edges of his zipper rub your barely covered clit, eliciting a moan from you.
Heeseung's smirk widens at your response, his gaze flickering with desire as he watches the desperation in your eyes. Without hesitation, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeats his question, this time with less anger and more longing. "You want to get fucked?"
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, your desire for him burning hotter than ever before. "Yes, please, Heeseung," you whimper, using your hands to hold his hips against yours as you rut yourself desperately against him, humping his length through his jeans. 
Heeseung almost feels bad for you, clearly, he underestimated how much you needed to seek release. No wonder you were willing to entertain someone like Woobin. He had to make this worth the frustration he has been causing you.
The pressure of Heeseung's hand around your throat tightens, eliciting a gasp from your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, "You sure you want to fuck a guy like me?" he hisses, his voice tinged with both agitation and desire, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours.
Despite the lack of air, you manage to choke out your response, your voice laced with desperation, "Yes, Heeseung, I need you."
A smug smirk plays across Heeseung's lips at your admission, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Oh, I know you need me, Sweetheart," he replies, his tone dripping with confidence. "You're staining my jeans as we speak." His words send a shiver down your spine, a potent mixture of arousal and frustration coursing through you.
But then his question cuts through the haze of desire, forcing you to confront the reality of the situation, "I'm asking if you want to go back to little Woobin now?" he taunts, knowing full well the answer already. He just wants to hear you say it.
With a shake of your head, you release your hold on his hips and begin to unbutton his jeans, determination blazing in your eyes. "No," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. "No, I only want you."
“Thought so,” he kisses you again before releasing your throat, focusing his hand's attention on ridding you of your pants while you work to get his trousers out of the way. He tugs your underwear down, tossing them to his side of the car before lining himself up at your hole.
Wrapping your legs around his hips, you try to push him to slip into you, but he keeps his hips rigid, only making you look more desperate for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock, each time it slaps down, he echoes it with a tut.
“You don’t even know if I’ll fit,” his voice whispering in your ear as he licks the shell of it, “All those preppy rich boy cocks aren’t anything like mine,” he takes your wrist in his hand and guides you to feel his length as it sits neatly in your folds, “See?”
Whining, you pout, knowing he’s just teasing you for badness, “I promise I can handle it,” you say lowly, pumping his cock between your cunt and hand. The motion makes Heeseung hiss in pleasure, the feeling of his cock trapped only adding to his anticipation of being inside you.
He moves in for a chaste kiss on your lips, his touch soft despite the intense need between you, "I'll go slow," he tells you, his words a balm in the midst of the intense moment. Even in the heat of passion, Heeseung is driven by his instinct to protect you.
With one swift movement, he slides into your heat slowly, letting you stretch around him. Surprisingly to both of you, your pussy is accommodating him perfectly, the stretch a little painful but not unbearable. He shallowly moves his hips back and forth, watching his cock disappear into you further and further each time until he’s bottoming out and tapping your cervix lightly.
Heeseung isn't wrong when he tells you that no other cock you've had can compare to his. Every curve and ridge of his dick seems perfectly designed to hit every sweet spot inside you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. It's an otherworldly sensation, the way he gains traction with each movement, his confidence growing as he senses your comfort and willingness to take more.
"You're so tight, baby girl," he murmurs between kisses.
Lost in the throes of passion, you cling to Heeseung, your bodies moving in perfect synchronisation as you lose yourself in the sensation of him filling you completely. Each thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that burns hotter with each passing moment.
Heeseung's hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matches your own. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they trace the contours of your skin. The pads of his fingers roughly grab your tit that’s managed to escape your dress, twisting your nipple between his finger and thumb.
Your hands are in a similar position, running along his toned stomach under his shirt, trying to commit it to memory, just in case you never get to do this again. You wish this was happening with zero clothes in the way but the desperation between you both got in the way. 
As the intensity of your desire builds, Heeseung's movements become more urgent, his thrusts growing deeper and more powerful with each passing moment. You can feel the tension coiling within you, the promise of release looming on the horizon like a distant storm.
“You’re squeezing me so tight, Y/N. I won’t last much longer,” he admits, knowing that he’s close to the edge himself.
“Need it, I need you to cum,” you moan loudly, your hand leaving his skin to find your clit, rubbing it vigorously as you try and speed along your orgasm.
Your words drive Heeseung to pound into you faster, willing both of you to come undone together. The car shakes as you both speed up your movements, your hips trying to match his rhythm to create a deeper impact with each buck of his hips.
With a final, desperate thrust, Heeseung drives you both over the edge, sending you spiralling into ecstasy. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under him, the ropes of his cum coating your heat. 
“Oh, fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his cock swell and throb inside of you, “Cum with me, Y/N. Please.”
Circling your arms around his shoulders, you hug him close to you as his body shivers, still reeling from the aftermath of his climax. You lay like that for a few minutes, processing everything that just transpired between you both.
“Are you okay?” he asks, holding himself up to face you, one hand wiping your sweaty bangs from your forehead.
Nodding, you shut your eyes, massaging his shoulders lightly as you let bliss take over you, “I feel great,” you smile.
Heeseung grabs your pants from the driver seat and bundles them up, using them as a makeshift cloth to clean you up, spitting on them before running them along your swollen cunt, “We can’t do this ever again,” he says quietly, his breathing starting to regulate again.
“What do you mean?” you lean on your elbows, looking up at him with confusion, “Was it not okay?”
Of course, it was okay, Heeseung thinks your pussy might be the best he’s ever had, but it’s not logical to try and keep this fantasy alive. You were too different, this encounter was fueled by anger and rage between you both, hardly the start of a picture-perfect relationship.
He discards your underwear and pulls his own bottoms up, tucking his softening cock into his boxers and jeans, “It was great, but I’m supposed to protect you, not fuck you,” he says, shuffling back into his seat, starting the car.
“We’ll use protection next time,” you shrug, fixing your seat to sit upright, “It’s no big deal.”
Heeseung sighs, his frustration evident as he starts the car and pulls out onto the road. "You know that's not what I mean, Y/N," he replies, his voice tinged with resignation.
The rest of the drive home is filled with silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. Heeseung's thoughts swirl with the fear of losing his job, the guilt of failing to protect you, and the sudden need to be inside you all the time.
“We forget about this, okay?” he asks, eyes flickering to you.
You nod in agreement, but a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips, betraying your true thoughts. Deep down, you know that you won’t forget about it, and this will certainly not be the last time you find yourself fucking Lee Heeseung - You'll make sure of it.
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frmisnow · 4 months
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✧˖ ?!— THE ASSHOLE THAT MIGHT MAKE YOU FORGIVE & FORGET. - (NSFW.)
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— ‧₊˚ — 🍸: "wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you ??"
summary. despite your best efforts at avoiding your much-hated hookup boxer, he somehow finds a way to your apartment claiming he's here for your own good benefit, being a total ass- does he even have the ability to change? well, he's determinded to make you forgive & forget... in his own unique ways!
notes. haven't written full blown smut in quite a while aaahhhh also my longest fic up to date??? - this is part two of TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS but can be read on it's own.
warnings/includes. (MDNI!!) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, they still kinda hate eachother sry (tiny bit of character development in the middle tho), elements of angst, making out, he's a bit of a dick :/, reader is kind of a therapist (pls don't go around in real life trying to fix ppl!!), tit/nipple play, riding, kook sub tendency towards the end, unprotected sex (she's on the pill tho), not proofread :/
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you starred blankly at the text bubble he sent you a minute ago, hell- it was 2 am- you blinked repeatedly, reading it once more:
unknown number (jeon ) : i'm outside your apartment
you've done your absolute best avoiding him at all costs, you couldn't no- you shouldn't at all, never ever form a connection with him and though you'd usually be okay with having a little fling, you didn't want to be associated with him nor did you want to see his face. it was a hate fuck, nothing more, nothing less - but he always knew just how to ruin your plans.
you looked outside the window, actually sighting a figure, a motorcycle close to them as the person lifted it's head shortly from their phone, you quickly typed in a response.
y/n ( reader ) : how do you know my number, how do you know my adress and what makes you think i'll open the door unknown number (jeon ) : i'm cold
the simplicity of the incoming answer, made you roll your eyes, opening the window instantly after reading yelling out to the person: "i'll call the police for stalking"
he instantly yells back, "you don't actually have any intentions of calling the police. you want to see me" with every word stepping a bit closer to your apartment, now practically being next to your door.
"ha," you let out till full blown starting to laugh, "i wanna see you?" the smile from the laugh still plastered of your face, "you really think so?"
"oh i'm sure of it, what else is there to do on a saturday night? i just know you've been thinking bout my big dick all day, i know it makes you sick- but y'know what? i'm here to fix it for you" he looks up to you while delivering his dialogue in a sarcastic tone like he's the savior of the world, his smirk coming back once more.
you skipped down the stairs, opening the door just a few centimeters, enough to see your face, not enough to completly look into your apartment, answering him back now face to face, giving him a rather unimpressed look: "right, you showed up but somehow u're still blabbering 'bout me wanting you here, but whatever go on- tell me i'm the needy cockslut who wants you right now"
his hands reach out to presumably touch your tits as you make the split of the open door a little smaller so his hands won't fit through while he makes a tiny sound of disapproval in the mean time almost like a 'tsk tsk' until he starts talking again:
"you're standing here in your pjs at 2am opening up your door for no other then me and that says just enough"
you stand there silent for just a few seconds till bouncing back on his answer, "don't get it twisted, i wanted to see what you have to say for yourself-"
his smug little smirk on his face grows bigger as you speak, his words dripping with sarcasm as if you're playing right into his hands "oh so you are interested in what i have to say?"
"very much so but so far you've been talking a lot of shit which doesn't necessarly surprise me either"
jungkooks grin still remains maybe even gets bigger, his voice dripping of sarcasm, "oh c'mon you love anything that has a dick for you to suck on, you're not big on words"
you open the door a bit more further, sighing like you're tired: "well quite frankly i don't feel like having your dick in my mouth"
he runs his hands through his hair, few seconds of silence passing when he finally responds now a little more serious: "are you really gonna act like you didn't enjoy the last time we're together?"
you gulp, for the first time avoiding eye contact: "well not everything revolves around sex"
"ah well isn't that cute, trying to play innocent?" his smile suddenly disappears, his brow furrowing as he gives you a serious look, "look at me. right on the eyes"
you look him in the eyes again, voice getting just a bit louder: "you don't get it, you see any pussy and jump straight onto it then leave which would be fine- but i don't want us to be fuck buddies, i don't want us being awkward at work, i don't want to form an attraction beyond sex to you in any way and i won't even risk it- and you? you don't even think about anything, you just think with your dick"
his eyebrow raises as he lets out a chuckle and rolls his eyes, "yeah, yeah i guess i am quite a shitty guy for not wanting anything more than just to dick you down for all eternity"
you rest your head on the wall next to the door in frustration, making a sound close to a sigh again: "you'll leave me in a week, i'll get attached, you'll make fun of me- i don't want that" surprisingly honest and serious.
he stares at you for few seconds longer, you're not making eye contact anymore, still pressed on the wall your head facing downwards. he sighs and his eyes close as he takes a deep breath as if preparing himself for what he's about to say: "you really think that little of me huh?"
you respond calmly though still avoiding his eyes, admitting in all honesty: "you've given me no reason to think more of you"
and for the first time since you've ever seen him, you see jungkook generally hurt, his eyes not settling as he begins to slowly nod like he understood, taking a step back from the door, "i'll leave you alone"
you watch him take a few steps- but you just can't do this. he was right, for the first time in everything he has said so far- he was right: you wanted him. you didn't know if you wanted him beyond sex but you weren't gonna figure this out right now either so you made the spontanous gut decision, you swiftly walked behind him- grabbing his arm, stopping him.
"you can call me a dumb whore- but i've changed my decision, i don't want you to leave"
you can almost see his brain working your words out one by one till he returns to good old self, voice thick of sarcasm, a sly grin making it's way onto his face once more "oh and why's that?"
"can you shut up?"
it's a messy kiss. desperate, longing, needing - telling. his hands not settling, moving all across your body, squeezing and kneading wherever they can in a matter of time you both stumble back into your apartment, lips not breaking apart not even once even as he closes the front door with his foot, deepening the kiss mean while.
you get pushed back onto the couch, your lips still locked together as his hands move under your clothes, taking off each item of your clothing at lightning speed, like he's trying to tear them all apart.
you break away in the mean time to breathe as you basically pant, taking the short time to look down onto yourself, practically naked then look at him who still had way to many clothes on for your liking, "not fair" your words barerly good said as he basically swallowed them by kissing you once more.
he shifts his position again, wrapping his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap, groaning into the kiss, trying his best to combine keeping you in place with one hand and cupping your face rather violently with the other.
"please," you pull his pants just a bit to get your point across, "not fair" repeating what you already said like a broken toy in addition you pouted which y'know gets u sympathy points usually, you wanted to feel him- it was only fair.
"oh look who's upset?" a grin splarred over his face, tone mocking maybe even belittling, "you'll have to earn it" running his fingers through one of your hair strands till his gaze returns to your eyes.
"i thought we were over this," you whined till throwing your head back in frustration, "please, i was so nice"
"nice? you called me a shitty guy, thought little of me and basically called me a womanizer among other things." he puts both of his hands on your knees and spreads your legs apart more so you sit wider on him, "and you really think that 'pretty pretty please' is gonna be enough?"
no matter how good he was of a fucker, you weren't just gonna throw away your morals for him completly so you bluntly responded: "the fact that i'm even on your lap right now after some of the shit you said is pretty damn nice of me"
"fair point" he admits and his hands wander up your body once more, tracing each and every curve of your body, holding you down tightly to stop you from moving "you're not a nice girl. you know what you are?"
you responded instantly before he could say anything, putting a finger on his mouth to pervent more bullshit coming from that pretty mouth of his: "don't call me a whore, i won't tolerate slut shaming anymore when you're just as much of one as me, if not more"
he squeezed your thighs during your little speach, acting like a brat who doesn't give two shits about whatever you're saying, "you know i love it when you try to play this 'respect me' act, acting like you really are not some little whore that just wants to get pounded into a matress till she can't take it anymore"
you rolled your eyes immediately, taking in a deep breath: "everytime i have the feeling like i'm getting somewhere with you, i'm talking you developing your brain from teenage boy age 13 to 14, you piss me of even more- god i fucking hate you"
he leans forward, his body even closer to yours, a cruel smile crossing his face, "oh i love the way you get angry" his hot breath hitting your face and his eyes locked into yours, "it makes you look so helpless"
you get closer to his face, now inches apart to make sure the next few sentences really get to him: "i just want you to know that whatever you'll think after this whole thing, i want you to know that you didn't magically pull me in, i'm not helpless neither are you the only person with good dick in this shitplace, you're an avaible option that can be replaced at any given moment, you are a whore that goes around and gets used, no matter how much you hate that fact or not, it's the damn truth, so start being a fucking man and accept it, suck it up" you say something he'd say to you, a taste of his own medicine if you will.
you see it on his face that you've managed to finally get to him, like he's actually taken aback by something for once. your words seemed to cut him deeply and he just stares at you, his breath shaky and his eyes big, wide doed like you've never seen before.
"okay," you take his hands away from your thighs locking them with yours, face still close to his, holding eye contact, "it's okay, it's okay to have sex, it's okay to want to live a free live but you have to communicate that and stop being a prick, stop using girls, stop blowing your ego up and then maybe we could have something" you whisper it as calmly as she can, squeezing his hands every once in a while like you actually want to help him.
he looked onto the both hands locked together till squeezing your hand back, his voice trembling as he tries to remain calm when speaking, "why are you still being so nice to me?"
"you know you do this thing where i look at you and you say something so good, so rational and it happens every once in a while where i think to myself- this is why i can't leave our whole thing alone cause somewhere just somewhere there still is that one valueable dude, it's just-" you sigh, till burrying your head on his shoulder in frustration, "i'm so stupid, i feel like i'll always come back to you, i don't know if that's good"
he almost automatically wraps his arms around your figure and now is the time where you actually do feel helpless in his arms, god- you were so stupid.
he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in, he didn't want to feel this vulnerable around you- it almost hurt to let his emotions show "oh c'mon- don't say that, please" his voice is shaky and his words carry a clear feeling of hurt.
"i always used to say that i don't believe that people can change, it's funny how you try to make excuses and loopholes for your morals when you actually experience something on your own," you straighten up your posture, removing your head from his shoulder, avoiding his eyes while trying to gather your thoughts.
his voice still carries the same shaky emotion as he speaks "why are you avoiding eye contact?" he burries his head against your chest, rubbing against it like trying to make you look at him, softly beginning to lick the skin.
the more he nibbles and licks on your skin, the more little mumbles against the skin are hearable, "i'll make you forgive me" or "i'll make you forget" - it's like a trance.
his tongue getting to your tits, "look at me, please" he pleads like not having your attention on him even for just a few seconds is a crime sentence - at the same time wrapping his lips around one of your hardened nipples, sucking with just as much passion.
he leaves thick traces of saliva on both ones, an occasional muffeled moan slipping out, "could do this forever, i could die happy with one of- mmh" giving both of them his full diverted attention like he had to make sure the other one doesn't feel left out.
when his head comes up from your chest, his eyes are half-lidded, hair is all over the place, a little bit of saliva in the corner of his mouth yet he instantly cups your face kissing you again and again.
everytime he breaks away just shortly to breathe he whispers something into the air then immediately kisses you, swallowing the words like they were dangerous to fly around unanswered.
"wanna do this forever, have you on my tongue over and over again till my tongue goes numb, till i can't taste or feel anymore"
"wanna have you in every position you can think of, wanna fuck you so much your body only remembers me, my shape, my dick- everything, only me"
"wanna make you hate being touched by anybody else but me, i'll be so selfish with you"
dangerous words.
dangerous words that feel a bit to real.
it's so evident he has long lost any control over himself, those eyes still so doed like he's begging you to give in, fully drop your boundaries, to give into his fantasies. eyes locking with yours to speak up just once more like he's admitting something, voice more quiet:
"fuck it, i'm already way to selfish with you"
your hands find the zipper of his pants right before opening, pausing to say something yourself, "i'm selfish too, i choose what i want in the moment instead of what would be better for me in the longterm" you pressed your lips onto his almost to shut down your own thoughts, the important ones, the conscious ones that were barerly left till breaking off again, "i don't care, not right now"
you can already feel his hard cock rub against your panties through the jeans material, "i'm so hard it hurts" he looked at you so pleadingly like you were the doctor with the medicine to safe his life, like this was a do or die situation, a tiny cheeky pout on his face, "can you fix me?"
you didn't know if he was talking about himself as a whole or his cock but regardless you took his hands in order for him to stand up so it would be easier to remove his pants and boxers doing it all in one swift motion.
making him sit down onto the coach once again, he whined at the feeling of cold air on his bare skin and you not immediately sitting down onto him, you strip down your pretty ruined panties, his eye not knowing where to look as he played with his lip ring, tilting his head like he's tryna get a better view.
his hands reach out practically on their own, yearning to get his hands onto anything yours, "sit down, ride me" jungkooks tone shaky yet he tried his best to hide that (not rly working) as he added a tiny quiet "please" at the end of it, barerly audible to the average ear.
you couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that he was behaving like a child (nothing unusual) but the laugh got cut of by a moan as your pussy practically swallowed his length, his hands instantly quite harshly going to your hips, leading you- maybe even guiding.
"fuck yea-" his voice so awfully strained as his both of your hips moved in sync, his fingernails digging into your soft skin, making you groan.
"missed this pussy so much," he moaned out, throwing his head back onto the coach headboard till he weakly added: "so obssesed with you, i've been wanting this tight- mmh, fuck- ever since-"
he couldn't finish his sentence neither did he look like he could form any coherient thoughts, face scrunched up in pleasure, a bit of sweat on his forehead- and you probably didn't look any better yourself.
your walls clenched around him out of sheer response, you were so wrong- this was such bad decision, it would be so hard to let him go after this, it would-
"gonna cum, fuck- i can't"
his pressed out words cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife, the skin slapping noises suddenly feeling louder then they had been before, your own pussy clenching around him once again.
"can't hold it back, i don-"
he was going to leave marks on your hips for sure, you bet he didn't even realize how hard he had been squeezing the poor skin, occasionally moving to your ass.
you moaned yourself, feeling your own orgasm approaching, jungkooks eyes closed, lips parting slightly like he's on the top stage of ecstasy somewhere over the rainbow as you could feel your own walls getting coated with cum.
your body instantly went weak after, lightly collpasing onto his chest as though he seemed unusually tired he wrapped his arms around your back, stroking the skin and bone structure slowly.
it felt so comforting even your eyes closed, you felt so tired- what time was it again?
"fuck- i forgot the condom" his fingers paused, the shook in his voice audible.
"i'm on the pill, we're good" you closed your eyes again, now the clear goal was to fall asleep.
yet y'know how it was with your plans and jungkook- he cut through them as he lied still for a few minutes till whispering, "i don't hate you by the way" his fingers now again continuing the gentle act on your back even slower then before like a quit lullaby, "not even one bit"
"i know"
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mirohlayo · 3 months
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YOU STOLE IT
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( what happens when lando reunites with the girl who stole his first kiss ? )
warning : a bit of jealousy, fluff, lot of fluff
note : i love this okay. i won't write a part 2 so no requests please !!
word count : 4.9k
Lando hasn't always been very lucky in love. While he separated from a failed romantic relationship, he now finds himself alone, surrounded by his friends who are experiencing their perfect love, alongside their soulmates.
This doesn't bother him that much, since he himself admitted preferring to concentrate on his sporting career and thus become one of the best F1 drivers. No girlfriend yet.
But when he has to endure all day long the sweet words that other drivers address to their lovers, when he himself can feel love in the air, it becomes difficult not to think about starting a new chapter, this time here happy and healthy. A chapter that will fill him with happiness, as he has never been before.
Is this decision of not having enough time to find a girlfriend in order to concentrate on sport actually an excuse to hide the pain and despair that is gradually beginning to nestle in his heart?
He tries as best he can to reassure himself, to convince himself that he doesn't need this feeling of being completely in love and devoted to a girl. But when he continues to be the third wheel among the couples his friends form, he comes to desire a relationship more than anything else.
And every time, he can't help but think of this girl. This pretty girl he met during his summer vacation when he was 16. She was divinely beautiful, her shy but bubbly personality made Lando's heart capsize in a unique way, his whole being was alarmed just by hearing her name.
They both had a wonderful vacation, just the two of them together. During these two summer months, they did not let go of each other, spending every day alongside each other. They had become so close and complicit that they proclaimed themselves best friends from their first meeting during a kart race where Lando was racing for his life.
And since that day, they both developed deep feelings for each other. At first it was innocent. And it still is, in fact. They just thought it was a deep friendly connection, that they were just friendly soulmates. That those little stolen smiles and tactile touches were just childish, and just affectionate.
But it turned out that his feelings were ultimately more than that. More than just a friendly relationship. Lando found himself falling in love with you so hard, so passionately that he regretted not asking for your number when you two suddenly said goodbye.
You were his first love. And you still are. He thought that with time, you would eventually slip out of his head, that he would eventually forget you and move on, that it was just a big embarrassing crush from his youth but that he wouldn't think about it anymore growing up.
But that is absolutely not the case. He hasn't stopped thinking about you for 8 years. Every day, even before going to sleep, the only person he thinks about is you, that little girl he was madly in love with before.
He knows it, he maybe denies it a little, but deep down he realizes that he still has feelings for you. Perhaps less intense, less ardent, but there is no doubt that his romantic feelings will double in strength if he meets you again one day.
Of course, the old relationships, flirts, that he had before were sincere and true. He liked these few girls, that he was even happy in his last relationship. But for all that, it was by stopping this relationship and these flirts that he realized that everything brought him back to you. No matter what girl he meets, the only one who will forever remain deeply anchored in his heart is you.
He knows now that you two were more than friendly soulmates. Well, at least from his point of view. He was absolutely unsure about your feelings, which is why during these summer vacations, he preferred not to tell you anything for fear of destroying such a pure and important friendship in his eyes.
But again, he finds himself thinking about you, about how everything would be different with you. It was by going through all these different relationships with girls that he understood that he had never felt anything as powerful as with you. All these girls don't give him even a quarter of what he felt for you back then. So, how will this feeling change when he has the opportunity to meet you again?
The warm air of Saudi Arabia blows gently through the driver's curly hair. Free practice will begin in a few hours now, so Lando is using this time cooped up in the garage, surrounded by his teammate and his racing team, to discuss about the car.
“Hello Oscar!!” Lando's teammate is welcomed by his girlfriend, Lily, who smiles lovingly at him. The interview with the team is over, and she took the opportunity to spend some time with her boyfriend Oscar. The second driver comes to wrap his arms around his lover, before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Lando scoffs and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. “Can you do this in private please? In addition to be the third wheel, I have nausea coming on.”
Oscar mocks his teammate, still holding Lily tightly in his arms. “Mate, it’s not my fault you’re a failure in love.” The Brit stops himself from hitting him, before putting on his McLaren cap. “Need I remind you that I’ve been in a relationship before?” He says to him with a completely proud look. “Couple who ended up in a failure, by the way.” He remarks, pointing at him.
“I really loved her…” The curly pauses. “It’s just that there is someone who- no, nothing, forget what I've said” He grumbles and withdraws into himself. Oscar frowns, Lily now concerned about the situation. “What?” She questions him gently.
Lando refuses to face this situation and simply shrugs his shoulders and ends up running away to join Zack further away. He can't say more, he can't talk about this girl who obsesses him. The two lovers look at each other confused by the British's behavior.
Zack smiled as he saw Lando walking towards him. “Are you already tired of feeling love in the air?” He says in order to tease him, which works. “Stop with that, I don’t care if I’m in a relationship or not.” What a lie. Zack knows his driver is lying, but he doesn't bother him more than that, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.
“So, how are things going at Ferrari?” Lando asks to quickly change the subject, not wanting to face another charade about his catastrophic dating situation. The two men then turn towards the Ferrari garage, where they can see the two drivers and the mechanics. "They look like they have a really good car, that's all I can tell you. But that doesn't mean-"
But it's too late, the British Mclaren driver no longer listens to his boss. As the Ferrari mechanics and strategists set to work, he saw among this small crowd Charles alongside a girl. At first glance, he thought it was his girlfriend. But upon closer observation, the woman, who is facing away, has a little shorter hair and is smaller in stature. And her hair color reminds him of her.
The girl he's been hopelessly in love with for 8 years now. But it can't be real, right? Why would you be here at the free practice sessions, and even more so accompanied by Charles Leclerc? His eyes must surely be hallucinating. But that silhouette from behind reminds him so much of you. But he tries to reassure himself. Or rather convince himself that there are so many brown girls in the paddock that he has confused you with someone else.
“Are you still listening to me or not?” Zack's serious voice rang in his ears. "Uh, yeah, sorry..." "You must need some time alone, I think" A mocking but concerned smile takes its place on Zack's face. “Yes, I think I need a little rest, excuse me” Lando smiles at him with difficulty before his boss goes further away.
The driver takes a deep breath. He can't help but look away at Charles and that girl. The more he looks, the more he feels like he's going back 8 years and seeing the girl he loves in front of him. He needs to know. He needs to be reassured and to be sure if this girl is really you.
And as if fate had heard it, the woman disappears from the garage, and seems to be heading to the paddock. So the British guy doesn't miss this chance and almost runs behind her to follow her. A few people give him confused and questioning looks, but he continues to pursue this dark-haired woman who hypnotizes him.
As he gets closer to you, his heart beats harder and harder. He feels like he's going to burst out of his chest and this feeling of stress eating away at him makes him want to vomit. Because he is realizing that he may have found his first love again. His eternal childhood crush.
That all those nights lost looking for you on social medias, trying to find your account and reconnect with you may not have been in vain. That all those nights lost thinking about you for a long time before falling asleep may not have been wasted in vain. That all these memories of you that he replays in his head finally make sense.
So, he goes for it without a second’s hesitation. "Excuse me ?" He speaks a little hesitantly, afraid of ending up with a woman who doesn't know him. But when the girl turns around, her brown hair flowing in the air, her eyes meeting his, Lando's heart skips several beats.
He finally found you.
The look of shock and surprise on your face mirrors Lando’s perfectly. Neither of you knows how to react, so you stay stuck like this for what seems like an eternity. But it is during this moment that the air suddenly seems changed. As if a connection, which once existed, was finally present again. As if an invisible link had finally reconnected between you, and united you for eternity. This change in atmosphere makes Lando's heart beat a little harder.
It seems unreal. So unreal that he thinks he's dreaming for a moment. For years, he never stopped thinking about you. To wonder what had become of you, what you looked like. And here you are now in front of him, more radiant than ever. This supernatural trance finally breaks when you decide to speak.
"Lando?!...Lando!!" You can't help but smile with all your teeth, a smile so sincere and strong. And oh God he suffered so much for the last eight years without being able to admire your magnificent smile. He adores it so much that he dreams of framing it in his memory forever. He knows how weak he becomes every time he gets the chance to admire your smile.
He can't help the big smile that comes over him as well. He feels so many emotions inside him that he feels like he's going to explode with happiness. "Y/n! Oh it's really you, I can't believe it!!" He can't even hide his joy and excitement, which makes you smile more, although it already seems impossible considering your cheeks already tired from just smiling.
“Me either, I feel like I’m in a dream” You admit, still a little surprised. “I didn’t think you were going to recognize me to be honest” You tell him, trying to contain your bomb of joy. “How could I not recognize you, when you are literally the most precious person to me?”
This simple sentence makes you blush violently, as you try to hide your embarrassment. “Uh- well it’s been 8 years since we last saw each other, so I doubt I’m still your favorite person” You laugh sweetly, and the sweet sound melts his heart. “So don’t doubt anymore, because you really are y/n” He addresses these few words to you while looking into yours.
And that's when he realizes how much you've changed. But changed in an incredibly beautiful way. You have kept this divine beauty which never fails to take his breath away. Your sweet facial features, that beautiful smile that he can't help but be obsessed with, and just simply your face that he could gaze at for hours and hours without ever getting tired of it.
You were already very beautiful when you were younger, when you were teenagers. But now you are infinitely more magnificent and resplendent. You look much more mature, and much more feminine. He has the impression of seeing an angel, a goddess before him. And that too has not changed, you remain for him the most beautiful woman he has ever met in his entire life.
The same goes for you. He's grown up so much, he's no longer the immature but adorable little Lando you loved so much before. Now he's a real man. He is more muscular, more virile but above all he has retained this eternal beauty and attractiveness. His beard makes him look a lot older too.
And then his hair. You teased him back then because he had trouble combing his hair. But these beautiful silky and shiny curls make you want and want to play with them, to caress them until they are messy enough for you to style them again.
“I see that my karting races have brought you to the wonderful world of Formula 1” The driver then says in order to hide the fact that he has been gazing at you for a few minutes now. You chuckle, before nodding. “Yeah, it must be said that a certain Lando Norris passed on his passion for motorsport to me” He lets out a little embarrassed laugh before turning his attention back to you.
"But Lando Norris was replaced by his opponent apparently. Bad luck." Lando's eyes land on the monegasque Ferrari driver who joins the conversation, right next to you. His tone turns colder as he stares at Charles. He can't help but feel a pang - or rather a big pang - of jealousy at the idea that you potentially replaced him with the monegasque driver.
Maybe your heart finally fell for Charles? Maybe in the end you always preferred him. He can't get these assumptions out of his head, because they haunt him now and just thinking about them makes him even more jealous. How come you're as close to Charles as you once were to Lando?
"Wow, what a reunion! Y/n told me how you were best friends before" Charles smiles kindly, and Lando seems surprised by his words. “Did she really tell you?” He asks suddenly. You clear your throat, embarrassed by what you told your friend about your relationship with the Brit.
"Yes, she told me so many things about you. That you were her favorite boy - and still are, that she loved spending time with you so much, that she really found you adorable and cute-” “Hey shut up!!” You beg Charles, placing the palm of your hand over his mouth.
Lando feels himself blush violently upon hearing Charles' words. Is this really true? “Do you think I’m cute ?” He teases you gently, but you feel even more embarrassed that you end up pressing your hands to your cheeks to hide the already terribly apparent red color.
"And that's not all, I still forgot lots and lots of things... anyway, I'll leave you, work awaits me again" Charles ends up patting the Mclaren driver on the shoulder, before to give you a smile and walk away.
A silence falls for a moment. The atmosphere has suddenly changed, it's more tense. But tense because you now know that a more than ambiguous and friendly feeling has settled between you. Tension paralyzes you as you fight the urge to jump into each other's arms.
Lando finally clears his throat before looking into your beautiful eyes. “How did you meet Charles?” “I’m a friend of his girlfriend, and she introduced us.” You respond simply, staring at him intently. Until you notice that his eyes no longer support your gaze but attack your lips.
It makes you think of that moment. And it makes him think of that moment too.
He stared intently at your pink lips. He wonders if he can. If he has the right. If he can taste them again. To move his lips on yours, to see if they are as soft as they seem.
To relive this moment. This moment, which is undoubtedly the most beautiful of his memories, and even more the most beautiful day of his life.
-
England was probably now one of your favorite destinations. Maybe because you found your confidant there, your best friend, this boy as adorable as he was immature who dreamed of being a Formula 1 driver. But all good things come to an end, and you already knew that destiny had to separate your paths. That these two months of vacation spent alongside Lando will only be distant but happy memories of your adolescence, and that you will perhaps end up watching him race on TV, being only a spectator and no longer his childhood best friend.
Lando knew it too. He knew that you had to return to your homeland, because after all England was only the destination your parents had chosen for the summer holidays. But his heart was breaking, suffocating at the idea of letting you go, when he had just accepted the fact that you were for him, potentially the woman of his life. You couldn't suppress the feeling of apprehension and sadness, as each minute that passed reminded you of how much time you would miss, passing by at a crazy speed.
Sitting on large rocks on the beach, you both admired the beautiful sunset that was falling on this last day of vacation. Tomorrow, a new chapter would begin. So you wanted to fully enjoy your last moments with your secret lover, because you might never meet him again. Silence reigned, peacefully, while the sound of the insolent waves lulled your ears with a bitter melody. You hoped you could slow down time, or rather extend it, because he seemed so stingy and selfish about giving you a little more to even exchange your unspoken thoughts.
Suddenly, you felt the boy's gaze on you, a gaze so intense that you had to turn your head away to look at him the same way. A mischievous smile appeared on his thin lips, as he opened his mouth to say a few words to you. “You promised me a gift if I won my kart race. I’m still waiting for it, Y/n.” His eyes filled with mischief and impatience, as you remembered the promise you had made to him. He had won his karting race earlier in the day, and you had promised him a gift if he managed to win it. However, you didn't think it would be so easy, since you had secretly chosen a rather... surprising gift.
A kiss. Not on his cheek, his forehead, or even his temple. No, it was more than just a childish, awkward kiss. A real, quick kiss on his lips. You thought about it because, although you sincerely believed in Lando's phenomenal abilities, you didn't think he would end up on the top step of the podium so easily and quickly. And now you're in trouble. Lando continues to stare at you mischievously, still impatient to discover your precious gift. Your brain was no longer able to function, your heart was speeding up. Did you really have to go for it? Take the plunge and place your lips on his?
Lando's impatience and waiting were more evident, while you were still panicking inside. And then, that's when you understood. That there was only him in your heart, and that there was only one chance. Only one life to live it to the fullest, without regretting anything. That worst case scenario, you'll go home the next day, forgetting this stupid promise and action. That in the end, this vacation, this boy, and this kiss, will remain engraved as the most beautiful adolescent chapter of your life, and that you will remember it with full joy and nostalgia.
Then the next second, Lando was surprised to feel a pair of lips on his. The kiss only lasted a short second, yet long enough for him to feel a bunch of different emotions. His heart felt like it was stopping, just as his brain was trying to properly process what had just happened. A powerful, strange but sweet feeling came over the young British man. He had just received his first kiss, and even more so from the girl he loved desperately. As you pulled back to look into his eyes, his looked back at you, confused. But because he understood.
He understood that this was love. That he was destined to remain faithful to you, for the rest of his life, because that kiss was the promise that his heart would belong to you forever.
-
It's been a little over a week now since you and Lando got together. And these last few days have been filled with nostalgia, reunions and above all strong and intense emotions. After the Jeddah race, Lando asked you to spend time together. Finally, he secretly wanted to insinuate that he wanted to spend every minute of his time by your side. Like before, like eight years ago.
He had finally found his childhood crush, the woman he considered the love of his life, and so he wasn't going to let her escape so easily. Especially since this reunion made him rekindle these deep feelings that he had not lost, but balked at because he had come to the conclusion that he will never find you again. However, talking to you again, spending time with you made him feel the love he had for you, but so much more intense, so much stronger and more powerful.
He's never felt like this before with any other girl, he's never seen himself in this state. Completely and obsessively in love, desperate to receive your attention and stay with you. Finding you was a sentimental blow to him, while he found himself lost forever in your heart. Finding you sealed his heart in your hands for eternity.
“It was a great day.” You hasten to say as a pretty smile takes place on your face. The driver looks at you lovingly, as he nods his head in approval. “Especially when I beat you at karting. It was the best moment of the day” He teases you and you stare at him. "I drove into the barrier because you hit my kart with yours. It doesn't count" You try to defend yourself.
“It doesn’t matter, I still won.” He adds as you sit side by side on the warm sand of the beach. “Still as narcissistic as back then” You roll your eyes but don’t hide that teasing smile on your face. “Still the same Lando Norris that you loved so much” He adds, his eyes scanning the horizon in the distance.
You swallow with difficulty, a lump in your throat. “Loved uh…” You whisper to yourself. Raising your head, you are greeted by the sunset. A pretty sunset, the same one that accompanied you on that last day of vacation eight years ago. You can't help but feel this feeling of nostalgia, of happiness.
It's exactly the same pretty frame, and the same boy by your side. It reminds you so much of that beautiful day long ago. Your heart warms at the thought. You finally found the man you love so much, and you couldn't be happier than right now.
The waves play the same melody, but this time the melody is more beautiful. Brighter and strangely romantic. As you gaze at the clouds in the distance, you feel Lando's intense gaze on you. Exactly the same look he gave you back then. Then, as if you were rehearsing the same scene, like a play that you are performing to perfection, you turn around to lock your gaze with his.
And there, that famous mischievous smile takes over his lips. Eight years later, he has the same look, this smile that changed everything. "You forgot your promise again, like back then. I'm still waiting for it, y/n" His words hit you like a bomb. Because they are exactly the same ones he said to you the day you made that stupid promise to him. This stupid gift.
And as if you weren't stupid enough, you secretly thought of the same gift. You internally promised yourself that you would give him the same kiss if he managed to beat you in karting. And he did it, as if he had put all his soul into the race to deserve this surprise gift from you. You feel helpless as the same panic takes hold of you. Everything seems so unreal. This sweet memory will finally happen again.
You see his eyes drop to your lips for a split second. But it's that split second that changes everything about you. Now you know it's for life. That you found the boy of your heart, that you will never leave him again, even if he doesn't feel the same way as you. That you only have one life to regret nothing, and this childhood kiss you have never regretted. So you never want to regret it.
You smile shyly, and without him being able to do anything, you crash your lips onto his. Lando's eyes widen, but he finally realizes what's happening. And he doesn't wait any longer to move his lips to yours. But this time the kiss is totally different. It is no longer innocent and shy like it used to be. It's no longer a little kiss between two teenagers who promised each other a gift.
No, this time it's much more romantic. More intense, deep and passionate. It's so comforting and sweet. This kiss is the fruit of the unconditional love he feels for you. So, he continues to deepen the kiss, his hand delicately cupping your cheek while his arm comes around your waist.
He licks your bottom lip with his tongue before nibbling it gently, letting you completely devote yourself to him. He continues to kiss you passionately, but yet it's not vulgar or crude. It's a soft and pleasant kiss, where only love is exchanged between your lips.
You finally broke the kiss by pulling back, a shy smile matching your pink cheeks perfectly. He opens his eyes, a silly smile on his lips before quickly pecking your lips again. You stay like that for a moment, admiring each other for a long time, love in your eyes.
"I'm so fucking in love with you, baby. Not since yesterday, not since last week, no. Since ages ago, for so long that I've stopped counting." You smile at him tenderly, your cheeks still pink. "Me too, Lando. I've loved you since we first met."
He smiles wider as his arms pull you a little closer to him. "You know, you're the girl who stole my first kiss. And you're also the only girl who managed to steal my heart. My heart has been yours for eight years, since the very moment you took me kissed." You can’t help but giggle, which melts Lando’s heart. “I thought you stopped counting.” He scratches the back of his neck, somewhat embarrassed. “Let’s just say I kept counting because I was desperate to know when I was going to find the woman I love.”
In the meantime he leaned over you, until you were lying on the soft sand. “Every day you were gone was like a bullet in my chest.” “What a romantic, I’m almost going to get emotional” You tease, a mocking laugh coming from you. “Still as teasing as before” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
"For eight years, you were the only girl who never stopped staying anchored in my thoughts. From our first kiss, my heart already belonged to you, and it will continue to be yours for the rest of my life. I never wanted any other girl but you, and I waited so long for you that I'll never let you go. I love you so much, sweetheart” His words warm your heart, as you gently caress his face with your thumbs. “I’m completely in love with you too, Lan.” And in these last words, he rushes to kiss you again.
You feel like eight years ago, like the two idiots in love who stole their first kiss. Nothing has changed except the reality that reminds you that your love is bound for eternity, and that it will continue to exist because it is deeper and more passionate every day. That this is the present moment, and that your hearts are finally filled with happiness to have been able to find their other half, after so many years of desperately continuing to live without the presence of the other.
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sugurizz · 2 months
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(SMUT/NSFW +18 Minors DNI!)
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐭𝐨 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐨𝐲! 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ── Sooo I originally uploaded this on my BBY boy’s birthday to celebrate it because he means the WORLD to me bro frrr. But it accidentally got deleted and I only found out about it after a month or sth sooo yeah…poop happens. Anyways enjoy my naugthy boii smut tysm ✨
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Lover boy Yuuta who couldn’t forget you after your little escapade together. You were both on vacation and only had a few days left before you had to say your goodbyes and go back to your respective cities.
He gave you the warmest hug the day you two parted ways. His cute straw hat and the fluttering pink on his cheeks had you missing him already.
‘See you soon,’ His much bigger hand held yours. long fingers locking with your smaller ones. ‘Talk to me when you get home.’
You felt frustrated. Having to leave Yuu just a few days after meeting him…
He had the biggest warmest heart and the thickest cock to match, ate your ass like a god till you almost ripped his bedsheets and muttered the sweetest words when he cuddled you on the late summer nights..
‘come visit me soon. I’ll be missing you too…’ You planted a peck on the tip of his nose and smiled, eyes still lustfully glued to his dark ones.
Lover boy Yuuta who kept in close touch with you ever since then. He got more lovesick by the day and hornier by the night. Calling you more often and loosening you up mid convo. Asking you what you’re wearing, the fabric and color of your underwear. Teasing you about the nights he made you cum in tears, reminiding you of how much you whined and moaned, clawed at his back muscles and squirted on his stomach. The sound of his voice talking you into touching yourself, making you crave him more as he does the same. Your whines of dissatisfaction at his absence merge with his deep groans and hearty giggles.
‘Come on sweets…nghh don’t leave me hanging here…cum with me, sweetheart’ He strokes himself faster, making your shaky hands rub your heat.
‘Yuuta…need you so much, my pussy wants you so bad’
‘We’ll be together soon, promise you babe’
He cums and groans low, cursing at how bad he wishes it was your pussy lips squeezing him instead of his own hand.
Lover boy Yuuta who got so embarassed about the idea of sending you nude pictures of him. Not only is he self conscious about how big his cock is but he still wants his girlfriend to see him all soft and vulnerable for her.
You received a pic from him late at night. White towel wrapped around his waist, barely covering past his V-line. He took the pic with a cheeky smirk, big doe eyes shiny and his hair a slightly moist from the shower he just took.
Lover boy Yuuta who’s finally arrived at your homecity, waiting impatiently . You noticed him in his grey sweatpants, waving at you and holding his arms wide open for you to finally fall into. He pulled you in the tightest hug and squeezed your body closer to his, gently stroking your hair.
Lover boy Yuuta who’s been horny for days. His balls all tight and heavy, waiting to be milked dry inside your pretty pussy. He tried to be a sweetheart and give it some time before fucks you dumb, but you couldn’t help waiting and pulled him into your room, dropping to your knees in front of him and pulling his sweatpants lower.
Lover boy Yuuta who’s fuzzy and flustered, he makes sure that he’s not pressuring you into anything like the sweetheart he is, but your eyes bubbling with hearts and your glossy lips planting the wettest kisses on his cock soon shut him up.
‘Oh babe, you feel so good..’
He ruffles your hair and buries your face into his crotch. ‘Do something to me, my balls are so heavy for you, princess.’
Your nose digs into his trimmed pubes. He smells so good and feels so big in your little mouth. Your throat struggles to make space for him but you still take him in. Your teary eyes glance up at him, giving him a lovedrunk stare, fondling his balls softly in your palms.
You suck him off for hours, laying your head on his thigh and licking the sticky precum off his tip, eyes locked with his and nails gently teasing his gorgeous balls.
‘How you doing luv? feels good?’
He shivers and squeezes his thighs around your head, his length twitching and mouth half open in feverish desire.
‘D-Don’t wanna cum yet…wanna do it in your tight pussy’
‘She missed you too..come fuck her like you hate her’
He kisses you senseless, groping your ass and rubbing it back and forth on his hard-on. His moans vibrate against your lips, getting deeper and louder as does his frustration.
Lover boy Yuuta who’s fucking you stupid. His balls are bouncing up and down, bumping on your tiny asshole and making you cry in pleasure.
He keeps you still with one arm and pulls your hair back with the other, having your tits rub against his face.
He smacks your ass on repeat, his large hands leaving their imprint on your skin as you mewl for him to let you cum.
‘Mmmh gosh…fuck my brains out Yuuta!, Make me pregnant’ He holds your face and sticking his forehead to yours, staring into your eyes and lustfully hammering into your tummy.
‘F-fuck..your pussy drives me crazy…Don’t ever leave me..luv you so much, agh’
He holds your hands and props you on his lap, sloppily making out with you and pawing all over your skin. He suckles you tongue and licks your lips till they’re all puffy and soft. The blush on his cheeks never tones down, and his glistening eyes turned teary from so much arousal. His hips rutted faster, raspy moans almost supressing yours.
Lover boy Yuuta who’s covered you all over with his sticky cum; inside your pussy, your butt, your tummy, your face, spurting on your breasts and sucking your nipples till they turned sore and raw.
You skins felt so warm and sticky, gross fluids and sweat covering you both and room getting all hot and foggy from your gasps and moans. He tired you up so much you cried on his dick, begging him to give you some rest as your knees shaked senseless.
‘It’s okay sweetie, bear with me a little more…nghh missed you so much, my big cock still wants more, yeah?’
‘Mmmh Yuuta, hic…p-please wait a sec…it hurtss’
‘Shh, you’re my big girl…You’re strong enough to take me, nice and good’
He cums inside you once more, plugging your cunt with his middle finger and planting a playful kiss on your cheek.
‘Thank you, Yuuta..’ You smile at him softly. You stare at him, all amourous and melty. Tummy so full with your boyfriend’s cum and arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace.
He holds you tight and rests his head on yours.
‘You’ll thank me more tomorrow, sweet cheeks.’
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steddielations · 1 year
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Staying the night, cuddling well into the morning is entirely new to Eddie when he starts dating Steve.
He hasn’t been with many guys. Favors exchanged behind a club building were quick and done. Meaningless and he didn’t mind, got used to it because that’s just how it is for people like Eddie.
No chance of going steady with someone, holding hands through a field of roses, that romantic shit wasn’t in the cards for him so he convinced himself he didn’t want it anyway. The couple of guys he’s managed to get a room with were gone by the time he woke up. Even when he thought there was something more, only to wake up alone with a cold pillow.
So with Steve, he loves being the big spoon, wrapping all four limbs around him, clinging to him so he can’t go anywhere. Not that Steve would, he never pulls away, never leaves, he loves being held as much as Eddie loves holding him. Eddie knows he won’t wake up alone, he gets the best sleep of his life with Steve in his arms. Just feeling Steve there with him, still.
Then once, Eddie’s half asleep when Steve comes over after working a late shift. Eddie’s too sleepy to turn around, mumbling “hey sweehar” and Steve shushes him, climbing in, sliding an arm over his waist and gently tugging Eddie against him.
Eddie sighs blissfully when Steve noses through his hair to kiss the back of his neck. He’s too tired to process all the little bursts of warmth firing off at the feeling of being held. He just melts into it, falling asleep easier than ever.
Then when he wakes up in the morning, still wrapped in Steve’s arms, he’s rocked with emotions welling in his chest. Steve’s arm is still tucked over Eddie’s stomach, leg slotted between Eddie’s, nose pressed against Eddie’s shoulder, snoozing softly.
Intimacy is everywhere, snug against his body, filling his stomach with fuzzy warmth. There in Steve’s arms, held through the night, Eddie feels so kept.
No one’s ever held onto Eddie before.
Guys don’t do that to Eddie. He’s not the one they hold onto, the one they keep. He’s the one they hide, the one they leave alone in an alley or a cold bed. The one they can’t get away from fast enough and fucking forget. Eddie was fine with that because he never expected anything more.
Eddie wasn’t prepared to be loved by Steve Harrington.
It’s ridiculous. A fairytale. Eddie Munson who crawled through seedy bars and back alleys somehow conned his way into the most loving arms imaginable. It’s so fucking ridiculous.
He starts laughing. Chuckling hysterically into his pillow. The whole bed starts to shake and so does Eddie. His laughs turn wet, a mix of cackling and sobbing bubbles from his throat.
Steve stirs awake, looking over Eddie’s shoulder, “Eddie … Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks softly, gathering Eddie’s hair from the tears on his cheeks and tucking it behind his ear.
Another wave of laughs and sobs. Eddie battled monsters with Metallica and somehow dating Steve is the most insane thing to happen to him.
Finally, Eddie says with a happily overwhelmed exhale, “I love you and you love me.”
Steve blinks, “What’s so wrong with that?”
“Nothing just,” Eddie looks up at him, propped on his elbow still perfect somehow with bed hair, looking down at Eddie like he’s the precious thing here. So, so ridiculous. “Shit like this doesn’t happen to me. You weren’t supposed to happen to me.”
Steve’s brows knit curiously, and Eddie really can’t explain it more than that. He’s just having a damn moment. He almost died not too long ago, now he’s got all this life and love coming out of nowhere at him, it fucks him up sometimes.
Steve gets it, reassuring after a moment, “Well it’s happening, Munson. You got me now and I’ve got you.”
Eddie laughs, still a little wet and pulls Steve’s arm over him, snuggling back against his chest. Steve tightens his hold and Eddie settles into the way it feels to be something worth holding in Steve’s arms.
“Yeah just…” Eddie says, voice small, “Just keep me, Steve. Okay?”
Steve presses kisses to his shoulder and up his neck, soft but with so much feeling behind them, “You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar.”
Eddie snorts and yeah. He really likes being Steve’s little spoon.
For @steddie-week day 2: fluff and/or angst
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sadnymi · 2 months
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「 ✦ Not One of your girls.✦ 」
[part1][Theodore Nott × reader] [p2]
Summary: Theodore Nott was the love of my life, the one I'd trade my whole world for. But this summer, I yearned for a different role in his life, even if it meant becoming just one of his girls
Warning:fluff, angst, smut, strong language.
Words:6.5k
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Tears? I don't think I had any left. It felt like I'd spent the past month in a self-imposed exile, navigating the city with a map etched into my memory solely to avoid him. Ignoring calls, dodging mutual friends. I'd become a ghost in my own life, flitting from corner to corner, hoping i won’t see him, anything to escape the phantom touch, the memory of his smirk.
Lana's call shattered the fragile peace I'd constructed. Her voice, usually bubbly with gossip, held a worried tremor. "Something's definitely wrong, (Y/N)," Lana had pressed over the phone, her voice laced with concern. "You sound… empty.”
I'd lied, of course. "Just the summer blues, Lani. Missing you like crazy."
"Uh-huh," she said, skepticism thick in her voice. "Well, guess what? I'm finally coming home! You gotta come get me from the airport, promise?"
"Of course," I said easily, even when the thought of the airport twisting the knife in my gut.
“Theo's picking me up, you wanna come with him ?"
"Actually," I hesitated, hating the way my voice betrayed me, "I was kind of thinking maybe I could… tag along with Chris?"
There was a beat of surprised silence, then a slow, knowing chuckle from Lana. "Whoa, okay, didn't see that coming. You sure you don't want me to ask Theo?"
The name sent a fresh spike of pain through me. "Theo? Absolutely not. Have you seen the way he drives?…" I trailed off, unable to voice the truth – anything but Theo.
A pang shot through me as I descended the stairs, catching sight of Mom lost in thought, staring at the picture of Theo, Mattheo, and my brother as kids. They were all smiles, dirt smudged on their faces, a testament to countless childhood adventures. A ghost of a smile touched my lips. "I miss him too," I whispered, reaching out to touch her shoulder.
Mom jumped slightly, startled from her reverie. Her eyes softened the moment they landed on me. "(Y/N)! Honey, I was just about to check on you. Your father and I were getting worried sick." She took my hand, her concern evident in the gentle squeeze.
"Just… thinking," I hedged, forcing a smile onto my face. The last thing I needed was to worry them. "Everything's fine."
Mom eyed me skeptically. "Are you sure? You haven't been yourself lately."
"Just hitting adulthood, finally," I joked, trying to lighten the mood. Mom chuckled, swatting my chest playfully.
"Dinner at the Nott family tonight, don't forget," she announced, and my smile faltered.
"Oh, no, Mom, I… I actually promised my book club I'd be there tonight," I stammered, desperately searching for an excuse. "And you know Lana's still at camp, I think you guys should go without me."
My mom's brow furrowed in confusion. "Book club? Since when? And Lana? Honey, is everything alright?"
The playful glint in her eyes betrayed her. "My little (Y/N) is finally done with her crush on the Nott boy?" she teased, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
My cheeks burned. Forced cheer felt hollow on my tongue. "Mom, stop it! I was a child."
Memories flooded back – seven-year-old me, a torrent of tears streaming down my face, demanding to know why I couldn't marry Theo. "Why can't you just ask Dad to talk to Mr. Nott and arrange something? We'll be perfect together!" I'd sobbed, clinging to her leg. Mom had knelt then, wiping away my tears, and promised she'd think about it when I grew up.
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she leaned down to kiss my cheek. "Alright, sweetie. I'll get your back tonight. Have fun at your book club."
The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, meticulously applying a full face of makeup and curling my hair into perfect waves for a nonexistent book club. My reflection in the mirror mocked me – glitter practically danced across my eyelids in the afternoon light, Crisscross Backless Ruched Glitter
Bodycon Dress a stark contrast to the sweatpants I'd worn all day.
But hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. My parents wouldn't question a night out if I looked the part, makeup a dead giveaway. It was a flimsy cover, but hopefully good enough.
Reaching for my lipstick holder, the answer was clear as day. Red. Classic, bold, unapologetic red. It was the perfect armor for the night – a stark reminder to myself that beneath the hurt, beneath the carefully constructed lie, I was still (Y/N). The same girl who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it. Maybe Theo didn't see me that way anymore, but that didn't mean I had to lose myself entirely.
Tonight, I was reclaiming my power, one red lip at a time.
Three clicks of the shutter button later, and I deemed myself a goddess incarnate. The glitter shimmered under the lamplight, the perfect complement to the bold red lip. Caption time. A mischievous grin tugged at my lips.
> Now he's thinkin' bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so
"Well, hello again, Instagram," I muttered, hitting post with a flourish. It took less than a minute for the validation to flood in.
> @BlaiseZabini: it's me I'm him.
> @LanaNott: girllll save me please save me.
> @MattheoRiddle: who !? C d ?
@EnzoBerkshire: is he why you dumped all of us for (planning a murder).
@christiannott: pretty.
The school crowd joined in the comments their comments a mix of compliments and playful questions. I couldn't help but grin at Blaise, Mattheo, and Enzo's antics.
Just as I settled on popcorn and a night of "The Devil Wears Prada" indulgence, my phone buzzed with a notification I wasn't expecting – a DM. My heart hammered against my ribs. It was from him.
> Theo (hopefully future husband): what kind of bookclub are you at?
I cringed at the outdated nickname in my phone (quickly changing it to "Theodore Nott").
Ignoring the actual question (because seriously?), I left him in read and hit play on the movie. Let him stew in his curiosity for a while.
But just as Meryl Streep was delivering a particularly scathing line, my phone buzzed again. A new message from Theodore Nott.
> theo: answer Y/N
The audacity of this man! I rolled my eyes, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and with a triumphant smirk, sent a single reply: A middle finger emoji .
A blaring ringtone ripped me from a dream .Groaning, I fumbled for my phone, squinting at the caller ID. Lana.
"Hello?" I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.
"Girl, what the heck? I knew there was something you were hiding! You gonna tell me everything when I arrive?"
I flopped back against the pillows, belatedly registering the popcorn scattered on the duvet and the movie paused mid-scene. My mom must have tucked me in after I dozed off.
"Sure," I mumbled, still foggy and not entirely sure what there was to tell Lana anyway.
"I told Chris he'd wait for you at eight," she chirped.
Eight? Panic jolted me awake. I fumbled for the clock – it was already six.
"Why'd you wake me up now then?" I whined, sleep clinging to me desperately.
"First, how could you sleep when your best friend is finally coming home? Two, because you're taking forever to get ready!"
I rolled my eyes, fighting the urge to sink back into the blissful oblivion of sleep. "Fine, fine," I conceded.
A quick shower later, I threw on a pair of comfy shorts and a t-shirt. Kissing my dad, who'd made a valiant effort to whip up breakfast ("Scrambled eggs are your favorite, right?").
My phone buzzed. Theodore Nott. My heart hammered against my ribs in a frantic rhythm. I looked from the window – his car, sleek and black, was parked at the curb. No sign of Christian's Porsche.
"What the…" I breathed, a mix of anger and confusion swirling in my gut.
"I need to go, Papa," I mumbled, throwing him a quick kiss.
Reaching his car, I yanked open the door. "What are you doing here?" I spat, my voice laced with ice.
Theo didn't even glance at me. "Get in or go inside. I don't have time for this."
"Where's Chris?" I demanded, my jaw clenching.
He finally met my gaze, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. "Business trip came up. Now get in."
There was no reasoning with him. With a silent snarl of frustration, I climbed into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with enough force to make the fancy car wince. Not sure if Theo possessed human emotions, but I was pretty sure the love he had for his car was unquestionable.
"Great," he sighed, muttering a curse under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like "Accidenti!" – a mild Italian curse .
The rest of the ride was a tense standoff. I turned on the radio, defiant and childish, only for him to shut it off with a curt gesture. I shot him a fiery glare, then turned it back on, louder this time. The audacity of this man!
He cursed again, a string of angry Italian this time, but I drowned him out with the music, burying myself in my phone to avoid further interaction. The drive, thankfully, wasn't long and soon the familiar sight of the airport terminal loomed ahead.
Theo pulled into the airport garage, his face a mask of irritation. I flung open the door, slamming it shut for good measure. His glare was met with an equally icy stare from me. A quick glance at my watch told me it was 9:55 – hopefully Lana wouldn't make me wait too long. Anything was preferable to another minute in Theo's company.
Relief washed over me when I spotted her, a blur of pink and blonde hair bouncing through the arrivals gate. Her shriek echoed through the terminal as she launched herself at Theo, who caught her in a hug. They looked…comfortable. Happy.
"Look what I got you!" Lana exclaimed, pulling back and revealing a silver bracelet with a delicate Larus bird charm. It was beautiful. My gaze flickered to Theo, who offered a small smile.
"Do you like it?" she chirped, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.
"Of course," Theo replied, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "It's perfect."
Then she was on me, engulfing me in a suffocating hug and babbling a mile a minute in a language that sounded suspiciously like excited Italian. It took a moment to decipher her words.
"Look! I got us matching Larus bird bracelets!" she chirped, holding up another identical bracelet.
I smiled as I took it from her, sliding it onto my wrist. "Thanks, Lana. It's beautiful."
"So, you took good care of her for me, like I asked?" Lana's voice turned teasing, her eyes flitting between Theo and me.
Before Theo could even open his mouth, I shot him a withering look. "You have no idea," I muttered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
Back in the car, Lana dominated the entire ride with a nonstop stream of chatter. I plastered a smile on my face and offered occasional nods, punctuated by the stolen glance at Theo in the rearview mirror.
Finally, we pulled into my driveway. Lana turned to me, bouncing with barely contained excitement. "Get some sleep, (Y/N)! We're all hitting the beach tonight – no excuses! We'll pick you up at ten, right Theo?"
My heart sank. Theo and I hadn't spoken a single word the entire ride, and the last thing I wanted was to spend another evening in his company.
"I—" I began, but Lana cut me off.
"No buts, (Y/N)! I'm serious," she said, her voice losing its playful edge. Her puppy-dog eyes were impossible to resist. Plus, the thought of disappointing her was unbearable.
With a forced smile, I nodded in agreement. "See you at ten," I mumbled, stepping out of the car I shut the car door with what I hoped was a significant bang (earning a "Hey!" from Theo and a giggle from Lana).
stormed up the steps and into my house. Reaching my room, I flung myself onto the bed and screamed into my pillow.
With a mission in mind, I flung open my dresser drawer. I pulled out the beach dress I'd bought with Mom, the one she'd teased me looked straight out of a goddess painting. "Playing Aphrodite?" she'd chuckled. Maybe a little Aphrodite action wouldn't hurt.
Packing was simple – a book for lounging, my makeup bag (waterproof mascara, a must!), sunscreen (just in case), and a water bottle. An extra layer? Nah, I was channeling beach goddess vibes today.
The pièce de résistance, however, was hidden beneath the dress – a hot pink bikini .
My phone buzzed on the nightstand – Lana calling. I swiped on another layer of lip gloss, the vibrant pink a perfect match for my mischievous mood.
Theo was already waiting by his car, a scowl etched on his face. I marched up to him, a mischievous glint in my eyes, and tossed the beach bag through the air. He caught it with a surprised grunt, his scowl deepening, a single word escaping my lips, "Catch."
A quick hug for Lana later, I slid into the backseat. Reaching for my phone, a notification from Marco, the cute Italian boy I'd met last year while visiting Italy , made me grin. He'd liked my recent post and even sent a DM.
"Hey, Lana," I began, tapping away at my phone, not taking my eyes off the screen as Theo threw the car into gear. "What does 'Mi sono perso nei tuoi occhi' mean?"
Lana's voice squeaked from the front seat. "Oh. My. God. He said… he said he's lost in your eyes! (Y/N), who on earth did you message?" Her voice rose in excitement, her body practically contorting as she tried to snatch a peek at my phone.
I playfully shoved her away as she tried to grab my phone for a closer look. "Stop it lan," I laughed, trying to mask the flutter in my stomach.
"Isn't a little soon to be moving on, (Y/N)?"
My jaw dropped, mirroring Lana's shocked expression in the rearview mirror. My eyes stung with a sudden wave of hurt. "What the actual—move on from what?" Lana sputtered, her voice a mix of outrage and disbelief.
"Can you mind your business, please?" I snapped at Theo, my voice tight with anger.
"Actually, it kind of is," he snapped back, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "You're stuck with me for the entire day, remember?"
"Since when did you care about anything I did?"
The car swerved slightly as Theo tightened his grip on the wheel. "I care about you not getting hurt," he growled.
"Hurt? From a harmless compliment?" I spat. "Maybe you should worry more about the real hurt you caused, Theo."
Lana's voice cut through the tension, sharp and laced with genuine concern. "What? What do you mean, (Y/N)? What hurt did he cause?"
"I—" I started, the words catching in my throat."I didn't mean myself," the lie tasting bitter on my tongue.
He looked at me then, his gaze flickering to the tears welling up in my eyes.
I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my AirPods, the familiar comfort a lifeline in the storm. Cranking the volume to full blast, I shut out the world, focusing on the music that pulsed in my ears. I stared out the window, the world blurring into a watercolor mess.
The car jolted to a stop, and I practically leaped out before it even came to a complete halt. Grabbing my bag, I stormed towards the beach, the setting sun painting the sky in fiery hues. The familiar sight of the carnival near the shore grounded me slightly.
Enzo, was the first to spot me. He erupted in a whoop, and I practically dived into his welcoming embrace. The rest of the group soon followed, a cacophony of greetings washing over me.
Blaise, ambled towards me, a sheepish grin plastered on his face. I promptly blocked him with a hand on his chest. "You, Blaise, are officially banned from my life for at least another month."
"Come on, (Y/N)! I already took enough abuse on my beautiful face that night from that..." he trailed off, his eyes flicking towards Theo.
"Not a word," I hissed, cutting him off before he could spill the beans. "Don't you dare say a thing about it, or you're dead, Blaise. I swear."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly replaced by a resigned nod. "Alright, alright, secrets are safe with me." He slunk away, plopping down on the sand beside Enzo.
Across from me, Theo sat his gaze boring into me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. He kept staring,His gaze was intense, burning into mine like he could see right through me, so I used the tried and true method – a good old-fashioned middle finger.
He met my gesture with a head shake, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he lit a cigarette.
The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air as our friends settled in for the evening. Inside, I felt a storm brewing – a mix of anger, hurt, and a strange, unidentifiable longing.
"Alright, guys! Who's up for truth or dare?" Lana's voice boomed, shattering the fragile peace.
"Childish," Mattheo scoffed.
"Pleeeease?" Lana pleaded, batting her eyelashes at him. He caved with a sigh, a lovesick smile playing on his lips.
"Actually, I have a bottle," I announced, reaching into my bag and pulling out my water bottle.
"Always prepared, sweet (Y/N)," Draco teased, blowing me a kiss. I countered with a playful air kiss.
"Not playing," Theo mumbled, blowing another smoke ring into the air.
"Coward," I whispered, not sure if he heard me. But apparently, he did.
"What did you say?" he challenged, his gaze hardening.
"Coward," I repeated, my voice gaining strength with each iteration. "Coward, coward, coward." I batted my eyelashes with a saccharine smile. "Want me to say it louder?"
"Okay, enough," Mattheo interjected, shooting a warning look at both of us. "You're playing, and you're going to stop."
Enzo, grabbed the bottle from me. "Let's get this party started, then! Spin it!"
The bottle wobbled and spun, finally landing on Lana with a triumphant thud.
"Truth or dare?" Enzo grinned.
"Dare!" she declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"I dare you to reveal one of (Y/N)'s secrets," he challenged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Lana's jaw dropped.
"It's okay, Lani," I mumbled, "Choose whatever you want, babe. No secrets here."
"Holy moly, you're not scared?" Blaise exclaimed, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"I don't regret anything I do," I declared, holding Theo's gaze. "If it was a secret, it means I didn't want it out there enough. So, not worth keeping."
My defiance sent a smirk across my face, but inside, I was a mess. Theo muttered a barely audible curse under his breath.
Lana, ever the drama queen, paused for effect. "Well, you definitely have a thing for Italian! You might not have said it, but I just know..." she leaned in conspiratorially, "...saying one simple phrase in Italian would have you blushing like crazy, thinking it's a marriage proposal."
A roar of laughter erupted from the group, even Theo cracking a small smile.
"Buongiorno, bella," Blaise cooed in his best Italian accent, earning another round of laughter and a playful shove from me.
We continued playing truth or dare, the mood a strange mix of tension and laughter. The bottle finally landed on Blaise, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
He leaned in, his voice barely a whisper, "Remember our little agreement, (Y/N)?" I pursed my lips, silently mouthing, "Don't cross the line." He winked, then addressed me in a louder voice, "Truth or dare?"
"Dare," I declared, a defiant edge to my voice.
"I dare you to take your dress off " he started, his voice trailing off dramatically.
A collective groan went up, except for Mattheo who smirked, and Enzo who playfully swatted Blaise's shoulder.
"What are you? a ten years old? You think I'd run away crying?" I challenged, a spark of defiance igniting within me. In one swift motion, I slipped out of the flowy beach dress, revealing the hot pink bikini underneath.
A low whistle escaped Blaise's lips. "Damn, girl! No wonder poor Cedric stood no chance. You could've driven him crazy with that bod."
I winked at him, relishing the surprised look on Lana's face. "Something to consider," I joked, trying to mask the storm of emotions brewing inside.
Theo, however, seemed less amused. "For f*ck's sake," he muttered under his breath, his voice laced with a hint of something I couldn't decipher.
Blaise smirked. "What's wrong, Theo? Can't handle the heat?"
For a second, I thought Theo was going to kill him. He clenched his jaw, his gaze burning into Blaise. "Just finish this stupid game already," he growled.
The tension was thick enough to choke on, and I decided to take back control. I snatched the bottle, spinning it with a flick of my wrist. As if mocking me, it landed squarely on Theo.
"Truth or dare?" I asked, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. Meeting his gaze was like looking into a stormy sea – the pain, confusion, and maybe even a flicker of longing swirling within.
"Truth," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Do you regret anything… right now?" Each word felt like a shard of glass in my throat, but I forced them out.
He held my gaze for an agonizing moment, then let out a ragged breath. "No," he finally said.
The answer hit me like a physical blow. It was the confirmation of what I'd already suspected, yet it still managed to shatter the fragile hope that had flickered within me.
We played two more rounds, the air heavy with unspoken words. Lana, seemingly oblivious to the tension, had dozed off, her head resting on my lap.
"I'm taking her to bed," Theo announced, bending down to scoop her up gently.
The sunrise was painting the sky in vibrant hues of orange and pink, casting long shadows on the beach. I closed my eyes, needing an escape from the whirlwind of emotions. "Going for a swim," I mumbled, a hollow ache settling in my chest.
Without waiting for a response, I raced towards the water, the cool waves washing over me as I plunged into the ocean. The salty water stung my eyes, but I didn't bother to brush it away. Here, in the vastness of the ocean, I could finally let go of the facade of bravado and let the tears flow freely.
I swam until my muscles screamed in protest. Exhausted but strangely calm, I watched as the others retreated to the house, leaving me alone with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Pushing the wet hair out of my face, I waded back to the beach, shivering as the cool morning air hit my damp skin.
Walking towards the back of the house, the first rays of sunlight warmed my back. I turned a corner, and just like that, I slammed into a solid wall of muscle. It was Theo.
I stumbled back, heart hammering against my ribs. "What are you doing here?" I snapped, the anger a shield against the vulnerability I refused to show.
"Enough, (Y/N). Stop this foolish game," he said, his voice low and intense.
"Foolish game? Don't you dare call my life a game, Theo," I spat, fury bubbling up inside me.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to grab my waist. Before I could react, he'd captured both my wrists in one of his large hands. He was close, so close I could feel the heat radiating off his body, his cologne a familiar scent that sent a shiver down my spine.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, caught between the fear of getting hurt again and the undeniable pull I felt towards him.
"That?" he said, his voice laced with frustration as his gaze flickered down to the pink bikini clinging to my curves. "Is this what you're doing? Whoring yourself out?"
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Whoring myself out?" I mocked him. "Why do you even care, Theo? You made it perfectly clear you don't give a damn what I do, who I'm with, how I act."
He looked at me, his jaw clenched tight. "You will go inside," he said, his voice a low growl. "You will stop whatever you are doing, and you will not… whore yourself out like that again. Understood?"
The possessiveness in his voice, the way his gaze lingered on my body, sent a jolt through me. But I wouldn't let him control me.
I yanked my hands free, taking a step back. "You have no right to tell me what to do."
His eyes narrowed, but then he shifted his gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it landed on my lips. My breath hitched, my body reacting instinctively to his silent scrutiny.
He cleared his throat, the tension in the air crackling like electricity. "Y/N," he warned, his voice a husky whisper.
Then, before I could even process what was happening, he leaned in.
A mischievous grin spread across my face. "Were you watching me swim?" I asked, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
He didn't answer, his jaw clenched tight. But something in his eyes, a flicker of heat, betrayed him.
"Just making sure you didn't drown," he finally muttered, his voice gruff.
I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing. "So that's why you're so… hard right now?" I teased, my voice dripping with playful innocence.
He glared at me, but there was a hint of something else in his eyes.”No,”.
I could feel the tension between us, thick and palpable. Theo's breathing was ragged, his words barely coherent as I teased him, my hand brushing over his stomach under his t-shirt.
"Are you sure?" I whispered, fluttering my lashes at him with a practiced innocence.
"Yeah," he managed to force out, his voice rough and unsteady. I saw his Adam's apple bob with a swallow as my hand grazed lower, sending a jolt through him.“Fuck y/n”
A smirk played on my lips as I traced a finger along his jawline. "Is that what you say when you… touch yourself?" I teased, my voice dripping with a sweetness that seemed foreign on my tongue. "Do you think of me?"
He looked at me, his gaze intense, his reply barely a gasp. "No."
"No?" I feigned surprise, leaning in closer. "So, you don't want me to help you now?" I purred, my voice dropping to a seductive murmur. "You don't want me to…" I trailed off.
"Get on my knees, right here, right now?" I finished suggestively.
He didn't respond, his breathing ragged and shallow. I pressed on, my voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I would let you," I breathed,"I would let you take me right here, right now. You could do whatever you wanted to me, anything at all."``
"Would you want me to do that?" I whispered, feeling his hand grip the wall for support.
I grabbed his hand and put on the heat between my thighs. A sharp gasp escaped my lips as his fingers grazed me, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. "See, I'm so wet already," I breathed, he leaned down, urgency in his kiss. I met him halfway, the taste of him both familiar and forbidden.
We broke apart, gasping for air. Before his lips could find mine again, I distracted him, freeing one hand and guiding his face towards the sensitive skin of my neck. His lips and tongue danced across the exposed flesh, sending shivers down my spine.
With his hair caught in my hand, I pulled his head back, then sank to my knees in front of him. Looking up at him, I whispered, "Can I, please?"
"Fuck," he muttered, nodding reluctantly.
I unbuttoned his jeans, looking up at him as I lowered his boxers. "You're so hard, Theo," I remarked, meeting his gaze. "It must be painful, isn't it?"
As I took him in, I continued in a feigned innocence, "You know, I've never done this before, Theo. Never been on my knees like this for someone before."
"But I'll do it for you," I whispered, locking eyes with him. "Because I'll do anything for you, even if you hurt me. I don't care."
I wrapped my lips around the head of his cock, feeling him twitch in response. He cursed, and I pulled away, planting soft kisses along his length. "So, you didn’t think of me doing that when you masturbate?" I asked, my voice teasing.
"I did—fuck, I did, and I hated myself for that," he confessed, his voice strained with desire.
I started to slide my mouth down his shaft, tasting the salty precum that had already leaked out. He moaned, his hands tangling in my hair as I took him deeper, swirling my tongue around him.
"Oh, fuck,", his praise spurring me on. "That feels so good, baby. You're so good at this."
I started to move my head up and down, taking him deeper with each stroke. I could feel him getting harder in my mouth, and I knew he was enjoying this.
"Yes, just like that," Theo said, his voice strained.
I started to suck harder, using my tongue to tease the sensitive skin of his cock. I could feel him getting closer to the edge, and I knew I had to keep going.
I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock, my fingers gripping him tightly as I began to move my head back and forth. I took him deeper, feeling his cock hit the back of my throat. I could feel him pulsing in my mouth, and I knew he was about to cum.
"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his grip in my hair tightening.
I continued, sucking harder and faster, bringing him to the edge. But just as he was about to release, I pulled away abruptly.
"What —what the fuck?"
I stood up, pushing my hair back with a smirk. "So, you believed that?" I asked, seeing the confusion and frustration in his eyes.
"Believed what?" he asked, breathing heavily and clearly confused.
"That night, did you actually believe what I said?" I taunted, tracing his face lightly with my fingertips. "I just said what I had to get what I wanted, Theo. And it worked. I had you. It was… fun."
I continued, reveling in the power shift, "so actually you were one of my boys, all wrapped around my finger."
"I would pull my jeans up if I were you," I advised with a finality that hung heavy in the air.
Every word that tumbled out of my mouth was a lie, a carefully woven tapestry of deceit designed to inflict the same searing pain I felt. I wanted him to see himself reflected in the cruel mirror of my words, to understand the depth of the wound he'd left gaping in my heart.
I turned away, heading back to the house and eventually to the shared room with Lana. Once in the bathroom, I started the shower and sank to the ground, my legs giving out beneath me, as I let out a sob that wracked my entire body. The pain of his rejection, the guilt of my actions, the hurt of my unrequited love – it all came crashing down upon me in a wave of despair.
The drive home was a suffocating silence, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the engine. I'd fabricated a story about catching the flu, needing to rest. The lietasted acrid on my tongue, but facing Lana, facing anyone, felt impossible.
Back in my room, the familiar walls seemed to close in on me. I sank onto the bed, burying myself in the covers. Theo's calls came one after another, his texts a constant reminder of the conversation left hanging. "We need to talk," they pleaded, each message a fresh wave of guilt crashing over me.
The sting of betrayal still lingered, but today, I craved solace. Seeking refuge in a familiar spot, I found myself nestled amongst the vibrant blooms near the bridge. Here, the gentle murmur of the water and the sweet scent of flowers offered a temporary escape.
Time seemed to blur as I sat there, lost in thought. Then, a shadow fell across me. Startled, I looked up to find Theo's hesitant gaze. Surprise momentarily rendered me speechless.
"Can I sit?" he asked, his voice laced with a vulnerability I hadn't seen before. A silent nod was all I could manage.
He lowered himself beside me, leaning back against the tree trunk. The silence between us was thick, heavy with unspoken emotions. My gaze drifted across the field, a silent plea for him to break the tension.
"The night before it happened…" he began, his voice thick with emotion, "I promised your brother I'd take care of you."
My head snapped towards him, surprise etching across my face.
"I promised," he continued, meeting my gaze. "That's why I tried so hard to push you away. I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you, of failing him."
A wave of guilt washed over me. "Theo…" I began, but he cut me off, his hand reaching out to clasp mine.
"It didn't work, though, did it?" he said, a wry smile playing on his lips. "I told myself I should only see you as a sister, but I couldn't. And that scared me. So I tried to push you away, as much as it hurt me"
"it did hurt me too y/n," he admitted. "The moment you kissed me…everything changed. I didn’t know you felt the same. It, and it scared me. I needed to regain control."
A lump formed in my throat as he revealed his turmoil. "Then the kiss," he continued, his voice barely a rasp. "Everything changed. I didn't know you felt that way, and I panicked. Tried to regain control."
A tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down my cheek. "When Blaise brought you in... this night" he continued, his eyes searching mine, "I was a wreck. I felt like I'd betrayed your brother, tainted something so pure."
"What I did after, it was unfair. Unforgivable. You're not just another girl, Y/N. You're the only one. The only one I want. And even if it takes a lifetime to make things right, I will. Because I love you. I can't hide it anymore."
Tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. "I didn't mean anything I said at the beach," I confessed. "I just... I wanted to hurt you like you hurt me."
He reached out, his hand gently cupping my face. "We messed up," i said, "We hurt each other."
Tears escaped, tracing warm paths down my cheeks. "But maybe we can fix it," I whispered, a sliver of hope flickering within me.
He brushed away my tears, his touch so soft . "I deserve the pain," he say,"But you don't. I'm so sorry, Y/N. So sorry for everything."
A bittersweet smile spread across my face. "I love you too," I confessed, the words tumbling out like a long-held secret. It felt surreal, a dream come true whispered on the wind.
He leaned in slowly, his lips brushing mine in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a perfect collision of emotions – tenderness, passion, and a promise of a new beginning. He deepened the kiss, pulling me onto his lap, our bodies aligning perfectly.
When he pulled away, his eyes sparkled with an intensity that sent a jolt through me. "Give me a chance," he pleaded. "To make things right. I'll never hurt you again. I don't deserve forgiveness, but I'm begging for it. Please, let me make it up to you."
"I forgave you already," I admitted, "but can you say it again? Just to be sure I didn't imagine it."
A smile, genuine and heartfelt, softened his features. He leaned back in, his lips whispering the words against mine, "I love you, Y/N L/N."
My heart soared. "I think I might die happy right now," I joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Suddenly, a nagging thought surfaced. "But what about Lana? We need to tell her."
Theo's smile faltered for a moment. "Believe me, she knows," he said with a sigh. "Apparently, she's celebrating you being her 'sister' and even thanked me for it."
I couldn't help but laugh. It sounded like something Lana would do. "Of course, that sounds like her,"
Suddenly, a playful glint sparked in his eyes. "Now," he drawled, a hint of jealousy lacing his voice, "about that Italian boy?"
I couldn't help but burst into laughter. Leaning in, I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest. "There's nothing to worry about," I mumbled against his shirt.
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through me. "Good," he said, his arms tightening around me in a possessive hug. "Because I was planning a little trip to Italy."
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
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stylesharrys · 8 days
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Y/N’s never been with a man like Harry before. (Blurb)
A/N: I haven’t posted any content on here for a while (but I’m working on it I promise), so here’s a little blurb for you darlings — I’m also opening up requests again so if you have any blurb ideas, feel free to send them in <3
//
For as long as she could remember, Y/N had always done everything when it came to relationships. The cooking, the cleaning, the date planning — all of it. It was never like that in the beginning, of course. Most men would love-bomb and tell her everything she wanted to hear. She’d never realise until it was too late.
That’s how it always happened.
And yet, she always allowed herself to forget those signs whenever she met someone new. Always told herself that it wasn’t fair to pre-judge anybody and that perhaps that’s just how they were and it wasn’t an act.
It was foolish, really — her way of thinking. Because time and time again, they always proved her wrong, always left her feeling alone and unappreciated until she finally bucked up the courage to call it quits and leave.
She tried to be more weary of it when she met Harry. She found herself mentally scrutinising every word he spoke, every promise he made. She’d lock everything away in a safe in her mind that she’d go back through if he ever slipped up or started showing signs that he wasn’t who he portrayed himself to be when they first met.
But that day didn’t come, it still hadn’t.
In Y/N’s most recent relationship, she’d never been so low. She’d stupidly agreed to move in with James and from there, it went downhill pretty fast. He never cleaned up after himself, ever. His damp towels would be left on the bathroom floor, his empty beer bottles and candy wrappers would be left on the counter instead of in the bin, and the one time he did wash the dishes after dinner, he made a right cock out of it.
Weaponised incompetence was what she remembered her mother calling it. When somebody purposely carries out a task poorly as to not be asked to do it again.
He didn’t cook, had no idea how to use the washing machine and at one point made it blatantly clear that because he worked, he shouldn’t have to come home and do chores around the house after.
That was the cherry on top for her. Because Y/N worked, too. She worked the same kind of hours and still did everything in the home and cleaned up after him day in and day out.
When her and Harry first started dating, she kept her heart close to her chest. She was far too afraid of making the same mistakes as last time, of wasting time and energy into someone who isn’t willing to give her one-hundred percent back.
But Harry did.
Harry cooked on nights that Y/N cleaned and vice versa. She never once had to ask him to pick up his damp towel or put his rubbish in the bin. Harry just did these things. He changed the sheets on his own accord, he did more laundry than Y/N and he enjoyed a weekly Sunday deep clean with her, blaring music and lighting a candle at the end of it.
Tonight was no different. She came home from work a little later than usual and dinner was already waiting for her on the table. Harry had remembered she texted earlier in the day that she was feeling under the weather, and prepared her some chicken soup with buttered rolls for as soon as she got home.
A bubble bath was run and fresh pyjamas were warming in the dryer. The floors had been hoovered and mopped, the laundry was folded and hung in the wardrobes and the trash had been taken out.
The realisation of something that happened every day hit her tonight for some reason. Perhaps because Harry picked up the chores she typically did as well, or maybe because he thought of her and did the dinner and bath to make her life a little easier.
Either way, it had tears stinging her vision and her heart thumping. It was silly, really. She was getting emotional over her partner doing the bare minimum — him pulling his weight and keeping their home clean.
“What’s a’matter?” His gentle voice cooed from across the table.
Y/N smiled tearily, taking a bite out of her roll as she shook her head. She didn’t want to make a thing out of this — she knew he’d only laugh at her and call her a numpty. (Which in this instance, she was.)
“Nothing, I just appreciate this a lot,” she swallowed her food as the tears began to dry.
Harry squinted at her, not quite buying what she was saying. “Y’sure? If the soups bad, you can be honest and tell me. Promise I won’t get too upset.”
She laughed at him, shaking her head. “I just hope you know how much I appreciate and acknowledge what you do in our home and our relationship. Thank you for not leaving everything on my shoulders.”
Harry’s face softened into one of adoration, like he couldn’t believe she was thanking him for doing what any responsible adult should. But he understood. She’d told him about her exes, about how she felt like their mother ninety percent of the time.
Harry couldn’t imagine ever being like that.
“I appreciate and acknowledge everything you do, too. Know you’ve had a rough day, didn’t want you coming home to stuff to do. You can have your soup, take a long bath and I even charged your Kindle.”
Y/N smiled at him, lovingly. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you,” Harry’s words were sincere, and she knew he meant what he said. “Oh, and I cancelled the plumber for tomorrow, so you can still get your nails done.”
She frowned, finishing the last of her soup. “Why? Did he come out today?”
“No,” Harry shook his head. “I sorted it.”
Y/N quirked a brow. “Sorted it as in…”
“As in I fixed the leak. You don’t need to hire maintenance people for the house, babe. If you notice something needs fixing just let me know and I’ll sort it.”
His statement shouldn’t have made her feel hot inside but it did. A man that would actively repair their house and not batter an eye or complain about it? That would do it without being asked?
Now, why the fuck did that turn her on?
//
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disneyprincemuke · 6 months
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the other woman * mv1
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everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at
pairings: max verstappen x fem!reader
warnings: cheating, jake gyllenhaal type behaviour
notes: hi i know i promised this on xmas eve and then i failed to deliver mY BAD BABY GIRLS! i am trying my best but then again i did get a fever and all but its ok lfg and NO I WILL NOT BE WRITING A PART TWOOOOO
(f1 masterlist)
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your eyes watch your front door, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you try to hold yourself back from crying. there's a sob bubbling from the deepest part of your gut as you glance at the clock one more time.
he's late.
but one can also say that he's simply not coming. did he lie when he told you that he would make sure he showed up for you this time? or did he just simply forget about you again?
your eyes have been staring at that door for the better part of the last hour or so since guests started arriving for the party you'd thrown.
a party you'd thrown, admittedly, just to get his attention. you were never one to make a big deal of your birthday anyway, but he made you think otherwise. because he promised you that he would be here no matter what happened. it's stupider that he was the one that encouraged you to throw a party today.
only for him not to show up?
this is the one time you needed him to so desperately show up for you. but here you are, looking like a fool waiting for somebody who wouldn't come; for somebody who didn't even make you a first choice.
because you know that when if push comes to shove, he would still pick her. max would always pick kelly and penelope over you, no matter how much he tells you that he loves you. no matter how many times you endured him telling you that he no longer wants to be with her.
you know better than to be his little secret. your parents had not raised you to be a potential homewrecker, but are you really being one if he's the one that keeps coming back to you?
you've tried staying away, and you've attempted to cut all sorts of contact with him, but he eventually crawls right back to you a couple of weeks later claiming that he will break up with kelly soon.
you've even bought a new dress for the occasion; in max's favourite colour and a cut that you knew he would say you look amazing in.
only for him to bail on you. you'd even taken the effort to sit for an hour to do your makeup and hair. for nothing, essentially.
fast forward a couple of hours of holding back tears and forcing smiles, you're hunched over the couch, picking up empty beer cans and tears streaming down your face. at the end of the day, you're left alone in your apartment with a heavy heart and the eerie silence the room can only offer you.
you watch the last car from your guests drive away. you sigh and throw yourself on the couch, finally letting the tears fall from your eyes. you had no idea it was so difficult to pretend like you're okay until today.
it's totally different when it's got something to do with the heart, it seems. you were totally banking on the fact that he would be here today, at least today. just today. because it's your birthday.
it's your day.
a knock on the door sits you right up, hands darting up to wipe the tears that smudged your makeup. "give me a second!"
"it's just me."
the anger suddenly hits you. so he is available to travel out to come and see you. just not a couple of hours prior when everybody else was here? just not at the time when you actually wanted him to be here?
you stomp your way over to the door and swing the door open and a string of apologies quickly spill from his mouth. you immediately notice the wrapped present in his hand and the bouquet of flowers.
"i'm sorry, i got held up at home," max apologises with a frown. "p had a fever and she wouldn't go to bed unless i tucked her in. i'm sorry, i know i'm late."
you sigh, rolling your eyes. "you're not just late," you scowl, "you missed the party entirely, max."
"oh," he slumps his shoulders, "i was wondering why it was so quiet when i was walking up."
you shake your head and walk further into your apartment. "max, just go home. you don't have a reason to be here."
"what do you mean? it's your birthday," he says gently, following you in. he closes the door behind him and follows you into your living room. "is there still cake? maybe you can blow the candles with me before the day ends? i even got you a present."
"no, i let people take home pieces of the cake," you say softly, returning to your agenda of cleaning your home from the traces of the party your friends left. "what am i going to do with cake that i don't even eat?"
"you bought chocolate cake on your birthday? you don't even like chocolate," he points out softly. "nevermind that, i got you a present!"
"i don't give a fuck about your stupid present, max!" you burst, standing up and turning to finally face him. "i didn't ask for a fucking present! i asked you for one thing and you couldn't even do that!"
he stares at you, dumbfounded with his lips parted in shock at your outburst. you're not typically one to have outbursts, which is the one thing he claims he finds very refreshing about you. you're calm and collected most of the time, and you assess the situation before picking fights. "p was sick. what did you want me to do?"
"you're telling me you're a sole parent to this little girl?" you ask. "kelly couldn't have tucked her in so you could show up to the party that you asked me to throw? on my birthday? max, you had one job and it was to show up for me tonight! i waited for you all night!"
he seems to have lost all ability to speak because he just pulls out a chair from your dining table and takes a seat. "i'm sorry. you're right, i should have been here."
"seriously, max! are you actually ever going to leave them or do you just lie straight through your teeth whenever you tell me that?" she scolds him, throwing her arms in the air. "i'm not stupid, max! this has gone on long enough!"
"i am, and i will!" he answers you, running his hands through his hair. "i just need more time. there's a child involved, i really hope you understand. i can't just leave."
"you say that every single time! it's been seven months!" you cry. "you've made me the other woman for seven long months! am i supposed to just sit here and take that? just because i love you?"
"i do love you! but it's complicated, okay? i can't just leave p like this!"
you clench your jaw. how many times have you heard that excuse in the past year? and how many more times will you be fooled by the sweetness in his voice and his glistening blue eyes? "max, i think you should go. lose my number, and forget that i ever existed. i can't do this anymore."
his head snaps up to you. he quickly walks over to you, throwing his arms around you from behind. "wait, don't say that. please, i promise. i'll leave in the next month. don't leave me. i really don't love her anymore."
"i'm so tired of the lies, max," you sigh, desperately tearing his arms away from your body. you take a step back and turn to him. "you will always choose them over me. it doesn't matter how much you love me, max. you're too attached to them to leave."
"listen to me, okay? i will leave them. and then we can be happy together like we talked about all those nights we spent together," max coos, putting his hands on your shoulder. he bends down slightly to look into your eyes. "please, just give me one last chance - more time. i just need time. i will let p down easily and i'll leave kelly. please."
"i don't know how many more times you think you can fool me with that lie, max!" you frown, shoving him back. "just leave! leave me alone! i refuse to let you make me look like an idiot! i'm better than this."
"i thought you said you understood my predicament. with p in the picture..."
"yeah, for seven long months. do you know how many days that is? how many hours i'd spend with you wondering when you'd finally take me off the backseat and make me your own officially?" you throw your head back and a dry laugh passes your lips. "max, just leave. don't call me again."
"you don't really mean that."
"i do this time," you say firmly, turning around to face him.
you circle around him and walk over to your front door, pulling it open and gesturing towards the hallway. "i'm done. take your flowers and your stupid present and leave."
he does what you say, hesitantly. he keeps his eyes on you, hoping that you will immediately change your mind. he travelled this far to get to you, hoping that you would somehow forgive him for missing your birthday party.
but you're right, now that he's had a couple of seconds to think about it. in the past seven months, he's told you that he'd up and leave kelly and penelope so he can finally be with you openly. it's much harder to keep you in the shadows when everyone's got eyes on him all the time.
perhaps it's the attachment to penelope that he can't get himself to pack his things and call it a day. he genuinely does love that kid. and his girlfriend has her good days - not all make him want to pull at his hair in frustration anymore.
but he also really does love you. if there hadn't been a loveable child in the picture, one that's grown very attached to him, he would have been able to walk away months ago. it could've been that easy.
"just hear me out," max says, stopping right by the door and giving you one last pleading look. "don't leave. not like this. we haven't even had a real fighting chance."
"that's because of you. not me," you answer dryly, looking up at him. "just go. i can't keep having this conversation with you."
"please."
"i gave you too many chances to make this right," you sigh, putting a gentle hand on his back to guide him out the door. you press your lips together as a lump forms in your throat. you're more shocked that you hadn't fully started bawling moments ago. "i should have done this a long time ago."
"i'm sorry."
"i'm sure you are. too little too late." then you close the door on him and whatever could have been with max.
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flowercrowngods · 5 months
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who did this to you. part 3
🤍🌷 read part 1 here | read part 2 here pre-s4, steve whump, protective (but scared) eddie. now with robin!
The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now. 
Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.
Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard. 
The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work. 
“H— Hi, hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“ 
“Oh, of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone. 
Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened? 
“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself by the sound of it. 
He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)
“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”
“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?” 
No. “Thanks.” 
The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening. 
He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she— 
“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees. 
He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again. 
“Hi.” 
“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“ 
“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.” 
That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe. 
The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again. 
“What about Steve.” 
Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth. 
“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.” 
“He… He’s hurt.” 
There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.” 
“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“ 
“I am. Coming. Over,” she says, enunciating every word as though she were making a threat. Maybe she is. But the certainty in her voice helps a little, anchors him the same way that Wayne’s calmness did. “And you tell me everything.” 
Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now. Knowing that he doesn’t want to stop her. 
“‘Kay.” It’s a pathetic little sound, all choked up and tiny. She doesn’t comment on it. 
One second he hears her determined exhale, the next she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall. 
Breathing is hard again, but it’s all he has to do now, all that’s left to do, so he focuses. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. His lungs are burning and there’s something wrong about the way he pulls in air and keeps it there, desperately latching onto it until the very last second, his exhales more of a gasping cough than calm and controlled. 
It takes a while. Longer than it should. But with Harrington’s blood still on his hands, with his heartbeat in his ears so loud he can’t even hear the words Wayne used to say about breathing in through the mouth or the nose or… or something, he— 
He’s fine. He’s home. Wayne’s got Blue, and Buckley is on her way, and… He’s fine. 
People don’t just die. 
They don’t. 
He’s fine. 
Eventually, Eddie manages to breathe steadily, the air no longer shuddering and his hands no longer shaking. It’s stupid, really, being so worked up over someone he doesn’t even really know. Sure, everyone knows Steve fucking Harrington, and everyone sees Steve fucking Harrington — whether they want it or not. He has a way of drawing eyes toward him even if all he does is walk the halls with his dorky smile and that stupidly charming swagger he’s got going on. Always matching his shoes to his outfit.
Eddie can relate.
Always reaching out to touch the person he’s talking to; clapping their back or shoulder, lightly shoving them in jest, ruffling their hair or chasing them through the halls, moving and holding himself like teenage angst can’t reach him. Like he belongs wherever he goes. Like he’s so, so comfortable in his own skin. Like the clothes he wears aren’t armour but just a part of him; a means of self-expression. 
Again, Eddie can relate. He can relate to all of this. 
It’s almost like the two of them aren’t so different after all. Just going about it differently. 
And now he’s… Bleeding. Slurring his speech. Wheezing his breath. And Eddie feels protective. Eddie feels responsible. Like he should be there, like he should get to know more about him. About Steve. About Blue. 
But he can’t. And he won’t. So he gets up with a groan that expresses his frustration and the need to make a sound, to fight the oppressive silence that only encourages his thoughts to run in obsessive little circles, and he hangs up the phone that’s been dangling beside him all this time. 
He needs a smoke. 
He needs a smoke and a blunt and a drink and for this day to be over and for time to revert and to leave him out of whatever business he stumbled into by opening the door to the boathouse and, apparently, Steve Harrington’s life. 
But unfortunately, the universe doesn’t seem to care about what he needs, because just as he steps outside and goes to light his cig, he catches sight of a harried looking Robin Buckley, standing on the pedals of her bike as she kicks them, her hair blowing in the wind to reveal a frown between her brows. A wave of unease overcomes Eddie, an unease he can’t really place. Maybe it’s the set of her jaw, or the tension in her shoulders, or maybe it’s the worry and anger she exudes. 
It never occurred to him before that Robin Buckley might not be a person you’d want to set off. And not because of her uncontrollable rambles. 
“Munson!” she calls over, carelessly dropping her bike in the driveway and stalking toward him. 
Almost as if summoning a shield, Eddie does light the cigarette. Pretends like the smoke can protect him. 
She doesn’t stop at the foot of the steps, though, climbs them in two leaps and gets all up in his space with that unwavering look of determination — so unwavering, in fact, that it almost looks like wrath. Cold. Eddie wants to shrink away from it, not at all daring to wonder what could make her look like that upon hearing that Steve’s hurt. 
I don’t wanna die, Munson. I never… I didn’t. With the monsters or the torture.
But those are the words of a semi-conscious teenage boy beat to a pulp, they can’t— There’s no way. Eddie misheard him, or Steve was talking about some kind of inside joke, using the wrong terminology with the wrong guy. It happens. It happens when you’re out of it, really! The shit he’s said when he was shot up, canned up, all strung out and high as a kite… He’d be talking of monsters, too, and mean some benign shit. 
But the way Harrington looked, none of that was benign. The bruising all over his face, the blood still dripping from the wound by his temple or his nose, the way he held himself, breath rattling in his lungs, or— 
“Hey!” Buckley demands his attention, giving him a light shove; just enough to catch his attention, really, and just what he needed to snap out of it. Still the smoke hits his lungs wrong and he coughs up a lung, further cementing his role of the pathetic little guy today. 
“Hey,” he says lamely, his voice still croaking as he crushes the half-smoked cigarette under his boot. “Sorry.” He doesn’t know for what. But it feels appropriate. 
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him as she crosses her arms in front of her chest. 
“Tell me,” she says at last, and even though there is a tremor in her voice, she sounds nothing short of demanding. “I want the whole story, and I want it now.” 
And so he does. He tells her everything, bidding her inside because he needs the relative safety of the trailer even though the air in here is stuffy and still faintly smells blue. He pours them both some coffee and some tea, because asking what she wants doesn’t feel right in the middle of telling her how he found her supposed best friend beat to shit in the boathouse he went to to forget about the world for a while. 
She stills as she listens to him, staring ahead into the middle distance somewhere beneath the floor and the walls, her hands wrapped around the steaming mug of coffee. Eddie stumbles over his words a lot, unsettled by her stillness, her lack of reaction. She doesn’t even react to his fuck-ups. People usually do.
He wants to ask. Where are you right now? What have you seen? What’s on your mind? What the fuck is happening?
But he doesn’t ask, instead he tells her more about Steve. About how he seemed to forget where he was. About the pain he was in. About the smiles nonetheless. The way he reassured Eddie. 
That one finally gets a choked little huff from her, somewhere between a sob and a laugh. 
“Yeah, that sounds like him alright. He’s such a dingus.” 
There is so much affection in her voice as she says it that Eddie can’t help but smile into his mug. 
“Dingus?” he asks, hoping for some lightness, hoping to keep it. 
But the light fades, and her eyes get distant again. Eddie wants to kick himself. 
“Just a stupid little nickname. An insult, really.”
“Oh.” He doesn’t know what to do with that. If he should ask more or if he should say that he has a feeling Steve might appreciate stupid little nicknames. Especially if they’re unique. Especially if they’re for him. But what right does he have to say that now? What knowledge does he have about Steve Harrington that Robin doesn’t? 
So he bites his tongue and drinks his coffee, cursing the silence that falls over them as Robin mirrors him, albeit slow and stilted, like she doesn’t know what to do either. Or where to put her limbs. 
“Wayne’s got him now. I took him here, after the boathouse, because I didn’t know what to do. He said he didn’t want the hospital, said there’s…” He trails off. 
Robin looks at him, her eyes wary but alert. “Said there’s what?” 
It’s stupid. Don’t say it. 
“Eddie?” 
With a sigh, he puts his mug on the counter and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “He said there’s monsters. In the hospital, I mean. He said that.”
Instead of scoffing or at least frowning, Robin clenches her jaw and nods imperceptibly, her eyes going distant again. Eddie blinks, the urge to just fucking ask overcoming him again, but with every passing second he realises that he doesn’t actually want to ask. He doesn’t want to know, let alone find out. 
He just… He just wants to go to bed. Forget any of this ever happened. But he can’t do that, so he continues. 
“Brought him here and Wayne took one look at him and convinced him he needed a doctor. And, Jesus H Christ, he was right. I’ve never… I mean, those things don’t happen,” he urges, balling his hands into fists even in the confined space of his pockets. “Right? I mean… Shit, man.” He bumps his shoe into the kitchen counter; gently, so as not to startle Buckley out of her fugue like state. 
“You’d be surprised,” she rasps, staring into the middle distance again and slowly sinking to the floor. There is a tremor in her shoulders now, barely noticeable, but Eddie knows where to look. Without really thinking about it, he grabs two of his hoodies he’d haphazardly thrown over the kitchen chairs this morning while deciding on his outfit and realising that it was altogether too warm for long sleeves today. But now, right here in this kitchen, the air tinged with blue, they’re both freezing. 
Because fear and worry will take all the warmth right from inside of you and leave you freezing even on the hottest day of the year. 
She barely looks at him when he holds out his all-black Iron Maiden hoodie to her, freshly washed and all that, but she takes it nonetheless, immediately pulling it on. It’s way too large on her, her hands not showing through the sleeves, her balled fists safe and warm inside the fabric. It would make him smile if only it didn’t highlight her stillness, her faraway stare, and the years he has on her. She’s, what, two years younger than him? Three? 
It seems surreal. Everything, everything does. 
Robin Buckley in his home, sitting on his kitchen floor, swallowed by a hoodie that is a size too large even for him, but it was the last one they had in the store and he doesn’t mind oversized clothes, can just cut them shorter when the need arises or layer them or declare them comfort sweaters for when he wants to just have his hands not slip through the sleeves on some days. And now Robin is wearing his comfort hoodie because her best friend was bleeding in his car earlier and then on his couch and now in his uncle’s car, and they never even talk, but he knows that Robin’s favourite colour is blue, but not morning hour blue because that makes her sad; only deep, dark blues. 
Her favourite colour. Her favourite person. 
It’s so fucking surreal. 
He drops down beside her, leaving enough space between them so neither of them feels caged, and mirrors her position: knees to his chest, chin on his forearms. Staring ahead. 
And silence reigns. 
“Your uncle,” she says at last, finally breaking the silence that’s been grating on Eddie’s nerves and looking at him, really looking as she rests her cheek on her forearms crossed over her knees. “Tell me about him.” 
There is a gentleness to her voice now despite how hoarse it is. Maybe she’s just tired, too. And scared. At least the shivering has stopped. 
Still Eddie frowns, confused as to why she should be breaking the silence to ask about Wayne when everything today has been about Harrington. About Steve. About deep and dark blues. 
“Uncle Wayne?” he asks. “Why?”
“Because,” she begins, and sighs deeply, works to get the air back in her lungs. Eddie wants to reach out, but instead he just clenches his fingers a little deeper into the fabric of his hoodie. “My best friend is hurt very badly and the only person with him is your uncle, and I need to know that he’s in good hands. Or I swear to whatever god you may or may not believe in, and granted, it’s probably the latter, but still I swear I’ll give into my arsonist tendencies and burn down this city, starting with your trailer if you don’t tell me that your uncle is a good man who will do anything in his power to make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs. And deserves.” 
Her jaw is set and her bottom lip trembles, but it doesn’t take away from the absolute sincerity in her threat. 
“So, please,” she continues, her voice breaking just a little bit. “Tell me. Tell me about your uncle.” 
Tell me about your favourite person. 
Eddie swallows, and mirrors her position once more, so she can see his eyes and know he’s sincere. Because he’s learned something about eyes today, about how much in the world can change if only you have a pair of eyes to look into. 
And he nods, looking for somewhere to start. “He’s the best man I know. He’s the best man you’ll ever meet.”
She clings to his eyes. Searches them for the truth, beseeching them not to lie. He lets her. 
“Took me in when I was ten, because my dad’s a fuck-up and my mom’s a goner. Took me in again when I was twelve after I ran away. Makes me breakfast and I pretends the dinner I make him is more than edible.” He smiles a little, because how could he not? “He’s my uncle, but still he’s the best parent anyone could wish for. Writes those little notes that he sticks to the fridge, y’know, the one with the smiley face? Tells me to eat, because I forget sometimes. I tell him to drink water, because he forgets. First few years, he’d read to me. And the man’s a shit reader, has some kind of disability I think, and at some point I learned that he wasn’t reading at all. He was telling me stories all the time, conning me into thinking that the books were magic, and that every time I’d try to read the book for myself, the story would change.” 
There’s a lump in his throat now, and his eyes sting again. But Robin doesn’t seem to fare any better than him if her wavering smile is any indication. 
“There’s no one,” Eddie continues, “who will make you believe in magic quite like uncle Wayne. Or in good things. And d’you wanna know what he told Blue when he said he was scared of going to the hospital?” 
Sniffling, Robin shakes her head. 
“He said, Okay. Then we do it scared. And all of that after he just… with that patience he has, told him everything that was gonna happen. And that he’d be there with him through it all. That he knew the doc and wouldn’t let anyone else near him, and that there’s no need to be scared at all.” 
He sighs, breathes, stills. Swallows, before looking back at Robin. 
“So, if there’s one person who’ll make sure that boy gets the help and care he needs and deserves…” 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Robin finishes his sentence, her voice still hoarse, but Eddie likes to think it’s for a different reason now. 
“It’s uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, nodding along as he does. 
There is something like understanding in Robin’s eyes now, and Eddie hopes it’s enough. Enough to calm the spiking of her nerves, enough to settle the coil of freezing nausea that must reside in the pit of her stomach, enough to let the next breath she takes feel a little more like it’s supposed to be there. 
He wants to say something more, wants to reach out and reassure her that everything will be okay, but he can’t know that. He doesn’t feel like it’s entirely true, let alone appropriate right now. 
There’s something in Robin’s eyes, in the way she holds herself, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like she accepts his words at face value but doesn’t really believe them. Like she’ll only rest when she’s got her best friend back in her arms and hears the story — the whole story — from him. 
And Eddie doesn’t fault her, because the thing is, he doesn’t know what happened. Steve said that Hagan came at him, but that’s really all he got out of him before he started talking about death and shit, and Eddie really didn’t want to ask any more questions then. 
So they sit there for a while, the silence oppressive and unwelcome, clumsy and awkward; Robin’s mouth opening and closing a lot, like she wants to ask questions but doesn’t dare to ask them — and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s glad about it or not. Doesn’t know if he wants to hear the kind of questions asked with that kind of stare. 
It is only after a long while, when Robin’s shoulders start shaking again and she buries deeper into the hoodie and her own spiralling thoughts, that Eddie breaks the silence again, replaying in his head the last moment between him and Steve. 
“He’s not gonna break,” he tells her, aiming for gentle and reassuring. 
What he doesn’t expect is the minute flinch, the jolt shooting through her body and the pained expression it leaves her with. What he doesn’t expect is what she says next. 
“You know,” she begins, her voice as far away as her eyes, and it’s like she doesn’t even know she’s speaking. “Sometimes I wish he would.” 
What?
Eddie blinks, swallowing hard.
“Just for, just for a break. Just so he can rest. Let the rest take over for a while.” 
That… He doesn’t— What the hell does that even mean? 
“Like maybe then the world would… snap back.” She snaps her fingers, just once. This time it’s Eddie who flinches. “And everything bad would disappear. But it won’t. And he won’t.” She swallows. Then quietly, almost inaudible, “He won’t break.” 
And the way she says it… It was reassuring before. And now it feels like a burden. A curse. 
Who the fuck are you, Steve Harrington? And you, Robin Buckley. 
Eddie shudders, knowing he doesn’t want the answer to that anymore. He doesn’t want the questions either. So he buries his face in his hands, closes his eyes, and breathes. The adrenaline has worn off by now, the repeated panicking that added fuse to the fire has ceased now, leaving him worn out and strung out, tired and exhausted. He pulls up the hood, burrowing into the warmth. 
And then he stills. His usually twitching, fumbling, fiddling body falling entirely still beside Buckley. 
It’s like time stops for a while there, even though Eddie knows that it’s dragging ever on and on. He’s inclined to let it, though. He’s too tired, too exhausted to really care about what time may or may not be doing. 
“Why’d you call me?” 
It takes a while for Eddie to realise that Robin’s spoken again, asked him a question out loud, the cadence of it different to the endless circles of questions Eddie’s got stuck in his head since the early afternoon tinged in blue against crimson. 
He lifts his head, tucking his hands underneath his chin, and looks over at Buckley. Her hair is dishevelled now, her mascara smudged and crusty. Her lipstick is almost all gone, with the way he sees her biting and chewing on her lips. 
“I… It seemed like the right thing to do, y’know? He kept repeating your number. In the car, it was like… Sounds dramatic, but it was like his lifeline, almost. Repeated it so often it kinda got stuck.” He shrugs. “Seemed important, too.”
Robin frowns; a careful little thing. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Well, he just talked about you. Y’know. Tell me about your favourite person, I told him, because that’s the thing you gotta do to keep people, like, talking to you. Not shit about what day it is, or what. Just, y’know. Let them talk about things they like. Things they’ll wanna tell you about. ’N’ he talked about you.” 
She’s quiet for a while, letting his words sink in. And Eddie wonders if she knew. That she’s his favourite person. If he ever told her. If maybe he took that from him now. It’s a stupid thing to worry about, really; the boy was bloodied and bruised on his couch just an hour ago, there are worse things at hand for Eddie to worry about. But now he wonders if he just spilled some sort of secret. Some sort of love confession. 
“Did you, I mean… Are you guys, like, dating? Did I just steal his moment?” 
Robin huffs, but it’s more like a smile that needs a little more space in the room, a little more air to really bloom. It’s fond. She shakes her head, her eyes far away again, but closer somehow. 
“Nah,” she says, and the smile is in her voice, too. Eddie kind of likes her voice like that. “We’re platonic. Which is something I’d never thought I’d say. Not about Steve Harrington, y’know?” 
And the way she drags out his name… Eddie can relate. Like it means something, but like what it means is nowhere close to reality. Nowhere close to what it really means. Nowhere close to Blue. 
Robin sighs, the sound more gentle than it should be, and leans her head against the cabinet behind her. “We worked together over summer break. Scoops Ahoy.” Her voice does a funny thing, and her eyes glaze over as she pauses. Eddie waits, his lips tipped up into a little smile, too; to match hers. 
“What, the ice cream parlour?” 
Robin hums, her smile widening at what Eddie guesses must be memories of chaos and ridiculousness. “I wanted to hate him,” she continues. “But try as I might, he wouldn’t let me. Or, he did. He did let me. Just, it turns out, there’s no use hating Steve Harrington, not when he’s so… So endlessly genuine. There’s nothing to hate, y’know? And then he…” 
She stops, her mouth clicking shut as her eyes tear up a little. The Starcourt fire. Eddie remembers the news, remembers the self-satisfied smirk when he’d heard about it, remembers sticking it to the Man and to capitalism and to the idea of malls over supporting your friendly neighbourhood businesses. 
Guilt and shame overcome him as he realises that they must have been in there when it happened. 
“He saved your life?” 
Robin’s eyes snap toward him, wide and caught, and Eddie raises his hands in placation. 
“In the fire? Were you there?” 
“Y—yeah.” She swallows hard, avoiding his eyes. “The fire. He saved me. Yeah.” 
Eddie nods, deciding to drop that topic right there; to lay it on the ground as gently as he can and cover it with bright red colours so he never steps on it ever again. 
“He must be your favourite person, too, then, hm?” he steers the conversation back away into safer waters. 
“He is,” she says, sure and genuine and true. “It’s just. I don’t think I’ve ever been anyone’s favourite. He has a lot of people who care about him, you know? A lot of people he cares about. Even more numbers memorised in that stupidly smart head of his.” She huffs again, burrowing deeper into Eddie’s hoodie, pulling the sleeves over her hands some more. “It’s stupid, to be so hung up on this. Is it stupid?” 
“I don’t think it is,” Eddie says, scooting a little closer to Robin. “Like, I don’t even know that boy, right? But even I know that he’s got some ways to shift your focus or something. Give you a silver lining, or something to take the pain away even when he’s the one who… I don’t know, that’s probably stupid, too.” 
“Nah,” Robin says, scooting closer to him, too, until their sides are pressed together and she can lay her head on his shoulder. “It’s not stupid. You’re right; that’s Steve for you. ’S just who he is.” 
It is, isn’t it? 
You’re so blue, Stevie. 
She’ll say something corny when, when you ask her, jus’ to fuck with you. Sunset gold or rose, jus’ to mess with… But is blue.
Blue. ‘S nice. 
Yeah. Yeah, he is. 
Eddie lets his thoughts roam the endless possibilities and realities that is Steve Harrington, the depths he hides — or won’t hide, maybe, if you know how to ask. Where to look. 
Maybe he’ll find out, one of these days. Not about the terrible things that leave him scared of the hospital, not about the horrible things that have him speaking of death and dying like he’s accepted them as a possibility a long time ago. 
He swallows hard and shakes off these thoughts, because things like that just. They don’t happen. They don’t happen to blue-smiled boys who trust you to be kind even when they’re beaten straight to hell. And they sure as hell don’t happen when uncle Wayne’s around. 
Nothing bad has ever happened when uncle Wayne was around. 
And he wants to tell Robin, wants to make that promise. But part of him can’t bear the thought of being wrong. So he keeps his mouth shut and just sits with her, their heads as heavy as their hearts as they wait. 
The sun is long gone when the phone above him rings again, spooking and startling them out of their timeless existence. 
“Yeah?” he answers, his heart hammering in his chest. “Wayne?” 
“Hey, Ed,” Wayne’s voice comes through the phone like a melody. Calm and steady. Robin is scooting closer, and Eddie shifts the phone to accommodate her so they can both listen. Somehow, they ended up holding hands — and holding on hard. “We’re coming home now.” 
🤍🌷 tagging:
@theshippirate22 @mentallyundone @ledleaf @imfinereallyy @itsall-taken @simply-shin @romanticdestruction @temptingfatetakingnames @stevesbipanic @steddie-island @estrellami-1 @jackiemonroe5512 @emofratboy @writing-kiki @steviesummer @devondespresso @swimmingbirdrunningrock @dodger-chan @tellatoast @inkjette @weirdandabsurd42 @annabanannabeth @deany-baby @mc-i-r @mugloversonly @viridianphtalo @nightmareglitter @jamieweasley13 @copingmechanizm @marklee-blackmore @sirsnacksalot @justrandomfandomstm @hairdryerducks @silenzioperso @newtstabber @fantrash @zaddipax @cometsandstardust @rowanshadow26 @limpingpenguin @finntheehumaneater @extra-transitional (sorry if i missed anyone! lmk if you don't wanna be tagged for part 4 🫶)
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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months
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Hi! For your blurb weekend can I get #1 and #2 from the clumsy prompt list please?
Love your work 💜
here’s #2 for you babe!
“where did you get that bruise?” “I have a bruise?”
Steve was well aware of your proclivity of collecting small injuries. Bumps and bruises, watercolour blooms over your skin, paper cuts on your fingertips, scraped knees and the likes.
So he shouldn’t have sounded so surprised when he watched you tumble into his bed one night, his boxers ridden high around the plush of your thighs. His gaze narrowed in on your leg, just below your hip and partially hidden by his Calvin’s.
“Where did you get that bruise?”
You turned, already thumping the pillows with small fists, brows knitted together as you concentrated on getting comfy for bed. “Huh?” You peered down at your body, confused, even though you shouldn’t have been. “I have a bruise?”
Steve huffed, exasperated because the mark on your skin was spread wide over your upper thigh, mottling your skin tone with old blues and dark lavenders. “Baby—”
“What?” You dropped from your knees to your ass, forgetting the pillows, the mattress rocking as you raised your arms, elbows twisting as you tried to find the offending culprit. “Where?”
“Baby—” Steve tried again, a laugh caught in his throat and it coated his words with a sticky affection. “Christ, woman, c’mere, stop—”
You squeaked when Steve grabbed at you, one large hand wrapping around an ankle, pulling at you easily until you flipped onto your back. You were grinning as Steve fussed, tugging until you were half in his lap, your legs thrown over his and you only laughed harder when Steve hiked the leg of his underwear up your hip.
“Buy me dinner first, god—” you joked, but you let Steve do as he pleased, your cheek pressed to his sheets as you looked up at him and his frown.
“Dinner?” The boy laughed, rough and exasperated. “M’buyin’ you a bubble to live in.”
“You’re dramatic,” you told him huffily. “Is it big?”
Steve soothed his fingers over the mark, brows knitted on concern. He shouldn’t have been surprised that you had zero recollection of gaining your new bruise but it still made his heart ache a little. It looked like it should’ve been sore.
“Gargantuan,” Steve confirmed, a small smile on his face.
You snorted, stretching out until your pyjama shirt rose up over the soft of your stomach and your toes poked Steve’s pillow. “Big word.”
“For a big bruise,” Steve shot back mildly. He leaned down, hair tickling your leg as he pressed a soft kiss to the mark. “You gotta be more careful, babe.”
You wrinkled your nose, fond and aching with it as you stared up at Steve. He was pouting, fingers still stroking over your hip. You leaned up, nose nudging at the bridge of his until he tipped his head to you and let you kiss him sweetly.
“I’ll try,” you told him, words mumbled against his mouth. “For you.”
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aryxchse · 3 months
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the same type of blue. | percy jackson x daughter of hera! reader.
a / n : the history book on the shelf, is always repeating itself. and i won't shut up about how logan lerman and his wife being sally and poseidon in my head
warnings : emotional, i can't warm up to paul im sorry, sally and poseidon should've been an endgame but idek how, mentioning past, you looking like sally, crying, some of the hera cabin power mentions that i had in mind
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the moment sally jackson met you, was the moment she saw her teenage self in your eyes.
you were this funny and bubbly girl who was too nice for your own good. you had these mother instict in you that later she found out it was because of your mother being hera. you would always say what type of marriage you imagine with percy and how many kids do you want. one boy and one girl, doesn't matter who's the older. the girl was going to have percy's eyes, but the boy will have yours.
and it always put a smile on her face to listen you talk about your dreams so comfortly to her. because she saw herself in those dreams. they were once her dreams too.
percy looked and acted too much like poseidon for sally's own good. he would unknowingly make his dad's jokes, and would call you 'darling' like he did to her back then. all these little details would remind sally her past love.
it was a barbeque day for the jackson-blofis family at the montauk cabin. where you were obviously invited, and poseidon, obviously was not. he liked to show up in family gatherings once in a while, to spend some time with his son or suprisingly, estelle.
you and sally prepared the table as the boys made the meat while laughing at something. paul and poseidon had this awkward friendship that always made you giggle. and percy would chat with his biological dad more often, since he felt more comfortable with him. don't get me wrong, he loved paul. all of you loved paul. but poseidon's warm energy made him easier to talk.
you never thought you'd have a dinner with a god but here you were, eating a meal with one of the most powerful gods ever existed. poseidon was really good at making people forget that he's a god, the one that rules the seven seas.
after the dinner, percy and you started to clean the area as paul went inside to watch this new game he followed, you didn't really paid attention. sally stayed outside, smelling the sea's calming scent, her bare feet dipping in the sand.
she looked over were poseidon and estelle was playing. he made sand castles with her as he laughed like a true grandpa. it made sally chuckle too, seeing him acting all fatherly with her daughter.
"he wants to make up for it," you said, and it made sally slightly jump. you apologised while putting a hand on her shoulder. "you know, since he couldn't look out for percy and you."
sally's eyes started to water up, but she managed to crack a smile. "how do you know this?" she asked. you shrugged, "i can feel a parent's feelings, even if they're a god. weird power, i know." you chuckled at the end with her.
"he didn't had any choice," sally muttered, looking at the sea again. you nodded. "i know, but he still feels bad. he really loves you sally, still like the first time." your whispering words made sally want to breakdown right then and there, but she only sighed.
"baby!" percy called behind you, smiling like a little kid. you both turned around as you made your way to percy, giggling. once again, it reminded sally the good times. but she wasn't alone this time, poseidon could also see the similarities between them. how you had sally's hair back then like how she used it, and how percy was a literal copy of himself.
sally sat next to poseidon as he sat there silently, watching his son and his girlfriend chase eachother around the beach, just like he and sally did. estelle was asleep in his arms, the calm energy he radiated making the girl fall asleep immediatly.
"they're just like us." poseidon whispered, not looking at the woman he still loved. sally smiled, not that he would see. "yeah. but a better version." she responded.
"one that ends happily unlike us." he agreed, too afraid to look in her eyes. sally didn't said anything, and the past lovers watched their son having the time of his life with the girl he loved.
suddenly percy lifted you up on his shoulders and ran into the water with you, still being clothed. you whined the moment you swimmed up. "percy it's not fair!" you yelled at him between your giggles.
"m' wet too baby, see? there's nothing unfair in this!" percy laughed with her, hugging her waist tightly so that she won't slip away.
"you used to do that too," sally whispered to poseidon, smile hurting her cheeks at this point. poseidon mimicked her facial expressions as he nodded quickly.
"and you would always whine like her." he chuckled, making the woman laugh along with him.
percy stepped out from the water with the help of the waves, still holding you in his arms in bridal style. while he made his way into the cabin, he spinned you around once in a while to make you laugh.
"he's really your son." sally chuckled, watching the couple enter the cabin.
"he's our son." poseidon corrected. he finally faced the woman, and saw the tears perking in her eyes through a smile. this was sally jackson, the woman he loved the most. smiling through everything.
he made the tears go away with a flick of his hand, too afraid to touch her. "a proof that our love was real, not a dream i had."
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crystallilytarot · 4 months
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Choose a stuffie. Messages from your future partner
Pile 1 - panda
I think there will be a big change in your life before you two meet, or a big change is happening now. Your future partner said keep going. Please, don't give up. I know it's hard, but it will worth it, please, just keep trying, just hold on a little longer. Do it for me baby. I am coming sooner than you think. We will have a happy family together. (for some of you it can be pets too) We will be so happy, I promise you. All the things you dreamed about, it will be a reality soon. Our love is a little bit like a fairytale. We will also be best friends too. I love you so much! It's hard for me too, but we have to keep believing and keep going. I'm sending you a lot of kisses. Don't give up hope honey!
I also think number 6 and 9 can be significant here, and some water, a lake, beach, sand, and sunshine. Your life will be more happy when you meet. I think your partner and your story is wholesome, I almost teared up, it's beautiful.
Pile 2 - teddy
I feel that you and your partner both had some negative experiences when it comes to love. They said, they know what you are going through. They were betrayed and heartbroken too. They know they still have some issues they need to work on, but they feel better every day. I think they need a little more time, but they are not so far away. Or maybe physically far from you, I feel they live elsewhere or can be a foreigner too. Feels like their voice is a little distant. But I think they only have a little trust issue now, they are almost ready to open up again. And once they arrive, they will be an emotionally available, mature person, a good material for a relationship. They will be so understanding, caring, loving. They will be patient if you need time to anything. You can talk to them about anything literally. Once they are in your life, they will make a lot of efforts to sweep you off your feet, they want you and they will do everything to prove it for you. You both will be healed, everything forgotten, because it's like one in a lifetime kinda relationship. I honestly feel like nothing matters as long as you are there for each other. You are in a bubble, you are finally safe, you are loved. And they said they love you and never forget, that you are worthy. You are precious. And you are a real treasure for them! They want to send you a ❤️ too.
Also grey, numbers 3,6, and letters M or H can be significant.
Pile 3 - bunny
They are very proud of you. You are so strong, and you should be proud of yourself too. You are right when you stand up for yourself. Don't let anyone tell you what to do, it's your life! You two feels like a power couple. I think communication will be very good. They are someone who you can finally talk to. You are both so smart. They said nobody was in your level, so of course you wasn't a good match with anyone, because you are a gem. You deserve better. They also feels like someone who stand up for their loved ones and for what they believe. And if someone treats you wrong, they will have a word with them for sure. Also if you want to move to another place, they will help you with it. Or for some of you, if you want to change your job or something, they said do it. It can be scary, but it's needed, you should really do it. Maybe you feel lonely sometimes, and they know there are days when it's hard, but those people around you won't understand you. You're a high quality person, so you need someone high quality too, like them. They said you will definitely travel a lot, together and you will move to a place where you will be very happy, where you can be yourself. If you are in a toxic environment now, this new place will be so much better. A real home. And they also said that they will love your body very much, they will admire you.
Numbers 2 and 9 can be significant, also a long item, maybe a sword, a tree, and a crown. You will be the rich, elegant, high value couple from a fanfiction.
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thyln4gf · 2 months
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Darling, can I?
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✞ Confusing feelings - youre both lost, stuck and thinking about each other after the hookup. But its not a one-night stand if it turns into two, right?
✞ Word count - 1898
✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that i associate with this fic - "favorite" - Isabel LaRosa, "bad idea!" - Girl In Red, "attention" - Charlie Puth, "eat your young" - Hozier, "meddle about" - Chase Atlantic.
✞ Warnings - smut, mentions of alcohol.
✞ Lando Norris x reader
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Whiskey, expensive cologne, and dizzying passion.
Thats what he reminded you of. The image of him was burned into your brain permanently. Whenever whiskey washed over your tongue, memories of him would flash before your eyes. The way he had his tongue deep down your throat, mercilessly fighting with yours. The subtle flavour of whiskey and the cologne he used numbed your senses, almost making you forget your own name. No one has brought you to the heights he has by simply kissing you. No one, ever. And all that happened only once - yet, you couldnt help but let your mind linger on the memory. You kept it close to your chest, like something sweet and sacred. But you thought that he didnt feel the same - and you spent hours thinking about it. He was a famous figure, after all. You probably were just another pretty looking doll to him, something he could play with once and throw away. But did you care? No, not really. You knew that you could easily get anyone else. If you wanted to, that is.
Initially, Lando thought the exact same thing. That you were a pretty thing that he particularly enjoyed playing around with for a night. But, after you, hooking up with women simply didnt feel the same. He kept thinking of you and your scent. The way you looked at him (that look in your eyes was enough to make any mans knees buckle), and the way you made him feel. He was starting to regret his actions, as he found his heart making even more space for you and the feelings for you that have been bubbling up to the surface.
Today was no different - he was staring up at the ceiling, contemplating his life choices. It was approximately 7am, and all he could think about was you. Even when the pretty looking miss barbie he had in his bed tried talking to him - he found himself getting distracted. You just had a way of drawing people in, and barely even noticing it.
And, before he knew it, he was up on his feet, getting ready to leave the house. He had already escorted the blondie out of the door, and that was his last straw - as soon as the distraction left his space... he *had* to go and see you. He wasnt so sure if you would accept him, though. He felt like an ass. He used you and threw you away like something disposable. And he was sure that it was an uncomfortable experience to spot him out and about - monaco wasnt that huge, after all.
"Fucking hell..." he muttered under his breath, as he was currently failing to button up his shirt - his hands were shaking more than ever. He knew that you had options, and that so did he. But he was almost desperate to hold you in his arms.
-------
You were having another slow morning - the weight of your responsibilities was slowly, but surely, weighing you down. You had pulled yet another all nighter - your body is currently powered by hopes, prayers, and a load of canned caffeine. You were surprised by how you were still pulling through.
You were currently walking around with a textbook in your hands, hoping that the walking part is going to trick your body into staying awake. And it was actually working, honestly - despite your legs feeling like pieces of stone. The house was pretty quiet, too. One of the things that made you cherish living alone - peace and quiet.
But thats until you heard your doorbell ring. You werent expecting anybody, it was a Tuesday morning... you put the book down onto the kitchen table, and start making your way towards the front door.
You had a horrible habit of opening the door without peeking through the little hole. And you should have, atleast this time - because none other than Norris himself has made his appearance. You werent expecting such a sight, and so early. You werent expecting him to squeeze himself right past you into your house, either.
"What the fu - hello?" You calmly call out to him, your voice laced with confusion. However, you dont question it much, and close the door behind you. Lando almost looks grateful as you do so - almost as if he was expecting for you to kick him out.
He looks into your eyes, just like that. You can see him briefly licking his lips, and one of his hands going to the back of his neck, rubbing it. He looks away and takes a deep breath, before he can even say anything else. He had 'im nervous and overwhelmed' written all over him, in capital letters. But what is it? Only the sight of him made your heartbeat accelerate a tiny bit.
"I wanted to - ohhh..." he tries to speak up, but he sees you stepping closer to him. Your movements made him freeze in his spot. His breath got caught in his throat. In all honesty... when he looked into your eyes, all he could think about was that one night you spent together, and his confusion about his feelings towards you amplified. Your movements were slow enough to almost feel agonising, making him want to snap and break his composure.
Neither of you say a word, nothing. All he could see was you, and all you could see was him. You could almost imagine how his hot breath would feel on your neck, and in... other places.
But, besides your own thoughts, him struggling to breathe, and the distant ticking of the clock somewhere in the house, nothing else could be heard. The clock almost felt like a ticking bomb, a countdown of seconds until one of you snapped. Both of you knew what was coming a long, long time ago. It was just a question of when.
The silly little staring contest continued. But Lando couldnt keep to himself for much longer - he almost lunges towards you, planting his lips on yours like he was a drowning man, desperately trying to come up for air. You cant even describe the noise that just left your throat, though it was definitely one of surprise. But you quickly found yourself kissing him back, your hands immediately burying themselves into his hair, his snaking around your waist.
You both start losing yourselves, and pretty fast. All the energy and the longing spilled out, sending a wave of electricity throughout your body. You spent the past couple of weeks trying to ignore those thoughts. That maybe, just maybe - you liked him. Each and every of your doubts melted with zero effort as soon as you felt him squeeze your body against his, his fingertips clinging onto your clothes, desperately.
You werent sure of the speed you wanted this to be. As if sensing your confusion, Lando slips his arms a little lower, them now being wrapped around your hips. He didnt want to waste any time, nor he liked to do that. Suddenly, the feeling of being carried takes over - Lando has picked you up, and is about to pin you against the wall with his body.
The intensity he kisses you with increases as your body makes contact with the wall. You can feel his every muscle, hear all the sounds he's making. Hell, you think that you can even hear his heartbeat. You can feel a bite or two he makes on your lips, but youre too far gone for your brain to register it properly.
His body presses against you even harder, the feeling making you moan. You hear him chuckle - he's rather happy that he gets to see the wild side of you - youre always so calm, so... collected. He liked to joke that you were a rock in your past life. His hands leave your hips, now roaming all over your body. He always liked to explore - and this wasnt an exception.
Eventually, his hands start slipping under your shirt. His fingertips are a little calloused and rough from all the training and racing, but his palms were soft. His fingertips were still a little chilly from the air outside, and his palms felt almost disgustingly warm. The contrast between the textures and temperatures makes you shiver with pleasure. You cant help but imagine what they would feel like if he put them down your pants.
If you didnt believe in being able to read someone elses mind before... You were about to. Because you suddenly felt one of his hands slip lower, and lower, and lower. From your chest, down to your stomach, and down to the waistband of your pants. But he doesnt go further, for now - he pulls away slightly, to look up at you, his eyes filled with anticipation. He clearly wanted to ask if you really wanted this, for your permission to go further. He just couldnt find the right words - a part of him was scared as well.
You didnt know what to say either. You always struggled with talking about your feelings, leaving alone... these. All you could manage was crash your lips back onto his, even harder than before. A surprise groan leaves Landos throat, a moan - yours. He understood your message well, or so he hoped. He didnt want to misunderstand anything, even worse - hurt you.
His hand does end up in your pants, starting to slowly rub in all the right places. And, right at that moment, you can feel your brain disconnect from your own body - its almost like you were suddenly working on autopilot. You were almost ashamed to admit, but you could already feel yourself getting close. Something about him felt nothing like you have ever felt before, in all the right ways - his touch overwhelmed and turned you on at the same time.
Lando could feel your back trying to arch, and hear your moans getting louder. He smirks to himself - that didnt take long, he thought. Even faster than he would usually finish in.
The orgasm reaches you just seconds after. The wave felt hot, melting your insides and your inner thighs, as you moan into his mouth. Oh yeah, right - you two never stopped kissing each other during all of this. You simply couldnt be bothered to leave each others embrace. Well, you were basically forced, still pinned against the wall - but you didnt have any complaints. You barely had it in you to kiss him back anymore.
And he could feel it. He felt it. He pulled his face away from yours just a little, making eye contact with you. His hand that was in your pants just now comes up to his face, starting to lick the fingers clean. All while never losing the eye contact. For the first time in awhile, the sight in front of you made you blush.
Seeing your reaction, he chuckled, again. You were adorable. He hesitates slightly before speaking up.
"Could I be your favourite, darling? Can i?" He asks you, in the most gentle tone you have ever heard. The thought of it only makes you smile like an idiot.
'Youll know when you find the one', they said. And you always thought of it as bullshit. But right now? You were proved wrong. You were staring into this mans eyes and you could see the world.
Your favourite.
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xcherricutie · 3 months
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🌺 drift away 🌺
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[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]
[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]
[Word Count - 1.4k]
[Tags: Angst, songfic (I can't help myself)]
[Notes: My first Hazbin Hotel one shot. Still new to Tumblr, and new to writing one shots, I'm used to writing longer form. Hope this post is up to the standard. It's like, 1 in the morning and I have work tomorrow morning, enjoy. I will hopefully get out a part that's kinda like a prequel, I wanna do Other Friends lol. Obvs inspired by Steven Universe.]
Let’s go in the garden, 
You’ll find something waiting, 
Right there where you left it, 
Lying upside down...
Excitement shot through your system, your feet dragging along the ground as a giggle bubbled from within you. You paused every few seconds as the man before you looked back, a single brow raised at your antics. He took a few steps forward, the sounds of your feet tapping as you followed along filling the air. He sighed, turning around. His eyes, golden sclera and deep red irises, landed on your own, though unfocused. Almost as if looking straight through you. 
He’d tried to keep you here, to stop you from following. He knew you were only doing what you were meant to do. You were made for him. An angel born purely to keep Lucifer in check, to keep him happy. You loved being by his side, you loved spending time with him on Earth, in the garden. You thought he loved it too. You thought he loved you. 
Taking a deep breath, Lucifer forced a smile for you. His wings softly flapped behind him, lifting him off the ground, raising him to be just above your face level. His finger tapped your nose, his enchanting voice coming through. “Here in the garden, let’s play a game, I’ll show you how it’s done.” 
“Here in the garden, stand very still,” His hands on your shoulders, you looked up at him with a beaming smile, happy to spend time with your love. 
“This’ll be so much fun,” Your voice, soft and delicate spoke, earning a smile from him. Your heart fluttered at his smile, his cheeks crinkling slightly as his eyes closed, appearing relaxed. At least to you. But appearances weren’t all what they seemed. 
“And then he smiled, that’s what I’m after,” You clenched a fist, pressing it to your chest, trying to calm your fast beating heart. You could feel the eyes of the demon behind you on you, the very demon that came from him. “The smile in his eyes, the sound of his laughter.” 
You could see the scene replaying before you all over again. You could even hear the soft chuckle that had once escaped his lips, his hands softly squeezing your shoulders. You knew she could see it too, but you didn’t want to acknowledge the memories that had begun to rush back to you, memories from long ago. Memories you’d wished you could forget. 
“Happy to listen, happy to play, happily watching him drift away...” 
Lucifer’s grip loosened on your shoulders, his wings flapping as he pulled away, leaving you to your little game. You watched him fly into the bright sky, disappearing in the light of the sun with another. But you didn’t think anything of it, because he loved you. He was playing with you, spending time with you. 
The girl behind you could only watch in silence, her throat squeezing closed as she tried to keep her inner turmoil to herself. She knew exactly where she was, exactly where you had taken her. The wilted bushes, the out-of-control bramble, the spiraling roots through the grass. This was the long-abandoned Garden of Eden. This was where it all began. Where Charlie’s father, Lucifer, had started humanity’s spiral into chaos, starting with you. 
“Happily waiting, all on my own, under the endless sky...” You glanced up to the stars dotting the night sky. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. You never wanted anyone to see this, you never even wanted to see it again yourself. Yet, here you were, sharing your vulnerability with the person you’d come down to Hell to kill. The princess of Hell herself, and Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie. You had let her in, showing her your memories. “Counting the seconds, standing alone, as thousands of years go by...” 
The roots had begun to cling to your still form, your body aching, your wings begging to be spread once more. Your hair, once something you had been proud of, now in shambles, grown out nearly to your feet. Deep bags had sunk into the skin under your eyes, a telling sign of your exhaustion. For how much longer must this game go on, you wondered, but never dared voice it. You were meant to make him happy, right? 
“Happily wondering, night after night, is this how it works? Am I doing it right?” Your fists clenched, unable to bear looking at your old self any longer, watching as your sickened form disappeared, turning into speckles of gold in the wind. You stepped forward into the place where you had once showed Charlie your older memories, resuming the familiar stance you had been in for over ten thousand years. “Happy to listen, happy to stay, happily watching him drift away...” 
A cool breeze blew through your hair, reminding you of the countless nights you took solace in the feeling, the only thing that reminded you that you were still alive, still conscious. Your eyes met Charlie’s, a faint smile on her face as you spotted the tears welling in her eyes. You turned away with the breeze, taking a step in the opposite direction of Charlie, startling her as she was quick to follow. 
“You keep on turning pages, for people who don’t care, people who don’t care about you,” 
You walked along the edge of a pond, legs brushing against the soft petals of the flowers surrounding the pond. The breeze pulled along the flowers, a long dead water lily being ripped from the ground. Grasping the weakened petals of the flower in your hand, you turned to Charlie with a soft smile, placing the flower in her blonde hair that felt just the same as his. Just as you pulled your hand away, turning your attention to the water, the flower crumpled in her hair, falling apart. 
“And still, it takes you ages, to see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, everyone’s gone on without you...” Your eyes drifted back to the spot you had become a part of for so long. The spot you thought would one day claim you and set you free from the pain that he’d left behind in you. Charlie’s eyes followed, her eyes widening to see more of your memories, more of what her father had caused. 
“Finally, something.” 
The two seraphims, Sera and Emily, stood before you, fear and sorrow written across their faces. Emily ripped roots that had grown to hold you down tightly off, while Sera ran her fingers through your broken hair, tears streaming down her face. 
“Finally, news, about how the story ends.” 
Sera rambled on and on about everything you had missed. About how humanity had progressed. About the angels that had replaced you in society. Everybody thought you were dead, at the hands of the Devil. You didn’t understand any of it, not until she explained just what had happened, why you were even standing here, playing this game. 
“He isn’t an angel anymore, fallen long ago, leaving you for Lilith, and his brand-new daughter...” 
“Isn’t that lovely?” 
Tears streamed down Charlie’s face as she watched your younger self burst into tears, sobbing violently into Sera’s chest as she hugged you tightly, muttering useless apologies over and over. You cried and screamed, telling her to stop lying and to bring you to Lucifer, to end this game already. You begged and pleaded, telling her that it wasn’t like that, that he loved you, he asked you to stay and play with him. He couldn’t abandon you. You were his angel, his love. 
“Isn’t that cool?” 
You ignored the pain that squeezed your heart, watching as your memories faded in those familiar golden glimmers, begging that this would be the final time you’d have to see them. You ignored the hot tears that dripped down your cheeks, your emotions leaking through, escaping the tight hold you’d kept them in for so many years. 
“And isn’t that cruel? And aren’t I a fool to have happily listened, happy to stay, happily watching him drift, drift...” 
You squeezed a fist to your chest, your heart slowing down finally as you sighed deeply. This was the end. This garden, where everything had begun, would finally see the end of the story. Where you would finally let go of the memories that haunted you for ten thousand years, and move on with your life, putting an end to his little game. 
“Drift away...” 
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