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caesium-55 · 2 months

Text

—seven days. [ vii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: that's it folks. welcome to the end. peace out (my hand is hurting like a bitch) NOT EDITED NOT BETA READ EXCUSE THE MISTAKES

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm i hope i didn't forget anyone

masterlist.

max: ANSWER ME

max: [NAME] I SWEAR TO GOD

max: I’LL FLY TO TEXAS RIGHT NOW I SWEAR

max: THIS IS ALL FUN AND GAMES FOR YOU ISNT IT

max: YOU FUCK ME AND THEN YOU LEAVE

max: YOU'RE ALL FUCKING THE SAME ALWAYS LEAVING ME

max: FUCK YOU [NAME]

max: TALK TO ME YOU COWARD

max: EXPLAIN YOURSELF

max: IM GOING INSANE HERE

Max has visited your apartment a total of two times since he’s given you the keys. The first time—Max remembers it was in early January 2020. You held a housewarming party disguised as a little lunch get-together as a thank-you for his gift. Daniel and him as well as two of your former roommates, Max recognizes them as Julia and Kendall from the PR team, are the only ones invited. You cooked pasta. Your mother’s recipe, you claimed. It easily became one of Max’s favorite dishes in the world and he requests you to cook it from time to time.

The second time, Max remembers going there again after the Monaco Grand Prix 2021. It’s been only a week after your breakup with Leo and four races before the incident with the Hamilton fan in Silverstone. The team holds a dinner to celebrate Max taking P1 and usually, you’re present in these types of things—the after parties and team dinners and all forms of team celebrations in general because you like celebrations but you're nowhere to be found.

Max finishes dinner quickly and excuses himself to Horner. He grabs a beer and drives himself to your apartment, because he knows you’re definitely not staying in the hotel with the team.

When you’re sad, you tend to hide away. It's an annoying habit. You make it your career to dig your nose into everyone’s problem—Max’s most especially—and provide everyone with the help you can offer. It's your love language, Max thinks, to be insanely helpful to everyone but the moment that the places switch and you’re the one who needs help, you run away because you refuse to bother everyone else with your problems despite the amount of people who are willing to return the favor you gave them in the past. It is very hypocritical of you.

He knocks on your door. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him. It's an established pattern, a system that works for both of you. You shout for him to wait and Max does so, observing the details of the woodwork in front of him as he waits patiently for you. You have a very nice door.

You open the door. Max’s brows raised slightly at the sight of you. You're still in your Red Bull polo shirt but instead of the pencil skirt you were wearing during the race, you wore short shorts instead. Black, fitted, and they stop a little above your mid-thighs. You're barefoot, too. No YSL heels in sight.

Max turns into a lovely shade of pink. You don't notice it.

You have long legs despite being 5’5” only, which gives off the illusion that you’re very tall when you're actually not. Your body ratio consists of seventy-five percent legs and twenty-five percent upper body. You have lean legs. It's full of childhood scars—thin white lines that are barely noticeable because of how old they are. You have well-built calves and dainty ankles, which look weird but also look right, and your feet are veiny, jagged lines of green blue on skin. Max thinks it's because you wear heels every day.

“Somethin’ wrong, man?” your voice sounds nasal, hoarse, and deep at the same time. Your eyes and nose are red and Max knows full well that you’ve been crying over Leo again and yet you carry yourself as if you're fine, standing in front of him with your shoulders straightened and your tone professional.

Max never liked the bitterness that washes over him whenever he sees you with Leo. But at that moment, he’ll rather endure the bitterness that chokes him until he thinks he’s about to pass out if that makes you alright, if that makes you stop crying.

“I have beer.”

It's a lame thing to say. He should have said something better. He should have asked if you’re alright, should have asked why you were crying, should have asked if there's anything you need him to do just so you’ll feel better. But his mind blanks and he just thrusted the beer forward.

You smile, shaking your head. You take the beer from his hands gratefully, “I have pasta. Wanna go in?”

It's a fair trade. You love beer. He loves your pasta. And so, he entered your apartment.

He faces your door for the third time in 2023. A million thoughts run around his brain per second as his eyes train on the wood patterns of your front door. Dread pools in his stomach as he holds the door knob. He only holds it, not twisting it and pushing it open just yet.

Max is stalling. He knows that. He shouldn't be stalling. He knows that, too.

He dreads what's waiting for him on the other side of the door. He can hear your voice in the back of his skull, saying, “Pussy. You risk your life and drive a rocket ship for a livin’ and you’re afraid of openin’ a damn door?”

Max takes a deep breath and opens the door. Silence and emptiness greets him.

Your apartment has always been bare. You refuse to buy carpets, curtains, houseplants, decorative furnishings or anything that can make your loft apartment seem like someone actually lives there.

(“It's expensive here,” you said.

“I’ll pay,” Max offered.

“No,” you shook your head. “I’ll just bring something from home.”

You never did.)

Max’s feet lead him to your living room. Dust accumulates on top of your glass coffee table and couch. Max remembers them coming along when he bought the apartment. You never got them changed.

His brows furrowed when his eyes landed on the familiar looking box that sits atop the coffee table. He strides towards it, head tilting to read the little pink sticky note attached to it. It reads: Sorry Max, I can't steal more from Kelly.

Max’s entire world crumbles down. He opens the shoe box and sees the shoe, arranged carefully in place.

He hurriedly reaches for the folder next to it and reads the writings inside.

Max, I know you’d be the one who’d find this one day. By that time, I’ll be in Texas already. I don't know if I’d have told you that I resigned already. If I didn't, that's because I’m a pussy. Sorry.

Anyways, I will say this as straightforwardly as I can because I think I had been a pussy long enough.

I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager by 2024.

Max keeps re-reading the last two sentences just to make sure he’s reading it correctly.

I resigned, Max. I won't be your manager.

I resigned, Max.

resigned.

Max hurls the shoe box and it zooms in the air and hits the wall. He fists his hair and pulls. A scream erupts in his throat. The neighbors are going to file a noise complaint but Max cannot bring himself to care. He’s the one whose heart is breaking here.

He grabs the folder. Max feels something fall on his foot. He looks down.

A beaded bracelet. Navy blue and red—the color of Red Bull. There are three white beads in the bracelet and on those three white beads are the letters M and V—his initials—and the number 1—his current number.

Max drops on his knees. He picks up the little thing with trembling hands. He brings the bracelet to his chest and Max falls apart. This time, you’re not here to hold him together.

max: hey im planning to visit the US

max: do you think you can show me around?

Logan Sargeant is a good driver. That's a given. It's his profession. But the way he drives; it's making Max sleepy.

“So….” Logan begins awkwardly. “I’m assuming you're visiting Texas because of [Name].”

Max nods, “Yeah.”

“You're not mad at her, are you?” Logan asks. “For resigning?”

“She told you?”

So you told the American boy but not him? Max cannot help but be offended now.

“Well, I kinda assumed? Liam mentioned it to the other day, who heard the news from his cousin.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lawson?”

“Yes, Lawson.”

Max remembers the kid all too well. Liam Lawson has overtaken him in Singapore after all. It's embarrassing. Watch out, Max, you teased him. Liam’s out to get you.

“Liam probably heard it from Leo.”

“Leo?”

Logan is mentioning too many names. Well, it’s just two but two is still many for his brain to comprehend right now.

“Yeah, Leo and Liam are cousins.”

Max pauses.

“Leo and [Name] still talk so I guess [Name] told Leo, who must have mentioned it to Liam, who then mentioned it in the groupchat with me and Osc—are you okay?”

Max tries his hardest not to scream.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, voice tight. “I’m fine. How far are we from Austin?”

They drive past a sign that says “Welcome to Austin.”

“Well, it looks like we’ve just arrived.”

Max is once again offended that Logan knows where you live while he doesn't. Vista Del Pueblo, Logan tells him the name of the place as they hop off the car. It's funny how close you lived from the Circuit of the Americas. No wonder you always requested to be home after the Austin GP before flying off to the next city.

The two-storey yellow and red brick house is empty. Despite that, it looks like a perfect picture of a happy childhood home. The backyard and the patio is wide. Beside the driveway stands an olden tree. Below the tree is a reclining chair that looks like it has gone through a dust storm and a thousand rains.

“It’s empty,” Max announces. Logan nods.

“Yeah.”

Logan ends up approaching an old woman in the neighboring house who was sweeping dust off her porch and asks her if she knows the [Last Name] family’s whereabouts.

“They haven't returned home since Christmas,” she replies. “Everyone in the neighborhood tried contacting them but no one got through. Ever since Julio died… It's like the entire family followed after him.”

Max and Logan stiffen, shocked at the news that's just been revealed.

Julio died….?

Max needs to find you. Urgently. He needs to see if you're okay.

The sun retires for the night and Max decides that it's time for Logan and him to retire as well. Logan drives them to a hotel and Max pays for two rooms despite Logan insisting that he can pay for his own. They grab dinner at the hotel restaurant, in a private area that Max paid for.

“You’re not angry at her, aren't you?” Logan asks for the second time that day. His plate is half empty. Meanwhile, Max’s plate is barely touched. His appetite significantly decreased. He keeps thinking about you, worried about how you're coping with Julio’s death. You are never the best person when it comes to dealing with pain. Physical pain, you can handle. You’re barely fazed when you burn your hand in the oven, when you hit your hip at the corner of the table, when you accidentally get scratches and you don't even notice it until someone points out the blood that terrifyingly drips down your arm. Max can still remember how you dealt with your breakup with Leo. All those nights crying, the unhealthy fixation in work so you won't have any space feeling human emotions, the moments where you disconnect with reality that Max has to pull you out of many times. The death of a father is a million times worse than a breakup. Max imagines a thousand scenarios in his mind. He needs to be with you right now. He needs to make sure you're alright.

“I hope you're not. You obviously are but I still hope you're not,” Logan continues. “She was always going to leave, you know? She told me in January. She told me that she needs to—

Max accidentally throws the glass of water he was holding. It falls onto the floor. The sound of shattering glass echoes throughout the room. Logan stares at Max with his eyes wide. A cleaning crew comes in a hurry and cleans it up. Max doesn't apologize, he only says, “send me the bill later” and sends the crew out. He turns to Logan.

“She needs to what?”

“You're angry.”

You reminded me, Max said in his mind.

“And?” Max raises his brow. “She needs to what?”

Logan lets out a shaky breath, “She needs to become an engineer or else she’ll never forgive herself.”

Manager. Engineer. What's so damn special about that engineering position anyway? Why are you so hell bent on leaving Max? Red Bull pays you more than an engineer. Hell, Max is even willing to raise your salary to the same amount as half of his annual salary in Red Bull if it keeps you from leaving him. Max is willing to pay for your student loans and refund everything you paid to USC during your college years.

Max pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh. He’s feeling too many emotions all at once.

“I think it's best if you talk to Leo?” Logan suggests. Max appreciates that he’s trying to be helpful but mentioning Leo brings nothing but more anger in him. Fucking Leo. Why does he know where you are? He’s your fucking ex for god’s sake. Why are you even still talking to your ex? “He’s close with [Name]. I think he can help you.”

Max contemplates.

He doesn't want to ask fucking Leo.

And he’s not that desperate to seek help from him.

Logan writes his number on a table napkin. Max pockets it.

After dinner, Max sits inside his hotel room. He dials the number Logan gave him because if he’ll tell you where you are, he can swallow his pride for a day. It takes three redials and two rings before Leo answers.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Leo Stark?”

“Yes, this is he. May I ask who’s calling?”

“It’s Max Verstappen.”

Silence.

“Hello, are you still there?”

Max hears a loud crash followed by a series and a whole lot of ruffling, “Sorry about that. Do you mind repeating that?”

“Max Verstappen.”

“Ah, so I’m not hearing things. I thought I was hearing things. Sorry. Do you wish to talk to James Vowles? I can transfer the call to him.”

“No,” Max says. “I want to talk to you. It's about [Name].”

“Oh.” A pause. “You're going to ask me where she is, aren't you?”

“You're smart.”

“Well, mate, too bad. I’m afraid I can’t tell you.”

“You can’t?”

“I can’t,” he echoes. “I mean I can but I won’t.”

“So you know where she is.” It's not a question. Something bitter rears its ugly head in his stomach. His bitterness and anger now dwarf his worry for you in size. Fuck Logan for reminding him that you always wanted to leave. Fuck Leo for knowing where you are.

“I’m going to ask again and you better give me the answer I want. Where is she?”

“The answer you want?” Leo clicks his tongue. “It’s always what you want. Have you considered what she wants? Does [Name] even want you to find her?”

“You don't know what you're talking about—”

“I do,” Leo interrupts and the way he sounds so sure of himself aggravates Max. “I do, mate. Believe it or not.”

“I see what's happening here,” Max sneers. “I’ve heard you and [Name] broke up because she was prioritizing me over you. Is this it? Are you doing this out of petty jealousy?��

Leo sighs, “You’re making this about you again.”

Max opens his mouth to retort but Leo cuts him off, “Let me get this straight with you, mate. When we were still dating, not once have I been jealous of you. I understood that she works for you and that she has to put you first in certain situations. After all, you’re her job. I’m just the home she returns to after work.”

Max’s jaw clenches. Leo was her home. It was the truth no matter how much Max hated it. Leo does not stop there.

“I have no issue with her focusing on you. The only problem I have with it is her tendency to focus more on you than herself. If you come to her at a very vulnerable time, especially now, there’s a chance that she’s going to focus on you again. She deals with grief in a very unhealthy way and I don't want her to do that. Not when she needs to properly grieve for her father.”

Leo sighs again.

“So please, mate, just this once. Think about what she needs right now and it’s not you.”

You don't need Max.

But Max needs you.

That is one of the most painful truths he’s ever been given.

“She’ll come back. She always does. It may take months. Years, even. Just… Let her grieve and let her pick herself up. There are people who don't want help because they need to do it themselves or else it won't feel fulfilling. [Name] is no different. Also, I’ll be honest with you, mate. I don't want you coming to her before she achieves her dreams. You’re so used to [Name] giving you everything you want that you forgot that she, too, is someone who needs and wants and dreams. She just wanted to be an engineer.”

“And how is this my fault?”

“You knew what she wanted. You agreed to help her achieve it. You didn't allow her to move to Renault. You told her that you’ll ask your team principal after you win and you did win but you didn't keep your end of the bargain.”

“I—”

“Who are you to control her dreams? If you love her, you would have asked Horner, at least. She knows you never asked Horner. Maybe she would have never resigned if you tried to talk to Horner, but you let your selfishness win.”

Max feels all breath punched out of his lungs.

“You had the power to ask your team principal yet you didn't and she has to watch you achieve your dreams while she can't. Unfair, don’t you think?”

A pause.

“Just start considering what she feels, mate. That's all.”

“I am considering her. Always.” This is the closest to a love declaration he can admit out loud. The purest form of love is consideration, they say. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel, pays attention to detail, holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you, keeps promises so you won’t be disappointed, that's when you know they love you.

“Are you really?”

Is he really?

“Take care of her for me, Verstappen. Even from afar. You can do that.”

The call ends.

Max stares blankly at the wall, still holding his phone against his ear. Then, he hurls it across the room. He aggressively drags his hand through his face.

Max flies back to Belgium after Austin to spend the rest of his off-season with his mother and sister. He apologizes to Logan for his behavior. Logan is a kind man, he forgives easily. He drives Max to the airport.

The next day, an article is posted, titled—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN.

On New Year's Eve, Kelly messages Max. He can't say that he’s surprised. In truth, he’s been expecting her to message him, whether it's to beg to take her back or to curse him out or to tell him something about Penelope or it's to inform him that she's going to pick up her things in Max’s penthouse in Monaco.

kelly: i sent someone to pick up our things in your place

max: okay

kelly: also

kelly: *sent a photo*

kelly: she apologized for something that's not her fault

kelly: you have a good one

The photo is a screenshot of Kelly’s conversation with you, dated December 30. That was yesterday.

you: sorry about the breakup

you: i didn't know about the shoes

you: i didn't take it

you: im so sorry

you: i hope you're not too hurt

kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you

kelly: take care of him for me

you: thank you for loving him

you: but i can’t do what you're asking

you: not anymore

“What’s wrong, baby?”

Max looks up to see his mother’s worried face.

“Oh, uh,” he closes his phone and almost drops it. Fucking clumsy fingers, fucking messages, fucking pain. “Nothing, Mum.”

His mother does not look convinced.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? No need to hide it. You may be a world champion now but you’ll always be my baby,” she says. “What does [Name] always say? Even champions are allowed to cry.”

At the mention of you, Max looks away.

“Tell me. Is it Kelly?”

The last time Max cried in his mother’s arms was when he was eleven. Jos always said boys should never cry. That boys who cry are weak. And weak people do not become champions. Max wanted to be a champion so he never allowed himself to be weak. Weakness only becomes a weakness if it is known so he learned to bottle it up over the years and all the bottled grief became anger. Hence, the birth of his serious anger issues.

He’s twenty-seven now with three WDC titles under his belt. He’s outgrown both of his parents in terms of physical size and in career accomplishments but when his mother’s arms wrapped around him, he allowed himself to become a little boy again. He allowed himself to be weak.

“She left me, Mum,” Max whispers, hugging her mother close. Sophie rubs his back in soothing circles.

“You’ll find someone, Max,” his mother assures.

“I don't want someone else,” he says. “I want [Name].”

“Oh.”

Sophie blinks.

“Max, you—”

“Please, don't make me say it, Mum,” Max pleads, squeezing his eyes shut. A lone tear drips down his cheek. “Don't make me say I’m in love with [Name].”

Max sends an email to Christian that he’s not going to take a manager in 2024. Christian tells him it's a bad idea, that he needs a manager because he’s becoming busy with his schedules and everyone wants a piece of time with the third-time world driver’s champion but Max cannot care less. If it’s not you, he’d rather have no one at all.

Max wants to learn how to get used without you on his side. He did a little reflecting over pre-season and realized how he had become so dependent on you. He learns the functions of a Google calendar and how to use a Notion page.

Max just knows 2024 is going to be a shitty year for him.

Bahrain, Max remembers, is your favorite track. He doesn't know why you like Bahrain. Bahrain is hot. Bahrain is not as exciting as other race tracks. Personally, he prefers Spa-Francorchamps.

He also remembers that you like watching the air show. You never said it outright but you always have this smile on your face while watching the jets painting the sky with colors so Max kind of figured.

Max snaps a picture of the jets in the sky. He opens his Instagram and searches for your name in his message list. When he presses his conversation with you, the first thing that greets him is his spam of angry messages. All delivered, all unread. The last message, Max remembers, was sent when he visited Austin with Logan to search for you.

max: SO YOU TOLD LEO BUT NOT ME? DO I EVEN MEAN SOMETHING TO YOU?

His finger hovers on the send button. He lets out a sigh and he pockets his phone instead.

Daniel approaches Max after Max wins Jeddah.

“Hey, have you been talking to [Name]?” he asks.

“Not lately,” answers Max. Not since she left me, Max thinks.

Daniel scratches his nape. “I think she's angry at me.”

“You’ve been talking?”

Now, Max is offended. So you talked to Leo, you talked to Kelly, you talked to Daniel, but you made no effort to talk to him? When was he going to get a message from you?

“Well, I kinda…” Daniel pulls out his phone. “I just checked up on her? And she replied like a week later. She sounds kinda angry? I don't know. Do you think she sounds angry?”

Daniel shows Max his last conversation with [Name].

daniel: hey!

daniel: heard from max what happened

daniel: we miss you! you should visit come by in bahrain! the opening is gonna be sick

you: can't sorry

daniel: aww how about jeddah

daniel: i’ll fly you out don't worry about traveling commercial

you: idk man

you: might be too much noise and distraction for you

you: good luck in jeddah tho

A very passive aggressive reply.

“Yeah, she is,” Max supplies.

Max wins Bahrain. Max wins Jeddah. Australia, on the other hand, is a funny story. First, the Williams team pulls an annoying move. Poor Logan. He had to give his car to his teammate and sit out of the race.

Max visits him after the news was officially announced. He finds the American racer in his driver room, sitting sadly on the bed with his head bent low, after asking a rookie Williams mechanic, who trembled at the sight of him.

It's a pitiful looking room. Max has a villa for a driver room. Logan doesn't even have a closet for his overalls, just a rack held together by hopes and dreams. The bed is so tiny and narrow that Max is sure he wouldn't even fit if he lies in there unless he assumes a tight fetal position.

“You’re here,” Logan stands from the bed, eyes wide in surprise. He hasn’t expected Max to visit him out of all the people in the grid. Not even his own teammate performed that courtesy. “Uh, I don't have anything. Here, have my seat. Do you want me to grab—”

“It's fine,” Max holds his palm up. “Sit back down, Logan.”

Logan slowly sits back down and moves to the side so Max can have a space to sit on. Max occupies Logan’s given space beside him. Their shoulders and elbows are touching.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

Logan nods.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Max nods, but he doesn't believe him. Comfortable silence wraps the entire room. It lasted less than five minutes.

“You should break the car,” Max suggests seriously. “So no one can drive it, too.”

A soft laugh escaped Logan’s throat.

The door swings open and enters Leo, who freezes when he sees Max Verstappen sitting next to Logan. He looks at the two F1 drivers then back in his hand, where he was holding a large Stanley cup and two styro cups.

“Great, I only brought two cups,” he says, kicking the door behind him to close it. “Should have told me the world champion is coming. I would have brought the expensive wine.”

“What do you have there?”

“Beer,” Leo lifts the Stanley cup and gives it a small shake. “Transferred it to a Stanley cup so no one would notice.”

“James wouldn’t be happy,” says Logan, frowning.

“We’re not happy with him either,” Leo retorts, pouring the beer into the two cups. He hands one to Logan and another to Max.

“I suggested breaking his car,” Max inserts, accepting the cup. He still feels a bit weird to be hanging out with Leo like this. He’s angry still, but he’s not as angry as he was in Austin. Leo’s words, though Max would never admit it out loud, made sense. You left because of Max’s own selfishness. He was the one who had cut your wings and thought that his gesture was out of love when in fact, it was an action born out of his desperation and his fear of being left behind by you.

“Should I?” Leo humors his suggestion, shrugging his shoulders.

Logan sighs, shaking his head at the two. He can’t believe they're both older than him but still wield that petty immaturity.

“Please don't.”

Second, the RB20 has brake issues in Australia so Max ends up retiring in the middle of the race. Max hears everyone cheer at his retirement. That's when you know he’s good. When everyone wishes for his downfall. Everybody in Red Bull grows wary watching their prized driver stomp inside the garage, looking like he has a lot to say to the mechanics. His head is as hot as the burning car at the pit.

Max hears two people whispering amongst themselves:

“Mad Max is back.”

“Where's [Name] when you need her? He’s going to get blow up at us now.”

“[Name] really is a saintess because she’s the only one who can handle him when he’s angry.”

“I never appreciated her efforts before but I am now. I hope she never left.”

Max hopes she didn't, too. Out of all the people in Red Bull, he’s the one who wishes that she hasn't left the most. Now, he’s even angrier.

Max wins P1. If he doesn't, it's a DNF. The problem is the reliability of the car, not him. Never him.

He steps foot in Austin soil again on October 15th for the 19th race of the season, eager to win another P1 and increase his chance of snatching his fourth consecutive world driver’s championship title.

Fortunately, the RB20 doesn't fail him mid-race. The Dutch national anthem is heard all around the Circuit of the Americas and Max retires to the garage, too tired for any form of celebration. He wants to change out of his racing gear. He still has to fix his Google calendar and check out a few things in his Notion page. Who knew being your own manager can be so tiring?

Kendall comes by, a camera in hand. She snaps a quick picture, only one take because she knows Max hates taking pictures. Max believes you mentioned it to her before and has asked her to take the pictures quickly so he wouldn't get annoyed. You were always too thoughtful, always mindful of the little details. Perhaps, it was why he fell in the first place.

Max pivots on his heels to leave after he hears the camera click.

“Oh Max,” Kendall stops him. “[Name] came by earlier. She said congratulations.”

Max entire world stops spinning. Everything else became a mass of white noise.

“Where's she?” Max demands.

“She left already, said she’s got somewhere to be—”

Max sprints to his driver room, grabs his keys and ran all the way to the parking lot where his car was parked, not minding the screams and the questioning stares he received from the people he ran past them to his car. His mind only focuses on one thing—he has to get to you.

He drives down to the familiar road that he and Logan drove in last December 2023. He's racing against time and like all races he'd participated in, he hopes to win. He hopes that he’ll be able to see you. Max arrives at the red and yellow brick house in Vista Del Pueblo, jogging up until the front door and knocking. Four slow knocks followed by three quick ones, so you’ll know it's him.

No one answers. Max jogs up to the window at the front and peeks inside. The house is still empty as it had been in December.

Max's shoulders sagged.

He wasn't fast enough.

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula one #max verstappen #formula 1 #max verstappen x you #manager!reader #f1 imagines #fanfic #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #mv1 #mv33

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 11 months

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My Girls - Max Verstappen

"Y/N, liefde, go. We will be fine," Max said, trying to push you out of the door for your first day back at work since Aleta had been born. You hadn't left her before, and it wasn't like you didn't trust Max because he was a brilliant dad, but you were already getting separation anxiety.

Christian had told you to take all the time you needed, but you decided it was time to go back or else you didn't think you ever would. Max tried to get you to you to quit your job and become a full time mum, but you didn't want to and he respected that.

As he shoved you out of the door, you turned over your shoulder to see your beautiful baby girl bouncing in her carrier with a gummy smile on her face. You knew she'd be fine, but you didn't want to go. "You're going to be late," he tried to convince you as you stood on your doorstep.

"I know, but one more cuddle won't hurt," you said, trying to lunge past him to no avail. Max grabbed you and picked you up, walking you down the stone path to the car. All three of you had gone back to the UK so that you could carry on working, and Max would still be flying around for races.

"I love you, and I will see you later," he smiled, kissing you quickly and opening the car door. Begrudgingly, you clambered into the car, started the engine, and pulled away before you had the chance to turn back.

Max sighed once you had gone, glad that you were getting out of the house for a bit. When he was sure you had definitely gone and not turned around, he headed back in the house to check on little Aleta, who was still bouncing about in her carrier.

"OK princess, we have some work to do," he said, picking up the infant as she flashed him a toothless smile and gargled happily. It shocked him how much he loved the little person, and he didn't believe it when people said that you love your child in a special way. Now, nothing seemed truer and purer that the bond between parent and child.

—

Walking through the doors to the Red Bull HQ, you instantly felt at home in the building. The people smiled fondly at you, and almost everyone asked how Aleta was doing and you proudly showed off pictures of her.

It took you around an hour to actually get to your office, but you were glad to be back once you had settled in. You walked through the door to see a huge bouquet of pink flowers perched brightly on your desk.

The note read, 'Dear Y/N, we hope you've enjoyed your time off and are well rested, and we all hope to meet Aleta sometime soon! It is brilliant to have you back - Christian and the Team'. By the side of the flowers, was a framed photo of you, Max and Aleta that you had taken a few days after she was born.

A few tears stung your eyes at the thoughtfulness of the gift, and you pushed the frame to the side of your computer so that you could always look at it and have it there.

You smiled at the note and the kind gesture, but you quickly got back to work, planning some challenges for Max, Checo and (new recruit) Daniel to do before the opener in Bahrain. As you were brainstorming, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" you shouted, expecting it to be Christian since he said he would pop over to your office at some point in the day. "Hi," someone curtly said, closing the door behind them. That voice was familiar - and painfully so.

"Get out, Scott," you bitterly spat, glaring at him over the top of your computer screen. The sight of him made your blood boil. You didn't feel hurt anymore, because Max had patched up the cracks that he had left in your heart. You just felt anger towards the pathetic excuse of a man that stood before you.

"Can we just talk?" he sheepishly asked, approaching the desk and lifting the photo frame from it. Before you could snatch it off him, he got a good look at the perfect daughter he had abandoned. "Don't you dare," you scoffed, plucking the picture out of his hand and setting back on your desk.

"Can I see her?" he asked, and the question just pissed you off more.

"You lost the right to see her the moment you told me to get rid of her," you coldly said, fidgeting in your seat. You couldn't guarantee that you wouldn't hit him if he came nearer, so you stayed in your seat. "Please, Y/N," he pleaded, and you found it rather amusing.

Lifting your hand up to scratch your head, Scott spotted the ring on your finger glinting under the office lights. "So you're marrying him?" he half scoffed half asked, but it sounded like a rhetorical question.

"Yes, I am," you dead-panned, waiting for someone to walk by so you could send them to Christian's office. "How the hell could you marry him after what? 5 months?"

"Well 5 months was a hell of enough time to realise that he's a whole lot better than you could ever be. Max cared about me when you didn't have any fucks to give. Max took care of me when you left me by myself. Max loves our child more than you ever could," you yelled at him, losing your cool completely.

"How do you know when you won't give me a chance!" He shouted back, squaring up to you as you got out of your chair. "You didn't give me a chance, did you Scott? You told me to get rid of her and forget about it," you spat back at him.

"This is me giving you a chance, Y/N," he said, and you couldn't believe the audacity of him. He decided to show up, nearly a year too late to try and right the wrong he had made. But, no apology would ever be enough. "You can stick your chance up your ass," you scoffed, seeing people gathered outside of the door as they had opened it to see what was happening.

"He isn't her father,"

"Max was there for the scans, through the morning sickness, through the moodwings, through the late nights. Where were you?" you asked as he realised that people were there and listening. Scott stood there, wide eyed in surprise.

"Where the fuck were you, Scott?" you asked again as more people appeared in the doorway. Before he had chance to answer, Christian walked through the door. "Scott, my office, now," he instructed, and Scott scampered away with his tail tucked between his legs.

"Y/N, someone will come for you shortly," your boss said, ushering all of the people away from your office. You felt bad for letting that unfold how it did in an office environment, but there was no chance you were letting him speak to you like that.

While you waited for someone to come through, you tried to focus on your work, but your mind always wandered to Scott and how much of a dick he was. After around half an hour, Christian's secretary came through and told you to go to his office.

There was no point in knocking as the door was already open and he waved you in. "So, tell me what happened,". You smirked in your head - this was going to be good.

"So, I was doing my work, Scott knocked and I told him to come in because I didn't know who it was. He asked if we could talk, and I said no because this is not the right place to do that. He saw that I was engaged and asked how I could marry Max after the short time we have had together. He asked if he could see Aleta, I said no, then he asked for a chance and I started arguing with him. I am at fault, because I did argue back instead of being mature, so I apologise for that," you said.

"I shouldn't have allowed him to rile me up like that, especially at work, and I am so sorry you are having to waste your time doing this," you apologised, a small part of you terrified that you were going to lose your job.

"To start, thank you for being honest with me, it makes this a lot easier. Secondly, I appreciate that this situation is difficult, but that is not a reason to have fights like that in the office. However, we have decided to let Scott go," he said, and you worried even more.

Even if Max did want you to stay at home, getting fired was not the way he wanted it to happen. He wanted it to be on your terms. "But we can't cope without you and this wasn't really your fault, so you're safe... For now," he joked, and you let out the air you had been holding in your lungs as he spoke.

"Thank you, Christian. Again, I am really sorry," you said, standing and going back to your office. The rest of the day went by without a hitch, and you were free to drive home.

—

"Right Leta, do we think mommy wants steak or chicken?" Max cooed at the infant as she sat in her carrier on the floor of the butchers. Of course, she didn't understand, but she gargled along just because it was her daddy talking to her.

"Yeah, I think she'd prefer steak too," he said, and the burly butcher behind the counter couldn't help but smile warmly at the pair. "Which steak are you thinking of?" he asked as Max turned to face him. "The best ones you have," he said.

Max paid for the steaks and headed to their next destination. Now, this one was a bit of a peculiar stop, but you had burned up your entire store of them and the evening wouldn't be complete without at least one.

When he walked into the store, he was washed over with a wave of different scents of floras. He looked around, each section labelled something different. After sniffing pretty much every candle the store had to offer while also being asked by the staff of he needed help multiple times, he was torn between two different scents.

"OK schatje, what do we think of fresh cotton?" he asked, holding the candle in front of Aleta. Did she have a clue what was going on? Absolutely not, but she was just smiling because Max was pulling funny faces at her.

"I like your thinking, Lita, I like it," he said, picking up the rose scented candle and giving it a sniff. He held it out to Aleta, and she was just smiling because it was pink. "Yeah, I think this is the one as well. Good choice," he smiled at her, thinking he was going crazy since he was talking to a baby like she could understand.

He finally had everything he needed, and took Aleta home so that she could take a nap. Thankfully, she was a really easy baby when it came to falling asleep, so that didn't take longer than 10 minutes as she was tired after her big day.

Now, it was time for him to get to work. As the potatoes were boiling, Max headed upstairs and got extra dressed up in a suit to really make the night special.

Just as everything was finished, he heard your car pull up onto the driveway and he stood in position by the dinner table. You trudged up the driveway with the bouquet of flowers from Christian in hand.

When you opened the door, you were greeted with the sight of the kitchen, lit up with candles and the table was all set up nicely. Walking through, you spotted Max stood there, looking handsome as ever. "What's this?" you asked, taking in the scene around you.

"Nothing, I felt like treating you tonight," he smirked, walking towards you and taking the flowers off of you, "Who are these from?"

"Christian," you said.

"I'll put these in a vase," he said, taking them over to the sink to put some water in the container. "I'll go and get changed, give me a minute," you said.

"No, you look perfect,"

"Max, I want to blend in," you laughed, running upstairs and dashing to the wardrobe. You flung your work clothes off and picked out the fanciest dress that you had here. You had more back in Monaco, but you brought a few home with you.

You walked back downstairs, the soft pink fabric pooling around your feet. "You looked amazing before, but wow," he stuttered, pulling your chair out for you.

"Thank you, darling," you smiled, sitting down and getting comfy at the table. Max brought out the first course before taking a seat himself. "So, how was work?" he asked, desperate to know how your first day had gone.

"Well, I missed the two of you so much it was unreal. I've planned some very fun things for you, Checo and Daniel to do, so look forward to that. Oh, and Scott got fired," you added quickly on the end. You really didn't want to tell him about the argument because you knew he'd get annoyed.

"What did he do?" Max asked. Scott was a very good mechanic, to be fair to him, so there must have been some reason that he was fired, and he had a feeling you were involved. "What do you mean?" you asked, trying to hide the obvious fact that you were lying.

"He was a perfectly good mechanic, he must have done something wrong," Max explained, and you could tell by the smug look on his face that he knew he was right. "We just had an argument, it was nothing," you shrugged, hoping he would move past it.

"Has to have been more than nothing if he got fired for it," Max pressed, waiting for you to tell him everything. He knew you would, it would just take a bit of pushing. "He was just asking about Aleta," you told him.

"What did you say?"

"He asked about Aleta and he said he wanted to see her, I told him not a chance, then he saw we were engaged and went batshit nuts," you deadpanned, hoping he wouldn't ask about how he went nuts. Max would be pissed off.

"What do you mean nuts?" he asked. Well there goes those hopes.

"He started banging on about how you aren't her real father and this and that," you said, and you sheepishly watched as his face contorted into anger, near on rage. "Who the fuck does he think he is?" he half-shouted, before quietening down when he remembered that Aleta was upstairs asleep.

"Max, it's fine, we won't have to see him ever again," you tried to calm him down, but you could see his blood was boiling as much as yours was when Scott came in and yelled at you. "He doesn't have the right to say those things to you," he seethed, putting his knife and fork down.

"Darling, don't worry about it, really," you said, as it looked like Max was accepting the fact that there was nothing he could do that wouldn't damage his career. "I just can't believe the nerve," he said, resuming his food.

Finally, the two of you had finished dinner completely and you were just gazing at each other across the table. "Thank you for this, I really appreciate it," you smiled, looking into his eyes. So blue and so calming.

"You deserve a hell of a lot more, but this is the best we can do with a newborn," he replied, taking your hand from across the table. You didn't exchange any words, Max just stood up, and you followed suit.

He led you over to the couch and pulled you down onto his lap. Yes, it was sudden, but that didn't mean it was unwelcomed. "I have missed this," he mumbled against your lips, before capturing your lips with his.

You tangled your hands in his hair as the kiss deepend. Your hands snaked to the top buttons of his shirt as you fiddled with them. Just as you had undone the top few buttons, a loud cry sounded out through the house.

"For fucks sake," you mumbled, but your small amount of anger was quickly dissipated and replaced by a need to take care of your daughter. You clambered off Max's lap and up the stairs, into Aleta's room.

"Hey, sweetheart," you softly said to your crying daughter as you scooped her up in your arms. Pressing her to your chest and bouncing back and forth with her. "Shhh," you shushed the infant, hoping she would calm down and you could take her downstairs.

"You can't be hungry," you sighed, trying to imagine what could be the matter with her. You checked her nappy, but that wasn't the issue. Wandering over to the rocking chair in the corner, you sat down and gently rocked back and forth.

"I know sweetheart, I know," you soothed, rubbing her back as she slowly quietened down. After around 10 minutes, it seemed like she had calmed down and she had decided that she didn't want to scream the house down.

"Oh Leta you can be a handful," you whispered, placing a tender kiss to the top of her head. She was sprouting some fine, blonde hairs and you could have easily believed she was Max's with her hair and big blue eyes.

As you rocked back and forth in the chair, you felt your eyelids become droopy and heavy as the weight of Aleta on your chest relaxed you. "I'll just nap for twenty minutes," you mumbled, letting sleep carry you away to a peaceful numbness.

Max sat downstairs, missing the feeling of his lips on yours and the feeling of your hands running through his hair. The crying had stopped a while ago, so he didn't understand why you hadn't come downstairs yet.

He figured you were just having a snuggle with her as it was your favourite way to spend time. Max had allowed you a few more minutes, but he wasn't hearing any signs of you coming back. He skipped up the stairs and quietly opened the door.

The only light from the room was the small, warmly coloured light that the lamp next to the rocking chair emitted. The light cast a shadow onto the figure of you, with Aleta snuggled up to your chest as the chair still lightly rocked.

He couldn't help but smile to himself, the sight of pure perfection itself sitting right in front of him. You looked like something right out of a fairy tale: his queen holding the heir to the throne of their carefully crafted kingdom.

You and Aleta were everything to him, and he would give up every championship, every podium, every trophy for the pair of you. You were his girls, and you were perfect.

Checking the time, he realised that it was already half past eight, so he accepted that you were very tired as you had had a long day. "Liefde, come on," he gently shook you awake, careful not to wake up Aleta in the process.

"Huh?" you sleepily murmured, not fully able to see Max until your eyes had adjusted. Aleta was pulled away from your chest, leaving your skin exposed to the cold of the room. "Max, give her back," you whined, closing your eyes and holding your arms out for her to be put back in.

"Come on, you're coming to bed," he said as he made sure Aleta was safe and comfortable in her cot. "But I was comfy," you complained to him. You had to stifle a squeal of surprise as Max hoisted you up into his arms and walked you across the hall to the bedroom.

He dropped you down on the bed, walking over to the wardrobe and plucking out one of his shirts from the hangers. "Can I take this off?" he asked, even though he knew the answer was going to be yes. You nodded, before the entirety of your dress was slipped over your head and thrown to the floor.

The soft t-shirt replaced it, and you wasted no time shuffling under the covers and shifting into a comfortable position. Max was wrapping his arms around you in no time, hands mindlessly trailing up and down your stomach.

A part of him had been wanting to ask if you were open to a second child with him, maybe in two or so years time. He thought he'd let you get settled in married life combined with parenthood before he sprang that on you.

He had already asked you two life changing questions when Aleta was born, so he thought he'd hold off for a while.

—

Today was the big day. The day you had been waiting for your whole life. The day you would marry the man of your dreams.

It had been exactly a year and three months since Aleta had been born and Max had proposed to you in the hospital. You had created so many memories together, and you hoped to create many more in the years to come.

For now, it was time to focus on the moment and embrace the space you were in. As you stood at the altar, looking as stunning as ever in your flowing white gown, you gazed around the room to see everyone you loved, all gathered in one place.

Aleta had done a brilliant job of being flower girl with Max's sister Victoria, and you couldn't help but cry a few happy tears as you watched on from the doors. Once all of your bridesmaids were stood in their places, it was your turn in the spotlight.

Max was stood there, eyes glazed over with tears of joy, looking incredibly handsome in his suit. It was like a light flashed before your eyes and you were there, his hands in yours as the officiary spoke unintelligible words to you.

The noise was cancelled out by the bubble that entrapped you and Max. The pair of you had been through a lot, and now, you could leave all of that behind and carry on with life, together. Side by side.

"And now, we will allow these two to share their vows with each other. Max, would you like to start?" Max nodded, and shifted where he stood.

"Y/N, liefde, the love of my life. I would like to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you for letting me into your life when you were most vulnerable, and it made a lot more sense to push me away rather than let me in. Thank you for letting me love you, because it is the thing that keeps me going when times get tough," he started, and tears were already forming in your eyes.

"Finally, thank you for letting me be a father to Aleta, because it is the best thing I will ever get the honour of doing. I am so grateful that I am able to be stood here with you, because I may be a racing driver professionally, but above all of that, I am a husband and a father to the most beautiful girls in the world. It doesn't matter how many trophies I get, because none of them will mean half as much to me as the two of you do."

Now the tears were flowing like salty waterfalls, and you didn't want to go next. "You just had to make it hard for me, didn't you?" you laughed, the audience chuckling along with you. "Max. Being stood here with you today was something I didn't think would ever be possible. I was alone, I was scared, I was struggling. But then, there you were, like a beacon through the darkness that lit up my world,"

It was Max's turn to cry now, and you saw a few tears slip down his rosy cheeks, "You were there for me when nobody else was, and you gave me everything I have ever dreamed of and more. There is no one else that I would want to raise Aleta side by side with, and I will forever be in your debt for that. You are the pot of gold at the end of my rainbows, my sunshine on a rainy day, my everything. I know that, with you, I can do anything and everything,"

There was not a dry eye in the house, and you were finally pronounced husband and wife. He held you as the pair of you skipped down the aisle, the world beneath your feet.

As you waited behind the doors to the reception room for your introduction as Mr and Mrs Verstappen, Max took your hand. "This is the second best day of my life," he smiled, squeezing your hand lovingly. "And the first?" you asked, but you knew what it was. It was the same for you as well.

"The day our angel was born," he smirked as the music started and everyone was cheering. You clapped along with them, taking your spot on the dancefloor. 'Can't Take my Eyes off You' by Frankie Valli sounded out through the hall.

He held his hands on your waist as your arms linked around his neck. As you swayed to the song, your friends and family shed a few more tears of happiness at the sight of you, and there was no wiping the ecstatic smile off your face.

Max had an equally goofy smile plastered on his lips, and he never wanted to let go of you. "Ik hou van je," he lightly laughed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"I love you too," you smiled against him. Max let you go and spun you around, your dress and hair fanning out all around you. As you were brought back to him, he detached himself from you and quickly dashed over to Victoria, who was holding Aleta.

He plucked your daughter out of his sister's arms and brought her over to you. He laced his other arm around you as you swayed with Aleta, who was giggling along happily. "I needed both of my girls here," he said, making your heart swell even more - despite the fact that you didn't think that was possible.

Aleta was looking all pretty in her little pink dress and her blonde hair was pulled into two pigtails on either side of her head. She was making some happy noises as the three of you twirled around the dancefloor.

You took her off Max, wanting to dance with your daughter. Holding Aleta in one arm, Max spun the pair of you with the other as she let out fits of high pitched giggles. As if life couldn't get any more perfect.

Max brought you back into his chest, Aleta resting comfortably on your hip. She had been making sounds of squeals and laughs, but then she said something. Max looked at you for a moment, confirming that he had actually heard what you had.

You nodded at him wearily, not completely sure. "Dadda," she said, louder this time.

"I'm not hearing things, am I?" you asked, looking at Max's dumbfounded expression with a stupid happy smile on your face. "I don't think I-"

"Dadda," she repeated, but with a lot more confidence.

"Oh my god I am so proud of you, my clever girl!" Max exclaimed, pulling the pair of you closer to him and kissing all over her face. She kept on repeating the word, and it sounded better each time. "That's me," Max cried, his voice cracking.

"Yes it is, darling," you responded. For the rest of the night, Aleta was showing off how clever she was to everyone in the reception. As the night drew on, people eventually started retiring to their rooms, and Aleta had gone to bed a few hours ago since it had been a long night for her.

"You tired?" Max whispered in your ear, lazily slinging an arm around your waist. Less people were dancing, and more people were sitting around, idly sipping at the remnants of their drinks. "Yeah," you confirmed, resting a tired head on his shoulder.

"I hope you're not too tired," he smirked, gripping you tighter.

"I think we could head back to our room early," you mumbled, before making your rounds and saying goodbyes. As soon as you could, the pair of you ran out, hand in hand, skipped up the stairs, and stumbled into your hotel room, unable to keep your hands off each other.

Now, you officially had forever ahead of you, and you had your favourite people all around you.

A/N - Do we want a bit more? Because I have more planned...

Tag List! (The wonderful people who commented on the last part <;3) @inkfablesandstories @luckyladycreator2 @rd14 @basicallyherondale @purplephantomwolf @halaxxxx @giffywiffy3408 @hauntingtherosebush @rosalysaoirse @mehrmonga @itsmytimetoodream @aundercover @glow-ish @hc-dutch @jorbridgerton1

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#f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagines #fluff #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen imagines

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ch3rrytales · 1 year

Text

i couldn’t be more in love - steve harrington

a/n: hi! here’s a lil angsty steve one shot for y’all (unedited) this is my first time writing steve so please be gentle with me. requests are currently open. thanks for reading and as always all support and criticism is extremely appreciated! hope you enjoy, lots of love - florie <3

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve’s fears of not being good enough for you cause him to end your four year relationship and leave you heartbroken. even though he tries his best to move on and let you go, his undeniable need to protect you results with you in his bed at the end of a night out.

word count: 7.8k

warning(s): cursing, crying, drinking, mention of weed, parental pressure, throwing up, angst, mentions of insecurity about self worth, smut, no use of y/n, steve and reader are 19/20.

“Ignore it.” Robin said, pushing an overflowing red solo cup into your hand, lukewarm beer sloshing over the rim to drip down your arm.

You shot her a glare and huffed, “I’m trying to.”

She stepped in front of you, blocking your line of vision to who you had been staring daggers at in the corner of the room.

Steve Harrington. Your ex-boyfriend. Your twin flame. Your soulmate. The love of your life.

And her. His new fling.

They had been going at it for the past 5 minutes, they hadn’t even stopped to catch their breath.

You could remember when you and Steve were like that, attached at the hip, disgustingly affectionate.

You weren’t even sure when you had stopped being like that. All you knew was that three weeks ago he had sat you down, taken your hands in his own, eyes glossy, and said the words you had hoped you would never have to hear from his mouth.

“I think it’s time we go our separate ways.”

The second he said it you felt something inside of you drop, trickle all the way down to the tips of your toes and onto the floor, it’s absence leaving your whole body cold. When you and Steve started dating, a comfort that you had never been familiar with before found a home in you and put you at ease for the first time in your life. When you were with him your head and heart were so full of love that any familial or personal pressures that typically plagued you were forced out, there was no more room for them. Your parents overbearing wishes and your perpetual fear of failure were overpowered by his sheer admiration of you, it had always been said that you were destined for greatness in all your endeavors, but Steve never really wanted greatness, he only wanted you. Until he didn’t.

Now you watched them and fought to ignore the pain stabbing into your heart. While his hands roamed over her body you thought back to a better time, a sweeter time.

- - -

Steve slung his arm around your shoulders as you walked past a group of football players who were passing around a poorly made bong on the front porch. They shouted various greetings to your socially esteemed boyfriend who returned their welcome with a nonchalant wave of his hand.

You tilted your head to speak into his ear as you passed through the front door.

“Whose house is this again?”

“You remember Jimmy? I introduced you two at my house last week.”

“Right.” you remembered, one of Steve’s teammates from basketball. “And you’re sure it’s okay that I came, you know without an invitation?”

Steve’s lips twisted up into a lazy smirk and he couldn’t help himself from pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“You’re my plus one, baby. Course it’s okay.”

As you made your way through the party you tried not to feel intimidated by the amount of people flocking to your boyfriend, guys pulling him into half assed hugs, and girls pressing into him, their glossed lips wrapping around sultry hellos.

Steve didn’t seem to pay it any mind, he kept his arm wrapped tightly around your waist ushering you through the crowd until you had reached the drink table in the center of the kitchen. He lifted you up so you sat in front of him atop the counter and shuffled his way between your thighs.

“Whaddya drinking?” he crooned, smooth as always.

“Dunno.” you mumbled, lost in the way his eyes burned into you.

“You want something sweet, honey?” he teased, his hands finding a home just above your knees.

You nodded dumbly as his fingertips traveled up and dipped just under the hem of your skirt.

“Me too.” he agreed and laughed softly, motioning to his lips with the point of his finger. “Lay it on me.”

You pecked him once leaving your cheeks warm and he hummed contently against you before pulling away.

“Alright, now that we’ve got that sorted. How bout a shirley temple?”

He started pouring soda and grenadine into a cup of ice, dumping in two shots of vodka to finish it off while you watched, your feet lazily swinging from where they hung above the ground.

“Cherry on top?” he asked, pulling a jar of maraschino cherries from the door of the fridge.

“Please.” you replied, sticky sweet.

“Well fuck.” he scoffed, twisting the lid off. “I’d cut my right arm off if you asked like that, honey.”

- - -

You were slowly nursing your second drink of the night and had no desire for a third. In all honesty what you really wanted to do was walk home and hide in your bed but you knew that wouldn’t be happening, Robin wouldn’t allow it.

She had practically dragged you from your tear soaked sheets and forced you into the little red skirt and matching cropped angora sweater you had bought impulsively as a post breakup gift for yourself.

“You really need to get out.” she said while you begrudgingly swiped mascara through your lashes, just a few hours earlier.

“I’m not ready yet, Robs.” you complained, turning in your vanity chair to face her. “What if he’s there? What if he’s with that girl?”

“That girl” being Donna, a stunning hair stylist who worked at the salon across from Family Video. Robin had been keeping you filled in on their budding romance since it began, how she had come in one Tuesday and slid a gum wrapper scribbled with her number across the counter with her perfectly polished nails while Steve was helping her checkout. He had taken her out that weekend and they had been seeing each other casually since.

Robin threw a fashion magazine she was flipping through on your bed to the floor, “Who cares? You know I love you and I wouldn’t want to say anything to upset you while you’re-” she paused to grimace at the pile of soggy tissues covering your nightstand. “...fragile. But, obviously he’s moved on and it’s killing me to see you still stuck on him when you’re so clearly out of his league.”

You stared at her blankly, “I’m out of his league?”

“Duh! This is Steve Harrington we’re talking about, I once watched him have a 20 minute “lightsaber duel” with Henderson using a mop.”

You scrunched your nose trying to hide the fact that you found that incredibly endearing and not at all dorky before you responded, “Yet he’s the one who dumped me.”

She sighed in full dramatics flinging her head off the end of your bed so she was staring at you upside down, “Exactly! What kind of a dingus would do that?”

You frowned at yourself in the mirror before powdering your nose for the third time, “Someone who’s moving on to better things.”

“I call bullshit.” she declared. “How does it get better than you? Once you get yourself all pretty and a couple of drinks in your system you’ll forget who Steve Harrington even is.”

“Doubtful.” you retorted.

Robin came behind you, her expression pitiful as it reflected in your mirror. “But, would it kill you to try?” she asked hopefully.

You shrugged and swiped a cherry scented gloss across your lips, “It might.” you said honestly. “But, I guess I’ve got nothing left to lose.”

Robin beamed at you through the mirror and smacked a kiss to the top of your head before practically skipping to the other side of your bedroom.

“Well, then hurry.” she said, pulling her pin-covered denim jacket over her shoulders. “We leave in 10.”

Now that you were at the party, staring at the person you loved more than anything in the world with his tongue down another girl's throat, you realized you did have something to lose, the contents of your stomach.

You turned to Robin, who was beside you eyeing a girl who had come into Family Video last week in search of any Molly Ringwald movie she could get her hands on.

“I think I’m gonna yack.” you whispered.

“What?” she questioned. “You’ve hardly had anything to drink.”

“It’s not the alcohol making me queasy.” you replied, gesturing to Steve and Donna pressed against the wall opposite to you.

“I thought I told you to ignore him?” she said, still slightly distracted.

“Easier said than done.”

She took a moment to look at you, her best friend. It honestly hurt her to see you so down on yourself. All she wanted was for you to have a good time after weeks of sobbing in her arms and isolating yourself in your room. She looked around the room until her gaze fell upon a beefy blonde eyeing you from the beer pong table.

“You wanna play a game of pong?” she said, gesturing to the table.

“Not really.” you replied, your eyes unmoving from Steve’s back.

“Too bad.” she decided, tugging you behind her.

“Robinnn” you complained, following her.

When the two of you reached the table the blonde in question sauntered over to you, drinking you in with his stare.

“You girls up for a game?” he shouted over the music.

You shook your head timidly while Robin replied, “Absolutely.”

The boy pulled you into his side with an arm around your back and spoke into your ear, “You’re on my team, babe.”

You looked helplessly to Robin who only nodded and mouthed to you, “Go for it.”

“You got a partner?” he asked her. She looked around and shrugged.

You turned your focus to reorganizing the scattered cups on the table into a pyramid, your head shooting up when your new partner’s voice cut through the room.

“Harrington!” he called. “Come play, we need another person.”

Robin’s eyes widened as she tried to assess what the quickest escape for you would be.

But Steve was faster, approaching the table with Donna under his arm still unaware of your presence.

He saw Robin first, her face red and eyes locked on yours. Then he focused his attention on the man beside you who once again pulled you close and then spoke, “It’s you and her against me and this pretty thing.”

Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact.

Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand.

“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.”

As quickly as he was there he was gone.

You were seconds away from crumpling to the ground when Robin pulled you from the man’s arms.

“Fuck,” she said, her hands on your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I had no idea he was coming over here.”

You shook your head, dismissing her apologies. “It’s not your fault, I just-” your voice cracked and you looked at her wordlessly. “He didn’t even acknowledge me.”

She frowned and pulled you into a hug, “He’s a massive idiot.”

“Are we still playing?” The blonde asked, dumbfounded.

“Sorry, but fuck off.” Robin replied, before walking towards the kitchen, arms still wrapped around you. “We’re taking shots. Lots of them.”

“I’m not in the mood.”

Robin pulled a bottle of vodka from the many assorted liquors lined up on the table in front of you.

“Y’know how they say the best way to get over someone is to get under them?” she asked, already pouring the shots.

You nodded weakly.

She shoved the tiny glass into your hand, “That’s a lie.” she declared. “The best way to get over someone is to get absolutely shit faced.”

You recalled Steve’s expression when he saw you, it was cold, not exactly unbothered but withdrawn. You recalled her hands on him, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, and her words affecting him.

You slung the glass back, the liquid bringing a welcome burn to the back of your throat. Then you took another. Then another. Then another.

Within the hour you were somewhat distracted from your heartache. You and Robin were squished together on a couch with Nancy and Jonathan, all giggling drunkenly in response to the story Jonathan was sharing of an encounter he had with an inebriated pizza delivery boy the week prior.

You had lost count of your drinks and your head was feeling increasingly heavy to hold up, making your neck ache. You didn’t really mind the pain, in fact you welcomed it, this pain was much easier to manage then the dull throbbing kind that had been tormenting your heart. Your head fell back against the cushion behind you and you felt as if the world was spinning off its axis beneath you. Your elbow dug into Robin’s side making her groan in annoyance. The lights in the room started to overwhelm you and a wave of nausea washed over you.

“Robin,” you mumbled, eyes squeezing shut.

“Hm?” she hummed in response, her head lolling to the side.

“M’gonna be sick.”

“Now?”

You swallowed thickly and shakily rose to your feet. “Right now.” you confirmed. You started pushing past people in pursuit of the bathroom, you could hear Robin behind you faintly.

“Coming,” she said. “Slow down, I'm right behind you.”

You ran up the stairs, as fast as you could in your current state, hands clawing the railing for balance. You stumbled through the hallway, checking behind you when you had reached what you hoped to be the bathroom door only to realize you had lost Robin along the way.

Your clammy hands turned around the knob and your body fell limp against the door as it swung open, fluorescent light invading your eyes. You dropped to your knees and shoved the door shut behind you, too nauseous to attempt locking it. Your hands shook as they gripped the toilet pushing up the seat before heaving roughly into the bowl.

Your eyes squinted shut as your head pounded, the music playing from downstairs was slightly shaking the foundation of the house and you were suddenly longing to be carried away and tucked into your bed.

You thought of Steve, not whoever it was you encountered downstairs. But your Steve, the one who would give you piggyback rides from the bar to where his car was parked blocks away when your feet hurt. The one who sat criss-cross applesauce on Nancy Wheeler’s bathroom floor with you in his lap, peppering your shoulders with kisses when you got too drunk last New Year’s Eve.

You brought the back of your hand to your mouth wiping roughly, your cheeks were wet with tears. You must’ve been sitting there for at least fifteen minutes, thoughts lingering on the past. When had you even started crying? You tore at the toilet paper roll beside you and balled up a sizable portion, you wiped at your eyes furiously, disregarding the mascara that was surely staining your face.

What a mess.

You shuddered at the thought of Steve seeing you like this, messy and broken and crumpled on the floor. You wondered what he would think, if he would feel sorry or just sorry for you.

As if the universe were playing some sort of cruel joke on you, while the thought floated around your head you heard the door unlatch and when you reluctantly followed the sound you saw him standing above you like some sort of awful miracle.

He looked shocked first, not expecting anyone to be in the room, but then the guilt washed over his face and you knew he had realized what he really walked into.

“Fuck, hon-.” he stuttered, his hands reaching out instinctively.

The half murmured term of endearment felt like a punch in the gut and you physically winced as he approached you.

His eyes filled with hurt at the way you reacted to his entrance, he used to scoop you up in his arms and quiet any of your pain with nothing but his presence and whispered words of comfort.

“Go,” you pleaded, your voice scratchy and raw.

“I can’t just leave you lik-” he sighed, and looked at you helplessly, as if saying what do you expect me to do. As if leaving you heartbroken and soiled on the bathroom tiles would be physically impossible for him, like he wasn’t the reason behind it.

“Are you okay?”

You sniffled and stared at the floor, “Please go.”

Steve squatted beside you and hesitantly reached out. He swallowed hard when you flinched under his touch as he pushed the hair out of your eyes, ensuring it was only mascara marring your pretty face and you weren’t physically harmed.

You refused to meet his eyes and when he tried to pull you off the ground, tugging gently on your hands, you shook your head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you protested.

“Taking you home, c’mon.”

“No,” you argued. “Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-”

“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.”

“You’re drunk. I’m not-”

“I’m stone cold sober.” he informed, bringing his finger to his nose and then extending out as if he were doing a field test.

You finally locked eyes with him, and the unshed tears that sat brimming on your waterline seemed to drown him.

“I can’t, Steve.” you cried. “I can’t be in a car with you and…her.”

His shoulders fell a little and his expression softened ten fold.

“She’s not- I wouldn’t put you through that.” he said, as if it were obvious. “That’s why I’m not drinking,” he explained. “I already took her home, she’s babysitting her little brother tomorrow morning. She couldn’t stay late.”

You scoffed wetly, “How responsible of her.”

“Be nice.” he warned and you wanted to punch his perfect face.

“I’m not nice.” you slurred, under your breath.

“Bullshit,” he replied. “If someone hit you with their car you’d be the one to apologize.”

“Not anymore.”

“Don’t buy it.” he dismissed “Can you walk?”

“M’fine.” you clipped, rising to your feet while trying to ignore the feeling of the ground swaying under your feet and the pit of nausea still living in your stomach. “Gonna walk home.” you decided, pushing past him to get out of the tiny restroom.

He caught your forearm in the hallway, steadying your wobbly walk. “Yeah right. I’m taking you home. C’mon, I’m parked out front.”

You tried to tear yourself out of his grip, blaming the fluttery feeling in your stomach on your overindulgence.

“I don’t want your help. Okay?” you barked.

He ran his free hand through his hair and sighed, discouraged. “Look, I know you must hate me right now and I understand…” he paused and his expression remorseful. For a second you caught a glimpse of the man you loved, the man you still love. “Three weeks doesn’t erase four years. Please, let me take you home.”

Your will to fight him dwindled fast and you had to actively restrain yourself from embracing him and burying your face in his chest.

“Robin-” you started. “I can’t just leave her here.”

“I know.” He smiled sadly, still in complete awe of the way you cared for those lucky enough to be loved by you. “Go wait by the door, I’ll make sure she has a way home.”

“Thank you.” you mumbled.

“Of course.” He said, the second half of the sentence dying on his tongue. Anything for you.

You slowly made your way to the door and leaned against the wall, forcing air into your nose and out of your mouth in heavy puffs. You could feel your nerves buzzing beneath your skin at the prospect of being in a confined space with the person who dizzied you most in the world.

When Steve returned your eyes had drifted shut and your hands rested on your temples.

“Nancy and Jonathan are gonna give her a ride, they’re leaving in about an hour.” he informed. “You okay?”

You nodded slowly in response, “Thanks again.”

He hummed and opened the door for you, his hand instinctively finding its way to rest on your lower back and guide you out of the house.

When you got to his car he opened the passenger door, helping you in and leaning across you before you had a chance to shut it to secure your seat belt into place. Your whole body tensed when his fingers brushed against your hip and he muttered an apology.

He joined you in the car and switched on the radio before pulling away from the party in the direction of your house. Neither of you spoke as you exited the neighborhood so you laid your head against the window and watched the trees under the dim street lights as you passed by.

He turned a corner and you pressed your fingers into the leather seat beneath you to fight the unrest in your stomach that arose from the car’s motion.

“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.”

Steve’s fingers tightened around the wheel and his eyes flicked to the side to see you looking at him timidly.

“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp.

He couldn’t tell you the real reason behind his return, that he had been in agony imagining you at the party saddled up with some former jock, no one there to supervise your open drinks, or to ensure you had a safe way to get home.

“And now you’re driving me home.”

He realized leaving again before the party was over contradicted his lie and cleared his throat.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You felt the sadness that had been lingering in you all night slowly turn to anger.

“Of course I’m not.” you clipped, facing out the window again.

“Sorry,” he said. “That was probably a stupid thing to say considering…” he trailed off, biting his lip so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he were to draw blood.

“Considering you dumped me and got a new girlfriend within a few weeks?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” His heart hurt at the idea that anyone but you could hold that title.

He turned into your neighborhood and you had never been more thankful to see your house in the distance, that is until you realized all the lights were still on. Your parents were still up. Fuck.

To anyone else this may not have been a big deal, you were legally an adult but that never seemed to matter to your parents who were as strict as nuns when it came to drinking.

Steve seemed to notice the lights as well because his car came to a stop a few meters before your driveway.

“Well shit.” he remarked

“I can’t go in.” you said. You knew you must’ve looked quite disheveled, most likely smelled of alcohol and while you felt much more sober since emptying your stomach you knew there would still be a sway in your walk and a slight slur to your voice.

“You can stay at mine tonight,” he offered.

You laughed in amusement and anger. “I don’t think so. I can go to Robin’s.”

“She’s staying at Nancy and Jonathan’s and they won’t even be there for another 45 minutes at least. You can sleep in the guest room.”

He put the car in drive again and started towards his place before you could argue anymore.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, nothing but the quiet hum of the radio and the drum of Steve’s fingers on the steering wheel. When he pulled into his garage you got out before he had the chance to do anything annoying and chivalrous like open your door or help you exit the vehicle.

You stepped inside the house that may as well have been haunted, every nook and cranny linked to some fond memory you shared with your ex boyfriend. The kitchen where he had miserably failed at cooking you an anniversary dinner, the shower where he carded his fingers through your sud soaked hair, the bed where you had lost your virginity and he held you in his arms till the morning came. Every part of this house was woven into your love story and you felt suffocated within its walls.

He threw his keys onto the kitchen table and kicked his shoes into the corner as you stood frozen in front of him taking in your surroundings as if for the last time.

“You can shower if you want,” he offered. “There’s some towels in the guest bathroom.”

“Okay.” you replied coolly.

“Just stay there a sec, I’ll go grab you some clothes.”

Your eyes were glued to a slightly faded polaroid of the two of you stuck to the fridge with a Hawkins High Basketball magnet. The fridge was barren otherwise, Steve’s parents not the type to decorate with school pictures or family memorabilia. The photo had been taken the night Steve told you he loved you and the night you returned the sentiment. In the picture your cheeks were pressed together, spread taut with matching smiles. You had been so happy that night, quite opposite to how you were feeling now.

Steve startled you from your thoughts with a gentle hand on your shoulder, he followed your line of sight to the photo and spoke, “One of my favorites. You looked breathtak-”

“Steve,” you cut off coarsely. “Just stop it.”

“Sorry, I just…it doesn’t matter. Here,” he said, handing you a stack of folded clothes that you recognized as your own. “I didn’t think you’d wanna wear anything of mine and I remembered I had these in the back of my dresser.”

You accepted them with no word of thanks and tried to convince yourself that he was right, that you hadn’t wanted him to hand you a pair of boxers and one of his sweaters still lingering with his cologne.

Once you reached the bathroom you stripped yourself of your uncomfortable party attire and turned on the hot water. You stood under the sweltering stream and welcomed the burn, letting all the rage you felt for Steve bubble up and swarm your head for the entire duration of your shower.

When you finished you hastily pulled on your clothes, your skin was now scorched and your anger hot and irrational. You stormed towards his room and swung the door open with not so much as a knock. There he sat in the dark, only the moon providing any illumination. His body stretched across his bed on top of the covers, head tilted to the ceiling with nothing but a pair of plaid pajama pants resting lowly on his hips.

“I hope you know,” you started, startling him with a finger pointed lethally in his direction. “I’m not going to go around thinking you’re some great guy just because you took pity and helped me tonight.”

Steve could only flick his eyes in your direction briefly, too emotionally exhausted from the night to even sit up. “That’s not why I did it.”

“Oh, of course not.” your voice dripped with sarcasm.”King Steve is just such a gentleman he couldn’t have it any other way. Don’t act like tonight was motivated by anything other than guilt.”

“Do you actually believe that?”

“You brought that beautiful girl and you just carried on with her like I wasn’t even there. Then when it broke me you just had to come along and pick up the pieces.”

“I’m tired.” he muttered, your name following the statement almost inaudibly. He was tired of fighting with you, tired of seeing the way your eyes burnt into him no longer with lust but something even stronger, hurt.

“You don’t think I’m tired? You don’t think I wouldn’t give anything to close my eyes and not see her hands all over you?”

“Fine, I regret it. I should’ve thrown away her number the second she gave it to me. I should’ve never brought her to the party. Is that what you want to hear?

“No!” you cried. “It’s you who shouldn’t have come to the party and you shouldn’t have come back after you left. You could’ve just let me have this one night, I needed it.”

“I don’t regret that. I had to go to the party, you know that.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

His eyes softened, “It has everything to do with you.”

Suddenly you saw the events of the night under a completely different lens.

- - -

Then Steve saw you, your cheek mushed against the blonde douche’s shoulder, bottom lip wobbling as you suffocated in the unexpected eye contact.

Donna leaned in and whispered something in his ear that made his jaw clench and he shooed her back gently with the wave of his hand.

“Sorry, bud.” he said, eyes unmoving from yours. “Not interested.”

“Looks like she moved on after all.” Donna had purred in his ear.

He looked at you cozied up to someone new and saw nothing but red. He had to get out of there fast.

“Why would I do that? No, I’m- I’m here with Robin, she’s-”

“She’s passed out downstairs,” he interrupted. “You need to go home.”

He searched the party desperately, only able to catch his breath when he saw Robin laid across the couch, mouth hung open, Nancy and Jonathan not far by. He forced through the crowd till he reached her and felt his heart rate skyrocket when you were nowhere to be seen. He shook her shoulder till she roused enough to open her eyes a sliver.

“Where is she?” he asked, voice urgent. “Where, Robin? Is she okay?”

Robin grumbled and rolled over but not before muttering two words, “Sick. Upstairs.”

“So, why’d you come back?” you asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Y’know after you dropped her off.”

“I said I’d help clean after.” he lied, swallowing the truth with a forced gulp.

“And now you’re driving me home.”

He had never once stayed after a party to clean, not even for his closest friends, and certainly not for some former football player he had interacted with maybe 4 times in his life who still found spitballs to be the height of comedy at the ripe age of 21.

- - -

“You were looking for me.” you realized.

Steve met your eyes and exhaled heavily, “Aren’t I always?”

You held eye contact and despite the dimness of the room he could see your chest heaving up and down with troubled breaths. You turned to leave and Steve fell back against his pillows, scrubbing his hand roughly against his face.

Just as you were about to cross the threshold into the hallway you spun on your heel and faced him again.

“Steve, I-I’m sorry okay? I don’t know why I can’t be civil with you. I feel like my whole life has been flipped upside down over the past few weeks. And I know I can’t blame you for falling out of love with me… I just can’t- I’m not ready to see you fully over us-” your voice cracked painfully in the back of your throat.

“Baby…” he sighed sadly, sitting up in his bed.

You felt tears spring to your eyes, bringing your hands to your face and then dropping them shakily. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at you sorrowfully as your body finally gave out, succumbing to the tears. Before you could stop yourself your legs carried you towards his bed, falling forward on top of him and wrapping yourself around his body.

“Please- I just, I need to-”

You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence but Steve always had a knack for reading your mind and he knew exactly what you meant. You needed to feel him, to hold him again, breathe in his scent, run your fingertips over his skin. He knew because the feeling was all too familiar, he felt it before he shut his eyes every night, before the sun rose through his curtains in the morning, and every moment in between.

Wordlessly he closed his arms around you and your nose pressed into his bare collarbone. His hands traveled up, threading into your hair, cradling your head against him.

“Breathe,” he cooed. With his chin tucked into your neck you could feel the wet lick of his lips when he spoke.

“I’m not fully over us,” he admitted. “Not even close.” He laughed, humorlessly, nudging his nose under your ear, “You’re honestly doing my head in.”

You let your eyes fall shut, wanting to take in every bit of this moment, unsure if you would ever experience anything like it again.

“I really miss you.” you whispered into the diminutive space between you.

A pained noise slipped out from Steve at your confession. He wished you could see the bigger picture he had sketched up in his mind, how in a few years he would be a blip in your memory, a single dim star amongst the blinding constellation of your future accomplishments.

Steve may have been considered slightly ditzy around town but he had never been stupid, he knew you were too good for him, he always knew. From that very first kiss in his BMW four years ago when the two of you were only 16 he knew that the way you felt for him would be temporary. The admiration in your eyes would fade and the curtain would fall. He wasn’t King Steve like he had been in high school, he was just Steve, plain unpromising Steve.

You had always been gifted, you were going places, you had aspirations. The only aspirations Steve could ever remember having were in regards to you, taking care of you, loving you, putting a ring on your finger, making you his wife, and eventually building a family with you. A loving happy family, nothing like the kind he had grown up with.

He wanted the best for you, and as much as it fucking devastated him he wasn’t sure that meant him anymore.

But his resolve was growing thinner, wearing down with each exhale that passed your lips to tickle his skin.

“I miss you too, honey. So much.”

“But, Donna-”

“Isn’t looking for anything serious.” he finished for you. “She’s good company but she's not you. No one is.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I can’t explain it.”

“Why not?” you pleaded against him.

“It’s better this way. I promise, it will be.”

You nuzzled further into him, “How?” Your lips ghosted his clavicles and he trembled. “How could it be better than this?”

His leg slotted between your thighs, pressing you into him. You jumped at the feeling, a symphonic sigh exiting you against your will.

“Shit- sorry.”

You panted and shook your head. “No, don’t be. It’s good.”

He readjusted in an attempt to put some space between you, feeling himself getting sucked into your hazy arousal rapidly. You felt the familiar outline of his excitement against the side of your legs and he hissed.

“This would be real fuckin’ selfish of me.” he struggled to say while you chased his lips, yours already pouted in anticipation. He caught your face and held it in place in front of his own, searching for any lingering signs of intoxication, “You’ll never forgive me tomorrow.”

“I’m fine,” you said honestly. The shower and time passed had sobered you up fine.

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll hate me for leading you on.”

“Are you?”

Steve pondered your question and tried not to let his face show how unsure he was of the answer. Could he really stay away from you? Would either of you ever be able to fully move on from your paramount love?

You read him like a book and grazed his chest with the tips of your fingers, bringing him back to you.

“Even if you are, I couldn’t hate you.”

He swiped his thumb across your eyebrow and watched your eyelids flutter in response. “I hate myself for hurting you.”

You leaned forward until your noses bumped and spoke into his mouth, “Then make up for it.”

Finally, Steve closed the space between you with a hungry kiss. His lips were warm and chapped against yours, his teeth scraping against the suppleness of your bottom one to pull your mouth open and allow him to show you just how sorry he was.

For the first time in weeks you felt your lungs fill with no resistance and strain against your ribcage with a welcome sort of discomfort, like an overfilled balloon you were seconds away from popping and Steve knew it.

His hips rutted against yours and one of his hands slowly traveled down from the velvet of your cheek to palm roughly at your breast. The feeling made your breath catch in your throat, coaxing a high pitched squeak out of you and Steve smiled against your lips, his teeth knocking yours.

“Feels good?” he asked.

“Mhm.” you hummed as he turned his attention to your neck, nipping and kissing the dewy surface. “Always does. You always do.”

His responsive whimper is slightly muffled by your skin but you bathe in it.

“You too.” he reciprocated. “I won’t last long if you keep talking like that, you’ll knock my fucking lights out.”

“Sorry,” you said sweetly, leaving him bewildered at how you could be so sensual and so adorable at the same time.

You sat up, straddling him. Your hands traveled south to breach the barrier of his waistband and wrap your hand around him.

He sucked in a pained breath and tugged the shirt barring his view over your head. “M’hurtin, honey. Lemme feel you.” he pleaded.

You pulled the shorts you wore down your legs leaving you bare and Steve took in the sight as if for the first time.

His hands caressed your stomach, sliding downwards until they rested firmly on your hips which twitched in anticipation.

“Somehow I forgot how perfect you are.” he revealed, his words drenched in sincerity. “No one is this perfect,” he pinched your heated skin once and you whined. “You’re a fucking novelty.”

You stared down at him and wondered if he had ever really looked at himself in the mirror. You scraped your nails lightly down his chest, “You are.”

He coughed and denied it with the shake of his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips for a loving kiss. “I’m nothing compared to you, baby.”

Desperate to get on with it you raised yourself above him hovering whilst lining him up to you. Steve watched your face as you nudged his tip against your clit, your eyebrows pulled together and mouth falling into a gaping “O” shape.

You shimmied forward a little bit and slowly started to sink onto him, pausing as soon as the tip was in. You winced at the stretch and were reminded that it had been a while since you had taken him at all, let alone like this.

“You okay?” he asked, holding you firmly in place to be sure you didn’t slip any further before you were ready.

You nodded, but stayed still. “Hurts a lil s’all.”

Steve kicked himself when he realized he had done nothing to get you ready for him. “I’m sorry, honey. I should’ve prepped you a bit. Hop off a sec.”

“No,” you protested, letting yourself drop another inch or so. “I didn’t want you to. I jus’ want you inside.” you whined as you sunk all the way down, ignoring the burn in your stomach.

Steve cursed to the ceiling as you fluttered around him and he forced himself not to lift his hips and grind even further into you.

He clenched his teeth as he spoke, “Is it painful?”

“It’s perfect.” you answered in more of a sigh than anything else.

“Yeah?” he said, reaching forward to circle your clit with the gentle movement of his thumb.

When you moaned and rolled your hips forward he praised you in a rambled jumble of words.

“Fuck. Holy fuck, baby. You're so good, so so good for me. Shit. Warm and fucking tight. God, am I making you feel good? C’mon talk to me, lemme hear that pretty voice.”

You nodded, brain fading into a lust filled frenzy. “Feels unreal, Stevie.”

You tried to raise yourself with shaky legs but he stopped you with a firm grasp.

“Wha-”

“You think I’m gonna let you do any of the work tonight? It’s not happening, baby. I’m making it up to you, remember? Lemme make you feel good, hm?”

He lifted you with hardly any effort and then pulled you down again, the drag of him against your walls pulling a series of sweet moans from you.

Repeatedly, he bounced you against him, encouraging you with candied praises every time your face pinched in pleasure or you clenched around him, dizzying his head.

After a few blissful moments you felt a wave of pleasure rush to you like the tide to a shore and you panted out a warning.

“Stevie- I’m gonna,”

“You gonna cum for me, honey? C’mon give it to me. I’m right there with you, sweet girl.”

You shook and cried out as your release drowned you, sweeping Steve into the current right alongside you.

You collapsed forward in exhaustion and he held you against his sweat slick body, peppering gentle kisses across your forehead.

“You here w’me?” he whispered.

“Yes.” you replied, voice light. You pulled yourself off of him and tried not to think about the loss, tried not to think about what would happen now.

Rolling over next to him you shivered at the cold air on your bare skin and he wordlessly tucked you under his arm and rubbed his hands up and down on your arm, sparking a friction fueled warmth.

He watched you carefully unable to decipher the thoughts behind your head for what seemed like the first time ever.

“What’re you thinking about?”

You swallowed and tilted your head up to look at him. “What happens next.” you admitted.

He nodded in understanding. “What do you want to happen?”

“Steve.” you chided. “You know what I want.”

“Honey…”

“Do you love me?”

“Of course I do.” he said shocked.

“Then what’s exactly the issue with us being together?”

“It’s complicated. It’s not about me not loving you or not wanting to be with you.”

“Then what is it?” you demanded, sitting up and pulling your previously discarded shirt over your head.

He ran his hands through his sweat damp hair in exasperation. “We don’t make sense anymore,” he admitted.

You bit your lip to hide your hurt and spoke timidly, “Why not?”

“Our lives are gonna go down really different paths and I don’t want to be the douchebag high school sweetheart that holds you back from everything you’re capable of. I’m gonna end up here, working some mundane job, having a few kids and accomplishing nothing special. And that’s fine, I’m content with that but that’s not you.

You frowned at him.

“You’re meant for something bigger. Everyone knows it. I won’t give you some simple life when you deserve a grand one.”

You felt white hot anger seeping through your skin and pushed yourself off the bed bitterly. Without saying a word in response you started searching the room for your shorts, feet stomping with every step.

“What are you doing?” he asked, anxiety clear in his voice.

“I’m leaving.” you said.

“It’s the middle of the night.”

“I don’t care.” you hissed. “You really think you’re helping me by making decisions for me? Do I not get any say in what I want?”

“Of course you do, that’s what this is about. One day you’re gonna want more than I can offer you. I'm just trying to make it easier for you.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “You really have no idea what I want then.”

“So tell me.”

“Steve.” you said, shimmying your shorts back up your legs. “I want you. No ifs ands or buts. Have I not made that crystal clear the entire time we’ve been together?”

“You have but-”

“No, I’m not done. You’re right, I don’t want a simple life. I want to settle down here, in the town we fell in love. I want to marry you and have kids with you. I want to make dinner with you every night and after we eat I want to wash the dishes while you dry. I want to take your clothes out of the dryer and fold them while they’re still warm. I want to kiss you every night before I go to bed and roll over next to you every morning. I want us. A life where we end up together couldn’t be simple because it’s us together, and I love you so much more than any other possible outcome.”

He stared at you bewildered. “You do?”

“Yes! I’ve been in absolute hell these last few weeks over this?”

You approached him and took his hands in yours.

“Look,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry that people in your life have made you believe that you aren’t the talented, smart, capable and loving man that I know you are but none of them matter when it comes to our relationship. That’s just us, me and you. And I know,” you pressed a hand to your heart. “There’s no one in the world who could give me a better life, or love me better than you. I love you, Steve.”

He looked up at you, half sorrowfully half hopefully, “Does this mean we’re back together?”

“Do you want to be?”

“Of course I do. I’ve been miserable without you.” he replied.

“And who’s fault is that?” you laughed, the mood in the room beginning to mellow out into the typically comforting setting you were accustomed to when you were with Steve.

“I’m sorry I ended us and that I tried to make your choices for you.” he said. “I promise I won’t do it again. Oh, and I love you, like more than anything else in the world and I’m fucking devastated that I made you think I didn’t.”

“I love you too.” you echoed, melting into his arms once again not planning on letting go anytime soon.

He pressed his nose into your hair and smiled, lopsided. “I’ve got a lot of making up to do, y’know.”

“Good thing you have the rest of our lives.”

He tugged you onto the bed making you break into a fit of giggles as he pressed sloppy kisses over your entire face.

“I think I’ll start right now.”

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington blurb #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut

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familyvideostevie · 16 days

Note

alright, hear me out. i looked through the prompts list and can we give roommate!steve a little airtime beCAUSE—

trying to not hit anything or each other, when there is a power outage and it’s way too dark

— is SO steve coded. i wanna see this man during a power outage. please and thank you. i love you.

hi baby. here you go. sorry it took so long. it is the first thing i have written in about 6 weeks so apologies for it's roughness. i adore you. thank you for helping me give steve Harrington his triumphant return. | fluff, 1.3k, roommates!au

Summer storms in the Midwest always take you by surprise. The never-ending expanse of blue sky becomes crowded with swirling grey clouds without warning and everything stills, like the very fabric of time is holding its breath. Until the dam bursts and rain pounds on your windows, the roof, the pavement with wild abandon. Deep, rumbling thunder follows bright flashes of lightning.

You find it relaxing. A steady, reliable chaos into which you settle without complaint.

Well, usually. Your roommate, Robin -- a talkative and whip-smart girl who makes you laugh-- enjoys storms just as much as you do. It's one of the only times she settles, so you often read side-by-side in companionable silence. Sometimes, if you're feeling bold, you'll both dance in the rain.

But Robin is on some six-month trip for brilliant people and she's left you with a subletter.

"My best friend Steve," she'd said. "Come on, I talk about him all the time. You basically know him."

It's true. Robin is full of stories and this Steve is in most of them. A funny, brave, well-intentioned guy who is a bit of an idiot and has a great head of hair.

And now he's living in the other bedroom. And he's hot. And he always does his dishes and remembers to put the seat down after you scolded him once for doing otherwise and you have a crush on him.

It's annoying. He's been here for like, three weeks and keeps asking you where the spoons are and you like him.

But Steve? You are learning that Steve does not like summer storms.

In the few you've had since he arrived you've noticed that he paces, or sits in the living room with the television turned up high, or something noisy. You've never asked him about it because honestly, he could be much worse as far as roommates go.

You can hear his radio through the wall and it's making it hard to focus on your book. You should really go to sleep but this chapter is really good and does he have to be so loud? Maybe you should get up and ask him to keep it down --

A flash of lightning makes it seem like daylight in your room for a brief moment and then everything is dark. Everything.

"Fuck," you say. The power must have gone out. A clap of thunder so loud it feels like your building shakes startles you. You hear a shout from the other side of the wall.

It's not as hard as you'd expect to feel your way to your bedroom door in the dark. You manage to do so without injury apart from bumping your hip on your dresser.

But when you open your door you smack into a solid wall of warmth. Your fingers grasp for purchase and find none -- only bare skin.

"Jesus Christ --" Steve says. He manages to prevent you both from falling over and holds you at arm's length in the dark. "What are you doing?" His voice is tight and he squeezes your shoulders once before releasing you.

"Uh," you say. You're certain that he's not wearing a shirt. You can feel that he's not wearing a shirt. "The power went out."

He huffs. "Wow, thank you. I had no idea."

You wish it wasn't dark so you could see his face. Three weeks hasn't been enough time to learn all of his expressions. "Were you sleeping?"

It feels like a dumb question considering how loud his music was.

"Yeah," he says. "Obviously I was sleeping. It's like, 1 am."

"Just go back to sleep. If you can, under the volume of your radio."

You imagine him wincing. "Sorry," he says. "I don't, uh. Sleep well during --"

Lighting illuminates the hall and you see him for one brilliant second, messy hair, bare chest rising and falling, boxers slung low. Boxers with...are those...bananas? Then: darkness, thunder. You sense his flinch.

"That," he says flatly.

A smile creeps its way onto your face and you allow it because he can't see. The fact that this guy, your temporary roommate, your sort-of crush, is afraid of thunderstorms fills your chest with warmth. It's endearing. It's adorable. It makes you like him so much more.

You ease past him and into the dark of the rest of the apartment.

"Woah, woah," Steve says. "Where are you going?" You hear him follow you and immediately run into something. He curses. You keep your hands out to avoid the same fate.

"You okay?" you call back.

"Why do we have so much furniture?" he grumbles. "Fuck, that hurt."

You don't correct him that we actually means you and Robin.

"Watch where you're going," you say lightly.

"Oh, ha, ha."

Careful steps take you closer to your destination. "Go look for candles in the kitchen," you tell him. "They're in the drawer by the trash."

"Uh, okay," Steve says. He bumps into things with quiet curses on his way as you look for the matches that should be in the closet. "Why? You could just go back to bed. I'm fine."

You chew on your lip. He's right. But you want to hang out with him. The dark makes you honest. "The thunder is loud," you say. "I won't be able to sleep. We might as well hang out."

He laughs, the first genuine one all night. "Oh, you want to hang out? In the dark? You know what this sounds like, right?"

Ah, the famous Harrington charm Robin has told you about. It makes your cheeks feel hot and you can't hide a smile. Steve ruins the moment by running into something again.

"Fuck! Jesus --"

"Steve, be careful."

"I can't see anything!"

You sigh and finally find the matches. Box in hand, you carefully make your way to the kitchen, your eyes adjusting just a little and making it easier.

Steve is looking in the wrong drawer. You should just tell him so, but instead you reach for him, fingers circling his wrist and dragging it to the right one. His skin is warm under yours, the back of his hand softer than you'd thought it would be. You open the drawer together and hear the candles roll around inside.

His face is a dark outline but you focus on the dark and think you see his eyes. You wish you could see him.

"Found them," he says. You're much closer than you realized, so close you feel his breath on your cheek. Steve leans in -- or maybe it's you, you have no idea, and your noses brush. He puts a hand on your hip, fingers sliding under the hem of your sleep shirt and burning you like a brand.

Your eyes slide close and you miss the flash but not the boom that follows, sending you both about a foot in the air and away from each other.

"Shit," you gasp. Steve laughs and you join in, giggling in the dark like teenagers.

Maybe this is a one-night thing, the darkness making you both a little lonelier and a little braver. But you've got months more of him and the idea of spending that time being something more than just roommates? It's appealing, to say the least.

You reach for Steve in the dark and he must have been doing the same because your fingers tangle without much effort.

"Come on," you say. "Let's light the candles and sit on the couch. I'm sure the power will come back on eventually."

He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back. "Okay," he says, a smile in his voice. "Don't let me run into anything."

You grin at him in the dark and hope that come morning he'll be familiar with it in the light, as well. "Don't worry, Steve," you tell him. "I've got you."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

#emmas5kgarden #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harringotn fluff #stranger things fanfic

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serpentandlily · 8 months

Text

Wicked Games III

Wicked Games - Dark!BatBoys x Reader

Summary: Desperate to pay off a debt, you decide to break into the penthouse of one of Prythian’s richest males, one rumored to make his money in a less than legal way. But after witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, you find yourself caught in a wicked game of cat and mouse with three of the most dangerous males in Prythian. (Modern AU)

Warnings: smut (minors dni pls), dubcon, dark themes (if you would like more in depth warnings before reading, feel free to message me!)

a/n: Thank you so much for all the love/kind words you guys have left me regarding this series! I know I'm shit at replying to comments but I do read them all and they def warm my cold lil heart. Hope you guys enjoy this one ;)

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

༺♥༻

Part III

༺♥༻

A week had gone by with no word from Rhysand, something that both relieved and also frightened you. You were still embarrassed about that night at the club with them. You had let them touch you, had let them bring you so close to the edge. In public too. As soon as Rhysand had dropped you back off at your apartment that night, you felt mortified.

Still, the silence this week had put you on edge. Every noise made you jump, everywhere you went you looked over your shoulder constantly.

Either Rhysand had considered your debt to him paid, or this was another mind game to him. He hadn’t even texted you. And it wasn’t like you could text him. No number had shown up the last time he had texted you.

You were left in a state of limbo and you should’ve felt peace at his lack of a presence in your life, but it was only the opposite.

You were currently curled up in your bed, watching a show on your small laptop before your shift tonight, when a knock at your door had you almost throwing the laptop across the room.

You swallowed audibly, your pulse spiking. Fuck, was it Rhysand? Had your devil in disguise returned?

“Bunny, open up,” Tamlin shouted through the door. “It’s me.”

Shit. Fucking shit. You forgot that you still owed your ex money, money you were meant to get to him this week. Now part of you was wishing it was Rhysand at your door.

You got up from the bed and opened the door to see Tamlin before you, a hand resting against the top of the doorframe and a grin on his face.

You watched as his green eyes darted behind you, looking into your apartment as if he were checking for something before they returned to your face. He brushed past you into the apartment despite your noise of protest. You closed the door behind you and rested against it, crossing your arms.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you said. And you meant it. If you were still being watched and a male was seen coming into your apartment, chances are he’d end up dead. “I don’t have your money yet.”

Tamlin raised a brow. “That’s what I’m here to talk about. Do you want to tell me why I got a personal visit from the Shadow this week who paid off your debt to me in full?”

Your eyes widened in shock. That was not at all what you were expecting him to say. “I’m sorry, what?”

Tamlin roamed around your apartment, picking up random trinkets and stuff thrown about. “You heard me correctly. One of Rhysand’s dogs came and paid off your debt. And I heard a rumor that you were seen with Rhysand himself at his night club. Do you want to explain that too?”

You bristled at his tone. You didn’t belong to him anymore. He had no right demanding information from you. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business. Shouldn’t you be happy that you were paid?”

Tamlin scoffed, turning to face you. “So it’s true then? You’re whoring yourself out to Rhysand of all people? Gods, bunny, I knew you were stupid but this…this is truly idiotic.”

You clenched your fists in anger. You released a long breath, trying to maintain your composure. “Tam, I think you should leave. If my debt is paid off then we have nothing to talk about.”

“Like hell we do,” he snapped at you. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all week long. Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

“I got a new phone,” you replied. “Sorry.”

He sighed and held out his hand. “Give it to me.”

You pulled your phone from your pocket and handed it over. It was easier to just do as he said instead of arguing about it. It would get him out of your apartment faster too.

His eyes widened as he looked at the new iPhone but then narrowed. “How the hell were you able to afford this?”

He grabbed it and started entering his number. “It was a gift.”

He scoffed again, sending himself a text from your phone. “So is that why you broke up with me? Was I not rich enough for you? Decided to go suck the dick of a felon for more money?”

“I really think it’s time for you to go now.” You glared at him, ripping your phone out of his hand. “For your own good.”

“Whatever,” he muttered, pushing you out of the way to storm from your apartment. “Don’t try calling me to bail you out of jail once you get caught fucking Rhysand.”

He slammed the door behind him, rattling the walls. You rolled your eyes just as your phone dinged.

Unknown: I take it by the look on Tamlin’s beastly face that you didn’t let him fuck you?

You: Still watching me? Why don’t you go find a new hobby to partake in? Unknown: Why would I do that when I get so much pleasure from watching you without you knowing where I am?

A picture was sent a second later. A blurry shot of you inside of your apartment in just your underwear. You let out a curse.

You: Fucking pervert. Unknown: If I’m a pervert, then what does that make you, little mouse? You were ready to come all over my lap in the middle of a club. Or did you already forget about that?

Fuck no you hadn’t forgot about that. It was all you thought about late at night. That desire, the hot feeling of their hands on you, the pulsating music and lights.

You: Fuck you

You made sure to add the emoji of a middle finger to the end of that message.

Unknown: Oh you will, little mouse, you will. You: Like I said, you’re delusional and sick in the head if you think I’ll ever want any part of you. Unknown: Oh, little mouse, you have no idea just how sick I am. But you will find out. Be ready by 8pm tomorrow night. And wear that little black dress again. It’d be a shame if I never had the chance to rip it off you.

You sent him the emoji of a middle finger again before tossing your phone down on your bed. You were not ready for another night with him…with them. Not when the need for all three of them still burned inside of you.

༺♥༻

It was a black SUV that was waiting outside for you this time. Azriel hadn't come to get you at your door either. The driver opened the backseat door for you and you slid in, noting it was just Rhysand waiting for you inside.

He gave you a feline grin, his eyes raking over your body, clearly pleased with what he saw.

"Where are you taking me this time?"

You didn't waste any time with a greeting. Rhys raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for something. You rolled your eyes when you realized what.

"Where are you taking me this time, sir?" you spat out.

"I'm attending a personal event tonight and I need a date."

"So is this how repaying my debt to you is going to work? Just act as your escort until you decide I've repaid you? I'm sure you can find another girl willing to accompany you for free."

He smirked at you, throwing his arm over the back of the seats, his fingers brushing against your shoulder. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch and by the glint in his eyes, you knew he had felt it.

"It's cute that you think this has anything to do with a debt you owe me, darling."

You crossed your arms with a huff, "Then what the fuck else does it have to do with?"

"Such a filthy mouth," he chided. "I already told you, little mouse. You were mine from the moment I laid my eyes on you. I gave you a week of freedom, but don't get any ideas, darling. You are mine and I will do whatever I want with you."

"I am not yours."

"And you think I'm the delusional one."

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was such an arrogant prick. Before you could reply, the car stopped and the driver interrupted their conversation.

"Sir, we are at our destination."

The driver stepped out of the car, opening the door for you. Rhysand came around the other side of the car and held out his hand for you. You begrudgingly took it.

Rhysand gave the driver a dip of the head. "Thank you, Charles."

You were standing in front of a large mansion, servants already waiting at the door to open it as you two walked up the front steps. Rhysand dipped his head at the servants as you passed and the sound of chattering became more clear once you stepped through the threshold.

A slinky looking male walked up to greet you. He was handsome, if not for the pinched look on his face, with light blonde hair and pale skin.

"Rhysand, so glad you could make it tonight," the male said, sounding anything but pleased.

"Keir," Rhysand greeted back. "I would never dream of missing one of your parties."

Keir, you had heard that name before. He was the mayor of Hewn City. Surprisingly, this was your first time ever seeing him.

The sarcasm in his voice was evident. If Rhysand didn't want to be here, then why had he come? It didn't seem like this Keir guy wanted him here either.

"And who might this be?"

Keir's eyes roamed over you, making your insides curl with disgust.

"This is y/n," Rhysand said. "My fiance."

What. The. Fuck.

He was lucky you hadn't grabbed one of the champagne flutes being passed around by servants or the wine would've sprayed out of your mouth. Why the fuck would he call you that?

Keir's eyes lingered on your hand. "Hm, no ring for the beautiful lady?"

"It's being custom made as we speak." Rhysand grinned, dangerously. "But I got ahead of myself and proposed without it. It was hard not to when she looks like this, wouldn't you agree? Didn't want her to get snatched up by some other male."

“Of course, congratulations,” Keir agreed, though it sounded anything but friendly. “If you’ll excuse me, there are some other guests I have yet to greet. Please, enjoy my party.”

You let out the breath you were holding in as the male disappeared into the crowd. Your eyes instantly shot to Rhys.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed under your breath. “Why did you introduce me as your fucking fiancé?”

“Not here, darling,” he answered with a grin, his eyes darting around to the people surrounding you.

He led you through the crowd, occasionally saying a greeting to those he recognized. Many eyes followed after him, you noticed, then lingered on you. You were met with more jealous stares from other women than you could count.

Rhysand pushed a champagne flute into your hands but you noticed he didn’t have one for himself. “Drink, darling, relax. We are here to be stared at, enjoy it.”

“You don’t seem to like Keir all that much,” you whispered to him, sipping on the champagne. “So why bother coming?”

“Because, Keir likes to believe that he has full control over his shitfilled little city and I like to remind him who is really in charge every once in a while.”

“Watch it,” you grumbled. “I live in that ‘shitfilled little city.’”

Rhysand leaned down, his breath brushing against your ear. “Not after tonight, you don’t.”

You glanced up at him. “What?”

But he stood back to his full height and said nothing else, eyes looking over the people still staring at the two of you. You felt your cheeks turn a bit red at all the attention.

You were silent as you finished your glass of champagne, placing it on the empty tray of one of the staff members walking by once it was empty.

As soon as you were done, Rhysand linked his hand with yours again.

“I think we’ve been seen enough. Come, there is something I wish to show you.”

You followed him out of the crowd and away from the main room. You soaked in the beautiful paintings and rich decor as he led you down an empty corridor and into a conservatory.

Your eyes widened as you spun around, glancing at the ornate room. Flowers of all shapes and sizes were spread everywhere, along with a few chaises and armchairs. The windowed ceiling and walls let you see the night sky, the stars glimmering above you.

It was something you had only seen in magazines and movies. It was stunning, beautiful. You turned to face Rhysand to see him staring at you already, a soft smile on his handsome face.

Your cheeks turned a bit pink, causing his smile to turn into a grin. He sunk down onto one of the chairs and tugged on your hips until you were sitting on his lap. The familiar position from the club already had your blood turning to fire.

“I hate the man,” Rhys started. “But Gods, he does have one of the best views of the stars.”

You looked up again, agreeing. One of Rhysand’s large hands wrapped around your waist, dragging you back to his hard chest while the other rested on one of your thighs.

“Are you going to tell me why you told him I was your fiancé now?” you asked as his fingers began to rub circles on your waist.

“Because you are,” Rhysand murmured, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. “I told you, little mouse, you are mine. I intend to make you my wife because I am never going to let you go now that I’ve found you.”

You were fucked in the head. Seriously. Because his kiss and his words caused heat to start coiling in your lower stomach.

“You truly are insane,” you whispered.

And he was. Rhysand was one giant, walking red flag. But you had never had good taste in men anyways.

“Am I?” he whispered back.

He kissed your shoulder again before moving up your neck to your jaw. Your breath hitched as his finger grazed the underside of your breast. He smiled against your skin, pulling you even closer.

“You know, I’ve been watching you all week long to see if you would follow my rules,” he murmured, huskily. “And darling, you have been a very, very good girl.”

You arched into his touch now, gasping as his hand trailed up your ribcage to brush against your breast. You should really be putting a stop to this. But…fuck it. It was a hot being in the hands of such a powerful man.

His hand continued its journey until it wrapped around the front of your throat.

“And good girls deserve to be rewarded,” he purred into your ear. “Don’t you think?”

His other hand pushed your thighs open and you swallowed audibly. Your eyes darted to the door leading into the conservatory where anyone could walk through.

You needed to put a stop to this. “Rhysand, someone could walk in at any moment.”

The hand that was resting on your throat gripped you by the chin instead and turned your head to look up at him. His pupils were blown, his pretty violet eyes now a dangerous black. His gaze darted between your own eyes and lips, hungrily.

“They all know better than to follow me, darling,” he said.

His hand hiked your dress up to your hips and you caught his wrist. “W-What are you doing?”

He shrugged off your grip. “Relax, little mouse. Let me take care of you.”

Your skin was flushed with desire, a whimper escaping your lips as he stroked your clothed center. He pushed your thighs further apart and you let him, cursing yourself in your head.

“That’s it, darling,” he praised. “Take your reward like the good girl you are.”

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your thong and began to drag it down your thighs.

“Really, Rhysand, s-someone could come in,” your voice cracked as he dragged your thong all the way down your leg and over your black stilettos before sliding it into his pocket.

Despite your protest, you did little to stop him. Didn’t even close your legs. You were a fucking idiot. And you would regret it later. But for now…

A wanton moan slipped from your mouth as Rhysand’ fingers stroked your bare pussy. You ground your hips into him, gasping as you felt his hardened length beneath you.

“I think that just turns you on even more, little mouse,” he teased, brushing his fingers against you again. Your cheeks flushed at how wet you were already. Something Rhysand seemed very pleased about.

He groaned as you shifted your hips again, digging into his hard cock. He started rubbing your clit with his fingers and you tossed your head back against his shoulder with another moan.

He kissed your exposed neck, grazing the fragile skin with his sharp canines.

“S-stop,” you choke out. “We shouldn’t.”

His fingers left from between your thighs and you’re protesting groan went completely against what you just said.

“Stop,” he mocked, bringing his fingers up so you could see the glistening shine on them from your arousal. He ran them down your lips, spreading the taste of yourself on them. “Does this taste like you want me to stop?”

He shoved his fingers into your mouth.

“Suck,” he commanded.

It was instinctual, primal even, to listen to him. You sucked on his fingers and he let out a groan as he watched you, turning you on more. The taste of yourself covered your tongue.

He yanked his fingers free and placed them back between your legs, lightly brushing your aching center.

“Say anything other than my name and you don’t get to come,” he growled. “Do you understand?”

You bit your lip as he began to rub your clit in circles again, staring down at where his fingers were touching you.

He forced you to look up at him again, his grip on your jaw so tight you let out a pained whimper. “I said, do you understand?”

You nodded as his fingers continued their assault, leaving you panting. “Y-yes, sir.”

He gave you a devil's grin. “Good girl.”

And then his lips smashed against yours. They were soft, softer than you imagined and you eagerly kissed him back as that electric feeling continued to build and build in your lower stomach. He tilted your chin up, deepening the kiss with a growl as his fingers slipped from where they had been rubbing your clit to tease at your entrance.

He swallowed the moan that came from you with his kiss before he suddenly thrusted one finger inside of you. You gasped in pleasure, which he took advantage of, sticking his tongue in your mouth and claiming it as his.

You withered in his lap, grinding against his hard cock as you panted, his finger thrusting in and out of you. Your vision nearly went white as he added a second one, filling you so deliciously.

Your head fell back against his shoulders, breaking your kiss apart. “Rhys.”

He trailed kisses down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking on your flesh. “You’re doing so good, darling. Gods, you are so tight. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my dick.”

You groaned at his lewd words, your orgasm building.

“Rhys,” you begged, grinding your hips in rhythm with his fingers. You had been so on edge all week and thinking about that night in the club, so you knew it wouldn’t take very long to make you come around his fingers.

“That’s it. Come for me, darling,” he purred into your ear.

His thumb brushed against your clit and that was the final thing that tipped you over the edge. You mewled his name over and over again as your orgasm crashed through your whole body, arching into him. He kept thrusting his fingers in and out, riding you until your nails were biting into his skin.

You fell limp in his arms as he finally pulled his fingers from you. You watched through hazy eyes as he brought them to his own lips this time and licked them clean. “Gods, you taste so good.”

You were still trying to catch your breath, letting him pull your dress back down. He admired your flushed face, your swollen lips with a grin. “See, wasn’t that so much better than being punished?”

You nodded, your eyes still hooded and Rhysand chuckled.

“Is my little mouse tired now?” he cooed. He patted your butt, helping you stand on shaky legs. “Come, let me take you home, darling.”

He guided you out of the mansion with a hand on the back of your neck until you reached the black SUV waiting for you. Charles was there, opening the door already. Rhys helped you slide inside before coming around the other side of the car.

He pulled you into his side, letting you rest your body against his as the car started up, and you let him, finding some comfort in his warmth. Within a few seconds of driving, you felt your eyes slowly start to shut.

What felt like a minute later, you were jostled awake only to realize Rhysand was carrying you out of the car. You blinked, trying to wake fully but still felt so lethargic. How long had you been driving for? Keir’s

mansion hadn’t been that far from your apartment.

“Where are we?” you slurred as Rhys pushed your head into the croak of his neck, carrying you up what seemed to be steps.

“Home, darling,” he murmured to you.

You didn’t think twice about his words or you might’ve realized that you had a different understanding of what that meant than he did. Only nodded and closed your eyes again, falling back into a blissful sleep.

༺♥༻

When you woke up the next day, you were met with the sight of an unfamiliar room. You jolted up, the black sheets you had been under pooling at your waist. You had no idea where you were. Your eyes darted around the huge, ornate room.

The walls were a cream color with gold moulding. A huge window was on the left side of the room, beautiful dark red curtains partially covering its view. You were in a four poster bed with a gauzy canopy. There were a total of three doors on the various walls, all closed except one that led into what looked like a bathroom.

Where the hell were you? The last thing you remembered from last night was Rhysand telling you he was taking you home. But this was certainly not your home. Hell, there was no way you were even in Hewn City. You could tell by the lack of smog in the sky from the view out of the window.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed,

rising. You frowned when you realized you were no longer wearing the dress from last night but a skimpy nightgown. The wood floor was cold under your feet as you made your way to the bathroom, happy to find a still packaged toothbrush and toothpaste.

Once you had freshened up, you explored the other doors in the room. The first one you opened led to an empty hallway. You quickly shut it and went to the other one which opened to a walk-in closet. Your eyes narrowed as you took in the only things hanging in there. Lingerie of all types in all different colors, sheer and silk robes, and heels.

You grumbled to yourself, grabbing one of the silk robes and putting it on over your nightgown, not that it did much to cover you more.

You hesitantly made your way into the empty hallway, slowly walking as you listened for any signs of people. There were doors lining the walls but you didn't open them, hoping to find a living room or something of that sort instead. You must've been in a mansion because you swore the hallways seemed neverending.

"Is that a little mouse I see scurrying around?"

You let out a noise of surprise, jumping at the loud, cheery voice that called out from behind you. You whipped around to see Cassian standing at the end of the hallway, his chest bare with his shirt thrown over his shoulder and glistening with sweat. You couldn't stop your eyes from roaming his body, his insane, god-like body. Gods, who the hell made him?

When you met his eyes again, the grin on his face told you he knew that you had just been checking him out. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Where am I? What is this place?"

"This," Cassian chimed, "is our home, little mouse. Rhysand's mansion. Our compound. Call it what you want."

"I thought he lived at The Sidra."

Cassian ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. "No, who the fuck would want to live in Hewn City—no offense! That is just where we do our business when it involves that city, so no one knows where we actually live."

"Okay," you said slowly. "So where the hell are we? And why am I here?"

“This property is so big, it’s basically its own small town. You won’t find anyone else for miles and miles, little mouse, so don’t bother running,” he winked at you. “As for why, I’ll let Rhys explain that. Speaking of, he asked me to check if you were awake and to escort you to his office.”

You begrudgingly walked to him, letting him start the course to Rhysand’s office, hoping to get some answers.

“I heard you two had quite the night, little mouse,” Cassian said, grinning down at you.

You had to admit, next to Cassian you were basically a little mouse. The male was a giant, at least a foot taller than you. But something about his demeanor made him less threatening. He seemed like the friendliest out of the three. Not as dark and foreboding as the other two.

Your cheeks turned red as you looked away. “So Rhysand is the type to kiss and tell. How juvenile.”

Cassian let out a laugh that made you do a double take. He was beautiful. Not as pretty as Azriel or regal as Rhysand, but equally attractive in his own way. More masculine and brutal in his beauty.

“I’m telling him you said that,” he said.

You shrugged your shoulders, examining the place as you walked down the hallway. Outside of the room you had been in, the rest of the place had a much more modern feel, with dark gray walls and dark flooring.

“Here we are,” Cassian said, stopping you just before a large set of double doors. He pushed them open, gesturing at you to walk-in first like a gentleman.

Rhysand’s office was huge. The first thing you noticed was the wall that was a window, overlooking the backyard. Rhysand was sitting at a large desk in front of it, in an armchair that resembled a throne.

Bookshelves lined the walls, many books and expensive looking trinkets on them. On the other side of the room was a weapons rack locked behind a gated case full of guns and pistols.

Your eyes went back to the desk, noticing now that Azriel was also in here.

“Sleeping beauty is awake,” Cassian announced in greeting. “Found her roaming around the halls.”

“Thank you, Cass,” Rhysand said with a dip of the head.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I think it’s time I give our little friend Devlon a visit.”

Cass nodded at Rhys and stepped out of the office, closing the doors behind him. You watched him until he disappeared from view before turning back to face the other two.

“Come here, little mouse,” Rhysand said, pointing to the empty chair that Azriel was leaning against across from him.

You took a seat, looking at Rhysand cautiously. He was wearing a black t-shirt that showed off the black swirling tattoos on his arms, ones you hadn’t seen before.

“Why am I here? I thought you were taking me home last night, not kidnapping me,” you snapped.

Rhys placed his arms over his head, leaning back in his chair like a king with no crown. “You are home, darling.”

“Stop with the bullshit, Rhysand. Take me home. Now.”

“Like I said, little mouse, you are home. This is your home now. I won’t have my fiancé living in that squalor.”

“I’m not your fucking fiancé! You’re psychotic! Take me home!”

“We really have to do something about that mouth, don’t you agree, Az?” Rhysand looked at the shadow that was hovering behind you.

He must’ve nodded because Rhysand looked back down at you.

“I’m not playing around, Rhysand,” you growled. “Take me home!”

Rhysand rose, placing his palms on the desk as he peered down at you. “And I’m not playing around either. It is not safe for you to live in Hewn City now that I’ve told Keir that you’re my fiancé.��

You threw your hands in the air. “Why on earth did you have to tell him that then? I am not your fiance. I am not your girlfriend. I am simply someone who owes you a debt that you literally met only two weeks ago.”

“I’m growing tired of this, little mouse,” Rhysand snarled, prowling around the desk until he stood before you. “I think I have made myself very clear. This has nothing to do with a debt. You are mine. Mine.”

“And I’m growing tired of you acting like you own me! I am not yours!”

“Really? Let me ask you this, little mouse. Does anybody else make your body sing the way I do? Has anyone’s touch ever turned you on fire like mine? Admit it. Your body belongs to me. All I’m missing is your heart. But that’ll soon be mine as well.”

You felt heat creep up your neck because he was right. A simple touch from Rhysand did cause a spark inside of you that you had never even felt before. Even Cassian’s touch that night at the club had awoken something in you. Like your darkest desires had been unleashed that day and now, no other touch would compare. But you didn’t want him to know that. For your own dignity.

“You think very highly of yourself, Rhysand,” you scoffed, looking away.

But he had seen the color on your cheeks, had seen the darkness burning in your eyes.

“Look at me,” he ordered. You swallowed, your eyes darting back up to his striking face. A muscle in his jaw was clenched and he rose to his full height. “You live here now. This is your home. It is not safe for you to return to your apartment and frankly, you were never safe there to begin with. I’ve already had someone retrieve the important things from your place and they are all waiting for you in your new room, the one you woke up in. You are not locked up here. I will give you a car. You may come and go, but you will always tell either me, Azriel or Cassian when you are going to leave.”

He had a point. Your neighborhood was extremely unsafe. And if people knew what you meant to Rhys, it would only put a target on your back. You cursed him in your head. This had been his plan all along. To find a reason to make you live here.

“And what if I take the car and never come back?” you asked, staring defiantly up at him.

He smirked. “Then I will find you and we can play this game of cat and mouse forever.”

You bit your lip, wanting to retort but the look in his eyes, that feral, crazed looked stopped you. This was the most powerful and dangerous male in all of Prythian and you knew without a doubt that he would find you, no matter how far you ran. This beautiful, lethal male was obsessed with you…and you were fucked up for being so utterly turned on by it.

“Did I make myself clear?”

You nodded and he looked at you expectantly.

“Yes sir,” you grumbled.

Just because you were agreeing, just because you were filled with craving and desire, didn’t mean you were just going to throw yourself at him. No, you would make this just as difficult as he did.

“Good. Now get on your knees,” he commanded.

Your eyes widened. “W-what?”

“I said get on your knees, little mouse.”

You hated the way your body listened, falling to the floor in front of him.

“Take off my belt,” he ordered.

You glared up at him. “Fuck you.”

“See, that’s why you’re in trouble right now. That filthy mouth,” Rhysand growled. “Take off my belt, little mouse. Don’t make me ask you again.”

You continued to glare at him as you reached up and started to undo his belt, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as you realized he was rock hard underneath his pants. You yanked it from him roughly and he smirked as he grabbed it from you, handing it to Azriel over your head.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as Azriel bent down on his haunches behind you. Rhysand gave him a nod of the head and suddenly, two scarred hands were grabbing your wrists and twisting them behind your back. You let out a yelp as you felt Azriel loop the belt around them, trying to shrug him off, but he was much stronger. He tightened the belt until your wrists were secured behind your back to the point of pain.

“What are you doing?” you hissed up at Rhysand.

Rhysand unbuttoned his pants with one hand while the other landed on your head, stroking your hair. “Teaching you another lesson, little mouse. If you want to have a filthy mouth, then I expect that you to do filthy things with that mouth.”

He unzipped his pants and pulled his hard cock free. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of him, at how large he was. You had felt it against you, of course, but seeing it was different. You couldn’t help but imagine it ramming into you over and over again until you screamed.

“Open your mouth,” he directed.

You shook your head, pressing your lips together.

“Open your mouth, now,” he ordered again, his voice as dark as night. You just glared up at him, keeping your mouth firmly shut. He let out a scoff and looked at Azriel who was still kneeling behind you. “Azriel.”

You didn’t know what that command meant until you felt Azriel’s hand wrap around your throat from behind. You restrained from opening your mouth and he began to squeeze and squeeze. You whimpered at the pain but kept your mouth shut until your lungs were empty of air, burning in your chest. He eased the pressure a little bit and you finally gasped for air.

Rhysand took the opportunity to thrust his dick into your mouth, using the hand on the back of your head to guide you. You choked as he hit the back of your throat, tears forming in your eyes. He let out a groan, tossing his head back.

“Come on, little mouse, suck my cock and you might get a reward yourself,” he growled.

Fuck it, you decided. If you were going to do this, you were going to completely own him like he thought he did you. You hallowed out your cheeks and flattened your tongue, bobbing your head. He hissed, his hand tangling in your hair. You ran your tongue down the vein on the underside of his cock, pulling another groan from him.

You glared up at him, tears slipping down your cheeks as you choked on his dick, taking him as far as you could. He started pushing your head back and forth for you, fisting your hair. You used every trick you had in your arsenal, drawing moan after moan from his mouth.

“Fuck, darling, your mouth feels so good,” he growled.

You continued to glare at him.

“Oh don’t look at me like that. I know you’re enjoying this,” he grunted, thrusting his cock in your mouth, fucking your face as you could do nothing, not even brace yourself against his thighs with your arms held behind your back.

You scoffed around his cock, denying his claim.

“So if Azriel were to touch you right now, he wouldn’t find your dripping with how much this turns you on?”

You growled, causing him to groan again at the vibration. He looked at Azriel and suddenly a hand was reaching down between your legs, pushing your panties to the side and stroking your center. You moaned at the touch of his fingers, already knowing what he found. He lifted his fingers, showing off the glistening arousal coating them.

“Thought so,” Rhysand grinned, fisting your hair even tighter. “Continue, Azriel.”

You had no idea what that meant until you felt Azriel’s fingers stroking your pussy again. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he rubbed circles around your clit. You were absolutely throbbing.

Rhysand continued to thrust into your mouth, grunting as his pace quickened. “Gods, you take me so well, darling. Like your mouth was made for this cock. Fuck.”

His dirty words only turned you on more. You could feel your own arousal dripping down the side of your thigh. Azriel’s other hand slid between your legs, his fingers teasing your entrance as he continued to rub your clit. You gasped as he slid a finger inside of you, pulling it back out slowly, and then roughly thrusting it back in.

You were certain you had never been more turned on in your life before. Stuck between these two males, one fingering you from behind while the other used your mouth brutally. You cried as Azriel added a second finger, continuing in pace with Rhysand’s thrusts into your mouth.

“Fuck,” Rhysand snarled, his thrusts became sharper, faster. Tears were pouring from your eyes as he hit the back of your throat time and time again, making you choke on his dick. “That’s it, darling. Gods, just like that. Fuck.”

It was so hot how much control you had over Rhysand in this moment, despite the position they had put you in. He was a slave to you right now. You were the owner of his pleasure. You moaned around his dick as Azriel quickened the thrusts of his fingers inside of you.

You felt Rhysand tightened in your mouth before he slammed your head to meet his thrust, burying his cock into your throat, chanting your name over and over. You choked as hot liquid spurted into your throat but Rhysand kept you there, his cock buried in your mouth, not letting you go. You swallowed all of his cum until the veins in his arms were protruding from the overstimulation. He finally pulled out of your mouth, letting you gasp for air.

As soon as your mouth was free, Azriel ripped a hand away from your pussy and grabbed you by the back of the throat. He pushed you forward until your face was pressed against the ground, your ass in the air. You moaned as he pushed his fingers deeper into you while holding you down.

“God, please,” you mewled.

“I am no God,” Azriel growled into your ear, his voice so dark and sensual, it pushed you closer to the edge.

His hand tightened on your throat until your vision was nearly white and your body was shaking with pleasure. You felt your orgasm building and building, pushing your hips back to meet each thrust of his fingers until you cried out his name, wave after wave of pleasure taking over your body.

He didn’t stop as you pulsated around his fingers, didn’t stop until you were crying and begging him to. Only then did he yank his fingers free. Your body went limp as you panted, his hand finally leaving your throat so you could breathe properly.

“And that is what you get for obeying me, little mouse” Rhysand purred from above you.

༺♥༻

The next day, Rhysand gave you a full tour of the entire place. You were blown away. There were two huge garages full of sports cars, motorcycles and SUVS. An indoor and outdoor gym. Three different pools and hottubs. A weapons room. A fancy, formal dining room along with another more intimate one. Many different rooms for meetings. An intel room full of high-tech computers and equipment. A large living room with a massive tv, fireplace and sitting area. A beautiful kitchen that was stocked with just about everything you could dream of.

It was truly an unbelievable place. He even had gardens outside, five different gaming rooms, a lounge, four different bar set-ups. Cassian had been right when he described it as a compound.

Once the tour was over, it had taken just a little over an hour, Rhysand led you to the kitchen to get some lunch. They also apparently had a personal chef who made all their meals. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. You had been poor all your life. Had never even been to a hotel that was half as nice as this place was.

Rhysand was explaining some of the rules they had here when Azriel and Cassian walked into the kitchen, both shirtless. Your eyes raked over their bodies, unable to stop yourself. You looked back at Rhysand to see him grinning. You scowled at him. You waited until they left before you said anything.

“Do you also make them walk around half dressed?” you gestured to your own attire. Your closet was still only full of lingerie and robes. When you had asked for clothes, Rhysand had just told you he much preferred you like this.

“Oh no, darling, they are doing that on your behalf,” he purred.

Your eyebrows raised. “What? On my behalf? What do you mean?”

“Well, you see, Cassian and Azriel have a bit of a bet going on.”

“What does that have to do with them hardly wearing clothes?”

“They’re both trying to entice you, darling. The bet is for which one of them you’re going to fuck first.”

“Who says I want to fuck either of them?”

“Still playing this same game, little mouse?” He gave you a look that had your jaw clenching.

“And what about you? Are you not part of this bet?”

“Oh no, darling. They both know you’re going to be fucking me first,” he grinned. “They have strict orders not to have you before I do.”

“Is that so?”

You bit back a grin, suddenly twisting at the thought of a new challenge. You looked at the door the two male had disappeared through. You were absolutely going to do everything you could to make one of them disobey Rhysand. It would be fun to finally have some control over the situation, to finally knock the arrogant leader down a peg.

But which one was likely to give in first?

Well, that was something you were definitely going to find out.

༺♥༻

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eomayas · 11 months

Text

all the rumors are true • bbh

pairing: idol!baekhyun x f!idol!reader

genre: fluff & angst

synopsis: your secret relationship with baekhyun getting revealed, and what comes after.

warnings: none!

a/n: very self indulgent lmao i had this thought a few days ago and needed to get it out! the ending is a bit choppy i ran out of thoughts. heavily unedited and not proof read 🫣

“yes, i take care of all of them,” you laugh, nodding at the radio show hosts question about if it’s hard being a leader to a group of 4, including yourself. “especially our youngest.” you say, glancing over at sunny, the baby of your group.

“what’s the age difference between you and her?” the host asks.

“six years,” you say, making the host gasp.

“ah, so you’re 28… that means she was 16 when you debuted?” the host looks between you and sunny, both of you nodding. “wow, so you probably have had no time for dating since even before debut!”

you laugh, though it’s 90% true, which sucks. “yes, because she was so young when we were trainees—we all were—i was always with them to make sure they stayed out of trouble and weren’t around strange people,” you say, your eyes sliding over all of your members. “so, no, there hasn’t been a lot of time to date. but i’m not mad at that because i was taking care of my babies.” everyone chuckles at the last bit and mingwa puts her head on your shoulder.

“y/n needs somebody to take care of her!” heejin, the second to youngest member shouts. you smile and shake your head at her words, though they’re unbelievably true. if only the public knew that you were, though. that instead of laying your head on a soft pillow every night, you lied down on a hard chest and let strong arms hold you tight, while soft kisses on the top of your head lulled you to sleep.

“girl, i’m your candy,” sunny sings quietly. you don’t cut your eyes at her immediately, but the panic bubbles in your chest. nobody mentions her singing, or sings along, but sunny and mingwa share a quick look that freaks you out, makes you paranoid that in a few hours when the video recording of this session is posted, speculations will start.

you glance at sunny, hoping to catch her eye, but she’s engrossed in what the host is talking about. you can barely hear above your heartbeat in your ears, the blood rushing through so quickly it’s starting to give you a headache. you try to discreetly regulate your breathing, trying to remember those videos talking about square breathing that you found online. nobody seems to notice, except mingwa who taps your forearm and looks at you with concern that you brush off.

you manage to make it through the rest of the interview as normal as possible. you start talking a lot less, letting your members share more about themselves and the group, and nobody except for mingwa clocks that you were mentally somewhere else.

saying your goodbyes, the four of you get up and shuffle out of the radio station and into the outside world where dozens of cameras await. the shutters fly at rapid pace, and the flash on some of them are nearly blinding, but you and your group smile and pose, despite the chaos happening.

shuffling into the car, you let the three others get inside first. you take the last seat in the sprinter van and buckle yourself in, resting your head against the headrest. “y/n, are you alright?” mingwa asks, concern clear and evident in her voice. you let out a breath and sit up, turning around to look at sunny.

“why did you start singing ‘candy’, soojin?” you ask, using her full name. she looks at you with wide eyes at her government being called and holds her hands up in surrender. “do you know what people are going to say?”

“sorry, mom,” she shoots back, giving you an incredulous look. “all they’re going to say is that i’m acting exactly like how the youngest person is supposed to be acting—interrupting you and singing over everybody. nobody is going to say anything about you and baekhyun.” you press your lips together, stumped because she’s most likely right, even though you have an inkling in the back of your brain that somebody is going to take notice, and make something out if it.

“well, you don’t really want people thinking you go around interrupting everybody,” you chastise. sunny rolls her eyes at you and sighs dramatically.

“we are quite literally the perfect group—i don’t know why you are so worried about our image all the time,” she says. you decide that the conversation is over, and sit facing forward again. sunny doesn’t understand that everything, at the end of the day, falls on you. people look at you like you birthed these girls and raised them up yourself. if one of them screw up, it falls on the entire group but rests on your shoulders to clean up. your image is so important to uphold, because there has only ever been one scandal to your groups name at the beginning of your careers that you did everything possible to stop the public from shaming you and the girls. it’s not easy to do that.

the ride is silent, save for their nails tapping against their phone screens. you sit with your eyes closed and your head leaned back, ready to dive into bed and maybe call baekhyun. maybe.

“would it really be that bad if everybody knew about you and baekhyun?” sunny asks, cutting into the silence. you open your eyes, but don’t turn around. the hair on your arms stands up at his name being mentioned so loudly, somewhere that isn’t the safety of your dorms.

“yes,” you reply. you think about the uproar it would cause, and what it would do to your career. his would be fine, of course, because the dismissal is never the same for men as it is for women. your group would probably have to disband, or you’d have to leave. it would look terrible, especially since you are the leader, if this was public news. “it would be awful, sunny. i cant lose my career over a man.” and while a nasty pang of guilt rips through your chest, it’s the truth.

“but… you told me you think that you love him. that’s not enough?” when she says these words, it’s like she’s 16 again, asking you why the world was mad at your group for a rumor about heejin. her voice is small, naive almost, and it reminds you how far apart you two really are.

you can’t help that your eyes start to water. “soojin, can we talk about this later?” you ask, blinking back the tears. you swallow thickly and pull your headphones out of your pocket, turning up your music loudly to block out any thoughts of you and baekhyun, and the public finding out.

getting back to the dorms, you head straight for your room. you close the door behind you and pull out your headphones and sigh, your head pounding. flopping onto the bed, you bury your face in the pillows and close your eyes.

you’re disrupted by a knock only moments later, and you let out a breath before telling whoever it is to come in. “y/n?” sunny’s voice calls from the doorway.

“yeah?” you roll over and sit up on your elbows to look at her. she gives you a sheepish smile and comes over to your bed, crawling in bed next to you like she used when you guys were trainees and she kissed her family.

scooting over, you make space for her to rest her head on your shoulder, your arm wrapping around her. “sorry for earlier. i guess i’m just trying to see the positive side to it,” sunny says.

“it’s fine,” you sigh. “i’m just super paranoid.”

“is baekhyun?” she asks.

you shake your head above her. it’s amazing to you that he seems to have no qualms or fears about your relationship becoming public. he’s fine with it being a secret or being news, and it makes you feel like shit, like it looks like you’re afraid of being seen with him. though it’s far from that. “no, and i guess that’s what makes me more stressed out. because he’s too chill about it, and doesn’t seem to be worried.”

“he’s old,” sunny snorts and you chuckle. there’s only four years between you and him, so she’s technically calling you old too, but you don’t say anything. “are you gonna tell him you love him?” she asks after a beat of silence. you still against her and she lifts her head to look at you.

it’s a sensitive subject—you and baekhyun haven’t said it yet. you won’t say it, because you’re afraid it’ll open a dam of bad things starting to happen. like once it’s out in the open, the worst possible thing could happen to your relationship. “maybe. i don’t know. probably not,” you ramble.

sunny gives you a sad look and squeezes you into a hug. she doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but enough passes between the two of you. i’m here for you, she says. i know, you say back.

baekhyuns hands are on your ribs, holding you firmly and pressing you flush against the side of his car as he takes you into a nice, soft kiss. your arms snake around his neck, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at his neck.

his lips move slowly against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth with ease. your chest burns with adoration and want, and him tugging you closer to him only makes you throb. pulling away, his mouth chases yours and you let him kiss you again, this time letting him tilt your head back so you’re practically lying against the car.

it’s risky to be out in the open like this, but the parking garage is secluded and for residents of his apartment only. you would see and hear anybody coming through, but so far you haven’t in the last seven minutes.

you pull away from him again, and stop his advances by gently pressing your fingers to his lips. “baekhyun,” you say softly. he kisses your fingertips and then your cheek.

“yes?” he says, looking into your eyes with an intensity that makes your knees weak, so much so that you rest your weight against the car.

“can we go inside?” you ask, your fingers dancing on his cheek. he nods and kisses your palm before grabbing it and taking you to the elevators. baekhyun wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, kissing your temple for a long time, all the way until the doors open, and then pulling you down the hallway to his apartment.

he helps you out of your coat and hangs it up. “what do you want to eat?” he asks as you step out of your shoes.

“bold of you to assume i’m hungry,” you tease, but you’re always hungry around him, and you are hungry right now. baekhyun rolls his eyes at you and repeats his question. “i don’t know. chicken? ramen? rice? whatever you want.” you say, kissing his lips. he holds you close for a beat before letting you go so he can get something started for the two of you.

you bound to the living room and sprawl out on his large couch, turning the tv onto one of the many shows you two have started watching together. you get comfortable and pull a blanket over you, snuggling into the cushions while he busies himself with the task of making dinner.

baekhyun comes into the living room with two bowls of food a few minutes later. you sit up and thank him as you accept the dish, crossing your legs and resting the bowl in your lap. “what did i miss?” he asks, and you catch him up on the show in between bites.

you two eat in a close and comfortable silence. he’d probably have his arm around you if it wasn’t uncomfortable while you two were eating. the close proximity is enough though, your knees touching and his right arm lightly bumping into your left.

you set your bowl on the table, ready to get up to get a drink but baekhyun gets up quicker than you, already knowing what you want. he goes into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of water. it feels like the world is slipping beneath your feet, and you could cry because of him.

this is the taking care of that heejin said you needed. you finally have it—he’s always like this with you, feeding you, making sure you’re well rested and fed and just okay. he takes whatever worries you have and throws them on his back and just lets you be.

after dinner, you and baekhyun retreat to his bedroom. you lie on his bare chest, a hand resting on his stomach and your ear against his heart. baekhyun mindlessy plays with your hair, his fingers digging into your scalp soothingly. your eyes can’t help but flutter close—there’s no point in trying to fight sleep. you’ll wake up with him tomorrow.

the speculations didn’t start the next day. no, everybody thought it was so cute and funny that sunny blurts out random things while her older members are talking. there were compilations made from your groups content; interviews, your group vlogs, and more. it was funny, honestly, that they adored her disruptiveness.

the speculations started four days later. and when the news broke, the internet nearly stopped working because there were pictures and videos. so many pictures and videos, that it felt like somebody may have been stalking you. there were pictures of you and baekhyun kissing against his car, of you two in his car, of you two getting out of his car, of you two going for a late night walk near the han river.

and then there were videos—albeit, mostly can made—that served as proof that you two really are dating. there’s the longing looks shared at award shows, zoomed in videos of you two standing next to each other on stages, hands brushing. the other videos are just more reasons to believe that you two are dating; heejin saying you need to be taken care of, and then clips of baekhyun taking care of his own members. videos of you talking about your ideal type, and clips proving that you must have been referring to baekhyun, or jaír got really lucky that you found him.

it’s overwhelming.

when the pictures surfaced, you and mingwa were in the practice room dancing to your debut songs. the alert popped up on your phones at the same time, but mingwa grabbed hers first. you heard her gasp and ran over, thinking she might’ve twisted her ankle, but instead were met with her guilty eyes and her perfectly fine ankle.

you didn’t know what to do when you saw the photos. your heart stopped and your felt sick. your head started pounding, and it felt like a rug was being pulled from underneath your feet. you didn’t know what to do, so you started crying, falling to the floor in a heap. you weren’t sobbing, but your were audibly crying, and mingwa wasn’t sure what to do. you managed to get yourself together, and excused yourself to your room, avoiding any staff members on your way.

and now you’re on the phone with baekhyun, trying not to burst into tears as he keeps telling you everything will be ok. “baekhyun, this was such a bad idea!” you cry, pressing your forehead into your hand.

“what was? dating me?” he asks, slight offense in his voice.

“yes!” you shout, but you don’t even believe yourself. “w-we shouldn’t have gotten involved.” you’re adding fuel to the fire, hoping he’ll just break up with you so you can say those photos aren’t real, and that you’re not longer dating so everybody can leave you alone.

“you don’t mean that,” baekhyun says, his voice soft on the other line. it makes you feel like shit. “do you?”

you shake your head, though he can’t see you. “no,” you say meekly. “but we- y/n, you knew this could happen even before we started dating.” he interrupts, shutting you up. you press your mouth into a thin line. “don’t try to push me away now, y/n.” the overuse of your first name makes you feel like you’re being scolded by an elder.

“okay, i’m sorry,” you say, sighing. baekhyun parrots you and you press your body into your mattress. now would be the ideal time to tell him you love him, but it feels like it would be a poor bandaid to apologizing for saying that you should have never agreed to date him. “i don’t know what to do.” you mumble.

“let our companies handle it. you just get some sleep,” he says. you chew on your bottom lip, wishing that he was here with you.

“okay. goodnight, baekhyun,” you say. i love you, you want to add.

“goodnight, y/n.”

when you wake the next morning, your group, managers, and baekhyuns team are all in the dorm lounge. you freeze when you see him, ready to jump out of the nearest window because you know exactly what is about to happen. “we need to release a statement,” your manager says, beckoning you over to everybody.

gingerly, you walk over to your girls, sitting next to heejin at the end of the sofa, the furthest you can get away from your boyfriend. “so, i assume it’s true? the rumors about you dating? you can say no, but i’ve seen the pictures,” baekhyuns manager says, looking over at you. you nod, and when everyone keeps staring at you, you pipe up and say “yes”, your voice hoarse.

“great. how long has it been?”

“seven months,” baekhyun says, his eyes flicking to you. heejin gasps beside you, grabbing everybody’s attention.

“oh, sorry!” she says, waving everybody off. “liar!” she whispers. you told her that it’s only been four months.

both of your guys’ managers read from what looks like a checklist of things, asking you questions and scribbling down answers so they can formulate each of your statements.

“are you happy?” your manager asks, not looking up from the sheet. it’s an easy questions, and you both answer ‘yes’ with ease. “are you in love?” the question lodges your heart in your throat, and the room gets eerily silent, so silent that you could hear a pin drop in the next room.

you don’t know what to say. you don’t want to lie, and look terrible, but you don’t want to tell the truth and further complicate your relationship.

you glance over at bakehyun, and find him already looking at you. you know what you’re going to say the moment your eyes meet, and you feel your stomach flip on it’s side. your heart melts like goo in your chest as you say, “yes”, admitting after many long months the one thing that’s been clawing at you in the back of your mind.

your manager scribbles down your answer and turns to baekhyun. “baekhyun?” he asks. his eyes never leave yours, and it feels like you’re the only two people in the room, despite the fact that there’s about 10 feet of distance between you two.

“of course,” he says it so sincerely that you drop your gaze to your lap, your face turning red and a smile overtaking your lips. your group members giggle and elbow you in your side, equally as happy to hear the news.

you feel over the moon, and your past paranoia is put away and shoved into a box that you choose to ignore for a moment. both of your teams curate statements, and they’re sent out less than an hour later. you and baekhyun take the rest of the day for yourselves, driving out far to the beach and hanging there all day until it gets dark, and your teeth start clattering because of the weather. and when you get in the car, he kisses you and you quite literally feel the love has for you, and your brain goes fuzzy to the point where all you can remember is his name, everything else being put to shame.

the responses you get to your relationship are much more positive than you expect, and of course there are negative comments, but not nearly as many as there are of the positive comments. people cnat help but gush at how you found your person, and are finally getting to get taken care of.

but, of course, cameras are on you more heavily than in the past. and now, when you go on variety shows solo, they want to know about your personal life before knowing about the group. you learn to get used to it, giving way to basically nothing, and sometimes sharing more than people expect, when you want to.

like, when you go on a variety show alone with a bunch of other idols, the same show baekhyun had been on in the past, they bring up an interview moment where baekhyun says that you’re the better dresser of the two of you. you’re asked the same question, and you answer baekhyun, and follow up with admitting that you’re wearing his clothes at that very moment. that makes the internet go crazy, searching high and low for pictures of baekhyun wearing the same item, comparing how it’s massive on you but fits him snugly.

or, when you attend the end of the year award shows and exo performs, the camera is on your group more often than you’d like to admit. there are fancams dedicated to your reaction of his groups performances, everybody focused on how you react to baekhyun specifically. of course, the same thing happens to him with you, and he’s a lot more shameless about his support of you.

you group responds well to your now public relationship. you’re able to get all five of you together more often, and they look at him like a bigger brother. sunny often tags along on your dates and asks about baekhyun and genuinely treats him like her uncle. she makes a lot of jokes about the two of you, mainly on camera. like, when you’re filming content for you groups vlog, she asks how baekhyun asked you out, and then sings the bridge of ‘blooming days’ by CBX, and does the dance too. the internet eats that up, constantly sharing the clip because it truly was funny.

despite the public news of your relationship, though, you and baekhyun manage to keep it private. besides what you choose to share, you can easily dodge questions about your private lives and keep the mystery alive. it does help your relationship now that more people know—there’s no threat of getting caught, or the constant feeling of breaking the rules. it’s easier now, and better than ever.

#exo imagines #exo scenarios #exo x reader #exo x you #baekhyun fic #baekhyun x you #baekhyun oneshot #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun angst #exo fluff

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that-bwitch · 1 month

Text

yellow hearts

summary: the times you put yellow hearts around his name, and the times he put them around yours.

pairing: sirius black x reader

warning: sappy fluff

wc: 1.6k

a/n: yellow hearts by ant saunders. a cute little thing I made upon hearing this song after many many years. finally able to write something short!

“Girl, what is this?!”

You whine, slamming your diary shut. Your cheeks suddenly feel hot and you try your hardest to avoid Lily’s prying gaze. She tries to look over your shoulder again, letting out a disappointed groan at the sight of a shiny cover.

“Just… Zip it,” you sigh, still flustered and really embarrassed. “You didn’t see anything!”

“No, no, I definitely just saw it!” Lily shouts and you have to hush her, noticing a few people at the table giving you weird glances. “Was it “Sirius” with hearts around?” she asks, her voice a bit calmer but still conveying the same emotions.

“No…”

You stutter, giving yourself completely and irrevocably away. Your eyes make an automatic roll and you scoot over to make space for your friend. Lily plops down next to you, her eager hands already reaching for your little navy-blue diary. Before you have time to hide it, she snatches the book from you and starts flicking through the pages, ignoring whatever is written on them. Finally, she finds the right page and bends the spine of the diary to have a better look.

Here it is, in all its glory. A “Sirius” with shiny yellow hearts drawn all around.

“Eww!!!”

Lily wrinkles her whole face, looking at you and then at your scribbles again.

“Don’t tell me it’s that prat Black from our year! Is it?!”

You sigh, taking the diary from her and putting it safely in your bag.

“Who else has the name, Lily? Think.”

You stare down at your breakfast, hoping that as long as you don’t look at your friend, she will miraculously forget about your existence.

“But he hangs out with Potter and they’re a bunch of tossers!” Lily’s voice is loud again, earning you a few more concerned looks.

You sigh again, biting on a slice of bacon.

“Maybe,” you mumble with your mouth full.

Lily rolls her eyes. Her plate remains untouched as she turns to you, fully intending to push for more information.

“And since when?” she demands, raising her eyebrow. You start to feel like a criminal being questioned in court.

“Last year,” you answer reluctantly, knowing that she won’t let you be if you don’t pour your whole heart out right here and now.

Lily scoffs, shaking her head in disbelief.

“This is so messed up! What’re you gonna do?”

You don’t reply. You don’t know yet. You don’t plan to ever know. But you don’t stop your sappy scribbles – you just make sure Lily never sees them again.

The second time someone sees the yellow hearts is much, much worse.

It’s your fifth year. You lost the diary a couple of days ago and you go absolutely mental trying to remember all the places you could have left it at. Your heartbeat briefly stops every time you think of a possibility of someone finding it, reading it and knowing it all.

“Oi, come on! It’s not like fancying Black is just a you thing!”

Lily tries to calm you down as best as she can. She has been lightly teasing you about your crush on Sirius for the previous two years, but she sees your worry and, being a good friend she is, hugs you and helps you on a secret mission to search every single classroom for any signs of the diary. Unfortunately, no luck.

“Lily, shut up! I have a wand and I’m not afraid to use it.”

You nibble on your nails for the hundredth time today – a nasty habit you have developed ever since losing the only way to let out your growing feelings towards a certain someone.

“What? The whole school is mad about him and his pack of tossers! No one’d blink an eye.”

“But what if he finds it?!”

“He finds what?”

You freeze at the sound of a voice, and not just a voice, his voice. A young fellow appears from behind the bench you’re sitting on, followed by three other guys, all snickering and whispering something to each other.

“Hello there, ladies,” Sirius murmurs, making a funny little bow.

“Black, shut it!” Lily immediately retorts, noticing your hopeless gaze. “Keep walking, and you might just live.”

“Well, I would, but I may have something you’re looking for.”

No. No, no, no, no.

A small navy-blue book appears in his hand and you suddenly feel like the bottom of the lake wouldn’t be such a horrible spot to be in. Lily’s eyes are wide and you think that if she had an ability to cast spells with just her eyes, she would use it right at this moment.

“Where the hell-” she starts, but you cut her off, not willing to prolong the already tense and miserable moment.

“Sirius, please, give it back.”

Your voice trembles treacherously and you mentally curse yourself for such a poor attempt at hiding your emotions. A thought of trading your face for a brick wall doesn’t seem that unappealing.

To your surprise, Sirius hands you the book without any of his usual shenanigans that you would normally expect. Your fingers brush his as you snatch the diary from him and you hold in a gasp; you would not mind becoming a delicious meal for the mermaids to munch on.

Sirius turns on his heels to leave, but then stops abruptly, as if he forgot something. A moment later, he’s at your ear, his breath warming up your already flaming hot cheek.

“I like yellow,” he whispers as his lips graze against your stray baby hairs; they suddenly feel like а bouquet of exposed nerves.

He leaves, shameless about the fact that his actions made your heart perform acrobatics within the bounds of your ribcage.

“What did he say?!” Lily repeats over and over, but you can barely hear her voice. You flip through the pages erratically and the right one catches your eye at last. A glaring “Sirius” with yellow hearts around it. You notice another name at the bottom of the page. A name of your own, staring right at you. And around it, the same yellow hearts.

The third time someone sees the yellow hearts you aren’t anxious anymore.

It’s your seventh year. Exams are approaching, but seeing as your boyfriend is Sirius Black, it’s hard to get any actual studying done. You have been dating for quite a while now, but it still feels… new.

You’re in Transfiguration together. He sits several rows behind you – a rule McGonagall made just a week prior, “For your own good”, as she said, because together you weren’t making much progress. But he still finds ways to remind you of his presence – he makes paper birds, charming them to fly right to you. Sometimes they’re just pretty birds, sometimes they’re notes with some silly poem he wrote for you, just to make you laugh and earn a warning from Minerva – for both of you, because the source of your distraction is really obvious.

Another bird lands on the desk in front of you. You quickly glance at McGonagall and, much to your contentment, notice that she’s preoccupied with her textbook.

“Hey,” you hear a whisper from behind. Of course, you recognize Sirius. He grins at you and gestures to unfold the origami. Even before you can do it, you see a sheer golden glow emanating from within. Your smile grows wider as you open the poor bird and see the letters scribbled down on a piece of parchment.

Your name. And yellow hearts around it.

McGonagall clears her throat somewhere above you. Her menacing glare tries to burn a hole in your head, but you don’t really care. You give her a sorry nonetheless.

“Shall I teach special classes, so that you attend in the morning and Mr. Black – in the evening?” the professor demands, but you see glimmers of amusement in her eyes. She briefly glances at the note she took from you and gives you and Sirius one of her raised-eyebrow looks, but you see the corners of her mouth lift up ever so slightly. You hear Sirius chuckle, close your eyes and smile. You don’t need anyone else.

The fourth time yellow hearts frame not one name, but two.

You and Sirius have just returned from your honeymoon. You have a whole stack of polaroids from your trip and you want to pick just one to put on the fridge in your shared home. The job proves to be rather difficult. You almost have a fight, which is so stupid and insignificant, but so you.

“Babe, this one is obviously superior! You see how stunning I am in this jacket?!”

“Yeah, and I’m blinking like an idiot because the sun is right up in my face. Sirius, babe, not everything has to be about you.”

You finally choose the one. It’s the last polaroid in your stack and you just can’t take your eyes off of it. In the picture, you’re waving at the camera and laughing, with an ice cream cone in your hand. Sirius pulls you in for a kiss and when he leans away, his nose is adorned with a spot of white ice cream.

You can’t help giggling, show the polaroid to Sirius and he does the same.

“This is it,” you say simultaneously and cackle at your apparently developed skill in Legilimency.

“Just a moment.”

Sirius stops you from taking the picture, takes out a sharpie and writes something on a white area at the bottom of it. He takes out his wand, silently waves it in front of the picture and only then goes up to the fridge and puts it up with many others. He steps back to have a better look at his creation.

You’re flustered, but a joyful smile doesn’t leave your lips. Sirius understands and places a gentle kiss on your temple. You look at the words written on the polaroid once more.

A “Sirius” and then your name below it. Around it, shiny yellow hearts shimmering in the sun and casting an array of rainbow specks all over the kitchen.

my masterlist

#sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #the marauders #the marauders era #the marauders imagine #the marauders fanfiction

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hihhasotherfixations · 22 days

Text

Theme Park - Price x Reader

CW: none, no gender mentioned for the reader so anyone can read ^^

This is pure fluff and just Price being the dad I know he is

While you’re out at a theme park for a day, a little girl approaches you, saying she’s lost her dad.

Not wanting to leave her alone, you decide to help her reunite with him

Word Count: 5542

Standing by the little food stand, you were eagerly looking at the delicious - yet overpriced - food in your hand.

All around, people walked, shouted, laughed and ran. You were at the amusement park and by god was it busy. Or at least too busy for your liking.

Just earlier, you’d stood in line for a water ride for 30 minutes, only to be constantly bumped into and crowded forward by a group of teens too rowdy for their own good. After the fourth time and the fact that you were only halfway in the waiting line to a ride you didn’t even want to really go on in this chilly weather, you just gave up.

So now here you stood, buying overpriced but deliciously warm food from a vendor.

Thanking the saleswoman, you gave her a little smile and nod as you took your precious new treasure, intending to move to a secluded place where you could eat it in peace while people-watching.

Or at least, that was the plan for twenty whole seconds. For all of a sudden, something slammed into your lower back, curling around your waist with lightning speed.

Letting out a terrified yelp, it felt as if you jumped a meter into the air while people abruptly turned to glance at you, only to quickly calm and move on.

Snapping your head down, you saw a pair of tiny limbs wrapped around your waist, holding onto your stomach.

Wide eyed, you glanced behind yourself, being met face to face with a doe-eyed, pigtailed, brunette girl, staring right up at you.

“H-Hi there.” You said in surprise, lowering your arms from where you’d still been holding them up after the scare. When she didn’t seem to move or realise she must’ve had the wrong person - simply looking up at you with teary eyes while continuing to hold strong - you softened your eyes a little. “Can I help you, darling?”

“I’ve lost daddy.”

Just three simple words and you immediately calmed completely — her voice was soft and a little broken from her trying so clearly not to cry.

Using your free hand to lift one of hers away from your stomach, you carefully turned around in her hold to face the girl.

With a small smile, you crouched down, sitting on one knee so that you could look at her. “You lost your dad?” You asked and she nodded while pulling her hands back to her sides as she sniffled, making you hum a little. “You need me to help you find him?”

Immediately, she nodded again, tugging at the adorable bear scarf around her neck with a sad, pouty lip.

Seeing that, your smile turned fond as you shifted a little to get more comfortable. “What’s your name, darling?”

“Sophie.” She mumbled, eyeing the food in your right hand.

Seeing that, you chuckled softly, reaching and breaking off a little piece, holding it out to her. “You hungry?”

Tentatively, she nodded, looking up at you almost as if to ask for permission despite you literally holding the food out to her.

So she was polite, good to know.

“Go ahead.” You encouraged and she carefully took it, immediately starting to eat as if she hadn’t for three days, making you frown a bit.

“Thank you.” She mumbled with a shaky voice and a full mouth and you smiled at her before looking around, your smile dropping as you instead scanned the large throng of people, looking for any man seeming even slightly worried. Despite your thorough scan though, you didn’t see anyone who seemed to be looking for their child, nor did you hear anyone call the little girl’s name.

Looking back down at her, you saw she was still shaken up and took a deep breath, putting on a big smile. “Take a big breath for me, okay? Do like me.” You spoke, taking in a few loud and steady breaths, which she followed immediately.

“Daddy does that too when I’m upset.” She mumbled and you smiled, pointing at her.

“Your dad sounds like a wise man then.”

At even the mention of her dad, Sophie seemed to perk up as she vehemently nodded, wiping her nose as she sniffled. “He’s real smart.”

“Is he?” You asked, getting a little idea as you then tilted your head before tapping your finger to your chin. “Okay, well if he’s smart then does he knooww… two plus seven?” You asked and Sophie nodded. “Oh, okay, okay.” You spoke animatedly before exaggerating a thinking face again. “Does he know… where the moon goes at night?”

“Yeah!” Sophie nodded, forgetting about the food in her hand, completely believing in her father’s abilities.

Hearing that, you nodded and squinted your eyes at the brunette, making a long ‘hmm’ sound before waggling your finger. “Does he know- rocket science?”

“He can build two rockets!” Sophie boasted and you let out a pretending gasp.

“Oh well it sounds like your dad knows everything!”

“He does!” Sophie smiled, seeming to have forgotten her anxiety from earlier and you grinned back, successful in your efforts.

“Well, then let’s go find him! You and me. It’ll be a little adventure and at the end, we can ask him a question.”

“We can ask him why cotton candy is pink!” She spoke and you slapped your knee.

“That’s a perfect question.” You nodded sagely before calming a bit with a relaxed smile, looking at the girl. “Sophie.” You hummed. “What does your daddy look like? So that we can find him quicker to ask the question.”

“He’s big.” She immediately said. “And he has a hat like yours!”

At that, you looked up, bringing your hand to your head to touch the black beanie currently keeping your skull warm. That was good to know, that did actually narrow it down a small bit. “Anything else?” You asked, hoping for maybe a shirt or other distinct piece of clothing.

Sophie thought for a second before perking up. “Oh! And he has a mustache, like this!” She spoke excitedly before putting both her pointer fingers under her nose before dragging them out and straight down to her chin, only to then pull the small digits back to her ears.

“That’s your dad’s mustache?” You asked, a little skeptical. It felt almost cartoonish in how she described it; like a supervillain from an animated movie who would twirl their mustache any time he did something sinister. It was also however, the only information you had to go off of. And given it was a very unique description, you certainly hoped it’d be true, for that would be a lot easier to spot than ‘a large man with a beanie’ - which described about three people in the vicinity already.

“Alright. So your dad is big, has a… mustache and a beanie?” You asked and Sophie nodded.

“Brown mustache!”

“Brown mustache.” You corrected. Looking around a second later, you saw a large group of people approaching and realised you were very much in the middle of the road and cleared your throat. “Why don’t we go stand to the side for a bit and you can tell me some more?” You suggested, getting to your feet and Sophie just hummed, reaching up for your hand, which you gently took.

Taking her to the side, you sat down against the barred fence, feeling a twig or two poke into you from the hedge behind it, though you ignored it in favour of being shocked when Sophie just clambered onto your lap.

“Oh, okay.” You chuckled, setting your bag down to the side of you while you instinctively put out your left arm for her to lean her back against, sitting sideways on your lap so that she could look up at you. “So. Your dad.” You hummed. “Where did you see him last?”

“By the pirate ship.”

Frowning, you reached into your bag, taking a map of the park out. Though you’d been here enough to know the general layout of things, it was more that your feet automatically knew where to take you than you actually knowing where things were. Especially relative to each other.

“Okay, let’s see. Can you hold this bit?” You held out the top left corner of the map to her, to which she instantly took it, seeming happy to help while you stretched the map out (never mentioning that your hand around her waist was holding the bottom left of the map). “So, we’re here.” You hummed, pointing at the lefthand side of the map. “And the pirate ship is here.” You pointed near the top, just right of the middle seam where the map folded.

“Is that far?” Sophie asked, her eyes scanning back and forth over the map.

Worrying at your lip, you looked between the two places as well. “It’s not super far. About fifteen minutes.” You spoke, hoping to not alarm the girl. After all, it was way further than anything any parent would be comfortable with in a park like this.

“Oh, okay.” Sophie hummed.

Seeing her frown, you quickly bounced your leg a bit, getting her attention. “How long have you been walking?”

“I dunno…”

“You don’t know? Did it feel long?”

At your question, the brunette shrugged and you took in a silent breath, trying to figure out what to do.

“How did you and your dad even get separated?” You instead decided to ask, to which the little girl froze a bit, her little head bowing down as she awkwardly played with her fingers.

“I was following ducks…” She guiltily admitted, looking down at her lap. “Daddy was busy and then I saw them. I… I’m sorry.” Her voice shifted in pitch near the end as tears filled her eyes and you panicked, quickly rubbing her back.

“No, hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. Like I said: we’ll find your dad together, okay?” You smiled reassuringly. “So you were following ducks and what was daddy doing?” You ask softly.

“He was buying food…” She mumbled and you chuckled, to which Sophie looked up, a little curious and hopeful.

“That’s why you’re hungry, huh?” You smiled at her, shaking your head. “Cause you never got that food.”

“Yeah.” She hummed and you just smiled and offered her the rest of your meal.

“How about you eat this and then we’ll go look for your dad once you’re done.”

At that, she nodded in agreement and you smiled.

While she took the stick between her hands and started eating, you looked at the map, glancing between the distance the little girl walked.

It was fifteen minutes for you, so she probably took longer. Which also meant this poor man had lost his daughter for at least twenty minutes, maybe even half an hour.

There hadn’t been a staff member who walked up to the girl yet so he probably hadn’t gone to one to ask them to look out for his daughter - because however fun this park was, it wasn’t exactly up to date. The speakers planted every other corner played music and pre-recorded announcements. Anything else? That had to fall onto the shoulders of the staff. And good luck spotting a little kid in a crowd.

Figuring the man would probably spread out from the pirate ship, you decided it would be best to head there as well and hope for the best that he was still around somewhere.

Glancing down, you saw Sophie take the last bite, holding up the empty stick to you with almost a proud motion.

“There you go, thank you!” You smiled and took the stick. “Was it good?” At your question, she nodded happily, mouth still full and your smile widened. “That’s good. You feel up for walking a bit?”

At that, Sophie swallowed her food before shaking her head no. “I have to use the potty.” She said, a pout on her face.

“Ah.” You cleared your throat. “Well, we better get that done first then.” With those words, you folded up the map and not-so-carefully stuffed it back into your bag. Sophie got the hint and slid off your lap, standing on her feet as you then got up as well, holding out a hand for her which she quickly took.

“Stick!” Sophie then exclaimed and tugged on your arm as she reached over, grabbing the left over food stick you had momentarily put beside you before. Holding that, she looked around, briefly releasing your hand as she then jogged over to a bin and reached up, getting on her tippy toes to throw it away.

Blinking a bit in surprise at how fast she’d ran away, you quickly noted to hold onto her at all times as you walked over and held your hand back out. “Come on, bathrooms are this way!” You called out and Sophie came bounding back, instantly latching onto your hand again.

With that, the two of you made it over to the bathrooms not far to the right. Walking in, you swallowed nervously, not really feeling like you belonged there with this little girl. “Uh, can you do this alone?” You asked hesitantly but to your relief, the brunet happily hummed.

Leading her into the stall, you waited outside of it by the sinks, letting out a deep sigh, processing all that happened in the last fifteen minutes.

It didn’t take long for Sophie to come out. She opened the door before seeming to remember to flush as she leaned up to push the button, rushing over to you after where she held her hands under the soap dispenser, seemingly waiting for you.

“Ah.” You jolted into action, yanking the handle to deposit the soap into her hand, which she used to wash them, slapping her soapy palms together.

Once done and dried, the two of you started out the walk to the pirate ship.

“Do you think we’ll find daddy quick?” Sophie asked, bouncing beside you and you chuckled a little, thinking for a moment what to answer.

You didn’t want to lie but you also didn’t want to make her anxious about the separation from her father.

So, you decided to take the middle ground: avoid answering the question.

“I don’t know.” You hummed. “But I know this park like the back of my hand, we’ll be fine.”

That seemed to satisfy the brunette as she nodded, settling down a bit in her hyperactivity as she instead just walked beside you.

After that, it was quiet for a minute or two.

Your head was swimming with thoughts, unsure of whether to speak or what about. Yet deep down you knew that silence wouldn’t be smart.

To your side, Sophie was taking small steps, playing with her scarf. Yet the way she held your hand betrayed her growing anxiety over the whole situation.

So, to get her attention, you gently squeezed her fingers. “Sophie, I have a question.” You asked kindly. “You say you lost your dad, but what about your mom? Is she at home?”

Your voice had been gentle as you spoke, but at it, the brunette averted her gaze and looked down, dropping her hand away from her scarf as she sadly shook her head.

Instantly, your heart lurched into your throat as you realised you hit a nerve. “Oh, sorry, Sophie.” You quickly said, trying to send a reassuring smile, though she didn’t see as she was still looking down.

“That’s okay.” She said in response, shrugging. “Daddy said she wasn’t really ready to have me.” The little girl spoke softly, looking down for a moment longer before turning her eyes up to look at you, a content look in them as she smiled. “But it’s okay! Cause I have him!”

At her words, you smiled.

“Yes you do.” You squeezed her hand as you spoke the warm words. “And from what you tell me, it sounds like he really, really loves you.” You exaggerated your words slightly, seeing the girl stick out her chest in pride.

“Not as much as I love him! I win in the love contest!” She boasted, making you chuckle.

“Do you now? Wow. You better be careful or I’m going to eat my hat in jealousy.” You joked and Sophie gasped.

“No, don’t eat it! It’s a special hat!” She pointed at your black beanie.

“And why is that?” You smiled.

“Cause it’s daddy’s hat.”

Chuckling softly, you hummed, intrigued because of the little girl’s near reverence of her dad.

“So, what does your dad do for work?” You asked, curious.

“Daddy is a captain!” Sophie exclaimed in excitement.

“Is he?” You asked, looking down at the little girl currently swinging your hand back and forth. “What kind of boat does he have? Big or small?”

At that, Sophie stopped swinging your hand and giggled, looking up at you as if you just said the sky is neon green. “Not that kind of captain, silly!”

“Oh?” You asked, confused as you looked down at her. “What kind then?” You hummed as you gently tugged her arm so that she’d move to the side and not walk into the pirate barrel bin in front of her.

“He’s a soldier captain!” She smiled, proud of her dad in a way that had your heart melting.

“A soldier captain? So your dad is saving people?” You asked and Sophie vehemently nodded.

“He won’t tell me much but I know he is!”

Smiling gently, you then looked forward again. “That’s very good.”

“And what do you do for work?” She then continued instantly. “And why are you alone? Shouldn’t you be at work? It’s the middle of the day.”

At the barrage of questions, you blinked for a second. “I’ll have you know I’m here because it’s my day off. And I’m alone because I don’t have anyone to go with.” You said, pouting a bit.

“Why not?”

“I just don’t.”

“But you could?”

“Technically.”

“Then why not?”

“Because.”

“Can I have more food?”

Huffing a chuckle, you stopped walking and looked down at the girl. “That hungry?”

Shuffling her food, she nodded, almost holding puppy eyes as she looked at you. “Please.”

“Okay.” You chuckled and looked around, seeing a hot dog stand across the square. “You like hotdogs, Soph-“

“YES!”

Her voice practically exploded from her chest and you flinched back before letting out a startled laugh. “Noted. Let’s go.”

Moving to the hotdog stand, Sophie was practically dragging you there. Her little arm outstretched as she jumped and bounced in excitement, trying to tug you along faster.

When you got there, she practically begged you for a hotdog with everything on it. Repeatedly yanking on your coat while giving puppy eyes - and how could you resist when she looked at you like that.

So now here you stood for the past fifteen minutes. By a tiny round standing table, holding your own hotdog while Sophie was sitting on the single available high seat, directly under a heat lamp installed in the parasol that covered the table.

“Y/N, it’s warm now.” Sophie suddenly whined, her voice soft and mustard smeared on her upper lip.

Huffing in amusement, you leaned in with a tissue, wiping the sauce away before reaching for her zipper. “Come here then. I’ll open your coat until we move on, alright?” You said, opening the zipper and letting some air in for the young girl.

“Thank you.” She said through a mouthful of hotdog.

Chuckling, you pulled back. “Not a problem.” Right as you said that however, you saw a glint around Sophie’s neck, catching your attention. “Sophie, what’s that?”

Her eyes opening a bit from where she had been sluggishly focused on nibbling, she looked down at herself, her chin against her sternum.

“No, around your neck.”

“Oh.” The brunette craned her neck a bit more to see the chain around her neck. “Daddy gave it for when I get lost.”

The shoe didn’t seem to drop for her but for you, you felt like slamming your head into the wooden table you were standing at. “Sophie…” You sighed. “You are lost. Can I see those?” You placed down your hotdog and reached for the little chain, pulling it out from her shirt and seeing two dog tags dangle on it, each spelling the same information.

‘Sophie Price

Telephone number:

+44 7627 374041’

“Sophie, is this your dad’s number?” You questioned and the girl lifted her head, blinking a few times before humming.

“Yeah.” She seemed to almost be discovering it herself, her energy from the past half an hour seemingly having seeped away completely. “Does that mean you can call him?”

Wetting your lips, you forced a smile onto your face and just hummed, pulling your phone out of your pocket. Dialling in the number, you hit call and brought it up to your ear.

Instantly, a deep, baritone voice sounded in your ear.

“You’ve reached John Price. Leave a message after the dial and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

The drawn out beep sounded after and you groaned, shutting off the call. His phone must be off. Or empty, most likely. Cause who would turn off their phone when their kid is missing.

“Is he coming?” Sophie asked from her seat, halfway through her hotdog.

“No. He didn’t pick up.” You said, clearing your throat. At your words, the brunette frowned, a worried look overtaking her features and you softened a little. “It’s okay, we’ll stick to our old plan. We’ll just go to the pirate ship to see if he’s there, okay?”

“Okay...” Sophie mumbled, placing her food down in the little basket and pushing it away. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“That’s okay.” You soothed, eating the last bite of your own hotdog before wiping off your hands. “Come on then, little rascal.”

Holding out your arms, you grabbed her under her armpits, lifting her down towards the ground, yet when you tried to put her down, instead she lifted her legs.

Frowning, you tried again, but she refused to stand, simply sinking through her legs.

“Sophie.” You frowned, trying again. “Sophie, stand up, come on.” You spoke, grunting a bit as you once more tried to get her to stand up. You also didn’t want to just drop her and let her lay down on the dirty ground.

“I’m tired.” She pouted, keeping limp in your arms. “Can you carry me?”

“Sophie.” You sighed but she interjected.

“No… My legs hurt.” She whined.

Letting out a frustrated breath, you lifted the girl with a grunt.

Sitting her on your left arm, she instantly wrapped her arms around your neck, burying herself into it and you just closed your eyes for a second to collect yourself.

Blowing out a breath, you then opened them again and placed your free hand on her back. “Tired?”

At your question, the little girl nodded.

Shifting her onto your hip, you bent down to grab your bag, slinging it over your free shoulder with effort.

Grabbing her leftover hotdog, you started out walking.

“I want daddy.” The little girl mumbled while practically nuzzling into your throat and you glanced down, your eyes softening.

After the distance she walked to get to you, and then the distance you’ve taken her to get back, you can imagine why she’d be tired. Especially if she already had a day of trudging through the park.

“We’ll find him soon, I’m sure.” You reassured, rubbing her back as best you could while carrying a hotdog. You didn’t even know why you were bringing it along, other than the fact that the food here was too expensive to throw.

After that, a silence stretched out while you walked. In the distance, you could finally see the mast of the pirate ship, seeing the actual body every once in a while whenever it swung up.

“Do you like Disney princesses?” Sophie then asked after a little while, pulling her head back from your shoulder to sit a bit more upright while you carried her.

Looking at the girl, you smiled. “I’m guessing that you do?”

She nodded, lifting her foot up to show you her shoe.

Glancing down, you saw several princesses depicted on her pink shoes. Aurora, Tiana, Cinderella, Ariel and more.

Chuckling, you looked at the girl with a kind look. “Do you have a favourite?”

“I like Pocahontas. She’s brave.”

“That she is.”

“But I like Merida too.” She then said, grabbing the end of her bear scarf and showing it to you.

Looking at it, at the bottom you saw the logo for the movie ‘brave’ embroidered. “Oh, I see. Yeah, Merida is really cool.” You hummed before shifting Sophie to your other arm.

Cute or not, she was heavy.

“You wanna walk again, Sophie?” You asked but immediately, she gripped your neck tight and held on with a firm pout.

“No! I like it here.”

Sighing through your nose in amused exasperation, you just bounced her a bit to hold her better and kept walking, continuing to talk about Disney princesses.

After about another ten minutes, you were finally near the pirate ship, hearing the screams of people inside the attraction as it swung up and down.

“What about other Disney movies, like the lion king?” You asked and Sophie put her hand on her chin, humming as she thought.

“I like it. But it has no princess.”

Smiling, you nudged her. “Yes it does. Nala is a princess. She becomes queen later, doesn’t she?”

Suddenly, the girl’s eyes widened as if a million doors had opened. “Really?!”

“Yes really!” You laughed.

“Nala’s a princess!” She yelled and threw up her arms.

“Sophie!” A deep voice suddenly called out and you snapped your head to the right to see a tall man running up, a black beanie perched on his head and a peculiar mustache on his face.

“Daddy!” Sophie yelled happily, immediately holding out grabby hands for him.

Running up, the man scooped her up under her armpits the moment he came within reach, pulling her into his chest and holding her tight, a hand under her bum and the other on the back of her head, keeping her close.

“You scared me to death!” The man exclaimed before huffing, his eyes closed as he just hugged his daughter for several seconds. Sophie didn’t seem to mind as she just happily hugged him back, burying her head in his neck.

Watching the scene, you just smiled softly, a flood of relief crashing through your stomach now that you’d finally found the girl’s father.

A deep sigh made you focus your eyes back to the duo as you watched the man pull back a bit, checking the little girl over - most likely for any injuries - before he pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled her back into the hug, his eyes finally landing on you. “Thank the lord you found her.” He said, genuine elation sounding in his tone of voice despite the stern look he seemed to constantly hold.

At his words however, you just waved it away - literally. “It’s more like she found me. I just helped her wander for long enough to find you.” You smiled.

At your words however, Sophie finally pulled back from her father’s hold, her little hands reaching to hold onto his face to get his attention as she smiled. “Yeah! Y/N helped me!”

“I’m glad for that, but you are very much in trouble, young lady.” His brow furrowed into a stern look as he gazed at his daughter. “You know better than to walk away from me!”

“I’m sorry, daddy.” Sophie mumbled, looking down sadly and the man - John Price, as you recalled from his voicemail - just sighed and pulled her into another hug.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“Okay.” Sophie mumbled.

Hearing that, John nodded at her before looking back at you, his stern look cracking to be more apologetic. “I’m very sorry to have taken up such a chunk of your day.” He spoke, filled with remorse.

“Oh no, it’s not a problem! I live about a 30 minute drive west of here so I come here a lot.” You reassured, waving his concerns away. “I hope your heart is okay.” You then joked, smiling softly.

At your comment, John chuckled shaking his head while he bounced Sophie to hold her better on his arm. “Not really, to be honest. I can handle a lot. Losing my child for two hours? That’s the line.”

Laughing softly, you nodded. “I can get that.”

“Did you see she was alone and pick her up?” He then asked and you shook your head no.

“She kinda just… latched onto me. From behind even, I didn’t even see her.” You chuckled and John frowned, looking at his daughter for an explanation, to which she pointed to the both of you at the same time.

“You have matching hats.”

Almost comically, the both of you looked at each other, noting that indeed you were both wearing a black beanie.

“I- oh boy.” John sighed, realising he had a lot to school his daughter on when it came to strangers. While you? You simply chuckled because the girl adored her father so much, anything that was like him was trustworthy to her.

“Oh, she had half a hotdog and a potato swirl stick by the way.” You mentioned, remembering the half-eaten hotdog in your hand as you held it out to him. “She was hungry.”

Frowning, John took it, briefly remarking the hotdog before placing it to the side and rummaging in his back pocket. “Let me pay you back.”

“No, there’s no need-“

“Food here is bloody expensive and you found my missing daughter. I should pay a lot more than a simple meal price.” He said, not taking no for an answer as he opened his wallet, using his left hand to hold the wallet - with Sophie sitting on his arm - while his right flipped it open and reached in.

“No, really, we had a fun time, it’s fine.”

“Here, take it.” John held out a ten pound note, pressing it into your palm and holding his hand there, making sure you had no other option but to accept it.

Sighing softly, you curled your fingers around the note and he pulled his hand away from yours, smiling kindly. It made his beard shift and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Well, I hope the two of you have a lovely rest of your day. If you haven’t been there yet, I recommend the fairy fountain. It’s attraction is indoors and very pretty.” You spoke, holding your hands in front of yourself.

“Y/N.” Sophie frowned, holding out her arms for you.

Getting the gist, John placed her down on her feet and she walked over while you crouched to be on her level.

Immediately, the brunette hugged you tight. “Thank you for helping me find my daddy.”

Smiling softly, you hugged her back. “Of course, Sophie. Now you listen to your dad and stay with him, okay?”

Pulling back, she nodded before looking back, seeing her father hold out his hand for her.

Rushing over, she grabbed it and John looked at you. “Thank you so much once more.”

“My pleasure. You’ve raised her well.” You complimented, seeing him soften a bit before he took a deep breath in and looked down at his little girl.

“Well, we best get going to a fairy fountain then, eh?”

“Yes!” Sophie cheered and the man chuckled as they started walking.

“Remember, you’re still in trouble when we get home.”

You vaguely heard the girl whine, her voice getting quieter as they walked away. “Okay…” She was silent for a moment before speaking up. “Daddy?” He hummed to let her know she heard, before quietly, you heard her ask. “Why is cotton Candy pink?”

You didn’t hear his answer, but you chuckled to yourself before turning away to start walking back the way you came, happy that you managed to reunite the family.

For now, you just enjoyed the rest of your day before going home once it got too cold for your liking.

About three weeks after that day in the park however, you got a text.

‘Good afternoon. This is John Price from the amusement park, I still had your number saved inside my call history.

I’m sorry to barge in like this and if this is a bit too forward, but Sophie has been pestering me about you non-stop ever since the 13th. You’ve truly made an impression on her and it’s left her barely able to sleep. I honestly don’t know what to do.

I happened to hear you mention you lived not too far from us and I was wondering if maybe you’d be willing to come visit Sophie? Her birthday is in a month and she can’t stop asking me to invite you. I’ll pay any expenses and if you have questions, feel free to ask.

This is not a must. I understand it’s even a little weird so don’t feel obligated to say yes just because it’s her birthday.

Kind regards.’

Part 2 is in the works :3

#john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #john price #price x reader #cod x reader #dad price

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11rosebunny · 25 days

Note

can you do headcannons ab how would be if Umemiya fell in love for Sakura's sister?

(desculpe se algo estiver errado, inglês não é minha primeira língua 🥲)

Hajime Umemiya falling for Sakura’s older sister (DRABBLE)

It was quite the shocker when the people around him found out that he had an older sister. It was funny how you first met your brother's friends.

Not even a week into a High school and Sakura texts you to come to the restaurant called PHOTHOS down at the Main Street. Generally speaking, you've grown accustomed to the different types of behaviours Sakura gives out and so when you read one of his rare texts to meet him outside at night on the first day of school, you're scared shitless.

You jump out of bed and rush to the designated place and swung the door open in heavy breaths, afraid he was beaten up and rushed to the nearest shelter. You zoomed down the street like a complete maniac until you came face to face with the lightly dimmed restaurant before swinging the door open.

There, you saw your younger brother sitting with a group full of people?!

You hadn't realized how crazy you might have looked, too in shock at the scene of Sakura staring back at you with wide eyes. He wasn't expecting you to come here so quick.

Shortly after, the others began to murmur about who you were and asked Sakura since they caught on the fact that you were staring at him alone. The moment he said it, they all went berserk.

"She's my older sister. I told her to come!"

Even the brown-haired worker shouted. Much to your dismay, the sight of three other first years were around him, but something that stuck to your eye was the table right beside theirs, was a pair of two older guys wearing the same uniform as them. Eventually, Sakura reeled you into the place and made you sit in front of him and right in front of you to your left sat an odd looking boy with grey hair? At first you thought it was fake and he maybe dyed it, but looking up close, it was indeed his actual hair.

Your younger brother ended up admitting he called you to come here because he knew he was going to come home late and didn't want you to eat dinner alone.

Afterwards, you briefly chatted with his friends for the first time but at the end of the night when all of you exited out the restaurant, the grey-haired man known as Umemiya called you over. You learned he was the president at his school that was also in charge of looking after the town. Doing so, he asked for your number purely because he wanted to call you if Sakura would end up getting injured at anytime (they explained Sakura was now involved with a fight with Shishitoren tomorrow. You weren't happy with him).

It's weird though, even after the fight, Umemiya continued to chat to you over the phone—it was a bit unusual for the man. Sugishita was the first one to notice with the way he kept getting up from the garden to check his phone every 10-15 minutes. The boy questioned what was happening but never had the balls to ask him.

You didn't mind speaking to him for the first few times, you weren't attending the same school as Sakura and it was nice hearing how your younger brother was doing at school since he refused to tell you (he was too embarrassed at how nice everyone was treating him). Eventually, your conversations end up leading to speaking about yourselves and learning each other's interests. He didn't expect to speak to anyone at all like this, it's even come to a point whenever he sees Sakura, he asks how you're doing.

The boy didn't think much of it since he wasn't aware you were speaking to his representative for his school until one day Umemiya calls you for the first time and asks where Sakura is.

He was sick that day, and so you had to take care of him in the morning. You were a bit hard on him needless to say, but after cooking him up a quick warm dish, giving him medicine, hot towels, and alone time, you now found yourself stuck on what to do. You couldn't get close to him otherwise you would get sick, you told the grey-haired man to which he replied with.

"Do you want to come to the school to help me garden?"

"Really?"

He had told you about his garden through phone and seeing that you didn't have anything to do, you accepted his offer. The two of you were a bit awkward—he's not going to lie. But soon enough, the both of you warmed up together.

That was when Sugishita understood why he had been checking his phone so often during those days.

Afterwards, that was when he started to grow closer to you.

The two of you grew very close in a matter of days, chatting every single day in the morning and before bed. He doesn't find it odd to text and become friendly with the opposite sex. He's had many countless friends that were girls and was known to be a charming man that anybody liked. But still, with that many people on his roster it's hard to keep up with every single one of them. So why now was he keeping such a close eye on you?

The first thing he noticed was he would slightly feel annoyed whenever you replied a little too late. He would never show that he's mad at you for that due to how well he covers it. In the following weeks he finally his the courage to ask if he can pick you up from school and bring you to help tend his garden. The first time you gardened with him, you had a lot of fun and took pictures to send it to Sakura who was back home (he yelled on text saying— 'ARE YOU AT MY SCHOOL ?!') and so you agreed to help him after school.

It all seemed normal to him, texting and calling you every single day, picking you up, running quick errands with you, and holding your stuff. It's hard to process those feelings he gets around you and shakes it off by saying that he just likes you a lot because you're a good person. Yeah—that's the best explanation.

However, whenever you reply late, take a little longer than usual when he picks you up because a boy was talking to you after class about your group project. He senses a faint taste of bitter on his tongue and almost replies in a passive aggressive manner to those types of things.

"I've been waiting out here for a little longer than usual [Name], what were you doing?"

But soon enough when he hangs out with his best friend Hiragi on a Friday afternoon, due to the fact you were busy that day, the spiky-headed boy brings you up in his conversation at the fast food restaurant the sat in eating their burgers.

"Y'know you really seem to like her Ume."

"I just think she's nice is all." He replied back, in a split second Hiragi caught on the way his voice faltered for a second.

"You say that but whenever ya hear her speakin' to a boy that isn't you, ya get all quiet and nonchalant."

He hummed, "Only sometimes..."

"For pete sakes—you like her gosh damnit!"

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreakerxreader #hajime umemiya #hajime umemiya x reader #haruka sakura #haruka sakura x reader

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steddieasitgoes · 1 year

Text

Eddie is a rockstar at the Grammys and Steve is a clueless seat filler who sits next to him.

Walking around campus, Robin stumbles across a flyer encouraging people to apply to be seat fillers for the award season set to begin in Los Angeles. Robin brings it home to Steve and the two jokingly apply. They think nothing of it until three weeks before the Grammy Awards when they are sent a long email full of rules and NDAs for them to sign. At this point Steve tries to back out but Robin won’t let him -- promising that it’ll be fun and if it’s not he can take her to a basketball game of his choosing and she won’t complain once.

Fast-forward to the event and it’s not as glamorous as Robin was expecting. They’re not allowed to talk to any of the celebrities they sit next to and most of the time they’re standing out in the hall waiting for someone to leave their seat.

It’s a whole lot of waiting until 1/3 of the way into the broadcast when the artists start getting antsy and begin to mingle at the lobby bar. Robin gets sent out on seat filler business first and get shuffled around a few times before she winds up in the back of the line of fillers in the hallway. When another seat is vacated, she pushes Steve to the front since he hasn’t seen any of the show yet -- too busy letting others go in front of him because they are all more excited than him.

The coordinator escorts him to a row near the back of the celebrity section and instructs him to sit in the seat next to a gorgeous long-haired men with the most beautiful brown eyes Steve’s ever seen. The man in question smiles and nods his head in acknowledgment before turning back to the conversation he was having with his seat mate.

Several minutes pass and Steve waits for the coordinator to come get him but no one does. During the next commercial break, the gorgeous man turns and starts chatting with him. Steve knows he’s not allowed to talk to the talent, but he doesn’t recognize the guy so he figures he must be another seat filler. The guy’s not dressed in a suit like the rest of the celebrities and he’s all the way in the back of the section so he figures he must not be someone important. They spend the next three commercial breaks mindlessly chatting about the acts and Steve learns this guy is really passionate about music.

If he’s honest, he’s sort of smitten with this dude and he doesn’t even know his name. He tells himself at the next commercial break he’s going to ask what his name is and spends the next several minutes brainstorming how to casually bring it up.

All of it is for not, though, because suddenly the Grammy Award for Best Metal Performance is being announced and there’s a camera next to Steve pointed directly on the beautiful man beside him. The nominees are read and the beautiful man smiles bashfully at the camera when “Chrissy Song” Lyrics by Eddie Munson, performed by Corroded Coffin is announced. And then he’s leaping to his feet when the song wins and Steve watches in stunned silence as the beautiful man (aka Eddie Munson) graciously pats him on the shoulder before scooting past him to accept his Grammy Award.

Steve feels embarrassed and tries to run for the hills -- surely he should have known who this Eddie guy was and yet all of that disappears when Eddie makes some comment about this being the best night of his life -- not just because he won a fucking Grammy but also because his manager is MIA leaving him sitting next to the cutest seat filler of all time.

(Robin shouts at Steve for three whole days when they get back to their apartment and they watch the recorded broadcast. The shouting stops on day four, but starts back up on day five when she receives an email from the coordinator asking for Steve’s contact information.

Eddie calls him half an hour later.)

#steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #platonic stobin #stobin ficlet #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #dani writes

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seiya-starsniper · 22 days

Text

Six Degrees of Separation

Rating: Teen || Chapters: 1/4 || Word Count 1.4k

Summary:

The Dead Boy Detectives run into a familiar pub while out on a case, and Crystal has to contend with an unfortunate event from her past.

Hob Gadling wasn't planning on adopting three teenagers and a full grown woman, but stranger things have happened in his long centuries of life.

Read here on Tumblr, or over on AO3

dedicated to @softest-punk for making me emotional about Hob adopting the kids in DBD 💖

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“In here!” Edwin shouts, gesturing frantically at the entrance to a pub that looks vaguely familiar to Crystal. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have much time to wonder before the banshee chasing them lets out a blood curdling scream. Crystal rushes in with Charles right behind her, pushing the door and slamming it shut behind her. Thankfully the pub seems to be completely empty except for one man.

A man who looked extremely pissed off to see them.

“Oh bloody hell, fuck no, not you, out!” the older man shouts, moving out from behind the bar and looking ready to chase them out by force if necessary. Crystal braces herself, glancing around frantically for some sort of back door that she can bolt to if necessary. She’s pretty sure she can outrun him.

Charles and Edwin however, are a different story.

“Hob, it’s us!” Charles exclaims, throwing up his hands in an attempt to show no harm.

“We’re sorry for bringing a ghost to your door, Mr Gadling,” Edwin adds. “If you’ll just let me borrow one of your books to get rid of this banshee, we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Not you two, her,” the man, Hob (what the hell kind of name was that?) growls, pointing at Crystal accusingly. Edwin and Charles turn to her in shock, and Crystal is about to protest that she has no idea what this man is on about, but then the memory of how she knows Hob Gadling comes flooding back to her.

The pub they’d run into was The New Inn and Crystal had almost burned it down last year because some girl she hated at school had come here for her 18th birthday. With all of Crystal’s friends, sans Crystal. Ex-friends now, since Crystal had tried to burn the place down with the whole party still inside. Hob had, unsurprisingly, pressed charges, and it took a lot of money from her parents to make everything go away.

“I’m sorry!” Crystal yells, just as the banshee screeches and slams its body against the door behind them. It lights up an iridescent blue, a warding against ghosts. Of course Crystal had to go and fuck up the one supernatural relationship she had because she was an idiot asshole last year.

“I know this isn’t a great time, but I’m kind of a different person now?” Crystal says, having no idea how to even begin to explain the weird circumstances of the last month. “I swear what my past self did isn't who I am now,” she adds, also raising her hands to show she means no harm.

“She’s part of the Dead Boy Detectives Agency, mate,” Charles interjects, while Edwin nods furiously in agreement. “Please don’t throw her out!”

The banshee lets out another screech and slams itself against the door, rattling the frame so hard that Crystal’s afraid it might fly off the hinges at any moment. Whatever ward Hob had placed, it wasn’t going to hold out for that much longer.

“What the hell is going on?!” a familiar voice cries out, and then Jenny Green of all people is coming out of what Crystal assumes is the kitchen. She’s also brandishing a butcher knife, because why would any of that change now that she lives across the pond?

“Jenny?!” Charles and Edwin yell.

“Oh fuck,” the older woman curses, glancing back and forth between the three of them and Hob. Crystal really hopes they haven’t just gotten Jenny fired. Finding a job had been tough enough for her when they'd relocated, and she had refused any help financially from Crystal.

“You know them?!” Hob asks, shock clear in his voice.

“It’s a long story,” Jenny grumbles, then screams when the banshee throws itself against the door again. “What the fuck, why did you lead a ghost here? ”

The door rattles and creaks, and the ward around the pub shimmers and vibrates angrily, which seems to finally prompt Hob to action. He straightens his back, rubs a hand over his face, and then takes one, two, three deep breaths before he looks them all over appraisingly.

“Jenny, get the salt from the back,” Hob orders, gesturing her back to the kitchen. “The iron knives should be on the shelf next to them. Edwin, you know where the tomes are,” he adds pointing upwards, likely towards a room on the second floor of the pub. Jenny and Edwin nod quietly before disappearing to their designated posts, leaving Crystal and Charles alone with Hob.

“Right, so since when have the Dead Boys gotten themselves involved with trust fund brats?” Hob asks, still eyeing Crystal warily as if he expects her to pull out a lighter at any moment.

“Since this trust fund brat got possessed by a demon and got her memories stolen,” Crystal answers, wincing when she realizes how harsh that sounds. “Sorry. I just recently got them back and it's been a weird time. I really am sorry though. For like, nearly burning this place to the ground cause I was mad.”

“You did what? ” Charles cries out, his mouth agape. “Please tell me that was all David’s doing.”

Crystal scrunches up her face and then shakes her head. “I wish it was, but no. Just plain old shitty Crystal,” she answers truthfully.

Hob looks between the two of them, then sighs, his expression softening.

“Look, clearly you’ve done some soul searching and I am the last person who should be allowed to hold a grudge against someone who’s done some bad things,” he says, then gestures to Charles. “If the boys vouch for you, then I’m willing to bury the hatchet. All right, Ms Von-Hovercraft?”

“Please just call me Crystal,” Crystal pleads. She really hated being referred to by her surname. It still felt weird and foreign to her, after everything she had gone through. Hob huffs, and this time when he looks at her, there isn’t a shred of contempt in his expression.

“Yeah okay. Crystal,” he says warmly. “You can call me Hob.”

Crystal wants to ask where the hell the name Hob comes from, because she’s pretty sure she remembers his name being Richard , but before she can say anything, Edwin and Jenny come back and Hob turns his full attention to taking care of the banshee that’s trying to get past the wards he has around the entire pub.

“You’re lucky Tuesday’s a slow night,” Hob says, before he starts flipping through the tome. “Jenny, Crystal, make a salt circle by the tables over there,” he adds, pointing to his left. “You’re going to need to lead her there so we can trap her.”

Crystal and Jenny make as large of a circle as they can, pouring generous amounts of salt into the floor. When they’re done, Hob instructs them to the front of the pub, where the door is still rattling and glowing angrily. Edwin and Charles are standing next to Hob, Charles with his cricket bat out, and Edwin and Hob ready to chant the spell within the tome.

“When I count to three, open the door and run like hell into the salt circle,” Hob tells them. “One, two, THREE!”

Crystal throws open the door and both she and Jenny cover their ears as they run towards the salt circle. The banshee’s cries are even louder now that she’s inside the pub, but their plan works. She follows them straight into the circle, then screeches again in anger once she realizes she cannot follow them out. Her long hands try to grab for Jenny’s apron, but Charles materializes right at the circle’s edge to bat her hand away.

Hob and Edwin start chanting some spell in what Crystal assumes is Latin, and the banshee screeches at an even louder volume than before. The salt circle alights a bright gold, and Crystal and Jenny are practically thrown backwards by the force of the magic taking effect.

The banshee lets out one more high pitched scream, and then her dark grey dress suddenly becomes stark white, dark and wet black hair paling slowly to a soft light brown. When the banshee lifts her face, her eyes are no longer sunken and black, but wide and bright green.

She’s beautiful, now that she’s no longer in pain.

The Night Nurse shows up shortly afterwards, collecting the woman and gently reassuring her that she’s going to a better place. She looks at Hob like she’s offended by his very existence, which the man takes in stride and cheerfully waves her off, telling her to say hello to her boss for him.

“Right then,” Hob says after the banshee and the Night Nurse have left. “Now that that’s taken care of, care to explain to me what the bloody hell is the connection with you lot?”

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives fanfic #the sandman #the sandman fanfic #hob gadling #crystal palace #edwin payne #charles rowland #jenny green #will eventually be payneland and dreamling but this part is gen #seiya writes #seiya writes dbda

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hellcat8908 · 4 months

Text

Love Lost 2 Azriel x Reader

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage, hurt, angst, violence

Make sure to read Love Lost first

You patiently wait for Eris in the foyer for him to finish his meeting. You admired the stag tapestry that was hung on the wall. The beautiful colors of autumn on full display as the stag stood stoic in a still forest. Your attention was drawn away from the tapestry as Eris walked in to greet you. "I'm sorry for not giving advanced notice of my arrival." You apologize. "Don't worry about it, you know you're always welcome here. Sorry I wasn't able to greet you sooner." He says.

This was the Eris few people got to see. He had always been gentle and kind to you since you were kids. "Come on, I'll show you to your room so you can get settled." He offered his arm while he picked up your bag. You noticed the subtle changes made since Eris took over as high lord. He opened a door and escorted you inside, "This will be your room, as long as it's to your liking." He says, gauging your reaction. "Eris, it's perfect. Thank you!" You say as you explore the space.

"You have your own private bathroom through that door. And over there is a walk-in closet." He says as he gestures. "Thank you for everything." You say softly. "Anything for you, I just wish it was under better circumstances." He says before giving you a hug. You fall apart in his arms, the touch being too much to bear after being untouched. He continues to hold you, "It's ok, I've got you. That's it. Let it all out." He comforts you.

Eventually, you cry yourself to sleep. Eris gently lays you in bed and tucks you in. He quietly leaves the room. He makes his way back to his office to finish up his work while you sleep. He contemplates reaching out to Rhys to see if he knows you left. He decides against it and leaves the decision to you to tell them of your whereabouts. After finishing various reports, he comes back to check on you.

Meanwhile, the wind grew colder against Azriel's wings as he neared Illyria. His first camp was coming up. He landed heavily in the center of camp, glaring at anyone who looked at him. He met with the one in charge, Garrick, and informed him of the changes Rhys wanted to make. After the two got done arguing, Azriel stepped out to watch some of them training. He watched silently and made a mental note to discuss with Cassian. After a pair had cleared out, Azriel entered the ring, "Anyone want to see how they really measure up?!" He shouts to the crowd.

One of the bigger warriors steps forward to accept the bait. They quickly start circling each other. The Illyrian grows impatient and rushes Azriel. Azriel drops his shoulder and tosses the warrior over him and into the dirt. A couple of warriors that were watching laughed before the warrior got up and struck Azriel in the side. His eyes grew wide as Azriel snapped. He quickly takes the fool to the ground and beats him to a pulp. Finally, the soldier counters after his face is bloodied. He lands a few more strikes on Azriel before being dropped again.

Before the fight can last any longer, Azriel feels two sets of hands on him, pulling him back. "Enough!" Rhys says with authority before releasing him for Cassian to escort away. Rhys turns his attention to the camp and orders them to go back to their duties. Once the attention is off of him and his brothers, he moves to catch up. "You're done! Until further notice, you're relieved of your duties." Rhys tells Azriel. "Fuck you!" Azriel shouts before jerking out of Cassian's grip. "You need to focus on you and fix thing's with y/n." Rhys says calmly. "Don't tell me what I need to do! You're not the one dealing with this! You have no clue what this is like!" Azriel yells at his brother.

"Then tell me, talk to us. Talk to y/n! No one knows what you're going through like her because she's going through it too." Rhys says. "Stop, Rhys. I'm dealing with it the only way I know how to." Azriel says. In an instant, Rhys winnows all three of them to the house of wind. "You're going to stay here until you get your shit together." Rhys says. "If you're going to relieve me of my duties, at least let me stay in my own home!" Azriel demands. "No! The last thing y/n needs right now is you being an ass because you're pissed off at me! You can go home once you've proven you are more level-headed." Rhys says, leaving Cassian and Azriel alone.

"Come on, let's go." Cassian says. Walking towards the training area. "I'm not in the mood to train." Azriel says. "Good, we're not training. We're fighting. You need to let out some of that anger, and I can take it." Cassian says. Azriel follows him and readies himself. After a few moments, the two collide in a fury of punches and jabs. Cassian allows Azriel to land some strikes, wanting to help him purge his anger and emotions. "Come on, Az. You can do better than that, or maybe you can't anymore!" Cassian taunts, "is that really all you've got?!" Azriel hits harder and strikes faster.

His anger reached new heights. "Maybe y/n is better off without you. I mean, if you're just going to abandon her when she needs you most." Cassian continues to poke at Azriel. "Fuck you! You don't know anything about our situation!" Azriel shouts as his breath hitches. "Then tell me, tell me how it is. From where I'm standing things got hard and you checked out!" Cassian yells, shoving his brother.

"It's all my fault! I'm the selfish bastard! I'm the reason she suffered watching me with Elain for as long as she did! I'm the one that breaks her heart every time I walk out the door! And worst of all, I'm the reason we lost the baby!" He says, dropping to his knees. "What do you mean you're the reason you two lost the baby?" Cassian asks as he stands next to Azriel.

Next Part: 3

#acotar #batboys #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #azriel #azriel x reader #acotar angst #eris acotar #eris vanserra #azriel shadowsinger

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obsessedwrhys · 2 months

Text

𝘐'𝘓𝘓 𝘞𝘈𝘐𝘛 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌 𝘐𝘕 𝘈𝘕𝘖𝘛𝘏𝘌𝘙 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ angst, death, cursing, no happy ending, reader is female (shes for the girls 😼💪)!! Tommy is sort of replaced by reader in some scenarios. Did no proof read this again (im lazy)!!

ᯓ★

From as long as you knew, the two of you were inseparable, having knowing each other for almost 6 years. When Marlene needed some smugglers to smuggle Ellie out of the city, you happened to be one of the three and that's how you guys first met. However, on the journey of finding the Fireflies, it seemed to be full of surprises.

Just when you thought it was the end, more just show up to throw you off guard.

Going from Ellie's lame dad jokes to having to look after her when Joel was in no condition to do anything. You barely had the chance to catch your breath. In a way you were like the older sister since you were one year bigger than her. That's why when it was revealed the doctors needed to kill her to create a vaccine, you were game with the idea of massacring the whole hospital.

After escaping from the Fireflies, in a way, it's like you guys were able to build a new life at Jacksons.

As you two grew older, you found yourself developing feelings for her. You hated yourself for letting it happen but at the same you couldn't stop the crush from growing.

The more time you spent with her, the more you start to notice the little details about her.

How she bites her lips when she's shy.

How she'll look away when she receives a compliment.

How she would share her collection of cards with just you.

... and the way her eyes seem to always sparkle when she spots you amongst the crowd.

All these things just made you fall for her harder. But even in this new lifestyle, it still seemed to come with a box of surprises.

You were in your own house, inside the kitchen preparing a cup of coffee for yourself. It was almost the evening but you couldn't deny your needs. Before you could even take a sip, your front door was slammed open and you turned to see who it was. Your cup still in hand.

To your surprise, you came face to face with an angry expresson on Ellie. However there was more to it, she looked upset, betrayed. That was when you heard a voice telling you inside your head that she must have found out about the truth you and Joel agreed to keep from her.

"You fucking knew" She said. A blank expression remained on your face as you took a sip of your coffee, still trying to maintain your image at this time.

"I don't know what you're talking about" You gently place your coffee on the kitchen counter. Your words having her scoff out of disbelief.

"Don't play dumb with me! I'm not a fucking kid anymore!" She took a few steps closer.

You let out a sigh as your eyes trailed off to the window, looking at the outside. Your lack of response just pissing her off even more. Suddenly, she rushed forward and grabbed you by the shirt. Her actions getting your attention instantly.

"Look at me!" She shouted.

"Look at me and tell me!"

"Tell you what? That I killed all those people for you? That I saved you from those doctors? Is that what you want to hear?!" You raised your voice.

It was the first time she ever see you this angry and this was the first time you see her direct her anger at you. She glares at you before letting go of you, shoving you slightly against the kitchen counter which made several of the kitchenware dangle on the rack.

"How could you...?" She said, her expression now full of hurt.

"It doesn't matter anymore. It already happened. Ellie, this is your life now..." You took a step forward but she ended up taking a step back.

"My life could have meant something"

"Your life would have ended that day! Fuck... listen... Ellie... there was no way that vaccine was gonna work anyways. They were just basing it off a bunch theories. You have to understand" You said but it didn't change her mind even in the slightest. Within seconds, the hatred returned back on her face as she looks at you.

"I never wanna see you again" She said and before you could say anything else, she stormed out the house and left you all alone to your thoughts.

You sigh as you ruffle through your hair out of frustration. How could this happen? How did she find out? Did Joel tell her? Fuck... you rest both your hands on the counter top. Your cup of coffee already growing cold.

Just when you thought your life was hell, a bunch of people from somewhere had ambushed you and Joel when you guys were out on patrol.

The blonde girl you had thought was just another survivor being the one smashing his head open with a golf club and you couldn't do anything as you were knocked out. It was Ellie's cries that had awoken you moments later.

Your eyes fluttered open to be met with the sight of Ellie holding Joel close to her chest, tears streaming down her face while her clothes were dirtied with his blood. She was clinging to him like she was hoping being closer to him would bring him back. But it never happened. During his funeral, you couldn't even show up. The guilt was killing you.

You could have stopped it...

Why didn't you stop it?

Restless nights drove you insane. Apart from the checkups from Tommy, you felt like you were truly alone. You hadn't think this feeling would come to haunt you again after moving to Jacksons. Which led to your rational decision to set out on your way of finding the blonde girl behind this. Nothing but a note left on the kitchen table just for anyone who happens to look for you.

It was hard, you didn't only have the infected to deal with but also a cult. You survived and work your way closer to the location marked on your map.

But in the end, all of it didn't matter because when you finally came close to getting your revenge, you blew it, the girl's physique was larger compared to yours so she easily won over the duel and knocked you into the ocean. It was a miracle you made it to shore.

You felt numb.

Your ears ringing.

In a way you felt that you had failed Ellie.

Because you knew you were never gonna be the girl she looks up to anymore.

You will forever be known as the girl that broke her trust.

The girl she hates.

God sometimes it feels like no matter how hard you try it was never enough...

With your back on the sand, you couldn't help but chuckle a bit. It was silly but you always thought that maybe you'd have a chance with her. What a world would that be?

"(Y/N)?"

You look over your head to see Jesse standing there, your perspective upside down as he rushes over to you. Once he was sure you were okay, he started to fill you in with the things that happened after you left.

As it turns out Ellie had also set out for the same exact goal.

After you were gone, she was confronted by Tommy in hopes she knew where you were headed. To his surprise, she had no clue since the last time you guys spoke was the argument in your house.

Despite the fact that part of her journey was for seeking revenge, she was also worried for you. She had to admit. She was scared. After losing Joel, she didn't want to lose you too. However in the end when she had to choose between finding the girl behind the death of Joel and finding you, she had picked the first one.

Luckily, Jesse was able to take you to where Ellie was at. When you rushed in the aquarium, you found her hunched over and vomiting. Close-by there were two dead bodies, one of them being a pregnant woman. Almost like it was an instinct, you quickly moved to where Ellie was. A hand placed on her back and the other her shoulder.

"Hey... Ellie... its me..." You said, your tone gentle. The sight of you somehow made her relax a bit.

"I...I just... oh god... I didn't mean to..." Her eyes constantly glancing over at the body of the pregnant woman as she stutters but you quickly grab her by the side of her face before she could again.

"It doesn't matter... we have to go..." You told her but she was still hyperventilating. With your arm around her, you ended up dragging her away from the place.

Eventually on the way to the theater they were using as hideout, you guys decided to rest for a while and set up a small camp inside an abandoned book store. Jesse took notice that you two needed time alone and volunteered to keep watch somewhere else. There was tension in the air but you tried to ignore it by making sure the fire didn't die.

"You shouldn't have left without me" Ellie blurted out and you chose to put aside the twig to focus on the conversation.

"You said you didn't want to see me again... so I didn't" You said. The sounds of the fire crackling filling up the quiet night.

You were curious at her silence.

Is she thinking right now?

Did you just piss her off even more?

"You're right" She got up and suddenly began walking over to the other side of the room. You didn't say anything but just watch her rest at the corner before looking back at the fire.

Great job, you fucked up again.

The next morning, you guys continued on your way to the theater while also looking for some supplies inside the buildings nearby. You ended up checking on a small convenience store by yourself while Ellie and Jesse tried to get in the huge supermarket. You walked down the aisle and was able to find several snacks still edible. Then you saw a door.

Staffs Only.

That room has to be crawling with supplies. You twist open the doorknob and began exploring inside, checking every lockers to find it rich with medicines and bandages. It's a miracle this place wasn't looted by that cult.

After your bag was filled to the brim, you started to head out but the second you take a step forward, something grabbed you by the foot which made you fall on your face.

You grunt when you felt a sharp pain on your ankle. You looked down and to your horror you found it was an infected grabbing onto you, the bottom half of its body was missing but that didn't matter right now because its grip was already digging deep into your flesh. Quickly, you took out your gun and shot it multiple times in the head until it goes limp.

"Shit..." You sigh as you rest your head on the ground to process the adrenaline, your feet kicking the infected corpse off you.

Sooner or later, you made it to the hideout with the two. You found yourself settled inside a room to rest. Your bag placed against the sofa while you ran your hands across the face. You felt tired. Suddenly when you tried to lift your feet up to lay down, you felt a sharp pain, rolling up your pants you found a bite mark just inches above the bruises.

For a moment, you thought that your heart had stopped beating. Oh shit shit shit shit this can't be real. You can't be infected. Fuck... Your panic was interrupted when there was a knock on the door. You looked up in a panic.

"Hey um... you got a minute?" She asked. It was Ellie.

You were scared and you sure as hell didn't want her to come in so you remained quiet because inside your head, it felt like there was a red alarm sounding off. You've been infected. You could turn in a few hours from now.

"I'm sorry for the other night" She said which had you look at the door, imagining it's her you're looking at.

"I just figured it'd be easier to hate you than to forgive you"

"But after what happened to Joel... I can't let that happen to us too..." You could hear her sigh on the other side.

"It'll take some time for me to forgive you for what you did but... I'm willing to try... we can start over" She said.

Damn it... this moment could have been perfect... this was everything you had hoped for but at the same time, you knew you weren't going to make it out of this room alive. No matter what you do or say, it won't matter.

"I understand if you're still mad at me. I just hope that you'll also try" You quickly looked away while trying to wipe the tears from your face.

"Maybe after this we can try living together? I mean... your house is pretty big so I thought it can be kind of lonely sometimes. We can keep each other company... start a farm maybe..." She said and you could sense she was smiling a bit from her tone.

You felt your chest hurt. Is the infection spreading already? You can feel your teeth loosening like they'll fall off. Your silence had Ellie take the hint you wanted to be alone which had her smile faltered a bit.

"Look... You're still my best friend and I still care about you so I'm sorry for always making you feel like shit. You know I love you right?" She said and you closed your eyes in hopes of stopping the tears from pouring out.

"I love you too" You mouthed the words but you couldn't bring yourself to say it because even if you did, she'll never be able to understand how you truly felt about her.

"Just promise me you won't do anything stupid again. I can't afford to lose you..."

You clear your throat, feeling it go painfully sore. How could you keep a promise like that? Just then you could hear her walk away with the sound of her footsteps growing faint.

The second you were sure you were now left alone, you hurried to your feet to look at yourself in the mirror. You panicked. Why does this have to happen?

Why did it have to be you?

You pull on your hair out of frustration but then you felt several strands of it easily ripped out just from your grip. Your eyes widened as you felt like your heart was beating from your ears.

You were worried about what Ellie would think.

She just lost Joel... now she's gonna lose you...

Fuck fuck fuck...

You sobbed almost pathetically to yourself. Not because you knew your life was over but you knew what you had to do.

It's the only thing you can do right now.

You went over to your bag and took out your gun. Maybe... shooting yourself instead of letting yourself turn could be less painful. You'd do everyone a favour.

You took a deep breath as you slowly start to point it at your head. Fuck you were actually gonna do it now.

Tears welling up in your eyes once again as snot filled your nose. You had so many regrets... so many things you never got to try.

Maybe in another life, an outbreak never happened. Maybe you and Ellie would still meet in that world. You guys could have gone to college together, maybe have coffee dates or staying up late together to have deep conversations like you two always did. You closed your eyes and let out a long shaky breath.

Maybe you guys could have been in love.

BANG

Your body falls on the ground like a sack of rice. All of your senses drowned out by the heavy smell of blood. As your body slowly started to die, you could hear the sound of the door being slammed open. A figure running over to your side to pick you up.

"Oh shit... nononono... wake up! You fucking idiot! Why'd you do that?!" Ellie cried as she hold you in her embrace.

"Fuck! Jesse! Get the med kit!" Ellie shouted but the light in your eyes were slowly dimming.

"No don't you fucking leave me! Not you too! (Y/N)!"

Her voice was now gone. It was quiet and hauntingly in a way it felt comforting. Almost like all of your problems were washed away.

There was no more surprises you had to worry about.

You could rest now.

#WOMP WOMP #sad violin noises #x reader #tlou2 #the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x y/n #angst #the last of us 2 #the last of us angst #ellie williams x reader angst

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