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#that's meaningless because both parties
confinesofmy · 10 months
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yesterday on black friday, after me and my cousin got back from watching saltburn on a whim (which we literally drove to mississippi to see, inherently hilarious as a concept) we were kind of high from the roadtrip, the film, the roadtrip back, and the absurdity of it all, and we noticed our tourist cousins who come here for vacations and holidays had a bonfire going, so we decided to channel our frenetic fucking energy into partying and getting a bit tipsy, got some drinks from home and crashed that shit.
we were an immediate hit, i think simply because we had such a puckish, elated aura about us. jokes were landing, we were both perfectly elevating other people's jokes, generally firing on all cylinders. eventually someone asked what we were up to before this, so we had to admit we had just gotten back from d'iberville, where we'd gone to see a movie. there aren't any movies in <the major city one hour away>? they said, and so we said well not this movie! so they asked about it more and we played coy for as long as we could but
the party wrapped with us scene-by-scene recounting the entire movie to two of our tourist cousins until we finished our rendition and the one we like less left, at which point we pivoted to spirituality and religion and our struggles with morality and MORALE tbh because it's hard to keep your head up sometimes isn't it. then at 3am we called it a night.
i genuinely think we made his holiday weekend. he definitely helped make ours. that was such an insane afternoon and evening.
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vampiricgf · 4 months
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☆ FAVORITE GIRL
ᝰ you think he's just another frat boy with meaningless flirty words for the person he sits next to in a boring class (he's down horrendous)
frat boy satoru x f!reader, college au, somewhat established relationship you guys are classmates, sfw no smut, alcohol consumption, cigarette smoking, just lots of him being an idiot with a massive huge earth shattering crush <3
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"And how's my favorite girl?"
"Worse, thought you'd skip this class again and we'd have some peace." You roll your eyes as you slide the straps of your backpack over the back of your chair.
Satoru Gojo, nuance Sig Ep and unfortunately glued to your side since the first day of statistics for reasons unknown to you. You'd made an effort to avoid members of greek life on campus, not wanting to get involved in party culture or whatever new dramatics were unfolding with its subgroups. That only seemed to encourage him though, casually throwing his arm around you through the duration of lectures and begging in that whining tone of his for you to come by the house.
You never did, you also pointedly ignored most of his text messages and actively regretted ever having to give him your phone number after the one assignment you'd been paired up for. Outside the occasional drunk text where he'd plead for you to show up, which did make you feel both bad for ignoring him and a little high off the attention. Not that you'd ever admit to clicking your phone lock and grinning to yourself in bed on those nights.
"C'mon, I'm the highlight of your day!" He shoots you that signature megawatt smile and you stick out your tongue at him, scooting your chair in the opposite direction and creating a wide gap as you sit down.
You see him frown and for a half second it looks genuine, making a pang of guilt reverberate through you so you scoot back to where you were and he resumes pestering you with some latest escapade in the Eps house as you both wait for the stream of students to peter off and the lecture to begin.
"Hey so, why you been ignoring my texts?" He pulls a pout and god you wish it wasn't actually cute.
"You send me weird combinations of emojis Gojo, what can I say to that?"
"It's Satoru," he quips almost immediately, barely allowing you to finish.
"Alright, Satoru, it's because you send me weirdo shit. Say hi every once in a while and maybe I'll say it back." You shrug, opening your laptop and preparing yourself to block out his incessant whispering for the next hour while you take down notes.
~
"You actually came!"
The sheer volume in the cramped, would-be living room of the house made you wince in tandem with his shout as Satoru threw an arm around you.
"I'm just humoring you so you stop bugging me!" You shout back, accepting a cup of god knows what from his hands and already formulating a plan of when it would be polite to bow out for the night without a barrage of where'd you go texts.
He doesn't answer you, too busy immediately yelling at some other guy over the volume of the music but you don't miss the way his hand slides down your back to settle at the lower curve, just above your ass. It makes you smile a little, despite your own misgivings about the scene you're in.
But quickly it becomes too much, being jostled by a permanently sweaty and horny crowd in such a cramped space, and you find yourself drifting outside to a patio sparsely populated with only a handful of smokers. The alcohol buzzing inside your brain makes you crave one, a thick, acrid stream of smoke spreading like thick flower petals blossoming inside your lungs.
One girl catches your eye and slowly you meander over to where she's perched, away from the rest on a railing that's seen one too many coats of poor paint jobs.
"Could I bum one off you?"
"You got a dollar?"
Lamely you pat your hips, absentmindedly searching for one until she lets out a soft laugh and extends the pack in her hand out to you. Marlboro lights, the gold top of it shimmers faintly in the dim light as you slide one out and accept the lighter she passes you.
"I tell myself lights mean I'm working on quitting. What a load of shit." She huffs out a laugh to herself as you flick the lighter and it gives a few sparky coughs before the flame catches, burning the tip of the cigarette into a solid ember cherry.
"I'm Ieiri," she says cordially as you hand back the deep purple lighter.
You give her your name before taking a deep drag of the cigarette, enjoying the feeling of it settling in your chest.
"They should invent a kind of cigarette that doesn't kill you." You say absentmindedly and she cracks a smile.
"Too bad the "healthy " cigarettes of ye old days had asbestos in them."
That makes you laugh, enjoying the way it flows into the air with the breeze that plays against your skin, like a lover running fingers over it and giving you gooseflesh.
"Wait, you're the girl Satorus got statistics with right? Tuesdays and Thursdays?" She asks between puffs, flicking ash off into the dark.
"Yeah, the very same. I figured I should finally take him up on the offer to come over, I've blown him off so many times." Saying out loud makes you feel a little like an ass, he may get on your nerves but he's never been anything but sweet to you.
"You know he's like, obsessed with you, right?" She says with another laugh and it makes you raise a brow.
"Oh yeah?"
She shakes her head, another drag before continuing. "Oh yeah. Gets too drunk every weekend and cries in the bathroom because you didn't show, has a crisis every day because he doesn't know what to say to you in texts. I've never seen him excited about a math course before this semester either, usually it's any excuse to cut class until a prof bitches at him."
With every word a strange sense of giddiness grows in tandem with the alcohol drenching your brain, and you can't help but think about those devastating blue eyes. The opposite of rose colored glasses but it fits, a shade of comfortable blue that tints the world because of him and suddenly you're gripped by the urgent need to go back inside and find him.
"Hey, thanks for the cigarette but I'm gonna go find him. See you inside?" You crush the butt out with the toe of your shoe, grinding it down and giving Ieiri a wave goodbye as the wall of thumping bass and neon light swallows you back up.
It strikes you as incredible how a house can turn into a labyrinth when filled to the brim with bodies and only offering the occasional flash of strobe or neon lights to guide you in the dark. After when feels like hours and checking nearly every room you come across for Satoru, without luck, you find Ierie once again leaning against a closed door with a particularly bored expression.
"Satoru she wasn't saying she was leaving she said she was coming to find you, dummy. Open the door."
As you sidled up beside her she shot you a conspiratorial glance before pulling you closer so you could hear her over the din.
"Can you tell him you're right here? He's such a whiny drunk." She rolls her eyes but you can tell it's playful, although you get the feeling this has happened more than once.
Hesitantly you put your palm against the door, feeling the distant bass thrumming through the wood. "Hey Satoru? I didn't leave, I'm right out here with Ierie!"
There's silence on the other side, making you frown in concern until the door is suddenly wrenched open and you nearly fall right against him. Despite clearly being drunk his hands come to grasp your upper arms gently to steady you before yanking you inside the hazy dark of what you assume was his bedroom.
"You're welcome!" You hear Shoko yell through the door as he sits down in a huff, still holding onto you, against a well worn futon.
You can't help but giggle at the way he almost curls around you, as if determined to attach to your side like some sort of sucker fish. With a bit of wiggling you manage to pull back, sweeping a few stray strands of hair from those baby blues as you do.
It's in that moment, when your fingertips brush his skin, that everything seems to pause. The noise outside seemingly vanishes, and it's like only the two of you exist in a comfortable bubble of silence. You never really noticed how his eyes looked almost crystalline before, too pretty to exist.
"Who gave you eyes like that?" You murmur, more to yourself but nevertheless he beams down at you.
"So you do like me, huh?"
The way he says it, so boyish, so... happy. You can't help but smile back, a shy thing that barely tugs at the corners of your lips.
"Duh, of course I do."
That makes him frown a bit, brows knitting in thought and somehow it made him look even cuter. No fair.
"Then how come you never showed up before? And you don't text me back?" A little pout forms on his lips as he finishes and you're struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss him.
With a superhuman effort you keep yourself focused on answering him. "You're, well... All this," you gesture broadly with your hands as you pull away slightly. "And I'm just a girl you have stats with. I thought maybe you were just yanking me around, being flirty in class but that's it, you know? I didn't wanna look stupid getting my hopes up."
"A girl I have stats with? You're joking, right? You're everything." He says incredulously, eyes wide as if more shocked than insulted that you could've looked at the situation that way.
Heat rushes beneath your skin at that, you're everything, and you know it's not the alcohol making you lightheaded. In your silence he continues.
"Y'know I'm not just messing around with you, I think about you all the time. Sometimes you're all I think about all day-"
With a surge of confidence you grab him by the front of his shirt, pulling him down and cutting him off with your lips pressed against his. It grips you like a fever, a crushing need to taste him. It's all sloppy teeth and tongues and spit but it feels perfectly serendipitous at the same time, an otherworldly calm that takes hold of your mind as your lips move against one another.
As you open your eyes into his you can't help the grin that now stretches wide across your mouth, giggling as you press kiss after kiss against his lips, his cheeks, his forehead and soon enough he's dissolved into a puddle of giggles and faux pouts in your arms.
"Will you tell me I'm your favorite girl again?"
"I'll tell you that forever."
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nyancrimew · 2 months
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okay i love your posts and work and understand why you hate the US and both parties (reasonably) but can we please stop with like. just the biden slander. like haha biden old and dumb bothers me because it equates 81 year old continuing like 80 years of US foreign policy and 78 year old who openly paraphrases NAZI rhetoric in one of the worlds superpowers. like i fucking hate biden and am vocal about this but equating status quo old guy and fascist old guy is such a false comparison
you (plural, i have multiple of these asks rn) gotta reflect a bit on what you're using your political campaigning energy on if your biggest issue of the day is me making a shitpost. my post i made last night literally just comments directly on the two biden press conferences that day where he first referred to ukrainian president zelensky as "president putin" and then later referred to his vice president kamala harris as "vice president trump".
i am making fun of the CURRENTLY SITTING president of """""the free world""""" who's very clearly not in any position anymore to be doing this job. none of what i said in any way even pits him against trump, but im not making fun of trump because right now he's fucking irrelevant as he's not currently in control of the most powerful country in the world. i sure hope he still won't be after november, but you're not going to win this election by getting mad at some european tumblr user who made an observational joke.
there is so much more i could say about this and especially how meaningless this election really is when it's suddenly taboo to at all criticize the lesser of the two evil, who as a reminder, has been actively aiding the genocide in gaza and has now thrown trans kids under the bus for some minor campaign points. i somehow remember there being this thing about how biden was the compromise candidate but surely we could push him to the left, but hey, what do i know about politics.
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saintobio · 4 months
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sincerely yours. (11)
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↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 
tags/warnings. depression, cheating, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships
notes. 12k wc. we're so close to the finale <3 thanks so much for the continued support and for the patience you guys have with this series :')
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series masterlist -> episode twelve
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For better and worse. 
Weddings are funny things. Despite the strict adherence to ceremonial traditions, they didn’t guarantee a happily ever after. Exchanging vows and the signing of marriage certificates could become meaningless when a couple faces challenges that would drive them apart. Consider the high-profile divorces of Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt, Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck, or Katie Holmes and Tom Cruise. Divorce had become so common that it almost seemed inevitable for many couples, even the ones with the most fairytale-like relationships. No one was safe from the idea of a divorce. So, was having a wedding really that important? Would it really define the quality and longevity of a relationship?
Satoru might have been thinking bitterly about it, given that his own marriage wasn’t exactly a shining success. However, he was also being rational when he said that weddings weren’t necessary to prove your love for each other. Early in his marriage, he certainly wasn’t the best husband, but over time, he learned to genuinely become a good partner to his ex-wife. There was no specific time frame for loving someone. You could be together for weeks, months, or years, yet the depth of love you share might remain unchanged. This constancy can be either a blessing or a curse, depending on how deep your love was from the beginning.
Well… On the topic of marriages, Satoru had no good thing to say. But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t participate in it. Weddings were still considered a special celebration for families and close friends, and He would be selfish not to share in such a beautiful event with his best friends. Besides, wasn’t it always expected that Suguru and Shoko would end up marrying each other? They were lucky—fortunate because their marriage was built on a foundation of genuine love. In contrast, Satoru’s marriage began out of convenience, which ultimately led to all the terrible things that followed.
As the best man, Satoru strode confidently alongside Suguru down the aisle, both adorned in princely tuxedos, drawing the eyes of the guests as they followed their procession. There were teasing remarks, smiles all around, and even a comment from one of the groom’s female cousins about how handsome they both looked. Despite the gentle commotion, Satoru understood why Suguru remained nervous as they reached the end of the aisle. He comfortingly stood by his side, offered a reassuring pat on the back, silently communicating to his best friend that everything would be alright.
“Don’t tell me you’ll back out now,” Satoru jested, whispering in Suguru’s ear as they observed the guests entering in accordance with the processional order.
Suguru, with his once long hair now neatly trimmed and slicked back, cleared his throat in an attempt to appear less anxious. “What if she gets cold feet?” 
Gojou couldn’t help but tease. “Shoko? You really think she’d have cold feet?” he chuckled. “She’d be the one dragging your ass back to this garden if you tried to run away.”
“Fair enough.” 
Just the night before, they had checked into the Hoshinoya Fuji to celebrate Suguru's last night of freedom. While there was drinking involved, one of the groomsmen insisted it wouldn’t be a proper bachelor’s party without some female company. So, inevitably, there were women in the hotel room, one of whom even gave Suguru a lap dance even though he showed no interest whatsoever. It was amusing to Satoru, considering his best friend used to be the biggest casanova, and now he was a committed and loyal man who, not only was terrified out of his wits on his wedding day, but was also afraid that the one woman he loved might run away from him.
Such genuine, pure love. 
As Satoru pondered, his gaze landed on Akemi, who was seated a couple of rows back among the other guests. She had just arrived, her hair tied elegantly in a low ponytail and her silky sage dress accentuating her womanly figure flawlessly. She was wearing the diamond Tiffany & Co. earrings he had gifted her, which made her stand out among the rest of the people in that garden. Their eyes also met at the perfect moment, her gaze sparkling upon seeing Satoru in his tuxedo. He offered her a smile, one that silently conveyed ‘I’ll be there with you later,’ and she immediately understood. 
How fortunate was Satoru to have her? Perhaps the reason for her late appearance was because she had been looking after Sachiro back home, fulfilling the duties that his ex-wife should have been doing. She was truly a mother who stepped up, especially during a time when both he and his son felt most abandoned.
And what about you? Who knew if you would even attend the wedding? You were meant to be Ieiri’s maid-of-honor, yet you were conspicuously absent. Perhaps you were still in Monaco, enjoying your time playing house with Toji, making a wedding like this seem insignificant to you. You would have informed Miwa in advance and picked up Sachiro if you had returned to Tokyo, right? Suguru also hadn’t mentioned anything about your arrival at the accommodation, hinting that someone else would have to step in as Shoko's maid-of-honor.
But who would it be? Shoko’s cousin? One of her other female co-workers? Her high school friend? 
“Look, mom! She’s beautiful~”
Satoru was rendered speechless, utterly captivated by the sight before him. His fingers tingled with anticipation, his heart raced in his chest, his feet felt rooted to the ground, and his eyes remained fixed on the next lady gracefully making her way down the aisle. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what struck him the most: was it the sight of you in a stunning light green dress, resembling an angel descended from the heavens, or was it the haunting reminder of his own wedding day, when you walked down the same aisle as his most beautiful bride?
His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening with each step you took down the aisle. Satoru felt like a statue, frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from you. You had become the sole focus of his attention, the rest of the world fading into a blur around him. He couldn’t comprehend it. Why was it so effortless for him to let his guard down around you?
This woman, he thought. This woman is Sachiro’s mother. This was the same woman that carried his flesh and blood for nine months, now appearing as radiant as a freshly bloomed flower, as if untouched by the stresses of unexpected motherhood. What had transpired in Monaco to transform you into this vision of beauty?
“You’re drooling.” Suguru nudged him on the chest. “This isn’t your wedding. You had your chance.” 
Yes, he was well aware. This wasn’t his wedding, and he needed to maintain composure. Yet, it felt as though he was being drawn inexorably towards the mesmerizing goddess before him. With each beat of his heart quickening, he struggled to remind himself: No, Satoru. She's nothing to you now.
And because he was lost in a trance, he remained oblivious to the bride’s entrance and even Suguru’s emotional reaction to seeing his bride. His attention was solely fixated on you as he stole glances your way whenever he could. It wasn’t until the exchanging of rings, when you two had to stand side by side to assist the bride and groom, that he snapped back to reality. With you so close yet seemingly distant, Satoru felt a pang of disappointment as you never returned his gaze. The whispers and side comments from the guests also added to his discomfort, making him acutely aware of the scrutiny placed upon the best man and maid-of-honor.
“Aren’t they divorced?”
“Yeah, their marriage was a wreck.” 
“They’re bad luck. I hope they don’t pass it onto the couple.”  
For the first time in a long time, Satoru was gripped by an unprecedented desire to retort, to refute the misconceptions surrounding his marriage. Yet, he knew it was futile. Engaging in a verbal sparring match with another guest would only ruin his best friends' special day. Moreover, he might risk causing unintentional hurt to Akemi by defending a marriage that had long ceased to exist. So, despite the internal turmoil, he remained silent, allowing the whispers to persist unchecked.
And, with that, the wedding ceremony ended. Shoko and Suguru were now declared husband and wife. 
— — 
The reception was a time for socializing, enjoying drinks and hors d’oeuvres, and congratulating the newlyweds. For Suguru and Shoko, this part of the celebration felt effortless and their energies were seamlessly complementing each other’s. Unlike arranged marriages, there was no sense of haste or coercion; theirs was a union born of genuine affection. You couldn’t help but feel foolish for ever entertaining the notion that this was merely a conventional wedding experience. Here, before your eyes, unfolded a true celebration of love between two people.
Did Satoru share the same sentiments? You wondered what thoughts raced through his mind during the proceedings. Did the event trigger memories of his own past, or stir feelings of longing for what could have been?
You refused to subject yourself to the torment of dwelling on your past. If anything, your time living alone in Monaco had been a crucial step in your healing journey. While the process was far from complete, that solitary retreat had provided a much-needed respite from the source of your stress. It afforded you the opportunity to contemplate the life you were destined to lead, albeit alone for the foreseeable future.
By allowing Sachiro to spend more time with his father, you not only facilitated the rebuilding of their fractured relationship, but also acclimated your child to your absence. It was a necessary adjustment, one that would prepare him for the reality of your impending solitary existence. At least, Sachiro had a chance to live in a loving household with Satoru and Akemi, instead of a miserable and lonely way of living together with you. 
In the end, it was all for your child. 
As for the potential emotional minefield of attending this wedding, you were there for Shoko, who had always been a steadfast and understanding presence in your life. Her genuine friendship meant more to you than mere familial bonds ever could. Even at the risk of stirring up unhealthy emotions by being in a room full of people who hurt you, you couldn’t bear to disappoint Ieiri. 
Admittedly though, navigating the wedding crowd was a delicate balance of warmth and formality. Ieiri’s side of the family, who were doctors heavily acquainted with your family, greeted you with genuine warmth. While Suguru’s relatives, who were more closely tied to the Gojou family, maintained a polite distance. Although there were occasional moments of discomfort, you knew how to maintain composure throughout. 
As for Toji’s absence, while a part of you wished he could have been there as a supportive presence, you also recognized the value in learning to handle situations involving your ex-husband independently. He had an unavoidable business trip, but that also provided an opportunity for you to stop relying on him and navigate such occasions like these on your own. He was nothing more than a friend now. 
While that ex-husband, Satoru, was here with your best friend. It didn’t surprise you that he had brought Akemi as a plus one. In fact, you had expected it to happen. It just wasn’t the best feeling to be the maid-of-honor when the best man clearly had another lady for it in mind. 
It was quite amusing, too. Not once had Akemi approached you during the reception. You understood that she wanted to keep her distance, but you found it disrespectful that she was ignoring your existence. Was she scared to talk to you? Scared of what you had to say? You had heard over a million hurtful things from other people, yet she was afraid to hear a few pieces of advice from you?  
Forget it. Forget her and Satoru. Focus on the reception, Y/N. 
But really, how could you? As the moment arrived for the newlyweds’ first dance, tradition dictated that the best man and maid-of-honor should also take to the floor. You sensed the tension in the air as Satoru hesitated, surrounded by urging groomsmen, deciding whether or not he should ask you for a dance. He looked like he was battling with what was right and wrong in his mind, yet ultimately he chose to pass by you, extending his hand to Akemi instead.
It wasn’t feelings of shame that slapped you to reality. It was seeing Satoru holding Akemi’s hand, another on her waist, as they slowly danced to Can’t Help Falling In Love, a song that was played on your wedding day. 
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
Oh, for I can’t help
Falling in love with you
It shouldn’t hurt anymore. You were doing better. You were doing so good, you were doing… you were okay. You should be okay. Or did you overestimate your emotions a little too much? Because this, seeing the man you loved with all your heart holding another woman in his arms, was tortuous to your soul. You could feel the pains of your past tugging at your heart, wondering why he never danced like that with you on your wedding day? Why he never stared at you like you were the most beautiful girl in the world, why he never showed you off in a room full of curious people, why he never respected you enough to treat you with such… with such love. 
“Everything okay?”
You didn’t expect Nanami, out of all people, to be offering you a handkerchief. You hadn’t even realized that your eyes were already pooling of the tears if he had not cut you out of trance, offering a comforting and sympathetic smile. You had to blink multiple times just to push your tears back in. 
“Yeah,” you answered with a grateful expression. I’m strong. I’ll be fine. “Thank you.” 
Nanami took that as a sign to offer his hand. “Care for a dance, then?” 
Wiping your eyes, you nodded, smiling at the man. “Why not?” 
After the dance, the reception continued as follows. The cake cutting, the dinner service, then the toasts and speeches. If it wasn’t for Nanami, you wouldn’t have been able to pick yourself back up after the humiliation of seeing Satoru and Akemi dancing together. You just needed a decent amount of air to breathe and gather yourself together again. It was a nice help from someone who wasn’t a personal acquaintance of yours, that despite being Satoru’s right hand man in the company, Nanami still had some kindness in him that you would forever be thankful for. 
And when it was time for you to do your speech as the MOH, you didn’t let a single vulnerable emotion slip out of you. For that short moment, you tried not to think about who was in the audience, about what they thought of you, and about what other preconceived notions they had of you. You focused on the newlyweds as you stood in front of the mic stand, eye-to-eye with Shoko and Suguru, who were holding each other’s hands. 
“Shoko,” you began, smiling genuinely at the couple, “Through the laughter and tears, you’ve been my constant, my confidante, my rock. And today, as I watch you embark on this new chapter of your life, I’m honestly a bit overwhelmed with emotion.” 
The bride returned your smile, and you can tell Shoko was holding back tears of her own as she glanced between you and Satoru. 
You continued your speech, observing Suguru’s supportive gesture towards his wife as you spoke. “Shoko, I recall our late-night conversations, the tears shed over broken marriages, and the pain of shattered relationships. Yet, through it all, you’ve remained steadfast in your belief in love, in hope, in the possibility of a happily ever after.” Turning to Suguru, although he still had that lingering discomfort around you, you offered him nothing but heartfelt words. “As I look at you and Suguru, I’m reminded that true love exists—a love that is patient, kind, and enduring. My wish for you both is a lifetime filled with laughter, joy, and unwavering support for each other. May you cherish each other’s hearts, protect each other’s dreams, and weather life’s storms together, stronger in your love. Suguru, during your challenging days as a married couple, I pray that you always look at Shoko and remember why you love her. I pray that you will always have the capacity to cherish and respect her as your wife and the future mother of your children. May you keep her in your heart, no matter what challenges may come your way.”
As tears welled in Ieiri’s eyes, your voice faltered, the magnitude of your wishes for their marriage weighing heavily on your own unfulfilled desires. You weren’t trying to make this about you, and you hoped they thought that, too. 
“As I raise my glass to toast this beautiful union,” you said, raising the champagne glass on your hand, “I do so with a heart full of love and a silent prayer—that your love story will be one of triumph, of healing, and of endless happiness. Congratulations, Shoko and Suguru!”
— —
Satoru was deeply affected by your speech. Both in good and bad ways. On one hand, he was touched by the sincerity of your words and the genuine wishes you extended to the newlywed couple. On the other hand, he couldn’t shake off the pang of guilt and remorse that accompanied your words, knowing all too well the history behind them. When you expressed your hopes for Suguru to always cherish and respect Shoko, Satoru couldn’t help but reflect on his own behavior during your marriage and the ways in which he may have fallen short.
Each action he did definitely had a lasting impact on you. 
But what about the good ones? Had you forgotten about the times he treated you well? Had you forgotten the lengths he took just to prove to you that he was a changed man? That at one point in his life, he would do everything in him just to show you how much he loved you? 
It was unfair. Why did you only ever look at the bad things he did and never the good ones? Why did you still see him as a villain in your marriage when he knew he had paid his dues after he lost you?
It was truly, honestly unfair, that you get to be happy with Toji, but he ought to feel guilty for being with Akemi. 
“I think they’re about to do the bouquet and garter toss,” spoke Akemi, tugging at Satoru’s arm while they sat on their designated table. She held a napkin on her other hand to wipe her partner’s chin, smiling in excitement. “You should go and join.” 
Where were you? After your speech, Satoru couldn’t seem to find you anymore. Where had you gone off to? Did you leave already? 
“Y-Yeah,” Satoru answered, looking around the venue before turning to Akemi. “What about you? Won’t you join the bouquet toss thing?” 
She shook her head, hesitantly. “Isn’t it only for bridesmaids?” 
He grabbed her hand and urged her up. “No, it’s for all unmarried female guests. Come on.” 
The reason Satoru dragged her along was because Akemi loved weddings, and she especially enjoyed the traditions that came with it. She herself once dreamt about the picture perfect wedding, but never got to fully have her own, so attending such occasions made up for the lack of personally experiencing it. 
Gojou couldn’t exactly remember if he did the garter toss in his own wedding. If so, who had caught it? Who had caught your bouquet? His eyes swept across the entire venue once more, searching for your familiar figure among the guests. He was too occupied to realize that Shoko had already tossed her bouquet, and the frenzy of eager ladies ensued until it landed in Akemi’s hands.
He genuinely felt happy for Akemi. The joy in her eyes upon catching Shoko’s bouquet was unmistakable. Yet, as the playful teasing about a potential wedding for him shifted in his direction, Satoru couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pressure. It wasn’t supposed to weigh on him like this. It was too soon to have that expectation of him. 
“Looks like someone’s getting married next!”
And while he was feeling suffocated from the pressure placed upon him, the receiver of the tossed garter happened to have been Nanami. 
Immediately, the teasing ensued, with the other guests urging Nanami to wear the garter on Akemi’s leg. Out of respect, Nanami looked at Gojou for permission, but honestly? He was just grateful he didn’t have to do all that and be pressured about another wedding that he had not yet thought about. Fuck it, thank God Nanami had caught the garter because Satoru was sure as hell starting to feel uneasy there. 
“Go for it,” was the only thing Satoru said to Nanami, gesturing his chin at Akemi’s direction. 
While everyone was focused on the situation between Nanami and Akemi, Satoru took that opportunity to escape from the crowd and find his peace at the balcony. He hastily made his way out of the reception hall, feeling a sense of relief as he could finally breathe. 
And there you were, standing alone, lost in contemplation, and your gaze fixed upon the tranquil expanse of the lakeside. The chill breeze caressed your hair softly, as if mirroring the calm that enveloped your countenance. In another universe, this would have been an opportune moment to hug you from behind, sharing the warmth of his embrace around your figure. But he was living in a universe where you and him weren’t meant to be together.
In fact, you were probably thinking about another man as you stared at the lake, hoping that he was there with you. 
“Did you have fun in Monaco with Toji?” Satoru was crazy for going straight to the point, and he knew it was a blunt inquiry, bordering on intrusive, but it tumbled out nonetheless, revealing the thoughts that had been plaguing in his mind. His words spilled out before he could rein them in, a question born of curiosity and perhaps a touch of jealousy.
As for you, with your peace in the balcony now ruined, you briefly opened your mouth to respond, but held back against it as you met Gojou’s eyes with a distant stare. You were even quick to look away and sigh, like he was not worth the conversation. You had not spoken a word to him since the wedding ceremony and you were definitely going to keep doing it. 
And man, did that hurt his ego. 
So, for a very stupid reason, he felt the need to hurt yours in return. “Do you know Sachi calls Akemi ‘mama’ in his sleep?” 
Your eyes remained empty. “Good for you, then. You won’t have a hard time getting him accustomed to it.” 
“Y/N.” Satoru’s voice came out as a warning, and he was about to start an argument on why you were abandoning him and Sachi over Toji, but he was interrupted at the appearance of Akemi carrying Shoko’s bouquet as she tried to search for her lover. This meant that the conversation with the ex-wife was over.
But as he glanced between you and Akemi, his bitter past and his sweet present, why did Satoru’s heart still lingered with you when it shouldn’t?
“You should go,” you briefly muttered, walking in the opposite direction, “Your future wife’s looking for you.”
Satoru’s sudden grip on your wrist halted your steps abruptly. His voice carried a bitter edge as he reminded you of the agreement you had made. “Y/N, we agreed to co-parent Sachiro properly. Why are you choosing Toji over your own son?” 
The accusation left a tense atmosphere, eliciting a sharp response from you as you yanked your hand away, a flash of anger igniting in your eyes. “You have no idea what you're talking about, Satoru.”
— —
“Welcome to Hoshinoya Fuji, Ms. L/N!” 
You stepped out of the car, taking in the serene beauty of the lakeside cabin that would be your sanctuary for the next three days and two nights. Nestled among towering pines and sturdy oaks, the cabin exuded a rustic charm that blended seamlessly with the natural landscape. Its weathered wooden exterior, adorned with a green tin roof, seemed to have grown organically from the earth itself.
The cabin sat on a gentle slope that led directly to the water’s edge. A wooden deck wrapped around the front, offering a perfect vantage point for gazing out over the tranquil lake. Your room also had the best view of Mount Fuji, which you thought was the highlight of this luxurious accommodation. 
After the newlywed send-off, you were quickly ushered in by Shoko and Suguru’s staff, who were in charge of attending to the special guests staying a few extra days at the cabin. Though the couple wouldn’t start their proper honeymoon until their 6-month long cruise trip in two weeks, they wanted their guests to enjoy the accommodations they had arranged. You were relieved to hear that, despite Satoru and Akemi also being among the friends staying, each guest had their own private cabin reserved.
The thing was, you could leave any time if you wanted to. Shoko also reassured you that it would be okay and that she would understand if you wanted to go home right away. She knew that the situation may be uncomfortable for you, and that she felt bad you even had to deal with it during the ceremony, but you made a promise to her. You were her maid-of-honor for a reason, and part of your duty was to help with the post-ceremony tasks to ensure that Shoko can focus on enjoying her pre and post-wedding activities. 
So, in some ways, you felt obliged to stay. You didn’t need to interact much with others during your stay, anyway. You were content staying in your room, perhaps taking some occasional walks outside. Satoru could do whatever he wanted with Akemi; you were determined to avoid crossing their paths.
Besides, inside the cabin was a cozy retreat. The main living area featured large windows that framed the picturesque view, allowing moonlight to spill in and illuminate the space. A stone fireplace, complete with a rustic mantel adorned with pinecones and candles, stood as the centerpiece of the room. Plush armchairs and a worn leather sofa invited relaxation, while a handwoven rug added a touch of warmth and color.
As you moved towards the bedroom, you found a comfortable queen-sized bed covered in a soft, plaid quilt. The scent of pine mingled with the faint aroma of fresh linens, creating an atmosphere of peaceful haven. An old-fashioned dresser and a bedside table, topped with a simple lamp, completed the room. The windows here, too, offered a glimpse of the sparkling lake, ensuring that the beauty of nature would greet you each morning.
Stepping outside, you walked down a short path to the water’s edge, where a small wooden dock extended into the lake. A pair of Adirondack chairs sat invitingly at the end of the dock, perfect for soaking in the sunset or stargazing at night. Nearby, a fire pit surrounded by stones and logs as seating promised cozy evenings under the stars, with the gentle sound of lapping water providing a soothing backdrop.
On your first night there, you ended up falling asleep right away. The physical and emotional exhaustion, combined with jetlag, knocked you out. However, the next day promised a few tasks to complete the post-wedding cleanup. 
The second night, however, was a different story.
When you returned to the cabin, the cool evening air was crisp against your skin. The temperature went down a couple of celsius compared to yesterday, so as you walked down the path toward the lakeside, you were drawn to the flickering glow of a fire pit illuminating the area near the water’s edge. Drawing closer, the soft sounds of laughter and conversation reached your ears, mingling with the gentle crackle of burning logs.
The fire pit was surrounded by a group, their faces lit by the warm, golden light of the flames. They sat on a circle of logs and foldable chairs, leaning in to feel the comforting heat. Some held mugs of steaming cocoa, while others toasted marshmallows on long sticks, their tips glowing bright orange before transforming into gooey, sugary treats.
You paused for a moment and took in the scene. Was it a safe space for you to be in? You noticed familiar faces among the group—some of the couple’s old friends from the wedding, now relaxed and enjoying the peaceful night. One of the guests strummed a guitar softly, the melody adding to the cozy, inviting atmosphere. Another guest told a story, their animated expressions and gestures causing bursts of laughter from the listeners.
There was no sight of Satoru and Akemi. Perhaps, it might be okay to join in.
As you approached, Suguru emerged from a nearby cabin, smiling in a way that felt unusual. Why was he being friendly all of a sudden? Last time you checked, he still held a grudge against you. But now, he showed no signs of antagonism, and was even approaching you with his usual friendly demeanor.
“Y/N,” he said, the fog of his breath visible in the cold air, “I never got to thank you properly for helping us with everything here. I didn’t think you’d make it last minute.”
You wrapped your shawl tighter around yourself to ward off the chill. “It’s no trouble. I’m glad to help out and be here for you guys,” you replied warmly. And while glancing around, you noticed the absence of Shoko. “Where’s the missus?”
Suguru’s smile took on a mischievous edge. “Sleeping. She’s still pretty tired and…”
You interrupted him with a laugh, catching onto his suggestive tone. “Alright, you two. You’re wild.”
His grin softened into a sincere expression. “No, seriously. I never got to properly thank you. I never got to apologize to you either.” Suguru looked down with guilt. “I’m sorry for being an asshole to you. I was focusing too much on Satoru’s point-of-view, dismissing how it must be like to be in your position amidst all that mess. Shoko helped me understand why you made certain decisions, why you had no other option. She helped me see things from your perspective, to realize the extent of your suffering. We all knew that, I guess. We all knew you were constantly dealt a bad hand, yet you remain kind and resilient. You continue to show empathy to others, even when the world hasn’t been fair to you.”
In the ensuing silence, your heart seemed to thunder in your chest. His words carried weight far beyond what he might have intended, and you genuinely appreciated his apology. Even if he didn’t need to say them. 
“I guess what I’m trying to say is, you’re a gem, Y/N.” Suguru gave your back a gentle pat. “You deserve to be happy in your own special way. And just like how you wished us well with our marriage, I hope you’ll find your own path to a happy marriage, too.” 
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down with a forlorn smile. 
“We’re here for you, okay?” he offered, “Shoko and I. You can count on us if you need us, if you need help with Sachiro, if you need help with life in general.” 
“I appreciate it, really.” 
And by then, he cleared his throat, opening up a topic that caught you off guard. You didn’t expect it from Suguru out of all people. “Y/N, I know why you were in Monaco.” 
Of course. He’d know it from Shoko. 
“I also know,” he continued, dark narrow eyes staring straight at yours, “why you left Sachiro with his father.” 
You were a deer caught in the headlights. You wouldn’t say it felt invasive to have someone be aware of the reasoning behind your personal decisions, but it was just an altogether different feeling to know that it was your ex-husband’s best friend who knew. 
“Why didn’t you tell him?” he asked, referring to Satoru, “That you broke up with Toji?” 
You took a deep breath. “I don’t see the point of telling him.”
“What if I were to tell you that he’d come running desperately to you the moment he finds out?” he posed another burning question. “You still love him, right? You and him would likely get together without much difficulty if he were aware. So, why hesitate?”
“Because I don’t want that,” you answered, feeling words caught in your throat in a moment of vulnerability. “Because I’m scared to get back with him. Because he has Akemi now. Because I don’t wanna keep ruining the lives of the people around me. We’re better off this way, Suguru. I don’t want to mess up the second time around, and I definitely don’t think Satoru would be able to fully move on with his life with me still in the picture. He seems to be happy with Akemi already.” 
Suguru smiled sadly. “You don’t even wanna get your revenge? Don’t wanna get back at your best friend for dating your ex?” he paused to correct himself, “Well, dating is the wrong term. Satoru insists they’re not exclusive, you know?” 
You shook your head, sighing. Satoru, you haven’t changed. “It doesn’t matter. I’m fine with the way things are.” 
He was on the verge of continuing, poised to persuade further, but the arrival of the very individuals in question brought an abrupt halt to his words. Descending the cabin steps was Shoko, trailed by Satoru, who, in a gesture of warmth, had draped his jacket around Akemi, with his arms encircling her.
All five of you found yourselves in an awkward situation, now faced with two couples, one of which was at the core of your distress. The tension was palpable, and it didn’t help that Satoru’s vivid blue eyes met yours, seemingly trying to decode the conversation between you and Suguru. That was none of his business. He could continue his affectionate display with Akemi, while you had other matters to attend to than be part of an awkward quintet.
“I should go,” you declared, avoiding eye contact with everyone, unwilling to play the fifth wheel. You were hoping to evade Satoru and Akemi’s presence, but both Shoko and Suguru already caught your arm. 
“Y/N, please,” Shoko urged, her arm reaching out to you. “Don't isolate yourself tonight. Come join us.”
The memory of Bora Bora flooded your mind, a painful reminder of a similar situation when Shoko had extended the same invitation, leading to the discomfort of witnessing Sera’s closeness with Satoru. You knew that wasn’t Shoko’s intention, but it was your ex-husband who couldn’t stop catching himself in these situations. 
This was a bad idea. You knew that. 
So, why did you agree? 
Despite your reservations, curiosity got the best of you. You would vehemently deny it if asked, but deep down, you pondered whether Suguru’s words held any truth about Satoru’s lingering feelings for you. It wasn’t out of pettiness, but rather a desire to confirm if Satoru was truly committed to Akemi. You knew this could potentially hurt you, but after enduring so much pain, you couldn’t imagine anything worse.
“Hey, you guys!” 
“It’s nice of you to join us!” 
“What’s up newlyweds?” 
Upon joining the group at the fireplace, you were partly grateful that you weren’t exactly a fifth wheel in the situation. There were about ten or twelve people in total, with the earlier group still remaining in their seats. It just so happened that you were seated right across your ex-husband, who was too busy trying to keep Akemi warm and cozy. 
“So, Y/N…” spoke a man from the group, who appeared to be Suguru’s colleague. “Are you single?” 
The unexpected question caught you off guard, especially the tension it seemed to create, particularly with Satoru who sat stiffly next to Akemi. Even Shoko and Suguru seemed apologetic for their friend’s behavior, but you brushed it off, recognizing that he had probably indulged a bit too much with beer. He was harmless enough when sober.
“Don’t be asking questions like that,” Suguru intervened, tapping the back of his friend’s head in a playful scold. “That’s rude.” 
The friend protested, still oblivious to the discomfort he had caused. “I was just asking! She’s attractive. I have the right to know.”
You forced a smile, accepting the can of beer he had offered. “Thanks, but I—”
“Even if she’s single, she’s not interested in you,” Shoko chimed in, keeping a casual mien. She had to keep things cool, especially with an explosive Gojou around. You were just thankful that she didn’t exactly reveal the status of your relationship with Toji, and that she was doing her best to divert the attention away from you. 
In this little scene, you caught a glimpse of Akemi tugging at Satoru’s arm, like she was uncomfortable with the conversation. Why? Did it trigger an insecurity within her? She couldn’t even return eye-contact, constantly avoiding your eyes and reacting to any conversation remotely related to you. But Satoru was there acting like a concerned boyfriend, whispering reassurance into her ear, and rubbing her knee in a comforting fashion. 
“You two make a lovely couple,” remarked one of the girls, directing her compliment to Satoru and Akemi.“Weren’t you the girl who caught the bouquet? Looks like there might be another wedding on the horizon.”
“Oooh!” 
“They’re an attractive couple, too.” 
“You guys planning for any children?” 
Just like Bora Bora. A bitter smile lingered on your face, but you decided not to look at Satoru anymore. He must be enjoying this. 
Shoko leaned in and placed an arm around you to whisper her apologies. “I’m sorry, Y/N. This was a bad idea.” 
“It’s okay,” you assured, not wanting to ruin the moment. “I’ll leave after I finish my beer so it won’t be awkward.” 
As the night wore on, conversation flowed easily at first, with everyone exchanging stories and laughter, and eventually more beers and liquor were passed around. Shoko and Suguru were lost in the glow of newlywed bliss, while you found yourself increasingly uneasy as memories of the past mingled with the present.
Satoru’s presence beside Akemi was a constant reminder of your failed marriage, and you struggled to suppress the weakness in your chest that threatened to surface. They held hands and watched the fire together, her head resting on his shoulder, his lips on top of her head. She was trying to voice out a specific concern to him, and he was sweetly listening to her. Did they even realize the ex-wife was in the same area with them? It was insensitive. You never knew Satoru could be this insensitive around you, no matter what his reasons were, his romantic gestures towards her was a clear slap to your face. And he succeeded, because you would be foolish not to admit that it broke your heart in half to witness him choosing another woman over you. 
Again, Satoru. Here we go again. You tried to stop the pounding on your chest. Here we fucking are the second time around. 
Desperate to ease the tension, Shoko and Suguru attempted to steer the conversation toward lighter topics, but their efforts only served to highlight the underlying tension in the air. You forced a smile and nodded along with the conversation, but inside, your heart was heavy with unresolved emotions.
And then someone had to bring up that stupid truth or dare game. 
“Satoru-kun, I dare you to kiss the prettiest woman in this group.” 
“Whoo! Do it! Do it! Do it!” 
Satoru was initially hesitant as he clearly found himself at a crossroads. He had two options here. Should he risk hurting Akemi by refusing to kiss her? Or should he risk hurting you by kissing another woman in front of you?
The clear winner was Akemi, because as soon as Gojou pressed his lips onto hers, you were already walking out of there. You had already excused yourself from the group, your footsteps as heavy as your heart. And unbeknownst to you, Satoru watched you go with a flicker of remorse in his eyes, but it was too late for apologies or second chances. The fire continued to crackle and pop as you left, its flames casting long shadows across the empty space where you had sat.
It was game over. Satoru had won his game. 
— —
Satoru was puzzled by your behavior since the wedding. You seemed determined to avoid him, which made sense with Akemi constantly by his side, but there was also an air of desperation to your avoidance. What baffled him even more was the jealousy you exhibited, as if you weren’t involved with another man, to the point where you even flew to another country just to spend more time with him. 
Like you said, you two were no longer married. It was about time you moved on. Yet, how come you were acting heartbroken over seeing Satoru with another woman?
Did you really think leaving the fire pit so abruptly had gone unnoticed?
Did you really think he had taken his eyes off you?
If not for Akemi telling him that she was having pelvic cramps, Gojou would have run off to follow you the minute you left the fire pit. Clearly, you still had an issue seeing him with another girl and he wanted you to voice it out. But if there was anything he learned during your time together, you would never be the first one to admit that you were jealous. Heck, didn’t you even allow him to bring Sera to Bora Bora that one time?
Look, he didn’t want to hurt you all over again. And if you had walked up to him and called him an asshole for having Akemi around, he would even agree with you. But it was your decision to choose Toji, it was your request for Satoru to find someone else, so why did it seem like you were suddenly changing your mind?
“I’m sorry for being a party pooper,” Akemi groaned in discomfort as Gojou helped her back to their cabin. He quickly refocused on their conversation, reminding himself not to dwell on thoughts of you when Akemi needed his attention—it wouldn’t be fair to her. She was suffering from a terrible illness that he wouldn’t wish upon anyone and he had to be her rock. “It’s been hurting quite a bit lately. I really should start with my treatment.”
Once inside their room, he swiftly settled her into bed. “Where does it hurt?” He applied a gentle touch to her pelvic bone, massaging the area to alleviate her discomfort. “Here?”
“Mhm. Thank you,” she lightly spoke, her soft hand caressing his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
“You look really pale, though. I’m worried,” he remarked, sympathizing with her. Her complexion betrayed the pain she was holding back, though she likely hesitated to admit she wanted to go home and rest. “Do you wanna go home? Even if it’s in the middle of the night, I can have my driver pick us up.”
She shook her head quickly. “No, no. Please, I'll be fine. You won't get to see Shoko and Suguru for a while once they’re on their honeymoon, so I want you to spend time with them here.”
“You sure? But you always come first.” 
“I’ll be okay.” 
As Satoru continued to massage the area where Akemi felt pain, his thoughts inevitably drifted to you. He recalled the time when you were pregnant with Sachiro, experiencing frequent lower abdominal pain as your body adjusted to the baby. Each night, Satoru stayed up, gently rubbing your belly until you drifted off to sleep. It was one of his happiest memories during your marriage—the domestic bliss of being your husband and the memory of him caring for his wife. He wasn’t sure if he was missing it, or if he was just recalling a past memory, but looking at Akemi, Satoru wondered if he was prepared to have all that again but with another woman. 
He couldn’t give himself an answer. 
“I’m such a terrible person.” 
He should be telling himself that, but it was Akemi who said those words out loud as her brown doe-eyes stared at him solemnly, an expression that reflected guilt and remorse in equal measure. 
“How come?” Satoru’s voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, gently tucking the sheets around her while perching on the edge of the bed.
Her smile held a touch of sorrow, yet there was a glimmer of relief in her eyes. “I feel like I’ve failed Y/N. She treated me like family, like a sister, and now I can’t even face her properly. I’m just terrified, you know? I don’t want to keep letting her down. I never meant to cause her pain.”
For a moment, Gojou fell silent at her admission. “It’s all my fault. You two never would have been in this position if it wasn’t for me.” 
“Absolutely not,” Akemi persisted before leaning in to plant a tender kiss on his cheek. “Tonight, you’ve shown me that you’ve truly moved on from her. I was starting to worry, afraid that I could never fill the space she held in your heart. But since the wedding, you’ve never sidelined me or made me feel like an afterthought. You’ve never made me feel like second best. You’ve always prioritized me. I understand it’s hard seeing your ex-wife, but I appreciate your efforts more than you know. You make me feel incredibly special.”
Satoru swallowed hard. The mention of your name sent a pang of guilt coursing through his chest. He knew he had hurt Akemi with his lingering attachment to his past and his inability to fully let go of the woman who had once held his heart in her hands. He wanted to agree with Akemi, to reassure her that he had chosen her, but the truth remained elusive, buried beneath layers of denial and self-deception. He even had to close his eyes for a minute, unable to meet her gaze as a tumult of conflicting emotions swirled within him. He wanted to tell her the truth, to confess the depth of his feelings for his ex-wife, but the words were caught in his throat.
In that moment, Satoru felt more lost and alone than ever before, trapped in a web of his own making, and unable to confront the truth behind his true feelings. Moved on? Had he truly moved on from you, or had he simply buried his feelings beneath a facade of indifference?
“You should rest your eyes,” was the only thing he could tell her, planting a kiss on her forehead before he had turned off the lights. 
With the clock ticking past 11 o’clock and their recent conversation still echoing in his mind, Satoru felt an urgent need for clarity. He knew he had to confront his thoughts alone. So, without disturbing Akemi’s peaceful slumber, he quietly slipped out of the cabin, seeking solace in the night air. Immediately, as he got out, he was met with the apologetic eyes of his best friend. 
“Hey,” Satoru greeted, confused by the urgency in Suguru’s expression. “What’s up?” 
Suguru took a deep breath before he rubbed the back of his head. “There’s something I ought to tell you.” 
— —
You had been standing at the edge of the lake for a while now, the cool night air sending shivers down your spine as you gazed out at the shimmering expanse of water before you. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the tranquil scene, its soft light dancing on the surface of the lake like a thousand tiny stars.
The temptation to dive into the dark waters below tugged at your heart like a siren’s song, beckoning you to leave behind the pain and sorrow that had plagued you for so long. You longed to feel the icy embrace of the lake envelop you, to lose yourself in its depths and wash away the memories that haunted you every waking moment.
Is this how it feels like to finally let go? 
As you stood on the shore, your toes just inches from the water’s edge, a wave of despair then washed over you, threatening to pull you under like the undertow of a riptide. You thought of Sachiro, your sweet, innocent son, asleep in his bed back in Tokyo, his laughter and smiles serving as an antidote to the pain in your heart.
And then him… 
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you thought of Satoru. Despite the pain he had caused you, it was impossible not to yearn for him still, because his memory was a ghost that haunted you in every waking moment. But you knew that you couldn’t continue to live in the shadow of your past marriage. You had to escape being trapped in a cycle of longing and regret. You owed it to Sachiro to be strong, to find the courage to let go of the man who had once been your everything.
With your empty gaze, the calm lake shimmered in the moonlight like a blanket of liquid silver. You had come to the lake seeking solace, seeking escape from the unbearable pain that gnawed at your heart like a relentless tide. But as tears left your eyes, your emotions threatened to drown you in a sea of despair. 
Without hesitation, you dropped your shawl to the side, shedding yourself off of the cloth with a sense of reckless abandon. The fright of swimming in open water, especially at night, could have you passed out in a matter of seconds, but you paid it no mind as you waded into the water. 
Is this how it feels to finally give up? 
The lake embraced you like an old friend, enfolding you in its cool embrace as you swam out into the darkness. Each stroke brought you closer to the center of the lake, closer to the heart of your pain, and yet you felt strangely at peace, as if the water itself held the key to your salvation. You took time floating on your back, staring up at the stars that glittered like diamonds in the night sky, you felt a sense of clarity wash over you. You knew that your love for Satoru was a burden you could no longer bear.
But more than that, you knew that you couldn’t let your own pain dictate the course of your son’s life. Sachiro deserved better than a mother consumed by sorrow, better than a life overshadowed by the ghosts of the past.
With a deep breath, you let go of the pain that had held you captive for so long. You submerged yourself into the depths of the lake, watching as the night sky vanished beneath the surface like a wisp of smoke in the wind.
In that moment, you felt a sense of freedom unlike anything you had ever known. You just had to stay still. You had to keep yourself underwater, hold your breath until you no longer needed it, and… 
And…
You struggled to breathe, your mind consumed in panic telling you that you would die if you had kept yourself submerged for another minute, but you were adamant on staying there. You fought battles in your own mind, despite your body fighting back to keep you alive. 
At least soon, you would finally meet your mom again. 
“...”
“......”
“....Y/N!” 
“.......Y/N!” 
Feeling your vision blur and your limbs growing limp, you surrendered to the natural sway of the water. Bubbles escaped from your nose, your mouth tightly sealed shut. And the next thing you knew, you were back on the water surface, drawing breath like a fish out of the water. You could feel someone tugging at your arm, could feel the presence of another person dragging you out of the water, his arms pulling you into an embrace. 
“Y/N! What the hell are you thinking?!” 
You sobbed uncontrollably, your heartache pouring out as Satoru cradled you in his arms, his white hair damp from his efforts to rescue you from the water. How and when did he arrive? Your mind couldn’t process the details amidst the turmoil. All you could do was surrender to the flood of tears, feeling paralyzed from head to toe as you cried into his embrace.
Is this another dream? 
Is this another hallucination? 
You released a bitter laugh. Please. You closed your eyes, laughing and crying like a mad person. Please stop the pain. 
“Y/N, please,” his whispers were tender, yet tinged with a sorrow that amplified your heartache. “What about Sachiro?” He, too, shed his own tears, his ocean-blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight as they filled with tears, his voice breaking. “What about me?”
Your face was pressed against his chest, anguish coursing through you, feeling as if your very soul was being torn asunder. “Th-That’s the... the same thing... I’ve been asking myself,” you managed between sobs, struggling to draw a steady breath. “I’m... I’m always th-thinking about other people... and never myself.”
He fell silent, his response lost in the weight of your words, perhaps laden with guilt or his own sorrow. But his presence there, holding you close, as if he still harbored love for you, tore another piece from your already battered heart. He shouldn’t be here. He should have been with Akemi. He should be anywhere but near you. With a surge of adrenaline, you began to push him away, propelling yourself through the water, racing toward the shore despite the weakness in your limbs. Satoru called out your name, his voice a desperate plea, as he followed after you, his movements slower but filled with urgency.
“Stop!” Your voice rose, echoing against the night as you stood on the shore, water cascading from your body in sync with the tears streaming down your face. “L-Leave me alone... Please. Why are you here?”
You knew Satoru well enough to understand what had driven him to chase after you. Perhaps he had grown concerned, either from noticing your absence or from someone informing him of your uncharacteristic nighttime swim. His actions were undoubtedly unusual; he knew all too well of your fear of open water, prompting him to leap into action to rescue you.
But you didn’t need him to be here. You didn’t need him anywhere. He wasn’t yours anymore. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, his voice carrying the weight of confusion and concern, his steps cautious as he approached you. He looked at you with tears in his eyes, his expression vulnerable and pleading, like a child seeking comfort, desperately hoping to be understood, to be heard. “You’re not with Toji anymore.”
“Why should I?” You struggled to compose yourself, wiping away the tears that blurred your vision. “It doesn’t matter—”
“It fucking matters, Y/N!”
“It shouldn’t matter!” Your voice cracked with emotion, your heart pounding painfully against your ribs. “Why should it matter, huh?”
“Because I love you!” His words echoed through the night, raw with emotion that had never been confronted until now. “Because I can’t fucking get over you. Because I’m a fool for you!”
You pushed him away, a surge of anger and hurt rising within you. “H-How dare you,” you choked out, your fists trembling as you struck his chest. “How dare you say that to me when you’re with someone else! You n-never truly loved me, Satoru. Y-You never did!”
“You wanted me to find someone new, Y/N,” his voice cracked with emotion, pained by his own words, “I just did what you asked me to do, even if that wasn’t what I truly wanted.” 
You vehemently denied his assertion in your mind, shaking your head in refusal. “Stop saying that. Just stop. Please.”
He already had his grip on your hand, pulling you closer. “Y/N—”
You jerked your hand away sharply, but then a wave of despair washed over you. “Every time I see you with her, I convince myself that I’m fine with it, that this is what I wanted, what I chose.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you recalled every heartbreak. “I tell myself that I deserve it, that you deserve to be with someone who can make you happier. But then I remember our past…” You paused, closing your eyes to stem the tears. “And then I compare it to your relationship with her now. I can’t help but wonder, why didn’t I receive that kind of love and respect from the beginning? Why did it take me nearly drowning in an ocean for you to realize and try to make things right three years ago?”
His grip on your hand tightened, as if he wanted to hold onto you and never let go, as if he wanted to reassure you with his touch that he was there, listening, understanding, feeling every word you uttered.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible amidst the crashing waves and the heavy weight of your emotions. “I’m sorry for everything I did wrong, for every moment I failed to show you the love and respect you deserved, Y/N.”
You hated it. You hated hearing his words now, because it was three years all too late. You had already gone through so much suffering, so much anguish that you didn’t deserve, just because you wanted a happy marriage. Just because you wanted to love and be loved. By him. By the person you married. 
“It d-doesn’t change anything,” you murmured, your voice breaking with sorrow. “I can’t undo the pain, the heartache. I can’t erase the memories.”
“I know,” he replied softly, his eyes filled with remorse. “But let’s try again. Let me try again, Y/N. Please.”
You wanted to believe him, to believe that he meant every word, that he was sincere in his intentions. But the wounds of the past were still fresh, and the memories of betrayal were still lingering in your mind.
“You know what hurts me more?” you asked, “It’s the fact that you didn’t lose your memories of me, but you still ended up falling for her,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Satoru’s silence felt like a confirmation to you. Perhaps he had indeed fallen in love with Akemi, and you were the obstacle standing in the way of his complete commitment to her. You were just a relic of his past, a piece that he needed to discard in order to embrace his future with Akemi. It seemed that fate had already decided that you and Satoru would never find happiness together, and this should serve as nothing more than a closure. 
But god be damned, it was tearing you apart. 
You tugged at the necklace around your neck, the pendant bearing half of his heart, and in your trembling hand, you ripped it off. As painful as it was, your next action was to hurl it into the darkness of the lake, discarding the last remnant that linked him to you, watching as it disappeared beneath the surface of the lake with a soft splash.
You know the difference between us, Satoru? You thought silently. I dove into the ocean just to find our wedding ring, but you would never plunge into that lake to retrieve that necklace.
With determined steps, you turned away before he could react, walking away from that place, walking away from him. You resolved that this would be your final encounter with Satoru Gojou in your lifetime, because there was no need for him in your life, just as he no longer needed you in his. You two would remain in the past, a memory best left behind.
This was you letting him go. 
But then, just as you were about to walk away, you heard a faint noise from the darkness behind you—a splash, followed by the sound of another frantic splashing.
Your heart pounded heavily in your chest. You turned back toward the lake, your eyes widening in shock as you saw Satoru thrashing in the water, his arms flailing as he searched desperately for the necklace you had thrown away.
“Satoru, you idiot!” you cried out, your voice filled with disbelief and concern and pain and overwhelming heartache. Without a second thought, you ran back to the cold water, your feet sinking into the soft sand as you waded into the lake. “Satoru, what are you doing?!” you called out again, your heart racing as you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his arm as he struggled to stay afloat.
“I have to find it,” Satoru gasped, his voice strained with exertion. “I have to find the necklace you threw.”
Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes, seeing the desperation and determination that burned within them. You knew then that you couldn’t let him risk his life for a piece of jewelry, no matter how sentimental it may be.
“Satoru, please,” you pleaded, your voice trembling with emotion. “It’s not worth it. Let it go—”
But Satoru shook his head, his gaze fixed on the dark waters below. “I have to find it," he insisted, his eyes tearful. “It’s my heart. I gave it to you.”
 I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. 
The tension between you crackled like electricity in the air. In that moment, all of your walls came crashing down, your heart laid bare before the man you had once loved with all your soul.
With tears streaming down your cheeks, you reached out and pulled Satoru into your arms, your lips meeting his in a desperate, longing kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of pent-up emotion, a bittersweet union of love and pain that left you both breathless and raw. Your lips moved together in a tender dance, each kiss a silent plea for forgiveness, for understanding, for a second chance at the love you had lost. It was a kiss that spoke of regrets and what-ifs, of dreams left unfulfilled and promises broken.
For years, you had been strangers, your hearts closed off to each other in an attempt to shield yourselves from the pain of your past. But in that moment, as you clung to each other in the darkness, you couldn’t deny the truth that still lingered between you—that your love for each other had never truly died.
As you finally pulled apart, gasping for air, you looked into Satoru’s eyes, seeing the depth of his pain mirrored in your own. “I hate you,” you whispered, your voice laced with grief and surrender, "so much."
Satoru reached out and brushed a tear from your cheek, his touch gentle and tender. “I hate me, too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his eyes shining with guilt, “for hurting you.”
You couldn’t erase the past, nor could you predict the future. But as you stood together in the middle of the lake, your hearts entwined once more, you found solace in the simple act of being together, of sharing your pain and your love in the darkness of the night. And as you held each other tight, the gravity of your connection pulled you to kiss him again. 
Once more, you met his lips in a deeper kiss. His lips moved in perfect sync with yours, and the taste of his tongue was met with the familiarity you two shared. It was as if your bodies were moving on its own, and you allowed it to dictate whatever action it desired. Forget everything for now, was all you could think of in your head. In your mind, it was all Satoru. It was the man you love. The man you married. The man you share a child with. 
You were too engrossed with the feeling of his lips that you didn’t even realize he had your legs wrapped around his waist. And with your arms around his neck, you could feel him lift you up, never breaking the kiss as he carried you out of the lake. With each step he took, your kiss only got deeper and deeper. You had never felt such intensity throughout your marriage, and you were intoxicated by the feeling of kissing him again. 
Of feeling his lips around your jawline. Your neck. Your chest. You were gasping on his mouth, had his lips completely enveloped with yours, not realizing you were stumbling inside your cabin, desperate to find somewhere to lay on. 
And before you knew it, the night had played way differently than expected.
Both your wet clothes were on the floor in a tangle of fabric, forgotten in the heat of your passion. And now, with your bare body on top of him. His arms caressed the smooth skin of your back, his lips feathering kisses along your bust. As you moved your hips slowly, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips. Satoru’s member was warm inside you. Your bodies were tingling from the intensity of your lovemaking in the dimly lit room. And when you pulled away, your eyes were locked in a silent exchange of yearning.
Without a word, Satoru reached out and gently cupped your breast, his touch sending electricity down your spine. You leaned into his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you felt the heat of his body pressing against yours.
Your lips met once more, a tender exploration of each other’s mouths, and he was taking that chance to shift the position you were in. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to enter you again. You were whimpering under him, melting into his passionate movements. You have had sex with Satoru multiple times before, but it was never this emotional. It was never this passionate. You could feel the difference with the way he kissed you, with the way he looked at you, with the way he touched you. 
“S-Satoru—!” 
“Mmm… I missed you so fucking much, Y/N.”
And then, finally, you came together in a flurry of hands and lips and skin, your bodies melding into one as you gave yourselves over to the exquisite pleasure of your lovemaking. 
At that exact moment, as you moved together in perfect harmony, you knew that you were home.
— —
When Akemi woke up, she could tell something felt wrong. 
It didn’t help that Satoru was not by her side as she opened her eyes, blinded by the sunlight that peeked through the window. Was he out for a morning run? Or perhaps he was indulging in a leisurely bath? She entertained the idea of joining him, wanting to express her gratitude for his care and support.
Her heart swelled with love for him, despite all the risks and uncertainties. He was her rock, her confidant, her everything. In him, she found solace and strength, and she couldn’t imagine her life without him. Despite the troubles of his past, she felt blessed to have crossed paths with him. She longed for the kind of deep connection and lasting commitment that she saw in others’ marriages, a dream she harbored for her own future. And in Satoru, she saw the perfect partner to share that dream with, to build a family and a life together that she had always yearned for.
Akemi wasn’t ashamed by how smitten she was with him. In fact, she was beginning to have more confidence in her decision to pursue a relationship with him. She just hoped you would understand, that you would eventually let go of the grudge in your heart. At the end of the day, she wasn’t trying to hurt you. She was only trying to pursue her happiness. 
And the exact source of her happiness was someone she endeavored to find that morning. She put on a robe and searched every room in the cabin, calling out for his name, wondering why she couldn’t hear his voice. 
With no response forthcoming, Akemi decided to exit the cabin in search of Satoru. Assuming he had likely been with Suguru all night, she scanned the vicinity, expecting to spot his tall, white-haired figure. Yet, after several minutes of fruitless searching, she couldn’t find him and instead, encountered a hotel staff member. That was when she decided to finally inquire about his whereabouts.
“Excuse me,” she began, halting the staff member’s stride, “Have you seen my boyfriend? He’s tall, with white hair and blue eyes.”
“Ah, Mr. Gojou?” the hotel staff responded, scratching her head as realization dawned. She then gestured toward the last place Akemi wished him to be. “Um, I think he’s in there.”
Akemi’s heart raced as if she had seen a ghost. Her complexion drained of color, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized that the cabin she had been directed to was yours. And in a twist of fate, just as she stood there in shock, the man she loved emerged from the cabin, equally wide-eyed.
“‘Kemi…” he began, frozen in place, “Let’s talk first—”
But she cut him off with a scoff. Her hands trembled with a tumult of emotions—anger, pain, and betrayal—threatening to overwhelm her. She was on the verge of collapse, her mind reeling with questions. Was he going to explain his actions? No, there was only one question that demanded an answer.
“Did you… did you do it?” she asked through gritted teeth, her voice laced with accusation.
Satoru didn’t need to respond. As Akemi pushed the door open, her worst fears were confirmed as she saw you standing behind him, draped in nothing but a blanket. Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could think, her body reacted, her hand connecting with Gojou’s cheek in a resounding slap.
“You never changed!” she cried out, her voice cracking with anguish. “You’re still a cheater!”
Satoru struggled to deflect each fist she hurled at him, but her rage and despair overwhelmed any attempt to reason with her. She was consumed by her pain and the looming betrayal she anticipated, unable to comprehend that her worst fears were coming true before her eyes.
“‘Kemi, please,” Satoru pleaded in vain.
“...Akemi, I'm sorry,” you interjected, your voice heavy with remorse as you wiped your tears. “It’s not his fault. It’s mine.”
Upon hearing your words, Akemi erupted. She disregarded your friendship, cast aside your shared memories, and denied that she had ever considered you a friend. Her tear-filled eyes bore into you with accusation. “Y-You,” she began, her voice choking with sobs, “You’re a hypocrite, Y/N!”
You remained silent, absorbing her words.
Akemi pressed on with her onslaught. “You’re a hypocrite! You’ve become the person you despised the most when you were married,” she accused, recalling the anguish you endured during Gojou’s affair. “You’re no better than Sera! And that’s why you’re miserable, and you’ll forever be miserable! If this is your way of getting back at me,” she paused, betrayed by the anguish in her voice, “Then jokes on you, because Satoru will never be faithful to you. He’ll keep cheating on you, just like he did now with me! You two belong in that cycle!”
She fled before she could hear your response, but Satoru’s whispered apology lingered in the air, unclear of who its intended recipient was. At that moment, she didn’t care anymore. She raced back to her cabin, tears streaming down her face as she hastily packed her belongings.
She moved mechanically, tossing her belongings into her luggage while grappling with the overwhelming pain of his infidelity. Try as she might to focus on the task at hand, her tears flowed freely, and she surrendered to her grief, cradling her face in her hands.
Amidst her anguish, she couldn’t ignore the escalating pain in her pelvic region, a physical echo of the agony in her heart. Each sob seemed to intensify both sensations, leaving her feeling utterly shattered.
With that confrontation, Satoru faced a pivotal choice: to stay with you or to pursue Akemi. 
While Akemi had anticipated that he might choose you, she was taken aback when she swung the door open,
bags in hand, 
only to find Satoru Gojou standing on her doorstep.
2K notes · View notes
andvys · 28 days
Text
You said you were gonna grow up (then you were gonna come find me) ⭐︎ S.H.
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⭐︎ Warnings: slight angst, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood best friends to lovers, allusions to cheating (but not really), mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited love, hurt/comfort
⭐︎ Summary: You and Steve used to be inseparable, best friends since childhood, you shared something special, something rare. You promised each other forever but... promises are never to keep... right?
⭐︎ Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
⭐︎ Word count: 10k
⭐︎ Author's note: To my Steve girlies who have read (and still mourn) I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss -- in the middle of writing this little oneshot, I noticed that Steve and reader reminded me of someone, and then I realized that it's basically Steve and Cheer in a different universe (if Steve hadn't fucked up as badly as he did). This is... what they should have been.
Also shoutout to @hellfire--cult for inspiring me to finish this oneshot (finally) and @ghost-proofbaby thank you for picking a title for me, and for your sweet words about this little piece, you're both the bestest
⭐︎ my library
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divider by @saradika (I screamed when I saw the folklore dividers)
The smell of weed and smoke lingers in the air, music blares through the house and bounces off the walls, laughter and giggles come from every corner, conversations he couldn’t care less about yet listens in on because what else is there to do at a party? 
Steve once found himself at home in such gatherings, now he feels nothing but bored as he watches the people instead of interacting with them like he once used to do. 
He used to be on the dancefloor, at the keg stand, pressing some girl against the wall and kissing her neck before taking her upstairs into one of the empty bedrooms – but those days are long over and they are not to be missed, not in the slightest. 
Now he is sitting out in the backyard of some stranger’s house, sipping on a lukewarm soda and waiting for Robin to get sick of this party so he can take her home before going to his empty house and crashing out on his new bed. Seeing as she’s jumping around on the dancefloor with Vickie, it doesn’t seem like she'll want to leave anytime soon. 
 A sigh falls from his lips and he slumps his shoulders in boredom. 
He could be socializing, talking to girls, flirting with them, with the ones who keep waving at him and sending him suggestive, overly sweet looks – he isn’t interested. The past few months were wasted ones, disastrous dates, one or two meaningless hookups, girls who weren’t interested in him but only in sex – that was his reality and he didn’t want that anymore, he doesn’t want that anymore, he wants something real, he wants to feel something, he wants someone to want him for more than just that one thing, he wants a connection, a bond, he wants… you. 
Steve’s lips part, his eyes lighten up, glowing just like the stars in the night sky, he sits up straighter and cranes his neck to see you better, his heart skipping in a way it hasn’t in a long time, he forgot what it feels like… but of course you are the one to remind him of the way his heart can skip and flutter when he feels something, you have always been the one, the only one. 
Not even Nancy could make him feel half of the things you could make him feel. 
But he blew his chances with you – the only chances that ever mattered. 
He hears your laughter, your beautiful giggles that he missed every day since you left, even from all the way here, he can hear the voice that accompanied him throughout most of his life… until it didn’t. 
You were his best friend, the only friend that mattered until he found Robin. You were with him from the moment your mothers introduced you both to each other, joined at the hip, you went through it all together, different hobbies, different friend groups, first crushes and rough school days, arguments with so called friends, first parties, first drunken nights, you went through so much and you did it all together, you experienced everything together. 
Steve would sneak into your room, late at night, he would use the vines on the wall as a ladder, no matter how many times you scolded him, he still climbed up because he wanted to see you so desperately, even when he spent the whole day with you, it just wasn’t enough, you’d spent the nights whispering and talking about the newest gossips, sometimes he would paint your nails or braid your hair, sometimes you would just lie next to each other and listen to some new album and sometimes you would cuddle and fall asleep in each other’s arms, it was a regular thing, it was something constant. 
But then something changed, you both got curious, you both started acting upon feelings that have been there for a long time already, feelings that were no longer innocent and childish turned into something more. 
You were each other’s first kiss, it was nothing more than a peck at first… and then it was a second and a third before you kissed for real. And then, it was just another regular thing, you started cuddling and kissing every night, smiling and giggling through it all, holding hands and pulling each other closer and closer. 
Those innocent kisses turned into makeout sessions and those turned into your first time. 
It was his first time and yours, you shared it with each other, like you shared everything else together. 
It was filled with nervous giggles, blushing cheeks and shaky touches, you were both scared to do something wrong but you assured one another and you both did your best, he took care of you and you of him. It was slow, it was soft, it was perfect. A night he will never forget. 
Nothing ever came close to this moment, nothing came ever close to how you made him feel. 
Steve should have asked you out after that night, he should’ve, but he didn’t, he chickened out, he got scared and he left the next morning without saying goodbye. That was his biggest mistake. 
To this day, he doesn’t know how you felt about it all, you never spoke of this night again, you never mentioned it again, you both acted like nothing happened, you continued your friendship like you didn’t ruin it. 
He kept coming over, everything stayed the same… but it didn’t. 
You started slipping away from him and he was too busy to notice, he became captain of the basketball team, girls started noticing him, he started going on dates even though you were all he could think about, it felt wrong to hold their hands, to kiss them, to touch them, he felt as though he was betraying you but his new friend Tommy encouraged him, spoke lies into his ear about how you went on dates on the nights you canceled on him. 
He was hurt, he was angry, and it only was a matter of time before he invited a girl who wasn’t you into his sheets. 
He hated how he felt afterwards, but he didn’t stop, he kept going and before he could even blink, he was the most popular boy in school, he was King Steve, the guy who could have anyone but still only had eyes for one. 
Though your shared nights became less frequent, you still spent time with him, even when you weren’t fond of Tommy and Carol, his big parties or the way he treated girls, you were still there and it bothered him that he couldn’t have you. 
It was clear that you didn’t feel the same, despite the many signs that he had missed at that time. He was your best friend, just your best friend, just Steve. He could’ve made a move, he could've asked you out on a date, he could’ve finally confronted you about your night together and how you felt about it, how you felt about him, but he was scared and it was ironic really, because he was good with girls, very charming and cocky, smug and arrogant but not with you, no, not with you. You made him nervous, you made his chest feel weird, his stomach too, you made his heart race and flutter, you made his skin feel hot and his mind all crazy. 
You got him bad. 
You made him fall in love. 
But he was a coward when it came to his feelings for you, he really was, he didn’t even want to admit them to himself, so he watched you slip through his fingers instead of taking action and making you his. His feelings got stronger despite the distance that slowly grew between you.
You were still there, physically, but your mind was somewhere else and you seemed so far away.
He left notes in your locker, just like he did when he was a kid. 
And you did the same to him. 
You waved at each other from afar and shared smiles, you still drove around town and sang along to your favorite songs after an occasional trip to that one diner out of town, you sometimes slept over and left your sweet scent on his pillows, driving him crazy with it. You were still each other’s best friends. 
But then Nancy stepped into his life and that was it, at that point, it was already crumbling, your friendship was hanging by a thread and it earned its final blow when you moved away for college. 
Occasional calls and letters were all that existed between you at that point, it drove him crazy, it made him sad. He suffered heartbreak when you were gone and you weren’t there to mend it, you weren’t there to hold him, to wipe his tears and tell him that he would be alright – how could you? You were the reason for that heartbreak and Nancy was the one who gave him the final push to open his eyes to the feelings he kept pushing away and feeling so scared of. 
When he realized what a mistake he had made, it was far too late to fix it and he never stopped regretting the actions he took and didn’t take. 
But now you are here, you are back. 
He hasn’t heard your voice in so long, he hasn’t seen your beauty in forever, he missed your presence so dearly. 
One year, one whole year without you. 
Are you here to stay for the summer or are you back for good? He hopes it’s the latter, this town felt anything but home without you here. 
Steve stares at you, he stares and stares without shame. His lips are curled into a soft smile, his cheeks already blushing as he takes you in. 
You are so gorgeous. 
A confident smile is lingering on your lips, your makeup is a little bolder than it used to be, back then, but it suits you, your skirt is short, your top is tight, your cleavage is showing and your skin is glowing, your hair is much longer than he remembers it to be, a few highlights added to your pretty hair color and styled into waves. 
You have always been a sight for sore eyes, he was aware of your beauty from a young age, he called you his princess, his sweet, cute and beautiful princess. But you are more than just beautiful now, you are stunning, bewitching, you are heavenly. 
His heart jumps at the sound of your giggle, his skin heating up so rapidly that it catches him off guard. 
Steve watches you, he watches for what feels like forever, you’re here with friends, girls you used to hang out with back in high school. 
The smile never leaves his lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his heart fluttering more and more each passing second, eyes continuing to light up at every sound of your giggle. 
When you step away from your friends and walk back into the house, he wastes no time to follow, grabbing the chance that he once missed, he goes after you and leaves his drink abandoned on the floor. 
He brushes past a group of guys playing beer pong, dodging the dancing people on the dancefloor, keeping his eyes on your body as he follows. Your skirt is swaying, your waves are bouncing, your hips are shaking slightly, your sweet scent lingers in the air and he can’t help but inhale it deeply, it’s still the same scent that he missed on his pillows and the hoodies you used to steal.
With your back turned to him, you stop in front of the snack table and pour yourself a cup of the overly alcoholised punch. 
Steve doesn’t approach you right away, standing by the doorway, he decides to watch you for a second longer, feeling giddy and nervous now that he is so close to you again. 
You nearly choke on the punch, the bitter taste of alcohol overpowering the fruity taste, you scrunch your brows together and swallow it down in disgust, unimpressed by this drink after all the different kind of cocktails you have tried in the past months on your night outs to bars with your girlfriends from college. 
A sigh falls from your lips and you take a second, much needed sip. 
It feels weird to be back home in Hawkins, the town is much quieter than the big city you called home for the past year and you feel that weird tingly shudder on the back of your neck, knowing that he is so close somewhere. 
Steve. 
You miss him so much, you miss him everyday, but it’s been so long, you can’t even remember the last time you have talked to him. You know that he still works at Family Video and his friend Robin moved into his house with him after his parents moved away from Hawkins, for good. 
But that’s all, you don’t know if he is single or if he is dating – you fear your heart wouldn’t take the information very well, which is ironic really, you haven’t seen him in so long, all you have are your memories, some of which you kept in a shoebox under your bed, pictures, notes, letters and little presents from him. Steve was nothing but a ghost these past months and yet it didn’t stop your heart from falling deeper in love… even with just the boy in your memory, the one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. 
A sigh falls from your lips as you look down at the red beverage in your cup, you close your eyes and take another sip and swallow it but this time in delight, you welcome the burning in your throat. 
“You still make that cute face when you don’t like something.” 
The voice you have just been thinking about sounds deeper than it did when you left. 
Those shudders at the back of your neck, run down your spine and transform into heat across your whole body, your heart skips a few beats.
You turn to face him, sloshing the drink around in your cup, you nearly spill it on the white tiles beneath you. Your breath hitches in your throat and your chest tightens when you look at him for the first time again, those hazel eyes that you have missed so much staring back at you with excitement yet nervousness and you have no doubt that your own eyes match the look in his. 
Your lips curl into a shy smile, your cheeks heat up so quickly and you nearly crush the plastic cup in your hand when you let your eyes roam his body. He somehow got even taller, his arms look stronger and his shoulders wider, his hair got longer too, a spitcurl hanging over his forehead, his cheeks are rosy, a stubble covering his jaw and chin, your eyes move down his arm, stopping at the black hair tie around his wrist that momentarily steals your breath away and fills your chest with hope. You lick your lips and swallow as you stare at the veins in his hands. 
There he stands with his stupid, still perfectly styled hair and his Levi’s that are always way too tight around his crotch, looking down at you and reminding you of how much taller he is and always was. 
“Hey,” he breathes, nervously, happily. 
“Steve,” you say with a smile on your lips, “hi.”
Truthfully, Steve doesn’t know what to say, your heart is beating so hard, he can feel it in his throat, he feels so nervous, you make him nervous. His charm, his flirtatious side still fades into nothing when he is around you and the world around him still disappears when he is with you, some things truly never change. 
He wants to take a step closer and wrap his arms around you, he wants to hug you and never let go again but he doesn’t want to overstep so he forces himself to stay in place. 
“Y-You’re back,” he smiles, trying to hide his excitement. 
You nod, probably a little too quickly. 
“Yeah, I’m back,” you nod again, feeling awkward and tense standing here before him after all the countless nights you spent thinking, dreaming about him. 
He breathes heavily and fidgets with the hair tie around his wrist, “for the summer or…?”
You shake your head, unable to look away from his beautiful eyes. 
“No, I-I transferred to uh the community college here…” You scrunch your face up when you see the surprised look on his face. “I know, lame right? Moving away from Chicago and back to your hometown is uh not the.. move.” 
Not the move? He repeats in his head. 
This might be the best day of his life – the day he had been waiting for, for your return. 
Steve’s eyes widen, he purses his lips as he starts shaking his head, raising his hand a little, he steps closer to you. 
“No! No, I’m just surprised, that’s all, I didn’t think you’d ever come back… honestly,” he chuckles nervously and brings his hand up to scratch the side of his neck. “But I’m happy to see you back here again.” 
Happy is an understatement, the feelings in him can’t be put into words, they do not exist. 
Your eyes soften at his words, your smile transforming into a soft one, hope swirling inside of you. 
Did he miss you like you missed him? 
“I’m happy to see you,” he adds, his cheeks heating up at his admission and your beauty doesn’t help his case, his eyes roam your body, your pretty features, your soft skin, the chain around your neck that looks oh so familiar, his heart starts beating faster, his hands shaking from the giddiness lingering in him. “Y-You look…” Stunning, mesmerizing, gorgeous, sexy, adorable, like an angel or a goddess. “Amazing.” He breathes, blushing red.
Your eyebrows pull together as your wide eyes fill with emotion. 
You see the way he looks at you, you see the redness in his cheeks, the shyness in his eyes that surprises you the most. 
You take a shaky breath, cursing at the way your cheeks heat up and glow so hotly. 
“Thank you,” you say without stutter, to your own surprise. “You don’t look bad yourself, Harrington,” you smirk at him, smugness taking over your blushing features when you see him looking down in nervousness. 
Did you just make Steve blush? 
You open your mouth again, feeling the urge to compliment him again when a whistle interrupts you and wipes the smirk off your face, instead a look of disgust takes over your features when you turn your head to see Tommy Hagan looking you up and down with a perverted smile on his face. 
He pushes his way between you, earning a glare from Steve, whose face turned stone cold and angry. Tommy grabs a red solo cup and pours himself some of the punch while he continues to give you nasty looks, chuckling when looks at your cleavage, “shit, now I get why Harrington always kept his favorite toy to himself,” he smirks and takes a sip of his drink before he steps back to wink at Steve, wiping his chin and looking back to you, “you really grew up.” 
Your lips curl downwards, your brows pull together in a frown. 
“Dude, what the fuck,” Steve frowns at him, giving him a disapproving look. 
Tommy always made you feel uncomfortable with his comments and his weird looks, but it was something else back then. This is new, this is disgusting. 
“If I knew back then that you were hiding these behind your sweaters, I would’ve definitely hit it,” he chuckles darkly as he stares at your boobs. 
Bile rises in your throat and your grip tightens on your cup, the urge to throw your punch into his face growing strong. 
Steve rolls his eyes, a frustrated sigh falls from his lips and he steps towards his former friend, he places his hand on his chest and pushes him back as he takes a protective stance in front of you, protecting you from Tommy’s prying eyes. 
“Alright, that’s enough, asshole,” Steve mumbles angrily. “Leave her alone or I swear to–”
“You swear to what, man? You and I both know you can’t do shit,” Tommy laughs at Steve, his eyes crinkle in amusement, irritating Steve further. 
Steve might’ve lost most of his fights, but he wouldn’t lose one if it came to you. 
He clenches his jaw and glares down at him, feeling rage burn within him. 
“Seriously dude, get lost, alright?” He demands, his voice sounding deeper, more serious than before. 
You look over Steve’s shoulder, feeling safe and protected by him, the way you always did, just even more now. Your stomach flutters with warmth, your heart swelling in your chest. 
To your surprise, Tommy steps away without another word, continuing to chuckle at Steve and the glare on his face. He gives you another look. 
“Call me if you–”
“Fuck off, Tommy,” Steve says through gritted teeth, feeling hot rage flushing through him. 
Tommy takes another sip as he walks backwards, winking at you before he finally turns around and leaves the kitchen, allowing you to finally breathe. 
Steve runs his fingers through his hair and huffs, turning back to you, his features instantly soften. 
“I’m sorry about him.” 
You shake your head, your smile reappearing again, “it’s not your fault,” you shrug, “some people just never change.” 
“Yeah…” He mumbles, wondering if you changed at all, “did you?”
Did you change? You ask yourself. Maybe, surely college has shaped you in some way, being away from home, being independent and all alone, meeting new people and being pushed into situations you would have never allowed as a teenager, did change something in you. 
You got more confident, a little bolder too, you tried new things and did them without shame, something that was once impossible when you were still here and an insecure teen. 
You tilt your head to the side and give him a sly smirk, “why don’t you find out?” 
The anger Tommy left him with fades away, the flirtatious tone in your voice catching him by surprise and you take it even further when you take a step closer to him after placing your drink on the counter, you look up at him with your big eyes that still drive him crazy. 
He doesn’t remember you to be this flirty… this bold but he can’t complain, it makes the fluttering in his stomach feel so much more intense. 
Steve’s lips curl back into a smile, he blinks at you, looking into your eyes intensely, with want and need – nothing changed, if anything, the magnetic force between you has intensified, even when there was mostly only radio silence between you both in these past months. 
Steve licks his lips, a sliver of his confidence slipping back in when he sees the way you look at him, eyes roaming his face and his body. Though his cheeks are still burning and his heart is still racing, no matter how much confidence he can find within himself, you are still you, you are still the girl that holds his heart in the palm of her hand, the one who has him captivated in every way possible, the one who has had him wrapped around her finger, from a very young age. You aren’t just a girl to woo and impress for a single date, you aren’t someone he would forget if a conversation or a date went wrong, you are the one he always wanted to grow old with, to experience everything with, to spend a life with the one who is his everything – one wrong move and he loses it all… again. 
He doesn’t bother to ask if you are with someone, if you are dating and taken, the thought is disturbing to his heart. 
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks as he slowly reaches for your hand and you allow him to take it when you slip your palm against his and give his hand a squeeze.
He nearly crumbles to his knees when he feels your soft touch again, it’s been too long. Your hand always fit into his so perfectly, like it was made to be held by him. 
You nod, whispering a sweet ‘yes, please’. That’s all he needs to hear before he pulls you closer to his body, pushing you in front of him slightly, keeping a protective stance right behind you as he never lets go of your hand, basking in the feeling of having you so close again, of being able to smell your perfume again and the sweet scent of your body wash. 
He rubs circles on the top of your hand, pressing his other hand on the small of your back as he pushes through the crowds of people. He leads you to Robin first, needing to make sure that she will get home safe without him. He finds her playing beer pong with Vickie and a few of their former bandmates from high school. He taps on her shoulder and when she turns around, Steve grows more nervous than before, because her eyes grow wide when she sees you next to him, excitement flashing in them and a big grin appearing on her face after a long moment of staring at you. 
She knows all about you. 
She knows all about his feelings and his regrets. 
She knows how much he missed you. 
She was there when he cried and never stopped talking about you. 
So after greeting you, probably a little too enthusiastically, she moves closer to Steve, raising her eyebrows at him and giving him a teasing, yet pointed look. 
“Go and don’t worry about me, Vickie can drive, she’s not drinking tonight.”
“You sure?” 
She nods, her waves bouncing as she moves her head a little too quickly. 
“Steve I’m fine, go and get your girl,” she winks at him, squeezing his shoulder before she moves back, giving him another look that says nothing but ‘i mean it, don’t fuck it up this time, this is your chance.’ 
Steve nods at her, smiling and feeling reassured by her. He holds your hand tighter and pulls you away before you can properly say goodbye to his friend that you only know from your days in high school. You look back at her to find her staring at the two of you, grinning from ear to ear, she raises her eyebrows at you, eyes glowing as she gives you a smirk and a small wave of her hand. 
You feel a little confused by the teasing look on her face but smile and wave back at her nonetheless before Steve whisks you away and out of the room.
It isn’t weird to hold each other’s hand, to be back together in his car like nothing ever happened, like you never stopped doing this, like things are still normal between you. He makes small talk, it’s not awkward or weird, it’s… nice, anything is as long as you’re with him, even the silly jokes makes or how he tries to quote Shakespeare but fails miserably, he makes you laugh and you… you make him smile. 
You stop by the gas station to grab a six pack and some snacks to share before you drive to the lookout, to the place you always went to when you wanted to be alone together. 
You get comfortable on the hood of his car, as comfortable as you can get on the rough surface. It’s a little chillier out here in the woods, the wind that blows through the trees makes goosebumps arise on your skin. Steve, of course, has to use the opportunity to throw his jacket around your shoulders, rubbing your arms to warm you up as he moves close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. 
You feel something stir within you, something only ever he could make you feel. 
You grab the denim and pull it tighter around you, glancing at him through your lashes, you feel your cheeks heat up when you find him staring at you already, a soft smile playing on his lips that you can see, even in this darkness. 
“Thanks Stevie.” A grin tugs at your lips when his smile moves into a flustered one. 
Steve licks his lips, he removes his hands from your body and busies himself with opening the beer bottles for you and him, “you’re welcome, honey,” he whispers, winking at you. 
You look away from him with blushing cheeks, hiding the smile on your face as you tilt your head down but nothing goes unnoticed by him, he sees the flustered expression in your features, the cute smile you’re trying to hold back. 
He scoots closer to you until his shoulder is pressed against yours, he offers you the opened bottle. You glance at his hand, taking in the size of it, how big it is, how his veins pop, how long his fingers are – it makes you squirm and clench your thighs together and he notices it, he looks down and he almost regrets it, almost. Your skirt has ridden up, it nearly covers nothing, at this point. Your skin looks so smooth, thighs so soft, he wants to touch them, kiss them, feel them wrapped around his head. 
His skin heats up, his lower stomach tingles, he craves you, in every way possible, he just wants to… feel you, he wants to feel you close, he wants your skin on his, he needs to know that you are truly back. 
Your touch sends shivers down his spine, it makes his stomach flip. 
He blinks, looking down at the bottle he is still holding, watching the way your hand curls around it, fingers grazing his own. Your hand is so much smaller than his, the urge to compare the size of his own to yours growing strong. 
“Steve?” 
Your soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he blushes, cheeks burning maroon. He shakes his head a little, squeezing his eyes shut as he furrows his eyebrows, he removes his hand from your bottle, already missing the touch of your hand. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs as he runs his fingers through his hair, “I got a little uh… distracted.” 
He instantly regrets it when his eyes fall back on your lap again, your giggle makes him blush even deeper, he eyes you from the side, watching the way you press your lips against the bottle, you take a sip, trying to hide the smirk on your lips. 
He feels a sudden sense of nervousness rushing through him – here he is, in the presence of the girl of his dreams, the girl that slipped through his fingers, the girl that should be his and he is messing up. He begins to stutter, trying to distract himself once again, this time from your legs, from your soft skin, from how much he wants to touch and kiss you, from how beautiful you are but you make him stutter, you make it difficult for him to talk, you make it impossible for him to be smooth, to flirt with you the way he always did with other girls and suddenly, he is reminded of why he was always so scared of revealings his feelings to you, there was too much at stake, he didn’t want to lose you. 
He always felt so pathetic around you, like a stupid kid in love, one that can’t talk to his crush without blushing, without stuttering. 
And this is exactly what you always adored about him. 
But he doesn't know it, he doesn’t even realize it, he doesn’t even see the way your eyes always light up, the way they soften as you look at him, the way you admire him. 
Before he even takes a sip of his beer, he already feels like he is drunk, his skin is hot, his mind hazy, he feels happy, at ease, like he is floating, all because of you, you make him feel so… light. 
He is drunk on you, without having touched you properly, your presence is enough. 
He wonders how you are holding up, what emotions linger inside of you — you look so calm, relaxed. 
You fall into a comfortable conversation, catching up on the things you have missed in each other's lives, since being separated. And while your eyes stay glued on the night sky, only glancing at him every once in a while, he watches you, with a fluttering feeling in his chest and a smile on his lips. 
You laugh with each other, getting lost in the memories that you both start bringing up, joking and slapping each other’s shoulders softly as you start to tease one another about the stupid things that you both have done in the past. 
You have changed, not only physically did you get even more beautiful, you got something that you didn’t have before, a boldness that you always admired others for. You used to be so shy, anxious to ask the simplest questions, too nervous to hold eye contact for longer than two seconds, even with him, sometimes. But now, despite you choosing to look at the sky instead of him, he can tell that you are not that shy girl anymore, who was afraid to look into his eyes. You are confident, comfortable in your own skin, not afraid to be you, not afraid to gaze into his eyes when you tilt your head to look at him. 
He wonders what or… who caused it, the change in you. 
Was it just the circumstances? The big city that pushed you out of your comfort zone? 
New friends? Being on your own? Or… was it the experiences you have made in these past few months that have shaped you from an innocent, shy teenager into a confident, young woman? 
His stomach churns at the thought of the things you have done while being away from home, or better yet, who you have done them with. He has no right to be upset about it, he knows it, yet he can’t stop the sinking feeling inside of him as he thinks of the hands that have touched your body or the lips that kissed yours, if you had dated someone, if you are someone else’s right now. 
The question tumbles from his lips before he can even stop himself. 
“Do you have anyone?” 
The storm that was just raging in his mind, the string of questions that followed now silenced as he stares at you, waiting for your answer with a racing heart and clammy hands. 
The sound of crickets and the rustling of the trees are the only sounds now filling the space around you.
“You mean… a boyfriend?” 
He nods and you shake your head at that. You bring the bottle up to your lips, taking a much needed sip. 
“No, I don’t,” you murmur as your eyes roam his face, “why?”
You notice the frown on his face, the way his lips are curled down and his eyebrows are tightly scrunched together. 
“Just wondering… someone like you still single?” 
“What do you mean…?” You ask slowly.
Steve huffs, shaking his head with a smile on his face. 
“I mean… Come on, honey. You’re funny, you’re smart and you’re just… you’re amazing,” he sighs adoringly, hazel eyes running up down and your face and your body. “You’re beautiful, a fucking catch.”
You almost want to scoff at his words, you want to roll your eyes and look the other way. A catch, right. A catch he never wanted. Your heart betrays you when it flutters and prompts a girlish giggle to fall from your lips. 
“Stop.”
He nudges his shoulder against yours, grinning at your flustered face, “it’s the truth.”
Steve feels relieved to know that you don’t have anyone waiting on you, that there isn’t some guy out there that got the girl he always wanted. 
“You have to say that,” you shake your head and drink the last drop of your beer before you throw the bottle down on the grass, making a mental note to pick it up later. 
Because he is your best friend, because he was always your best friend, no matter what – so of course, he has to say these words to you. 
He rolls his eyes at you, huffing, “I’m not just saying that.” 
You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, the way his words can make you feel like that shy teenage girl again, you try to steer the attention away from you. 
You press your palm against the cold, almost icy hood, leaning back, you tilt your head to the side and gaze at him, loving how long his hair grew, how his features are more… manly now, though the boyish grin still lingers. 
“What about you?” You whisper, swallowing the bitterness on your tongue. “Got anybody, Stevie?”
He shakes his head quickly, almost frowning at your question. 
“Me? No… no one really… felt right.” He says with a look of longing in his eyes, the one that is only reserved for you. 
The tension in your chest disappears, almost instantly, you have an idea of what you would feel like had the answer been a different one. 
“I was seeing a girl… for a while but uh… like I said, it… she didn’t feel right,” he admits with a nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach. 
You nod, swallowing harshly. 
“Why didn’t she feel right?” You’re aware of how small, how shaky your voice sounds. 
You wait, wait and wait for him to answer your question, the answer he tries to find in your eyes as it seems because he won’t stop looking at you, it’s like he is searching for something, like he is trying to figure you out, like he is trying to make sense of the question you just asked. 
He doesn’t give you what you want, as always, Steve Harrington pretends like nothing happened, like nothing had been asked. 
But you know what he means, you know exactly what he means, you had someone too, back in Chicago. 
He was nice, he was good to you, in more ways than just one but no matter how much you tried not to think of him, you always failed. He was always there, always in the back of your mind, always ready to haunt you and remind you that he is and will always be the only one that your heart will belong to. 
Your relationship was only short lived, and you left him the moment you realized how unfair it was to stay with him when your heart was somewhere else, when you couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. 
Something rustles in the bushes, something echoes loudly through the woods, something that would have normally made you flinch, doesn’t even faze you now because he is here. You feel safe in his presence, you always did, not even the darkest night or the loudest storm could make you feel afraid as long as he was by your side. 
And yet, you scoot closer to him, not even noticing that you do until his fingers brush against yours and sparks shoot through your entire body. 
And through his. 
You clear your throat and take a deep breath, “yeah… I had someone… but he didn’t feel right either.” You say softly, vulnerably as you meet his eyes again. 
A soft ‘oh’ leaves his mouth and he nods, looking down at the bottle in his hand, he brings it up to his lips and downs the rest of it. He feels his stomach churning, his insides crawling at the mere thought of you with someone who isn’t him and it makes him feel awful, it makes him feel ridiculous because wasn’t that his own fault? He blew his chances with you. He let you go, hell, he didn’t even fight for you. 
He puts the bottle down, wipes his mouth and runs his fingers through his hair before he turns back to you to find you staring at him just the way you always did, with your big doe eyes, those pleading and begging looks you never stopped throwing at him. 
He’d have to be blind to not see it – he always did, he just never allowed himself to admit it, not even to himself, not even when you were all he ever wanted. 
“Why didn’t he feel right?” 
Steve watches the way your lips curl downwards, the way you squint your eyes at him, the softness fleeing as you glare at him instead.
And suddenly, the air around you feels different, tense for another reason, heavy and filled with something neither of you ever addressed before. 
While you take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself – Steve tries to mend the aching in his chest, the hammering that feels just too strong. 
“Why didn’t she feel right, huh?” You ask, scooting away from him and getting off the hood, placing your feet back on the ground, you don’t even bother to smooth down your skirt. You cross your arms over your chest and stand in front of him, demanding the answer you tried to ask softly before. 
Steve sighs, growing fearful and anxious, feeling like he is messing up yet again, like he is about to lose again. 
But you are close, so goddamn close, even through the anger in your eyes, you still stand in reach, your knees now brush against his. He straightens his back, fighting the urge to reach for your hands and just pull you into him, showing you why no one ever felt right. 
He promised Robin, he promised her that if you ever came back, he would go and get you, he would come clean about it all, he would make it all right again. 
“This goes both ways, Steve. You can’t just ask me and then–”
“Because no one is you.”
He won’t fail this again, no matter how scared he is, he just can’t. 
Your lips part in surprise, a painful look crosses your eyes, though the anger doesn’t fade away just yet. You uncross your arms, and shake your head at him. 
His words should bring you joy, shouldn’t they? 
But as you stand here before him, his knees brushing your own, his golden brown eyes staring at you with nothing but love, you can’t help but feel your heart aching because why now? Why not then? 
“So… it took me to leave town… go to college… for you to say this?” You whisper, holding back a choke as your eyes well up with unwanted tears. 
His own eyes panic when he sees just how much pain there is inside of you, how much you hid it. He reaches forward, taking your hand in his, he sighs in relief when you don’t push him away like he thought you would. 
“It was always there. Before our first kiss, before our first time, and then it never stopped. But you were… you were scary. Feeling love that strong at such a young age– it wasn’t in my plans. I was scared… I was scared of loving you and losing you. It happened before.” 
His parents. 
He loved them unconditionally, he loved them no matter what they did and didn’t do, he loved them and he lost them – they abandoned him and then they forgot about him. 
Your eyes show nothing but pain, your heart breaks, all over again, for him. 
And you’re stunned, so goddamn shocked because that word fell from his lips. Love. He loved you. 
You curl your hand around his, squeezing them tightly as he gets off his car, standing tall before you again. 
“You… still could have–”
“Risked it?” Steve interrupts you, furrowing his brows as he looks down at you. “No… I wasn’t going to risk it. Risk losing you…” He scoffs, shaking his head at himself, “now I see how stupid that was because I lost you anyways.” 
His eyes well up with tears, his voice almost cracks and you finally… finally get to see a glimpse into his heart, how much pain he was always hiding.
“No… I don’t think you lost me.”
“Honey, we haven’t talked in–”
“What you felt for me… Is it… Is it past tense?” 
Steve should see the hope in your eyes, he should hear it in your voice too, but he is so scared, so nervous at this moment. 
Everything he had always been afraid of was losing you because of his feelings and he can’t help but wonder, what if he confesses his love to you now and his saddest fear creeps in and he will lose you for good, forever? 
“Why do you want to know?” He asks, shakily. 
You hold his hands tighter, taking another step closer until you are chest to chest. You close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, you look up at him, begging with your eyes, yet again. “Because I deserve to know, Steve, do you still have feelings for me?”
He takes a long pause, feeling like his heart might explode, feeling like the ground might disappear beneath him if he doesn’t finally give you the whole truth. 
His eyes flicker down to your lips, the ones he craved to feel on his own for years, his body aches for you just the way his heart does, desire running deep but love taking full control, driving both his heart and his mind insane over you. He feels the pounding from his chest to his throat, his eyes glossy with tears he shed so many times over you, over his regrets. 
“Yes,” he whispers, already feeling his chest deflating as the pressure slowly sinks away, “like I said, they never stopped.”
Tears spill down yours and his cheeks, his shoulders slump in relief and you, you finally breathe. You sniffle and a giggle falls from your lips, one that makes him furrow his brows but smile because now he can see the happiness in your eyes, the joy from hearing this from him. 
“Oh, thank god,” you whisper and throw your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek against his chest, you hug him tightly, catching him off guard. 
It takes him a moment, it takes him a very long moment. 
His glassy eyes are wide, his heart is threatening to break free from his chest. He wanted this, he wanted you for so long, he feels like this is too good to be true but when he feels your tears seeping through his shirt and how you cling to his body, like you are afraid that he might disappear if you let go, he finally relaxes. His eyes close gently, tears spilling down his cheeks, he melts into your touch and curls his arms around you, cupping the back of your head, he holds you closely, tightly. 
“I missed you so much,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his lips to the top of your head, he gives a first kiss again. 
“I missed you, Stevie,” you murmur into his chest, holding onto his shirt. 
He moves even closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you rise to your tippy toes, wanting to feel more of him, as though he isn’t close enough already, not even when your chest to chest. 
Steve breathes in your scent, the one he used to sink his face into when it still lingered on his pillows, when he longed to feel you in his arms, when he craved you so badly but felt too cowardly to make the move he just made now. 
You cling to one another, like you never have before, not even when he held you during nights you needed him the most, when you were both so convinced that you were nothing more than friends… when just friendship was never something possible between you. 
Steve’s eyes are shut tightly, he is so lost in the feeling of you, feeling so warm, so safe, so loved in your embrace. 
How can his heart race so fast yet feel so… calm? 
You don’t know how much time passes as you stand there in each other’s arms, you are so lost in the moment, you couldn’t care less about anything around you, about the time, about your surroundings, about the world – only you and him matter, nothing more. 
He cups the side of your face when you begin to pull away to look at one another, glossy eyes gazing into each other, lips begging to be connected. His fingers brush through your hair, he tucks your front pieces behind your ears and caresses your cheeks. His hazel eyes flash with adoration. You are so beautiful. It makes his heart clench in his chest.  
You slide your hands up his chest, moving up to his neck and cupping his cheeks, your stomach growing with anticipation the closer you both move to each other. 
No words are spoken, there is no need for them, your eyes tell everything, just like your touch when your lips finally connect. 
Your hearts stop beating, time stops ticking, the world stops moving. 
Everything around you stops. 
Just absolutely everything. 
Your eyes flutter shut, just like his. 
A kiss you both never stopped craving finally happening, not only in your minds, but in reality. 
Steve sighs in contentment, a whimper following close behind, your lips move slowly, softly with each other, you savor each and every second, even when you know that this is only the beginning of it all. 
Nothing and no one could ever compare to this, no one could ever come between you, you are two puzzle pieces, ones that were made for only each other, no one else to match you both. It’s only you and him. Your hearts know, you know, he knows. 
The way he kisses you so gently, so sensually, makes your stomach flip in ways it never did before, not even back then when you shared first and second kisses. 
And Steve, he feels like he is in a dream that he never wants to wake from again, he is too scared to open his eyes and find himself in his lonely bed, surrounded by the scent of you that he only imagines, that forever lingers like a kiss upon his skin. 
But your whimper is real, your lips are real, you are real, your lips taste just like they did before, sweet and peachy, like home. 
You only pull away to catch your breath, smiling when Steve chases your lips with his own, nuzzling his nose against yours as a soft giggle falls from his puffy lips, “god… I missed you, princess.” He murmurs against your lips, knowing that he will keep repeating these words, over and over again, he feels like he has been blessed by the universe. 
Your best friend’s eyes shine so brightly, the love in them that you always craved to see, is so evident, it’s all out in the open now, all in reach, all there for the taking – when not even a few hours ago, you didn’t even know where he was, if he still thought of you, if he still cared for you… 
Tears escape your eyes and he wastes not second to catch them, to wipe them away and kiss your wet cheek. 
“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, feeling like his heart might break, knowing that you have suffered just the way he did, when he thought that you moved on, that you had forgotten all about him just like everyone else did when that was never even the case, when all you did was long for him, love him, even from afar. 
“I love you,” he whispers in relief, feeling like the weight of the world is off his shoulders, “I love you so fucking much, you’re my–”
You cup his cheeks and pull him down once again, kissing him deeply. “You.” Kiss. “Don’t.” Kiss. “Know.” Kiss. “How.” Kiss. “Much.” Kiss. “I.” Kiss. “Dreamed.” Kiss. “Of.” Kiss. “This.” Kiss. “Moment.” 
Steve's heart flutters the way it never did before, butterflies go wild in his stomach, his eyes crinkle and he smiles so brightly, his cheeks hurt. 
“I love you,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you so much, Steve Harrington, you have no idea how much–”
His lips are on yours, pressed against them so strongly as he pulls you into another deep, passionate kiss before you can even finish your sentence. He kisses you in a way no one ever did before. 
His thumbs linger on your cheekbones, his tongue parts your lips so effortlessly, your own clashing against his as the softness of your feelings disappears and transforms into something needy, hungry. This kiss is much faster, much rougher, much more passionate than the first, you get lost in it so quickly. 
When he takes a step back and he sits back down on the hood of his car, he moves his hands down to your waist, pulling you in between his legs. 
Your arms move around his shoulders, your hands get lost in his hair, fingers gripping it tightly as moans escape you. The kiss makes you feel so hot, your stomach burns, your skin feels like it’s on fire as his hands move up and down your back, slipping underneath his jacket that is still around your shoulders, under your shirt and then, he touches your soft skin with his cold hand, something that makes you shiver yet lean closer against him. 
He moans against your lips, he is so intoxicated by you, needing more and more, like you’re his own personal drug. He could keep doing this, he could take you right here, right now. He could taste you, unravel you with his tongue, with his fingers, he could hold your hands and make love to you like he always wanted to, like he hoped he’d get to tonight – because he thought that this might be all he would get, a night with you, only that and no more, because how could you ever want anything more than this with him after all the times he messed up with you? After he let you slip through his fingers like it was nothing?
But this won’t stay a single night, this won’t be one that will haunt him for the rest of his life. 
This will turn into more, so much more. 
He doesn’t want to mess it up again, he wants to take it slow, he wants to give you everything you deserve, everything he craved to give you, all these years, everything he dreamed about, during the day and the night. 
So as much as he wants this, you, your bare skin on his and your whimpers blessing his ears, you deserve more, you deserve to be taken on a date first. 
“Hang on,” he whispers against your lips, cupping your cheeks again, his lips curl into an amused smile when he opens his eyes to see your smudged lipstick that is no doubt on his face now too, your hair a mess just like his own, “I want to… fuck… I want you so bad, I couldn’t stop thinking about this, about you. But I want to take it slow, I-I want to do it right this time, I want to take you on a date and–”
You cut him off with a kiss, once more. Pressing your lips against his plush ones, over and over again until it makes you both giggle. He grabs your waist and pulls you down on his lap, grabbing your cheeks, he presses his forehead to yours.
“Slow is good,” you whisper, caressing his cheek as his fingers run up and down your spine underneath the denim jacket. “I like slow.”
“Yeah?” He smiles.
You nod, though an almost sad smile makes its way on your lips, “you know, I kinda thought you forgot about me until all of this.” You wave your hand around, wiping at your wet cheek as a soft laugh tumbles from your lips. 
You weren’t the only one who stopped calling, who stopped sending letters, he did too, but not for the reasons you thought, clearly. 
A deep frown appears on his face, he tightens his hold on you, raising his hand up towards your face, he cups your cheek. Despite everything he just said, despite the kiss, you still don’t understand just how deep his feelings for you are, how his heart isn’t even his own because it is completely, devotedly yours. 
“I could never forget you,” he whispers with a sad smile on his face, “you’re all I ever think about, now and then, even when we were kids, even when I was… King Steve,” he rolls his eyes at the nickname he used to be so proud of. “You never once left my mind, not once.” 
The smile that makes his way to your lips makes his heart skip a beat, he kisses your cheek, letting his lips linger for a moment. 
“So please, let me make it right, let me fix everything… go on a date with me?” He asks with nothing but hope in giddiness in his voice. 
You squint your eyes and tilt your head, giving him a teasing smile as you pretend to think but his soft eyes make your teasing an impossible task at this moment, you wipe the lipstick off his mouth and nuzzle your nose back against his. 
“I would love to go on a date with you, Stevie,” you whisper, feeling your heart burst from joy and love. 
The one thing you always wanted, you always craved now finally happening, at a moment when you least expected it. 
Coming back home made you so nervous, knowing that you would see him again after all this time of being apart, knowing that your feelings will only continue to grow, no matter the tie between you, filled you with a sense of… dread, because you couldn’t help but wonder – does he even want to see you? 
But, to find out that he had spent every passing moment, thinking about you, about your past, wanting you back and willing you to come running back into his arms lights up everything inside you again – flames you have tried to put out, burning stronger than ever. 
Steve’s eyes well up with tears of joy again, he cups the back of your neck, his lips brush against yours, he can’t even describe his feelings with words, so he doesn’t even try, but he shows you the happiness you brought back into his life, the happiness that was just gone when you were… gone. He kisses you, once, twice… He keeps kissing you, over and over again, unable to stop himself from going back in for more, consumed by love, by gratitude and happiness to know that you came back. 
To know that you won’t haunt his what if’s. 
He won’t chase your shadows wherever he will go. 
Your scent won’t linger from just his memory alone. 
He waited and waited, and he let the lamp burn and now… now you are here, you came back, you came back to him. 
Here, at the lookout where you used to sit on your saddest days, you find your way back to one another again. 
As you embrace the future written for you, you know that the rings on your fingers won't only be imaginary ones like the ones from your childhood. 
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born-to-lose · 1 year
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"No" – people @ me
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obsessedelusional · 7 months
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the prettiest girl in the room (smut)
paring ↬ Eddie Munson x fem!reader
summary ↬ You shared a secret relationship with Eddie, if that’s what you could even consider it. You wished for more but never could bring yourself to tell Eddie this. What happens when your at a party and he gets dared to kiss the prettiest girl in the room?
word count ↬ almost 3k
a/n: felt inspired to write for my pookie eddie munson again.. I will cherish this man till the day I die luv uuuuuu
reblogs & feedback appreciated ♡
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” Eddie responds, sitting back in the couch with his legs spread waiting for his dare. You watch him smiling at his cocky grin towards the random freshman that chose him for truth or dare. Eddie would undoubtedly answer any question or complete any dare thrown his way.
“I dare you to…” The freshman’s voice fades as he looks around the room, trying to think of how to finish his sentence. Eddie only laughs in response, making a joke about finishing his dare sometime today.
Everyone is laughing but you, eyes still on Eddie. Your lips press to your solo cup, taking a sip of the drink someone mixed for you. Your thoughts are else where, the way Eddie is sat reminds you of the night before. When you were sat in his lap, riding his cock. His lips pressed to your chest, leaving marks that are still there. Hidden under your bra.
The freshman takes too long, to the point others begin to suggest dares for Eddie. He still hasn’t looked at you, and maybe that’s entirely your own fault. The two of you have been dating secretly for a few months now. He was the one to offer the secrecy to you, as an attempt to keep your perfect reputation. At first you thought it would be a one time thing so you agreed. Nothing more than a meaningless drunken hook up but after that he had you hooked. You kept coming back for more, until it became a nearly daily occurrence.
The talk of what you two were never to be had. Feelings growing on both sides, and now here you are. At a party tipsier than you should be. You stopped keeping count a while ago. Staring at him with fuck me eyes, too drunk to care who’s watching. You two exchanged a few smiles, brief conversations as if you two were nothing more than acquaintances. Which upset you but at the end of the day it’s your fault for making Eddie feel like he needed to be a secret in the first place.
“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” The freshman finally speaks, louder than everyone in the room. Shutting everyone up as they watch in anticipation of who he will choose.
You too are watching the only difference is your eyes haven’t left Eddie all night. His eyes scan the room, playfully looking at all the different girls. Finally his eyes land on yours, only stopping for a moment before moving on. Your heart is broken, begging for you to leave the room. In one swift moment he stands up and walks across the room, away from you. Of all the people he could kiss right now, he chooses the worst possible choice. His ex.
Can’t bring your self to watch, looking down at your cup. Your eyes finally leaving the man you’ve been secretly dating for months now. As people begin to cheer and laugh at the kiss shared between ex lovers. Eddie pulls away, viewers chanting for more.
“Nah I did my dare, I’m done. Who’s next?” He chuckles as he plops down onto the couch where he was previously sitting.
The game continues on like you didn’t just witness the man you’ve grown to care for, maybe even love kiss his ex. You’re a mixture of anger and sadness but self aware enough to know that this is your own doing. It’s all too much so without announcing your departure, you stand up and walk through the crowded room. You finish off your drink, throw away the evidence and make an attempt to leave the party.
Realizing that you’re entirely fucked, no way to leave. Your home too far to walk, your ride somewhere in the party with absolutely no intention of leaving any time soon. Annoyed because you only came with your friend because you knew Eddie would be here, hoping that you showing up would have ended differently.
A frustrated sigh leaves your mouth as you head outside anyways. Deciding to take a moment to breathe before heading back into the party. Thanking whoever’s listening when you walk out side to an empty porch. Sitting down on the steps, looking out at the silent road filled with unfamiliar houses. A few cars drive by as time passes.
You sit there staring and thinking about how you ended up here. Alone but having a secret relationship, with a man you’ve grown to love. Not even entirely sure if his feelings are mutual. You’ve been spending so much time with him. Most if not all instances leading to sex. Even when you two aren’t fucking, there’s a connection. You’ve spent more time at his trailer than your own home in that last month. He makes you so happy, quickly become the person you run to when you need anything. Doing everything a relationship entails without labeling it.
You’re broken out of your thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and that oh so familiar scent of cigarettes, weed and his cheap cologne you’ve grown to love. Your eyes stay down, looking at your fingers that fiddle with anxiety as he sits next to you.
“I was looking for you.” He speaks, facing you.
“I just needed some air.” You whisper, avoiding eye contact but Eddie knows better. Knows that you’re upset at the kiss and too stubborn to admit that.
“Why are you crying?” He asks, touching your chin and tugging at your face to look at him. You didn’t even realize you were crying, so you wipe away the tears. As a sad attempt to mask your pain. Mentally noting that you had too much to drink as you plaster a fake smile on your lips.
“I don’t know. It’s stupid. It’s probably cause I’m so drunk.” You force a laugh, wiping away at the remaining tears. Eddie doesn’t laugh and obviously doesn’t buy your excuse.
“Is this because I kissed her and not you?” He questions, and your smile fades as you nod your head in response.
“I didn’t want to kiss her. I just about puked as I did it. Was so close to blowing chunks all over her.” He admits, letting him self laugh at the thought causing you to feel a little better.
“I wanted to kiss you, only you. I just wasn’t sure if you would have been okay with that.. considering we’re just kinda hooking up or whatever this is. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with such a public display of affection.” He further explains, all anger you had dissipating as quickly as it came.
“I wouldn’t have been uncomfortable.” You respond.
“Also was afraid once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I’ve been watching you all night, staring at me with those eyes. Like you want me to drag you upstairs to an empty room and fuck you. Been walking around with a hard on all night, waiting till we can be alone.” He lets out a sheepish laugh, adjusting him self as your eyes are wide. You’ve been with a few partners before, none of which had such a dirty mouth as Eddie. Constantly out doing himself on the naughty words that leave his mouth.
“I was not staring at you like that.” You lie, grinning playfully swatting his shoulder. His laugh only grows, throwing his arm around you. You rest your tired drunken head, into his embrace.
“You’re a shit liar. Tell me what you want.”
“You. I don’t want to this.. us to be a secret anymore.” You admit, looking up at him while his arm is still stretched over your shoulder.
“Yeah?” He asks as he looks down on you.
“Yeah. I want to be the prettiest girl in the room.” You say with no filter. Admitting your drunken insecurities outloud, cringing as soon as it leaves your mouth.
“You are always the prettiest girl in any room. Only now you’ll be my prettiest girl, okay?” He says pressing a simple sweet kiss to your forehead. You nod in response, the biggest grin plastered on your face as if you weren’t sobbing moments ago.
“I think I need to fuck you so good that you forget about that kiss.” He whispers, his lips only a few inches away from yours.
“I think so too.” You say, before closing the distance. Pressing your lips to his, kissing him tenderly. His lips move with yours, as your hands find the back of his neck pulling him closer. Without thinking about it you slowly lower the two of you until he’s on top of you. Smiling and lettting out a giggle into the kiss as your back hits the cold wet wood of the porch.
“What’s so funny?” He pulls away, just enough to break the kiss.
“The way I was about ready to let you have your way with me outside on this porch. Can we go somewhere else?” You ask, looking up at him while he’s staring at your lips.
He rolls his eyes, getting up off you and standing up. Eddie reaches his hand out to which you take letting him help you up. He leads you back into the house, through the crowd of people. You’re too busy watching the man you’re with to notice the stares. Your man.
He leads you up some stairs, pushing through several people waiting for the restroom to a dark empty bedroom. He pushes you inside, following closely behind. While you take a few steps in he locks the door. When you turn to face him he’s already standing near you, looking down on you.
“How’d I get so lucky?” Eddie says as pulls you closer, his arms find their way to under your thighs. Picking you up in one swift motion.
“So fucking beautiful and all mine.” He gently sets you on the bed, never letting go. He’s on top of you, looking at you with so much more than just lust.
“All yours.” You respond, your hands already working on taking his shirt off.
“So eager.” He laughs, pulling it off the rest of the way.
You watch in anticipation as he undresses himself. Once he’s full naked and ready, he’s tugging at your pants. You lift your hips to help him as he slips them off. After a few moments you’re both naked and he’s dropping to his knees. His arms under your legs pulling you closer to the edge of the bed. His face a few inches away from your glistening cunt.
“I love the way you’re always so ready for me. Always so wet.” He murmurs, kissing your inner thigh.
Without hesitation his mouth dips into your folds, finding your most sensitive spot. Kissing it lightly before applying more pressure. Your hand find his hair, your hips tighten as your mouth lets sweet moans leave it. Letting him know he’s doing a good job. His tongue plays with your clit, as his finger slips into your hole. A loud moan leaves your mouth at the new sensation.
He continues, his motivation is the sinful sounds that come from your lips. He hears you say more somewhere in the mix of moans and curse words. So he adds another finger, pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. His mouth still tactfully working on your bud. He knows exactly what he’s doing and how to get you to your climax. The squeezing of your walls, lets him know you are close.
“Don’t stop.” You mutter pulling on his hair, as an attempt to pull him closer. Your hips moving with his face, nearly riding it in an attempt to finish. Eddie moves faster, just enough to cause you to come undone. Releasing all over his fingers. He slows his movements until they come to a halt as he pulls away.
“You always taste so good. Do you wanna taste?” He ask as he stands up, his two fingers finding their way to your mouth.You nod yes in response, opening your mouth enough so he can set them on your tongue. You taste yourself while never breaking eye contact even when he pulls them from your mouth.
“Fuck you’re such a good girl.” Eddie groans, pulling you back to the edge of the bed.
He raises one of your legs with one hand, the other hand aligning his cock to your hole. As he slowly, inch by inch fills you up he’s grabbing your other leg. Both of them in the air and supported by Eddie as he bottoms out inside of you. You whimper at the stretch and the feeling of being full. His hips start to move, slow motions as he fucks you. Painfully slow, you need more.
It’s like he can read your minds because before you can ask, he’s pounding into you at a brutal pace. You’re a moaning mess under him, your legs being pushed wider as he fucks you harder. The only sounds is your moans, his grunting and the sound of skin slapping. Your pussy is so wet it’s loud as he goes in and out of you. The muffled sounds of the party down stairs is barley heard theough the door. Everyone upstairs can most certainly hear but in the moment you couldn’t care less.
“Fuck, you take me so good. It’s like your pussy was made for my cock.” He stammers as he attempts to talk while sinking in and out of your wet, warm core.
He continues to speak his mind, letting all his thoughts flow out without a filter. His movements never stop, desperate to please you and please himself in the process. He’s pushing you deeper into the bed with every single thrust. Your hands find their way to his back, as he pressed himself closer to you. Kissing you hungrily as his hips continue to roll into you. Your hands scratch into his back, leaving marks in their tracks. He groans as a response, into your lips as you two kiss.
You start to feel that familiar coiling tension. Your fluttering walls let Eddie know that you’re coming close to your climax. He continues the same pace, pulling his face away from yours so he can watch you come undone. His favorite thing to witness and be the cause of. Your back arches as the tensions finally snaps. Your walks tighten as you come all over his cock.
Which is enough to push him over the edge, he pulls himself out leaving you empty. Without missing a beat he grips his dick, pumping it roughly. Allowing himself to finish on your stomach. When he’s done, he’s pressing a sweet breathy kiss to your lips before stumbling around in the dark to find something to clean up the mess he made.You lay there for a moment before feeling him wipe you clean. When he’s sure as he can be that he got it all, he throws it across the room.
“Eddie you can’t just..” Your own words cut off as you start to wonder whose room you two just fucked in.
“Whose room is this?” You question as he helps you get dressed again. As he pulls your shirt down over your head, he’s laughing.
“Jason Carvers.” He speaks, you look around for the first time and it’s most definitely a basketball players room.
“You didn’t.. we didn’t.” You reply, suddenly in a hurry to get dressed and back to the party. Moving his hands off you so he can get himself dressed.
“We did.” He grins, pulling his jeans on.
“Eddie..” You groan his name out but it doesn’t last long. His smile bringing you to smile.
Once you’re both dressed, he’s pressing another kiss to your lips. He grabs your hand and gently leads you out of the bedroom, praying that no one is sober enough to remember Eddie and you going into Jason’s room. Only to met with several pairs of eyes, not so silently watching and judging you. Eddie doesn’t seem to care, so you pretend to not notice. Following him back downstairs, to the couch where he was sat early.
“Eddie.. I want to go to yours. Can we leave?” You say stopping him before he can take a seat.
“Give me like thirty minutes to sober up. I’m not nearly as intoxicated as you are…” He teases.
“But I did drink a little bit. We can leave soon, okay?” He says as he sits down, pulling you into his lap. You have the cheesiest smile plastered on your lips. He’s acting as if it’s just another day, like this is a totally normal occurrence between the two of you. Like everyone in this room didn’t just watch him kiss his ex as a dare.
“Okay.” You nod, that smile still shining.
“You’re so cute and so drunk.” He whispers softly, his lips inches away from yours.
“And?” You question.
“And you’re so mine.” He says matter of factly.
“And?” You question again, eyes brows raised. Knowing what your tipsy self wants to hear. As you smile waiting, he looks lost but you see it click in his eyes before he rolls them.
“And you’re the prettiest girl in the room.” He lets out a soft chuckle before kissing you unapologetically. You kiss him back, drunkenly unaware of the eyes on you two and the gossip beginning to spread around the two of you. Nothing could ruin this moment for you.
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aphel1on · 3 months
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Dungeon Lords and the Human Need for Connection
When I came across these panels again the other day, it got me thinking about dungeon lord parallels again.
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...And I spiraled until I was writing my thesis statement about how All Four Dungeon Lords (Yes, Even Laios, Stop leaving him out of these discussions) Are Actually the Same.
Firstly (because on some level everything is about Thistle to me) I thought about how the lion could have very likely given Thistle a similar offer when his loved ones started losing their souls/rebelling/etc. And yet, there is no sign that Thistle ever accepted such an offer, nor any sign that he used magic to forcibly change people's opinions, the way Marcille briefly threatened the party with while she was dungeon lord:
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Instead, he ended up with the fucking dining table that drives me insane. Which probably means that either Thistle rejected the offer, or the lion sensed it wouldn't go over well and didn't even try it.
Making replicas of people doesn't seem to be an uncommon part of granting the dungeon lord's wishes. In his time, Mithrun actually took the demon up on it:
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(Not pictured; the infamous lamia-version of his love interest.)
What makes Mithrun different from Thistle and Marcille in this instance is that Thistle and Marcille both became dungeon lords for the sake of specific people. Both were motivated by the terror of losing their most important people, and both told themselves everything they did was for the sake of protecting those people.
Because they were motivated by genuine love, copies or mind manipulation were not palatable. I think Thistle even in the late stages of his madness probably would not find these to be acceptable solutions. No matter how twisted, possessive, and obsessive his love became under the dungeon's influence, it was still from the fear of losing those original, irreplaceable people that he was doing all this. Even as his relationship with Delgal and the other Melinis fell apart over the years... even as he was left with only their soulless bodies... he would still rather cling to whatever was left.
Perhaps on some level, Thistle recognized the same thing that kept Marcille from following through with her threats:
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Even in the state of endlessly chasing their desires as dungeon lords, they couldn't feel truly okay accomplishing it that way.
For Mithrun, meanwhile, the people in his fantasy world were a means to an end. It was all-encompassing insecurity and the pain of not being wanted that led him to become dungeon lord. His desire was not fixated on any specific people - it was broad enough and desperate enough that anyone could fulfill it. The thing is, Mithrun prior to becoming dungeon lord was by all accounts well-liked. But his emotional walls were up so high that not a single one of his admirers could make him feel known and cared for. The kind of crushing perfectionism he exhibited in that stage of his life often comes with a silent and equally crushing imposter syndrome. No one actually knew him, because Mithrun didn't let them, even though every aspect of his personality then was a desperate plea to be seen and liked. I think the sad truth is that, by the time he became dungeon lord, Mithrun didn't truly believe that happiness was something that could be found in other people. (It's telling that his wish was for a world in which he had never been discarded; perhaps for a world in which he never felt the need to put up those masks.)
In this respect, Mithrun is actually more alike to Laios than he is to Thistle and Marcille.
Laios was told again and again by the world that it was wrong to be who he was - that he was unlikeable when he acted the way that came naturally to him. The lion didn't bother asking Laios about replicas; those would be meaningless to him. Like Mithrun, Laios had lost all hope of being liked for who he was, but took it one step further: Laios had lost hope that he could find happiness in the human world entirely. At that point, all he wanted was an escape. To leave the pain of the human world behind and become someone, something, different. All he really needed in order to be tempted into it was the assurance that his friends would be safe.
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All four of these stories have a pretty obvious throughline when you think about it: the deep, intrinsic need for human connection and what happens to someone when that need cannot be met.
All four of them were starving for connection. All four of them experienced alienation and isolation that made them desperate enough to turn to the demon.
Marcille (a half-elf whose unstable aging left her without peers) and Thistle (raised as the only elf in a kingdom of humans) both formed intense attachments to the few people they did become close to, and went off the deep end from fear of losing them.
Mithrun and Laios were both rejected by others for aspects of themselves that were out of their control, and tried to cope by developing masks that left them unable to feel accepted by the people still in their lives.
...So it's fitting, then, that genuine human connection is also what saved all four of them in the end.
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(Thistle is a little arguable here; I personally don't think he died, but even if you do believe he died at the end of the manga- Yaad being able to connect and empathize with him is what gave him peace and solace in his final moments.)
Dungeon Meshi is about alienation and connection as much as it is about food and cycles of life. (Or more like, these themes are masterfully intertwined - food is used to represent love and connection over and over again. But that's a whole essay in and of itself!)
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letsbelonelytogetherr · 11 months
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I want to throw you against a wall, wrap your legs around my waist and kiss you. Kiss you until we have to stop to catch our breaths. I want you and only you. I want to take you on road trips that lead us to pulling over on the side of the road because we can’t keep our hands off each other. I want you and your flaws. I want your messy makeup from teary eyes as I hold you and talk to you about life. I want the 3am phone calls because you can’t sleep at night. I want to be yours and only yours. I want to taste all your cooking, even if it’s not good, even if it’s experimenting I’d have you cook every meal for the rest of my life. I want you. I want my trembling hands to grab your waist and dance with you in the middle of an empty room. I want to struggle on days when I can’t see you. I want to fight about meaningless stuff that will lead to meaningful sex. I want you. I want your hand to rest on my forearm as we enter a party, so I can reassure you that you are safe with me. I want to sing to you in the shower and have you shut me up with kisses because we both know I’m no singer. I want the ups and downs, the winter and summer days. I want you and only you
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versetas · 14 days
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anything for you;
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nsfw. mdni. f!reader. oral (fem! receiving)
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Boothill is absolutely depraved when it comes to you. There's no limit to what he'd endure or how far he'd bend to your whims, just to see that smile of yours that drives him to the brink of madness.
Tell him to sit, roll over, or bark like a dog—he’ll do it, and he won’t think twice. He’d give up his pride, kneel at your feet, and obey every word you utter without question.
Because it's not just about the commands—it’s about you. Everything is. Every little thing you do captivates him. The way you talk, the way your voice can turn from soft to teasing to commanding, making his systems overheat and short-circuit with desire. The way you look at him, the way you kiss him, like he’s the only person that matters in that moment. And the way you fuck him—God, the way you fuck him—it’s something he can never get enough of.
He’d do anything for you. And so when you leaned in close to whisper in his ear, your voice a sweet, sultry murmur as you told him how much you wanted him to eat you out, Boothill's reaction was immediate and intense. There was no hesitation in his response—no pause to weigh the consequences or assess the situation.
His focus narrowed entirely onto you.
Without a second thought, he pulled you away from the bustling party, where the Nameless had graciously invited you both to celebrate a recent victory of theirs. The music, the festivities, the clinking of glasses, and the ambient chatter—all of it faded into a distant, meaningless blur as he guided you towards the nearest bathroom.
“You’re so forkin’ needy,” he muttered as he shoved you into the cramped space, but there was no heat behind his words. He was more than happy to oblige. Your back met the cool, hard surface of the sink, and Boothill quickly maneuvered you onto its edge.
His knees hit the cold, hard tile with a thud, the sound barely registering over the pounding of his mechanical heartbeat. His eager hands roamed up your thighs, fingers curling around the hem of your sinful skirt before he yanked it upward in a swift, impatient motion.
And then he froze.
Nothing. No underwear.
Your bare, glistening pussy was there for him—waiting, exposed, dripping with anticipation. His breath hitched audibly in his throat, and for a brief moment, time seemed to stop. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight, couldn’t process anything other than the overwhelming need to touch, taste, and devour you. You had planned this—there was no doubt in his mind—and the realization only served to intensify the smoldering heat pooling in his gut.
“Like what you see?” you teased, looking down at him with a wicked grin. The question hung in the air, thick with promise and expectation, and all he could do was nod, dumbly, his mouth dry and his mind a haze of need. Words failed him in that moment. All the sharp retorts, all the cocky remarks he’d usually throw your way had vanished.
You smelled amazing, and he knew you’d taste even better. The anticipation had him practically trembling. With a low, approving growl, he grabbed your leg, hiking it over his broad shoulder. 
And then, his mouth was on you.
Hot, desperate, insatiable—his lips parted eagerly as his tongue plunged into your folds with an intensity that sent a shockwave of pleasure rippling through you. The heat of his mouth, combined with the way his tongue moved, slow at first, then quickening in rhythm, made you gasp. He devoured you like a man starved, groaning against your skin as your taste overwhelmed his senses.
Your fingers tangled into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you pulled him closer, needing more, needing everything. His hat fell to the floor, but neither of you noticed or cared. Your hips moved instinctively, grinding against his mouth, chasing the pleasure he was giving so freely. He groaned against your folds, the deep vibration only heightening your sensitivity, making your pulse race and your thighs tremble.
Every flick, every swirl of his tongue was deliberate, designed to drive you wild. He knew exactly where to focus, teasing your clit with quick, sharp strokes before switching to slow, languid circles that made your breath catch in your throat. Each motion was calculated, expertly so that you’d remain on the edge, dangling between unbearable need and the promise of release.
Boothill’s lips sealed around your clit, and he sucked gently before releasing it, only to dive back in with a renewed intensity. You gasped, your back arching in response, the knot of tension in your stomach tightening as his relentless attention pushed you closer to the brink. The wet, sinful sounds of his mouth working you over filled the cramped bathroom, mingling with your own heavy breaths and soft, breathless moans.
It was almost unbearable, and then Boothill's tongue darted down, plunging into your drenched hole. He buried his tongue deep inside you, drawing out your sweet nectar with hungry slurps. As he felt you flutter around his pink appendage, he couldn’t help but let out a deep, guttural moan directly against your sloppy pussy, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his skull.
“Oh, my god… Oh, fuck…” you gasped and writhed uncontrollably, but Boothill held you firmly in place, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you spread open for his insatiable mouth.
It didn’t take long for the pressure building inside you to reach its breaking point. With a final, shuddering moan, you felt the tight knot snap. The floodgates opened, and your climax surged through you with an explosive intensity. Your body convulsed, each spasm tightening around Boothill's insistent tongue. The release was so powerful that it felt almost otherworldly, your cries mingling with the muffled sounds of his mouth still working relentlessly against you.
He should stop—he knew it, even as your trembling hands tried weakly to push him away. But how could he stop when you tasted so good, when the heat of your climax was still fresh on his tongue?
“One more, sweet girl,” he groaned, his voice rough and gravelly as he finally pulled back, his mouth glistening with your juices. He didn't leave you empty for long, though. His hand slid down between your legs, two thick fingers slipping into your soaked, eager hole with an ease that made you gasp. His other hand kept your thigh draped over his shoulder, holding you open for him as his fingers curled inside you.
“Just gimme one more,” he growled, pumping his fingers into you with a rhythm that had you arching into his touch despite your overstimulation. He was ravenous, his mouth descending once again to latch onto your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue across the swollen bundle of nerves.
Boothill wanted to feel you come apart in his hands again, to watch you shatter one more time, your sweet pussy squeezing his fingers as you fell over the edge into bliss. The pressure inside you began to build again, and despite the overwhelming intensity, you couldn't help but chase it, your hips bucking up into his mouth as your second orgasm neared.
God, he was trying to kill you. You were sure of it.
The sensations surged, and then it happened. Without warning, another wave of ecstasy crashed over you, even more intense than the first. Your vision went hazy, and a strangled moan tore from your throat—raw, desperate—more a cry than a sound. Your pussy clamped down on Boothill's fingers, gripping him so tight it almost felt as if you were trying to keep him there, to hold onto the pleasure for just a little longer.
Boothill responded with a deep, satisfied groan, his breath hot and heavy against your flushed skin. “That’s it… That’s my good girl,” he praised, pulling back slightly, just enough to look at you, to take in the sight of your completely fucked-out state. His eyes were dark with satisfaction, and he watched as you rode out the last remnants of your high.
Finally, he slipped his fingers from you, causing a soft, shuddering sigh to escape your lips. Your head fell back against the mirror, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat still coursing through your veins. He straightened, rising to his feet, but not before licking his fingers clean with a deliberate, slow swipe of his tongue, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.
“You liked that, darlin’?” he asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction and a hint of smugness. The question was rhetorical, more of a statement wrapped in a tease than an actual inquiry, but you nodded nonetheless.
And then, as if on cue, you gave him that smile—the one that always drove him mad, the one that held a power over him that nothing else could compare to.
In that perfect, fleeting moment, Boothill knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he really would give anything, do anything, just to see it again.
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becomingmina · 10 months
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FUCKBOY MIN. little series w/ LEEKNOW
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18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
pairing: lee minho x female reader genre + warnings: previous fkbuddy relationship, angst, smut mdni!, min is mean, oral (f recieving), semi-public (empty bathroom), hyunjin is a character wc: 3.4k mina's note: Minho is kinda mean. The way I would have done anything for him just so he can like me back. ❤️‍🩹
other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.
series chapter ➵ part two, part three ending one
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"Isn't that Y/N?" Han asked looking over the older boy's shoulder.
Minho turns his head around and sees you amongst the crowd - of the very grand party he dreads. He feels himself tense up at the sight of you, he hasn’t seen you in a while and you looked as beautiful as ever. He can feel the corner of his lip turn up as he replays memories of him and you, and that’s when he realises he misses you.
But the feeling soon fades when he notices you’re with a guy. Only a month and you already found yourself a guy? Loud sweet giggles falls from your lips as you grip the man's biceps, laughing about nothings. He scoffs to himself as he recognises the man.
“Out of all the boys in this fucking city, she chose fucking Hwang Hyunjin?” Minho blurted, he was mad. “She’s got a type. Fuckboys,” he turns back around to Han and raises his brows, as if asking for him to agree with the statement.
“You’re not going to do anything right hyung?” Han nervously asked, knowing his hyung will definitely be doing something.
“She just looks too happy, Han. I gotta ruin it for her. Especially when it’s Hwang Hyunjin she’s fucking with,” Minho says before downing the rest of his drink and ditching the younger boy.
Minho met you a couple months ago at one of his mother’s grand get-together. He only came to these events in hopes to find a hook up or a quick fuck, he was never here to support his mom on what ever event-job-work-promotion she got herself into. He probably got with half of the girls who attended these parties with their rich parents.
“Imagine what your daddy would think of his sweet innocent daughter completely coming vulnerable underneath some guy she just met?” Minho would often whisper in their ears as he thrusts into them. He would say anything to get them to sleep with him then ghost them the next day, leaving them restless.
However you weren’t like any of these girls to him, well at first. Minho was addicted to you, he couldn’t put his finger on it but he kept coming back to you. After seeing you a few times, he proposed for you both to be fwb and you agreed, because to be very honest, Minho was hot and he was a great fuck, the best if you can say. Also, something about him felt very secure to you. Meaningless fucks turned into lingering kisses, then turned into secrets date nights. You both shared such gentle and heartfelt moments, like cooking dinner together to holding hands randomly. Minho became so romantic with you secretly, but he never sincerely voiced it. You fell for him. You wanted to do anything for him in hopes that he liked you back. You became obsessive, got restless, jealous that there was many other girls hovering around him. You wanted him to yourself, and it got to the point where you had pull him away one night, letting your tears run down your face as you admitted your feelings to him, intoxicated. And maybe because he never dealt with such heavy feelings and high emotions like this before that, he turned on you.
“Y/N, you're just like the other girls.. Maybe worse. Easy. Clingy. I would never like you back.. Are you crazy?" You couldn't believe it, he abandoned you. Minho ended up treating you just like all the other girls.
Now the other half of the girls that Minho didn’t hooked up with were probably sorted by Hwang Hyunjin. The city’s heartbreaker. Classic story of two best friends that now hates each other. Minho and Hyunjin grew up together, basically brothers due to their mother’s close friendship. But when the boys got older they grew apart. Times that was supposed be spent together catching up on a tv show or playing basketball turned into time spent with a girl trying to get her to undress underneath them. It was now a competition to see who played the most girls. Oh how toxic.
So when Minho saw you in the ballroom with Hyunjin, he assumed you two were sleeping together. Minho needed to get you alone before the end of the night.
He needed to ruin you, in order to ruin it for Hyunjin aswell.
“Should I get you another drink?” The long haired boy asked realising the glass in your hand was almost empty.
“I was actually eyeing the orange slices over there-” you pointed out, gesturing to the massive grazing table.
“-Mimosa?” He was quick to respond, tone so sweet and cheeky.
“You know me too well Hyunjin,” you smiled admiringly up at the boy.
“I’ll get the champagne, you get the oranges and we meet back here then,” he says, hints of his dorky smile showing.
You were finally alone.
"Hey baby," Minho speaks from behind you, his voice so deep, hands find their way to your hips sending chills down your spine. He used to call you that all the time, and your heart never fails to beat out of your chest from it.
Lee Minho. Why the hell was he behind you? Shouldn’t he breaking some poor innocent girl’s heart?
“I missed you.” You stood still at his words, unable to move.
No not this again.
"Minho, go away," you finally spoke, building up a wall that you know isn’t going to stay up.
"No. I need to talk to you baby. I missed you," he made sure you heard him, his hands now made its way higher to your waist. "You look so pretty tonight..” one hand rests on your waist as the other one slowly travels to your thigh. “I missed your pretty little body so much, baby,” his lips were so close to your face, the proximity is so familiar, so safe that you wanted to turn and press your lips on his. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Minho had you under his spell, his presence was all it took for you to consider him again. You lean back, head taking its place on his shoulder as your back pressed on his chest. You tilt your head up slowly, finally looking at him. Oh, he was so beautiful as ever. His cute little bunny teeth showing from his agape mouth, his pretty sparkly eyes looking down at you, and his sharp nose, which you remember you use to peck so much. You missed him so much, you couldn’t resist it anymore.
“Min.” You say in the most vulnerable tone ever, gripping his forearm, giving in to him. He smiles at the nickname, the nickname only you were allowed to call him by.
"Come with me," and with that he yanked your arm dragging you through the crowd, for sure going to leave Hyunjin confused when he comes back.
Minho pulled you into an empty bathroom and pressed you against the door after locking it, instantly smashing his lips on to yours. His lips feels so soft against yours and your body hasn’t felt this rush of adrenaline in a while that you were going insane. Already feeling yourself start to go wet, you were so bothered, you needed more. Your teeth clashes as he practically devours you, his hand hoists one of your leg over his hip.
“Need you on the counter, bunny,” he murmured in between the kisses, there goes the nicknames again. He carries you to the counter, helping you up, your legs immediately spreading for him to slot himself in between. His hand slips underneath your dress, brushing against your clothed core.
“Already so wet for me,” he smirks, feeling the patch on your panties. “Can I?” He asked tapping his finger twice on your core. You nodded throwing your head back and he accepts the invitation to suck on your neck, leaving marks. Minho’s fingers pulls your panties to the side, his pointer finger finally runs through your folds. You were so warm, so sticky already that Minho let out a moan into your neck, unable to control the pleasure he was also having. You jolted forward when his fingers finally entered you pumping you slowly, causing him to let out an airy scoff. “Need to taste, let me taste?” You nod again knowing every time Minho ate you out, he would reward you with his dick for being such a good girl. You wanted that again.
“Need to hear you say it, Y/N,” he stops his movements, to brush your hair out of your face adoring your features.
Verbal consent has always been a big thing to Minho. He has so much control when the other person expresses what they want. It feeds into his already massive ego seeing the other person submit to him, makes him feel like he was in winning. And right there and then when he asked that question he wanted you to submit, so he can feel bigger than Hyunjin.
“Yes, please Min. I want it,” you gave him exactly what he wanted. You missed this. You missed his body and how he fucked you, how he made love to you. You miss Minho. You miss how sweet and gentle he was. How he would text you if you got home okay after spending the entire day with him. How innocent and lovely he can be talking about his cats, his hobbies. You wanted him to like you back, to want you back that you were willing to let him do anything to you, to use you.
“You’re still so good baby,” he buttered you up pressing a kiss your lips once more, letting it linger on a bit before dropping to his knees. He bundles your thin long dress around your waist, pulling down your soaked panties and burying them deep in his pocket. He is met with your pretty pussy, glistening with arousal. Your scent takes him by surprise and he goes numb. Oh, how he remembers it all so well, he would spend forever in between your legs on a Sunday afternoon. He parts your thighs and moves his face closer to your cunt, finally sliding his tongue in your slit. You still taste as sweet as ever too and that was all it took for Minho to devour you, to eat you out like a starved man. You lean back on one hand and the other one finds its place in Minho’s hair keeping it there. He was so good with his tongue, alternating between giving fat stripes, kitten licks and harsh sucks on your clit. Minho was getting you closer to your orgasm. Moans and whimpers falls from your lips as you allow him to hear how good he is making you feel.
“Feels good baby? You still taste so sweet, I just know you’re still going to be so tight." he removes himself from you just so he can glance up at your fucked out state nodding to every word he was saying.
“Want to- to cum,” you needed to cum, you were on the verge of tears feeling the tension in your stomach start to fade..
“Hm?”
“Please, I want to cum Min,” you restates and he dives back down. He grips your thighs as he makes out with your pussy, his nose hitting your clit every now and then to get you going again. Minho picks up his pace, moving his kisses to your clit where he then sucks harshly earning a sharp moan from you. You jolt forward, thighs closing around him, throwing your head back as you spray Minho with your sweet release. You feel him smirk against your pussy, his mouth and chin coated in your arousal. That wasn’t enough for you, you wanted more. Your hand pushes his head further into your cunt as you grind down in his nose, riding out your high. Minho lets you use him, his tongue still overstimulating you until you were satisfied. Frankly, he found it hot how after just one taste you go feral for him.
He licks his lips cleaning himself off as he gets up from your legs, helping you pull down your dress. He cages you between his hands that are now resting on the counter, you don’t move. Just staring up at him, he examines your features again, taking all everything that he used to adore. Something about this moment just feels so innocent to both of you, that Minho can help but give you small giggles, his lips turning into a smile. You mirror it in return, sitting in silence as you both recalls the old times.
A sudden buzz of your phone causes you both to snap out of the sweet moment, heads turning to the device next to you on the counter. And Minho grows hot, his reputation overshadowed his feelings for you the second he saw Hyunjin’s name pop up. He lets out a scoff, remembering why he got you in this bathroom in the first place.
Minho's leans in slowly, one hand still gripping on the counter but the other comes up close to your face. Your phone forgotten now. You think he's about to kiss you but he dodges your lips, making his way by your ears as he lets out an airy chuckle, he sounded so cocky you were taken by surprise at his sudden change in demeanour.
"God, Y/N. You're still so easy," His tone deep aiming an attack on you as he reaches for the paper towel dispenser behind your head. He pulls out a towel throwing it to you, to clean yourself up. "Still so desperate for me". It broke you. He has never done this to you before, usually he'll be on after care and cleaning up. Your head snaps to his face, taking in his smirk and dark eyes. You swallow hard, a salty taste coat your tongue and you realise you're trying you best to not cry.
“Are you this desperate for Hyunjin too?” you furrowed your brows together in response. What?
“Hmm?” You asked confused.
“You got a type Y/N, you’re so pathetic.” He continues, the vibrating of your phone doesn't help but fuels his anger.
"Min, what do you mean?" It was clear to you that Minho and Hyunjin weren’t the best of friends when you meet with Minho. But that night when Minho abandoned you, Hyunjin witnessed the whole thing. He help you get up, covering you with his his coat, wiping away your tears and took you home.
"What are you doing here with Hwang Hyunjin?" he finally asked. But you don't respond, instead you hop off the counter, unable to control how hurt you are from his previous act. Your eyes sparkle, cheeks pink, lips trembling. He takes in your reaction, making him feel a bit guilty as he has seen this all before. The night you admitted your feelings.
"You guys fucking?" this time his tone and eyes soften, it was like he needed to confirm it first before continuing to take out his anger and tension on you. You reach for your phone but he snatches before you could, declining the call sliding it across the counter where you can’t reach.
"Does he fuck you as good as I do?" He moves in closer, your noses barely touching. "He treats you better than I do?" You stay quiet.
You didn't know what to answer. Do you lie? Do you teel the truth? Regardless at the end of this Minho isn't coming back to you right? You realised the moment he called you pathetic.
He moves in to kiss your cheek, a gentle peck. Your heart starts to race even more, unable to look him in the eyes. One hand comes up to hold your face, thumb rubbing against your cheeks. "Come on baby, tell me and I'll give you what you want," his lips comes in contact with yours. You melt into the kiss, your hands grasping the waist band of his trousers. Snap out of it, Y/N. "Hmm, you going to be good and tell me? He kisses you better than I do?" He kisses you harder, helping you back up the counter. He takes back his initial position, in-between your legs. Minho moves his kisses down your neck as his hands advances to your shoulders, pulling the thin straps down exposing your chest. He gulps at the sight and latching his lips onto your boob, his hand groping the other one. You tired your hardest not to give in but you cant, the feeling is too strong. You whimper at the contact, your hand palming his hard on through his pants. It was the first time you touched him that night and Minho throws his head back, unable to control the sexual frustration.
"Fuck- see what you do to me, baby?" He coos. You undo his belt, pulling his trousers along with his boxer down, meeting with his big cock. He was already so red, a bead of pre cum already spilling frim his tip. You grab the base of his cock, holding it firmly giving him a gentle pump. Just like the way you always did. Fuck Y/N I missed this so much. Minho finds himself addicted again as he shuts his eyes, a little moan slipping from his lip. You continue to pump him and he tries his best not to give into you but your hands felt so good, he could cum like this. You lean forward attaching your lips to his neck, leaving marks just like he did to you before. “Want you Min,” you whimper on his skin. You needed to feel him inside you.
"Answer me first, Y/N." He was getting irritated at your lack of answer. God, why are you so caught up on this Minho! Your phone rings again, the buzzing noises incites his thought, and that was the breaking point for him. Hwang Hyunjin. Only Y/N would want such a pathetic man like him. "I'm not fucking you if you’re dirty Y/N," he says and you halt your movements, completely removed yourself from him.
"What?" You replied. Minho is now faced with your confused face.
"You're so desperate Y/N. I can’t believe you’re with Hyunjin right after I left you? You're so dirty for that,” Minho repeat himself moving closer to you to provoke you, he was sure you had given yourself to the other bloke. Your lack of answer confirmed it for him too. “Did you fuck Hyunjin?" But he was determined to hear it.
You took a deep sigh, and all the names and remarks he had made to you tonight flooded your head. You’re hurt. God, Y/N you are pathetic. You wanted to turn this on him but you couldn’t. Regardless of what you answer, you couldn’t win and Minho won’t be yours.
"No I didn't because I love you, Min," you confessed, pushing him off you. You proceed to pull up your dress and jump off the counter. You needed to leave him.
You brushed past him retrieving your phone and bag, unlocking the door and walking out.
Leaving him the way he left you, abandoned. Although it was your feelings that he disregarded, leaving him while he was hard and sexually unsatisfied like this would have hurt the same for a fuck boy like him.
But Minho wasn’t hurt by that. Your words was the thing that stung him. Shes loves me? No one had ever done this to Minho, he didn't know what to do. Such a similar feeling to how you felt - when he ghosted you and just now.
His words still played in your mind, they're still lingering around you. You wanted to sob, cry your heart out but you couldn't just yet, only allowing the tears to build in your eyes. Did you really just let him treat you like that? You chose pleasure again instead of protecting your already broken heart. Minho was right, you are fucking easy. You see the exit through your blurry vision and you rushed to it, pushing into the many people that was just crowding around. Just as you're about to leave a hand pulls you back.
"Y/n, you okay?" You turned around to meet with Hyunjin, and you couldn't help but burry your face in his chest as you let your tears fall.
"I hate him," you cried loudly, your whole body shaking and your legs go numb. Hyunjin hugs you, both arms wrapped around you tightly as he lets you become completely vulnerable. You were safe with him.
"I know.. Let's go home."
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Palestine is Ruining the Left
I've taken this from Reddit because I've found it an interesting read, I did not write this myself, a user named u/ u/TooLittleNuance did. Feel free to reply and engage in converation.
I'm an Israeli-American leftist who has been active in American and Israeli politics for a number of years now. I have always advocated for human rights, equity, and self-determination for Palestinians who are oppressed(to different extents) under Israel, a nation that commits itself to Jewish domination of institutions. I always voted and campaigned for progressive Democrats and I assisted with the Israeli Meretz party from abroad. This is why I think the current Palestinian-sympathetic movement is ruining the left:
Abandonment of Pragmatism - Just like the 2020 George Floyd protests("Defund the Police"), the Western left has completely embraced a suicidal strategy of idealistic radicalism. Many of those on the left insist the solution to the conflict is a one-state solution consisting of Palestine "from the River to the Sea". Unfortunately, they've appropriated the Palestinian mythology in their ambitions to magically destroy Israel and the ideology of Zionism by BDS somehow or supporting Palestinian "armed struggle". It doesn't take a lot of thought to see how both of those methods are incredibly ineffective and immoral to advocate for and implement. So, instead of a pragmatic approach, like empowering the Israeli left through donations and advocacy, supporting a reasonable solution(two-state or one-state under Israel), or calling for the ultimate humanitarian end to the war of a unilateral Hamas surrender, the Western left insists on a dream scenario that will never happen. This is the most egregious behavior of the left and it's their most common mistake(i.e. Vietnam). This is due to the fact that Palestinians, especially in Gaza, are suffering under disproportionate Israeli force with no Western movement to realistically end it. In fact, these Western leftists, due to these tactics, are assisting in empowering and legitimizing the far-right of Israel. They are the perfect strawman to turn people off to the left in Israel, which, in turn, results in a lengthened Palestinian suffering.
Maximalism - There's a tendency on the left to outcompete each other in radicalism. It's not catchy or sexy to say "The war tactics that Israel uses are disproportionate and don't consider enough of the humanitarian cost", it has to be "genocide" or "ethnic cleansing" in order to provoke an emotional reaction from uneducated Westerners. It's not "the security policy of Hafradah has resulted in reduced human rights of Palestinians compared to Israelis", it has to be "Apartheid"(with the only legal precedent being South Africa). These maximalist statements immeasurably hurt the movement for true progress on Palestinian human rights. It results in a boy-who-cried-wolf situation: If Israel decides to transfer the entire Gazan population to the Sinai, what is that called? A "genocide"? Due to the present labeling of the war, nobody will believe it. What if Israel permanently transfers or kills 100,000 Palestinian civilians? 200,000? 1 million? What will that be called? How can it get worse than "genocide"? This Maximalist rhetoric is not only inaccurate, but it's incredibly damaging to describe the proportionate extent of Palestinian suffering, which is vital to any movement that faithfully advocates for an upliftment of Palestinian life and identity.
Normalization of Bigotry - Explicit or latent Jew-Hatred is being increasingly embraced by radical sections of the Western left. Tropes such as "Zionist"(a euphemism for "Jew" for many) control of governments or blood libel. Wishing "Death to Zionists" or equating them with Nazis is, in most cases, latent Jew-Hatred. Regardless of your thoughts on the definition of Zionism(there is no definition, it is a meaningless term), it's clear that many believe that "Zionists" are just uppity Jews. Of course, this is genuinely believed by a small portion of the left. However, a substantial part of Western leftists has repeatedly failed to condemn this Jew-Hatred and to stop mirroring the language of these latent or explicit Jew-Haters. This is 1000x worse in the case of Israelis. For Western leftists, it's normal to call Israelis "colonizers", "demons", "rapists", and "child-murderers" on their social media without repercussion or introspective irony. As somebody belonging to the Israeli nationality, I have been desensitized to the insane amount of bigotry from those that I formerly respected. However, many Israelis or Jews aren't as depersonalized as I am, and they definitely take the bigotry to heart. What do you think results from that? Usually, a vote for Likud(Netanyahu's Party) or a donation to AIPAC. Thus, propagating a cycle of bigotry and continuing the suffering of Palestinians.
Propaganda - This war has sparked the largest disinformation campaigns in human history. Multiple state entities (Israel, U.S., Russia, Iran, Qatar) and numerous private entities are pumping out loads of propaganda in order to manipulate uneducated Westerners into supporting their interests. Since October 7th, known Russian disinformation propagator, Jackson Hinkle, has skyrocketed in followers due to his ability to mislead Western leftists on the war. I have seen an unfathomable amount of reposts from Al Jazeera and MiddleEastEye, known Qatari state propaganda and major propagates of misinformation. I have always appreciated the value of institutional skepticism that embodied many of the historical and academic leftist leaders. However, right now, those values are completely thrown out in favor of Russia or Iran's geopolitical advocacy of "everything the West does is bad". The previous three points of behavior are certainly emboldened by the paid disinformation and bots that propagate anti-Western sentiment to destabilize Western democracy. Meanwhile, the basic interests of Palestinian civilians are left unregarded while these state operatives kill their only lifeline.
Reactionary Resurgence - One of the main factors that attracted me to the left was its rejection of reactionary ideology(the establishment of traditional institutions from the past). For Israelis and Palestinians, reactionary rhetoric is normalized and encouraged in many cases. However, this reactionary ideology that has plagued those who share my nationality has spread to Western leftists in their advocacy for Palestine. Western leftists constantly appropriate the far-right and reactionary talking points that many radicalized Palestinians spout. An example would be the insistence on the exclusive indigeneity of Palestine from the River to the Sea, which abandons the progressive values of anti-nationalism and intersectionality. Another example would be the appropriation of Palestinian Martyrdom, in which many of them embraced the idea that human life can be inherently reduced to a political or national cause by their manner of death. This is a clear rejection of the values of individualism, secularism, and anti-nationalism.
Historical Negligence - Those who are even a little bit informed on the Israel-Palestinian Conflict understand that the conflict is too complex to be treated as a soccer match of Israelis vs. Palestinians. Many Israeli and Palestinian leaders set roadblocks to an equitable peace, while many others progressed the conflict to a more positive state. Even more than the historical complexity of this conflict, evaluating the moral complexity requires a graduate degree in a relevant field with hundreds of hours of research. I typically advise not to trust anybody's commentary of the conflict with any less credibility than the previous sentence. However, the Western left has instead decided to follow the historical and moral analysis of demagogues. There's constantly factually wrong or misleading historical information on many of these Palestinian-sympathetic accounts. An example is the map of a "disappearing Palestine" that millions have reposted, a blatantly misleading map meant to depict "Zionist colonization", meanwhile, neglecting the historical borders of the conflict. There are many other forms of historical negligence that they commonly employ that are extremely damaging for understanding the conflict.
In conclusion, Western leftists are keeping up with the Western traditions of white saviorism and interfering with this particular trendy foreign conflict. I could have written a few more grievances that I have of the Western left(including the embracement of far-right Islamist groups) but I wanted to keep the post relatively short. In several months, Western leftists will forget about the Gazans suffering under the disproportional force of the IDF. Nobody will self-criticize the ideas or tactics that they engaged in, meanwhile, the Israeli left-wing and reliable non-Hamas Palestinian advocacy organizations are left in the dust by an ineffective white-savior-esqe Western movement. Not only that but due to all of these factors making the left look like lunatics, Biden and the Democrats are being affected in the polling, which may result in Trump being elected, a terrible outcome for Palestinians.
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forcemeanakin · 1 year
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ᴠɪᴄᴛᴏʀɪᴀ'ꜱ ꜱᴇᴄʀᴇᴛ ᴀɴɢᴇʟ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʜᴀʏᴅᴇɴ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛᴇɴꜱᴇɴ
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Okay so this is a alternate of @hanasnx starlet!reader but with my own little twist because I just love the scenery and the glamour of the shows <3 So I present to you: VSangel!reader x Hayden Christensen (let's ignore the fact that I've been working on some of these scenarios for YEARS now).
This is hella long and nsfw, so beware. 3K.
Previous inspo: Link
BACKGROUND:
Hayden has probably seen you in a big billboard before, maybe an ad on TV, but didn't remember your name. He thought you were hot though. A pretty little thing that was probably out of an old man's league anyway.
You are in your 20's, so you grew up with the Star Wars prequels and without a doubt Anakin Skywalker was your childhood crush. Posters on your walls, watching other movies Hayden was in just to see him. Most of your classmates probably made fun of your Star Wars obsession because you were only into it because of the hot guy in Revenge Of the Sith. How wrong they were!! It was also because of the hot guy in AOTC!
Also you're like a total SW geek, but we'll talk about it later.
THE BEGINING: How did you two meet?
Considering that both of you are from different areas of show business, you had to meet in a common ground. I don't see Hayden going to a fashion show before you (and then that's the only place paparazzi can catch him for sure <3). So after a lot of thought, you two met at an Award show (my mind goes automatically to the Tiff Tribute Awards). Or more specifically, the after party.
I picture Hayden saying hello to a couple of people he knows before heading to the bar and sticking around there, just sipping on his drink and greeting whoever comes along to shake his hand and pat his shoulder.
You already saw him back on the red carpet, making your best effort to not get your drooling face captured by a paparazzi. Your stunning dress and detailed makeup made you look like a million dollars !!!
And he noticed. Fuck, did he notice.
Walking by the bar, after pep talking yourself into talking to him for like half an hour, you pulled up right beside him to order yourself a drink. A cosmo or some shit like that. Very fancy and pretty, like you.
He was hypnotized by you the second he saw you up close. Actually, the second he saw your ass swinging his way.
That was it. You two were done for the moment your gazes crossed.
He made the first move, saying a polite "hey" and offering to call the bartender for you.
You were batting your eyelashes, grazing his biceps with your long nails and giving those "fuck me eyes" that worked every time. Someone so much more mature and wise, you didn't think he would want you for something besides fucking, so why did it matter if you were a bit sluttier than you were used to?
But you started talking and it was an actual good conversation. He seemed interested in getting to know you and his jokes actually made you laugh. He was all smooth with his compliments and subtle stares at your dress.
I feel like he would give you a nickname from the very first night. Something related to your attire or the sparkle of your eyes, accentuated by the glittery eye shadow.
It would be a downright shame to let that amazing chemistry go to waste for a meaningless hookup. Luckily he didn't let that happen.
Like a true gentleman, he walked you to your car, using the back door and called it a night. Not before asking for your number and teasing a goodnight kiss.
The next day, while you were getting ready to shoot a campaign, you receive a text from an unknown number, but you immediately knew who it was.
"Hey, starlight." There's a whole other version of this with them meeting over a smoke break, but I know that's not everyone's cup of tea.
BEFORE AND AFTER YOU:
Okay so let's set some things straight. Hayden's not a public guy. he hates having his private life printed on newspapers and he's not a fan of social media. At all. Heck. he doesn't even like to leave his house on weekends. But after you? He had to get used to it. You're this generation very own Gisele Bündchen. You're everywhere. You're everything. You are the fashion world. So paps are very much included in every moment of your life.
BEFORE GOING PUBLIC:
You tried to keep it hidden as much as you could. It was not very hard with you traveling almost every day and him living in LA, at his new house. And whenever he could, he escaped to his own little paradise in Canada.
So texting was basically everything you could do.
He even learned new lingo just to keep up with you :)
But you both craved more, so the next time you were in LA, you were going to grab dinner.
The damn paps got a few pictures of you and that's when the rumors started.
At first not many people recognized him, mainly because the pictures were taken from behind him, but the curls and the outfit ratted him out to a few observant fans.
But media didn't believe them, I mean, why? And the selected group that decided to run with that narrative used headliners like: "how the fuck did the awkward guy from SW pulled y/n's ass?"
After weeks of trying to be low-key for his sake: going on coffee runs using his caps and sunglasses so people wouldn't recognize you, having dinner dates at his house and/or choosing far away locations to stroll with a bit of privacy; you gave up. Your already public life was catching up with you two. So it was better to ride the wave than to escape it and fail in the process.
BUT BEFORE ABSOLUTELY GOING PUBLIC, I love the idea that interviewers were trying to drag the information out of you. Maybe at a red carpet or at an interview with a digital magazine, people would throw you some questions to see if you bite the bait:
"So, Y/n, who's your favorite SW character?"
And you would grin knowingly but never backing down. Your answer would vary from Obi-Wan Kenobi (to mess with Hayden) or R2 when you felt like sharing some of your SW passion.
But right before you two decide to go full-on public, you decide to mess with them, for your own entertainment: "You know, I do have a soft spot for Darth Vader."
PEOPLE GASPED AT THAT CRUMB OF CONFIRMATION.
GOING PUBLIC:
It was at a red carpet
You two went in separate cars
Hayden walked first, having his picture staken and signing autographs while you barely arrived at the event
The second you entered the carpet the cameras went off on you, total focus on getting pics of your designer dress
You were posing like an absolute goddess, answering some questions with wit, trying to spot your boyfriend with the corner of your eye
Finally you locked eyes and he raised a dubious eyebrow, like saying: "Are we seriously doing this?"
And you gave him a bright beam, stretching your arm to him as he walked to you, taking your hand and kissing the inner side of your forearm before placing it on his shoulder. Fingers dropping to your waist and pulling you to him while you laugh, his mouth lowering to your ear to whisper: "You always get your way, huh?"
You chuckled and kissed his cheek, you two turning to face the cameras, just for a few seconds before moving on.
DATING:
I'll not get into the heavy details of how you two managed to make your relationship work, with your traveling and photoshoots, because fuck that. I'll only say that there was a lot of sexting and he was a fucking natural at it. Mile high club as well.
You two would still try to remain unrecognizable by the paparazzis but more chill this time.
That meant having more pictures of you on your candle lit dinners or your fun Sunday mornings in the park out there.
I JUST KNOW THERE'S A PICTURE OF YOU KISSING IN THE PARK. YOU ON YOUR TIPPY TOES WHILE YOUR ARMS ARE AROUND HIS NECK. BIG GRIN ON YOUR FACES, LIKE IT WAS TAKEN SECONDS BEFORE YOUR LIPS MADE CONTACT.
The media would still release some mean headliners but thanks to the dilf culture cultivated in social media, some were actually rooting for you. Oh, and fans were torn between you; hating you because you were clearly fucking him and loving you because since your relationship started, you gave them more Hayden content.
The SW questions were constant in the interviews and talk shows, to the point that you were always brought some type of SW merch: a Grogu plush, a kids lightsaber, a little R2 replica. Whatever it was, it was always pulled whenever the question about you and Hayden was brought up.
You still kept answering "Obi-Wan" with a laugh and no additional information. "He has the high ground." You shrugged your shoulders, shaking your head with a cheeky smile.
Later in bed, when Hayden was giving you your daily dose of healthy cum :))) pounding into you with an admirable expertise, he whispers: "Who has the high ground now, baby?"
CLICHE BUT LET ME HAVE THIS
You never revealed to Hayden that he was your childhood crush, I mean, you could have mentioned it the first night but you didn't want to approach him like a fan. And then you didn't want to look psycho so you just let it be. And now it was too late.
But then
In the middle of an interview, a girl that actually gained your honest trust, asked you the anticipated question:
"How does it feel to date Anakin Skywalker?"
And... (the next bit was written by Indy during a brainstorm and I just wanted to share the exact words <3)
"in the interview you’re visibly nervous, rubbing on your knee, leaning forward, adopting a slackened posture. “yeah..” big grin, “he was actually my childhood crush.” “no!” the interviewer says in awe. “yeah! yeah,” you kinda laugh and cover your mouth. “i didn’t tell him. is that bad?” you put your nail in your teeth to fidget, putting on a little lovable twist to your face"
And then he sees the interview and he shots you an immediate text with the link like: "Oh???"
You know what you'll come home to
He's sitting on his usual chair, reading a book when he hears the door creak. You showed up with a shy smile, his arms opening up to let you crawl on his lap. Knowing that he'll bring it up, you hide on his neck, blush all over your cheeks. Hayden is caressing your thigh up and down, while he hugs you with his other arm and snorts: “did you keep that from me on purpose?” with a little swat on your ass (Indy, 2023).
THE REACTION OF PEOPLE ON SOCIAL MEDIA AFTER THE INTERVIEW. you cackle at the comments: "Not Y/n admitting she is dating her childhood crush!! She's one of us!!!" “HE WAS NOT” “bro no 😭 i thought she was single” “darth vader. you win again” (Indy, 2023).
Also dragging you to hockey games <333 you start to love the sport because of him but at first you didn't understand shit
He laughed at your reaction when you saw the first fight in the rink
"Do they just... start beating each other up and the ref let them?" You winced exaggeratedly.
"Yup." He laughs, drinking a sip of his beer.
KISS CAM KISS CAM KISS CAM
Also opening the car door for you after a date night, protecting you from the paps???? That's a head canon I'll take from starlet!reader and apply it here because YES YES YES
FASHION SHOWS AND SOCIAL MEDIA
ofc he goes to your fashion shows !!!!! front line baby !!!!!!!! And he is so fucking proud of his beautiful girlfriend.
So motherfucking supportive it hurts.
He comes home and peppers kisses all over your face, praising you for a job well done.
"I would buy all the clothes you sell, baby"
Or if you wore something he particularly liked, he would be desperate to get home and show you just how much he loved your teeny tiny dress on the runway.
He even learned how to dress appropriately to match with your outfits. NEVER LEAVING THE CAPS BEHIND OFC !! But his personal style improved so much, we are proud of him :)
ALSO whenever he is out and spots an ad of yours he takes a picture of it and sends it to you. Maybe with a little heart or smile, or a little text like: "so proud of you baby." Sometimes he takes a selfie with the campaign!!! such a dad selfie, his head tilted back and kind of blurry because he's trying to get the right angle !!!!
also social media with him !!!! again, he doesn't have any active accounts but you do. For his sake, you don't post a lot of things about him, however, some things are too adorable not to share. And fans love you for the little crumbs you give them
A list of photos I think would be posted on this reader's insta stories:
A photo of him in the garden, checking his tomatoes. I KNOW HE HAS TOMATOES
A photo of your shadows during a coffee run. Bonus points if it's Tim Horton's and it has the Canada location tag
A photo of his back while he's making breakfast
A photo of the view from his house. Bonus points if it is from the bathroom window. Extra points if it has any indicators that you two were previously fucking in there, like steamy doors.
A casual photo of you on his couch and you can see the famous chess game
a video of you two watching the prequels and you can hear yourself saying: "omg who's the handsome guy?" when he appears and he laughs.
A photo of you with one of his caps. Bonus points if it's the Toronto Maple Leafs one.
VS FASHION SHOW
OH YES. THE GOOD PART. THE FUN PART.
He never thought he would be in this position. Front line at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. But he is. And he's there to support his girlfriend. Heck, that still sounds funny to him-
You're out there, strutting your gorgeous figure for the world to see: with your six inch heels, your pretty wings and tiny lingerie- You're a fucking dream. His dream.
He's there at the front line with the Proud Boyfriend club, along with Adam Levine (I know but he got us fooled for half a decade) and Caleb from Kings of Leon.
His heart is pounding hard when your face appears in the initial video where they present all of the models walking
The first time you walk, he stands up, cheering loudly and smiling brightly at you. You were opening the show!!!!! how huge!!!
You focus on the cameras and getting the pose right but when you turn, walking on the side he's in, you point at him, even blow him a kiss.
The other two times you walk, because the initial pressure is off, you can focus more on him, and shoot him a playful wink and/or wave at him. He's grateful that you're giving him that attention, now he can brag around with hard evidence. :)
They dressed you up in a very flirty little piece, a pair of panties with a black bow on your rear side. When you get to the end of the runway, you turn around and show it off, maybe even playfully shake a little.
You know you'll pay for it back home
You will also pay for flirting with the music guest in the middle of the runway
I mean, you were not flirting, just doing the regular thing of pointing at them and dancing with them for mere seconds. But the music guest really focused on you and your strut. Maybe you did take advantage of the moment to get him all jealous and get some angry sex out of it
He could understand that part of your job. It didn't mean he liked it. He made sure to send some backhanded comments in the after party to make sure the musical guest got the picture. That you were taken.
It was so fucking hot.
He loved loved loved your police woman outfit, offering to pay for it himself so you could take it with you.
He was a fan of your angelic look with the enormous big, white wings. Almost drowning you in feathers but making you look like a real life angel. You were to him at least :)
You take such cute pictures on the pink carpet <3 he's looking like arm candy, an absolute accessory of yours. And he was happy to do it ! It was your night and he couldn't be any happier to be there with you !
Although the paps did catch him while he was staring at your spilling boobs. But could you blame him? That dress was TIGHT.
Hayden also has a photo of one of your VS campaigns in a giant frame in his office <3 you were so ashamed at first but you secretly loved that he paraded you around like that <33333333
you can catch glimpses of it during online interviews
LAST BIT
You are in a talk show, talking about the VSFS 2025, when the interviewer gets all serious and jumps:
"Last question, Y/n... is it true you and Hayden Christensen are engaged?"
You open your mouth in bewilderment, scoffing loudly.
"Where did you hear that?"
"Rumors are all over the place... but is it true?"
"No! Of course not." You squealed, acting offended before cracking a sly smirk. "We are married." And you show off the rock on your left hand.
PEOPLE GO WILD.
AHHHHHHHH- I could do this forever but I need to shut up :) also let me know if you want more nsfw content about this couple :)
Also some of these are stolen from my hockeyplayer!Anakin Skywalker / hockeyplayer!Hayden Christensen private headcanons. :)
Last pic because this is how I imagine this reader and Hayden backstage:
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yournightmary · 19 days
Note
fake dating with ellie… like shes trying to get away from cat (cat has like an obsession w/ her or smt??) and reader ex’s with abby but abby wont leave her alone so ellie and reader start fake dating but ellie gets possesive, wants to spend all day with reader EVENTUALLY STARTS ACTUALLY DATING
lmao this might be rlly bad… i love your writing
Fake Dating with Ellie
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content warning:: fem!reader, modern!AU, mentions of drinking and smoking, i don’t know what else
AN:: I passed my exams😋 Hope you enjoy it, I kind of ran out of ideas at the end:/
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ Cat thought that Ellie ‘owed’ her something because she did her tattoo for free (even though she literally made the offer). She was constantly on her ass but in a way that Ellie couldn’t really call her out on or anything.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ As for you and Abby- that poor girl got caught up in her first wlw relationship and couldn’t let you go. You didn’t have the heart to just tell her off so you tried to find a different way to let her know it’s not going to work out.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ You and Ellie weren’t really friends, like of course you guys knew each other. But most of your interactions were on parties or during hangouts with your shared friends.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ One time you overheard Ellie talking about Cat to Dina and you shared your own little story with Abby. That’s when you actually talked to each other, not just meaningless small talk.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ellie was the one that came up with the whole ‘fake dating’ idea, right after Cat started accidentally showing up at Ellie’s job every single time she was working. She still has no idea who gave that girl her schedule.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ You’ve heard some rumors about Abby telling people ‘you were just on a break’ so you thought, why not? Ellie’s a good friend, there won’t be anything hard about fake dating, right?
⇢ ˗ˏˋ At first it started off as just being everywhere in public together. She’d walk you to your classes, always sit next to you and small things like that.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ But Dina said you don’t look believable. And she was right to be honest, it looked like you guys were just friends (which you were) hanging around.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ That’s when you both agreed on some light touches. You’d hold her hand, she’d keep an arm around your waist, maybe even kiss your forehead when Cat or Abby were looking. (There were a few times she pretended she saw them just to do that)
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Then you proposed that you should starting posting each other on your social media. Not like a hard launch ‘Hey this is my girlfriend’ thing, more like Ellie sneaking in a little candid photo of you in the shitposting hell her insta story is. Which Cat always saw immediately after posting.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ellie made the mistake of tagging you on them one time and literally a few hours later you were getting a ‘hey girly’ message from Cat’s account. She tried to convince you that Ellie was cheating on you by sending some old screenshots of their messages and photos of her. Ellie almost pissed herself laughing when you showed her the DMs.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ After a few weeks of fake dating you and Ellie actually became pretty good friends. You had a lot more in common than you thought… other than weird exes.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ You started hanging out alone, or just with Dina and Jesse- since they were both in on it. Whenever she would act couple-y at those times she’d laugh it off as ‘muscle memory’.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ You both agreed that kissing was okay as long as it wasn’t too much, just a small peck here and there. It was mostly because one time at a party Ellie leaned in to whisper something to you and you backed away, unfortunately (or not) Abby saw that and thought it was a little weird.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ After that you acted pretty much like a couple, even in private. Like she’d bring you some take out and you’d kiss her as a thank you, the only thing that was different than actually dating was the fact that you both apologized every time you did that. No matter if it was on accident or not. It wasn’t most of the times
⇢ ˗ˏˋ A good few months passed and Cat finally let Ellie live in peace while Abby moved on from you and went back to Owen. At first you both were relieved that the ‘crazy ex’ thing was over for both of you, but then you realized that meant the end of fake dating. Because obviously you didn’t have actual feelings for each other, it was all just an act, right?
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Yeaaah, not really. You literally didn’t change anything about your relationship after that. Ellie would constantly ask you out on ‘friendly dates’, but you don’t really get high and make out on those, do you?
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Any time you would mention getting a partner she would get so upset. I don’t think she gets angry when she jealous, she just gets sad and thinks that maybe you don’t actually feel anything for her.
⇢ ˗ˏˋ Then you were both at some random party and someone was hitting on you. Before you knew it Ellie was grabbing your wrist, leading you outside and telling you she doesn’t want to fake it anymore (she was a little drunk) ((and high))
⇢ ˗ˏˋ The only thing that changed when you got serious was that you moved in together, as lesbians do. I mean you kind of dated for almost a year, that’s a long time.
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I will never ever write in a normal format
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jybyls · 2 months
Text
Empty || T.C
Masterlist
Request by anonymous here
Warnings: Family issues, drugs, domestic violence, bullying ? Bad writing as usual, and I think that's all.
Words: 4k~
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- 📜🎧🍂 -
Oh God, how she hated you.
You were always annoying her at some point. Giving her sarcastic answers, interrupting her whenever she's talking, disagreeing with everything she says, making comments on her height, etc... But not only were you saying annoying stuff, you'd also grab her shirt to make her fall, come up out of nowhere to scare her, squeeze her cheeks when she gets upset, mess with her hair and to add to all of that you gave her nicknames. Absurd nicknames.
They weren't disrespectful names. Actually, they were sort of cute, but coming out of your mouth, she knew it was just to tease her. The nicknames could go from “Baby” to “My Cutie patootie Lovey dovey friend” with the smuggest smile on your face.
She hated that.
Tara never understood why you took so much pride to make her life a living hell. She always ended up mad at you and screaming if not yelling at you to leave her alone. But you never stopped- actually, you'd eventually stop but never for too long.
The thing was, well, first of all, terribly cliché and hella obvious for everyone but Tara.
You liked her.
You never liked someone as hard as you liked, Tara. And when you realised you had a crush on her, you panicked. You didn't know how to act, what do to, when to do it, you just couldn't function around her anymore, so you just teased her. It was the only way you could be next to her without making a fool of yourself.
Of course, everyone knew. Everyone means Sam, Chad, and Mindy.
Sam was probably the first one to realise the way you looked at her sister when she wasn't paying attention. She probably knew you had a crush on her before you did. At first, she didn't understand why you started to annoy Tara every chance you got, but then she saw the way you'd get all worked up whenever she was flirting with someone else at parties. After that, it all made sense to her. You had a thing for her little sister.
She didn't say anything to anyone for a while, she just watched the way you were around her, the way every time she had an meaningless eyes contact with you, you unconsciously held your breath and when she'd finally look away you let that breath you didn't know you were holding out. It was little stuff like those who assured her that you indeed had a crush on her.
She needed to know she wasn't the only one who thought that, so she talked about it to the twins. Both of them screamed, 'Thank you !', saying how glad they are that Sam saw all of this too. You were so fucking obvious, but she was too fucking oblivious. They all decided to keep this between them and just watch you interact with Tara, and listen to Tara complaining about how fucking childish you are. All of the three of them wanted to tell you to stop messing with her since it wasn't working at all. Not one bit. It did the all opposite actually, she didn't grow to love you but to hate you.
She couldn't stand you. Your looks, your voice, your comments, your personality. Everything. There's not one thing she could appreciate about you. She didn't even know why she still talked to you.
Well, maybe because all of her friends actually liked you, which she didn't understand either. Everyone seemed to love your company when you were around. She hated it. Your energy was so draining to her. It felt like you took all of her energy away. Everyone is always laughing when you're here, everyone except Tara. She couldn't bring herself to find you funny, your little jokes about her that made everyone smile but her.
She'd give you the coldest glare each time her name left your mouth. But after some time she got use to it, not that she had the choice, you were always around, and fighting with you was starting to exhausted her so she preferred to learn how to deal with your presence, even if she thought about putting your head in dirt every seconds you're near her.
At some point she just stopped paying attention to you, fully avoiding you, not looking at you, not talking to you so obviously not fighting with you anymore, that's the only way she could stand you without physically hurting you.
But it has been now a week that Tara didn't need to avoid you because you simply were not around anymore. She seemed so relieved at first that she'd go around her apartment a little smile on her face, like she was living again. She didn't think much about you not being here. She was just happy not to hear your voice blasting in her ears with the most enraging comments.
Sam did ask Tara if she knew why weren't you showing up anymore. Her answer was,
“Why would I care ? Asked her yourself.”
Sam just rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone to check up on you.
Y/n
Sam: Hi Y/n, are you doing alright ? I haven't seen you in a while.
It took you 40 minutes to answer, which was quite unusual for you. You always answered fast, more specifically to Sam, knowing how worried she got.
You: Hey yeah sorry I'm fine, just family stuff yk
*You know, sorry forgot you're old
Sam: Oh shut it, I'm not old.
If you need to talk about it I'm here, yk.
You: Lmao yeah thanks see ya
Sam: Sure thing.
See you, little one.
Tara watched Sam texting you, and even if she wouldn't admit it, the expression on Sam's face worried her. She wanted to know if you were fine without making it look like she cares about you because she doesn't. At least, that's what she forced herself to believe. “So ? What's up with her ?” She asked Sam, trying her best to sound nonchalant. The older Carpenter didn't understand why she asked, but she brushed it of thinking it was her empathy talking.
“I don't know, she just told me she has 'family stuff' going on, that's it.” Sam answered, putting her phone back in her pocket. Tara felt her heart skip a beat, hearing that you might have family problems. Once again, she couldn't comprehend why her body reacted so much to this information. Maybe it was because she could relate to family issues, and she doesn't want anyone to cope with this pain, or maybe it was that she didn't want you to cope with it.
'No, that can't be it, I do not care about her, I never did. It's just 'cause I can relate to that.' She thought to herself. She didn't ask anymore questions and nodded to her sister before going upstairs, in her room.
The idea of you not being alright started to kill her. She couldn't stop thinking about you, but what killed her more is that she had no clue why she cared now. It's not the first time you said something about your family. That was actually quite a topic of conversations. You never said much, but all your friends; Chad, Mindy, Sam, and Tara; knew that you didn't exactly have the dreamy family, and it's why you were constantly hanging at their place. So Tara knew about you and your family and she never really gave a fuck, you seemed fine after all, so fine that you never stopped messing with her when you were there. So why did she care now ? Nothing changed.
Well, maybe something did change. Her. Her feeling changed, but she never caught up with them. She never noticed she was bored when you weren't with her, never noticed the burning feeling in her stomach when you were playing around with someone else was jealousy, never noticed the warmth of your hands was comforting her, she never noticed all of those little things. Maybe if she wasn't so stubborn, she would've realised all of those things, but her ego was stronger than her.
Until now. She did feel the emptiness after two weeks without seeing you. She genuinely missed you and your shitty behaviour but she was too self-willed to admit it to anyone, she barely admit it to herself and even if the need to send you a text was eating her alive, she never did.
She just kept asking Sam if she had any updates, being really careful to have her best poker face on.
Sam always had a little smirk on her face, knowing that her sister was trying to hide her concern for you. She tried to convince her to just send you a text, but she refused every time.
And when Sam would ask her why she won't she send you a text or call you and she came up with the most ridiculous excuses she had ever heard. Like, “She'll just tease me and won't answer at the end.” or “It's not for me, Chad asked.” And that one made her cry of laughter, “I don't even have her on my phone !” You guys literally have an Instagram group chat with you in it, and you both follow each other.
Sam knew that Tara had too much pride to say that she actually gave a fuck about you even just a little bit, she eventually gave up on asking Tara to contact you herself.
Another week went by. It's been now three weeks without seeing you, and Tara was visibly unhappy, less enthusiastic, somehow more tired, and she'd snap anyone who dared to talk to her.
But on a Monday morning at school, while she was talking to her friends, waiting for the bell to ring, she saw a figure afar that she thought she recognised. But Tara being Tara, she didn't go to check herself. Instead, she just sent a text to Chad.
Big boy
Tara: Hey Chad, is y/n back ?
Chad: Idk I haven't seen her
Why ?
You saw her ?
Tara: Yeah I think so
Chad: Where ???
Tara: I think I saw her going to English class
But I'm not sure
Chad: Girl-
Just send her a text
Tara: Well do it yourself
Chad: But you think you saw her !
What am I going to tell her ??
“Hey, so Tara told me she think she recognised you but don't want to send you text herself, so here I am doing for her. So are you back girl ??”
Like come on be fr
Tara: Yeah you should send her that
Actually no
Don't say that I probably recognised her
You saw her, not me, alright ?
Chad: BUT-
YOURE THE ONE THAT ASKED IF SHE WAS BACK
Goddamn Tara fix your stubbornness
We all know you like y/n
Just admit it
Tara: What ????
I don't like her
Fuck her
Chad: Yeah you wish you could
Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes at Chad's text before picking up her bag and heading to class. The second she stepped inside, her eyes were scanning the classroom, hoping to find you sitting at your desk. The smile she didn't even know she had on slowly faded when she saw you were nowhere around. But then she flinched when out of nowhere two mysterious hands were placed on her waist, her defensive side immediately showed up when she nudged the stranger behind her, her elbow directly hitting the right eye of the person behind her.
“Ouch ! Well, I'm happy to see you, too, Tara.” She quickly turned around the moment she heard your voice, yet something was off about it. Your hand was scrubbing the eye she hit. “Oh, shit ! Did I hurt you ?” Tara asked, clearly worried. She got closer to you to check on your eye. It was a bit teary and red. “No, it's fine. It was my fault anyway, I shouldn't have surprised you like that. Sorry.” Your apologises took her so off guard that she stepped back to look at you up and down, like to check if it was actually you. She got closer to you again to hold your chin up so she could have a better look at your injury. She brushed her thumb under your eye. You hissed slightly at the pain.
“You should go to the nursery.” Tara told you, you never heard her talk to you with such a soft tone, but again, she never heard you apologise for anything before. “No, I'll be fine. It's nothing bad.” You answered, closing your eyes for her to stop looking at the injuried one. “You're sure ? Because I for sure can throw a push.” She tried to joke, laughing quietly, hoping for you to follow her. And you kinda did. A small smile on your tired face was shown. Tara watched your drained state with sorrowful eyes. Her hand was still holding your face. You would've melt in her touch normally but right now you weren't sure if you wanted her to touch, not because your feeling dissapeared but because you were too ashamed of yourself in this condition, you didn't want her to see you like this, you kept thinking she'll find you repaling yet it didn't seem like she was.
Her eyes were full of guilt. She genuinely felt bad about hurting you even if it wasn't on purpose. “Let's at least put some water on your eye. The teacher will understand our absent.” Tara insisted, and you finally gave up, letting her guide you to the closest bathroom. Once there she took some paper towel and drowed it under cold water, “Could you come closer, please ?” She asked you, and you did. She moved closer to you so she could take care of your eye. She was gentle with her touch, her fingers slowly caressing your face to see for any discomfort. She put a wet piece of paper under your eye where the injury was, you flinched, which made her flinch, too, you mumbled a small 'sorry' as you looked down at your hands. Tara realised the way you widget with your fingers. She softly put her hands on yours to reassure you. Her soft and warm touch immediately calmed you, eased down, your tense shoulders relaxed, your jaw unclenched, and your eyebrows down. You looked up at her, but her eyes were already on you. You felt her thumb brushing against your hands, a comforting smile on her face.
She once again got closer to your face, cautiously wiping the wet paper towel under your eye. This time, you didn't flinch. You let her do her work. Her eyes were focused on your injury, and yours were focused on her. You analysed her features, taking in every single one of her freckles, how she has lines on her nose because of how much she crunches it, her slightly furrowed eyebrows and the way she bites the corner of her bottom lip. You kept looking at her like she was the only woman on earth for so long that you didn't realize that she wasn't focused on your injury anymore but on you.
You snapped out of your thoughts to see Tara looking into your eyes with the softest smile on her face, “Where did you go ?” You stared at her for a moment before finally talking. “I... um... nowhere, sorry.” You flumbled, Tara just giggled on her side. That laugh. That laugh that made that makes your eyes light up every time you hear it, and obviously, this time it' noy different from the other time. Your eyes lighted up when her giggle left her mouth. You couldn't get your eyes off of her. She's just so mesmering. Hypntising ? Eternal ? Fasinating ? Magnifient ? Majestic ? God, you ould go on forever like that.
Andddd, your brain did. You heard her snapping her fingers in front of you, “Hey, where are you ? Why are you distracted ?” Tara wondered, her eyebrows were furrowed, and she seemed worried. “I'm sorry, my mind is all over the place.” You shook your head down. Tara hummed, looking at you up and down. She glared at you as she stayed quiet for a while. She straightened herself, put a finger under your chin to make you look at her, “Why are you such an ass with me ?” Her eyes deqdly looking into yours. It was a blod question but nothing surprising when you know Tara. What was surprising was, you, atually giving her an answer. No jokes. No sarcasm. Just honesty. “I like you, Tara. I've always liked you. But I was too much of a jerk to think of another way to be around you without being an ass.” Here's the truth. And with that said out loud it could've been the end of you, and you really thought it was when she was just looking at you like you were a ghost, maybe that was because she was about to ghost you for the rest of her life, but fortunately for you Tara has a thing for assholes who temps to be jerks at times.
The thing is, the line between hate and love is very thin and breaks easily.
She saw the mortified look on your face, so she decided to stop the suspene and kiss you. Her right hand went on your left cheek as her left hand fell on your waist. You were too stunned to react. You just had enough capavity in you to let your lips follow hers, letting her take the lead of this magical moment. The kiss was tender. Slow but passionate. You both took your time to take each other's taste in. She tasted like dark chocolate, sweet but strong meanwhile you tasted like cigarretes, additive but deadly.
The kiss kept going for a minute, your lips moving in perfect synchronisation like they were made for each other. You both pulled away when air became a problem. She rested her forehead against yours, a content sigh left her lips. Silence filled up the bathroom, not a soul could be heard. You stayed like this for a moment before she broke the silence, “Why did you disappear for weeks ?” Her voice almost came out in a whisper. You debated with yourself if you should yes or no give her the real reason, “Why do you ask ? Missed me ?” You teased her. Well, good habits don't get away that quickly.
Tara rolled her eyes at your answer, but for probably the first time in her life, she put her ego on the side and admitted the truth. “You know what ? I did miss you. More than that, I was worried about you, and so were the others.” She genuiatly said, a hint of annoyance in her voice like she was mad you didn't tell her what was going on in your life earlier. Your face softened at her words, and you finally told her what happened.
“Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry anyone. It's just that my dad came back, and he claimed to have totally recovered from his drinking problem, but that was a lie.” She carefully listened to you, holding your hand and brushing her thumb over it. Her eyes never left yours even tho you weren't looking at her. As you talked, your eyes roomed every corner of the room. Tara gestured you to keep going, and after a deep breath, you did. “He got violent again. But this time, he took all of his frustration out on me, and mom did nothing to stop him. She was too relieved he didn't come back to beat her but me. And that's when she wasn't too stonned to remember she has a kid.” You confessed. And oh, how it stinged Tara's heart to hear what was going on behind the closed doors of your house. She felt so much anger at your parents for treating you like that, that for a brief second, she thought that some people actually deserve to get murder. But she brushed that thought off, and she pulled you in her arms. Silence gained the room again. She kept you in her arms, trying her best to fight the urge to hug you tighly because she knows your body must hurt like hell from your dad's beating.
“I am so sorry.” She whispered in your ear. So many emotions were burning inside of her. She didn't know if she should be mad at your dad or scared of him. She didn't know if she should be sad for you or amazed by your strength. But all she knew was that she wanted nothing more but to protect you. Now that she had you, she definitely wasn't gonna let you go. You never felt so safe in someone's arms, you knew you could trust her, after all she went through she just wanted a quiet life with her loved ones and now you were forever part of this life.
You didn't let go of her. You couldn't. You want to stay in her arms as long as possible. Something about her scent was so comforting. It smells like home, not the absusive home you knew, but an actual home. A place you feel safe in, a place you can cry in as muh as you can laugh in, a place that feels right, a place you'd always come back to, a place you'd miss after leaving it for a week, a place that would make you forget about everyhting else, a place that helped you so much without being aware of it. That place sadly couldn't be the home you live in but ended up being that person. Saying that you had a crush on her was not right because you fell in love with her, but right now, it didn't feel like you fell for her, but like you finally learn how to walk. How you approached her wasn't a good idea at all, but soulmates always ended up finding each other, and you found yours who was patiently waiting for you to come back to her.
She was perfect when it came up to filling that empty void in you. That empty void that should be filled with love, laughter, comfort, happiness, and good memories. Nobody in your life showed you how you were supposed to love someone, but when you met her, it all made sense. The way you wanted to cherish her, hold her, workship the floor she walks on. And that didn't change one bit. You still want to do all those things for her if not even more now that you have the certitud she's on the same page as you.
Now, all you had to do was let her walk inside that broken place and let her build everything again for that place to beat to the sound of home and not be empty anymore.
- 📜🎧🍂 -
Bonus:
*You and Tara are casually talking on the couch*
Sam: Am I tripping, or ever since y/n got back, her and Tara have been getting along ?
Mindy: Jesus, I thought I was the only one to think that.
Chad: Who knows, maybe Cupid hit them.
- 📜🎧🍂 -
You: Do you ever think we should tell them that we're dating now ?
Tara: Not yet, the shock could be too hard.
- 📜🎧🍂 -
A/n: Fucking finally. After 7 months I finally post this fic. It's definitely not perfect and there's a lot of things I could've bring up or talk more about or just developed, like Sam being protective and stuff but yeah I still hope y'all enjoyed reading this and yes the wait was definitely not worth it, my bad.
Have a good day/night. Love y'all <3 (and thank you for being so patient with me)
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fanficimagery · 2 years
Text
Girl in the Painting
After taking a closer look at Xavier's paintings, Wednesday realizes he wasn't having dreams of her at all. But she does know the girl in the paintings and she's decided that this one good deed shouldn't kill her.
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Words: 6.6K Author's Note: Wednesday AU. I'm well aware Xavier never had dreams of Wednesday; he just painted her because he'd seen her and "instantly fell in love". For this, however, I'm saying he's dreamt of her, possibly even before she showed up to Nevermore, and she realizes later on she was never actually the center of his dreams. Also, TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of past attempted sexual assault. It's brief.
As the students of Nevermore are packing up and readying themselves for their trips home, a group of girls are sitting around the charred fountain in the courtyard.
"So what are your plans for summer?" Bianca asks, fingers skimming the water. The dark skinned siren smiles when Enid blushes prettily, her gaze immediately darting to the ever stoic Wednesday. She's been wondering, as of late, if Enid's feelings towards Wednesday were leaning towards romantic rather than platonic.
"Going to Wednesday's home," Enid finally says. "Gonna spend a couple of weeks with the Addams' family."
"Yeah? I didn't think our resident living dead girl was into slumber parties."
"It's going to be a blast," Wednesday deadpans. Yoko chuckles, sipping on whatever concoction she's mixed up that satiates her bloodlust. "You two are more than welcome. Apparently the more, the merrier."
"Sorry," Yoko muses, "but the coven's gonna travel all summer. I'm quite looking forward to it."
"Mmm. And as much as I'm loving the new attitude, I got some things to take care of before we come back to Nevermore," Bianca says, her silver eyes glowing just the faintest. She really couldn't wait until she finished this favor for her mother and her new creep of a husband. "Besides, I can't be seen painting the nails of the girl responsible for my break-up with Xavier so soon. I at least gotta make it seem like I've made you sweat."
Wednesday just blinks at Bianca's reasoning, but Enid frowns. "Wait, what? I thought you broke up because Xavier was being his emo artistic self?"
Yoko grins around the straw of her drink. "She wishes."
"I actually found a sketch of Wednesday in his journal before I even knew who Wednesday was," Bianca confesses. "Here. Look." She takes her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her pictures. "I snapped a pic to see what I could find out online, but shockingly nothing was solved until Wednesday showed up here."
"I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation."
"Yep. Sounds like you," Bianca says. "Look. See? He drew this before you even stepped foot behind Nevermore's gates."
Wednesday takes the phone and Enid leans closer to take a look. Both girls scrutinize the sketch, both equally baffled to see who everyone has assumed was Wednesday herself smiling. But just as Wednesday is about to hand the phone back, something catches her eye and she brings the phone closer to her face to scrutinize it.
"I can see why you thought this was me," Wednesday says, "but I assure you, it is not me who's apparently caught Xavier's fancy."
"No?" Bianca huffs. "Sure as hell looks like you."
Yoko nods. "Could have fooled me."
"I thought it was me as well, but this sketch proves me wrong. Look here." Wednesday zooms in on the picture, focusing on the right eyebrow. "You see that scar? I don't have it."
Bianca stares before rolling her eyes and reclaiming her phone. "So Xavier gives you a flaw and you immediately don't think it's you?"
"It is not a flaw. It's a sign of strength." Bianca, and the ever-smiling Enid and Yoko frown at the tone Wednesday has now taken on and the steely glint in her eyes.
"What are you talking about?"
"A couple of years ago, me and my siblings decided to walk into town after a tiring day at school. A group of older teenage boys cornered us down an alley, and they held me and Pugsley back while making us watch as they tore at the clothes on my sister's back. They mocked her tears and promised that whatever they did to her, no one would believe her since even our sheriff hated outcasts like us. They wanted to break her because we were different. But in a bout of bravery that I will forever be proud of her for, she took the small blade our uncle Fester gifted her and stabbed one of her attackers. In return, they hit her in the face with half a brick and fled with their friend."
"Shit." Bianca blinks in surprise. "Is your sister okay?"
"She's fine. They only left her with a scar and a fear of normies. She used to have the social personality that Enid possesses, but now she haunts the halls of our home rather than leaving it. I tried to get her to attend Nevermore, but even I failed in doing so. Xavier's sketch though, it shows her smiling. That tells me she will be okay."
"So… Xavier only thinks he's infatuated with you?" Yoko wonders.
"It appears so. But if I can manage to get him to my home, maybe he'll see for himself it wasn't me he was having dreams of."
Bianca huffs a laugh. "Sounds fun. Now I'm really glad I can't make it to your slumber party. The breakup is still too fresh to see him fawning over someone else. Maybe the time away will do me some good."
"This sounds like my kind of drama." Yoko sighs wistfully. "Too bad I'll have to miss it."
"Yes, well, Xavier did gift me this phone." Wednesday pulls out a sleek iPhone. "Perhaps if I had your number, I could text you updates. Or death threats."
"Done and done. Gimme." Yoko happily takes Wednesday's phone, typing her information into it. Then taking a selfie, she hands the phone to Bianca who does the same, but makes sure Wednesday understands that she doesn't want any updates.
"We're going to have so much fun!" Enid happily bounces in place, accepting Wednesday's phone to type in her own information. "I can't wait to meet your family."
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At 001 Cemetery Lane, a gothic looking manor stands tall and proud behind a sentient gate.
With your fingers running through the dust along the wall, you quietly walk down the hallway as your sister's friend can be heard babbling on and on. Enid Sinclair had shown up only a couple of days ago, her bubbly personality breathing life into your usually dark home. You'd have kept your distance had you not learned she was from Nevermore, but upon learning she was a werewolf, you found yourself leaving your room while there was a guest in your home.
Halfway down the staircase, the doorbell ominously tolls and Lurch appears from the next room over to answer it. You freeze, wondering who would dare walk up to your house.
Lurch opens the door and your breathing ceases for a moment at the sight of a teenage boy standing there. He's around six feet tall, give or take a couple of inches, and he sheepishly runs a hand through his chin length hair.
"Hey, uh, is Wednesday home?" He's staring up at Lurch who's towering over him, nervously tugging at the sleeves of his coat which seem to be torn on one arm. Lurch turns and looks up at you, and you startle when the boy's gaze lands on you. His brow furrows before he smiles. "Hi. I, uh, I think your gate tried to eat me."
Your lips faintly twitch and your heart rate starts to slow. If he knows Wednesday and isn't freaking out too much about Gate, there's a good chance he's from Nevermore as well. "He's temperamental. You need to be quick to avoid his swing." Then without waiting for a response, you turn around and call out, "Wednesday! There's a boy at the door for you."
A small weight lands on your shoulder and you grin at the sight of Thing. He trembles excitedly, tapping and pointing and making gestures as you giggle at his enthusiasm.
"Oh, hey Thing! Long time no see." When you glance back at the door, the boy is now inside your home with the door shut behind him and Lurch nowhere to be found. Thing scrambles off your shoulder and rushes towards the boy, and it's not until the boy squats down to fist bump Thing that you catch yourself admiring how cute the boy is. Immediately you shut that thought down and wipe any form of amusement from your expression. Then when the boy glances back at you, he stands tall and smiles yet again. "I'm Xavier Thorpe," he then introduces himself.
"YN," you deadpan. You hear Wednesday's nearly silent footfalls behind you and nod at him before you take a step back up the staircase. "Enjoy your stay here. Don't touch Mother's plants. They bite."
As you turn around, you're unsurprised to find Wednesday looking right at you. Her eyebrow twitches, your eyes narrow, and you clasp your hands behind your back before marching back up the stairs.
At the top of the staircase, Enid is practically beaming at you. "He's cute. Right?"
"Ask my sister. He's her guest."
"What? They're not-"
But you pay her no mind and trace your steps back to your room.
At the bottom of the staircase, Xavier watches as Wednesday's sister disappears. "How long have you known?" He asks.
"That it was my sister you've been having dreams of and not me?" He gives her a deadpan stare and Wednesday nearly smiles. "Only since our last day at Nevermore. Bianca showed me the first picture you ever drew and the scar in her eyebrow tipped me off. You're welcome."
Enid skips down the stairs, sighing as she approaches her friends. "Well you're going to have your work cut out for you, Xavier. She thinks you're here for Wednesday."
"Technically, I am." He shrugs.
"And now you're here for her," Wednesday says. "Protect her heart. You so much as bruise it and I'll dissect yours."
Xavier blinks in shock and Enid giggles, skipping to his side and hooking her arm with his. "Let the wooing begin."
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Over the past couple of days, you keep your distance from Wednesday's friends. You've heard them around the house, sure, but only managed to really be in the same room as them when you all had dinner as a family. You always sat between Wednesday and Pugsley, across from Enid and Xavier, but your eyes never strayed too far from your plate.
One morning, you have the urge to visit what used to be your favorite part of the manor.
The sunroom towards the back of the manor used to be your space- filled with vibrant flowers, plants, and vines and even a small fountain in the corner. But ever since the incident, you've tried to find solace in the one place you loved, only to have everything you touch wilt right before your very eyes. And now- now the sunroom is filled with black and gray and brown plants.
Finding what used to be a rose, your mother's favorite flower, you pick it up and gently cradle it in the palms of your hands. One of its petals crumbles beneath the pad of your thumb and it takes everything in you to not cry.
"I was wondering where you've been sneaking off to." The voice startles you and you turn to see Xavier standing under the archway of the entrance. His hair is pulled back into a small knot at the back of his head, a few strands left loose, and you quickly squash down the thought that he looks really cute like this. "Sorry," he then apologizes. "I thought you would have heard my footsteps."
"...no worries."
You turn back around, gently laying the dead flower back down. Exhaling softly, you then move towards the door leading outside, unsurprised when you hear footsteps following you. "So this place is… awesome."
You huff a laugh, stopping just inside the door and only peering outside towards the family cemetery. "Believe it or not, it wasn't always like this. I used to be able to breathe life into this room."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Now everything I touch seems to die."
"Oh I wouldn't say that."
"Really? Take a look around, Mr. Thorpe. I did this." Xavier takes a look around, frowning and trying to understand you. Exhaling softly again, you paste on a friendly grin and turn to face him. "If you're looking for my sister, she and Enid have Uncle Fester in the electric chair up in the attic."
He barks out a surprised laugh. "What?"
"He loves it." You shrug. Then as you're walking away, you say, "Fair warning; if Uncle Fester tells you to pull his finger, don't."
"Why? Because his farts are killer?"
"No. Because he'll electrocute you."
You leave Xavier chuckling in your wake, finding it a little easier to be in your sister's friends presence.
Then two days later, it's your turn to find Xavier in the sunroom. His hair is back in the little knot that you couldn't stop staring at, dressed in paint splattered clothes as he stands in front of an easel.
When he catches sight of you, he offers you a smile before he focuses on his canvas once more. You continue walking closer and when he doesn't say anything, you walk around to see what he was inspired to paint. Surprisingly, it's a black and white portrait of your sister sitting behind her cello mid-stroke.
"Oh wow," you breathe in awe. "Xavier, this is amazing."
"You think so?"
When you chance a glance at him and notice the faint pink surrounding his cheek bones, you smile genuinely at him. "Of course. You're really talented."
"Glad you think so." Xavier steps back, looking at his work as he stands side by side with you. "Wednesday, uh, she played the cello one night and it was amazing. No one thought her capable of it."
"Why? Because she's death incarnate?"
Xavier chuckles, bashfully averting his gaze. "Something like that." Then looking at the painting once more, he says, "Your mother saw one of my pieces at Nevermore and asked if I could recreate it so she could hang it here."
You nod in understanding, unable to tear your eyes away from the way Xavier has captured your sister. Then right before your eyes, the painting slowly comes to life- Wednesday's bangs blowing in the wind, one hand pushing and drawing the bow across the cello strings as the other holds down certain strings in a muted song.
You quietly gasp, eyes widening in surprise. You watch in awe before turning towards your companion, only to find him holding his hand out towards the painting with his eyes closed. "Oh." You utter in realization. "You're gifted and then you're literally gifted."
Xavier's eyes open and he nods, eyes sparkling. "I have the gift of animation."
"Marvelous."
You continue staring at the painting, finding the foundation of your walls quaking and feeling a bit more comfortable in the presence of the boy who has decided to share his power with you.
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You're so used to sitting between your siblings at dinner that you're thrown for a loop when you find Enid in your usual place. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, but Enid and Pugsley merely smile while Wednesday arches an eyebrow at you.
Xavier fidgets nervously in his chair, smiling sheepishly at you. "Come on. I don't bite," he muses as he gestures to the empty seat.
Against your will, you blush.
"Pity," Wednesday drawls. "I think my sister would have quite liked that."
"Wednesday!" Your mortification makes Enid giggle. You nervously take your seat before your father takes your mother's hand, pressing kisses to the back of her hand and all the way up her arm where he then proceeds to mockingly bite her. "Oh my god. You're all so embarrassing."
"They're cute." Enid beams at your parents' affectionate behavior.
"Someone drown me," you mumble.
"Only after dinner," your mother says.
Xavier snorts and you briefly flash him a grin before fiddling with your utensils.
Lurch brings the food out, everyone having a pasta dish with the exception of Enid who'd been brought out a medium-rare steak. You quietly dig in, gaze darting from person to person as the conversation flows around you.
Eventually, when the dessert is brought out, Enid addresses the younger crowd.
"So the cinema is playing a werewolf movie and I really want to go see it and make fun of it. Is anyone else interested in going?"
"Sure." Xavier shrugs. "Sounds fun."
Wednesday sighs. "If I must."
"I have plans with Thing," Pugsley says, smiling apologetically at Enid.
All eyes turn towards you and you fight the urge to shrink in your seat. You gulp, but before you can come up with an excuse to not have to leave your house, your mother is urging you to go. "It sounds like fun, sweetheart. Surely you'd love to go with your sister and friends."
"I-"
It's been years, darling," your father says. "I think it's time to get back out there. You're not that naive little girl anymore, mija."
You let your mouth close, everyone ignoring Xavier's, "Am I missing something?"
Wednesday's giving you her usual deadpan stare whereas Enid is smiling and nodding, encouraging you to go. Both your parents are smiling, anticipating your answer, but what makes you cave is the fact that a part of you actually wants to go. You want to be somewhat of a normal teenager, being out and about with your sister, Enid, and a cute boy.
Reluctantly, your shoulders sag and you give a nod. "Fine. I'll make an attempt."
"I'll take it!" Enid blurts.
Wednesday looks pleased with your answer and you finish the rest of dinner without uttering another word.
Then the next evening, you're being picky about what outfit you should wear. You'd taken to wearing different shades of black and gray, but tonight you want to look good. All your dresses and skirts are out of the question, and eventually you settle on a pair of burgundy plaid leggings and a black sweater crop top. You fix your hair to your liking and then slip your feet into a pair of black combat boots before lacing them up tightly. Then deeming yourself ready, you shove your phone, cash, and ID into a miniature backpack that is adorned with skulls and crossbones.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you finally make your way downstairs.
Wednesday, Enid, and Xavier are waiting for you, and when Wednesday sees you… a smile slowly blossoms as she takes you in.
"What are you-" Enid turns around and her jaw drops. Then she beams and practically hops in place in her excitement. "You're wearing something other than black!"
Xavier turns, his gulp very obvious. "Wow." You think he must've wanted to keep that to himself because he blushes and nervously runs a hand through his loose hair. "You, uh, you look nice."
You arch an eyebrow at him, grinning. "Thanks."
Walking past them, you walk outside to where Lurch is waiting by the car to drive you into town. He hums when he sees you and you wrinkle your nose at him as he opens the back door for you. You climb in to sit on the bench seat directly behind the driver's seat, holding in your surprise when Wednesday and Enid shove Xavier in right behind you. He practically falls into his seat, righting himself as smoothly as he can, and Wednesday and Enid take their seats across from you.
Enid and Xavier keep the conversation flowing with you and Wednesday occasionally humming in response.
After several long minutes of driving, Wednesday is instructing Lurch where to drop you all off. It's a couple blocks away from the cinema, but your sister apparently wants to go for a brief walk. Though the second your feet are on the pavement and Lurch drives away, you freeze.
"Hey. You okay?" Xavier asks.
Your hands are gripping the straps to your backpack and you gulp, subconsciously stepping closer to him when he gently touches your elbow. "Y-Yeah."
"Come on. Wednesday will leave us behind if we linger."
"Mhm."
Gently pulling on your arm, you stiffly follow Xavier. Your eyes are peeled for anyone staring, hands tightening on the straps of your bag. The only time you feel yourself exhaling with relief is when Xavier puts himself between you and the street, letting you take the part of the sidewalk that's closest to the buildings.
Enid and Wednesday are walking in front of you, elbows linked, and occasionally Enid giggles over her shoulder when she glances back at you. But you're too paranoid to pay her any mind and try to focus on the silent strength that Xavier is unknowingly offering up.
At the cinema, Enid asks for four tickets to the latest werewolf thriller, and she happily claps when Xavier pays for everyone. At the snack counter it takes everything in you to not bolt or hide out in the bathroom, but you shakily manage to retrieve your own cash to pay for some nachos and a drink.
So far no one's stared or shouted and you find yourself relaxing, especially when you take a seat in the movie room and everyone is paying attention to their people that they showed up with.
Sitting between Xavier and Wednesday, you find yourself breathing a little easier.
Enid has several hot dogs balancing on her lap, Wednesday is chewing on black licorice, and you and Xavier had the same idea to get nachos. He, however, also nabbed several boxes of candy and a bucket of popcorn.
"I hope you choke on a kernel," Wednesday says as she watches him stuff handful after handful of popcorn into his mouth.
You giggle, licking the cheesy goodness from your fingertips and sipping on your drink.
And halfway through the movie, you hear Xavier actually choke. A laugh slips out of your sister before her lips are pressed closed once more, and you offer Xavier your drink. Sharing a straw doesn't bother you, so you nod in reassurance as he stares at it.
For the rest of the movie, you and Xavier share your drink. And when you run out, he quickly leaves the darkness of the room to get you a refill.
After the movie, you're standing outside in front of the cinema as Enid talks about the horrible cosmetics they used to portray a werewolf. Wednesday is tapping away on her phone before she puts it away, cutting Enid off mid rant and giving her a nod. She squeals and happily claps her hand, and you stare at them in confusion.
"There's a fair going on," Wednesday says. "Enid wants to go."
You slowly tense up. "Oh."
The bubbly werewolf's smile falls. "But if that's too much for you, we don't-"
"No. It's fine," you assure her. Your hands are back to gripping the straps of your backpack. "We can- we can go."
Enid is back to happily clapping, but Wednesday curiously studies your demeanor. And when she sees you're not about to have a meltdown, she turns and follows after her friend.
"We can always hang out front of the fair if you really don't want to go in," Xavier says. You startle, somehow having forgotten he was there. "I don't mind waiting with you."
"It's okay. Really." Your smile is shaky as you look up at him. "Just, uh, maybe don't leave me alone in there?"
"Stick by your side. Got it." Xavier grins as he offers you his elbow and you're quick to latch on. "I'll even win you the ugliest prize we can find if you're up for it."
You chuckle and let him lead the way, occasionally glancing up at him. "Christ, I forget how tall you are sometimes."
"I'm not tall, you're just really small."
"Ha. Ha."
When you eventually make it to the fair, Xavier hesitates with you as you warily glance around. Then taking a deep breath, you press on and practically make yourself flush against his side. You walk around for a bit, smiling when you see Wednesday and Enid pass you by, Enid already holding tightly to a stuffed unicorn.
As you're walking around, your eyes are drawn back to a green and black dragon that's about half your size. Xavier must notice because he decides to try his hand at basketball in order to win the prize and it takes him four tries to win it.
You don't know what it is about Xavier that makes your guard start to drop, but you find yourself smiling and laughing a bit more easier. He tries winning a panda next, but in between his dart throwing, he notices as you keep your back to the game and are staring from side to side.
You're too distracted to notice he's watching you, your arms wrapped around your dragon as you nervously chew on the bottom corner of your lip. He sighs a little dejectedly, turning around so he can see where you're staring off to. "So who's the lucky guy… or girl?"
"Excuse me?" You look up at him, brow furrowed in confusion.
"You keep glancing around." He faintly grins. "Are you waiting for someone?"
You study his features, eyes subtly widening when you notice something. Was that- was that jealousy clouding his expression? "Wednesday didn't tell you," you then mumble in awe. You for sure thought he knew why you never left your home. After all, Enid did.
"Tell me what?"
You gulp, glancing at the carnie listening in to your conversation. "Let's go for a walk. I'll fill you in." Shakily exhaling, you gesture for Xavier to follow. Side by side, he walks with you with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his coat. "A few years ago, Wednesday, Pugsley, and I were attacked by a group of normies. It… wasn't a pleasant experience for me and it's actually how I got this," you say while gesturing to the scar on your eyebrow. "They were ripping- uh, they were ripping off my clothes, so I stabbed one of them." Your breath hitches and when you chance a glance up at Xavier, you find that his jaw is clenched. "I stopped them from doing that to me, but they managed to hit me with a brick before they ran away."
You make it a few more steps before you're being tugged to a stop and then Xavier is walking to stand in front of you. Gently cupping one side of your face, you manage to hold back a flinch when his thumb brushes over your scar. "You're safe with me. You know that right?"
"I'm starting to realize that."
"That was a shit thing those normies did and I'll be damned if they do anything on my watch." When you meet his gaze, he offers you a small smile. "Now let's go win Wednesday the brightest stuffed animal we can find and make her take a picture with it."
Slowly smiling, you chuckle. "Okay."
And by the end of the night, you and Xavier have won the most terribly bright and fluffy stuffed animals, shoved them near Wednesday's face, and had Enid hurriedly snap a picture of your glaring sister.
You're smiling and skipping alongside Enid towards a waiting Lurch, laughing with all the stuffed animals crammed between your arms and bodies before crawling into the idling car.
For once, in a very long time, you've had fun and didn't worry about any normies looking in your direction.
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Xavier's just got off the phone with his father when a familiar song being played on the cello draws him towards Wednesday's room. The door is open, the room is empty, but there's another door that leads out to a balcony.
Following the music, he's not surprised to find Wednesday playing Paint It Black while Thing turns the sheet music for her. Gomez, Morticia, Pugsley, and Enid are also on the balcony, staring at something down below.
"What's going on?" He asks, stepping closer to the railing.
Enid glances at him, beaming. "Take a look for yourself."
Xavier glances down, gaze falling to the gazebo that's been strung up with white fairy lights. But what draws his attention is the twirling figure inside the gazebo, adorned in a black leotard and a multicolored tutu. His jaw subtly drops. "She dances?"
"She dances." He looks over at Morticia Addams, tears glistening in her eyes. "It's been years since she's put on her slippers though."
"This week and a half with you and Enid have brought our daughter back," Gomez says. "Thank you."
Paint It Black fades into Nothing Else Matters and a majority of the white lights darken into purple. Xavier is entranced by the way you twirl on the tips of your toes, the stretch of your neck whenever your head is thrown back, and the long stretch of your leg when you twirl on the tips of your toes only on one foot.
As the music fades out, Enid breaks out into applause.
Your head snaps up at the sound of clapping, chest heaving, and your face burns when you see everyone watching you. Your little brother whistles as he claps too, but it's your parents' beaming and tearful expressions that keeps you from fleeing. Well them and Xavier who looks more than a little awed.
So before you do take your leave, you give them a little bow and then rush back inside the house.
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Sitting on the floor in the middle of the sunroom, you're staring at the lockscreen on your phone. You never saw when the picture was taken, but apparently Enid had been keeping tabs on you and Xavier when you were at the fair, and now it was one of your favorite pictures.
In the picture, you and Xavier are walking side by side, one of your arms wrapped around your stuffed dragon with the other arm looped through his. You're looking up at him and he down at you, both of you smiling. But what made you grin at the picture the most was the height difference between you and Xavier. Enid was spot on when she described you two as tall and smol.
Hearing approaching footsteps, you block out your screen and climb to your feet… and speak of the devil.
Xavier walks in, smiling. "Knew I'd find you here."
"Did you now?" Walking over to a bench seat, you gesture to the space beside you. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to see if you were up to going into town. The cinema is showing this new cheesy horror flick and I thought you might be interested in going before my time here is up."
"Oh. Uh, yeah." Your heart starts to hammer in your rib cage. Could this be a- "Just us or are Enid and Wednesday waiting for us out front?"
"Just us?" His answer is more of a question, his cheeks tinting pink the longer you stare.
Eventually you grace him with a bashful smile. "Sure. I'd like that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You laugh. "Are- are we leaving now?"
"Yeah. We can, uh, window shop and all that fun stuff before the movie."
Warmth surges through you, at the thought that Xavier wants to spend time with just you. You're not sure if this is actually a date, but you're looking forward to one on one time without a family member lurking around the corner. "Alright. Let me just go get a bag." As you stand up to leave the room, a vine falls over the entrance. But not just any vine- a vibrant green vine that hadn't been there moments before.
"Huh." Xavier huffs. "That's the first colorful plant life I've seen in this room."
Your eyes widen and you glance all around the room, taking notice how the dead plant life isn't looking quite so dull anymore. "No way," you breathe in awe. Turning towards where the fountain sits, you rush over and pick up one of the dead water lilies. Cradling it in the palms of your hand, you notice a couple of changes in the once dead flower. Feeling Xavier walk up beside you, you ask, "Remember how I said I used to be able to breathe life into this place?"
"Yeah."
"Watch." Bringing the water lily closer to your face, you let your eyes fall shut as you inhale deeply. Then slightly pursing your lips, you blow out slowly and you can feel the water lily coming back to life right there in the palm of your hands.
"Wow." Your eyes open upon Xavier's exclamation. "And here I was thinking you had a green thumb or something. Not that you actually breathe life into them."
Huffing a laugh, you blink your tears away and gently lay the water lily back in the fountain. "I haven't been able to do this for years. I guess I had a mental block and then you- you and Enid show up and I feel more at peace than I have in a while." You step up on the side of the fountain then, turning towards Xavier as you smile. "Thank you." Then leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek.
He suddenly turns bashful, angling his face downward so his hair shields his blushing cheeks. "I never realized how small you were."
"Shut up. You're just freakishly tall."
As Xavier glances at you through his curtain of hair, you wrinkle your nose at him and then hop off the fountain siding less you do something to ruin the moment.
Like kiss him on the lips rather than the cheek.
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Spending the day with Xavier alone goes so much better than you had expected, so much so that you find yourself incredibly sad the day he is set to leave. It was clear to your entire family that something had shifted between the two of you when you'd come back home, hand in hand with a never-ending blush staining both your cheeks.
Enid was more than ecstatic and Wednesday took to sharpening her short swords whenever possible.
You're in the sunroom, clipping roses with your mother when Xavier walks in. In hand, he has a covered canvas.
"I have something for you," he tells you. "But I'm sure your mom is going to take ownership of it after she sees what it is."
You smirk at him, setting down your clippers and walking over to him. Your mother isn't far behind. "Did you paint me something?"
"I did." His hands dig into his pockets after his hands are free when you take the gift from him. You stare at the covered canvas, trying to figure out what it could possibly be. "You inspired me the other night and I just had to capture the moment."
You glance up at him, eyes narrowing though you continue to smile, and pull the cover off your painting. Your mother's delighted gasp is what makes you glance down and you're struck speechless.
The painting… is of you.
Specifically you dancing in the gazebo with the only color in the painting being that of your tutu.
"Xavier, this is…" You trail off, staring in awe. A moment passes and he brings the painting to life. Your mother starts to clap, even more delighted now as the miniature version of you dances away. "This is amazing. Thank you."
"I must show your father. This is just splendid." Your mother takes the painting, but not before gently grazing her nails along Xavier's jaw and smiling at him. "Thank you, young Mr. Thorpe."
"Y-You're welcome, Mrs. Addams."
Your mother sighs wistfully before glancing at the painting and then leaves the two of you alone. As soon as she's out of your sight, your hands are reaching for the lapels of Xavier's coat, his hands are clinging to your waist, and he's leaning down to meet you in a kiss.
You giggle when his hair falls forward to tickle your face and it makes Xavier smile.
"We really should have started this sooner," he says as he hesitantly straightens himself out. "I'm gonna miss you while I'm at Nevermore."
"What if… what if you didn't have to miss me?" You ask, your hands smoothing down the wrinkles you'd made on his coat.
"What?"
"What if I came to Nevermore?" He's quiet a little too long for your liking and you start to feel like maybe you read too much into whatever you two were. "Or not. I just thought-"
"Are you kidding me?" You barely manage to hold back a wince and Xavier's sudden laugh has you wanting to crawl into a hole. But when you chance a glance up at him, his expression is not what you were expecting. He's actually excited! "You're going to Nevermore?!"
You shrug, grinning sheepishly. "Mom's been talking to Principal Weems. I have a meeting with her in a couple of days to see whether or not I'll be a good fit."
"Hell yes." His smile is boyish and you can't help but giggle. "You'll make it in. I know it."
"I hope so. I love my parents, but they're not the greatest of teachers."
"You're gonna love it. I can introduce you to my friends and show you all the cool hang out spots. We can-"
"Xavier. Xavier!" You laugh, trying to talk over his excitement. "We don't even know if I'll get in."
"I'm telling you, you will. And if Principal Weems denies you, I'm pretty sure Wednesday will bug her until she grants you a place at the school."
"Oh. I forgot what going to school with a sibling was like." This time, you do wince. "People are going to dread another Addams roaming the halls, aren't they?"
"Some will." He grins. "But once they get to know you, they'll grow to like you."
You sigh but end up shaking your head in amusement. "If I do get in, how shocked do you think everyone will be if Wednesday's sister shows up dressed like Enid?"
"You'll confuse the hell out of everyone. Do it."
"I will. Now come on. We got away with one kiss. I have a feeling if another happens, a dagger will whiz by out of thin air."
"Xavier." The boy in question flinches as your sister pops up out of nowhere. "Your ride's here. Stop sucking my sister's face and go home. You'll see her soon enough."
He rolls his eyes, even as you laugh in the face of your sister's glare. "Always a pleasant encounter, Wednesday."
"Not really."
He huffs and glances back down at you, his gaze falling to your lips. But before he can get carried away, Wednesday's grunting and dragging him away. "Okay. Okay!" He laughs.
"You're gross. I never should have introduced you two."
You follow after them, trailing behind until you're standing under the archway of your front door. Wednesday pushes him down the steps and he walks to the car that Lurch is putting his suitcases in. He offers you one last look, one last smile, and one last wave before climbing into the vehicle his father had sent for him.
Once the car drives out of the gate, Wednesday turns towards you. "Are you happy?"
"Uh, yes?"
She quietly groans. "And here I was preparing Enid to hide a body in the family cemetery. She'll be let down that all that studying was for naught."
You bark out a laugh. "Stop corrupting Enid, Wednesday."
"Never." Her lips twitch in amusement. "Now come on. Let's go visit Principal Weems."
"But my interview is still a couple days away."
"So? She needs to be kept on her toes. She'll have to grow used to having two Addams' in her school."
"If you say so."
"I do."
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