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justalonelybitch · 8 months

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Lovesick Fools

Kazuha x F!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Highschool AU

Warnings: hints of poor home life, overworking, implied family issues, smol commitment issues

Word Count: 2.7k

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dedicated to my lovely muse @siyooungi <3 enjoy your dessert

Your mind buzzed with thoughts as you wandered aimlessly through the dreary school halls. You swore all the endless studying was bringing you closer to your grave with each passing day. Your desperate longing for a break guided you up the school stairs. Eyes gleaming with delight as you unlocked the familiar door, your muscles ached in protest trying to push it open, sighing when it finally gave. Collapsing on the nearest couch with a thud, your body sunk into the soft cushions immediately. “What the hell happened to you?” Sakura, the student council secretary, asked teasingly when your head landed atop her lap. Her hands combed through your hair as she studied your appearance, worry written on her features.

“You work too hard Y/n,” Your student council president scolded you, eyes drifting from her assignment to spare you a wary glance. “Someone’s got to pay the bills,” you said playfully, no one catching the serious undertone of your words- well almost no one. Kazuha’s concerned gaze peered at you from from afar. Your legs dangled lazily off the couch as you relished in your childhood best friend’s gentle touch. It sent you into a state of bliss, your heart swelling with content as you allowed yourself to truly relax for the first time in what seemed like forever. “When’s your next shift?” Chaewon asked, the innocent question dragging you back to the harsh reality that was your life. Groaning, you lazily lifted your hand to glance at your watch, forehead creasing in a frown. “One hour,” you mumbled, cursing under your breath.

“How do you work every night and get good grades?” Sakura muttered, baffled by your ability to balance everything. Humming thoughtfully, a smirk crept up to your lips, mischievous glint in your eyes. “A magician never reveals their secrets,” you said cheekily, abruptly jumping to your feet. Saluting jokingly, you swiftly swung the door open, disappearing without another word. Kazuha quickly rose from her own seat where she’d been silently listening, rushing after you as while yelling her goodbyes over her shoulder. Jogging down the steps in a hurry, she bearly caught sight of you disappearing round the corner.

“Y/n!!” Kazuha yelled, halting you in your step. Spinning on your heel, you turned to face the ballet dancer. Smiling brightly, you waited patiently for her to catch up with you, chuckling when she panted breathlessly upon reaching your side. “I’ll walk with you,” she managed to get out between breaths. Nodding happily, you linked your arm with hers, dragging her out of the hellish school. “How’s the dance performance coming along?” You asked curiously, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the bright sun. Falling into step with you, she mimicked your actions, no longer squinting to see your eyes that gazed at her with sincere intrigue.

“It’s good, I even have a solo part this time,” Kazuha murmured, sheepishly scratching that back of her neck. “Really?” You asked, a proud smile adorning your lips. The dancer hummed in response, laughing when a particularly strong gust of wind blew your hair into her face. Stopping momentarily, you innocently pushed the stray strand of hair behind her ear. Her breath hitched as she gazed into your eyes, she could’ve sworn your hand lingered. Glancing briefly at your lips, her eyes widened in surprise when you inched closer. Her body instinctively followed your movements, lips lingering just short of yours.

Before she could close the gap, you pulled away abruptly, ducking your head shyly. A dark blush coated Kazuha’s cheeks, swallowing her disappointment as she looked to her feet awkwardly. Clearing her throat, Kazuha shook her head in hopes of ridding her mind of your pretty pink lips that invaded her mind on sleepless nights. Walking silently, you busied yourself with admiring the fallen leaves decorating the path before you, uncertain of how to proceed. Both of you grinned bashfully each time your hands brushed against one other, unable to make eye contact.

“When does your shift end?” Kazuha finally broke her silence once she’d successfully recomposed herself, gaze burning holes into the side of your head. Though when you turned to meet her curious gaze, she folded the moment your eyes that danced with kindness met her own. “Eleven tonight?” You tilted your head, unsure of the answer. “Again?” The older girl sighed, no stranger to your habit of overworking yourself. You shrugged your shoulders plainly. “Are you coming over after?” Kazuha asked hopefully, growing accustomed to late night visits.

“Only if it's alright with you. I don’t think I can go home tonight.” You smiled sadly, eyes telling a tale of your sorrows. Kazuha knew better than to ask. You liked that she never did, it was one of the many reasons you found yourself knocking on her door every night and Kazuh awas determined to keep it that way. “No wonder you’ve been so exhausted lately, you’re hardly getting enough rest.” She made a seamless change of topic upon sensing your discomfort. As much as she worried, she was content knowing you would open up to her some day. She could only hope for that much.

“I’m going to be late, I better leave!” You exclaimed suddenly, avoiding her concerned gaze as you wandered off, hands stuffed into your jacket pockets. “I’ll see you tonight!” Kazuha yelled after you, biting back the smile that threatened to break out on her angelic features. You beamed brightly at her, giving her a double thumbs up before disappearing into the distance. The older girl sighed in content, running a flustered hand through her hair. A wide grin finally crept onto her face as she shoved her hands into her own pockets, smiling stupidly all the way home.

It was ten o’clock that night when Kazuha finally heard the awaited knock on her front door. Rushing to the source of the sound with little care for her appearance, she swung the door open eagerly, heart thumping in anticipation- Or maybe it was because she’d been practising for her upcoming performance for the past few hours, though she preferred the former. Nothing could prepare her for the sight of your sweet smile, butterflies swarming to life in her stomach upon opening the door. “You’re early,” she managed to stutter out, swallowing her nerves with a harsh gulp. Her eyes wandered your face appreciatively, admiring the way your exhaustion only seemed to add to your beauty.

Kazuha blinked owlishly upon realising how long the two of you stood silently staring at one another in her doorway. She tilted in curiosity her head when she found you in just as much of a daze as she was. Her eyes followed your gaze to her stomach, eyes blown wide open when she noticed what you were staring at. “Sorry, I was practicing the dance..” She trailed off, self-consciously covering her exposed stomach. You coughed awkwardly, pulling your gaze away from her surprisingly toned abs. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming, boss man let me go early,” you muttered apologetically, glancing anywhere but the girl directly in front of you.

“That’s alright, I’m glad you got here safely.” She expressed her relief, gesturing behind her in a weak attempt to usher you inside. “I hope I didn’t interrupt,” you murmur upon passing the threshold, painfully aware of the way her skin glistened with sweat in the dimly lit living room. “Don’t worry, I was just about to take a shower.” She smiled reassuringly, clicking the door shut behind you. Kazuha wordlessly reached for your hand, leading you up the spiralling stairs to her room with a sudden burst of confidence. You ducked your head bashfully at the contact, cheeks dusted pink.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Kazuha urged with a grin when she arrived at her room. The pastel colours and sweet scents were something you’d grown accustomed to, spending more time in the dancer’s room than you did your own. Your chest never failed to tighten at the sight of the small bed the two of you climbed into each night. You’d never bothered to question why her family home’s numerous guest bedrooms were always left untouched when you visited, not when you slept so soundlessly next to her. Wordlessly curling into her side each night was strangely comforting for reasons you’d never understood, but wouldn’t dare risk losing her warm embrace with stupid questions.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Kazuha mumbled once you’d plopped down on her bed. She clumsily searched for a change of clothes before disappearing off the bathroom. You chuckled when she stumbled out of the room, a foreign feeling settling in your chest as you glanced around her room. Ignoring the persistent buzz of your phone as you settled comfortably on her bed, boredom threatening to overcome you as you stared up at the ceiling littered with glow in the dark stars. It felt like hours had passed before you finally heard the shower turn off, but perhaps it was just your growing anticipation to be in her calming presence.

“Are you tired?” Kazuha’s gentle inquiry greeted your ears after what felt like an eternity had passed without hearing her angelic voice. “A little,” you admitted, sitting up to find her leaning against the threshold. Her dark wet locks framed her soft features, oversized hoodie almost swallowing her body whole. You shivered under her intense gaze, overwhelmed by how hard your heart thrashed against your ribs at the mere sight of her. “You’re cold,” she observed, eyes narrowing when you shrunk into yourself. Her eyes lit up as she dashed towards her closet, reappearing seconds with a jumper in hand, her jumper.

She silently offered it to you, her sheepish smile rendering you speechless. “Thanks,” you murmured softly, tugging it over your head appreciatively. “It suits you,” she blurted out before she could stop herself, admiring the way you looked in her clothes. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smiling at the compliment, your cheeks flared red as you avoided her curious gaze. You were thankful when she flicked the lights off, praying she hadn’t noticed you how easily she flustered you. Your smile widened with a will of its own when the bed dipped beside, Kazuha slipping beneath the covers.

Your breath hitched when her arm brushed against yours, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue as your nerves got the best of you. No matter how many times you’d shared a bed with the dancer the tension lingering between the two of you never faded. Though after an agonising five minutes of painful silence, Kazuha finally shifted closer to you. She pretended it was so she wouldn’t fall off the edge to ease her mind, but both of you knew it had nothing to do with that. “I’m cold,” the lie rolled off your tongue with practiced ease, shuffling closer to Kazuha under the pretense of a cool night.

It was the same as every night you visited Kazuha. The excuses you made to be closer to one another were safe. It didn’t matter that neither of you believed the poorly curated lies. It was familiar and that was what mattered. Though Kazuha deemed tonight would be different. The way your breath fanned her neck when you snuggled closer to her was something she didn’t want to imagine her life without. She never wanted to forget the way hands curled into the fabric of her hoodie so tightly as though you feared she may disappear into the darkness of the night. Your sleepy confessions that made her heart race each night weren’t something she was sure she could survive without. Having all that in mind made words she’d stumbled over for months seamlessly roll off the tip of her tongue.

“You know I like you right?” Kazuha's question echoes the darkness. You hummed in acknowledgement, biting your tongue as you shifted in her embrace. A part of her regretted the admission when you received it with silence, but you spoke before she could spiral. “I don’t know what to say,” your whisper was so quiet she almost missed it. Rather than jumping to conclusions, she waited patiently for you to elaborate, but she couldn’t help the anxious feeling that overcame her. “You’re one of the kindest people I know and you make me feel so safe, but a part of it scares me.” You confessed, voice muffled by her shoulder. Her heart ached at the pain hiding beneath your words.

“It scares me because you’re the only person that has ever made me feel this way,” you continued bravely. “And I don’t know what that means or if it’s even what you want to hear-” You cut yourself off, inhaling sharply as soon as the words left your lips. You couldn’t see the faint smile tugging at the corners of Kazuha’s mouth for it was hidden by the darkness, but you could feel her grip on your waist tighten. “I guess what I’m trying to say is.. I think I like you too,” you breathed out before it could become a ramble about months of concealed confessions. The warmth that blossomed in Kazuha’s chest at your admission was like no other. She was certain she could never be happier than she was in that very moment.

“Really?” The doubtful inquiry escaped her lips before she could stop it, uncertainty clouding her mind. “I’ve never felt this way for anyone else before, but if you’d be willing…I’d like to see where this might lead us.” You suggested, voluntarily taking a leap of faith into the unknown for her. “You mean dating?” She questioned cluelessly, holding her breath hopefully. “Only if you’re interested-” You stumbled over your words, desperately warding off the doubts that plagued your mind day and night. “Of course I am,” she breathed out before you finish, cheeks hurting from the sheer amount of times she’d smiled in your presence.

“Well then I suppose that’s settled,” you uttered stiffly, unsure how to proceed with your newfound establishment. It seemed Kazuha was no better, awkwardly shifting beneath you as she struggled to find the right words. “I suppose so,” was all she managed to conjure, words left hanging in the air. Though you were no strangers to awkward tension lingering between you, this was unfamiliar territory. Your mind wandered far and wide until the painfully loud silence simply became too much to bear.

“Zuha?” You questioned into the crook of her neck, feeling her go rigid beneath as your lips barely brushed against her skin. “Mhm?” She hummed shakily, not trusting her voice enough to speak. “I really want to kiss you right now,” your daring declaration caught the dancer off guard, blood rushing to her face. “Oh… oh!” She exclaimed clumsily, eyes comically wide as her brain scrambled to express her delight. “Oh?” You questioned, insecurities creeping into the whispered question. “Good oh! Great even!” She was quick to confirm, tugging you closer before doubts could pull you away.

“Good oh..” You trailed off with a pleased smile, Kazuha nodding her head rapidly in agreement despite the fact you couldn’t see her. “Well in that case,” you mumbled into the silence, lifting your head from her chest. If Kazuha was curious, you didn’t leave her wondering long. Leaning forwards, your soft lips managed to find her cheek in the darkness, lingering before you pulled away with a pleased grin. The dancer was wrong when she though she could never be happier, because if she got to spend the rest of her life like this she was bound to combust from joy.

It may not have been the kiss Kazuha was expecting, but her heart thrashed painfully against her ribs nonetheless. The content sigh that slipped past her lips was enough confirmation for you to know she felt the same way you did in that exact moment. While learning to love would certainly be difficult, you were positive that with Kazuha by your side anything was achievable. With that in mind, you slipped into a peaceful slumber in the embrace of the girl you would come to love in no time.

waiting patiently for my kiss 😌😌

#le sserafim x reader #kazuha x reader #nakamura kazuha x reader #kazuha imagines #lesserafim x reader #le sserafim imagines #lesserafim imagines #nakamura kazuha imagines

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niphredil-14 · 4 months

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The platonic Leo request got me thinking…

What if, in a romantic scenario of Donnie x reader where they’re Leo’s best friend? Donnie falling for the idiot and reader is the idiot, wingman Leo let’s go.

OOH I LOVE THIS IDEA! Sorry it took me so long, life's been hectic. Warnings: fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Word Count: 1.3k

BAD DIRECTIONS (Rise! Donnie/Reader)

She was convinced that Leo did not in fact live in the sewers, but instead, that his home was a labyrinth that had her completely turned around and lost. Leonardo had given her what had sounded like clear directions to the bathroom, but evidently were not clear enough. She was just about to cave and call Leonardo, when a voice made her pause.

“Hello?” Came from behind her. She turned, to find a turtle standing in the hallway a few feet away from her. She didn’t know Leonardo’s brothers very well, only having spoken to them shortly and infrequently, and not seeing much of them as most of the time she spent with Leo was at her place. Despite the unfamiliarity, if the amount of purple he wore wasn’t a dead giveaway, the various tech he carried on his person definitely was.

“Oh, hi!” She said, slightly startled. “Uhh… Donnie, right?” He nodded in response.

“You’re Leo’s friend, right?” He said their name. She nodded, just the same as he did. “What are you doing just hanging out in the hallway? Did Leo ditch you? That ass.” Donnie said, falling into a slight ramble.

“Oh, no, no, no! He didn’t ditch me.” She said. “I just, um, well, it’s kind of embarrassing, but I got a little lost on my way to the bathroom.” She explained. “I was just about to call him.” Don let out a slight snort, and turned around, starting to walk away.

“Follow me.” Was all he said, not waiting for her to hurry to catch up to him. He led her through twisting, confusing hallways that she did her best to memorize, so as to not get lost again. His strides were long, and she somewhat struggled to keep up. Finally he stopped beside a door, and turned to her. “Here it is.”

“Oh! Thank you!” She said. Don made a soft affirmative hum and began to take a few steps, so she entered the bathroom. When she emerged, she found Donnie standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall scrolling on his phone. At hearing the door swing open, he looked up, and tucked his phone into his pocket. She was evidently confused by the fact that he was still there, and quirked an eyebrow up. Before she could question him, he spoke up.

“Go back in and wash your hands again.” He said, deadpanned and serious.

“I- What? I just did.” She responded.

“Yes, for thirteen seconds, which is insufficient. You should wash for at least twenty seconds to prevent illness. Sing ‘Happy Birthday’ twice.” Flabbergasted, she reentered the bathroom, and rewashed her hands, taking care to intentionally sing obnoxiously loud.

“Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday,

Dear Donnie~

Happy Birthday to you!”

With the door being open, there was no resistance for the sound to reach his ears, and he let out a small snort, musing to himself what perfect sense her and Leo’s friendship made. It was endearing to him, in a strange way, her act. And it was slightly frustrating that he knew the same amusement would not be present if it were his brother doing the very same act, instead of the cute girl he was always talking about. From how often Leo spoke about her, Donnie felt like he had already known her well, for quite some time, even though they had not spoken to each other more than four separate times. And deep down, in a part of him that he shoved every thought that he didn’t feel fully prepared to acknowledge or process, there was stored a feeling of slight jealousy surrounding Leo and his best friend. She was clearly quite the character, and Donnie had found himself drawn to her, wishing that perhaps he could grow close to her as well. She had begun to sing the song for a second time.

“Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday to you!

Happy Birthday-“

“My birthday isn’t for another four months.” Donnie interjected, correcting her.

“Dear Donnie~

Happy – four month early- Birthday to you!”

She had dragged out the last syllable of his name in her song, and had switched from singing to speaking when she said “four month early,” before switching back to singing for the rest of the song. He smiled slightly, and breathed out a silent laugh as he shook his head, which she, luckily for him, did not witness as she was preoccupied drying off her hands. Walking out, she held her hands out to him, palms up.

“Do they meet your standards, oh Lord of Proper Hygiene?” He glanced down at her hands for a moment, and gave a curt nod.

“Yes, they do, Oh Lady of Unnecessary Sass.” She gave a small giggle, that he generously returned. As their laughs quieted, a short silence fell over the two of them as they looked at one another. It did not turn awkward until after a few seconds, after which Donnie coughed to clear his throat, and turned away. “Do you know the way back to Leo’s room?” Her eyes widened, and her cheeks slightly flushed in embarrassment.

“Oh, um, no.” He laughed lightly, genially, and motioned with his head for her to follow him.

“I’ll walk you back.”

The journey to Leo’s room didn’t take more than two and a half minutes, but it was filled with conversation that flowed smoothly and naturally. The pair found themselves standing outside of Leo’s door far too soon for either of their liking, but reluctantly, they pulled their conversation to an end, regardless.

“Thanks again for helping me, I know it was a pretty stupid situation on my part.” She giggled to try to mask just how deep her embarrassment ran. He offered her a smile softer than he willingly would to most others he didn’t know all that well, and reassured her.

“The lair was specifically designed to be labyrinthian and confusing, in case any of our enemies were to find it, the odds were against you from the start.” Just as they were about to say their goodbyes, the door swung open, and Leo stood in the entryway with a ridiculously smug look on his face.

“God!” Leo gasped, as if in pain. “That took you ages!” His words were directed at her. “You have got to cut down on the Starbucks.” Her mouth dropped, and fire filled her eyes as she jumped at Leo, swatting at his head.

“Leo, I’m gonna fucking kill you!!” His laughter resounded throughout the room and hallway as they play-fought. When the fight had finished, with Leo yelling,

“Uncle! Uncle!” As she sat atop his shell, beating his head with a pillow, she had turned to the doorway, only to find Donnie had disappeared. It was then, almost as if on cue, that her phone pinged in her pocket. She dropped the pillow, and pulled out her phone. She had received a text from an unsaved number. Opening it up, she found several images had been sent to her, all maps and schematics of varying complexities. After staring for a moment, she put the pieces together and realized that they all depicted the lair. Three bouncing dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, android then she received another text.

Unknown: If the maps are insufficient, and you find yourself lost again, feel free to contact me. -Donatello.

A small smile graced her face as she stared typed a response.

YN: Considering my serious lack of direction and spatial awareness, I’ll probably take you up on that. Thanks, Donnie c:

She was broken out of the spell by Leo’s voice from beneath her.

“So,” He began, dragging out the word. “You and Donnie, huh?” He teased, winking at her, and it hit her.

“Oh my god! You gave me bad directions on purpose!” She screeched, and reached for the pillow again, resuming her assault.

#teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #tmnt donatello x reader #tmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader

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sapphic-coded · 11 months

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I Swear That I Don't Have A Gun

You grew up in Ohio with your father, brother, and sister. Your family was small and strange. Because of that, you were picked on relentlessly at school. Until another weird kid showed up. Her family moved in across the street from you. It wasn't long until the two of you became friends. Your friendship became the light in your life. Until it ended suddenly. Rumors followed your friend's disappearance. Russian spies. You didn't see her again until you crossed paths at work.

Series Masterlist

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Lots of violence against wood. Reader is a messed up assassin and is proud of her work. So much childhood trauma just hanging out in the background. Reader dresses up like a lumberjack.

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the love you showed for the first chapter of this fic! All the likes, reblogs, and comments helped keep my muse alive as I wrote the second chapter. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you want to be added to the tag list then let me know, and I'll add you when I post chapter three. Enjoy!

Taglist: @natsxwife @iliketozoneout @newawakening9 @natasha-1million @ilovemcuff

Chapter Two: Flower In A Hailstorm

Mount Vernon, Ohio – 1992

Your black backpack bounced lightly against your back as you followed a couple paces behind your brother and sister. The morning was bright and warm. The neighborhood was a quiet bustle of activity. Garages opening. Cars pulling out of driveways to begin another commute to work. Other kids trickled out of quiet homes on their way to school.

When you had walked two blocks, your brother swung his navy blue backpack around until it hung off his shoulder in front of him. He unzipped his bag and looked at your older sister. His hand disappeared into his bag.

“Do you think Sadie will go to the Homecoming dance with me?” he asked your sister.

Your sister shrugged. “Depends. Is she desperate?”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” your brother said as your sister smirked. He pulled out a shiny, wrapped foil of pop tarts. “I’m serious. Do you know if anyone else has asked her?” He opened the foil and pulled out one pop tart. He turned and handed it out towards you. You smiled and hurried to catch up to them. You took the pop tart and immediately bit into it. The sweet taste of blueberry jam and hard surgery icing filled your mouth.

Your brother pulled the second pop tart out of the foil, broke it in half, and handed one piece to your sister.

She took her half. “How would I know?” She took a bite of her piece of pop tart.

“Because you’re in the same History class,” your brother replied.

“That doesn’t mean I talk to her,” your sister said before taking another bite.

You ate your blueberry pop tart while listening to your siblings talk about Sadie and the Homecoming dance. You didn’t chime in with any advice. You didn’t know who Sadie was. Most likely a girl in high school like your siblings. But it was fun to listen to them discuss the likelihood of your brother getting a date with this girl. By the time you reached your school, your sister had settled on the theory that Sadie would most likely agree to the date if every other boy in the school dropped dead.

Your siblings wished you a successful day before you parted ways. You walked your usual route into your school and through the busy hallways. Clusters of students clung to the long, noisy hallways. Their stares were all too familiar. Strange looks. Hushed questions that weren’t so quiet that you couldn’t overhear. No kid dared to leave their pack of friends to go near you. Despite the plain, ordinary clothes you wore, you also wore the stories of your father.

He was the random, misplaced red thread in a blanket of black. He stood opposed to the currents of the town. His beliefs were rooted securely in what many brushed aside as fantasies. He kept himself fairly busy within the confines of your home, but whenever fate drew him into the public an odd story would follow. One neighbor once saw your father out in a field, attempting to contact aliens. Another found him in their yard digging a hole to a secret bunker. There were countless stories, and they followed you wherever you went. You were his, and so, you must be strange too. It didn’t help that you rarely ever acted like the other kids. It was not intentional. If you could understand how to act like them, you would. But you didn’t. So every day you spent in this school, you spent it alone. Surrounded by strangers. Constantly feeling their judgmental stares digging into your back. Hearing the whispered rumors about you and your family.

When you reached your classroom, you went over to your desk at the far back side of the room. Your desk was positioned an extra foot off to the left as if the group of desks had just decided to push yours just a bit further away. You put away your belongings into your desk, hung your backpack on the back of your chair, sat down, and waited for the school day to begin.

You had your notebook open and you practiced your handwriting as the other students all filed in. Your whole family was in agreement that your handwriting was truly horrible. You needed to fix that, but you frowned at your latest attempts. All barely legible. Your disappointment lingered as the teacher called for the class’s attention. When you lifted your head up, every ounce of disappointment and every thought regarding your terrible handwriting vanished at the sight of her.

The girl with the blue hair.

“Class,” your teacher began. “This is Nat. She just moved here and will be joining our class. Let’s give her a warm welcome.”

As the rest of the class released a chorus of hellos, you sat silently, transfixed. The first, loudest thought in your mind was a simple question: how did she have blue hair? It was so cool. It reminded you of one of the characters out of your sister’s books. The ones she would tell you about right before bed. The second thought was that she was pretty. You couldn’t come up with a good comparison or truly unravel that thought completely. You just knew when you looked at her that she was really pretty. You liked that.

The teacher gestured to the empty desk closest to yours. Quietly, she crossed the length of the room and sat down at the empty desk. You watched as she pulled a notebook from her backpack before setting her bag down. Then, she looked over towards you. You felt your whole body tense up under her gaze. You didn’t know what to say. You wanted to blurt out the loudest thought in your head, but your mouth stayed shut tight.

“Hi.” Her greeting was soft and quiet.

You blinked and your mouth opened. “Hi.” When you felt the first sting of awkward tension, you looked away and back down at your notebook.

The morning creeped by rather uneventfully. Every so often you would look over at Nat who would be busy writing down notes like the rest of the class. You wondered if she recognized you from the other day. Whenever your attention was on your bad note taking, it would often break off and wonder about how to start a normal conversation with Nat. You had never been in such a weird position before. Wanting a connection instead of accepting the natural recoil. You hadn’t come up with any solid strategies by the time the lunch bell rang.

You pulled your brown bagged lunch from your backpack and followed your class down to the cafeteria. You lost sight of Nat during the shuffling of students, so you took your seat at your usual spot at the end of one of the long, blue-gray cafeteria tables. You opened up your brown bag and pulled out your aluminum foil wrapped sandwich. It was the only thing your father had packed for you. You unwrapped the foil. Your brow furrowed when you didn’t see any meat, or cheese, or anything poking out from between the twin slices of white bread. In fact, there was nothing at all between the slices. Just two slices of bread sitting one on top of the other.

You heard hushed giggles coming from further down the table. You looked over just as a few of your laughing classmates quickly looked away. Usually, this didn’t bother you. You were used to this. But you couldn’t deny the hurt starting to creep in. You wanted to say something. Do something. Anything to let out–

Someone sat down next to you. Whatever had started to build inside you washed away at the sight of her again. She started to open up her own bag, but stopped when she noticed the two slices of bread posing as a sandwich.

Her green eyes shifted to you. “Is that your lunch?”

“Uh,” was the first word out of your mouth before you looked down at the bread slices and then back up to Nat. “Yes. It’s my sandwich.”

“Where’s all the stuff in between?” she asked.

“I think my father forgot it,” you answered.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. It was already cut in half. “Here.” She offered one half of her sandwich to you.

You looked from her, to the offered half, and then back to her. “Are you sure?” When she nodded, you took it. You immediately took a big bite. The creamy taste of peanut butter brought a smile to your lips. “Thanks.”

Nat smiled and took a bite of her half of the sandwich. “What’s your name?”

You swallowed your second bite. “Y/N.”

“I think you live across the street from me,” Nat said.

Your smile grew tenfold and you nodded.

This seemed to amuse her as she chewed on another bite of her sandwich. “I remember you.”

“Me too,” you replied. “I like your hair.”

“Thanks,” she smiled.

Your conversation carried through your lunch. It was the first time your lunch had been more than just daydreaming between bites of food. You found yourself eagerly engaged in the bits and pieces that Nat shared about herself. You noticed that whenever you shared anything about yourself, she listened attentively without any judgment. You liked the sound of her voice. Whatever connection you had found felt strange and weird. But warm. And happy.

When lunch was over, you both walked back to class together. You were sad when you took your seats at your desks and returned to your lessons. You already missed this new piece of your life. You just wanted to sit and keep talking to Nat. You strangely got your wish when your teacher instructed the class to pair up for a project. As the rest of the class paired up like normal, Nat looked over towards you.

“Want to be partners?” she asked.

When you nodded, she maneuvered her desk to sit a bit closer to yours. Now both of your desks sat further away from the others. You had never conceived that such a day like this would come to pass. Yet here it was, and you couldn’t be happier.

Somewhere Else – 2010

The burn of the cold mountain air is the only chill you feel as you lift the axe above your head. The muscles in your back protest for the umpteenth time. It’s only been a week since the Amsterham job, and your body is still recovering from the aftermath. Being thrown across a lobby into a pillar wasn’t particularly fun. It wasn’t the worst abuse your body has been through. Barely a fraction of it. But it still sucked.

You bring the axe down onto the log in front of you. The sharp, curved blade cuts deep into the wood. The smell of pine needles carries on the wind as you yank the axe free from the log. Your bright red plaid shirt clings to your sweaty skin. Your hair is tied back in a messy, low ponytail as you lift the axe back into the air. Dark green cargo pants with the ends tucked into tan boots covers your legs.

You hadn’t intended to dress up like a lumberjack. You had thrown on your clothes after waking up with a sore back, stared at yourself in the mirror, and wondered what she was doing right now. You had slipped out of Amsterdam without issue. The media had covered the incident with varying degrees of accuracy. There were mentions of charred remains, but no mention of you. Or her. The two days it had taken you to travel to this little piece of woodland paradise had been spent looking over your shoulder. Waiting for her to catch up with you.

The disappointment you felt upon reaching this place in one piece was a real mood killer. The fun was over, and now you were just left with yourself. You needed to do something. So, here you were with an axe in hand chopping up firewood. But your thoughts still linger on her. You wonder if she’ll ever find you here. You certainly hadn’t left any clues behind.

Your axe swings back down into the log, and it breaks cleanly in half. You set your axe down upon the grass and toss the chopped wood onto a growing pile off to your right. Then, you grab another log and place it squarely on the stump. Your hands find your axe again. You can’t decide if you liked her blue hair more than the red. You know that you loved when she was on top of you. You raise your axe. Regret weaves into your thoughts. You should have enjoyed it more. What if you never see her again? You bury your axe deep into the log.

“You have outdone yourself again.”

Finally. You were wondering when he’d show up.

You look over towards your father. He steps down from the cabin’s back deck. His thick black hair is combed back and peppered with white strands. Sunlight bounces off a pair of thin, brown wire frame glasses that covers his eyes. He buries his hands into the pockets of a heavy, amber colored jacket as he casually walks towards you. The denim blue jeans he wears bears a few grass stains and dried mud mares his gray loafers.

You yank your axe free and smile. “I made the front page.”

Your father returns your smile with one of his own, yet it is small and his steel gray eyes remain cold. “I saw. Apparently a shooting between rival criminals turned into a deadly explosion. All dead. The hotel won’t reopen until late next year due to the large hole in their building.”

A small laugh escapes you as you shake your head. “That is giving them too much credit.”

Your father’s brow furrows. “Who?”

“The men you told me to kill,” you answer as your attention returns to the log in front of you. “They were not rival criminals. They were rich men who wanted more. They reached too far, and I made them go boom.” You raise your axe up and quickly bring it down onto the log. It splits in half. “Except for Tyler.” You look over at your father. “I shot him in the head.”

“What was so special about Tyler?” he asks.

You shrug. “Nothing. Just felt like it.”

Your father lets out a sigh and turns away from you. He takes a few steps away. His hand lifts up, and he runs his fingers through his hair. You set your axe down and toss the newly split wood towards the steadily growing pile of new firewood. You start to reach for another log, but your father turns back around and returns.

“This job was important.”

It is your turn to sigh as your interest in splitting the next log vanishes. You knew this was coming. The conversation was always the same whenever one of your jobs ended in a mess. You can’t help the way your eyes instinctively roll. Your father steps closer.

“These clients are important.”

“It was boring,” you lift your axe up and rest it against your shoulder.

“I do not care how boring it was, Y/N.”

“Of course you don’t.” Any trace of your earlier amusement is gone. “You did not have to do any of the work. I did. I had to spend four days with an arrogant stranger who smelled like cheap cologne and even cheaper bourbon.” Your father shakes his head and turns away from you, but you are far from through with your rant. “All that money, and he is a cheapskate. Did you know that the first thing he made me do was beat up his driver because he wore the wrong tie? And there was no backup. Who doesn’t have backup?”

Your father turns back to face you. “Are you done?”

“No,” you reply. “I wanted to kill him then. After the first twenty minutes. But no. The important clients don’t want to tackle their problems one at a time. They want everything all at once.”

“They wanted this job to be subtle.”

“I do not understand why you are upset with me because your clients had unreal expectations,” you reply.

Your father frowns. “Because I trained you to be better than this.”

You don’t have a clever response for that. You turn and start to make your way towards the cabin.

“They are also upset that you left one of them alive,” your father says after a moment.

You stop as you reach the cabin’s back deck. You look back over towards your father. “Then their information is bad. All the targets are dead. It will probably take awhile to identify all the bodies. Shifting through the rubble from the charred limbs takes time.” You set your axe down and lean it against the side of the wooden cabin.

“They’ve already identified all the bodies,” your father says as he follows you towards the cabin’s back deck. “The targets, their hired security, the SHIELD team.” His voice goes cold around the last three words.

You stare at your axe. You knew he was going to find out eventually. There was always a report after every one of your jobs. He knew of all your successes and all your weaknesses. It still doesn’t stop you from feeling that first hint of fear. Rooted in so many memories. Your gaze returns to your father. The frown he wears looks so natural upon his face.

“I did not know that they would be involved,” you say.

“None of us did,” your father replies. “Why did you leave one of them alive?”

You feel the fear more keenly now. It’s like he’s reaching out for your favorite toy. You know what he’ll do when he gets it. But it’s yours, and he doesn’t get to touch it.

“I didn’t–”

“Y/N!”

You jump slightly at the way your father’s voice explodes like the crack of a gunshot.

“It’s her, Dad.”

Your voice is small as confusion softens the hard lines of your father’s face. It’s as if you are back in Ohio seeing the girl with blue hair for the first time. It had stolen the breath from your lungs the first time you saw her. So loudly different from the peaceful town tapestry. You thought you and your siblings were the only ones who stood apart. But then she entered your life.

“It’s Nat,” you say when your father’s confusion persists.

And just like that, his confusion falls away and his eyes widen.

“The Russian spy?”

A small smile curls your lips. “I didn’t get a chance to ask if that was true.”

“Oh no.” Your father’s hand runs through his hair again before shaking his head. “This is not good.”

“Dad.” You step towards him. “This is wonderful. I thought my only friend had been murdered.”

“That’s because you will believe anything your oaf of a brother tells you,” your father replies. “That girl was a spy. That whole family was built out of secrets and lies. Allowing you to form an attachment with her was a mistake. She was a distraction for you then, and she remains a distraction now.”

“She did not distract me,” you lie. “I completed the job. Is it now against the rules to socialize with old friends?”

“If she is working with SHIELD then she is your enemy,” the familiar coldness of your father’s voice returns sharply. “She threatens our reputation with our clients.”

“How?” you ask. “She did not stop me from killing my targets. She did not stop me from escaping. She did not follow me here.” Each and every one of those facts were crushing disappointments. “Your reputation remains intact. Nothing will change. I will complete the jobs you give me to the best of my ability. What does it matter if I talk to her? She will not stop me.”

You wait for your father’s argument, yet he says nothing. The look he gives you is familiar. He is studying. Assessing. It reminds you of the countless grueling training sessions in the basement of your home in Ohio. You would be sprawled out on the floor, staring up at him, covered in sweat and sucking in lungfuls of air. Desperate for the training to stop.

Finally, your father lets out a sigh and digs his hand back into his coat pocket. He withdraws a square, white envelope and extends it out towards you. “Your next job. Straightforward. I expect clean results.”

You smile and reach for the envelope. But before you can grab it, your father pulls it away.

“She cannot be a distraction, Y/N.”

Your smile falters. You want to point out that you already explained why she wasn’t. You want to stress that she’ll never be able to stop you from completing your jobs. What happened in Amsterdam was the result of a really long, awful job. You want to say all this, but you don’t. You wish that you were ignorant of the reason. But you know why. Because you aren’t certain what would have happened if that explosion hadn’t happened. If it had just been you and Nat.

But, you nod, and your father hands over the envelope. You take it.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #my fanfic #fic: i swear that i don't have a gun

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skellymom · 4 months

Text

"Sunset Over Pabu"

Hunter X OC/Reader One Shot

Word Count: 910

Background: An "Old Love" relationship. Nostalgia. Saying Goodbye. Using planet and star interchangeably. The celestial body in this fic is a Moon, similar to our planet Mars it reflects light so the appearance is a shining star.

The inspiration for this story came from @lightspringrain artwork. Including the link to her Etsy shop and image of "Hunter's Moon"

https://www.etsy.com/listing/1556715876/star-wars-the-bad-batch-omega-or-hunter?ref=yr_purchases

There are parallels to the first time Mad met Hunter in this fic. To read how they met, here is the link:

https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/738467105361494016/vagabonds?source=share

Warning: Sadness.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

They snuggled close on that settee just as they did the first night meeting on Ord Mantell. In between trips off world, children, weddings, funerals, holidays, and all manner of life Hunter and Mad carved out while on Pabu to watch the sunset together. Approximately 10 standard cycles of building a bonfire on the beach and cuddling up together to watch the sky turn deep shades of crimson, purple, and eventually black. Gazing at the stars as they cycled by with the seasons in the night sky.

The broken settee was resurrected by Hunter’s own hands when they first settled. He built it strong enough for two. A solid foundation so it would never break again. Mad helped weatherproof it to withstand the ocean salt. Together, they performed maintenance when needed, so it would last for many years. A continuing project and labor of love.

In addition, a firepit was constructed to hold the burning heat kept within. Hunter and Mad collected stones on their travels around the galaxy. Bringing back chunks of memories to line into a continuing never-ending circle. Occasionally family and friends would add their own additions when returning to Pabu. Wrecker kept his eye out for oddly shaped or colored rocks while fishing and would surprise them with a new addition already stacked against the ring.

Tonight, Hunter had a bit of difficulty making his way down the stone steps to the beach. Mad took his hand, providing support. His long hair and beard had gotten greyer the last few months. She joked that he was almost as silver as her. The wrinkles and laugh-lines accumulated since being together, a happy long life for a clone prominent on his face. He smiled as she fussed about him being careful not to slip.

“Taking good care of me.”

“Of course, what else would I do.”

She winked, and he chuckled.

He told Mad tonight he’d forego their usual “Spotchka under the stars” and just do “The Stars” for tonight. The alcohol was wearing heavily on his system, making for extremely tiring mornings after...even with him cutting back considerably.

In the last few months, Hunter and Mad watched a vibrant moon make its transit across the heavens. It stood out amongst the other stars. Burning a brilliant red flicker that could be easily seen even though it was millions of light years away. The bright red star reached the zenith of its orbit and total brilliance tonight per Tech’s calculations.

“There’s YOUR moon, Hunky!” Mad pointed up above.

There was a number for this moon at one point. With millions of celestial bodies orbiting the galaxy, only numbers were given to keep track of them all. That wasn't good enough for Omega though. She named it “Hunter’s Moon” rotations ago before leaving on her own journey with Echo and Crosshair.

“Shame it’s the last night we’ll see it on Pabu.” Hunter mused.

Mad sighed. “Didn’t Tech say something about it being visible somewhere else?”

“Think he mentioned another planet not far from this one...” Hunter trailed off.

“Whattsamatter Hunky?”

He looked a little guilty “Not sure I’m up to traveling much any time soon.” He also sounded tired.

“Not in any hurry. We have a sky full of stars.”

“Mhmm, that’s my Mad... always thinking ahead.”

“It’s the wanderlust. Brain never shuts off.”

“I LOVE you, Maadienne.”

Mad smiled and squeezed his hand. “I LOVE you too, Hunky.”

They both gazed up at Hunter’s Moon.

“Make a wish, Mad!” Hunter said quietly.

They were both silent for a while. Then Hunter gently rested his head against hers.

She knew he wouldn’t come out and tell her his wish, that to tell it wouldn’t come true. Mad still liked to chide Hunter and try to playfully tease it out of him. It would end in tickling, laughter, hugs, kisses...and on less tiresome nights love making. On tiresome nights they fell asleep in each other's arms on the beach.

“Okay Hunky, spill the beans.” Mad hugged Hunter tighter. He didn’t reply.

“Hunky..?”

Mad brushed Hunter’s long locks away from his face. She gazed down at him, marveling at how the bonfire illuminated his hair, tattoo, dark skin. The face of a sleeping angel. A rhyme in time back on Ord Mantell all those years ago. The younger man who decided to buy her a drink in Cyd’s Parlor. A partner that travelled with her across the galaxy, helped care for her family, whose brothers adopted them all, and a partner that never left her side.

She caressed his face lovingly, immersing herself in the scent of his skin, hair, and...

...breath...?

Hunter’s chest had stilled. An expected, but heavy weight resting against her body, a bit heavier than his usual bodily presence.

“Oh...Hunter...Hun...” Mad suddenly hitched and exhaled, tears running down her face.

She knew this day would eventually come. And as the full rotations went on, she kept wishing on a certain red star that she could have another standard day with him. Every standard day she wished to have another.

But wishes only carry you so far...and there are only so many wishes granted.

And you must accept that the universe has other plans.

To believe in having just a moment of happiness instead of none.

Mad kissed Hunter’s forehead. “Aw, Hunky...we were REAL good... Weren’t we?

The red star above Pabu twinkled in reply to Mad’s words as she hugged Hunter for the last time.

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hedghost · 1 year

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alessia russo | white lies

five secrets alessia could keep (and one she just couldn’t)

first-time post from a long-time lurker. i absolutely did not intend it to be this long, so i apologise, but i wanted to do the idea justice! feel free to give me thoughts or requests :)

word count: 6.6k

one

famously, alessia could have her blonde moments. the occasional blank stare when she missed the tail end of a question, a furrowed brow as the punchline of a joke flew over her head.

honestly it didn’t bother her; so what if people thought she was slow? she knew her own intelligence. certainly, on the pitch, it was evident that she wasn’t stupid. she could be funny, she knew things, she spoke well, and she always made sure to think before she spoke. although that was less about seeming measured, and more because, if there was one thing alessia did know, it was the value of a secret.

after a few years in the spotlight, alessia had learned the hard way that there were certain things that were just better left under wraps. some things the media or the fans shouldn’t know, and some things best kept between friends. she kept a long mental list of secrets for different people, collecting them, and keeping them clutched to her chest. alessia took a small pride in knowing she was the one people went to, the one person they could trust with their darkest secrets.

alessia mused over her list as she drove to the stadium before the next match. mentally laying each secret out in front of her like a prized collection, dusting them off, and storing them back inside. the first she knew would be brought up again today, knew it would take her usual efforts to make sure it remained a secret.

walking into the changing room, alessia only narrowly dodged a flying shinpad that went clattering into the doorframe. alessia’s quick reactions only really served to cause her to lose her footing, just to be caught by your steady hands.

“oops, sorry less! i was aiming for tooney,” you smiled sheepishly, your hands still firm around her waist. alessia swallowed.

“idiots,” she laughed. you let go and stalked over to grab the wayward shinpad. this time, your throw found it’s mark, hitting ella squarely in the forehead and causing the changing room to erupt into laughter.

this was no real deviation from the team’s usual pregame ritual. typically, you and ella, ever the jokers, would engage in some play-fight of slapstick-esque proportions, entertaining the team while they all got ready. this of course meant you two then had to scramble to get changed as the rest of the girls walked out onto the pitch. alessia, who was never really found without at least one of her two best friends, would wait behind with you as you tied your boots.

you always had a lot of nervous energy before games, and ella’s constant faffing and time wasting as she collected her boots, tied her hair up for the billionth time, checked her mascara etc., would, without fail, mean you’d end up leaving the two of them behind, only for them to jog out and join you with seconds. this was the ritual, and alessia liked it.

“fucking hell, ella stop fannying about!” you whined.

ella, as always, was the last to put her boots on. she was combing back flyaways in the mirror, in just her socks. you and alessia watched on, fully kitted out by now. alessia leant back against the door and smiled as she watched you try to hurry ella on. she'd been through this many times before.

alessia knew the routine. she knew you would leave in a second, and she knew ella would stop dithering immediately after you did. and then, as always, she would tie ella’s bootlaces for her, and they would catch you up.

this was the big secret. alessia, to be honest, didn’t see the big deal, but ella was insistent that no one could ever find out, not even you. and as silly as alessia thought it was, and as much as she hated not telling you things, this was her duty as secret keeper and she did it diligently.

it had started years ago, long before you had arrived and turned the duo into a trio. ella had been in a state before an away match, refusing to tell anyone what had her fretting so much. alessia had taken her to the side, and it had slipped out; she didn’t know how to tie her own laces. her dad had always been at games, always tied them tight as a last good luck measure. in a flash, alessia had knelt at ella’s feet, tying the boots without saying a word. then she’d taken ella’s hand, and pretended not to see her swipe at tears as they walked onto the pitch together.

ella had found her before the next game, shyly asking her to repeat the action. alessia had done it without question, and just like that, it became their thing.

alessia had tried, of course, countless times to teach ella how to do it herself, but she suspected at some point it had become more superstition that anything. alessia had tied ella's boots once, and she’d played well, so now alessia would tie her boots forever. even now that many players preferred to play with laceless boots, ella never wavered. she said she just preferred the look, but alessia (and only alessia) knew the truth.

alessia watched on as you got increasingly impatient with ella. she smirked as you rolled your eyes once again.

"come on ella, if we leave now you might be in time for the second half,"

alessia had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. you were cute when you were frustrated. ella ignored you, still checking her reflection in the mirror, completely unfazed.

as annoying as ella was being, you felt bad that alessia was always the one to stay and deal with ella's antics. you were determined to remain, if only to give alessia moral support. little did you know that meant it was you who was holding up proceedings.

alessia, however, had been through this many times before and was practiced in the art of secret-keeping, and therefore distraction. she had a few tactics up her sleeve yet.

she looked over to where you leant against the doorframe, and flashed you her sweetest smile.

"y/n? i think i left my gatorade in the shower room, could you go grab it for me?"

as always, those eyes made you putty in her hands, and you pushed yourself off from the wall to go and look. as soon as you turned your back, alessia was knelt at ella's feet, her nimble fingers moving with practiced ease as they followed the path they'd traced countless times before. she was standing again by the time you returned.

"there's no gatorade in there less, are you sure its not in here?"

she flashed you a sheepish smile, putting on her best ditzy blonde impression, "oops, its right here! sorry y/n,"

you shrugged in response. before you could tell her not to worry, ella cut you off. she had moved to walk out the door, yelling over her shoulder as she did so,

"come on, what are you waiting for?"

you watched after her in exasperated incredulity as she exited the room. alessia laughed brightly at your expression, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you out to the field with her. ella's secret was safe for another day.

two

you and alessia settled in next to each other as you took your seats on the plane for the lionesses' next away game. the two of you had been thick as thieves for years, and you couldn’t deny that the thought of having alessia nearby had been a deciding factor in your recent transfer move. still, you treasured each quiet moment you spent in each other's company, as you had for years.

you and alessia hadn’t always been close. you’d known each other through the youth age groups of course, but your relationship only really went from acquaintances to close friends around the age of sixteen. sure, you loved your teammates and got on well with all of them, but you were a fairly shy teenager, keeping them at all at arms length, and often finding yourself only hanging around the edge of conversations.

alessia was a nostalgic person, and liked to reminisce often about the circumstances that had led to your close relationship.

when you were younger, seeing as how you typically kept to yourself, it was usually easy for you to sink into the background. although sometimes this was a point of insecurity, you relished the chance for solitude whenever it came to flights. you’d always been a particularly anxious flyer, and you appreciated that you could usually nab a seat at the back to yourself, allowing you to hide your panic.

usually you got away with it. usually, you could find a pair of seats to yourself, deal with the panic quietly and alone, saving yourself from embarrassment.

of course, at some point, your luck ran out.

“hey! mind if i sit here?” came a familiar voice. you looked up in surprise, but you knew whose bright blue eyes would be looking down at you well before your gaze found them. alessia gave you little time to respond before settling herself into the seat next to you with a sweet smile. you had no time to concoct some lame excuse. you could only nod, and accept your fate.

of course it was her. of course, out of anyone, it was the person who would be the sweetest about it, the most understanding. how embarrassing.

alessia didn’t seem to notice your internal panic, instead sweeping you up immediately into conversation. and for a while, it worked to distract you. you barely noticed take off, didn’t even flinch as your stomach dropped and ears popped, too enraptured in alessia’s bright conversation.

that is, until the first bout of turbulence. the plane rocked, and you stopped mid-sentence. mentally gathering yourself, you tried to calm down, managing to carry on as though nothing had happened. alessia didn’t seem to notice your plight. you’d got away with it. then the plane dropped again.

this time, alessia was quick to notice the way your breath caught, the way your arms held tight to the arm rests, the white knuckle grip you had on them. you vaguely heard her say something, but you couldn’t focus on her voice enough to comprehend. all you could do was try to regulate your breathing, stave off the panic long enough to preserve your dignity.

a gentle touch on your arm brought you back to reality, “y/n? are you okay?”

you tried to speak, to respond, but you couldn’t muster the words. you shut your eyes tight, trying to turn away from alessia.

“hey, hey,” she soothed, her hand over yours, “it’s okay, we’re safe, everything’s okay,”

you wanted to pretend it was all fine, but you were too far gone. you buried your head in your hands, tried to focus on alessia whispering to you to ‘breathe, just breathe’.

you don’t know how long you sat like that, her guiding you through blind panic with soft touches and gentle words. at some point, your hand found hers, and you clutched it like a lifeline as the plane rode out its last bits of turbulence.

eventually, your breathing returned to relative normal. you hesitated to look up and meet alessia’s eyes, instead burning holes into your clasped hands. you noted her perfectly done manicure, how the light caught each painted nail, how the soft skin of her fingertips felt caressing your calloused palms.

“you okay y/n?”

finally you tore your gaze away from her hands, only to be met with her eyes. you’d never noticed how strikingly blue they were. you nodded, swallowing harshly. you were sure she’d be able to feel your pulse rising in your joined hands, praying she’d chalk it up to your panicked episode, not something completely different.

“not a big fan of flying then?” she prompted.

“no, not exactly,” you laughed, mouth dry. as much as you hated to admit it, alessia’s presence had definitely calmed you. you were barely conscious of the fact you were still thousands of feet in the air.

“that’s okay, i’ll distract you,” you hoped you weren’t blushing . if only she knew, you thought, but alessia had already plowed on, chatting about god knows what to distract you.

she kept it up until you landed. as she stood up to exit the plane, she squeezed your hand and offered a small smile. she went to pull away, but you pulled her hand back,

“could you please not tell anyone about this?”

“course not,” she smiled “our secret.”

then she’d strolled off the plane as though she hadn’t just changed the course of your life.

from then on, alessia always managed to slip away from her other friends and wind up in the seat next to you. it had become a steady constant in your routines. you'd never had a bad flight since, and true to her word, alessia had never told a soul.

three

the perks of england camps were numerous. from the training, to the facilities, the matches, even the food, alessia enjoyed it all. arguably the best thing of all though, was the ample opportunities for downtime with the team.

alessia was nestled in between you and maya on a sofa, only half listening to leah and keira regale some embarrassing tale about georgia, involving a bad date and what sounded like a lot of alcohol. georgia was burying her head in her hands as the rest of the team dissolved into fits of giggles at the story. alessia laughed along, dropping her head to your shoulder as the conversation moved onto other player's poor tastes in partners and shitty date experiences.

"okay wait! lets all go around the circle and say our most embarrassing crushes!" alessia felt your shoulder stiffen underneath her at beth's suggestion, and she knew exactly why.

alessia herself had only found out by accident, stumbling in on you crying out the aftermath in the bathroom. she'd held you as you calmed down, before you made her swear not tell anyone.

the night had started out well enough. you both were at an 18th birthday party for one of your england teammates. you'd joked around with all the other girls, dancing and singing, and drinking probably a little too much. the alcohol would end up being a bad idea, especially for you.

the girl who's birthday it was had an older sister in her early twenties. aged 17 and a bit, you were absolutely infatuated with her. you'd met her a few times before at games and training, she was cool and collected, and you were obsessed. the fact she would be in attendance at the party had definitely been a factor in your outfit choices, and probably in the amount of alcohol you had downed with alessia and ella at pres.

the whole night long, you were hyper aware of her presence in the room. too shy to ever make a move, you stuck to longing glances and daydreamed fantasies.

your downfall was soon to come though, when one of the older girls suggested an innocent game of spin the bottle. most of you were well past tipsy at this point, and so you all agreed readily. you laughed as your teammates kissed each other one by one; the messy, inexperienced kind of kisses only drunk teenagers could perfect. soon enough it was your friend's sister's turn, and you couldn't help the prayers you mentally uttered.

you would decide later that whoever answered those prayers had a sick sense of humour. the bottle landed on you. you leant forward, trying to contain your excitement. it was only a peck, but to you it was fate and poetry rolled into one. the game continued on, but all you could think about was the feel of her lips against yours. soon, the game faded into non-existence, as people began to get distracted and get up to refill drinks or amuse themselves elsewhere. you saw your crush slip out into the garden, and instilled with misplaced confidence from the peck, you saw your opening.

stepping into the cool air, you were relieved to see she was alone. you approached, placing a shaking hand onto her arm.

"oh hey-" you cut her off, pressing your lips against hers. it barely lasted a moment, before she pushed you off, nothing short of disgust on her face.

"woah there! i'm not a fucking lesbian!" she turned on her heel and stalked back inside, only stopping to utter one last crushing remark, "and i don't kiss kids!"

to your teenage self, it was an earth-shattering rejection. you managed to make it to an empty bathroom before you broke down. your ears rang with her comments as your cursed your own stupidity. in your rush to be alone, you'd forgotten to lock the door, and you jumped when gentle hands wrapped you up into a hug.

alessia had been watching you all night. she'd seen the glances you cast over at your friend's sister, before she lost sight of you after the ill-fated game. that was until she saw you duck into a bathroom, cheeks red and head bowed. she'd followed in a heartbeat.

alessia's heart ached for you as you sobbed into her shoulder. the sting of rejection had worn off, leaving space only for pure embarrassment.

"i'm such a fucking idiot," you mumbled into her shoulder when the tears had stopped.

alessia pressed her lips to your hair, "no you aren't, don't be silly," she knew the pain of unrequited crushes all too well. she knew the way they consumed you, blinded you to sense. "shh, it'll be okay," she murmured, "don't cry, its okay,"

"oh god, i bet she's already told everyone how weird and gross i am. i can never show my face again,"

alessia laughed at your dramatics, "shall we go home?" she said, and you nodded wearily, "let's go,"

as it turned out, the girl hadn't told anyone, and you'd been in the clear. the secret stayed between you and alessia, the single witness to your most embarrassing night.

alessia knew you didn't want anyone to know about that, even now, six years later. she also knew you well enough to know that instead of coming up with an alternate answer to beth's question, you were likely frozen, reliving your embarrassment. she had to think fast to preserve your secret. everyone laughed as rach shamelessly announced her childhood crush on some celebrity she'd never heard of, and then everyone turned to you expectantly. alessia cleared her throat.

"pretty sure y/n used to fancy that woman off countdown," she lied, and the room erupted into laughter once again. thankful for lessi's quick save, you groaned and buried your head in your hands, going along with her white lie. crisis averted. alessia carried on, giving her own fake answer about a boy from school. a practiced lie. once the group's attention had passed on from the two of you, she felt you grab her hand. you squeezed her fingers in thanks, and she squeezed back. she was getting good at this lying business. anything for you, and your secrets.

four

alessia was widely regarded as an excellent friend; someone who could be depended on, completely and utterly trusted without question. alessia knew this, and held such compliments with high regard. she had long ago cemented her place as someone to be trusted within her circle, and therefore concentrated her efforts in keeping that reputation. she knew her friends just thought she was a good secret keeper because it was in her nature, that she was just a good person through and through.

alessia herself knew however, that the reason she placed such strong value on other people’s secrets was because she had been keeping one of her own for far, far longer than she had kept any of theirs.

it had first become apparent as a teenager. as she listened to her friends fawn over their latest male obsession, or regale their recent kisses with boys at parties, or debate who the hottest boy in class was. she tried her best to engage, to get involved, but with every boy who came close to kissing her, she was finding it harder and harder to force interest. eventually, she came to realise the way she felt about certain teammates, the way she'd avert her eyes in the changing room, the way her gaze followed pretty girls in the hallway, wasn't the norm. the realisation had hit her like a truck. alessia russo was gay, and she had no clue what to do about it.

she kept the feelings buried for a while. she faked attachments to boys, tried kissing a few just to throw her friends off the scent, before eventually she stopped bothering. she said she was too busy with football to date, and that remained her excuse. that didn't stop her falling head over heels for multiple girls over the years, didn't stop her heart fluttering whenever certain people looked her way. a certain someone.

eventually, especially playing women's football, a lot of her friends started to come out. alessia knew she could've done the same, knew she'd be met with no judgement, but it was as though there was a mental block stopping her. as outgoing as she was, she didn't enjoy opening herself up. and so, never one to wear her heart on her sleeve, she guarded the secret closely. months turned into years, and it became just something she did. she was too far gone to announce it now.

she knew she'd tell people at some point in her life, but why bother when there was no girl on her arm to show off?

and it wasn't like she hadn't come close. especially to you, who had been open about your sexuality for years. alessia couldn't count how many times she'd opened her mouth to tell you, only for the words to catch in her throat. it was almost as though she'd left it too late now, built it up in her head, and the moment just never seemed right.

she'd been with girls before of course. in dark corners at clubs where no one would see, fumbled kisses with strangers in bathrooms. but never anything deep, never the connection she ached for.

alessia listened as you complained to her about your recent date with the latest girl. 'a complete dead end', you described it, 'like talking to a brick wall,' you laid your head across her lap and shut your eyes.

"god, i wish the girls i dated were more like you less. then i'd actually have something to talk about with them," alessia swallowed, her fingers working their way through your hair. god, if only you knew.

five

being gay wasn't the only secret alessia held close to her chest. there was another, far worse, far more guarded. the secret that kept her awake at night, that spiked guilt deep in her stomach whenever you smiled at her. painful memories of that fateful night, which she wished more than anything you would remember.

it happened at the celebration party last summer. the lionesses had been victorious at the euros, and euphoria was running rampant amongst the whole team. everywhere you looked, people were drunk off elation. the drinks had started flowing in the changing rooms, and they had kept coming ever since.

the constant flow of people meant you and alessia had only spent passing moments together. every time you seemed to find each other in the crowd, someone new would turn up and pull one of you away, with ecstatic congratulations, or the promise of a drink.

in a brief break from dancing, alessia found herself sat at the bar with ella and a few others. she sipped her drink as the others chatted excitedly. recently, she'd been finding that her eyes sought you out unconsciously. more and more, she'd been realising that wherever you were in a room, she'd notice. tonight was no different. her gaze finally landed on you, carefree and dancing amongst a crowd of people.

usually, she had the sense to not stare for too long, but with her inhibitions hindered by the drinks, and her mood high off the back of the win, she allowed herself a moment of grace. the soft smile that crept onto her face as she looked longingly after you was unbidden, but she didn't care to look away. alessia was sure that if anyone followed her eyeline she'd be found out, but everyone was too wrapped up in their own elation to bother.

across the crowd, your eyes met hers. you grinned widely, before freeing yourself from the crowd just long enough to grab her hand and pull her onto the dance floor. emboldened by the alcohol, she let herself dance a little closer than she usually would, let the touches linger a little longer.

neither of you knew how long you danced, just riding the wave of the win for as long you could. alessia could tell you were equally as drunk as she was, if not more. eventually, you leaned closer to be heard over the music,

"come with me to get some air?" alessia could only nod, hyper aware of your breath on her cheek. she let herself be led away by you, into the cool summer air.

you all but collapsed onto a bench, laughing as you clumsily pulled alessia down with you. you leant into alessia, her arm finding its familiar place around your shoulders as you let the comfortable silence descend. it was the early hours of the morning by now. alessia could hear the thump of music and shouts of people from inside, but out here, you were completely alone. despite her lack of sobriety, she was hyper aware of the way your body felt against hers.

"what a night hey," you laughed, and she nodded. "we fucking did it less!"

"champions of europe baby!" you yelled into the night, making alessia laugh and slap your arm.

you smiled, leaning back into alessia, "proud of you lessi" you whispered. when she didn't respond, you shifted to look at her.

"i'm serious less. i'm so proud of you. proud of us."

alessia couldn't find the words to respond. she could only think about how close your face was to hers. you smiled softly, and she smiled back. her eyes never left yours. you seemed to be breathing in sync. it was now or never. the alcohol spurring her on, alessia began to speak,

"y/n, i-"

she was cut off by you leaning in to close the gap. her eyes fluttered shut as your lips grazed hers, and she melted into the kiss. you pulled back to assess her reaction, but alessia barely gave you a second to breathe before she kissed you again. alessia poured all the years of pining, every pent up emotion into that kiss, and you gave her everything and more back. her brain short-circuited as your hand went to caress her cheek, her own hands fumbling clumsily to wrap around your waist.

at some point, one of you broke away. you pressed your forehead to hers, "we should probably get back to the party," alessia nodded. she was caught in a haze of euphoria. she would've done anything you asked in that moment; would've chased you to the moon and back. you smiled, before pressing your lips to her forehead and pulling her to her feet.

alessia would've liked to stay attached to your hip all night, but as soon as you re-entered the party you were both swept away by your respective friends, and she was left staring after you. the rest of the night was a blur, but alessia had truly never been happier.

alessia woke the next morning to the memory of your lips against hers. her head pounded with the hangover as she dragged herself out of bed and over to your room next door. it was customary for the two of you to end up in each others rooms after a heavy night to discuss the events and ride out the hangover together, but today, her heart pounded as she knocked on your door. she wasn't sure what the events of last night meant for your friendship, but she was running through various speeches and declarations as she waited.

eventually you cracked the door open, peering out at alessia with bleary eyes. "morning," you whispered with a smile, opening the door fully for alessia before collapsing back into your bed.

alessia followed you in, mouth dry and heart pounding as she perched next to you on the bed. she decided to let you take the lead with the conversation, though she ached to bring up the kiss.

"god, what even happened last night," you moaned from the covers, "i don't remember a thing,"

alessia's heart dropped to her stomach. "you don't remember anything?" she asked. you looked up at her curiously.

"i mean, i remember dancing, and then, literally nothing," your eyes widened, "oh god, did i do something embarrassing? lessi, please say i didn't."

alessia forced a smile onto her face, forced herself to push down the emotions coursing through her veins, "no, you didn't do anything," she forced herself to settle further into your bed.

"nothing at all,"

plus one she couldn't

after the euros, and the ensuing heartache, alessia had tried to distance herself from you. she'd lasted all of a week of subdued contact before you'd pulled her back in again. she couldn't resist you or your company, utterly powerless to do anything but come running back to your side like a lost puppy. you didn't even have time to notice something was up.

and so alessia settled back into your orbit, and tried unsuccessfully to get over you. despite how you'd acted that night, you once again gave her no indication of seeing her as anything more than a best friend, and so she tried her best to see you the same. she longed to bring up the kiss, to do anything to remind you, but your clear lack of memory told her that it hadn't meant anything to you.

playing together for club and country, you spent nearly all your days together. alessia spent each of those days in silent turmoil. her heart would pound with each innocent touch, her brain would malfunction every time you flashed her a smile. only at night, in the quiet of her room, would she allow herself to feel. she'd stare at the ceiling into the early hours of the morning, replaying each encounter, eyes glistening with unshed tears. she envied you for not remembering the kiss. god how she wished she could forget it. it replayed behind her eyelids every time she blinked: she felt the brush of your lips against hers every time she glanced down at your mouth as you spoke.

since it became apparent that it couldn't have meant anything to you, she'd done her best to get over you. but now that she'd experienced it, she could never go back. her love for you had swelled to the point of utter consumption, and she couldn't even begin to remember what it felt like to see you only as a friend.

being as experienced in the art of secret keeping as she was, she'd managed to keep you in the dark, but it was getting harder and harder to act like everything was okay. whilst you remained clueless to her plight, other people were starting to notice.

alessia was finally caught out after a particularly bad day. training had been rough, the weather was awful, and the stress and emotion of it all was starting to become too much for her. her heart ached for you every time you laughed. every time you called her name it was like a stab to the chest. she winced as she felt the beginnings of a headache, desperate to leave the training ground and crawl into bed as soon as she could.

noticing something was wrong, you'd rubbed her back and pulled her in for a hug.

"you okay less? headache?" you'd murmured, trying to meet her eyes. normally she revelled in how well you could read her, but right now, she hated it. she could only nod in response. you reached a gentle hand up to touch her forehead, "are you coming down with something?"

alessia wanted so badly to relax into your familiar embrace and sink into the comfort she craved, but she pulled away, ignoring your question and mumbling a lame excuse about getting home, before speeding to her car.

hearing someone chase after her, she steeled herself to face you again. instead, when she turned, she was met with ella.

"lessi, what's wrong?"

"nothing, ella, it's just been a long day," she sighed. she turned to get into her car, but ella blocked her path.

"don't bullshit me lessi, i know you. you think i haven't noticed how weird you've been acting lately?"

the confrontation was too much. alessia could feel tears begin to prick at the corner of her eyes, and she knew there was no escaping it.

"not here," she mumbled, opening the car door and motioning ella to get into the other side. she barely gave ella time to sit down before she drove off, only making it to the end of the road before the tears started flowing. she pulled over and buried her head in her hands.

ella didn't seem to know what to do, clearly she hadn't expected alessia to do this. her shock was only momentary though, and her hand reached out to stroke alessia's back.

"hey, hey, its okay, less, its okay. talk to me,"

alessia could only shake her head against her hands.

"i can't do this anymore ella, i just can't,"

ella just rubbed her arm, clueless to what she was talking about. in ella's presence, she let her facade fall apart a little.

"it's so stupid, i'm so stupid."

"is this about y/n?"

alessia whipped her head up to look at ella, who smiled wryly.

"you aren't very good at hiding it less,"

"fuck, i just-" she pressed her head into her hands again. "it's so embarrassing. i just don't know what to do. i can't keep doing this, it just- it hurts,"

"i think you need to tell her,"

"that's the worst possible solution to this ella,"

ella smiled again and raised an eyebrow, "i wouldn't be so sure,"

"you're an idiot, and your advice is awful," alessia muttered. she breathed deeply, collecting herself, before starting the car again, "i'm dropping you home, and we're forgetting this conversation ever happened,"

"whatever you say, less," said ella, smirking as she leant back in her seat, "whatever you say,"

despite her best efforts, the conversation with ella stuck in alessia's mind all week. even you were starting to notice how distracted she was being, and you brought it up one night, as you lay sprawled in your usual position on her sofa.

"have you been avoiding me lessi?" you joked, but alessia caught the flash of doubt in your eyes. she mentally cursed herself, once for not hiding it well enough, and then again for making you feel guilty about it. she decided she could only attempt to laugh it off.

"what are you talking about? we've literally been together all day."

"no, yeah i know, but you just seem, i don't know, distracted? closed off," alessia felt your head turn to look up at her, but she kept her own gaze firmly planted on the tv screen.

"i'm fine. just tired. its been a long week," she knew as soon as she said it that you'd see right through the flimsy excuses.

"well okay, but, you know you can always talk to me, yeah? if there was something bothering you?" your voice trailed off. alessia swallowed harshly. when she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper.

"i can't,"

at this, your full attention was on her, the tv long forgotten. alessia felt sick at her own barely there confession.

"lessi, come on. you can tell me anything. i'm your best friend,"

that was the last straw. best friend, she reminded herself. any hope alessia still had of preserving her dignity flew out the window, and she had to press her lips together to keep from crumbling. you saw her falter, and you sat up in a heartbeat, your hands taking hers. alessia tried to pull away, but the grip you had on her was magnetic.

"y/n, i-" she bit her lip, shaking her head and looking away. if she spoke she'd say something she'd regret. the confession was on the tip of her tongue, just begging to be let out. alessia resolved herself, mentally replaced the confession with another white lie. but then she looked up, and her eyes met yours. god, those eyes. alessia was taken back to the night of the kiss, when she'd been enraptured in those same eyes; when she'd looked into them to find the brazen reflection of her own adoration.

it was all she could do to look away. she felt her mouth move, heard her own voice as though from a distance, speaking completely unbidden.

"i'm in love with you,"

they were the truest words she'd ever uttered, but god how she wished she could take them back. her brain raced with excuses, but she could only whisper disconnected thoughts and jumbled apologies. she regained just enough control over her words, but the damage was done.

"i know you don't feel the same - i'm sorry - i didn't want to make it weird - i'm sorry - please don't let this ruin us - i'm sorry."

alessia didn't dare look at you; your silence was indication enough. however, as always, alessia could never stay away from you for too long. as she braved one glance up, her words fell away from her.

you stared back at her, looking at her as though she'd hung the moon and all the stars.

"alessia," you whispered her name like a prayer on your tongue, "you have no idea how long i've wanted to hear you say that,"

years of pining, of heartache, of sleepless nights and longing glances, had not prepared alessia for this outcome. she stared at you, frozen in shock. all the fight, all the panic, had abandoned her, and she could only stare.

you leaned in, and she let herself fall into the kiss. she'd thought nothing could've been better than the first, but my god was she wrong. with one touch, you silenced all her doubts. you poured out the answer to every question she had. the two of you curled impossibly closer into each other, until alessia wasn't sure how you could've ever been separate.

you smiled against her lips, eyes blissfully remaining shut.

"why didn't you tell me sooner?"

alessia shrugged shyly, "it was a secret," you pulled away fully, eyes searching deep into hers.

"not anymore," you said, and alessia flashed a bright smile. your heart flipped at the sight.

"no," she murmured, "never again."

thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed :)

#alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo imagine #engwnt #woso x reader #woso fanfics #muwfc x reader

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angelsworks · 1 year

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Happy Birthday Klaus Mikaelson x Pinkie Pie! Reader

Type: Challenge One shot

Challenge Masterlist -> Here

Summary: You celebrate Klaus’ birthday, much to his displeasure.

Warnings: Nothing really , mentions of violence

If you could do anything for anyone it would be making them feel special. In a world practically bursting with people, it’s easy for some to fall through the cracks. Into the lonely abyss of forgotten. While you enjoy time to yourself, sometimes it’s too much.

The feeling of not being connected to anyone had deeply upset you since you were young. Maybe it was friends never trying with your relationship, or busy parents or teachers never bothering to learn your name because of your quiet nature. All of it combined really brought you down.

Until it didn’t and it instead pissed you off. You channeled how you felt to become more sociable in high school, using it as your chance to start again. You spoke with everyone no matter the clique or social status. Determined that no one in your reach would feel like you.

Naturally this filtered into celebrating birthdays. Whether it was bringing in presents or cards to any and everyone you’d spoken to. People in your class, in your after school groups, on your street. By sophomore year you’d cemented your position as the peppy party planner who was always the life of the party.

You’d kept that up all the way till senior year. Happy to make others happy. You kept a list of everyone birthday. Always staying on top of them. So why did everyone expect you to exclude Klaus Mikaelson from your list?

“I just don’t get it, how do you even know his birthday?” Caroline asked, before stabbing a piece of cake on her paper plate.

You smile as you pack away some blue solo cups, “I know everyone’s birthday.”

The blonde gives you a questioning look.

You laugh, “Maybe I’ve got some Bennet blood in my veins and I’m psychic.” You muse.

Caroline rolls her eyes, “When you can light candles with your mind let me know.”

“If I could, I still wouldn’t be able to put enough candles on Klaus’ cake.” The party had been for one of the girls in your art class. She’d asked if you’d help make it a memorable birthday and you could do nothing but deliver.

“I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. There’s all that stuff that happened with him and what if he like, I dunno, kills you?”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes at your friend. “That was ages ago. Now him and Elena are practically on speaking terms. Rebekah had no problem when I brought her a cake.”

Caroline chokes on the freshly frosted piece of blue birthday cake. One you’d made especially for Emily. From the rest of the decorations and the dress code, anyone could tell that was her favourite colour.

“Rebekah Mikaelson? She’s crazy. The amount of times she’s tried to kill me, to kill Elena.” She starts to rant.

It was true the Mikaelsons had brought trouble into town with them. Klaus was desperate for Elena’s blood, ready to kill anyone who stopped him. He and his family often clashed with Caroline and her friends. Occasionally you too, yet you tried to stay out of it.

After all parties had gotten what they wanted, with much mediation on Elijah’s part and changing of the a spell on Bonnie’s, they managed to reach an agreement.

“It was all smoother over, what it not?” You ask her, still busy packing away decorations. “Aren’t you meeting Elena today?”

Caroline raises her eyebrows in shock and practically throws her cake down. She takes a napkin to wipe her face, then starts to collect her stuff.

“You are totally right. Elena wants me to help Jenna pick out an outfit for her and Ricks anniversary.” She tells you.

“Thank you so much for this. Just be safe with Klaus okay. Don’t do anything reckless.” You wave her off, finally being able to stack boxes of party supplies together.

You say your goodbyes and watch the blonde hurry off. It doesn’t take long to pack all the items away. You see Emily before you leave. She’s clearly having a good time, with more than juice in her solo cup. She slurs her goodbye and thanks you extensively, at one point wrapping her arms around you in a jumble of a hug.

For Klaus’ cake you decided to go simple. Well simple ish. It was a plain enough cake that said happy birthday in white buttercream. It was covered in a blue fondant. When you finish you realise how boring it looks. While you don’t want to push your limits with this cake, you also want to go above and beyond for Klaus.

You’d heard of his tales, of what he’d done in the past. You’d also seen him around town. Always alone. It seemed he didn’t have all that many friends, outside of his siblings. Even they didn’t act like friends.

It reminded you of how you felt all those years ago. Alone and sad. Lonely in a town so small you’d bump into teachers all the time. Sometimes in the most inconvenient locations.

So you added extra details. You fashioned a brush and paint pallet out of fondant. Arranging it carefully on top of the cake. When you were satisfied with your work you put the cake in the box and in the fridge.

You wrote out a card and packed his present in a small bag. The present in question was a pack of small canvases and brushes. You knew he liked to paint. Once you’d seen his work on the wall of the Mikaelsons house. It was a large piece, portraying a field of flowers and a serene sky filled with the colours of a sunset. It was truly marvellous.

Yet it got you thinking, what about little canvases? Little piece of work that wouldn’t be as large a project, but could require just as much detail and precision for the small space.

Eyes wide and lips pulled up to smile brightly, you walked through the door of the bar. It was a little difficult with the large cake in your hands and present and card bag dangling from your arm, but your managed. You searched for Klaus, finding the man in a booth in a the corner of the bar. He sat alone of course, nursing a glass of scotch.

He didn’t look up when you walked towards his table. The bar was fairly empty and he was clearly in his own world.

You place the cake down on the table, then pulled the bag of your arm, placing it down next to it. Then you sit opposite him in the booth, moving the items on the table aside slightly so you can see Klaus.

Klaus’ eyebrows knit together in confusion. He knew you of course. Noticed you at his family’s ball and around town. He’d heard Rebekah gushing about you to Elijah. Talking about how happy she’d been when you brought her a cake and made her feel special.

“What all this Love?” He asks. You try not to let the pet name mean anything. While Klaus is an extremely attractive person you’re here for a purpose.

“Happy birthday!” You smile wildly then pull out a party blower from your pocket, giving it a blow. Much to the other patrons (not that there are many) displeasure.

He lets a small smile grow on his face, “Sorry love, but I think birthdays stop counting after you move into a four digits age.”

You shake your head, “No way. If you’re immortal then so is your birthday buddy.”

“Buddy?” He asks incredulous.

You push the bag towards him. To which he cautiously peels back the the tissue paper and pulls out the contents.

“They’re mini canvases.” You tell him. Then explain how you’ve see his work - which you think was really beautiful - and how you though painting a smaller canvas would be a different challenge and a change for him. He nods along. Almost entranced by what you’re saying.

“That’s really thoughtful, love. Thank you. I can’t remember the last time anyone celebrated my birthday.” He told you earnestly. Genuinely so appreciative of your kind gesture.

“Well that’s a real shame Klaus.” For a moment your eyes connect and you feel rooted in place. You try not to blush so instead move on to remove the cover of his cake.

“Now don’t get too upset, but there aren’t any candles on your cake. I think it would be a little difficult to fit over 1000 candles on there.” He laughs. Eyes move to appraise the cake. They widen in surprise at the detail on the cake and the paint pallet and paintbrush you’ve created.

“This looks amazing love. Thank you.” It’s the first time you’ve seen Klaus Mikaelson smile. It’s genuine and lights his face. For a moment he doesn’t look like some scary vampire. He looks like a man enjoying his birthday.

“Happy Birthday Klaus Mikaelson. Have a great day.” You say, reaching a hand out to his own.

Time seems to slow as you stare into his eyes. Your hands entwine and your heart skips a beat. You notice how there’s some green in his dark blue eyes. For a moment they shine gold.

It’s enough to bring you out of your daze. You move to stand only for Klaus to stop you.

“Aren’t you staying for a piece?”

#angelsworks post #klaus mikaelson headcanon #TVD #klaus x reader #mlp au #mlp challenge #klaus Mikaelson x reader #tvd oneshot #klaus mikaelson one shot

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myhairpintrigger · 1 year

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No Subtle Feeling (aleksander morozova x fem!reader)

In which the Lantsov princess finds herself alone at a party and one of her dearest friends comes to her aid.

READ PART TWO HERE

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this wasn’t a request. It’s something I’ve been working on for a hot minute. I promise I’ll keep getting to my requests! But in the meantime, please send new ones in!

Warnings: none! Very soft!

Word count: 4.3k!

You didn’t mind parties.

Really, you didn’t. You’d grown up attending high end events and parties and balls and such. It just came along with your status as the youngest daughter of the King. The title of Princess didn’t really bother you either, and you weren’t going to lie and say that you were displeased to be called as such. You stood silently in the middle of the seamstress’s room while she carefully knelt in front of you to adjust your skirt so that you weren’t tripping over the fabric all night long.

“That wealthy land owner from Ketterdam is coming tonight. Your brother mentioned you two have been in good acquaintances since your mother’s birthday banquet.” The seamstress mentioned casually and you looked down at the small woman in front of you and you shrugged once.

“I suppose he is, isn’t he?” You answered distractedly before you turned your head towards the decadent window behind you, peering out at the decorations that were being hung in the courtyard and you let out a sigh, “Everyone is coming to this party, you know. It’s ridiculously big, I’m not sure how to feel about that.” You mused and the seamstress simply chuckled and gave your dress a little tug to pull the soft satin taut.

“Yes. Vasily did mention that, as well. You usually are more enthused for these parties, Your Grace. Is something troubling you?” She asked and you slowly tore your eyes away from the window.

Something indeed was troubling you. You knew this particular party was going to be grand and well attended by the most influential people within a hundred miles because you were to be proposed to.

The problem wasn’t your soon-to-be fiancé, he was just fine, the problem was that you didn’t necessarily want to be wed yet, you didn’t want to be whisked away with a new man away from your home and your family. You realized that you never answered the seamstress and you gave her a little shrug, “I’m alright. Perhaps I just didn’t sleep as well as I should have last night.” You said airily and then went silent again, tapping your fingertips against the sides of your dress. About twenty more minutes of silence later, the seamstress rose to her feet and she looked you up and down once before she gave you an approving nod.

“Alright, Princess. Can you walk well in that?” She asked and you took a few steps around the center of the room, the dress swishing gracefully against your ankles but fell no lower. You looked up at her and gave her a polite nod and you leaned in to give the woman a thankful kiss on the cheek.

“You’re a doll. Thank you for your services today.” You said gratefully and she waved her hand and told you to hurry along, which you did with no arguments. You maneuvered your way around the little tables and trays that were scattered all over the room and stepped out into the hallway. You smoothed down your skirts as if doing this would brush your stresses and anxieties away and continued on your way down the hall, knowing it was probably time for you to get your hair fixed up and you picked up your walking pace and made a sharp turn around the corner. You were abruptly stopped when you smacked face first into someone’s chest and you gasped and stumbled back, only to be caught by two very cold, firm hands. You flickered your apologetic gaze upwards to begin your apology when your eyes fell upon the normally apathetic face of General Kirigan. His indomitable expression melted into one of amusement, and the corners of his lips curled into a smile before he let out a quiet laugh.

“General, I am so sorry, I was not paying attention at all-“ you began but the Black General simply held his hand up to silence your apology and you abruptly stopped talking, only to let out a relieved sigh and a breathy laugh.

“Air headed as ever, I see.” Kirigan commented, and his own smile grew upon hearing your laugh, “Where are you headed in such a hurry, y/n?” He asked, now clearly very amused.

You were relieved that it had only been him and you shook your head in exasperation, “Up to my room. If my mother gets there before me she’s going to beat me with a stick.” You explained and looked the Grisha General up and down a few times and your smile only got bigger when you realized he was dressed for the occasion, “You’re coming to the party?” You asked excitedly, becoming suddenly very aware that the General’s hands were still carefully clasped around your arms, but the grip was now loose and the touch was so casual that it was almost affectionate, his fingertips so delicately resting against your much warmer skin.

Perhaps both of you realized this at the same time, because he didn’t answer you right away. Instead he looked down at your dress and let his eyes slowly travel upwards until they were on your face again and you had an unobstructed view of his near-black eyes. Perhaps he was gauging your reaction to his touch the same way you were gauging his reaction to touching you, because he opened his mouth just slightly as if he wanted to speak but closed it soon after. The silence swirling around the two of you was as loud as a room full of partygoers and finally, he broke the tangible reticence and dropped his hands away from your arms, and you felt the slightest bit of what you could only identify as disappointment.

“Yes. Of course I’m going. Anyone of importance was invited and I just so happen to be important, wouldn’t you agree, Princess?” He asked, his tone still playful and light despite everything.

Your words stuck to your tongue and you stared at him dumbly for just a moment before you shook your head once, “Depends on who you’re asking, General.” You quipped back and this made him laugh again, a sound you seldom heard from his mouth, and it almost didn’t seem real, coming from him. He was normally so quiet and concise, and he had to be as a man in his position should, but you’d found an unlikely friend in the typically stoic general in the years since you’d turned nineteen.

“Well, good thing I didn’t ask you.” He replied, mirroring your lighthearted tone, “I’ve heard a rumor about this evening. Is it true?”

For some reason, his words made your stomach sink and you looked down at the ground and kicked at the marble floors, “I don’t know. I hope not.” You mumbled and then you rubbed your face and shook your head, “No, wait. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m only nervous, that’s all.” You corrected and then glanced back up at him, all playfulness expelling itself in the presence of a new subject.

“Will he make a good husband?” He asked plainly and you almost chuckled, whether it was an inability or a blatant refusal to mince words, he always got straight to the point.

“Does it matter even if he wouldn’t? I’ve met him three times now, so I guess that means he’s a good candidate for my hand. If you ask Vasily or my father, he’s great.” You answered and then he studied your face for a moment.

“Has anyone asked you?”

The question took you aback and echoed in your mind like a grand bell and you nervously chewed on the inside of your cheek, and he took this as his answer and he laid his hand on the back of your head and brought you towards him so that he could leave the lightest of kisses on your forehead before he let you go and moved back a step.

“They’d be wise to. Ask you, I mean. You’re one of the most insightful and intelligent people I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.” His jaw shifted a bit and this didn’t go unnoticed by you. You couldn’t tell if he was complimenting you or giving you a cryptic goodbye but you decided to take it as the first option.

“Well, put in a good word for me, maybe then they’ll start asking for my opinion.” You sighed and he turned his head to the side and nodded towards the grand staircase.

“You ought to go before your mother has reason to chase you around the halls with a stick.” He advised and then brushed past you without another word, leaving you rooted to your spot for a moment longer before you walked back up to your bedroom, with a strange sense of hesitancy and that small, intrusive voice at the very back of your mind yelled at you to find the General instead of finishing the trip to your room.

Hours of being prepped and readied for the party earned you a seat at the front of a large room next to your brother and you watched as each guest came up and greeted the King and his family, and twice now Vasily had to reach over and elbow your ribs, telling you to be less sullen. You were trying, you really were, but you couldn’t shake the strange feeling of dread that was rapidly growing in your chest. Kirigan and a few of his Grisha that you were ashamed to admit you couldn’t place names to had arrived about twenty minutes ago and the greeting between you two had been off. Not necessarily awkward or bad but there was an air of cynicism around the General that didn’t feel right, especially in your presence.

Lost in thought, you sat with your eyes fixed on nothing in particular when suddenly you were being pulled to your feet by Vasily, and you took this as a clear indication that your suitor had arrived.

And he had. He stood in front of your father and greeted him heartily along with your mother and Vasily before he turned to you and clasped his hand in your own. He fell to his knees and placed a generous kiss on the back of your hand before he took his time in rising to his feet.

“Your Grace, I have missed you.” He said with a wide smile, albeit slightly forced.

“Just y/n will do, thank you. I’ve missed you as well.” You said with a tight smile, and you weren’t sure who you were trying to convince more; him or yourself, and thus began the night of your contempt.

You spent most of the evening paraded around the party on this man’s arm, idly listening to him chat to anyone and everyone about his abundant land and whatnot, you slipped into your own thoughts and reveries. You became more and more bored as the night went on, while your suitor became more and more drunk respectively. You softly excused yourself and wandered back to your parents and sat down exhaustedly on your seat next to your mother and you continued to watch as he socialized flamboyantly. Your eyes searched the room absentmindedly until they met the two darkest eyes you’d ever seen in your life and you gave the General a small smile to which he only nodded and turned back to whoever he was engaging at the moment and you discovered at that moment how it felt when people said their heart sunk. Your father stood up proudly from his chair and proclaimed that it was time to dance, and your chest tightened. There weren’t many other opportunities left for the evening to take a turn where you might wake up engaged the next morning, and you felt sick as you watched everyone couple up, including your mother and father. You looked around for your suitor, but couldn’t find him anywhere, until you did see him; drunkenly throwing himself all over some nobleman’s daughter off in the corner of the room.

You incredulously scoffed and then looked at your father and sighed, “I’m leaving. This is humiliating.” You mumbled and turned on your heel to leave before he could protest, and for the second time that day, you ran straight into the chest of General Kirigan.

“This probably shouldn’t become a habit of yours, Your Majesty. You’re going to hurt yourself.” He said, his flat tone lifting just a bit with the same amusement he displayed earlier.

You stared up at The General with a shocked look on your face and he didn’t even give you the time to reply to him before he grabbed both of your hands and pulled you closer to his chest and gave your father a nod before he slowly began to sway back and forth with you, slowly falling in time with the music that played from the string arrangement on the far side of the room.

“I apologize that your… partner doesn’t have his thoughts about him. You looked so disappointed. I’ll see to your enjoyment for the rest of the evening, how does that sound?” He asked softly and you looked up at him curiously. You wanted to ask why but you didn’t want to risk him moving away from you so you just gave him a little nod and allowed him to carefully guide you in dance.

“You don’t particularly seem like someone who enjoys dancing, General.” You remarked and then paused. It felt odd calling him by only his title, and even more informal to call him just by his last name. Come to think of it, you realized, you didn’t even know his first name. In all the years you’d known the Black General, he’d always just been General or General Kirigan to you.

“It’s not a hobby, that’s for certain.” He hummed, bemusedly, “but I do know how to when the occasion calls for it, so let’s leave it at that.” He finished and then looked out over your head to see everyone else before he put his sights back on your face, “You don’t seem to be having as much fun as you have had at parties in the past.” He pointed out.

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t having fun. In fact you felt all sorts of things about your current situation. Confusion, disappointment, relief, perhaps a bit of anger, annoyance, and the strangest feeling that you couldn’t put a name to, but it was pleasant and it seemed to present itself whenever you were around Kirigan.

You silently cursed yourself for not responding right away again and you looked up at him apologetically, “Sorry. I heard you. No. I’m not really having fun.” You admitted with a sigh and he tightened his hands around yours, drawing you a bit closer. He took the closeness as an opportunity to drop one of your hands and he looped one arm around your middle.

“I know you aren’t. Your mind is going a million miles a second, Princess.” Your formal title sounded so enticing falling from his lips and while you wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to worry about formalities, you selfishly didn’t want to stop hearing the word ‘princess’ in his voice.

To his statement, you simply shrugged and let out a long sigh, “I didn’t want to get engaged tonight. But at the same time I feel so disappointed. I mean, who knows? Maybe I could have liked him, if we’d had more time together to get to know one another.” You theorized, mostly to yourself.

Kirigan thought about your words for a moment and then he shook his head, “But he didn’t make you happy.” He commented, and it sounded more like a statement.

You looked up at him, puzzled, “I mean, he could have made me happy, we don’t know that for sure. I just have only met him a few-“

“But you weren’t happy any of the other three times he came to call on you. So what would make the fourth different? Or even the tenth? The hundredth?”

This invoked a bit of frustration within you, and you couldn’t tell if it was directed towards him or yourself but you scoffed and looked up into his eyes that seemed entirely black from your angle below him, “That’s rather rude of you to presume. It’s not your-“

“Place?” He cut you off again, finishing your sentence and raised his eyebrows, “Perhaps not. But I am right. You won’t have to convince yourself to be happy when you really want to be with someone.”

“I don’t get the luxury of wanting to be with someone! And you certainly don’t get to make these… claims, when I don’t even know your name!” You pointed out furiously and glared up at him, “I get what I’m told is good for me and that’s where the negotiation ends.” His hands tightened around yours again and you could swear you felt the chill of his skin through the shining black leather of his gloves.

He looked surprised only briefly, but quickly the expression disappeared, “Y/n, I’m not telling you to stand against your parents and I’m not implying that you can do as you wish. I am aware of the obstructions that come along with being born as a girl in a family such as yours. I am simply telling you that you don’t have to force yourself to be happy.“ he said cooly, his voice not raising in the slightest. He stayed level headed in his statements and you suddenly felt childish and ashamed of your outburst and your cheeks began to fill with pinkness.

“It’s not fair.” You whispered and leaned forward to close the gap between your bodies and you laid your cheek against the cold metal clasp that sealed one of his shirts closed.

“I know it isn’t fair, little one.” He replied evenly and was mindful of your head against his chest now as he maneuvered you through the slow dance.

“I hate it. I hate it so much. I’ve never even gotten to fall in love, and I likely never will. How does that seem fair?” You complained and closed your eyes tightly, trying to keep your eyes from watering, because judging from the sting in the back of your throat, you knew you were headed down the path of tears, “Have you ever been in love, General Kirigan?” You asked quietly and gave his hand a light squeeze.

His tone stayed the same as it had for the duration of the entire conversation when he answered with: “I have.”

You didn’t say anything to this, and you opted to instead lift your head away from his body so that you could look up at his face, but it was the same as it had been previously. Calm, with just a touch of amusement. You frowned and he simply moved you a bit closer to himself. A tendril of envy wrapped itself around your stomach- and whether it was envy of whoever he had been in love with or overall the envy that he'd experienced love, you weren't sure. You stared up at him silently, and something in your expression must have changed, because he raised his brows down at you curiously. You wanted to ask him about what it felt like to be in love, but a part of you didn’t want to hear of him being in love.

“You don’t like my answer.” He stated, and this sent your head shaking rigorously.

“That’s not it at all, no. I just… I don’t know. I feel off. Perhaps I’m tired.” You scrambled for an excuse and Kirigan let out a very slow sigh, and you instantly felt bad, “General, it’s not like that. Maybe I’m just a bit jealous that you’ve found love before and I haven’t. Im jealous of anyone who has, really. I don’t know. Will you please see me to my room? I don’t want to be here any longer.” You finally conceded and Kirigan gently stopped moving along to the slow music and he let go of your hand. The arm around your waist, much to your delight, didn’t move and he led you towards your father and nodded his head once at him.

“My King, I am going to see your daughter to her room. She is feeling very ill. I’ll send a Healer for her tomorrow if it persists. May I suggest throwing the drunkard in the corner out?” He asked and then nodded towards your companion from earlier in the evening.

Your father warily eyed the drunk man who was pawing at any unaccompanied woman that made her way near him and then gave The General a nod, “Alright. Thank you, General. And thank you for taking her to her bedroom.” Your father thanked him and Kirigan simply nodded before he was whisking you out of the ballroom. The two of you walked in silence down the hall, and his arm, you noted, was still gently draped around your waist.

“What’s it like?” You asked and then looked up at him expectantly, “being in love, I mean.” You added, biting down nervously on your bottom lip.

The General looked down at you and thought for a while, staying silent for so long that you thought he had silently opted not to answer, and when he finally did, his sudden voice in the silence made you jump.

“I don’t know how to tell you that. It’s been different every time.” He replied simply as he walked you up the stairs. This made your mind swim curiously.

“What do you mean? You’ve been in love more than once?” You asked incredulously.

Kirigan seemed to think this was funny and let out a lighthearted laugh, one that soothed worries you didn’t even know you had until they’d melted away in the sweetness of the sound, “I have. You’ll know when you’re in love, y/n. It’s no subtle feeling. Sometimes it’s the most confusing feeling you’ve ever felt. Sometimes you can’t even name it.”

You blinked a few times after he spoke, but said nothing further until the two of you reached your door. The two of you stood in front of it silently for a long time, your eyes eventually meeting his. You searched his face for anything, any emotion at all, but as it would happen, the man was an expert at keeping his face vague when it came to feeling.

Sometimes you can’t even name it.

You thought about that for a moment while the two of you stood with interlocked gazes and you thought back to how you tried to identify what you were feeling this morning when you had run into him and then just moments ago back at the party. What did you feel? It wasn’t just happiness. It wasn’t only excitement, but it felt like it could qualify as such, and when he was around, you felt more than just a friendly attraction. In fact, you felt drunkenly warm and you felt giddy and you felt like there was no one else around, like there was simply no one else you’d rather talk to in that moment.

You looked up at his face and suddenly it was like there was a different light, and you could see his expression was different. Softer, kinder, and something else you couldn’t recognize, though it wasn’t unpleasant. Finally, you broke your stare with The General and you tapped your foot against the ground, “I should get to bed.” You whispered.

At first, you didn’t think Kirigan heard you and you went to speak again, but he beat you to it.

“Can you keep a secret, Princess?” He asked softly and he reached up to tuck a fallen bit of hair back behind your ear.

“I think I’m pretty good at keeping my mouth shut.” You replied and grinned up at him.

He leaned in, and you thought he was going to kiss you, so you closed your eyes and took a shaking breath in, but it never came. Instead, his breath on your ear told you that he had something else in mind and you slowly allowed your eyes to open. You didn’t have to look in a mirror to know you were blushing.

“Aleksander.” He whispered against your ear, slowly pulling back.

You looked up at him confusedly for a moment before it finally made sense, and your eyes widened. He’d just told you his name.

He leaned in once more and pressed a kiss to your forehead before he reached around you and opened the door to your room.

“Goodnight, Princess.” He said softly, and you looked up at him for a moment longer before he stood on your toes and kissed his cheek.

“Goodnight. Thank you for tonight.“ you stopped yourself and then fought back a wide smile, “Thank you for tonight, really.” You repeated.

He didn’t say anything in response to your words, but as he was turning away, you did catch his lips pulling themselves upwards into a smile. You turned around and stepped into your bedroom and closed the door in one swift movement before you collapsed back against the door and slid down until you were sitting with your knees against your chest. You wanted to kick your legs and giggle as you pulled your legs closer to your chest and grinned, letting out the tiniest of laughs, already eager to see him again. You sat against the door for a while as your brain repeated his name over and over again, until you opened your mouth and finally spoke it aloud.

“Aleksander.”

#the darkling imagine #the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan imagine #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #grishaverse

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helpwhatsthis · 1 year

Note

could I request smut of best friend Robin coming across photos of reader and Eddie sending one another nudes 😱 then later on reader and Robin sext?

eddies girl- r.b./e.m

thank you sm for requesting babes!

I changed it bc I am very picky abt my modern aus, but there are definitely still nudes and this is way better than sexting.

ignore the use of time period inaccurate toys!

disclaimer that there are no relations between eddie and robin! (if anyone tries to argue with me about robins sexuality, prepare to have a molotov cocktail thrown in your window ♡)

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robin had know she was fucked from the moment she saw you punch a russian in the face during summer of 85'.

she'd known she was even more fucked the moment she pulled open eddies nightstand in search of a song to save nancy.

before she could even move her eyes to the contents of the drawer, eddie had started screaming and running toward her. the tapes were forgotten from both of her hands when she gazed down to see god knows how many photos of one of her best friends in such... compromising positions.

if it hadn't been for steves screams to hurry up, and eddies pointed yet still terrified stare- she thinks she would have laughed from the shock of it all. because if she was a little more perverted (and a lot less rushed) it would have been like striking gold to her.

she can't deny to herself how many times she'd thought about the small glimpse she'd had. once everyone was safe, and eddie and max had been released from the hospital, it was all she had thought about for days. she'd barely left her room. every time her eyes closed, she saw it. saw you. tied up to your headboard, eddies hellfire shirt bunched up over your tits, and his hands pressing on your stomach. your head thrown back in ecstacy.

and with the sight came the questions. would you ever, in a million years or another lifetime let her touch you like that? what would you sound like? do want to fuck eddie as much as he talks about wanting to fuck you?

now her thighs are clenching together in the dusk surrounding the lake. she feels like a preteen boy, about to blow her load in her jeans while you moan along with joan jett to cherry bomb.

how could she not? your eyes are glassy and bloodshot, smoke falling from your nose. your black bathing suit leaves nothing of your body shape to the imagination. but most of all, even in the low light she can see the dark hickies on your skin.

"she's so fucking perfect, isn't she?" eddie muses softly, his knee bumping her own. guilt immediately fills her being when she looks back at him. even though his skin is covered in harsh scars, and there's a fear lurking in his eyes, he smiles as he watches you.

he loves you.

and you love him.

"to the ends of the earth, teddy" you had whispered in the back of steves car while begging him to hang on.

"i- I mean yeah, sure-" she stumbles on her words, sure shes been caught staring for too long.

"cool it, buckley." he smirks, turning his gaze to her. "I know you want to fuck my girlfriend, there's no reason to freak out."

"I don't!" she blurts, probably a little too loudly when you and steve turn back to look at her.

"shut up rob," he laughs, smacking her shoulder. "I know you have a shitty sleep schedule, and you have work tomorrow. so me and the succubus are gonna head home."

"dick" you grit, reaching up to slap his ass harshly as he stands.

why the fuck is he covering for her right now?

she's seen how possessive eddie can get, even before his escapades in an alternate dimension. since then, they'd only increased tenfold.

"we'll finish this conversation later." he murmurs, leaning down and feigning a kiss goodbye on the top of her head.

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"-and she's lovin' him with that body, I just know it. and he's holding her in his arms late-late at night-"

robin groans, throwing her head back against the headrest of steves passenger seat. "alright, sorry springfield. I can't handle you tonight."

she reaches to turn down the radio, causing steve to fake a moan of agony.

"shit, robin. is this y/n. again?" he asks, glancing at her pitifully.

"yes, again." she snaps. "it's like she knows exactly how to work her way into the most minute crevices of my brain" she explains exaggeratedly with her hands.

much to her annoyance, steve just chuckles.

"and eddie knows-" she looks at him, finally allowing her fear to show through. she knows that some point, eddie had threatened a guy within an inch of his life, all because he heard from someone who heard from someone else that the guy had a crush on you.

she did not feel like having eddie threaten to put a pipe bomb in her mailbox. or whatever deranged shit came out of his mouth.

"and how would he know?" steve asks skeptically.

because all I do is stare at her boobs,

or because I stole one of her shirts,

maybe even because sometimes I wake myself up moaning her name in my sleep.

"I don't know." she lies. straight through fucking teeth. "but he told me he knows."

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"alright, I'll be back in a few." you huff, grabbing eddies keys so that you could pick up steve and some take out. "love you, bubba" you hum, pressing a short kiss to eddies lips that makes robin painfully aware of being the third wheel.

"love you too." he smiles blissfully as he watches you walk out the door. it takes less than a second for him to turn back to her, cheshire grin upturning his lips. "let's get down to business-"

he wiggles his brows at her, causing her to roll her eyes. "and what would that be, edward?" she snaps, looking anywhere but his face. she knows that if she looks at him too long, she'll become a sobbing, apologizing mess.

"well, all three of us are off thursday." he shrugs. "and wayne is going out with some fishing buddies-" he smirks, biting his lip as he leans toward her.

"that means y/n and I are gonna have that new, big nda money house all to ourselves... unless of course you wanna come over?"

and she can see it vividly now, playing behind her eyelids. she's not stupid. she nows eddie fucked you on every surface of the new place after you'd bought it with your hush money.

it's a nice place, a really nice place actually. it's no harrington mansion, but you have eddie have a big plush bed on the second floor.

she wonders what it'd be like, to fuck you the king size bed you share with your boyfriend.

"and what would happen if I did come over?" she bites the bullet, looking skeptically at eddie. she almost wishes she hadn't when she sees the victorious look on eddies face.

"well y'know, it's not like I've put too much thought to it-" he laughs, eyes lost in thought as he absent-mindedly picks at the couch. "but you probably come in and find her tied to one of the kitchen chairs, wand buzzing against her puffy clit and begging someone to fill her up."

and she can almost hear it then, the loud buzzing and your whines for him.

no, for her.

"and of course I'd be mean, tell her no. and you'd get to play the hero, making her cum over and over on your pink cock."

there's a burning in her stomach, and she almost cries out when she clenches her thighs.

"god robin, she gets so wet for you. I make her tell me about how she wants your fingers inside and your tits in her face when im fucking her."

and she can't suppress it then, a soft moan pulling from her throat. she pulls her knees under her chin, peering up at him through teary eyes. he smiles, almost warmly as he claps a hand on her shoulder.

"so come over, or don't. s'up to you darlin'."

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her hands are shakey as she reaches to close the mirror on the visor, letting out a huff of anxiety.

"you're really gonna do this?" steve ask, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"I guess so, and if it's horrible I'll call you when you're on break and make you come pick me up." she shrugs, looking back out the window.

"It's not gonna be horrible, rob." steve states, even though he knows very well that his is definitely out of her comfort zone.

she's so lost in her own head that she barely notices when he stops the car in the driveway.

"oh god-" she murmurs softly, gazing at the front door.

"It's just eddie and y/n, you'll be okay." he promises, reaching out a squeezing her hand.

the walk to the door feels endless on her trembling legs. she almost can bring herself to knock when she finally reaches it. but she does.

"It's open!" she hears eddie call from inside.

before she even has the door all the way open, she hears you cry out.

"eddie, please." you beg, hands fisting your binds and hips trying to wiggle away from the vibrations. it's a fruitless effort, only adding stimulation to your swollen cunt.

your beautiful. it's a simple thought, and the first thing that occurs to her as she stares into the the living room.

she thinks that eddie must have the self control of a god, being able to write nerd shit in his notebook while you're tied up and jerking around like that right in front of him.

"god eddie, please make it stop." you pant, body slumping and pushing your clit into the toy harder.

he only smiles, reaching out and turning it up a setting. you practically scream, head falling back and making her knees feel weak.

"come torture her a bit, buckley." he smiles at her. "lose the clothes on the way." he hums, going back to his notebook.

and she's waited so long to see you like this that she obeys without a second thought, striping down to her underwear and sitting beside him on the couch.

from here, she can see all of you. you're chest is heaving so hard it makes your tits bounce. there's visible tremors running through your belly. and your cunt, fuck. it's leaking everywhere and your puffy clit is twitching against the head of the wand.

"r-robin-" you choke, voice broken. "please make it stop?" you you beg, tear filled eyes pleading at her.

"oh y/n." she hums, reaching out to wipe the tear tracks from your cheeks. you push into her touch, and jerk a second later when eddie flicks the handle of the wand.

"make her cum." he says, relaxing back into the couch with his arms behind his head.

"how?" she asks, not able to tear her gaze from your clenching hole.

he sits up wordlessly, reaching for the clasp of her bra. he stops, eyes asking for permission. she nods, and seconds later the material is falling from her chest.

the sound you make is strangled, wanting nothing more than to feel the hard buds of her nipples against your tongue.

"do whatever feels right?" eddie shrugs.

and so she does, standing from the couch and pulling down her panties. your whining, body keening toward hers as you watch her undress.

she can help herself, hands caressing your face and she guides it so that your chin rests on her sternum.

it almost feel natural as she moves her hands to the sides of her breasts, pushing them and effectively smashing you between them.

and she giggles, fucking giggles, as you sob into her skin.

"can I kiss her?" she asks shyly, looking over her shoulder at eddie.

"you can do whatever the fuck you want to her, robin" he grins.

the next thing you know, her mouth is on yours, her tongue running along yours. you don't even notice her moving, so consumed by her mouth. she drops on your lap, folds warm and wet against your legs as her hand wraps around your neck.

"f-fuck" you cry into her mouth when she squeezes slightly.

and then she's in a daze, hips rocking against your mound and causing you to thrust into the vibe.

you take her tit into your mouth, nearly biting at her nipple and making her moan.

"oh fuck, that's it y/n" she gasps, hands tugging your hairs.

"go on and cum for her, baby." eddie encourages, reaching out and squeezing you knee.

it's euphoria as you let go. cunt clenching and feeling your pulse everywhere. your deaf to your owns screams of pleasure, deaf to both of their praising words. it's just wave after wave of bliss.

when you come to, the wand is clicked off. your head is resting on robins shoulder and her hands are rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"come on, princess. buckley isn't done with you yet." he hums, beginning to untie you.

"your getting payback for that teasing." you threaten, making robin laugh.

"oh yeah, and how is that?" he smirks.

"when is steves next day off?" you smile devilishly up at robin.

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slvt4lanadelrey · 1 year

Text

Champagne Problems | part two | Jenna Ortega

Warnings: Swearing, kissing

!you can decide whether you want the previous ending, or this one!

Part One | Champagne problems

"I'm sorry" you stood moon struck at the flawless beauty in front of you. To put it in terms of someone who wasn't completely head over heels for the women: she looked like a mess, her hair tied in a loose bun that had been in for far too long so loose hairs were flying around. Her makeup was gone, nothing but strands of the reminding mascara that still ran down her cheeks. Jenna, your jenna? Was she yours, was you hers. Well, Jenna was standing in front of you, looking as beautiful as ever.

She looked nervous, her fingers fidgeting and eyes unable to meet yours.

It had been a total of 3 weeks, 21 days, 503 hours, 1814400 seconds since you looked into the chest-nut eyes, the lagoon of brown that always sparkled whenever they looked at you; when you'd ask your friend's if they noticed the shimmer, the undoubtedly glistening in Jenna's eyes whenever she'd look at you, but they'd always say it was just the light. It wasn't the light, Jenna loved you, and her body acted accordingly: showing off her love with her eyes, her touches, her words. You were her muse, the oxygen she breathed and the music that she'd listen to wherever she felt overwhelmed.

Jenna coughed, her nose stuffy with the tears she'd be drowning in since you left. Her family were like leeches, ringing, messaging, self inviting themselves into her personal space and suffocating her with care; she didn't want their sympathy, she wanted you.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." You weren't going to stand there and let her apologise, not when you were the one who left.

"Why are you sorry?" Your voice cracked, croaking out into the room. You were yet to invite her in, embarrassed that you let yourself go after her sister picked up the boxes in your house.

"Because I knew. I mean, when I asked I thought you would say yes, I imagined our fairytale life together. But I knew, Y/N, you've never wanted that and you made it clear within our relationship." She whispered, her eyes were still leaking, tears falling from her cheeks freely. You wanted to make a move, wipe away the water that poisoned her cheeks. Even though she was a pretty crier, it still killed you seeing her in such a state.

Your head rolled onto the door frame, closing your eyes when a shaken sigh left your lips. She was right, you weren't shy about telling her how you pictured your life: she never cared, the only thing that mattered was that she was a part of it; in every universe, every picture you'd paint, Jenna was there.

"Don't cry, Jenna." Somehow, she missed you saying her name. Her name would roll off your tongue, touching the air with a satisfying hum to her ears.

She hiccupped away the pain, her teary eyes falling to the floor.

"Sorry."

"Stop apologising." You pleaded, hands pressing into your eyes. You were stuck with a head aching throbbing pain slamming into your skull; the pain of the nauseating headache was almost enough to have you weep out in pain.

"I don't know what to say. I sort of came here in a hurry, my mom- my mom told me not to, she said you still needed space. I needed to see you, I had to know—" she stopped herself, knowing what she wanted to say would either break or make you. She wanted to scream, plead into the midnight breeze that you were hers, that she would do anything, absolutely anything.

"Know what?" You asked, you wanted her to make you uncomfortable, you wanted her to tell you what she wanted: who she wanted.

"I have to know that we're still—well, that there's still an us?"

Your heart sank, never in a million years would you ever expect such a question to come from Jenna's lips; the two of you were so sure about your relationship, where the both of you stand throughout the whole course. Jenna knew you loved her, that your love rose just like the sun would everyday.

"I just think-"

She didn't let you speak, she brushed into the apartment with a haiste that by the time you blinked she was already situated herself on the island chair.

"We need to talk, I know." She slid her hands up her face, dragging them back down with a slight groan.

You accompanied her, standing in front of the island so the both of your eyes could meet. Call it selfishness, karma, whatever, but you missed her eyes dearly.

"Then talk, tell me everything that went through your head." You mumbled, half heartedly, unsure whether you wanted to dive into the rabbit whole of emotions and questions.

She sighed, holding her hands interlocked with each other before talking.

"I wanted to marry you, I wanted to be able to claim you as my wife, I don't know call it old-fashioned but I just wanted to take that step in our relationship. I thought- maybe if you gave me a chance, maybe, I'd be able to show you that I would be an amazing wife. I supposed I was being stupid." She rolled her head to the counter, releasing a string of different curses.

"I was caught up in a fantasy, my family has made that picture clear."

You didn't say anything, due to the lack of words, the lack of oxygen filtering through your system, everything was too much.

"I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry that I asked you, in all places in front of a crowd full of people you weren't familiar with. Will you- can you forgive me, baby?"

The pet name, the soothing way she spoke, her words; she knew you weren't the best with large crowds, but she was admitting her wrongs.

"I'm sorry, Jenna." She looked up at you, tears staining her cheeks.

"Why are you sorry?" She asked, reaching out to collect your hand on her own.

"You shouldn't be sorry for having a reaction, granted- it was embarrassing, but I understand." You sighed, she was too perfect, she was saying all the right things in the moment.

"Jenna, I want to be with you, more than anything. I'm just- we're so fucking young. If- maybe, what if we wait?" She peaked up at the question, the fate she deemed herself wasn't her reality, it was just her own insecurities.

"You- you want to be with me? Like, you still want to be mine?" She squealed, her tears steaming into nothing. She smiled, her dimpled sight filling your eyes, and your heart. She was gorgeous, an absolute sight for you to admire: you only, and that made you feel flushed.

"Yes. Of course, you're my life, Jenna. I'm just not ready to tie the knot, I'm- I promise, we can rethink this decision, we can take our time and not rush our relationship." She nodded to everything you said, taking in all the information you were quickly telling her.

"I am yours Jenna, you've claimed me in every way. I can't imagine, and I don't want to imagine my life without you." She lunged forward, her arms hooking around your neck and pulled you in.

Just your luck, for the counter crushed your ribs that sent an aching pain throb through your body. You hissed, pulling away from her warm embrace.

"Sorry, again." She giggled, letting you fall from her hold. You nodded, moving around the obstacle in your way. You collapsed into her arms, holding her for dear life: scared she would leave, scared she would release you was some type of damaged goods. Your lips surged into hers, she gasped into your sudden force.

You held her cheek, your lips plaguing hers. You kissed, slowly to let the kiss really take over both of your reality. Three weeks, three painful weeks spent without the warmth of Jenna, and having her near made you overdose.

You didn't want to pull away, so when she did you whined.

"Maybe we could settle with moving in with each other? Spend more time with eachothers family, get familiar with everything that may become our normal?" She asked, hope sparkling in her eyes. She leaned forward, kissing your cheek before you could speak again.

"You promise I won't become an afterthought, that you wouldn't prioritise your career over us?" You asked, biting your bottom lip in fear. She pulled away, holding your face in her hands.

"I would never, absolutely never do that. You're my universe, Y/N, you're the only thing worth my time." She promised, sealing the vow with a kiss.

Everything may change, you may change your mind on marriage and one day you'll be an Ortega and live among Jenna's crowd, but for now the both of you would settle for small dates, falling asleep In each other's arms and whispering soft I love yous into the midnight air.

She was your person, she was your Jenna, and she wasn't going to let a small disagreement get in the way of your whole relationship. Embarrassment be damned, Jenna could take the whole harassment off her family; if she had you, that's all that mattered. She asked, and she sadly got a no, but you were still in her arms at the end of the night; so was it that bad?

#jenna ortega #tara carpenter #lgbt #jennaortega #vada cavell #wlw #lorraine day #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem #jenna x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #champagne problems #taylor swift

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obxone · 1 year

Text

Unlikely Pairing (Part Three)

Edited-ish. ~4k words.

Warning: Smut ending

(Part 1) (Part 2)

Taglist: @shara-ne

“Damn Kiara,” Cleo exclaims as you near her family home. You all walk through the gate, and Kiara tenses up with every step. “You live here? This is like the White House, man.”

You giggle and look at the others at Cleo’s comment.

“How bad do you think it’s gonna be?” Pope asks.

“Scale of one to ten?” She asks, glancing at the four of you lingering by the gate. “Twenty.”

“Do you want us to wait with you?” You ask, reaching for her hand to give it a squeeze of reassurance.

“No. I… I gotta take this. Thanks for walking me.” She scrunches her face, moving her hair behind her ears before glancing at you. “You should see her house next.”

You blush, looking at the clear pool water.

“I doubt my parents will even be home,” you mutter, kicking the toe of your shoe against the concrete lining the pool area. “They probably didn’t even notice I was missing.”

Kiara pauses on the steps, looking at JJ, who does not seem to want to meet anyone’s eyes. “Bye JayJ.”

He salutes her wordlessly, and you frown at him, not sure what is causing a rift between them.

“Come on,” Cleo motions the group back through the gate, and you start the trek toward your house.

“So…” you muse, elbowing JJ as Pope and Cleo lead the way. “What’s that about?”

“Nothing.”

“Jay…”

“Just drop it,” he mutters.

“All right,” you turn onto your street and join Pope and Cleo, who paused at the main gate.

“Wow!” Cleo whispers as her hands grip the bars. “This is bigger than the White House.”

You laugh with a shake of your head. “No, it’s not. But, Sarah’s house practically is.”

“Of course it is!” She mutters, shaking her head and stepping away. “I saw that Bahama’s house.”

You glance back at the estate before turning to your friends. “Check in soon? I’m not sure anyone is home, but a shower sounds so good.”

“We’ll check in,” Pope agrees, fist bumping you before you turn to JJ with a sad expression.

“Text me if you need me,” you pat his shoulder. “Or come by. You know you’re welcome here anytime.”

“Thanks, Princess,” he flashes his dimple and hugs you before taking a step back. They all wave, and you watch them go before you punch in the code to the gate and step through. The walk up to the house feels incredibly long, and your hands shake once you reach the front door. You lift your hand to knock, but the door is pulled open.

“Hi,” you whisper. Your gaze finds your mother. “Hi, Mom.”

“Oh, my god.” The teacup slips from her hand and shatters against the marble floor. “Archibald!”

“Honey, is everyth-?” Your dad comes around the corner but pauses. His eyes widen, and you are immediately pulled further into his house and their arms. “Thank God!”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you murmur, nestling against them.

“You are home,” your mother sobs, tears welling in her eyes as she touches your face.

“I’m home,” you reassure her before she hugs you tighter.

“Honey,” your dad prompts, encouraging her to let go. “She’s home, she’s okay.”

You reassure them both. “I’m okay. But, I would really like to take a shower and get some fresh clothes.”

“Of course,” your mother agrees, stepping back while wiping at her eyes. “I’ll get you something to eat, and we will make some calls to let everyone know you are home, safe and sound.”

You nod, smiling a little before heading for the staircase. You hurry to the second floor and down the hall to your room. A warmth spreads through you that your parents are happy to see you and glad you are home. It feels nice to see them in the same place together.

After a long, hot shower and fresh clothing, you make your way back downstairs. You find your parents in the sunroom, a small spread of food on the ottoman between them.

“You already look so much better.” Your mom smiles, running her fingers through your freshly washed and blown out hair. “We’ll have to get you a facial and a mani-pedi soon,” she hums, tapping your chin to look at your sun kissed face before glancing at your short unpolished nails.

Everyone is silent for a moment, and you shift uncomfortably at the way their gazes run over you, calculating what you look like.

“Here, Sweetheart,” your father says, leaning forward to collect a small plate and pass it to you along with a cup of water. “Please eat something.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He nods, straightening his suit jacket before glancing at your mother. “Umm… if we are all settled here, then I will go to the office.”

“You’re going in?” You ask around a bite.

He nods, rising from his seat. “Yes, Sweetheart. The Island needs their favorite mayor.”

“Okay,” you whisper, not able to hide the disappointment in your voice. He ignores it and pecks your mother's cheek and then your forehead before going.

“I should go into the office as well,” your mother says quietly, knocking the invisible crumbs off her skirt. “Real estate stops for nothing, I’m afraid.”

“I understand.”

She smiles, squeezing your arm before she is up and gone. You exhale, looking around the quiet sunroom before pushing the half-eaten plate away in disappointment. You had been missing, and even with you back, nothing has changed. You wander through the house until you are back in your room and diving under your covers to comfort yourself.

A little bit later, the doorbell rings, startling you as you drop the book you are reading and jog to the front door to open it. Sarah exhales at the sight of you. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” You open the door wider and allow her in. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Umm…” she paces in the foyer for a second before turning to you, running her hand through her blonde hair. “So…”

“Sarah?”

“I know, I’m trying,” she whispers before exhaling harshly. “Rafe is back.”

“What?!”

She nods, biting her lip before repeating herself. “Rafe is back.”

“Oh my god,” you whisper as fear claws up inside of you. “On Kildare?”

“Yep.”

“Fuck!”

“I know.”

You turn to her with wide eyes. “What are we going to do?”

She shrugs. “There isn’t much we can do.”

“Sarah! I robbed your brother!” You exclaim, hands pressing to your stomach. “I shoved your brother off his own boat and stole it! I left him there to feign for himself! He’s going to kill me!”

“That’s not all of it either,” she murmurs, and you stare at her in shock. “I think the cross is coming back… to Wilmington, tomorrow night.”

“Holy shit.” You lower yourself onto the chaise decorating a wall in the foyer to steady yourself. “Does Pope know?”

“No, not yet.”

You nod, hands pressing to your face. “Okay, we need to tell him. To tell everyone.”

“I know, I was going to tell everyone at the Chateau.”

“Oh, umm,” you frown, pulling out your cell to show her a series of texts. “You can’t. He’s on lockdown.”

“Fine, I’ll go there.”

“I can tell Kie,” you offer, tucking your phone back in your pocket. “And I’m sure we’ll find JJ after.”

“Great, and I’ll tell John B… also Big John is alive.”

“What?!” You snap.

“I saw him this morning.”

“Holy fucking shit!”

“I know, it’s a lot,” she murmurs before glancing at the door. “We should hurry though, right?”

“Right!” You agree and grab your keys and follow her out to the driveway. “You need a lift?”

“No, I have my bike.”

“Okay,” you agree, opening the car door quickly. Your mind racing that Rafe is back, Big John is alive, and the cross is within reach again. “And Sarah?” She pauses from climbing on her bike to look at you. “Be careful.”

“You too. Oh, I meant to ask, your parents…?”

You frown, looking at the ground.

“They aren’t here, are they?” She takes your silence as a response. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, meeting her gaze again. “We got bigger problems.”

She nods and pedals off as you get into your car and turn it over. It purrs to life and seems to operate fine, even having sat still for weeks on end. You thank the heavens and shift onto the driveway before leaving the empty, quiet house behind.

Nothing registers are you drive, not until you are parked at the Carrera household and getting out of the car as Kiara walks to the end of the porch. Concern flashes across her face when she sees you and the expression you have.

“We have a problem,” you rush out, jogging up the stairs to meet her. “Rafe’s back.”

“Rafe?!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you okay?”

You nod, glancing at the house where you can see Anna and Mike moving around inside. “And guess what else? The cross is coming back, tomorrow night.”

“What?!”

“Yep, Sarah is telling Pope now and then John B. I came to tell you, and we have to go tell JJ.” You rush out, glancing at the house once more. “Like right now.”

She goes to tell her parents while you hurry to get back in the car. Moments later, she comes running out and gets into your car with you. Both of your minds racing a mile a minute on the change of events.

“Ready?” You ask, gripping the wheel tightly.

“Yeah, let’s hope they don’t kill me for this.”

You offer a hesitant smile, before backing out of the driveway and heading to The Cut, to JJ’s.

“Honey!” Your mom’s voice calls for you. “Someone is here for you!”

“Who?” You call back as you leave your dad’s office. The pogues had all agreed to meet later, so unless something had gone wrong it should not be one of them. And they knew what you are doing, you are hunting for the keys to his SUV. He did not drive it often, but it would help with getting everyone to Wilmington in one or two vehicles. The keys are not in any of his drawers, so you know they have to be upstairs in the primary suite somewhere.

You pause in your steps once you see Rafe standing near your mom. She is grinning ear to ear at you. Your heart races as he smirks, dragging those cold blue eyes over the length of you.

“Rafe…”

“Hey, Baby.”

“Honey, you didn’t tell me that Rafe and you have decided to work through your problems!” Your mom smiles at you as she slides her Birkin onto her arm. “I think it’s lovely. So many exciting things happening. Your return, Rafe’s return, and you two lovebirds dating again!”

“Mom,” you whisper, but she ignores you.

“Well, I’m off to an open house. You two have fun!” She waves her hand without looking back at you before she is gone.

You exhale, again you are alone with Rafe. The options are limited on what you can do, and you know that as you begin easing your foot back while Rafe looks around the main floor.

“I saw the news bulletin,” he murmurs, hands in his pockets when he looks back at you. “Five Kildare teens returned…”

“I saw it,” you mutter, hands clasping in front of you. You try to play off your attempt to quietly escape. “Why are you here?”

He smirks, raising one hand to his face. His thumb brushes his nose. That signature gold signet ring flashing in the sunshine. “You know why?”

“No, I don’t.”

He chuckles, moving closer to you, but you quickly put the same amount of space back between you. “Don’t run from me, Princess.”

You swallow, looking at your feet briefly. “Rafe, you shouldn’t be here. I don’t have time for this.”

He smirks again. “Busy trying to ruin your future over those pogues some more?”

You roll your eyes, arms crossing over your waist. “What’s it to you?”

“You heard your mom, I’m your boyfriend.”

“Rafe…”

“You said it yourself at Singh’s, didn’t you? That you belong to me.”

You huff, heat flashing through you as you think about that night in Singh’s mansion and how you spent the night tangled in Rafe.

“Why won’t you stay put?” He continues when you move away from him again.

“Because,” you whisper, easing another foot back as he takes a step forward. The house is empty other than the two of you. No one will hear you scream if he tries anything and that terrifies you. “I’m afraid that you are going to hurt me.” You reach back, your hand tightening on the doorknob that leads back into your father’s office. You are ready to slip inside and close it in his face at a moment’s notice.

“And why would I do that, Princess?”

“You know why.”

“I do, but I want you to tell me why.”

Your hand trembles as you ease the knob to the right with his next step. The door creaks as it opens, and he chuckles.

“I’ll catch you; you know that. I told you this wasn’t over.” He reaches for you now that he is within arm’s length, but you shove yourself backward. His hand barely misses your arm, and you start to shut the door, but he wedges himself into the space before shouldering himself into the room. “Why would I harm you, huh?”

You quickly sidestep him, giving him ample room, but staying near the door. He peruses your father’s office. He smirks when he spots your school picture, his finger dragging over it. It was taken last year when you graduated from high school and still had the hopes and dreams of escaping to college right away. Of escaping this tiny island, and all the chaos that seemed to ooze out of every crevice.

He turns to look at you, crossing his arms over his chest, his jaw clenching for a moment before he speaks again. “Answer me.”

You close your eyes for a moment, wishing the pogues would come to your rescue even though you know better than that. You will have to face Rafe Cameron all on your own just like you did when you were held captive. “Because of Barbados.”

He nods, lips pursing for a moment. “And what happened in Barbados?”

You roll your eyes. You are not going to play this game with him. But he shifts, blocking you from the door before you can take another step. His breath fanning over your face as he stares down at you.

“What happened in Barbados, Baby?”

Your gaze darts around looking for something to use to defend yourself if he decides to become violent at any second. You had crossed the line with him after shoving him off his boat and stealing it to save your friends.

“Hmm?” He asks, his finger hooking under your chin and turning your attention back to him. “Tell me.”

“You know what happened.”

He smirks, and a chuckle promising vengeance leaves his lips. “I do, but I want you to tell me.”

“Why?” You swat his hand away. “Why bring it up again? You are on Kildare and from what I understand you got what you wanted, Daddy’s approval to come back.”

He smirks before gripping your wrist and bringing your hand up to his body. His hand presses yours against his chest. “Yeah, I did. I came back to take over for my dad. What did you come back for, huh?”

“My family is here.”

“Where are they then, hmm?” He asks, glancing around through the open floor plan.

“Work.”

His face morphs into one of mockery. “Their only daughter comes back from being lost at sea for weeks, and they went to work?” He tuts, sliding his hand along your shoulder. His fingertips brush over your collarbone. “Doesn’t seem like they care too much to me.”

“So what?” You quip. Rafe is well aware of the sore spot you have when it comes to the topic of your parents being present and attentive.

He chuckles. “So, come with me. Come to Tanneyhill. They won’t miss you.”

“And why would I do that?”

He shrugs, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. “Because you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit.”

He chuckles, hand moving to bump under your chin before trailing down your chest to the top of your dress. His fingers hook into the bowl to pull it loose. “You stole my boat remember.”

“It’s safe in the harbor.”

“Oh, I know. I found it already.” He grins before hooking two fingers into the bow at the top of the lace-up detail in your dress. “But you still owe me. You fucked me for hours, telling me how much you missed me and how much you belong to me before you tricked me and left me to deal with Singh’s men on my own after you stole my boat.” He shakes his head, and you can see the frustration at your betrayal brewing beneath the surface. “Does that seem fair to you?”

You frown, heart racing wildly as he gently tugs at the laces, pulling them free stitch by stitch until your dress hangs open. You inhale sharply as he begins to tug the sleeves down your arms. “What do you want then Rafe?”

He steps closer, leaving not an inch of space between you. His lips brush your temple and down to your cheek. “I already told you, Baby. I want you.”

Your dress crumples to the ground, pooling around you, and he grins, lips brushing across the corner of your mouth.

“And I intend to get just that, or else I report you and your little friends for theft,” he muses, his fingers dragging down your back to toy with the clasp of your bra. A shudder consumes you, and your hand tangles into the front of his shirt as he undoes the clasp. “What do you say, hmm?” He inquires, bumping the tip of his nose against yours. “Come with me or go to jail for larceny with all the pogues including Sarah.”

“Rafe…”

“Those are your options, Baby. I know your parents will bail you out, but the others,” he tsks. “They’ll sit in there and rot… maybe not Kie and maybe not Sarah, but Pope…JJ… John B.” With each name, his fingers drag your bra straps down your arm until it hits the floor at your feet.

When you do not respond, he starts to step away from you. You reach for him, hands grabbing at his shirt, the material soft and expensive in your grip.

“And what if I come with you?”

He smirks before his lips ghost over yours. “You belong to me. You’ll do and say anything I want. You’ll be mine.”

You inhale sharply, aware that saying yes to being his would be the ultimate betrayal to your friends, and you would never be one of them again, but you also know that you cannot go to jail and drag them with you. Not after everything. Not if there is a way to save them. Especially if they are supposed to get the cross tonight.

“Fine, you have me.”

“Good girl.” He kisses you, groaning as his hands hook under your thighs lifting you with ease before he starts towards the overstuffed leather sofa that your father sometimes took meetings on. You end the kiss and search his face as he sits down, holding you on his lap. Your hips straddling his.

“What are you doing?”

He smirks, his hand cupping your face so that his thumb can graze over the rim of your chin.

“Getting what I want.” His other hand skims up your thigh to encircle the band of your panties before he pulls harshly. The lace fabric tears with ease, and he tosses them over his shoulder. “I’ve always wanted to fuck you on this sofa. I’ve wanted to see what it was like to make you come all over the leather.” The promise in his words makes your stomach flip, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as he unbuttons his shorts and shifts you under him on the sofa. His shorts and underwear join your clothing on the floor before he removes his shirt, tugging it up, and over his head. A shiver races down your spine when his hand drags down your naked body to brush between your legs. “Soaking wet.” He hums, nipping at the inside of your thigh. I’m going to make you wish you had listened to me,” he murmurs, one hand fisting your hair and the other gripping your hip as he sinks into you. You bite your lip to muffle any noise at his sudden movement. “We are going to be happy together. Kildare’s finest couple.”

“Rafe,” you moan as he starts to move, giving you no time to adjust to him. Your nails rake down his back as he drives into your relentlessly. The sound of skin on skin echoing around you. His pace is brutal, every detail of his fantasy playing out before him.

“I can give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of!” He growls, his teeth nipping at your shoulder before he nuzzles into your neck. “And now, now you’ll deal with what I want to give you until I forgive you.”

“I know,” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes as the realization of what you have agreed to sinks in. “I know, Rafe. I’m sorry.”

You gasp, head tipping back as he finds your g spot. Your body trembles as he brushes up against it repeatedly.

“Be a good girl, and I’ll let you come all over my cock before we go and get my cross back.”

“Your cross?!”

He nods once before pulling your mouth back to his for a messy hungry kiss, and his hand falls between your bodies to touch between your legs. You groan into his mouth as your body flushes with heat. His thumb circles your clit while his other hand wraps around your neck, squeezing your throat as his hips meet you thrust for thrust until you cry out. The orgasm washes over you, drowning you in pleasure, and your walls suck him deeper with greed. He groans, spilling inside of you afterward. You pant, shaking as you come down from your orgasm. He collapses into you. The naked press of his body against yours reminds you how well you fit together physically.

Rafe’s nose is buried in your hair as he lets you milk him for every drop. Once you are sure that you can stand properly, you shove at his chest and slip away from him, ignoring the mixed orgasms that are now smeared on the leather and spreading down your thighs.

“Cross,” you rush out. “You said cross.”

“Yeah, Princess. My cross. We are getting my cross back, tonight.”

“But…”

He tips his head. “What? You think the pogues deserve it, don’t you?”

“It belongs to Pope’s family.”

He laughs, standing and pulling his clothes back on. “Fucking Pogues, all the same. It is my cross, I worked to get it, not Pope!”

You stare at him, head still spinning from his words. “How are you getting it?”

He shrugs. “It is coming in by train, and a friend is going to help me get it.”

“Barry?”

Your skin crawls at the thought of The Cut’s largest drug dealer and Rafe’s former friend, though it seems they have mended their past.

He hands you your dress, his lips brushing your temple before he snaps out his instructions for you. “Get dressed, I haven’t got all day.”

“I can’t…”

“Oh, but you are,” he says, opening the office door. “We have a deal. You’re mine now. Pack a bag, and meet me outside, you have ten minutes. And don’t even think about telling those pogues anything.”

The door closes with a snap, and worry floods you. Would you all run into each other tonight? And, if you did, would Rafe harm them or you so that he could get and keep his cross?

(Thoughts? Chapter Four?)

#outer banks #obx #outer banks rafe cameron #rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x y/n

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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eyes half shut

hawkins high alumni always run the end of year carnival to help raise funds for the school and steve is always in charge of the alumni basketball game, but this year they’re trying out a kissing booth and who better to headline than steve harrington? | ( 3.9k – a little angst, a little fluff, kinda enemies to kinda lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

E Y E S H A L F S H U T 🎶 dream boy, savannah conley

“Now, please don’t be late, Steven. Jason’s done with his shift right at seven and we don’t want to keep people waiting.” Miss Click tapped on the clipboard in her hand before hanging it back up on the nail hammered into the wall of the booth, “Robin Buckley volunteered to cover the cash register for your shift too! You remember Robin.”

Steve felt his jaw tick with irritation as he tried to hide the grimace on his face, his old History teacher practically beaming at the very mention of his friend. Of course Robin volunteered to run the register. She just wanted a front row seat for what was sure to be the most humiliating night of his life.

“Great. Robin Buckley. A real grade A student,” he said with a forced smile, jamming his hands into the pockets of his Levi’s.

“I thought so too! Such an attentive pupil,” Miss Click agreed before checking her watch. “Oh dear, I need to go check on the cake walk. I’ll see you back here in a few hours, I’m sure we’ll have record donations!” and with that she was off across the football field leaving Steve alone in the small booth to freak out about what he’d just agreed to.

A kissing booth. Great. Perfect. Totally fine.

He definitely wasn’t sore about Tommy getting to run the alumni basketball game instead of him. Wasn’t stressing the fuck out about the idea of having to kiss people for an hour straight. Or worse, kiss no one at all and have to live under a rock for the rest of his life and he totally wasn't going to kill Robin for ‘graciously volunteering’ to take money at his expense.

Loosing a sigh from his chest Steve ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the frame of the wall, KISSING BOOTH written above him. All curly letters and lipstick marks and bright red paint, taunting and teasing him about what would be happening in a few short hours.

It was going to be fine. Totally fine. Steve Harrington could handle a few smooches for charity. Right?

Right?

Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two. I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you.

Joan Jett was yelling through the speakers of your stereo as you leaned over your dresser, swiping mascara through your lashes in the mirror, trying your best to hurry up and get ready for the Hawkins High Jamboree.

Did you want to go? Absolutely not.

Was your room mate and best friend making you go with her? 100%.

“So, like, are you gonna be ready this century or should I plan on arriving in a coffin? Actually. Steve’s gonna probably put me in one anyway, might be doing him a favor,” Robin mused around her toothbrush from across the hall in the bathroom.

“Hah, are you kidding? That guy came out of the womb as a fully formed show boat. He loves shit like this,” you shot back, shaking your head at the thought of Steve posted up at the kissing booth. A stupid, shit-eating grin pasted on his face. Signature hair all perfectly coiffed. A ridiculously long line of girls just waiting to fawn over him.

“Can’t argue you on the show boat bit, but he’s still totally gonna kill me,” Robin said snorting as she spat her toothpaste into the sink.

You weren’t sure what had happened between senior year and now, but somehow your best friend had also become Steve Harrington’s best friend and it made absolutely no sense.

At first you’d been extremely skeptical, even overprotective of her, and made it a point to tag along with them where ever they were going to make sure he wasn’t going to do something shitty, but much to your chagrin he proved you wrong every single time. He was even nice and somehow made Robin ugly laugh more than you did. How dare he?

“C’mon, I don’t wanna keep Nance waiting, she’s gonna be downstairs soon,” Robin popped her head in through your door and you shot her a grin.

“Ooo, eyeliner. Are you two going out after?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows at her and she frowned, cheeks flushed.

“Yeah. Maybe. What’s it to you?”

“Nothing!” you held your hands up in surrender and gave her a little smile, “Just–it’s about damn time. You two have been dancing around each other for months.”

Robin was pretty private about her love life, especially after things hadn’t worked out with Vickie, and you were one of the only ones who really got to be in the know. Well. You and Steve, but you had to hand it to him. He at least seemed pretty damn empathetic and supportive in that regard toward Robin and you were thankful to him for it.

“What, are you keeping track?” Robin grumbled, smoothing her shirt down a bit and picking at the chipped black polish on her nails.

“You’re the one with the scoreboard,” you gently teased back, shoving your feet into the Chucks next to your dresser, but then your expression softened as you looked up at her, “You know I’m not. I’d be one to talk anyway, my love life is non-existent.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe you should try. It’s not all bad. Look at me, put myself out there and already have a date,” she said pointedly, scrunching up her nose at you.

“No, thanks,” it was your turn to grumble and you shouldered past her into the hallway.

“Wait. Wait a second. Yes. Yes, thanks!” she said, tone suddenly shifting into the one where you knew she was up to no good.

“Robs, whatever you’re about to say? Don’t,” you grabbed your wallet and chapstick off the kitchen table and turned to fix her with a look. The way she was grinning at you was horrifying. “Oh my god. What?”

“Kiss him,” she said simply and you looked at her blankly.

“What?”

“Put yourself out there! Kiss him!” she said again more enthusiastically and your stomach flipped over.

“Steve? Oh, wow. Let me go ahead and put a ‘hell’ in front of my no. No, Robs. No way,” you crammed your things into your pockets and shook your head, opening the fridge to try and find a beer. Booze suddenly felt very, extremely, necessary.

“Seriously! C’mon! What, are you chicken?” she make a little squawking noise as you cracked open the last beer hiding at the back of the fridge.

“Seriously?” you parroted back, “What, are you twelve? No, I’m not doing it.” You took a long drink from the can in your hand and grimaced as the carbonation fizzed in your nose. Too much.

“If you do, I’ll leave you alone for a whole week,” Robin’s tone was sing-songy, dragging out the vowels as she leaned on the open fridge door and smiled at you all sweetly. Full of mischief.

You waited, took another drink of beer and narrowed your eyes at her. She’d been begging you to go on a double date with her and Nancy and the thought of it made you want to throw up. Not only were double dates super cringy, but one: you didn’t have a boyfriend and two: Robin always suggested Steve and you’d immediately have to shut it down. He was absolutely not your type and there was no way you’d make it more than thirty minutes.

“Two weeks,” you countered, “And if you’re gonna hang out with him it can’t be here.”

“Deal!” she said much too quickly, sticking her hand out to you and you frowned, taking it and shaking it aggressively.

“Great. Deal.” It was just a kiss, right? Not stupid Seven Minutes in Heaven or Spin the Bottle, just cramming a dollar into a jar and a quick peck on the lips and you’d be free from Robin’s meddling for two whole weeks. Worth it.

Buzzzzz.

Someone was at the door, a Nancy Wheeler shaped someone, and the color drained from Robin’s face.

“Oh, c’mon. You’re fine, you look great,” you took another drink of your beer and then offered the last half of it to Robin who finished it off in one go.

“It’s not—“ Robin burped, beer was a bad choice, “—too much?”

“No, it’s not too much. The eyeliner is nice, really brings out the black in your heart. Now let’s get go,” you grabbed the empty can from her hand and tossed it in the recycling before shoving her toward the door.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna kiss Steve,” she said, grin tugging at the corners of her lips and your expression soured.

“Oh my god, just go,” and despite your grumbling, despite insisting on your irritation, all you could think about the entire ride over was a sliver of a memory from last summer.

It was smack in the middle of July. Sun beating down with the intent to fry you alive.

Robin had practically begged you to go get ice cream and it wasn’t like you were gonna say no. It was hotter than hell out, of course you were gonna get ice cream, but then Steve tagged along. Sat across from you in the booth and ordered a strawberry milkshake. Wrapped his perfectly pouted lips around the straw and sipped it slowly. Licked whipped cream from his fingers. Ate the cherry last and looked up at you when he’d pulled it from the stem with his teeth and for a split second all you could think about was him.

What it would taste like. What it would feel like.

What it would be like to kiss Steve Harrington.

“Bye now,” Jason was smiling all saccharine sweet. Pure sugar. Too much and too fake as the girl he’d just kissed slowly backed away from him. Unable to pull her eyes away as he leaned against the frame of the booth effortless and on display for the girls waiting in line, all of them disappointed they hadn’t beat the clock to seven.

And as Steve walked across the field to take Jason’s spot, he audibly groaned watching the other boy soak it all up.

Fuck this. He was not excited, he was not looking forward to this, and he did not want to stand anywhere near a damn kissing booth. Roughing his hands over his face he sucked in a deep breath. It was only an hour. Sixty minutes. It would fly by.

“Well, well. If it isn’t the King!”

Yeah, no. This was going to suck.

“Haven’t used that since Junior year, Carver,” Steve’s voice was flat, unamused, and when he walked up on the line a few of the girls huddled up and started to whisper.

“Ah, c’mon, Harrington. Return of the king! Back on top!” the grin that pulled at the corners of Jason’s mouth grew as he fed off Steve’s negative energy. “C’mon, the ladies love it,” and as he turned back to the line a couple girls toward the end started to walk away, “Oof, guess I’m a hard act to follow.”

Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, hands balling up at his sides as he eyed the other boy, wanting nothing more than to put a fist into Jason’s face. “It’s for charity, dumbass. Not a damn competition,” Steve grumbled as the other boy pushed himself off the wall of the booth.

“Whatever you say, King Steve. Dropping like flies. Least you’ll get out of here early,” Jason sneered and gave Steve a too-hard clap on the back. Biting down on his lip, Steve struggled to keep himself in check, struggled to keep his hands at his sides until someone else chimed in.

“Carver you better get goin’, gonna be late for Bible study,” Robin walked up on the boys with you and Nancy in tow and gave Jason a too-sweet smile of her own, “Don’t wanna let Jesus down. Well. More than you already have I guess.”

Jason’s face turned beet red and Steve stifled a laugh with a very unconvincing cough, a few scattered giggles coming from the line.

“Shut up, Buckley.”

“Tsk, tsk. How’s it go? Love your neighbor or whatever? Anyway, so nice to see you!” Robin punched him a little harder than she should’ve in the shoulder and walked up behind the counter to take over for Chrissy Cunningham. “Alright, ladies! Now that we’ve taken out the trash – come give the King of Hawkins high a big ol’ smooch and help buy new basketball uniforms! Real win/win here, friends,” her voice was so loud it made people’s heads turn over at the cake walk and Steve wanted to die.

“Jesus, Robin,” he hissed, scrambling over to take up his post under the giant red sign.

Nancy turned to you shaking her head, but smiling all fond over Robin, “I kinda feel bad for him.”

“I don’t,” you said with a laugh, watching the line perk up a bit with Robin’s encouragement as Steve looked like he wanted to pass out, giving the first girl in a line a kiss.

“You know, he’s not that bad,” Nancy said, giving you a nudge with her elbow.

Glancing back over at the booth you saw the second girl walk up and give her dollar to Robin, Steve’s face still flushed and pink, but lips just as pouted and perfect as they’d been that day at the diner. Sipping down strawberry milkshake and pulling the cherry off the stem and you felt your stomach flip over.

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, but Nancy chuckled when she saw how rosy your cheeks had grown.

“Okay, well you better get in line or you’ll have Robin on your ass worse than before,” she reminded you of your deal and you groaned. “It’ll be easy,” she said giving you a grin, “And he really is a good kisser.”

Your blush only deepened with her words and you tried to hide it, throwing your eyes down to your feet and starting to walk away, “Okay, great! Can’t wait. So awesome. Just the best.”

“Relax! It’s just a kiss!” she called over her shoulder as you fell into the last place in line behind someone from your old AP English class, trying very hard to not turn and run away.

At first it was an extremely awkward and uncomfortable exchange of events for Steve.

People would give Robin their money, she’d say thank you in her silly sing-songy Robin voice, and then they’d walk up to Steve and smile. Sometimes it was shy, sometimes it was overly aggressive, and sometimes there’d be a weird pause where they’d just stare at each other. He’d clear his throat nervously or stress about whether or not he should’ve brushed his teeth two more times before he’d left the house, but eventually she’d lean in and they’d kiss and then it’d be over.

It was ridiculous because he used to kiss random girls all the time at parties and shit in high school. Used to love it. Maybe because it stroked his ego. Because he liked showing off. Maybe he didn’t get enough affection at home. Maybe Nancy Wheeler broke his heart and he just wanted to forget, but now? Things were different now. He was different now.

He didn’t sleep around, he didn’t kiss and tell, his dating life was abysmal and this kissing booth just seemed to add insult to injury.

“Steve,” Robin whisper-yelled between customers as if she could tell he was spiraling, “You’re doing great. Only two more to go and you’re done!”

“God, Robin. Please stop talking,” Steve hissed back and gave the next girl a weak, half-hearted smile.

“Just saying–”

“Hi,” Steve cut Robin off and greeted the shorter, blonde girl he recognized from Senior year science. She was second-to-last in line ahead of you and you fought back a laugh, watching the awkwardness unfold.

“Hi, Stevie,” she purred and Steve’s stomach lurched.

Stevie? Oh god. Why?

She’d clearly just applied a fresh layer of shiny, pink gloss right before her turn came up and when she leaned in toward him, Steve waited til her eyes were closed to grimace. What? He wasn’t a monster.

It was slippery and wet and not good, but Steve gave her what he hoped was a friendly enough smile as she pulled away all starry-eyed.

“Maybe see you around? When you’re done?” she asked and he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah! Ye–maybe,” he stuttered and she slipped him a piece of paper with her number on it.

“Call me,” she winked and Steve died.

“Okay, sure. Thanks,” he stumbled over his words and when she finally turned away you watched as he screwed his eyes shut, muttering under his breath.

You caught the words stupid and want to die and you almost laughed, but it fell apart in your throat as the girl walked away and left you there. Last in line and panicking as you suddenly remembered what was supposed to happen next. Why were you just as nervous as he was?

Shaking off the last kiss, Steve was ready to just be done. Only one left Robin said, but when he looked up the pained expression on his face softened.

You.

Robin’s room mate. Her best friend. Her cute best friend. The one who fought him over best friend duties. Who teased him relentlessly and gave him shit all the time. Wasn’t afraid to eat an entire pizza on her own and always ordered a chocolate shake with sprinkles at the diner. Who wasn’t afraid to call him out on things and had a mouth like a sailor. A mouth he’d wanted to kiss more and more every time he saw you, but he could never find the right time to ask or try or make a move and–

“Oh,” fell from him, quiet and surprised and your lips twisted into a little frown.

“Oh,” you said back trying to tease, but it came out sounding a lot more hurt than anything.

Steve’s brows pinched together with worry and he took a step toward you, the most he’d moved all night. “N-no, sorry. I didn’t mean it like…” he rubbed at the back of his neck, trying hard to put words to what he was trying to say, but they weren’t coming out.

“That’s okay. S’for a good cause, right?” you shrugged and forced a smile.

“Yeah. Right,” he agreed lamely as you crammed a dollar into Robin’s hand with a glare. Two weeks better be worth it.

Then turning back to Steve you took another tiny step toward him and he did the same putting you two dangerously close. Almost toe-to-toe. The scent of fresh laundry and spearmint and boy making you feel dizzy, making you feel dumb, and when you pulled your eyes off the ground to look up at him your breath caught in your throat.

Fuck he was pretty.

That pout. The twin moles on his cheek. The soft slope of his jaw. The way his hair fell messy across his forehead and into his eyes all warm honey, liquid amber, melted caramel. He was making it hard to hold your grudge and you could feel the wall you’d put up around yourself start to crumble.

“So. We just–” you didn’t finish your sentence as he looked down at you, his lips parted, waiting, anticipating.

“Yeah. Yeah, uh–” Steve’s voice was low and made your tummy twist as he shook his head a little and leaned down. Tried to do the same thing he’d been doing all night, but suddenly so damn unsure. He paused, close enough you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, “Is this–is this okay?”

“Mmhm,” you murmured and you didn’t have to wonder anymore. You were nervous, just like he was was, and it scared the shit out of you.

“Okay, guess I’ll just–” he said, voice barely above a whisper as he closed the gap between you and finally, finally pressed his lips soft and sweet to yours.

And it was everything.

It was slow and curious and a little shy, but the feeling of him against you pushed you to be brave and you tilted your head. Deepened the kiss. Opened for him and he slipped a hand wide and warm and soft at the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair and holding you even closer.

His tongue chased along your bottom lip and you sighed into him, letting him swallow all your soft pretty sounds until you were both breathless and needing air and when he started to pull away you swore you’d give Robin every single bill in your wallet to do it again.

Steve huffed a laugh, hand still holding you gentle at your neck and you bit your lips between your teeth to fight off a grin, too caught up in each other to care about anything else until–

“Yeah, think I’m gonna need another dollar for that one,” Robin was beaming at you two like an idiot and you both fixed her with a look, all sass and attitude.

“Robin,” your voice blended with Steve’s and Robin laughed so hard she snorted.

“Oh my god, please, please make this work. Look at you two. This is ridiculous. Here, go get a drink,” and she fisted a wad of dollars from the register, counting it out and replacing it with money from her own wallet before practically shoving it at Steve.

“What–”

“No, seriously, Harrington. Leave. Get outta here. It’s eight anyway,” Robin cut Steve off and pointed at her watch. Eight on the dot. Kissing Booth closed.

“Uh,” Steve started, looking back over at you with a lopsided smile, “Wanna get a drink?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest, hummingbird wings and nerves and a feeling you hadn’t had in a long time. A tiny flicker breathed into flames when Steve pressed his lips to yours and you felt your cheeks warm again at the thought of it.

“For charity?” you teased, trying hard to will your blush away as you pulled your eyes up to meet his.

“No way,” he said, too quick and suddenly his cheeks matched yours. Pink and rosy and warm and you laughed. “No,” he tried again, smile tugging into a smug grin. Just a tiny bit King Steve, but the show of confidence made you weak in the knees, made you want to kiss him again and you grinned right back.

“Okay, but you’re driving. Robs has a hot date,” turning you winked at Robin and her jaw dropped, fighting the urge to dive over the counter and kill you.

“A hot date?” Steve’s eyes grew wide and he reached up to slap at Robin’s hands, “With Nance??”

“I’m late, gotta get this to Click, told her I’d close this up by eight so she could go home,” Robin rambled, trying to pretend like there was so much to do, but failing miserably.

“Have fun!” you teased, throwing her sing-songy tone back in her face, but she ignored you, walking off across the football field still mumbling under her breath.

You looked back to make a joke to Steve, to laugh at Robin, but the sight of him had your words dying in your throat.

"Ready?" he asked, twirling his keys on his ring finger, looking the most relaxed he’d been all night and your heart leapt, hammering against your ribcage. Deep green henley snug across his chest. Dark wash Levi’s hugging all the right places. Hair still messy in his eyes. Those eyes. One hand jammed in his pocket and dirty blue Adidas shifting on the terf, ready to get outta there. Ready to get a drink with you and dammit, Nancy was right.

He was a good kisser.

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