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loveshotzz · 3 months

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I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter one -

Late arrivals and big asks

A broken down car, a party at Reefer Rick’s, and a bandaid that needs to be ripped off.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking, lots of tension, some king!steve angst in the form of a flashback.

wc: 10.1k

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

The air is sticky, thick with the kind of humidity only Indiana could have at 9:30 pm. An annoyed breath expands into your lungs as you lean against your car that refuses to do anything but sputter. Despite your irritation, your glossed lips twitch with the nostalgia that creeps into your heart because after all these years it still smells the same.

Crossing your arms, your eyes trail over the clear night sky not polluted with the kind of man-made smog that blankets the city and the stars shimmer like diamonds in its absence. The warmth of the overrun engine is still hot on your exposed calves, the light breeze making the bottom of your sundress dance across the tops of your thighs. White beams emerge, cutting through the dark at the top of the hill, followed by the roar only a tow truck can make, and this time, the smile you fought off before spreads wide across your face.

Robin.

Butterflies wake up in a frenzy deep in your gut, with nerves that twitch from your fingertips at the thought of finally getting to hug your best friend after months apart. You push off the side of your car as the truck approaches, eyes squinting to make out the second outline in the front cabin as it pulls over. You recognize the messy mane of hair that could only belong to Eddie Munson in the driver seat almost instantly and his dimple filled smile brings you back to memories you thought you’d long forgotten.

“Well, well, well, would you look at what the cat dragged in!” Robin sticks her head out of the window with a wide grin as the big tires slow to a stop in front of your car, “are my eyes deceiving me or is my best friend in the entire world actually in Hawkins, Indiana right now?”

The rasp in her voice sounds just like it does over the phone and despite the roll of your eyes, your cheeks hurt from how happy you are.

“Shut up, don’t act like you didn’t guilt me out here by saying the fate of your future depends on it.” Uncrossing your arms, you open them wide, “I made the ultimate sacrifice for you, so are you gonna hug me or not?”

Dramatic? Yes. But it works like a charm when she flings open the passenger door and charges at you in a mess of honey blond waves and freckles, almost tackling you with the force of her impact wrapping her arms around you.

Too distracted by Robin, you almost don’t notice the creak of the driver's side door or the filled out frame of the man that used to be a lanky teenage boy walking past as Eddie starts to attach your car to his truck. He’s taller than you remembered even bending down, and despite the navy blue coveralls, you can still see that his pale skin is littered with even more tattoos.

“I can’t believe my guilt trip worked!” Robin beams, finally letting you go, her whole body practically vibrating with excitement as she claps her ring clad hands together.

“I really can’t believe it either,” you laugh nervously, the reality of what it means to come back starting to set in after seeing just one familiar face, but this isn’t high school anymore and you’re definitely not the same person you were five years ago either.

“Thanks so much, Eddie,” you break the ice when he stands back up, and the sound of your voice has his big brown eyes warmed with gold light up just like his face when he turns his full attention onto you. Scruff filled dimples poking even bigger holes in his cheeks.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart, I almost didn’t believe Robin when she called me. I thought it was a prank.” He beckons you over with open arms, “now that I know it’s not, you have exactly 10 seconds to get over here and hug me before I change my mind.”

There’s zero hesitation about giving into his ‘demand’ and when your arms wrap around his waist, you’re brought back to afternoons in the woods behind the school with heavy lidded eyes and lopsided grins.

“Your own auto shop, huh?” You smile up at him, pulling away, “Eddie Munson, the business owner.”

He rolls his eyes but the pink tint that colors in his cheeks tells you he appreciates the praise.

“Yeah, something like that.” He chuckles, “Got a soft spot for that old man in the trailer park, couldn’t bring myself to leave.”

Your heart warms at the fondness that drips from his ton.

“Okay, as sweet as this little reunion is. You’re late, and we have a party to get to.” Robin interrupts snatching your keys out of your hand, dropping them in Eddie’s.

“A party?” You snap confused, and Eddie takes that as his queue to walk away with a knowing smirk.

“Yes, this is the summer of fun and reckless abandon, this is the last summer of our youth before we have to be adults. Do you understand me?” Her fingers are digging into your shoulders by the end of her rant, with the kind of look in her eyes that you’re absolutely going to have to revisit after a few weeks.

“This is the part where I remind you that I graduated college last year.”

Your best friend scoffs at you.

“Just humor me, okay? It’s your grand homecoming.” She pushes out her bottom lip, and makes her eyes big in a way she knows you can’t say no to.

“Fine.” You huff, making her finally let you go with the kind of pleased smirk that tells you she never thought she was going to lose to begin with.

“Great, it’s time to rip the bandaid off anyway.” Robin practically mumbles the last part turning on her heel to head back to the truck.

It takes a minute for her words to stick to your ears and their meaning to ring loud through your head, but when they do it feels like the air is stolen from your lungs.

“Rip what bandaid off, Robin?!”

It’s his name tightens in your chest but you refuse to say it, even after all this time it burns coming back up.

“Since you had to drive for so long, I’ll sit in the middle because I’m just that good of a friend, you know?” She winks with a shit eating grin before pulling herself up and disappearing inside the cab of the truck, ignoring your question, like she’s not asking you to do the one thing you said you’d never do.

See Steve Harrington again.

I tell myself, ‘draw the line.’

You wonder if Robin can feel the daggers you’re glaring into the back of her head as the two of you walk up the driveway to Rick’s house. Gravel crunching hard under your converse as you keep up with her black combat boots. She looks effortlessly cool in her high waisted jean shorts, and her oversized army green jacket covered in patches. You’d compliment her if you weren’t so mad.

“I can’t believe you guys still have parties here.” You scoff, making your sour attitude known, but your best friend ignores it with ease.

“I can’t believe you forgot to have fun. Don’t you live in the city?” Turning around with a smirk, she can’t help but laugh at the look on your face.

She stops abruptly, almost making you run into her leaving you both just close enough to the party to hear the bass of the music spilling through the cracks in the windows. The low chatter of people echoes through the trees that surround you and bounce off the lake not that far away. The thought of hearing the calm baritone of his voice mixed in makes your chest tight with the kind of nerves that dare you to high tail it and run.

“It’s been five years.” Robin’s playful demeanor breaks and becomes pleading with a kind of desperation you’ve never seen from her before. “He’s not the person you knew in high school, I need you to understand that. You think I’d call someone like that my best friend?”

“Hey!-“ You object at the title, and it makes her lips twitch despite serious lines that crease her face.

“Stop, you know what I mean,” her painted fingers grab onto yours, squeezing them lightly, “please, just give him a chance. I’m not asking you to get back together or even be friends, just get along enough not to kill each other this summer. I can’t choose between you. I won’t.”

The genuine love she has for Steve is apparent in the way her ocean blue eyes threaten to drown you in their sincerity, and you can’t find it in yourself to say no to her.

“Fine.” You accept your defeat in practically a whisper, but it makes your best friend squeal nonetheless. The giddiness from before coming back tenfold as she links arms with you, continuing your way up to the house.

It’s just a summer, right?

The crowd gets bigger as more people start to come into view, between groups smoking cigarettes outside, couples arguing by cars, others making out against them. The smell of beer gets more pungent with each step, the atmosphere a stark contrast to the way the moon glows against the peaceful waters behind the madness of the house.

Salt N Pepa’s ‘Push It’ plays loud enough for you to make out the words when you reach the front steps, walking through clouds of tobacco smoke to get to the unlocked door. The interior hasn’t changed at all since high school, the smell of stale lime and tequila stinging your nose. The bass of the music vibrates under your shoes as Robin unlinks her arms and you have to fight the urge to yank her back.

“Drinks or …Steve first?” She asks, her nerves about the situation finally showing themselves as she bites at her thumbnail.

“Absolutely drinks! Is that a trick question?” You half whisper, half yell, looking around as if saying his name out loud might summon him.

“Okay! Okay!” Robin hisses, grabbing your wrist, leading you towards the familiar path to Rick’s kitchen.

Suddenly you wonder what your makeup looks like after a long day of traveling in your car, your fingers tugging at the bottom of your dress before adjusting the front of it so it sits just right. You itch to grab your lip gloss that’s tucked into the side of your bra, but you don’t want to deal with the look you’d get if you went for it.

Rounding the corner to the living room, your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach before you even have a chance to stop it when your eyes meet that messy head of chestnut hair, and a pair of hot pink nails tangled inside it.

“Oh - I - god dammit.” Robin groans, when you're met with number two on your list, making out with a pretty blond on the couch.

Despite the years and distance, there’s still a sting that you feel in the corners of your eyes. It’s not enough for any tears to fall, there’s none left for him anymore, but it’s enough for the anger you’ve clung to since the day he broke your heart to boil hot under your skin. It singes the wings of the butterflies that try to take flight when you see the way his frame has filled out, how he’s somehow grown more handsome than the last time you saw him.

Robin coughs, squeezing your wrist in reassurance.

“Hey, - uh, Steve.” The sound of his name catches his attention, long brown lashes fluttering open to reveal the deep coffee of his eyes that widen when they lock with yours for the first time in years.

His lips pull from the blond’s with a loud smack, leaving a small trail of glitter on the side of his mouth that he tries to wipe away quickly with his wrist. Black ink you’ve never seen before looks bold on his tanned skin that glows like it’s been freshly kissed by the sun.

His gaze wanders up and down your body like he’s unsure you’re actually real, and if it wasn’t for the obvious shock of your arrival and the way the color seems to drain from his face, you’d snap at him for the way it lingers over your curves.

“Um, Robin, what the fuck?” The sound of his voice makes your heart skip a beat, and again when his hand drags through his hair just how you remembered.

“Surprise?” She shrugs, wincing when he scoffs loudly and the warmth that went missing floods his cheeks, turning them bright red. The blond next to him eyes you up while she clutches harder to his waist, and you can’t stop the rise of your brows and the giggle that bubbles past your lips because of it.

Steve’s head snaps towards you, something softening the moss that hides in his eyes when he hears the noise despite the sarcasm that drips from it, and you really get to look at him for the first time since high school graduation.

God, you wish you could’ve had that drink.

The jawline that always drove you mad is sharper, peppered with the kind of hardly there stubble that tells you he’s only missed one shaving day. A problem he never used to have, and somehow, it makes him all that much more attractive.

His hair is a little messier than his carefully crafted look that used to take him a good forty five minutes every morning. It curls wildly at the ends now, tucking behind his ears and fanning along the nape of his freckled neck. It still looks as soft as you remember, though.

His shoulders are broader, stretching the white cotton of his shirt tight enough across his chest that you can see the outline of a thick patch of hair that had only just started growing when you knew him last. The dark wash of his jeans makes them look almost black, fitting snug over his thighs, cuffed at the bottoms framing the tops of his boots.

Why couldn’t Steve Harrington just peak in high school like he was supposed to?

“So yeah, this is awkward.” Your best friend laughs nervously, “We’re going to get a drink or three because this scenario is by far the worst case and not the way this was supposed to go in my head, but anyway, look who’s here for the summer! We’ll talk later!“

Robin grabs your wrist before Steve can respond, pulling you back into the party and away from your ex-boyfriend while the realization of the summer you’ve foolishly agreed to hits you all at once. It turns your body weightless as the two of you weave in and out of the crowd. It tightens in your chest, the music turning muffled hitting your ear drums. Suddenly, you're not the woman who crossed state lines to the one place she said she’d never come back to, happily living the lie that you’d actually forgotten about him to be a good friend.

You’re the girl who let him keep you a secret, and you hate him for it.

Sneakers hit the sticky tile floor that hasn’t changed since 1984, the harsh lighting of the kitchen makes you both squint. It’s calmer than the rest of the house, just a few groups lingering off in the corners, too deep in conversation to care about you and Robin. Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your ears start to pop too, Eddie Money’s Take Me Home Tonight coming through crystal clear.

“The band-aid might have been violently ripped off, but hey, it’s ripped off nonetheless.” Robin shrugs, finding the half-drunk bottle of tequila on the counter. “I think we should count this as a win and take a shot to celebrate.”

“A win?! Are you kidding me?!” You hiss, completely bewildered.

“Yes a win - oh no.” Her blue eyes go wide at whatever’s behind you, but it doesn’t take you long to figure out when that familiar spice and cedar of his cologne hits your nose.

“Right so, who’s going to let me know what’s going on?”

His voice comes out close enough to send your lashes fluttering, mimicking your heart. The nerves you’d just gotten over threaten to come back tenfold, but you manage to swallow them down just like in high school, turning around.

“I think it’s obvious what’s going on, Steve,”

It’s not as hard to say his name as you thought it would be, but it is hard to stare at his face from this close. Specifically, the two moles that dot his cheek that you always used to kiss, or the ones on his neck that you hate still taunt you for more.

“I’m here for the summer.”

Steve Harrington had thought about this moment a lot, but Rick’s house was never the backdrop for it. His eyes take in the features you’ve not only grown into but somehow are even more beautiful than he remembers. Even if they’re twisted in a glare.

“I meant, why didn’t I know until right now?” He manages to get out with a shake of his head narrowing his eyes at Robin, who’s too busy trying to find clean shot glasses to notice.

“Why would you need to know?” You snap, making a nervous hand card through his hair

“Cause I’ve, uh, you know, I’ve asked about you a few times,” the last part comes out a little harsher, clearly directed at your best friend, who you know is actively ignoring you both now.

“Why? Why would you need to know anything about me?” Your hostility still shocks him even though he was expecting it. His eyebrows shoot up just like his hands in surrender. “Why didn’t you tell me, Robin?”

She groans loudly, slamming the tequila bottle down on the counter before turning around.

“You said you didn’t want to hear anything about him after you moved, why would I tell you he was asking about you?”

“Wait -“ Steve butts in this time, “seriously?”

“Oh my god, can you two shut the fuck up for a second and take these shots? You’re really putting a damper on the beginning of the best summer of our lives,” Robin snaps before waving a hand in front of three freshly poured shots.

It’s a struggle to tear your eyes from him, your body responding to his presence in a way that feels like it’s turning against you. It has you downing your shot in one quick motion before anyone else can even touch theirs.

“Wow, okay.” Robin deadpans before shaking her head, wasting no time in following your lead.

“So we’re not cheersing anymore? Isn’t that bad luck?” Steve mutters, shoulder brushing against yours as he leans forward to grab his shot, the slightest touch enough to engulf your skin into flames.

A whole summer? Fuck.

“Robin, pour another one.” You rush with pinched brows as you try to move past the bitter sting of the alcohol going down your throat, taking a step toward her and away from him, you add “and we’ll cheers.”

You refuse to meet his gaze when you say it, but you can feel the intensity of it on the side of your face, begging you to break.

“Rob’s, how are you guys getting home?” Steve finally breaks, giving up his quiet fight for now, and you hate the way his nickname for her softens your heart.

“Huh, that’s a good question, I hadn’t thought that far yet.” She admits, over pouring so tequila splashes against the countertop, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Seriously–

“RECKLESS ABANDON STEVEY!” Cutting him off, she downs her shot in his disapproving face.

“You didn’t cheers again.” Steve sighs, hands finding his hips as you whine an irritated, “We needed to cheers!” At the same time.

Your eyes meet his finally, his knowing smirk twisting the corners of your lips despite yourself. You blame the tequila starting to warm the blood in your veins.

“Well, you need to take yours then if we’re doing another one ‘the proper’ way, or it’s not going to be even.” Robin points at your drink in a silent challenge.

You know how this game works.

“Fine.” You shrug, downing it with more ease than the last one.

“Oh my god. Stop! Do not pour another one before you answer my question, please!” Steve sounds exasperated, grabbing the bottle from her before she can disobey, “How are you getting home?”

You try not to focus on how much larger his already big hands are now, or how small the bottle looks wrapped up in his palm compared to your best friends. The second shot takes the edge off your nerves in a way that your shoulders relax. Leaning against the counter, you cross your arms, watching the two of them bicker, catching Steve’s wandering gaze on your exposed legs while he tries his best to keep his focus on Robin. It boosts your ego in a way that has the anger hiding just under the surface go from a boil to a slow simmer.

“I don’t know Harrington, do you know anybody with a car?” She wiggles two thick brows at him, the second shot making her blue eyes glassy, and her smile a little more goofy.

“Why’d I know you were going to say that? And why did I know you were going to do this?” Steve sighs, letting her snatch the bottle out of his hand.

“What? Bring her to the party?” Robin snorts pointing a thumb in your direction, making you gasp.

“Robin!”

“No! What? No. But don’t think,” Steve clears his throat looking at you awkwardly before finishing a little quieter, “don’t think we’re not going to talk about this later.”

“I can still hear you.” You remind him with a sarcastic smirk.

“Yeah, I know you can. Look, I’ll DD for you because obviously tonight is, uhh,” he gestures to you with cheeks that grow pinker by the second, “a big deal. But you gotta stop doing this to me, I need you to get your license you’re out of colleg-”

“Shots! Steve’s driving us home!” Robin whoops loudly, and an irritated Steve pinches the bridge of his nose before walking away.

Your eyes follow him out the door, shoulder blades flexing under cotton when he runs another hand through his hair before disappearing from sight. You try to push down the small pang of jealousy that makes a familiar home inside your chest remembering the blond girl waiting for him on the couch.

“Okay, okay,” Robin interrupts your inner struggle at the perfect time, sliding an overflowing shot over to you with a giggle that's contagious and it banishes Steve from your mind just like magic. “I’m not going to forget this time, promise.”

“I don’t think I can afford for you to forget again,” you smirk, raising your glass, tequila spilling over the tops of your fingers, “cheers!”

“Cheers!”

You both down them at the same speed, slamming the empty glasses back onto the countertop with laughter that bounces off the walls and threatens to drown out the music. And for a second you think maybe you can actually do this.

“I’m so happy you’re here!” She squeals, throwing her arms around your neck, doing a terrible job of holding her weight up. Grabbing onto her waist, you do your best to steady her, “Look I just want to say while he’s gone, I know this isn’t easy for you, okay? I know.”

She hiccups before pulling away slightly to look at you as she finishes,“But It means so much to me, and I just wanna say I’m proud of you. I mean, who knows, you’ve changed, he’s changed-”

“Nope, no, you’re done. Where’s the weed? I wanna smoke some weed.” You push Robin away, rolling your eyes at the loud laugh your reaction gets from her.

There’s a long summer ahead of you, but right now, all you need is to find a joint and try not to think about your ex in the next room.

With a few more shots and a couple of hits from a blunt you and Robin you’d stumbled upon being passed amongst a group outside, you start to really feel like you’re back home. Nostalgia hits you hard in the gut as you walk through the crowded living room hand in hand with your best friend, giggling and stumbling back to the kitchen on the hunt for some food.

“God, I’m so hungry!” Robin practically growls when you hit the harsh lighting again making you both hiss.

An empty bottle of tequila sits on the counter now and red solo cups litter the floor that weren’t there before, and a growing pile of bitten into limes cover the counters in a sticky mess. Alone and left to your own devices Robin begins to raid the cupboards, huffing when she finds nothing behind every door she aggressively yanks open.

“Why is his kitchen always so empty? Like? Do we just always miss the party?” You hiccup, tripping on a tile that’s coming out of the grout.

You catch yourself on the kitchen island in front of you, a loud laugh bubbling up from your chest, too drunk to focus on how gross the formica feels under your fingertips.

“There’s literally nothing to eat in here, not even like an old bag of stale chips.” She opens the first cabinet one last time before slamming it shut, officially giving up with a thump of her forehead against the wood. “This is why he’s always at the diner.”

“Wait, Rick actually lives here still?” Another hiccup, you foolishly lean your elbows on the counter, something you’ll regret in the morning as you stare at your best friend with a toothy smile, completely unaffected by the news about the missing food that seems to be ruining her entire mood.

“How can he sell weed and not have any food in his house? What happens when he gets the munchies?!” She throws her hands up, ignoring your question and answering it all at the same time. “I’m gonna find a bathroom, and then we’re gonna find Steve - don’t make that face, he’ll take us through a drive-thru.”

“Don’t be gone long, I don’t know anyone here!” You whine with a childish drunk stomp of your foot, still sporting that sour look she told you to wipe off. The carefree girl from moments before now gone in the blink of an eye.

“Literally like five minutes, I swear!” She promises, turning around with a smirk as she crosses her heart with a ring covered finger like you used to do as kids, easily earning the smile from you she was hoping for.

You watch her disappear into the party, staring after bouncing honey waves until they’re out of your sight.

Suddenly alone for the first time in hours, the kitchen feels quiet. The bass of the music is distant, and your thoughts are heavy just like your feet as your last shot of tequila settles with the rest. Your brain wanders to places that you thought you’d banished from the corners of your mind for years. It takes you to the pink fullness of his lips, and has you biting the bottom of yours. Then it’s the freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and explode across his cheeks, even leaving their mark on the bottom of his earlobe.

You’d found that one the night you’d tried to count them all. You never finished.

Then you remember the blond on the couch, and how her pink nails dug into the thick chestnut of his hair that you used to tug on when his kisses got to be too much. She turns into Nancy Wheeler and those stolen looks in the hallways at school, and suddenly, you hate him all over again.

“Jesus, you’re in here alone? Where’s Robin?” Steve’s voice makes you jump at the worst possible time, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scar-“

“Seriously?!” You snap, turning around with crossed arms. Leaning against the counter, you hope that you don’t seem as drunk as you are, but the way his lips twitch regardless of your attitude tells you that it’s not working. “She went to the bathroom and then was going to look for you.”

“So, it just makes sense for me to hang out here then, right?”Steve raises his hands in a silent plea for permission.

His big boots take heavy steps towards you, and just like on cue, has your body betraying you. The plush dough of your thighs pressing harder together each time he gets closer to closing the gap.

Cautiously taking the spot a few feet away from you, he keeps his hands up till he feels safe enough to shove them in his pockets. The spice of his cologne smells fresh, and you wonder if he sprayed it before walking in here. It overpowers everything else around you, invading your senses and committing itself to memory despite you.

“I um, I really hope this is okay to say,” he stammers watching the way one of your eyebrows arches up, and it doesn’t take long for his hand to escape from his pocket to run through his hair again, “but it’s, it’s good to see you. I m-missed you, Robin’s missed you.”

“Shouldn’t you be hanging out with your girlfriend?” You ignore him and tuck his words away to unpack another time with a sober mind.

“Cassie? She’s not my girlfriend.” He answers without any hesitation, something sparking alive inside the gold of his eyes that has one side of his mouth tugging up.

“Does she know that?”

“I’m pretty sure she does considering she left with another guy not that long ago.” He snorts, the confidence you’ve always known him to have finding its way back, and you don’t miss the way he scoots closer.

So you scoot back.

“Sucks to suck, Harrington.” You sigh, impressed with how well you’re playing off the victory lap you’re shamefully running in your head at the new information.

“There you are!” Robin rushes in, face flushed and out of breath, interrupting the moment you weren’t ready to have yet at the perfect time “Somehow I got roped into like a keg stand and I think it’s really time for us to go home guys.”

“Robin!”

“What?!”

She tries to shush you, but even you can see from across the room the way sweat starts to bead across her forehead, the blush in her cheeks going pale before she runs to the trash can. Steve pushes off the island without any hesitation, rushing to the other side of the kitchen, gathering her hair in his hands to hold it back.

“What were you thinking?” Steve scolds her in the softest way possible, rubbing her back as all the beer finds its way out of her body.

Those big eyes of his that you’re sure are going to haunt your dreams meet yours, and in that moment the room decides it wants to spin. You’re not sure if it’s the night of tequila with nothing but a weed chaser catching up to you or if it’s the onslaught of feelings you’ve successfully suppressed for the last five years coming back to seek their revenge. The deadly combination of both comes to a head the more you watch the gentle way Steve handles Robin and it makes you realize it’s time to go.

You manage to pull yourself together enough to help Steve get Robin in his car, heart almost stopping when you walk up to the same Maroon BMW he took your virginity in. It takes everything inside of you not to abort the mission, run to Robin’s apartment by figuring your way through the woods you used to play in, do anything but sit in those leather seats. But your best friend’s drunk rambles of how happy she is to have her ‘two amigos and how that it makes three now’ while professing her undying love for both of you has you putting on a brave face, and then your big girl pants when you have to sit in the front seat next to him.

It’s in perfect condition, just like the morning he pulled into the parking lot Junior year with it. Your stomach twists in the kind of knots that have you wrapping your arms around your waist. The smell of leather and pine pulling on the back of your throat, and all the memories that come with it. He keeps the radio low, and you can hardly make out the faint sounds of whatever late night talk show was on over the soft snores of a passed out Robin in the backseat.

“I thought you’d have a different car by now.” You grumble sinking further into your seat, keeping your eyes trained on the trees that zoom past your window.

“You’ll have to pry her from my cold, dead hands, honey.” Steve chuckles, relaxing a little more into his own, a big hand finding a new resting spot on the stick shift.

The endearment sends you reeling, the tequila making it hard to bite your tongue.

“Don’t call me that.” Quickly realizing that staring out the window does nothing to help your already dicey equilibrium, you decide to finally look at him, but you’re not sure if that’s any better.

‘What? Honey?” He asks, fully knowing the answer but egging you on just the same with a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Narrowing your eyes, you turn fully in your seat doing your best to ignore the way the street lights bounce off his sharp features as you face him.

“What? So you just make out with girls that you’re not dating and get away with it?”

Steve snorts, licking his lips and meeting your angry gaze with an amused one.

“I am twenty-four and single.”

Scoffing at his answer, you pause to collect your words that keep getting tangled on the tip of your tongue from too many drinks and how the whites of his teeth start to show in a grin as he glances in the rearview mirror to check on Robin.

“You think you can do whatever you want don’t you?”

“No -“

“What? Because you didn’t peak in high school like you were supposed to, you somehow just got hotter, you think the rules don’t apply to you or something?”

“Good to know you still think I’m hot.” Steve’s face cracks into a smile, turning into an apartment complex you’re assuming is Robin’s.

“You’re the worst,” you try to deflect weakly, turning back in your seat with a huff.

“I definitely used to be,” he mumbles mostly to himself, putting the car in park, both of you jerking forward slightly. The sudden lack of movement makes Robin groan in the back, lashes fluttering open to look at her surroundings.

“Oh, thank god, I think I’m gonna be sick again.” Her throat sounds hoarse when she finally speaks, but it’s all she can manage before a dry heave has the boy next to you scrambling.

“Not in my car! Not in my car!” Steve’s quick to jump out of the driver's seat rushing to get your best friend out of the back, leaving you alone to fight with your seatbelt.

Frustrated, you blow a breath out from between your pressed lips tugging on the smooth material while your thumb smashes the release button. It doesn’t budge and the cedar starts to pick at your nerves. An angry noise squeaks from the back of your throat catching Steve’s attention who finally gets Robin on her feet. The spice of his cologne swallows you whole when he emerges back into the car. Leaning over the console he’s gentle when he pushes your hand away. You don’t protest his help this time, eyes tracing the gold chain that slips out from under his shirt. It shimmers everytime it swings from his neck when it hits the moonlight, clicking the button with ease, releasing you from your self imposed trap.

“Thanks,” you grumble, using a wobbling arm to open your door, clambering out less gracefully than you intended.

“Are you good to follow me? I don’t think Robin’s gonna make it up the steps on her own.” Closing the car door, he leans over the top of it, his eyes watching the way you maneuver around his car like you’re walking on thin ice.

“I’m fine,” you growl, right as you lose your footing catching yourself with an open palm on the hood of his trunk.

“Seriously, I can help I just have to take you both one at a -“

“Steve, I said I’m fine. I don’t need anything from you.” You interrupt and if you weren’t so focused on putting one foot in front of the other, you’d see the way the harshness of your words make him wince.

He stares at you for a minute longer before muttering a quiet ‘whatever’ scooping Robin up and tucking her into his side. You follow them at your own pace up the cement steps to the second floor, thankful that her apartment isn’t too far from the landing when you get to the top. Your legs start to feel like Jell-O waiting for him to unlock the door, the long drive from New York and the night finally catching up to you in a way that makes your eyelids heavy as Steve pushes open her front door.

“Bathroom! Bathroom!” Robin manages to get out when she and Steve cross the threshold first, a string of cuss words spilling out of his mouth as he tries to hurry her to the place she was begging to be taken to.

You use the full force of your weight with your back to the door, closing behind you with a loud slam. The navy blue couch in the middle of her living room begging you to sit down, an invitation your clumsy steps accept, leading you to the fluffy cushions. Collapsing onto them with a satisfied hum, you sink into the foam, lashes fluttering and eyelids getting heavier with each second that passes, and soon you find yourself giving in with a warm cheek pressed into the arm rest.

You don’t know how much time has passed when the feeling of your laces being tugged loose stirs you awake. Trying to focus with vision still blurry from sleep, Steve’s messy head of hair comes clear into your line of sight. Long fingers pull the white strings from the metal eyelets of your converse, a warm palm wrapping around your ankle that sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly wiggles your sneaker off your foot. The white tube socks that cover your feet make him smile with a thumb that dares to rub a small circle on your skin before dropping it to work on the other.

“Steve,” you manage to get out, voice still thick with sleep.

“I’m just tucking you in, that’s all hon- and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He clears his throat after the nickname that set you off earlier burns like acid dying on his tongue.

You grumble something unintelligible, rubbing the mascara off your eyes as he pulls your other shoe off the pad of his thumb doing the same thing to your other ankle making your toes curl. Both his hands find their way to your calves squeezing softly at the muscles before he starts to lift them up.

“Come on, let's get you laying on your side.” He coos, helping you adjust so you��re finally horizontal. You groan a little, reaching out for him on instinct, the softness of his touch making a very drunk you crave more.

“I’d love to cuddle but I think you’d actually kill me in the morning,” he laughs to himself knowing you won’t remember any of this when you wake up.

You make some more noises that he can’t figure out if they're supposed to be words or not as he drapes Robin’s thick throw blanket over you. Grabbing the material in your fists when you feel it, you pull it even closer, a low satisfied hum spilling from between your lips that still sparkle with leftover glitter from your gloss. He watches the way you curl into yourself, fingers twitching at his side to run his knuckles over your cheek.

“Steve,” his name comes out clear as day, kicking up his heart rate.

“Yeah?” He squats down next to your face, the warmth of your breath hitting his face while your eyebrows furrow in your sleepy state trying to get whatever you want to say out.

“You really broke my heart, you know that?”

Your words punch the air out of his lungs, just like your unexpected arrival. Something he’s fantasized about happening more times than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, I know.” He sighs defeated, giving into his urges for comfort with knuckles that brush against the warmth of your skin, a familiar burn stings his eyes when you subconsciously lean into it.

You don’t say anything else to him, the furrow of your brows smoothing out as your face finally starts to relax under his touch. He watches the way your shoulders move with each deep breath that pulls you further into sleep and away from him.

He takes a selfish minute to stare at you uninterrupted, tracing your cheekbone one last time before he stands up to leave, he knows he won’t get any sleep, and the words you won’t remember saying are already haunting him like a bad dream.

“Do you really wanna love me like you say you do? Give it to me like you say you do? Cause it’s hard enough you gotta treat me like this, lonely enough to let you treat me like this. Do you really love me?”

Steve was late, glancing down at pink the digital watch on your wrist, fifteen minutes late. Five lockers down from his, you wait for him at what’s been your meeting spot for the last eight months. Far away enough from his locker that no one would suspect you waiting for the King of Hawkins himself, but close enough to the janitor's closet for him to steal you away from sight without anyone noticing for the forty-five minutes of study hall.

Hushed argumentative whispers catch your attention, nerves making your feet move from side to side unsure if you should abandon ship and just go and study for the final in your last period. Nancy Wheeler's eyes meet yours as she rounds the corner with her best friend Barb, the corners of her lips pulling up ever so slightly giving you a small wave which you return as she tries to ignore her friend.

“He’s just trying to get in your pants! Come on, you have to be smart enough to know that.” Barb points at the note Nancy is clutching in her hand so hard that the whites of her knuckles show.

“It’s not like that, I’m just tutoring him.” She argues but the blush that creeps across her cheeks and spreads down her neck gives her away.

I’m just tutoring him.

That simple sentence is enough for your world to tip off its axis, chest tightening at the realization of who they're arguing about. All the canceled plans the past few weeks with the excuse of extra tutoring starts to feel like a knife to the gut. Prince Charming rounds the corner holding and twists the handle with a bright flirtatious smile that used to be just for you, only now it’s flashed at the dainty brunette who melts under it because no one is immune to Steve Harrington.

It takes him a minute to see you, too wrapped up in Nancy who’s back is pressed to the lockers, caged in by Steve’s big hand splayed against the metal by her head. They’re too far to hear what he’s saying to her, but the confident way his teeth flash and the sweet giggle he earns from it tells you everything you need to know. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing them fall. Fists clenched at your sides, the blunt ends of your nails dig into your palms as you hold in the sob that threatens to give you away as you walk past them, meeting his guilty eyes before you round the corner.

The pounding in your head wakes you up before the sun that leaks through Robin’s small kitchen window. Your hangover rings in your ears with a vengeance, and has you letting out a pained groan. Everything after the joint you shared outside at the party is nothing but a blur, a scattered puzzle with pieces missing as you try and figure out how you ended up back home and tucked into the couch.

“Are you alive out there?” Robin’s voice calls out weakly from down the hall in her room.

“Barely,” you grumble, agitation kicking in from dehydration and the old wounds your dream decided to rip open.

“I’d say I’m never drinking again but we both know that’s a lie,” she says, muffled by what sounds like a pillow.

A giggle tries to escape, but it only makes you wince, clutching your forehead willing the pain to subside.

“How’d we even get home?” You croak, rubbing harshly at your eyes before attempting to sit up, covering them with a cupped palm as your surroundings get brighter.

“Steve,” Robin’s voice comes out right next to you, surprising you by appearing in the entryway.

Hearing his name out loud sends the kind of rage that scorches through your veins, it burns from your fingertips remembering the look on his face when you broke up a few weeks after that day in the hallway your dreams so sweetly reminded you of.

It was Pity.

Your best friend ignores your silence and the sour look on your face as you silently take a trip down memory lane while she shuffles into the living room wandering to the attached kitchen.

“How far is Eddie’s shop from here?” You grimace watching her chug from a carton of orange juice.

“Oh, super close. You can walk from here.” She answers, wiping her upper lip with the back of your hand, “they opened like two hours ago, I’m sure he’s already looked at your car.”

“I think I’m going to shower and go over, do you want to come with me?” Raising your hands above your head, you stretch your sore muscles as a yawn comes out in the middle of your question.

“I think I need to rot in bed for a little while longer before I go walk amongst the living, I promise I’m all yours after I don’t feel like a freaking crypt keeper.” Your yawn is contagious, giving you a view of all her perfectly straight teeth.

“I demand something greasy for lunch when I get back then.” You point at her finding your footing on the carpet, noticing your converse are tucked nice and neat against the couch next to you. The feeling of Steve’s knuckles is a ghost against your skin, details starting to come out clear from the murky waters.

Heat rushes to your cheek at the memory while your emotions start to go at war with each other over what to feel towards the man who tucked you and your best friend in last night, but also broke your heart in a way you don’t think you’ll ever quite forget.

“I’m on it boss, god, I wish Benny’s was still open.” Robin interrupts the inner struggle she’s oblivious to you having as she walks past you flinging herself on the couch you’d just won the battle of leaving “But I’ll think of something good, I promise.”

Just like your yawn, the smile she gives you is contagious despite the sharp pain you get in your head from moving too much and you both laugh wincing when it only gets worse.

Ibuprofen first, then your car.

Birds chirp loudly, mocking the headache that's turned into something more annoying than painful after a handful of ibuprofen. The sticky air is still suffocating even in a pair of black biker shorts and an oversized loose fitting tee, while the sun shines golden against the cerulean sky without a cloud in sight to hide you from its light.

The heat warming off its rays makes beads of sweat start to collect at the crown of your head and the nape of your neck, while the incline Eddie’s spinning auto body sign sits on top of threatens to take your breath away. Unwanted thoughts of Steve Harrington keep your pace quick, stewing over the last twenty-four hours and everything it’s unraveled.

The small parking lot is empty when you reach it, kicking small rocks with the toe of your sneaker as you cross it. The double garage doors are open, Metallica’s Seek and Destroy echoing loudly, tugging up the corners of your lips. Your Chevrolet Caprice is the only car semi-lifted in the air with a pair navy coverall-clad legs underneath it.

Opening your mouth, Eddie’s name dies on your tongue before you get a chance to shout it, clocking him and his wild curls sitting in the glass office inside. Those big brown eyes meet yours from across the way, a dimple filled grin lighting up his face waving excitedly from his chair before standing up.

“Glad to see you’re alive, princess.” He teases stepping out of his glass case, with coveralls that are gray today.

“Honestly, it’s a miracle,” you laugh, confused eyes darting to the large boots under your car that don’t seem to have any reaction to the sound of your voice.

“Oh, I heard all about your first night back home. In fact my shop opened thirty minutes late because of it,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the open metal frame where the door should be. Faded bats that you remember when they were fresh dancing across his arm with his movements.

“Wait, what?” You ask, confusion pinching your brows together right as the mysterious pair of legs start pushing out whoever’s under your car.

“I didn’t get back to my place till almost four in the morning after getting you two home and in bed,” Steve emerges flashing you his million dollar smile as he sits up on the dolly, the sleeves of his own coveralls tied tight around his waist and hair wild like he’d just rolled out of bed, “I slept through my alarm.”

The immediate glare that hardens your face when you see him has Eddie's eyes light with obvious amusement.

“What are you doing here? And why are you touching my car?” You snap, trying to push the worries about what you look like deep under the irritation and the distraction that begs to steal your anger with his arms on full display like this. Or how the patch of chest hair that peeks out the top of it shines with sweat.

“I work here,” Steve snorts like it’s the most obvious conclusion, because, well, it is, “and I volunteered to look at it, Eddie’s got his hands full.”

That was a lie, he begged him.

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Snorting, your attitude makes him roll his eyes, pushing himself off the ground.

It’s a struggle to hold his gaze when he stands at full height, biceps flexing with his movements practically daring you to look. He pulls out a faded maroon rag from his pocket and starts wiping off the fresh black from his hands that’s already stained under his nail beds. The hard bottoms of his work boots making their way across the cement floors of the garage.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me anymore, that’s what happens when someone leaves for five years.” Steve antagonizes, his lack of sleep leaving him with thin patience.

He stops just close enough for you to smell how the woodsy spice of his cologne mixes with the sweet bitterness of the oil that seems to find a way to leave its mark on every surface in here. Including him.

“I’m going to finish balancing the books, why don’t you tell her the good news first and then the bad,” Eddie pours ice over the tension that threatens to boil over before it can turn hostile, catching the way both of your nostrils flare and shoulders square up.

“Wait, there’s good news and bad news?” Your focus on Steve shifts as Eddie’s words sink in.

“Like I said, I’m going to finish balancing the books.” The metal head reminds you, giving a half salute with two fingers while simultaneously shooting a stern look to Steve who’s mouthing something behind you. “Your mechanic’s going to go over everything with you, we can talk about pricing when it’s all said and done.”

“Seriously?” You bluster as Eddie shrugs with the kind of nonchalance that sends you reeling before sitting back down, tuning the dial-up on the radio in his office. End of discussion.

“Look -“

“How do I even know that you know what you’re talking about?” You interrupt, making his full lips set into a straight line.

“Are you going to be like this the whole time?” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, the tops of his shoulders moving with them.

A pleading expression softens his features instead of the hard combative one you were anticipating, and it helps your blood pressure return to normal. The realization hitting you that maybe skipping breakfast with a hangover probably wasn’t your smartest idea.

“N-no, sorry, I just feel like -“

“Shit? Yeah, I bet.” He chuckles, and your jaw clicks. Maybe if you count to three…

“Just tell me what’s wrong with my car, Steve.” It comes out clipped, but it's an improvement from your fingers twitching to rip that handsome head right off those shoulders that won’t stop trying to distract you.

“How about you tell me the last time you had your oil changed?” He counters, taking a few steps back to sit on the hood of the rusted baby blue Buick behind him.

“Uhh, I- I think,” All the blood rushes to your cheeks, warming your skin as you try to wrack your brain and not focus on the way his legs spread wide to keep his balance. “Maybe, like, six months ago.”

“Six months?!” The number must be worse than whatever Steve was preparing for when a dirty hand runs through his hair, “and then you drove it three states to get here?”

“Yeah, I - I mean, hearing you say it out loud,” you grimace thinking of all the weeks you ignored that flashing orange light on your dashboard.

“So then you shouldn’t be surprised when I tell you that your engine locked up.”

“Is this the bad news?”

“Kind of,”

“What do you mean kind of?”

“Look, the good news is that I can fix it, the bad news is that I have to order a few parts that could take up to three weeks to get here, then the job itself is going to take me probably another week.” He sighs standing up, starting back towards your car with you quick on his heels.

“That’s the whole summer!” You argue like it could possibly make a difference, frustration pricking at the corners of your eyes watching him pop open the hood.

“More like half of it, but hey, you’re lucky I can even get it running again without having to replace the whole thing.” He meets your gaze from under his lashes leaning over the engine, long nimble fingers unscrewing the cap where your oil should go.

“So what am I supposed to do? How am I supposed to get around?” You know that part isn’t his problem, this entire mess is your own doing but it doesn’t stop it coming out in a whine. You blame your hangover.

“You’re gonna be just fine, city girl,” Steve grins up at you before reaching even further under the hood, muscles flexing with him, “besides we both know I can’t say no to Robin.”

He pulls at a small tube that’s purpose is unknown to you but you keep eyes trained on his movements like you have an idea, anything to keep the focus off the gold chain that dangles from his neck.

“Or you.” The last part comes out so quiet, a focused look pinching his brows together as he continues his investigation.

“Me?”

He doesn’t look at you when he shrugs, pulling at something with a little more force that makes you both flinch.

“How much is this going to cost me, Steve?” Your defeat shows in your tone, as the question slips quietly from between your lips that you wish you’d have put gloss on now.

He grunts at the same time something pops against metal under his hands, muttering a string of curse words under his breath before standing back up wiping his palms on the white cotton of his tank top. Charcoal stains fill the small grooves in the fabric with each swipe of his hands, pulling the collar further down every time. It’s a losing battle not to look at his chest when every motion reveals more of the thick curls underneath.

Steve clears his throat, letting you know that you’ve been caught and it’s at this moment you wish you could walk in front of the moving truck that drives loudly past the shop, only exaggerating the silence that follows.

“Don’t stress about that today,” he smiles, letting you off the hook for now, something mischievous dancing in his eyes for another time. “Like Eddie said, we’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t stress about it?! Have you met me?” You huff, the money you’ve saved up for the summer starting to dwindle right before your eyes.

“I have actually,” Steve chuckles, stepping close enough for the tips of your shoes to touch his boots. He feels bold when you don’t make any attempt to move away like at the party or retreat when he closes the gap. A thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “and you’re going to be fine, I promise.”

Your lips part on their own, the full force of his face from this close stealing the breath from your lungs. You can smell the coffee he had this morning and the mint from his toothpaste still lingering on his breath. The stubble that lines his sharp jaw is even more noticeable today, tapering off at the top of his neck making the cluster of moles that live there stand out even more. A pink tongue runs over his full bottom lip and it has your lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks.

“Now go get some food, grumpy,” his voice comes out low, a teasing edge to it that reminds you of what it’s like to have Steve Harrington flirt with you. “I’ll call when I get the parts, okay?”

It’s like detention junior year all over again as you turn into putty in his hand. Still too attractive for his own good, all you can do is nod while all the fight you had left inside you disappears as the pad of his thumb swipes soft against your heated skin just under your pouted lip before letting you go. He turns on his heel after that, walking back to the box of tools he has spread out over his workbench before adding,

“Do me a favor and tell Robin she owes me a new shirt.”

beta’d by @sweetsweetjellybean

🌻 chapter two

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n

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mrsriddlenott · 4 months

Text

Best Friend!Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Angsty but a Happy Ending, kinda college AU but not important, some Fluff, no real warnings besides language.

Kinda trying a newish style so lmk if it’s better or worse or if you don’t mind either way.

Summary: When your best friend Theo sleeps with your childhood bully in a moment of weakness, wanting you.

Theo Nott had never had a shortage of girls at his disposal. He could have fun whenever he wanted. With whoever he wanted. So why wasn’t he having fun without her here. She was mad at him, he knew that, but he never would have thought she’d missed his celebration party. He had basically just won the team their whole match for fucks sake. So where the hell was she?

Okay, maybe he had crossed a line last night but she would have said something if she was mad enough to skip his party….right? It wasn’t like he hadn’t been with girls around her before. He didn’t realize his feet were carrying him to her dorm room until he was already banging on the cracking wood and breathing heavily as he spoke, “Come on y/n/n you gotta come out and celebrate with me.”

The door creaked open only a slit, a smile quickly painting his face as her gorgeous eyes he feared he’d never see again peaked around it, “Hey you,” He said through his smile, “Are you gonna come out to the party?” His face fell as he attempted to enter the room, only for the door to be held firm making him chuckle nervously, eyeing what he could see of her.

“Um I’m actually a bit tired and I think-“ The sound of a distinctly familiar chuckle had his eyebrows shooting up his face, only now was he realizing the scent of overly expensive cologne….and arrogance. Her eyes shut tightly as she huffed out in annoyance, allowing Theo to shove into her dorm room to see Draco Malfoy perched shirtless on her bed as though he was the king of the world. For some reason he couldn’t stomach the sight of it, him, his teammate, his friend, on the bed he spent most of his weekends on, his safe space for him and his favorite girl.

“We were a little busy Theo so if you don’t mind.” Draco propped himself up as he spoke, using her favorite stuffed animal, which he himself had won her a few summers ago and he snapped. “Get the fuck out.” He didn’t understand why he took it so personally, Draco probably didn’t even know the little cat was y/n’s favorite which made it all the more infuriating, “Get your fucking shirt and get out or I will throw you out Malfoy, and we both already know who will win that fight.”

Draco laughed as he yanked his shirt off the floor before shooting a wink in y/n’s direction and slipping out the door still half naked while Theo slammed it behind him. “What the fuck were you thinking, Draco fucking Malfoy, seriously?!” Her face was shocked but angry, so angry his breath picked up and his heart raced as he tried to calm down and speak softly. For a long moment the room was nearly silent, she was waiting for him to speak but he couldn’t.

She scoffed at him before starting up, “Oh so you can get with whoever you want but I can’t, is that how this works now?” Her eyes were watering, he could see them glistening but she didn’t let the tears fall and he couldn’t hold his own back if she hadn’t as well. “It’s Draco y/n. He’s just using you.”

“Okay? And maybe I’m using him too, maybe I just wanted him to fuck my brains out like he promised,” The thought had bile rising up his throat as anger began to overtake him, “Maybe I just wanted to forget the image of you fucking Pansy Parkinson at a party you threw for me!”

She huffed at him as her eyes rolled, he couldn’t form words, he didn’t know what to say, it’s not like the truth would be any good. He had fucked Pansy and of course he knew somewhere deep down she would be mad but he couldn’t admit he was only with Pansy that night because he wanted y/n. It was a pitiful excuse and made no sense even to him, he was looking for her, he wanted her and he was finally going to tell her. But there she was. Dancing and laughing and having fun without him. He needed her, in every meaning of the word, his world would crash and burn without y/n but hers would go on spinning, clearly. It could have been any girl really but Pansy was there and he didn’t think.

The look on y/n’s face when she walked in on them hurt him more than anything he could imagine. She had come looking for him. To spend the rest of the party with him he guessed, and he hated himself for ruining it. “Are you gonna say anything?! You fucked the girl who made my life hell for years at Hogwarts Theo, did you even think about how that would make me feel? How that would make this friendship look?” She hadn’t called him anything but Teddy in years and somehow it was that which broke him. He was crying now, stumbling over failed sentences as he tried to explain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you’re right I didn’t think. I was looking for you and I- I fuck you were right there and I should have come up to you anyway but you were so happy and you didn’t need me.” His words spewed out uncontrollably, he didn’t know he could feel half the things he felt for her and he couldn’t explain most but he would keep going until she kicked him out, “You never needed me, you’re so perfect and independent and I rely on you so much, I can barely get out of bed without you waking me up.” He watched her face as she watched his, she was hurt and confused but listening nonetheless so he continued.

“I don’t know when to stop okay, and that’s not an excuse it’s not I just needed someone….I needed you and I wanted you and I couldn’t have you, and when I went to leave she was there and she wanted me and I’m such an idiot I know that. I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t even think of how she bullied you all those years ago and I’m such a bad friend, you deserve better you really do.” He fell to his knees as her tears dripped down her cheeks to the floor, he couldn’t stop his own sobs as he cradled his face in his hands, “I can’t lose you.” He mumbled through his tears as he heard her feet shuffle around.

He jolted, eyes finding hers much closer than expected as her warm hand cradled his shoulder, “I don’t want to forgive you, but I love you and I need you more than you know, the only reason I’m so calm without you is because I have to balance out your insanity.” You chuckled through tears, “I can’t be mad at you for sleeping with her, you’re both adults and we were all children when we started at Hogwarts and it’s been long enough that we can leave that in it’s corridors. It….it just hurt because….I” She sighed before she continued, “I was jealous, and I didn’t know how to tell you. I wasn’t really mad because you fucked Pansy, I’d be mad if I walked in on you with anyone….because they aren’t me Teddy.”

His heart broke as he heard her, he wanted to be with her since he was a child, he loved her in more ways he thought possible and every time he thought it was done growing he found a way to love her more. And now he knew she felt the same.

~~~~

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cozycottagetarot · 2 months

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Your Future In-Laws First Impression of You

Pile 1 🪸 Pile 2 🛩️ Pile 3 ☔️

Notes:

This reading covers Your future in-laws (married or long-term partner) first impression of you as well as how they receive you. It's purely for entertainment purposes only. Take what only what resonates be it some, all or none.

I've been feeling mildly scatterbrained when it comes to organising my thoughts and I didn't have the mental capacity to design any graphics. Hopefully, this reading is still clear though.

Elle 🍃

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

Photos From Unsplash: Pile 1 image source | Pile 2 image source | Pile 3 image source

PILE 1

What do they think of you?

Cards: Cat’s Claw (Purification), Lion’s Mane (Leadership), Lavender (Weaver), Ace of Swords, King of Cups, Four of Swords

Your in-laws first impression of you is one of being impressed and intrigued. From the cards pulled (including the next section) it feels like your future in-laws will be a very tight-knit family, so your future long-term partner/spouse introducing you is very much a big deal. I feel like it could be at a family gathering or you’re invited to an important event where you meet them there. You could give off the impression of being very regal and revered. I think your future in-laws will be very satisfied with you and see you as exactly what they want for their child/relative. They could also be cautious of you in the sense that you may give off the energy of calm but not to be messed with. They could view you as someone who is very balanced energetically. You could give off an enticing blend of masculine and feminine qualities.

You could also give off the impression of someone whose intelligence comes from observing a situation first. The only card that didn’t quite 'blend' as seamlessly initially for me here is the Four of Swords. You could give off a very unfazed vibe at times… or seem as though you’re uninterested in what’s going on all while simultaneously being on high alert. It could come from past experiences though that leaves you this way and I think your in-laws will be able to pick up on that as well. For others, you could just have this attractive, leadership energy and your in-laws' first impression of you could be “This person is great, but they sound like they need to rest.”

How will they receive you? Cards: Tobacco (Offering) , Arnica (Teacher), Saint John’s Wort (Radiance), Death, Six of Pentacles, The Hermit reversed

Your future in-laws will receive you with open arms. Right off the bat they’re going to take you in and share with you their wisdom and their love. Even if you and your in-laws may have differences, they’ll show you from the start that they are willing to get to know who you are and build a relationship with you. For them, your presence welcomes the start of a new beginning in their family. I feel like your in-laws may be very traditional but also open. They will want to help nurture you. For some of you, they may give a physical gift for you or offer you an opportunity of some kind.

PILE 2

What do they think of you? Cards: Rosemary (ancient memory), Gingko (breakthrough), Psilocybin (commune), Knight of Cups, Two of Swords, The Emperor, Knight of Wands

If you were drawn to pile 1, you could consider checking out that pile as well after.

I don’t know if you’re sleepy or what pile 2, but something to do with sleep is coming through for you. I figured maybe some of you may meet your in-laws at night, for others you may have an intense intellectual energy and it’s like “Wow, does this person ever sleep?” Your in-laws may see you as someone charming, playful or good fun, but overall super focused and fixated on a specific thing. For some of you, you may not have the best social skills? You might say things that catch them off guard, but I don’t think they’ll think less of you for it. Your person could have a big family, so there may be many in-laws you meet. They definitely see you as committed to what you set your mind to and that when you make a decision about something, it’s not one you make lightly. You give your all to projects and people. They may see you as a visionary, someone with lots of wisdom and brilliant ideas. I think that you might even influence them, if not completely change their perspective on a matter. If there are children around you may interact with them well, almost like a mentor and I think your future in-laws will be pleased with that. You may not directly interact with them when they form their first impression of you, they may simply observe you from a distance. For others, it could be that you flit back and forth between intellectual intensity that makes you seem older than you are one minute and embodying a child-like sense of wonder and whimsiness that makes you see younger the next.

How will they receive you? Cards: Rose (love), Cannabis (detachment), Tulsi (wealth), 10 of Cups, Page of Swords, 6 of Wands

*If you’re struggling with anxiety or sleep, there’s a message here to take time and care around cultivating inner calm. Quick fixes might do more harm than good currently.

There’s not one uniform energy here, like I mentioned before, it feels like various people I’m picking up on (so forgive me if this feels slightly scattered). For some, they might seem a little bit detached or unexpressive but they like you. It could be that they quite honestly didn’t want to like you but they do, or the initial getting to know one another might be rocky before you finally get to a point where it's like "yeah, y/n is pretty great.". Regardless, you’ll feel welcomed and you’ll be received with grace. I’m also picking up on some may want to get on your good side because they see you as someone successful or capable of great success so they may try to wow you. They may want to learn from you as well. I definitely pick up on someone seeking you out in hopes that you’ll teach them about something. They may welcome you by striking up a conversation.

PILE 3

What do they think of you? Cards: Palo Santo (Guardian), Jergón Sacha (Transfiguration), Chamomile (Inner Peace) reversed Four of Wands reversed, Ace of Swords, Two of Wands

It's not quite clear who's energy is what but I did my best. I think both you and your future in-laws may kind of flip back and forth feeling the same way about each other because I did pull some cards to represent your impression of your in-laws and was getting the same vibes and their impression of you.

There are multiple scenarios here so I split it up into bullet points.

Your future in-laws might need a minute to process who you are (aesthetic/interest-wise). (I also got they may need a couple years to come to terms with you? 😭 However, editing this it could have been that it took them a while to come to terms with their child/relative's type?)

I think you take everything they expect and flip it on their head, for better or worse.

I don’t sense any malice, but I definitely think that they may feel slightly avoidant of you at first? I don’t know why but I keep envisioning when you watch those movies and there’s someone coming over and the couple is in a panic and trying to act natural… I’m not sure that makes sense, but that’s what I keep getting. It’s not like 'Oh, we don’t like this person’. It’s more of an "X is coming and I didn’t have enough time to mentally prepare’. Some people just have a big personality, and even if you do like them you just kind of need to prepare yourself for them still 😅

For some of you, it could be that they’re worried you’ll lead their child/relative down a path they don’t agree with??? There’s fear here and the words aren’t coming out right because your in-laws like I said may not be able to immediately process you. I just get this weary sense, and that they know well enough there is no need to be weary of you.

Another possibility that comes to me is your person/future spouse may have also been one of those kids that leave their parents stressed 24/7 (like my sister), so your future in-laws try to run every scenario through their head trying to prepare themselves for what their child's partner could be like. They could also be relieved that you’re nothing like what they expected.

It could also be that they could feel like you’re the one who's guarded and has a wall up, or you’re anxious about meeting them and they pick up on that?

How will they receive you? Cards: Ashwagandha (purpose), Ginseng (magician), Sage (blessing), Mandrake (sensuality) The Magician, The Hierophant, Queen of Swords

While I was pulling the cards, “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan suddenly started ‘playing’ in my head. Your future in-laws may kind of see you as their pet project of sorts. Not like you need fixing in any way, you might just seem like a good candidate for something one or both of your in-laws have in mind. Good or bad thing that’s on a case-by-case basis. You’ve got the hierophant and magician and for whatever reason, the imagery especially kind of put that in my head. They may have certain rules or values that they will communicate are important to them. Those two cards, as well as the queen of swords, are all holding an item and I heard a 'talking stick'?? Maybe it means something to someone or maybe I just need to rest lol. I think your in-laws will do their best to form a relationship with you. One thing that definitely feels evident is that they will know you’re their child/relative's person. Their initial feelings from their impression of you may completely switch when it comes to interacting with you. They’ll put a genuine effort into getting to know you, and not just a courtesy get-to-know-you type of interaction. They genuinely want to connect with you and understand you. They’ll try to release any preconceived notions towards you and they may even verbalise this as well.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #tarot reading #pac #future spouse tarot reading #cozycottagetarot

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zaldritzosrose · 2 months

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Lose Control (Aegon x Niece!Reader)

Summary: Aegon knew it would never work. But did he care? Of course not. You were one of few members of his family who didn't look at him like he was a failure. Was it love? He didn't know. But he never felt whole without you.

(Based on Lose Control by Teddy Swims)

TW: She/Her pronouns, canon-typical incest (uncle x niece), afab reader, alcohol consumption, alcoholism, oral (f receiving), fingering, semi-public, innuendo, profanity.

Words: 2,985

kēlītsos = little cat, kitten

I apologise now, but this isn't a 'happy' ending.

Something's got a hold of me lately. No, I don't know myself anymore.

You were off limits, Aegon knew that. The fact had been drilled into him by his mother time after time. His niece, the only one who looked at him with some modicum of love or affection. He didn’t know if you felt the same, but he could pretend every time you would smile at him, or your hands would linger against his just a moment longer than needed.

But how could he not want you? You were beautiful. He didn’t care about the rumours that surrounded your parentage. Those dark curls, eyes so brown they could be mistaken for black. All the things that people used to paint you a bastard, he found to be the most beautiful things in the world.

His thoughts were consumed by you, even when you weren’t around. Everything reminded him of you. The more he thought of you, the more he remembered he couldn’t have you and the further he sank into his cups.

The day you left for Dragonstone with your mother had broken him beyond belief. Wine and whores barely fill the void you left behind.

Feels like the walls are all closin' in. And the devil's knockin' at my door, whoa… Out of my mind, how many times. Did I tell you I'm no good at bein' alone?

Aegon stumbled back into his chambers. The third night this week that he’d spent drowning his sorrows in some dingy tavern. Word had come that your mother was returning to King’s Landing with you and your brothers. The petitions for the seat at Driftmark were to be heard, and your brother Lucerys’ claim was being questioned.

Aegon would see you again, and it terrified him.

He was embarrassed of the kind of man he’d become in your absence. A drunk, chasing whatever skirt he could. Fear set in, knowing you’d see him like this.

The morning of your return had come, but Aegon couldn’t bring himself to leave his bed. He was a mess in so many ways. The scent of wine still lingered on his breath and skin from the night before. Sun streamed in through his window, and he quickly sunk back under his sheets.

But his peace was short lived, the door to his chambers slamming open and the harsh words of his mother filling the room. Aegon groaned, it wouldn’t be the first nor the last time his mother would ever berate him this way. But he was in no mood for it.

The sound of her admonishments faded to muffled noise as Aegon tried to rub the sleep from his features. But his actions seemed to only antagonise her more. Heavy limbs rolled from his bed, gripping the sheet around his body as he stood.

His mother’s tirade stopped at his movement, her words faltering.

“I will not apologise, for it falls on deaf ears. Now if you don’t mind, I fear I require a bath.”

Aegon grumbled, wanting nothing more than to escape Alicent’s harsh words.

He ignored anything else that came from her lips, walking away and towards his thankfully, already filled bath.

I lose control. When you're not next to me (when you're not here with me). I'm fallin' apart right in front of you, can't you see?

You didn’t want to be here. None of your memories of the Red Keep were particularly fond. Well, save for a few. The times spent with your uncle, Aegon, would always bring a smile to your face when you thought of them. When he would sneak to your chambers, cakes in hand, demanding you come to the gardens with him. Why?

Because he missed you.

Back then, you thought little of it, simply thinking your uncle was being kind, as an uncle should be. But when you think of those moments now? Heat filled your belly and a blush bloomed on your cheeks. The evenings spent curled up next to him beneath a tree in the royal gardens, lips sticky from the cakes he always brought, his arms wrapped tight around you and your head on his chest. Those moments had seemed so innocent then.

The reactions of your mother told you now, that they were not. The way your mother had demanded you stop sneaking out in the evenings with him – how spending time alone with any boy in such a way was unbecoming.

But Aegon was the only one who didn’t tease you about your dark hair and eyes – you knew the rumours well enough. Instead, he told you how pretty you were. Comparing your eyes to embers and your hair to the finest chocolate.

Now, you stood at Jace’s side, listening to your mother talk to some lord or another.

“I’m surprised you haven’t tried to sneak off to find Aegon.” Jace whispered, only earning an eye roll from you. Your brother was one of few aware of just how much time you had once spent with Aegon.

Luckily for you, he’d never told your mother. As far as Rhaenyra was concerned, the moment she’d forbade you from spending time with your uncle, you had stopped. Instead, you had simply hidden your meetings better. Swearing your brother to secrecy when he caught you one night.

You ignored Jace’s comment because no answer you gave would keep that smirk off his face. Finally, after what seemed like the longest time, your mother turned and gave you and your brothers permission to spend some time to yourselves before the petitions. You didn’t miss the sideways glance Jace gave you as you hurried away.

I lose control. When you're not next to me, mm-hm. Yeah, you're breakin' my heart, baby. You make a mess of me.

He was washed, dressed, the alcohol feeling like it was seeping out of his skin as he wandered through the corridors. He had no destination in mind, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into his bed. But he also had no desire to listen to another of his mother’s verbal lashings against him . And even more so, he was terrified of seeing you.

Would you hate him as he is now? Would you be embarrassed of him?

Aegon was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps coming towards him, his eyes trained solely on the stone floor before him. So, when he collided with the soft form of another person, he was knocked near off balance. As he scrambled to stay upright, he was greeted with a very familiar head of deep brown waves.

“Uncle?”

Your voice. A voice he had imagined hearing time and time again for the past six years. But when you said his name, he finally met your gaze. The faintest of smiles finding his lips, while his eyes remained just a little glazed from the wine he’d already consumed.

You were here. You were here and you were as beautiful as ever. The deep red of your gown makes those warm curls even deeper in colour. It was only when he felt your hand on his arm that he realised he hadn’t spoken a word.

“Do I render you speechless still?” you smiled; your hand rested on his forearm.

“Always, kēlītsos.” He smiled, watching you blush at the name.

Kitten, so called for the way you always used to curl up next to him, safe under his arm. A sweet name that now had your cheeks hot. It was the way he said it, voice lower than you remembered. But you could smell the faint scent of wine on his breath, and you now realised that the stories of his love of alcohol were true.

Six years had changed you both in more ways than one.

Problematic. Problem is I want your body like a fiend, like a bad habit. Bad habits hard to break when I'm with you.

Aegon hadn’t paid attention to a single word spoken during the petitions. He could care less about who inherited Driftmark. His eyes never left you. He didn’t care who saw him staring. He didn’t care if you saw him staring. Seeing you again had awoken every feeling for you he’d once had. And then some.

He’d ignored his mother when she demanded he leave the wine alone. He couldn’t handle court sober, never mind having to stay away from you. Now, the room swayed just a little, but the fog on his brain was a welcome distraction from you.

The petitions had gone as well as expected – if seeing Lord Vaemond beheaded was expected. The whole family was on edge, but Aegon was comfortably in a wine induced calm.

So, when you walked in, arms linked with Jace, he had little control of the expression on his face. Disgust at the sight of you so close to your brother, a closeness that had once been reserved for only him. He filled his cup again, no amount of wine in the world would likely make him feel better now.

You sat in the only available seat, between Jace and Aegon. You tried to catch your uncle’s gaze, but he seemed to be looking anywhere but at you and it made you feel ever so slightly hurt. Had you done something to upset him?

Problematic. Problem is when I'm with you, I'm an addict.

The supper ended swiftly the moment your brother hit Aemond, provoked of course. The two princes had never been close. You stood with your mother; fists clenched as you watched Aegon pin Luke to the table. There was no love lost between the uncles and nephews, but seeing Aegon treat Luke that way infuriated you.

You stormed from the hall, ignoring the shout of your mother. It was only then that Aegon released Luke, shoving the boy away and drunkenly hurrying after you.

He’d fucked up and he knew it.

He could hear the clack of your boots on the stones, and he knew where you’d be going. The gardens. Your haven, one you once shared with him.

“I don’t appreciate being followed, uncle.” you called out, stopping just short of the entrance to the garden.

Aegon was quick to stop behind you, the wine making him unsteady. But he wasn’t going to miss this chance to have you alone.

“You are drunk, Aegon.”

The accusation, while true, hurt coming from you. Embarrassment flooded him as he tried to find an excuse. But the words went silent on his tongue. He was drunk, yes, but not as drunk as you seemed to think he was.

“It is a common occurrence for you now, I hear. Wine and whores?” Your voice wasn’t as angry as he expected, but having you know such things about him made him sick.

“Nothing more than distractions for a life that is quite tedious.” Aegon replied, doing his best to hold your gaze, blue meeting brown for the first time truly in six years.

“And what makes your life so tedious, I am sure there are many who would revel in the life of a prince.” You answered, turning to continue your walk to the garden, knowing he would follow.

And follow he did, wanting nothing more now than to be in your presence. A presence he’d missed. A presence he’d craved for six years. Even if you seemed frustrated.

“You know exactly what…” he snapped back, the wine loosening his tongue just a little. There was a chance this would be the last time he’d see you, knowing the state of the family, and he wasn’t going to waste a moment.

“Six years without you, kēlītsos, has been a very long time.”

You stiffened at that. Was he blaming his problems on you? You stopped dead, turning on your heel to face him, watching as he stumbled when he stopped short of colliding with you.

“And you think it has been easy on me?” Your words came out quieter than you thought, your anger failing as you saw the sadness in his eyes, eyes that had once seemed so bright now seemed sallow and hollow.

“I did not want to leave. My home is here, with you.”

Aegon froze, chewing on the skin of his lip. Any anger he’d felt slipped away almost instantly. You hadn’t wanted to go. Those words sparked the smallest ember of hope in him. Maybe, just maybe, you felt as he did.

“I have spent every moment of those six years missing you.”

He heard nothing else, the wine in his belly fuelling his emotions beyond his control. His rough hands finding your cheeks, pulling you to him as he kissed you. The kiss was messy but reciprocated. Mere seconds passed before you curled a hand into the fabric of his shirt and pulled him tight against you. A kiss filled with years of love, passion… and lust. Aegon’s hands moved from your cheeks to your waist, pressing his body against yours as he backed you towards a nearby wall. Thankfully the gardens were quiet in the evenings.

You only pulled away to catch your breath, remembering quickly that Aegon had been drinking. As had you, but Aegon had consumed far more than you had.

“You are drunk, Aegon…”

“Not so much that I am unable to think clearly.” He replied, wanting nothing more than to kiss you again.

His hands played with the fabric of your gown, keeping your body pinned between his and the wall. He couldn’t let you go, not now. Not without knowing if you felt as he had all this time.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I will go.” He whispered, his forehead now resting against yours.

You wanted to tell him you didn’t because it would be easier down the line. Easier to lie and break his heart now than be truthful and have to leave him again. But you did. By the gods, you did. While you’d loved him for longer than you could remember, love was not on your mind at this moment.

“I want this…I want you. I always have.” Your breath fanned across his lips as you spoke, body inching closer on instinct.

Aegon closed the distance, his kiss gentle though his hands now gripped your waist hard. The red fabric now fisted tight in his hands as he slipped his thigh between your own. Your body responded naturally, heat flooding you as his lips slid down to your jaw then your neck. He knew he couldn’t go so far as to take your virtue, but he needed something.

And I need some relief, my skin in your teeth. Can't see the forest through the trees. Got me down on my knees, darlin' please, oh…

Your breath hitched as he bunched your gown in his hands, fingers pressed against the fabric of your small clothes. A touch you’d only dreamt about. Wondering what it would feel like to have him touch you so intimately.

The reality had your mouth dry and your flesh searing. Hips canting to meet the deft movements of his fingers. His face buried in your neck as you sighed out in pleasure. You shouldn’t be doing this, and you knew it. All you could focus on was pleasure, not right and wrong. Your own hand soon found the hard length in the front of his breeches, palming him slowly.

Aegon wanted nothing more than to feel you. To commit those soft sounds to memory. To feel your skin on his.

“Aegon…” you breathed, your hands finding the mess of silver waves atop his head.

His name had never sounded so perfect, and he wanted to hear it again. His hands kept a grip on your waist as he dropped to his knees before you, ignoring the confused glance you shot down to him. You soon had your answer when his nose brushed against the fabric of your small clothes, his hand gripping your thigh as he lifted it over his shoulder.

“What are you-“ your words fell silent as he mouthed at you through your undergarments, his name a moan falling from your lips.

Your hand found his hair again, wanting nothing more than for him to keep going. And when his fingers tugged the fabric aside, bearing your flesh to him, all sense was lost.

“So delicious, my sweet girl,” he cooed, licking a hot stripe between your folds.

No man had ever touched you this way, and you wanted no other man but Aegon to touch you this way again. A dream, of course, but one you wanted so desperately. And he lapped at you like a man starved, groaning against your skin at the taste of you, the sound enough to have pleasure shooting up your spine.

And soon the knot in your belly snapped, hands tightening in his hair as you panted his name. Aegon only stopped his ministrations when you pushed him away. With a final kiss to your inner thigh, he stood.

“You are mine, kēlītsos, and you always have been.”

I lose control. When you're not next to me (when you're not here with me). I'm fallin' apart right in front of you, can't you see?

Morning had come. You didn’t remember returning to Aegon’s chambers but that was where you woke. Wrapped in his arms and feeling safer than ever. It would not last. It never did. Shouts from outside the door told you that. And the door crashing open, revealing the furious face of your mother made it crystal clear to Aegon.

You were off limits. He knew that. He’d hoped it would change. But when morning came, the harsh words directed at you by your mother told you it never would. And his dreams become nightmares as you leave him again.

I lose control. When you're not next to me, mm-hm. Yeah, you're breakin' my heart, baby. You make a mess of me.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon the second #aegon targaryen x reader #reader insert #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii fic

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gxthicupid · 5 months

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Hi I have a request! How about a one-shot of Wukong and a female s/o, with Wukong after landing on Sandy’s ship accidentally falls asleep (due to lack of sleep and power drain) while being patched up, latching onto the closest person to him at the moment (s/o) using her as pretty much a teddy bear leaving her stuck with sleepy purrs, coos, and all?

Sorry if it’s a lot😂 😅

୨⎯ 𝑺𝑵𝑼𝑮𝑮𝑳𝑬 𝑴𝑶𝑵𝑲𝑬𝒀 [𝑺𝒖𝒏 𝑾𝒖𝒌𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒙 !𝑭𝑬𝑴! 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓]

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇxᴛ: ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ᴡᴜᴋᴏɴɢ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴᴊᴜʀɪᴇᴅ?

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ! ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ ᴀʟᴏᴛ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜰᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ.

➨ Tonight, a dark blue hue painted over the sky, decorated beautifully with fluffy clouds and shining stars as far as the eye can see. The silhouette of the city’s skyscrapers looked like mountains, a nice touch to the landscape view from Sandy’s cargo ship.

➨ You decided to help Sandy with fixing and organising after he finally set the ship after all the damage it had gotten throughout your adventures with MK and the others. Of course, you let Wukong know about your location since he went out on a solo mission that needed to take care of some unfinished business.

➨ As much as you were worried, you trusted Wukong to return safe and sound. Right now, you and Sandy were taking a break, and he decided to brew some tea to relax and have a conversation amongst each other.

➨ “Sandy, this tea tastes amazing! Is this a new flavour?” You spoke, astonished by the wave of delicious flavour overwhelming on your tastebuds. “Yeah, I thought I'd try out something new. I’m glad you like it.” He responded, flattered by your compliment and smiled.

➨ At the moment, you and Sandy are talking about things aside from your adventures and focusing more on other things, such as your love life with Wukong. “So, how’s things with Monkey King?” Sandy questions you, and you respond with a light blush on your face. “Everything’s great. We have been living together for a few months, and everything seems good. He’s on a solo mission now, but I’m sure he’ll come unharm-”

➨ A flash of lightning came bolting down from the sky in the blink of an eye and then crash-landed on the harbour near Sandy’s ship. All of you got frightened by the abruption towards your peace and quiet.

➨ When you and Sandy carefully investigated what came crashing down, it was Wukong, but to your surprise, he looked severely wounded and didn’t seem to be moving. “Wukong!” You were the first to react, came closer to his body, and checked whether he was okay. Turns out he’s still breathing; he’s only sleeping. The injuries must have weakened him so much to the point of exhaustion.

➨ “Thank goodness.” You muttered to yourself and held onto him tightly. “Sandy! Can you lend me a hand?” He agreed and carried Wukong back to the ship, and you prepared First Aid on the couch.

➨ Even though you know Wukong can’t die, it still bothers you when he does reckless or impulsive things that get him into these messes. Sandy told you to take it easy and help him get patched up while he finishes off the ship.

➨ You took out the bandages and disinfectant from the bag and took off his torn-up shirt. Carefully, you wrapped up all the wounds and soothed the bruises around his body. Once you were finished, you placed his head on your lap and let him rest.

➨ You looked down and noticed how adorable he looked when he was sleeping. You smiled as you started petting his hair and scratching his ears before, all of a sudden, you felt him softly purr. That’s when your heart melts to the point you feel like you just fell in love with him again.

➨ He looked like a cat as he moved around you and stretched his arms and legs. Now, both of your hands are on him, and you take this opportunity to caress his tail and see what happens. He began to coo like his baby monkeys and couldn’t help but quietly squeal at such a precious moment.

➨ Then, he moves around the couch and begins to latch onto your body to cuddle in his sleep. As you tried to struggle free, you failed and now became a teddy bear for him to snuggle and nuzzle his furry face on the crook of your neck and his tail hugging your waist.

➨ And just like a cat, you don’t have the heart to move a muscle from the coach. “C’mon Y/N. Don’t leave me.” You heard him talking in his dream, and you must admit it was nice to know your partner loved you even when unconscious.

➨ “Baby, please. Just five more minutes; breakfast can wait.” Again, he muttered into your ear as he tried to shift your body around for him to rest on your chest. You blushed but shrugged it off as you slowly caressed his hair.

➨ You were so glad that Wukong was okay after the solo mission and began to drift off to sleep before hearing his sleepy voice again. “I love you, Y/N.” And finally, he went back to snoring softly. All you did was giggle softly at his words. “I love you too, Wukong.” You gave him a kiss on the forehead and passed out on the couch.

➨ Meanwhile, Sandy watched adoringly at your romantic moments with your partner and decided to do something special for the both of you to see in the morning.

・❥・

➨ The sun shined, and Megapolis roared with life again. You were the first one to wake up from your slumber. And by recalling your night with Wukong, you saw him next to you and sleeping without a care in the world.

➨ As you pat his head, he begins to wake up. “Mornin’ darling. . .Slept well last night?” You softly spoke to Wukong as he groaned, hissing quietly from the injuries but not as much to alarm you. “Hey, Y/N. How’s my sunshine, huh?” You giggled at Wukong when he gave you a kiss on the nose, and that’s when you heard your phone ring.

➨ Both you and Wukong checked, and there were photos of you and Wukong cuddling on the couch, along with the words of, “Sorry, Y/N. I couldn’t help myself; I thought you'd like to have these for keepsake.” By Sandy.

➨ You blushed and hid your face from Wukong while he enjoyed seeing these pictures, but deep down, he was as flustered as you were. “Aw, that’s really sweet, Y/N. C’mere.” He then proceeds to give you several kisses on the kiss as a thank you.

#lego mokie kid #lmk #lmk sun wukong #sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x y/n #sun wukong #monkey king #lego monkie kid sun wukong x reader #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid swk

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spacequokka · 1 year

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BTS Kinks & Turn Ons

Right, so I lost a bet with @iibonniee and she got to choose the next thing I posted from my project list. It’s also Tipsy Drabble Friday so guess who’s vibing~ This is more drunk headcanon than my other birth chart interpretations so be prepared for some certyfied shitposting.

Seokjin || Venus: Capricorn, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Roleplay

The bedroom is his stage and best believe he’s ready to put on a show. Be willing to follow his head and take direction to have the night of your life. Specifically, says he likes big tits, so there’s that. Can be a nympho at times.

Yoongi || Venus: Aries, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Daddy Dom

Yeah, I said it. Likes being in control, caring for his partner as well as punishing them (sugar and ice). Loves giving gifts he can use or see in use. Honestly a softie under that grumpy cat look. Very good at after care and dealing with subspace without going overboard. 10/10 best daddy. Tends to fall in love, especially with people who consistently hype him up and support his ideas.

Hoseok || Venus: Pisces, Mars: Aquarius || Kink: Phone Sex

Lures you in with sweetness and fluffy playfulness. Sensitive and romantic. Loves to surprise you. But will also call you up and turn you on no matter where you are or what you’re doing. At work? Touch yourself under the desk. At the mall? Find a dressing room and let him see what you have on under that shirt. Needs to hear you get off. Wants to make sure he stays on your mind when he’s not next to you.

Namjoon || Venus: Scorpio, Mars: Cancer || Kink: Orgasm Control

Deeply devoted to pleasing you and is fucking amazing at it. Just imagine that beautiful mind focused on making you cum as many times as you can take it. Of course, this comes at a cost: you cum at his command, over and over, until you use your safeword. Don’t tap out, baby. Will thoroughly fuck your mind before he does your body. Prone to jealousy and will ensure you remember no one else will ever fuck you as well as he can. And I ain’t even mad, tbh.

Jimin || Venus: Scorpio, Mars: Scorpio || Kink: Praise with dom tendencies

Not Serendipity coming on when I get to him. Even if you don’t know shit about astrology, you know looking at double Scorpio, it just makes fucking sense, right? Like, of course, he is. Little menace to my bias list. Alrighty, so another pleasure giving king who loves your attention. (Charlie Puth didn’t lie.) Can’t stand your mind being anywhere but on him when he gets you alone. Will fuck you stupid until you fall apart so he can put you back together to his liking. Save yourself. Lives for training and breaking you in. Sounds possessive but really it’s you possessing him. He’s that devoted to you when you steal his heart. It’s only fair, no? Will gladly let you lead once you’re as drunk on him as he is for you. There’s little he won’t do for you after that.

Taehyung || Venus: Aquarius, Mars: Capricorn || Kink: Brat Taming

Thinking about that time I read @tatertotthethot‘s The Dom Next Door and Tae had a tat on his hand that said YOUR THROAT HERE like yes. He’d thoroughly enjoy the challenge of getting you to submit. He wouldn’t even have to do anything special to punish you. Just ignoring you when you’re acting out is enough because you know the pleasure you’re missing out on. Like why bother? When you get it together, he’ll toy with you until you’re crying and shaking then punish you with dick. We support Big Dick Tae in this house. Lowkey and determined with a slight temper and a need to stay in control.

Jungkook || Venus: Libra, Mars: Scorpio || Kink: Auralism

A gentle lover who wants to make your relationship work. Just wants to be treated fairly and share everything with you. 🥺 What gets him going is your voice, the little moans you make when you taste something delicious or when he hits that spot just right. It seems simple, but does so much for him. Especially when your mouth’s right by his ear. He’ll do everything he can to hear your voice. If you leave him a voicemail, you can bet he’ll save it just to listen to later when he can’t get his hands on you.

#bts headcanons #bts smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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pearl-blue-musings · 2 months

Text

heaven let your light shine down

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!fem!reader

A/N: this was something that manifested from shower thoughts and my current obsession with hazbin hotel. There’s none of this yet but there will be themes of manipulation, heartbreak, heavy emotions, fun times, spoilers, show theories, good times

Word count: ~1.8K

Taking a secret trip to hell from heaven wasn’t as smooth as you thought it would be. Sneakily arriving in the embassy through whatever portal Emily opened for you was less than ideal. You landed on the hard ground of heaven’s embassy with a thud and shook yourself off. When your eyes adjust to the dimness of the new world around you, you’re quick to cover your nose. You didn’t know much about Hell, but you were briefly aware of the smell it emitted.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you take in the sights around you. The embassy was strikingly see through and gave you a clear view of Pentagram City. You never understood why Heaven needed an embassy in Hell but right now you’re happy there is one. The weight on your back feels lighter as you realize your wings retracted. Oh right, you forgot that Emily helped you to retract and hide your wings as to not bring too much attention to yourself. However, being indiscreet was not an option. Above you a bright light where the portal is closing shines, alerting everyone within a 10 mile radius someone has entered the Heaven embassy.

Shit.

The bag you brought with you lays haphazardly on the floor as you try to compose yourself. A growing buzzing sound gets closer and closer to the gates of the embassy. It’s been years since you’ve felt your heart race in a panic over your life, and you’re not sure what to hold onto. Of course they saw you, silly! You can’t just portal into Hell and not expect some kind of audience. Simple, you’ll just go over all the things you practiced and rehearsed saying before you snuck out of Heaven.

The doors bang and clang open, determined and angry faces with mounted weapons pointed at you greet you. You yelp as Charlie, you remember her from the meeting, bundles toward you. Her horns stand bright and red atop her head, eyes ablaze with indignation. Behind her and to the right is Vaggie, her hair blowing almost ethereally as her poke arm is pointed at you. The porn star known as Angel Dust has all of his guns cocked and loaded, ready to take aim at your heart. There’s some kind of cat like demon and someone with a cane with an evil and calculating yet far off look in the back. And reigning above all of that is the king of Hell himself.

Lucifer.

You’ve only heard of him by name, never by face. Always being fed that he’s a deceiver, a true sinner, and disbeliever. He and his wife, ex-wife you correct to yourself, are the reason there are so many sinners in Hell in the first place. You gulp loudly and try to compose yourself. You clear your throat with a cough and start out your practiced speech. “Ah, hello! I’m-“

“What does Heaven want? Are they trying another extermination in a week? Well I’ve got news for you, we’re ready for whatever they’re gonna send us. We killed Adam and a bunch of other angels! We’re not afraid to make an example out of you!” Charlie’s commanding speech leaves your throat dry as you feel yourself shrink under their intense gazes. You see her and Lucifer approach you in a threatening manner. Your hands immediately go up and you fall to your knees.

With a wail, you cry out in pity. “Please don’t hurt me! I-I come in peace!” In the distance you hear a “hah” but keep going. “Heaven, uh heaven doesn’t know I’m here. Except for Emily, she knows I’m here; but that’s it!” Your truth appears to fall on disbelieving ears as they bundle closer to you. The point of Vaggie’s pole arm has gotten dangerously close to your nose and your voice gets stuck in your throat. You try to swallow the lump forming inside as you grab your bag. All eyes shift to your movement and you put up a hand in protest.

“W-wait! Please I’m here with good news! And evidence of said news.” You scramble in your bag for a couple pieces of paper and hand them to Charlie. “Charlie, please look at this with your own eyes. I swear I’m not making this up!” You notice her shoulders gradually lower and the horns retract in her head. The normal color of her eyes return to normal as she reads over the first page. Her eyes visibly soften as tears come to her eyes along with a smile. She blinks a couple times before looking at you. Her voice is soft and untrusting.

“Is this, is this true?” You nod as you pull out the second paper.

“I asked him to write his last memories down on paper. You know,” you begin to ramble, “when you enter Heaven you start to lose your memories of your former life and we’re not sure the stature of this regarding-“

Vaggie shushes you with a prick of her weapon as she slowly approaches Charlie. The Princess of Hell falls to her knees and reaches out a hand to you. With a soft chuckle she mutters, “It worked.”

You nod vigorously while taking her hand to stand up. “That’s why I’m here! I, I wanted to tell you as soon as I saw him.” The paper you handed Charlie gets shown to the rest of the group. They all lower their weapons and their guard as they start to smile. Lucifer slowly descends toward you to get a better view of the official Heavenly document. He walks up to you and eyes you carefully, noticing your halo but lack of wings. His eyes squint as he looks you over. You can sense he doesn’t entirely trust you and that’s understandable.

But does he have to be that close?

You cough and pick up the other paper, trying desperately to ignore the way your stomach feels and the nervousness that’s increasing. “I also asked him to write down his memories and he said “I was protecting the hotel and my dearest Cherri with my egg boys by my side. If you can please let them know I made it to heaven and I miss you all dearly! Okay bye!””

The whole group begins to laugh and cry at the words and news being shared. Hugs are happening all around and small chatter begins within the embassy. A warm smile grows on your face as you see new faith and hope restored in the demons in front of you. It makes you giddy with glee to see them look hopeful for the future, you start to dance a little bit to yourself. Momentarily, you forgot that a certain King of Hell has been watching you the whole time.

Lucifer clears his throat to get your attention. “What, what is this some happy dance? You’re not here to hurt Charlie are you?”

You shake your head, noticing the buzz of conversation happening around you. “Oh no! I want to help her. A-all of you!” You take a deep breath and wave your hands in the air to get everyone’s attention. “I was at the meeting. I saw Angel Dust do all the right things to get into Heaven! And it’s not fair that angels have all this power and don’t know what it means to get into Heaven! I wanted Sera to approve of the hotel because, because I believe in your mission! So please,” you extend a hand toward the crowd, “let me help you.”

With their guidance, the members of the Hazbin Hotel walk with you toward the almost redone building. Straggling behind you is Lucifer, unsure of just what another Angel is doing in his realm. Sure, he had figured out about Vaggie and was fine with that. But that’s different. You as an angel willingly came down to Hell to help, you must have some ulterior motive. However, he can’t help but have your words hit that soft spot inside him; it makes him want to know more about you. How did someone like you get on the counsel, and why would you risk your rank and heavenly status for demons? In his mind it didn’t make any logical sense.

You had heard the hotel was badly damaged in the fight and was surprised to see how much better it looks now. There’s still some renovations to be done inside in which you offered your angelic powers to help build and restore the hotel. Upon entering, you are greeted by someone who wasn’t at the embassy with you, someone you assumed was left to watch over the hotel in their absence. The aura he gives off makes a shiver run down your spine.

Alastor eyes you quickly, understanding immediately that you’re an Angel. His eyes squint and his smile gets more sinister if that’s possible. He trots over to you and sticks out his cane. You yelp in surprise and look up into his crimson gaze. “Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting another Angel so soon! There must be a reason why Charlie hasn’t killed you yet, allow me to do what she can’t.” Menacing antlers start to grow and multiply atop his head as he grows in size, his lifeless eyes never leaving your visage. You stumble backwards onto the floor and backup until you hit a pair of legs.

Lucifer puts a hand on your shoulder as Charlie stands in front of you waving her arms enthusiastically. “Um, Alastor,” she starts, “she’s here to help.” In that instant, the radio demon shrinks back down to normal size and wipes off his vest. He hums, glaring at you and Lucifer, the latter who had lifted you to your feet, before he retreats to his own quarters. You briefly hear him say “apologies dear Angel, you must know we’re still on edge from a few days ago. I shall see you again.” A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you lean back. You quickly scramble away upon realizing you fell back into Lucifer.

“S-sorry!”

“You alright there?”

The two of you spoke at the same time, causing some minor embarrassment. Although he’s shorter than you thought, it’s clear his presence, power, and personality can fill up a room. You feel your cheeks heat up, a sensation you haven’t felt in who knows how long as the two of you strangely keep staring at each other. You take a step back, skipping toward Charlie while asking, “hey can you show me more of the hotel?”

Lucifer watches his daughter walk off with you joyfully to show you more of the rebuilt hotel. He places his left hand over his heart watching the two of you interact. It ignites something in him and he lets himself smile softly, resting his weight on his cane. As he drums his fingers across his chest, he’s starting to feel the weight of the gold band on his finger.

Strange, he’s never felt the weight of it before, just what could possibly be changing that now?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x fem!reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x female reader #my writing #i did the thing

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piratekane · 1 year

Note

7! Ava telling Bea that🫠🫠

seven: look at me. just breathe.

Ava looks small. She always has, despite feeling larger than life. But in a wide hospital bed with wires running from her body to the various beeping machines, she looks smaller than she did before she slipped through the Arc.

Before you sent her through it.

Beatrice stands at the edge of the doorway, wringing her hands as Jillian flutters around Ava with purposeful hands. Ava looks tired, but impossibly cheerful as Jillian puts another electrode pad on her exposed skin. She keeps stealing glances at the doorway, keeps ducking her head to meet Beatrice’s eyes, and always frowning a little when Beatrice gives nothing away.

She’s afraid to step forward, afraid to meet Ava’s eyes. What if this is a dream? What if she’s fallen asleep and woken up in a dream world where everything has magically fallen into place? Ava escaping Reya’s realm the moment Beatrice crosses the threshold of Cat’s Cradle? It’s too… perfect. It slots together too neatly.

She can’t cross the threshold because she might wake up in a hotel room somewhere - Cinque Terre, Faro, Lisbon - and this has all been a trick of the mind, a quiet torturous place her mind has found.

“Beatrice?”

Jillian touches her arm gently, trying not to startle her. Beatrice holds onto herself, a sharp inhale the only thing that gives her surprise away. But either Jillian doesn’t hear or she’s too kind to bring attention to it. She simply gives Beatrice a kind smile and slight tilt of her head. A quiet, she’s asking for you.

Beatrice searches for the part of her that’s always stood tall in the face of adversity. It wasn’t always there, grown out of a necessity, but it activates now as she takes that first step into the room on feet that feel steadier than her heart does. The live wire edge in her chest fizzles a little when she sees the way Ava’s face lights up as she moves closer and her hesitation simply vanishes.

Ava smiles wider. “Hi.”

Hi feels too small. Hey feels too informal. I’ve been thinking of you every minute of every day for the last nine months and you’re a ghost haunting all of my waking moments and sleeping ones too and I think I’ve been waiting for you my whole life feels too big.

She settles for a quiet, “Hello.”

Ava’s nose wrinkles. “Hello,” she echoes, pitching her voice slightly deeper. A clumsy attempt at mimicking her accent. She blinks up at Beatrice expectantly. “Anything else?” she asks after a moment.

“You’re back.” Everything else she wants to say sticks in her throat.

“I am.” Ava tips her head curiously, keen eyes studying her. Beatrice wonders if she sees the new highlights in her hair, the added years Beatrice sees when she looks at herself in the mirror. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting a party, or anything. Maybe a banner or a cupcake. Though, I get that it was kind of an impromptu arrival and there wasn’t a lot of time to plan. I mean, it’s not like you guys have a ‘Welcome Back to Earth’ banner on hand, right?” She pauses again. “I was expecting more than hello, though.”

Restraint, Beatrice, her mother used to tell her. Show some restraint. When she spoke out of turn, became too excited - it was always whip-sharp eyes in her direction, reminding her to practice some self-discipline. Ava, on the other end of the long spectrum between what is expected and what isn’t, is the least restrained person Beatrice has ever met.

Beatrice, months separated from Ava’s influence, struggles to find a middle ground.

“Seriously.” Ava laughs. She sounds nervous. “They didn’t, like, replace you with a pod person or anything, did they?” Her eyes widen. “Is this some kind of alternate reality where people are different? Are you really Beatrice? Or are you her evil twin? Is this world run by toads? I had a dream once where there was a toad king who demanded we all speak in ribbits. Or is it croaks? Hey, can you look up the sound toads make? I think I missed that science lesson.”

“Ava,” Beatrice breathes. Fond exasperation is easy to fall into.

Ava grins rakishly. “Ah, there she is.”

Beatrice opens her mouth to scold her, to tell Ava that she’s not as funny as she thinks she is, but she’s horrified when a single sob loosens from somewhere in the back of her throat and explodes into the space between them.

They both look startled at the sound, but Ava recovers quicker than she does. She curses softly when she tries to move, wires tangling up around her wrists. She starts to try and move them out of her way, her legs swinging over the side of the bed as she starts to inch towards Beatrice. She looks up, forehead pulled together in frustration. “Hold- just hold on.”

Beatrice claps her hand down over her mouth, trying to stop the next horrible sound that comes out of it. She holds out her other hand, trying to tell Ava to stay back. No, no, no. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

Ava curses again, louder and in Portuguese this time, as another wire comes undone and loops its way around her arm instead. “I swear to fucking God and all her shitty decisions that if this thing doesn’t- Ha!” She wiggles out of one wire, then a second. She smiles triumphantly at Beatrice but that wrinkle in her forehead hasn’t faded away.

Something starts beeping as Ava disconnects the next wire. There’s a moment where they both stand, suspended as they wait for Ava to suddenly collapse onto the floor, that one wire the only thing keeping her up. But nothing comes and Ava must decide that it’s the all-clear; she starts pulling at wires until they disconnect, creating a cacophony of noise that feels like a mis-paced symphony.

“Hold on, hold on,” Ava is muttering as she pulls the last wire free. She’s suddenly in front of Beatrice, hands out in front of her carefully. “Hey, Bea.”

Beatrice’s eyes dart around the room. It’s starting to narrow to a pinprick, the lights spinning around. Ava is the only thing staying still, her focal part as the rest of the room rushes in on her. Another sob starts to build in her throat but it gets stuck there, forming into a hard knot that makes it hard to swallow around.

Breathe, she tells herself. Just take a breath.

“Look at me. Just breathe,” Ava says quietly. She takes a hesitant step forward. “I think- Bea, I think you’re having a panic attack.”

Beatrice tries to shake her head. She tries, but she’s not sure that she does. Her body feels far away, like she’s swimming underwater from one end of an endless pool to the other. The beeping of the machines distorts into a heartbeat, but that might just be the blood rushing in her ears. She tries to inhale and chokes on that knot.

“Okay, just follow my voice.” Ava sounds closer, but Beatrice can’t quite say how close she is. The room is starting to stretch out like a funhouse mirror. “Bea, uh, okay. Okay. I’m going to touch you. I know, you might freak out. But I’m going to put my hands on your hands, okay? Just like… just like this.”

She feels something cool and soft land on the wrist of her outstretched arm. It becomes a focal point. She focuses all of her energy there, all of her remaining senses rush to the spot where Ava’s fingertips curl around her pulse point.

Ava makes a noise that sounds like a hum just under the hot whistle of air in Beatrice’s ears. “Good. Now the other hand.”

Another cool hand touches hers, pulling it away from her mouth. She lets her world dial down to just the feather-light touch of Ava’s hand tangling with hers, lets herself focus in on the soft pads of Ava’s fingers running over the silvery scars on her hands. Each brush against her knuckle breaks down the knot in her throat until she can take in a ragged breath, then another, then one more.

The world begins to expand again - light filtering back in, the beeping stretching out into its asynchronous rhythm, the slightly sterile smell of clean cotton on the hospital bed. She focuses all of her attention on Ava, though. On the soft soothing noises Ava is making, the heat coming off her body as she gets closer, the strange patterns Ava is rubbing into her wrist.

“Hey,” Ava says quietly in the spaces between the beeping. “Hey, there you are.”

“I’m sorry,” she croaks, graceless.

Ava’s eyes are wide, but kind as they come into focus. Beatrice could count the inches between them on two hands. “You don’t need to apologize. I don’t think either of us expected this.”

“I should have.” She inhales again, the exhale a little steadier. “I should have been expecting this.”

“Beatrice, I mean this in the nicest way.” Ava ducks her head just a little, meeting her gaze directly. “This is a compliment, okay? You are not perfect. You cannot anticipate everything. And you shouldn’t be expected to do that. So it’s okay, alright? It’s okay that you didn’t anticipate some scientific marvel spitting me back into reality. I think I can forgive you for that, hmm?”

“Okay,” she whispers, not believing it entirely. But Ava looks so convincing, she lets the idea sit and tries to believe it could be true. “I’m-”

“Don’t apologize,” Ava says quickly. “This is a no-sorry party. Apologies department is closed for… the rest of eternity. No need to leave a message.” She strokes her thumb against the back of Beatrice’s hand before her eyes widen in mock-surprise. “Maybe this is an alternate reality where I’m not funny anymore.”

“Your jokes were always mediocre at best,” she manages.

Ava grins. “She speaks. And she lies.” Ava’s expression softens and she pulls until Beatrice can count the inches on one hand now. They’re nearly nose to nose and Beatrice can see the thin skin over Ava’s collarbone, just a little more pronounced this close up. “You’re okay.”

Beatrice takes in a slow, measured breath. “You’re here,” she exhales.

“All 238 bones of me.” Ava’s mouth falls into a serious line. “I’m including teeth, of course.”

She can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from her unexpectedly. Get control of yourself, her mother’s voice hisses. But Ava is looking at her, pleased. It sends her mother to the back of her head, back behind Ava’s smile.

“You had your wisdom teeth removed,” she reminds Ava gently.

Ava’s mouth falls open slightly. “How did you-” Her eyes narrow, but she’s smiling. “No stone unturned for you people, hmm? I bet Sister Frances kept those teeth, too. You know, Diego and I always thought she had some kind of creepy collection of, like, teeth and hair. She seemed the type.” Her fingers start working over Bea’s hands and up towards her elbows as she carefully starts to guide them around her back.

“Ava,” Beatrice tries.

“I don’t know about you,” Ava says quietly. “I don’t know how long it’s been since-”

“Too long,” Beatrice breathes. Eight months, twenty-three days, and somewhere around three hours, she doesn’t say out loud.

“But it’s been even longer for me,” Ava finishes. “And, I’ll be honest, okay? I really missed Mother Superion and Camila and, yeah, okay, parts of Lilith. But you were the only thing that kept me going. So I’m going to hug you and you’re going to hug me and then I’m going to pass out, if that’s okay with you?”

Beatrice startles a little, their forehead nearly knocking as she grabs Ava tightly and holds her against her body. Ava seems to sigh into the hug, her forehead dropping into the curve of Beatrice’s neck, her hands gripping the back of Beatrice’s shirt tight enough to crease the carefully ironed fabric. She grows heavy nearly instantly and Beatrice almost sways under the sudden weight.

“I’m-”

“Shut up,” Ava murmurs. Beatrice feels the words more than she hears them. “Just, be quiet, okay? I’ve been imagining this for years.”

Years, she thinks. But she goes quiet again, pressing her lips to Ava’s hair. She breathes in something bleach-like, like the ozone burning. She carefully inches forward, Ava’s abandoned bed her destination. She can hear her heart beating against her rib cage, but Ava’s own heart seems to be answering in its own language.

She starts to loosen her grip on Ava, intending to convince her that she should lay back down, let Beatrice reattach all of the wires monitoring her vitals, let Beatrice go and find Jillian to make sure they didn’t mess everything up. But when she goes to loosen her grip, Ava hangs on.

“Don’t,” Ava whispers. “Don’t let go yet.”

Beatrice holds on tighter; doesn’t tell Ava she has no intention of ever letting go again.

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #tw: panic attack #this is just an entire fic i am sorry #beatrice needs a break okay?#i might use this again in a larger fic tbh because it immediately gave me a hundred ideas #but hey it's my writing so i can do what i want #*said in my 7-year-old's voice*#anyway writing this was a lot out of me #i hope if you read it you enjoy it

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ladyelissarose · 10 months

Text

Y’all I wrote something…

‘Karma’

Miguel O’Hara x fem-dom Spider-Woman rival

Warnings: it’s NSFW. Smut is implied and done but not as deeply written as other times- but it’s good! Smut/fluff type? Lyrics from Taylor Swift’s ‘Karma’ are in the writing and are not mine of course.

I recommend listening to ‘Karma’ by Taylor Swift while reading this.

You're talking shit for the hell of it

Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant

You're terrified to look down

'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare

Of everyone you burned just to get there

It's coming back around...

In slow, confident steps you roamed around the low lit room, dressed in white, lacy lingerie. Hair bouncy and gleaming off the moonlight that escape the window, skin looking tempting to touch at its glittery appearance, your tits showing off your hard nipples at the sight of a defeated god in front of you. No one would’ve known you were the devil in disguise this whole time.

Words of truth slipped off your tongue like honey and yet they affected like poison. They dripped through the ears of Miguel O’Hara, who laid spread out on your bed, tied up at your mercy. Every inch of his Adonis sculpted body was all yours to touch and see, manipulate and play with until his tears satisfied your yearning desire to see him crumble. He was a mess at this point, hair tousled and covered in sweat, yet it made you jealous on how he looked hotter and still good.

Spider-boy, king of thieves

Weave your little webs of opacity

My pennies made your crown

Trick me once, trick me twice

Don't you know that cash ain't the only price?

It's coming back around

Who would’ve thought that the sternest and most untouchable man who led an elite Task-Force of Spider-Men would be the victim to your dominance? No one could get through his thick skull and skin, and yet.. he melted at the sight of you- you didn’t have to touch him.. only be seen and heard and he was done for.

He had had his chance of playing and toying you too for a long while, leaving you in tears and desperate for more, empty and calling for him, and everytime he promised you could do the same.. unless you caught him. Miguel believed you didn’t have the stealth to catch him, or the right strategy to get him in your hand, without you saying a word.

But it didn’t take long after he left you hanging off the edge of euphoria once again, that you had your webbed trapped weaved out just for him to get tangled in. And you wore a smile in red while it was woven carefully, you knew it was going to work.. it was as if you saw the future in your hands... it was for certain you won.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

And why did you know?

Because karma was your boyfriend... it was your god. But as you got closer and better at it.. You became Karma.. you are now the god. With pride you wore the crown and held the sculpture in your hands, having the power to let him wait or cum at your, all merciful command.

Now you have rested yourself onto his thick thigh, letting the slick that has soaked through your panties at the sound of Miguel’s whimpering, cover it completely well. Dangerously slow you let your hand trail up and down his thick length, thumb teasing his precum around it, while you sped up your movements on riding his thigh, your high-pitched moans were the evidence of how pleasurable it felt.

Eyes dark, full of lust and control rested on his that were tearing up and lit up like a warm nightlight. His once sultry voice called out to you now strained, after spending hours crying and begging for release. You’ve already ridden, stroked, sucked, kissed and deep throated that cock of his, but you haven’t let him come yet. You couldn’t.. not when he hasn’t begged enough for it.

Miguel’s abs were tight and felt like steel under your hand that rested on him to keep you steady. His cock was burning up while it was still painfully hard. In desperation to flip you around and make you pay, he pulled at the restraints, doing his best to break free for revenge.. but his weakness was you, he’ll never break through them unless it was through surrender.

'Cause karma is my boyfriend

Karma is a god

Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend

Karma's a relaxing thought

Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Sweet like honey, karma is a cat

Purring in my lap 'cause it loves me

Flexing like a goddamn acrobat

Me and karma vibe like that

For the fourth time you cry out and gush on his leg, riding out your ride of ecstasy as you feel the tingles of pleasure course through your veins. White caught your vision as your head was tossed back. You could feel your pussy throb at the sensitivity you’re already beginning to feel as your high subsided. The sound of your heart in your ears soon tuned out and Miguel’s pleas to you could be heard.

‘P-Por favor hermosa- me- me rindo!! N-Nunca te dejaré así otra vez.. l-lo entiendo ahora! I’m begging you!’ (please beautiful.. I’ll never leave you like that again.. I get it now)

You took a deep breath and sighed out in relief and satisfaction, first at your release on his damned thighs.. and second at the sound of his voice which has mocked and bossed you before, now whine out in surrender, begging for his release after watching you get yours on HIS body- well.. your body now ;)

Maybe it was because you were thirsty.. hungry, for something different this time, like his thick, white cum dripping from your pussy to your thighs.. or the heavenly burn it’s leaves like tequila as it trickles down your throat.. it’s salty taste resting on your pink tongue... maybe that’s why.. why you had to toss the crown of karma to the ground, and bend your knees at the only satisfaction only Miguel O’Hara could give. So on his length you situated yourself, and with seduction you speak,

‘Then give it to me papi... but swear first you’ll make me scream and come EVERY godamn time after this!-‘

‘I fucking swear!! I’ll ruin you for every man and woman... no one will compare to me, and what I’ll do to you- Ahh mami!! COÑO-‘

‘Come for me Miguel.. please let this pussy drip and cum- oh God!!’

Breathing like you ran a marathon, wasted like if you drank and partied all night.. after Miguel finally tore through your webs and railed into you until he made you see stars 2 times. Leaving you with a sore pussy and trembling legs, cum dripping out of your pussy and the remaining of it smeared on your lips like lipgloss. His sweet, desperate moans were all that replayed in your head, your name slipping out of his lips in cries at his release was your favorite sound now.

Miguel has certainly given you the fuck of the history. His whimpers have turned into deep breaths and almost incoherent words trying to comfort you, he was definitely out of breath too. And so were you at this point, 100%.

He certainly did keep up to his promise, and any doubt of him leaving you alone afterwards.. were all out the window when he cradled you close to his chest after carefully and softly cleaning you up. His voice back to its sultry and deep tone, sounding like a wave of love as he whispered promises against your hair, while he caresses your skin gently yet firmly, leaving his genuine touch of love engraved on you.

Now since then Miguel’s kisses adorn you always and satisfaction on you was written with his cum seeping out of you or its salty taste hanging off your tongue down your chin. What was once left cold and untouched on you is now left burning and marked by him, everything and everyone now knew he was yours alone. You thought you were the only one who knew you.. but that was scratched off once he bought you with his promising pleasure and love.

Oh and on top of that... the crown of Karma sat next to you every time he railed and pounded your pussy, reminding him what you were capable of if he every pulled that stunt again. And thankfully he never did, he’d only fuck you till you passed out or he fell wasted on top of you.. either way, you both never played games again, maybe tease.. but you’d eye the one that dared to test those waters, like a warning.. cause if he went low, you went lower.. or vice versa.

#miguel smut #miguel x you #miguel o’hara angst #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel spiderverse #spider man 2099 smut #spider man 2099

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nerdestiwrites · 2 months

Text

call to the devil and the devil will come

The rest of the hotel had gone to sleep hours prior, the last to return to their rooms having been Charlie and Vaggie, strictly because Vaggie had practically forced the Princess to bed. Charlie had tried to argue, to say that she wasn’t tired, that she could stay up, that if her father was staying up then so could she. Vaggie had none of it, picking up the blonde and carrying her up to the bed as the exhausted princess half struggled against her girlfriend. All the while Lucifer watched from the bar, shouting a goodnight to his little girl and her girlfriend.

The bartender, Rusk, Busk, Nusk, something of that sort, had gone to bed just twenty minutes earlier after the King had assured the demon that his assistance was no longer needed. The cat seemed hesitant about leaving the bar unattended, about leaving his job when clearly Lucifer had no intentions of going to bed, but didn’t argue much past a few grunts and small mutters about how it wasn’t his problem now he was off the clock.

He sat at the bar, two fingers holding onto a thin straw as they stirred around the contents of the nearly empty drink. He hadn’t meant to drink, he was a sloppy drunk and knew that much, but Charlie wanted to celebrate now that the hotel had been rebuilt. She wanted everyone to celebrate, and so he agreed because now that he was back with his daughter, he wouldn’t do anything to disappoint her again. He couldn’t let himself drift back into the haze of never knowing what day it was, letting information just pass by him rather than taking it in and understanding it, of letting himself drift away from her again. He wouldn’t let that happen.

The look on Charlie's face when she realized that Alastor wouldn’t be joining the celebrations, was an excuse, Lucifer knew it was an excuse, about needing to prepare for one of his radio shows, or maybe he had said something about a meeting with someone, or something, it didn’t matter in the end. What had mattered was the disappointment on Charlie's face. Lucifer would absolutely not let that disappointment last on his daughter's face.

So he immediately did what he did best. Distraction. He kicked Husk out from behind the bar, having told him that even the bartender deserved a drink sometimes, and began making everyone a specialized drink. A cotton candy martini for Angel Dust, a muddled blackberry old fashioned for Husk, a cherry flavored Vegas bomb for Cherri, a simple spiked strawberry lemonade for Vaggie, and a rubber duckie-themed drink for Charlie.

A handful of drinks later, and soon Charlie begged for him to drink with them. He tried to argue, even tried to make a mocktail for himself, but that damned cat bartender saw right through it. And so he had a few cocktails as well, and his mixing became less structured, no longer measured, and more of a free pour, which led to way too strong of drinks. The rest was a blurry mess he struggled to keep straight in his head, and now he sat alone, an empty glass with ice melting and a straw stirring it around.

As he stared into the empty glass, the devil let his head rest in his free hand, eyes closing momentarily as he took in a deep breath. Sleep wasn’t something that found him often, and he’d rather do anything besides lay in bed and stare at the wall or ceiling while his mind spun in the fuzzy state it was in currently. That would definitely be a one-way street to spiraling and he had been doing so well at staying focused and keeping his head on straight. If he spiraled now he might leave the hotel, and if he left, he knew he wouldn’t have the energy to return again.

So Lucifer stood, stumbled, grabbed onto the edge of the bar, and groaned for a moment as the room spun around him. Sitting on the floor sounded like a good idea but he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to get up and what a state to find the King of Hell. No, he couldn’t do that either. It would be at least somewhat respectable if he passed out on the couch inside the parlor of the hotel rather than the floor.

He forced himself to stand straight, focused his eyes on the couch in the near distance, and moved his legs. He kicked his apple cane, sending it to the floor and rolling away but he couldn’t have cared less about the item. No, he had a goal in mind. Couch. Make it to the couch. His hand moved, his angelic power working without his mind helping, and a small plain rubber duck appeared clutched in his hand.

He squeaked the duck once, then twice, focus. It helped him focus as much as he hated to admit it, even in the drunken state, and he made it to the couch. Lucifer allowed himself to practically fall face-first into the couch, his entire body fitting along the length of it and he groaned. Perhaps he should’ve eaten before drinking so much, perhaps he should’ve been a bit more firm in his no.

The king really should’ve been better. Better than this, better for his daughter. He shouldn’t have just locked himself away, isolating himself from everyone. That did nothing but hurt Charlie, even if he had thought it was the best thing to do. Now there was a strain between him and her and he wasn’t sure he could ever fix it. He needed to fix it. He needed to. Needed to.

He needed to have something in the background. Music, a show, a podcast, something to keep his mind focused and not spiraling. A squeak of his duck and he sat up on the couch, eyes searching for a remote or a TV or something. Instead, they found an old radio, one of Alastors radios, and a low grumble escaped his lips. Spiraling might be better than using that demon's radio for anything.

A squeak of his duck told him otherwise and he sighed. Damn, his mind. Damnit it.

A wave of his hand and the radio turned on. Static filled the room and Lucifer the empty hand over his face before reaching over to fiddle with the knobs on the damned ancient relic, not like he had a lot of room to actually say those words out loud. He wasn’t one to usually want to watch TV, it scrambled the brain, and he was much older than the old radio was.

Turning the dial a few times to the left, and then to the right, the devil settled on a frequency that had been playing soft jazz. The music filled the air and he allowed his head to fall back against the couch as he listened, focusing on the different instruments that he could pick out and recognize. Perhaps if he could sit here long enough, he could get past the drunkenness and skip right past the hangover. Wishful thinking, drunk wishful thinking, but still. The king might not have many hopes left, let this be one that he knew was silly.

The radio started to glitch, or rather, it sounded like someone had turned the dial, interrupting the jazz and filling the room with static. An annoyed look crossed Lucifer's face and he looked up at the small radio. The dial was still pointed at the direction he had left it, but the static continued to get louder and more intense. He frowned, eyebrows furrowed, and he reached forward, turned the dial, and nothing. It remained the same. He groaned audibly now and sat up once more, the duck dropping from his hand and rolling underneath the couch. The radio suddenly shut off.

“Hahaha! What a sight to see! Truly!” The voice with the radio filter over it filled the silence and Lucifer's head snapped in its direction.

There stood Alastor, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned forward over the couch, staring down at the King. The fallen angel growled and went to grab onto the demon, however in his drunken state he had been too slow, or perhaps he overestimated how far he needed to grab, or maybe it was a mixture of both, and he ended up tumbling over the back of the couch onto the floor. A laugh track filled the air and Lucifer could feel the anger and embarrassment flowing through him more. The alcohol inside his system fueled his emotions.

“You-” The King started as he pulled himself up off the floor, using the couch for support before whipping to face the demon once more. “You are so fucking lucky that Charlie cares for you. I would-would fuck you so hard.” His words slurred and he stumbled to find the words he wanted to say, and even when he wasn’t drunk he had a difficult time saying what he actually meant.

The Radio demon, who now stood a few feet away from the devil, raised an eyebrow, his smile tightening slightly as his head turned to the side slightly, mockingly. He stood there staring at Lucifer with that stupid face, mocking him. Oh, how he would love to wipe that smile off of the other's face.

Alastor stepped to the side as Lucifer rushed at him and watched the smaller man nearly trip and fall once more to the floor. He hummed, and laughed again, loud with the laugh track behind his voice. He was clearly entertained by the devil's inebriated state, which pissed Lucifer off even more. “Do you need help, sire?” He asked.

“Fuck you!” Lucifer snapped as he held his head, feeling a wave of nausea start to wash over him.

“I would rather not.” Alastor mused, a taunt, and he snickered quietly. “Be careful with saying those words too loud, you might wake a certain resident who wouldn’t be so averse to spending a night with royalty.”

That hadn’t been what he meant, the Radio demon knew that, he just wanted to get underneath the fallen angels' skin it seemed, and it was working. Lucifer's jaw clenched and he balled his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands before he took in a deep breath. Then he snapped his fingers, causing Alastors feet to become literally attached to the floor he was standing on.

Lucifer stalked toward him now that the other couldn’t move away and he saw Alastors eyes narrow as his smile tightened, the radio frequencies filling the air erratically. He moved the couch slightly with a wave of his hand so it was right behind the demon and then looked up at his face. The way Alastor stared down at him caused the anger to boil inside his chest more and it gave him the strength he needed.

The apple cane suddenly appeared inside his hand and the king used it to shove Alastor, shoving him hard with the cane right in his torso, causing the other to fall over the side of the couch onto the cushions as the power holding his feet disappeared completely.

Lucifer saw a flash of pain across the demon's face, the smile remaining couldn’t hide the pain inside the others' eyes, and for a moment he felt guilty. Then, as Lucifer stood there, stared at the demon as he laid on the couch, catching his breath, a hand over his torso, he could feel it. The fallen angel could feel the angelic energy radiating off of Alastors chest, he could feel it pulsating with every heartbeat and could feel it seeping further into the demon.

He sighed. A deep and long sigh as he realized what he had to do. The image of the disappointed face of Charlie flashing in his mind turned to one of grief and sadness. No, he wouldn’t let that happen to his little girl, he wouldn’t let that look ever cross her face again if there was anything he could do about it.

And so, even in his drunken state, the anger had completely dissipated and had been replaced. He leaned over the side of the couch, fighting off the next wave of nausea that came rushing forth, and he stared at the demon who glared up at him. Alastor went to get off the couch, wanting to get out from under the King and get away from feeling like he was cornered, however, when he went to move, Lucifer's hand came down and touched his chest.

A sharp radio noise came from Alastor at the touch, and Lucifer grunted. He undid the buttons on the demon's shirt and pulled away the soaked bandages, staring at the wound intently. “That looks like it-it hurts.” He commented offhandedly as he shook his head. Again, the cane was disregarded, no longer needing it and drunkenly not caring where it ended up at the moment. The fallen angel then hovered his hand over the wound, he knew in his current state he wouldn’t be able to heal it completely, he wouldn’t be able to get rid of the angelic radiation inside the wound that would continue to fester, but he could fight it off some and provide some pain relief.

The Radio demon had his concerns, that much was evident as his entire body tensed at the light emanating from the king's hand, and he gripped the edge of the couch as he felt the warmth on his torso, but his body relaxed on its own as the intense pain he had been feeling subsided to almost nothing. Alastor blinked twice as he looked down at the wound, watching bright light, and Lucifer smiled confidently, smugly, as he pulled his hand back. That would be all he could feasibly do for the night unless he wanted to pass out and fall on top of the demon. Which would be worse than the floor.

“I’m going… I’m going to… Fuck.” Lucifer moved away from the demon and shook his head a few times, grunting at his own slurring of his words. He needed to get to bed, even if he wasn’t going to sleep. If he was in his room at least then he wouldn’t embarrass himself so much.

Alastor, always one to keep a smile on his face, to keep the show going, smirked at the perfect opportunity to spin the scenario back around. “You’re not going to do that with me, sire.”

Lucifer growled and glared at Alastor, immediately regretting what he had done for the demon. “That wasn’t what-what I was fucking saying and-nd you know it.” He snapped. “Going to bed.” Short and to the point, no chance of messing it up that time.

Normally he would teleport himself to his room, it was easier and he wouldn’t have to walk as he wasn’t sure he could walk, but the risk of teleporting somewhere besides his room was a big enough fear that he decided he’d risk walking and falling on his face. So Lucifer turned away from the Radio demon and made his way carefully up the steps. He walked down the hallway, using the wall for support, and stopping every few feet to make sure he wasn’t going to be sick. Then he’d continue. And once he made it to his room, he congratulated himself before falling face first on the bed, burying his face into the pillows with a loud groan. He’d be regretting every single one of his life choices tomorrow, he knew that. He could already feel the regret with every passing wave of nausea threatening to win and take over. He’d have to tell Charlie, no more drinking nights for this old man, he couldn’t do it anymore.

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loki-laufeyson223 · 2 months

Text

A New Heir Part 1

Word Count: 552

Warnings: Pregnancy mentions, Loki being an excited soon to be father, like one "cuss word", and leg-kicking fluff

I wake up and turn over slightly and feel rustling behind me in the soft silk sheets and deep green comforter. “Darling? What are you doing? Are you alright?”, my husband, Loki, asks from behind me. “You child is kicking the hell out of my bladder and I have to pee.”, my husband quickly gets out of bed and makes his way to my side to help me up. “Here, let me help you.”, he insists, helping me hobble, still half asleep, to the bathroom.

I heard him go into the kitchen and fill up my army green Stanley he bought for my birthday in March, then we had only just recently learned I was pregnant. Loki sets the cup down on the nightstand on my side of the bed and walks back towards the bathroom when he hears the toilet flush, letting him know that I need help. “Never get too much sleep with a Lokison.”, I remarked on the way back to the bed.

Loki’s eyes went wide with shock, I completely forgot I hadn’t yet revealed the gender of our baby yet. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”, I chuckle. Loki is still staring at me with complete and utter shock, mouth hanging slightly open. “What is it honey? Is there something wrong?” “No, no. Nothing at all whatsoever. It’s just... we're having a boy. Now we absolutely have to come up with a name. Oh gods, I can’t wait darling-”, I cut him off by placing a finger over his mouth and he grabbed my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm and he hummed.

“Loki, yes we are having a son and yes I cannot wait either but, it’s 2:30 in the morning. I would love to celebrate tomorrow but, as of right now I’m beat and like I said there is never much sleep with a Lokison.” Loki rolls his eyes at me but, as I move my hand up to cup his cheek he leans into my touch smiling as he nuzzles his nose into my palm. “Yes of course darling.”, he says, adjusting my pillow so I can lay back down and covering me up with the comforter.

I let out a long breath I didn’t even know I was holding as Loki sinks into bed beside me. “Oh, my dear there is no way possible for you to understand just how excited I am for our child to arrive.”, I beam up at him just at the smile I hear in his voice. As I look at him I see a clear, sleek film covering my husband’s eyes. He wraps me in his strong arms, holding me as close as possible with my 8 month belly, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “Goodnight my dear.”, he says softly.

“What about Narfi?” “What about it?” “For the baby. I like the sound of it. Narfi Lokison, it fits.” “Narfi Lokison…” He slowly repeats, as if testing out the name. “I quite like it dearest.” “Really?” “Of course! I think we should use it. I love it. Now, what were you saying earlier? That you were beat. In that case, should we get to bed?” “Now that sounds good.” “Goodnight my queen.” “Goodnight my king.”

#loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki x reader

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mousy-nona · 3 months

Note

Um hi random question for a possible prompt, are you okay with male pregnancy? Cause the prompt is Lucifer finding out that he on a drunken night had a one night stand with Alastor and that has resulted in a secret child that Lucifer never knew about until one day Alastor brings the young boy to the Hotel rather than leaving him with "Aunt Rosie"

TWO PARTS FOLKS! Skip this part if you don't like PWP

SMUT WARNING. LAST CHANCE TO TURN BACK. Also this may or may not be my experiment into smut – let’s see if it’s any good lol

The night of

Later, Lucifer would blame it all on the drink.

(The devil’s brew, indeed.)

Three mistakes were made that night: the first was letting Husk bring that poison into the hotel in the first place. The second was allowing the grumpy cat and his slutty spider friend to pull him into an innocent drinking game that turned not innocent right quick.

Note to self: never, ever agree to play strip poker with an ex-gambling Overlord. What the Hell was he thinking?

Third mistake: allowing Alastor to exist.

He only had vague flashes of the rest of the night, but for some reason he remembered Alastor as clear as daybreak: Alastor’s sharp claws as he scraped him off the bar, the slight rise and fall of his chest as he carried him up to his room, the soft brush of his hair as he dropped him in his bed.

And he remembered grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t go,” he’d whispered.

And Alastor had stopped, a shadow inside of a shadow in the darkness of his room. “Sleep it off, boozehound.”

Lord in Heaven, his voice. The static electrified his blood, combined with the heat that was always simmering at a low boil whenever Alastor was around.

He’d thought it was hatred. Maybe it was. It didn’t matter – hate and lust felt the same when it was soaked in whiskey and rum.

“Why? Too scared to stay?”

He tried to throw the words out as a taunt. They came out like an invitation.

Alastor stilled. For a moment, Lucifer was convinced he would melt into the shadows, but he whirled around in one smooth pounce, clutching both of his wrists in one large hand. His claws dug into Lucifer’s skin, and the little pinpricks of pain sent shocks of electricity straight to his cock.

“Scared?” Alastor snarled. “If either one of us should be scared…” He took one sharp claw and ripped through the thin t-shirt Husk had let him keep. The cotton fell apart like it was made of paper, revealing the smooth, white skin underneath. Alastor ran his hand down his chest, leaving five thin lines of gold behind. Lucifer sucked in a breath, feeling his dick jump and strain in his pants. Oh, the pain was glorious. “It should be you, your Majesty.”

“We’ll see about that,” Lucifer batted back breathlessly.

Alastor hmmed, his red eyes glowing in the dark. Slowly, so slowly Lucifer felt like an eternity and a second had passed, Alastor loosened his grip on his wrists…and immediately plunged down on his neck.

“Wha–” was all Lucifer could get out before a vise-like grip was throttling him. His brain screamed for air, his adrenaline going haywire, and all his nerves went into overdrive. Oversensitized like this, every one of Alastor’s touches made him twist and moan like an untried virgin. No matter what ungodly sounds squeaked through his tortured throat, Alastor kept going, running his sharp claws against the side of his neck, the lines of his back, the deep Vs of his hips.

When he thought he might explode from the lack of oxygen, Alastor let go – and promptly tore the button off his pants. Lucifer’s mouth went dry as his traitor clothes slipped off, and he was laid bare in front of the wicked devil.

“What do we have here?” His grin would make a lesser man’s skin crawl.

Lucifer was not a lesser man. He was the king of Hell. And was he really just going to lie here and let Alastor strip him bare without even trying to fight back?

Moving quickly, he entwined his legs with Alastor’s and flipped them over so Alastor was lying flat on his back and Lucifer was back on top. Alastor hissed, his eyes narrowing, but Lucifer ignored him. Seeing the normally buttoned up and pristine demon like this, his hair mussed, his coat half-open sent a surge of lust so powerful what little breath he had left whooshed out of his lungs.

More, his fevered, whiskey-washed brain whispered. I want him ruined. I want him ravaged.

As if in a dream, he took hold of Alastor’s collar and ripped. The silk flew obediently off his body, revealing his toned muscles, the mouthwatering scars that dipped in and out of sight, tales of violence written in flesh and blood. Alastor was built lean but powerful, his chest as broad as his waist was narrow. Lucifer drank him in, gently touching each one of those scars with a veneration he hadn’t felt since the Fall.

I wonder if you’ll tell me these stories one day, he thought.

Alastor shivered each time Lucifer’s fingers met his overheated skin. A small sound escaped the back of his throat, half growl, half groan.

“Is that the best you can do?” He panted, his teeth gritted into a grin. A challenge.

It was painful to avoid his own straining cock for so long, but Lucifer couldn’t let Alastor’s jabs pass unnoticed. He surged forward and captured Alastor’s mouth with his – all the better to shut you up with, my dear. Alastor’s tongue was as flexible and tantalizing as his shadow tentacles. They battled for dominance, Lucifer’s hands going straight for Alastor’s pants – and letting out a sigh of relief when he felt the unmistakable stiffness pressed against the fabric. A quick slide of his finger, and he was able to grab Alastor’s cock in one hand, winding his other into the astonishing softness of Alastor’s hair.

Alastor snarled and broke the kiss. Lucifer had one glimpse of his face – eyes wild, his edges glitching, a step away from utterly undone – before Alastor sent him flying.

He landed with an oomph on his stomach, the softness of the blanket beneath bunched under his hips as he felt the ominous aura of Alastor crowd behind him. A hand fisted into his hair and yanked up, so rough he felt his scalp ache. Alastor leaned in, his breath hot and sweet against the crook of his neck. He jumped as an unmistakable pressure near his ass.

“One.”

Alastor pushed. Lucifer let out a long, keening cry as he felt a claw enter him. There was nothing soft or gentle about it, but he found himself pushing back, panting violently as a rush of electric lightning arc up and down his body.

It had never felt like this.

“So hungry for it,” Alastor murmured, his grin sharp against his cheek. Lucifer moaned, his dick so hard it bobbed against his stomach.

“Two.”

Another finger. Another rush of pleasure-pain. Another shock of lightning as sparks flew across his vision.

Alastor hummed, as if considering something. The last sane part of Lucifer’s brain trembled with fear…and anticipation. He spat into his palm, readying himself for something.

“What if I do this?”

Lucifer had been right to be afraid.

Alastor scissored his two fingers while grabbing his leaking cock and pumping hard. His mind went blank. His back arched as his mouth widened with a silent scream, feeling the crash of pleasure so mindnumbing, so overwhelming, that he lost all control. Alastor bit at his collarbone at the same time, and the wires of pleasure and pain and everything in between nearly short-circuited his brain for good.

Lucifer found his voice. He screamed as he felt the most violent orgasm he – or frankly anyone in this world – had ever known rip through his body. When he finally came back down to Earth, he realized he was on his back – and Alastor was between his legs.

“What? Did you think you were the only one who got to have fun, your Highness?”

Alastor pushed in. Lucifer’s ass burned as he struggled to take in his massive length. He closed his eyes, as if in pain, and the most delicious, static-burred groan tore from the back of his throat. It was the sexiest thing Lucifer had ever heard. His limp body, already exhausted from the pleasure Alastor had so savagely pulled from him, started stirring again.

Then Alastor hit that spot inside of him, and Lucifer’s head fell back, a strangled scream forced from the very depths of his soul. Alastor, true to form, was not gentle. He dug his claws into Lucifer’s waist as he snapped his hips, going as deep as he possibly could with every stroke. He growled as he moved, the static moving in and out of focus in time with each of his thrusts.

In the ghostly voices of the static, Lucifer could have sworn he heard his name.

There was a screech, and Alastor shuddered, his muscles rippling as Lucifer felt his cock swell inside of him.

“Let go, Alastor,” he panted. “Let go. It’s just us here.”

With a roar, Alastor did as he asked. A raging heat filled his insides as Alastor collapsed on top of him, his hair damp with sweat and an almost-peace crossing over his face.

Lucifer marvelled at it for a minute – before flipping Alastor back over and straddling his hips so that Alastor had a front-row view of his fully erect cock.

“What?” Lucifer grinned, his eyes glowing gold in the dark of the room. “Did you think you were the only one who got to have fun, Overlord?”

#radioapple #pwp #duckiedeer #PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T LIKE SMUT IM BEGGING YOU #lots of dicks in this one #pwp experiment #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #part 1 #next part will actually be plot i promise #also anon i am so sorry if this isn't what you wanted i was possessed what can i say #may delete later #and do the actual prompt lmao

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thisismeracing · 10 months

Text

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 16

Pairing: mick schumacher x hamilton!reader (she/her)

Warnings: curse words, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of sex (no smut tho), tooth-rotting fluff, angsty, mentions of anxiety and break up, not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI!

word count: 5.2k

part. 15 | series masterlist | part 17 | taglist

Summary: Mick Schumacher rode a lousy wave for quite some time, so when the sky gets cleaner and the sun brighter he just knows something terrible may be in store for him. Whereas y/n was just so magnetic, and the possibilities of life with her seemed better than anything his mind could ever create, that’s why, for the first time in forever, he throws cautious carelessly through the window, hoping to get to the finish line before it catches up on him.

A/n: Finally this chapter is out!! Sorry for taking forever, I wanted to put as much info as possible on this so you guys could understand the bigger picture. Hopefully, you'll like it <3 I'll probably drop some extras during this week! Don't forget to reblog and leave a comment/ask *mwah*

Monday morning rolled around, and though Yn went to sleep alone, she woke up engulfed in Mick’s arms. He flew to Oklahoma right after the Monaco race in order to spend some time with Yn and Gina before his girlfriend had to leave for the UK, which would happen in about two days.

“Morning,” Yn mumbled, eyes still closed, lips stretched in a lazy smile. She felt a giggle erupt when Mick's lips found her shoulders and neck, kissing and biting lightly while whispering his greetings to her.

“I’ve missed you,” the German confessed.

“You saw me on Saturday,” Yn pointed, though she too had missed him.

“Yeah, but it was just that. We just saw each other in front of everyone. We didn’t get to spend much time in private,” which was true. “And now we only have two days together before you fly home,” Mick kissed her neck again, and Yn turned her body to face him. Her eyes scanned his tired appearance and messy hair. She threaded her fingers through his strands, and Mick almost purred like a cat getting the caress he waited for all day long.

“Dad actually asked me to invite you…” she threaded carefully. Though she was friends with Corinna and Gina, and Mick knew Anthony and Lewis, they had never done something so intimate as a gathering of that sort. That was a step Yn wasn’t yet sure if Mick wanted to take.

“He invited me to his birthday?” he questioned, big blue eyes now open and staring right at the Hamilton. She nodded. “Would you like to have me there too?”

Yn pursed her lips, traced Mick’s jaw with the point of her fingers, and then confided, “If it’s not too big of a step for you, I would love to have you there. My dad and my mom like you, and Lew likes you. It would be nice if you could come. It’s a small gathering. We usually just invite some of my parent’s closest friends, which are about ten people or so.”

Mick smiles and dips his head to peck Yn’s lips in a gentle kiss. “It’s just the step I wanted to take, Schatz.”

She smiles and throws herself on top of Mick, hiding her face in the crook of his neck and preventing her lips to confess something her mind had yet to accept, but her heart was as sure as the daylight shining outside the windows.

When they emerged from the room, freshly showered, Gina was in the kitchen starting breakfast. She sent a big grin their way when she noticed the way Mick had his arms around Yn.

“I’m starting on pancakes, and I could use some help,” she throws an apron towards her brother, and Yn chuckles, escaping from his grasp and sitting on the counter, busying herself with chopping fruits for the toppings.

“What do you think of pottery painting, Liebe?” Mick asked. The trio was now sitting at the outside table, breakfast ready in front of them.

Yn finished munching on a particularly sweet strawberry before smiling, “Sounds cool. I’ve never tried it though.”

“But you’re good at painting, right? You design the shoes from your collections,” Gina comments, remembering a conversation they had about work a while back. Yn had mentioned how getting the idea and putting it into paper was fun, even better than getting the shoes on sometimes, she risked.

“Yeah. Though I wouldn’t say I’m good with all kinds of paintings. It’s different to sketch shoes, to draw or paint the sky for example,” she explained cutting into the pile of pancakes Mick served her. “It sounds fun to try, are we doing it?”

“It was Mick’s idea. We have some mugs and pots almost done. We have clay too if you want to learn proper pottering,” Gina suggested, and Yn smiled.

“I’ll stay here for the rest of the month!!” she joked. “It’s been less than four days, and I already learned how to mount a horse, made strawberry jam from scratch, and now pottering?!”

Mick smiles proudly at his sister. Yn had called him to tell him how she learned a bit about horses, and he listened to her gush about how fun it was and how good of a teacher Gina was. He could tell their bond got stronger that weekend, and he was happy to watch it all unfold. His family meant the world to him, and the fact that seemed as enchanted with Yn as he was, just made it harder for him to hold back his tongue.

As it turns out, it wouldn’t take long for Mick to spill what he’s been keeping since Friday. They started on the pottery later that day, just after lunch. Yn was sitting right beside him her curls were clipped behind her head so they wouldn’t fall into the ink. She was wearing a summer dress and the boots Gina got her. She was also wearing the prettiest smile Mick has ever seen and he couldn’t help but steal pecks from her every once in a while though they were with two friends around (all of which had taken a liking to Yn too).

“Can I see the coffee mug you made me now?” Mick asked Yn for the tenth time, and Gina rolled her eyes, chuckling.

“Can I see the one you made me?” she shot back, and his shoulders slumped.

“I told you I will show you later, Schatzi.”

“I told you I will show you later, babe,” Yn repeated, and it was Mick’s turn to playfully roll his eyes. She held him by the jaw and smacked a loud kiss on his cheek, accidentally smudging some painting on his face.

Mick protested and everyone stopped to watch the interaction. Gina had a knowing smile on her face observing as her younger brother gave Yn the softest stare while she tried cleaning the green ink from his skin. He closed his eyes after a second or so when there wasn’t any smudge anymore, but Yn kept her hands on his face in a light caress before quickly pecking his lips and turning to her flower vase again.

“They’re in love,” one of Gina’s friends whispered, and the blonde nodded his head in agreement. Everyone could see it by now, and she suspected the couple could too. They were just afraid to admit it out loud. It was a matter of time, she thought. You can’t run and hide from a love like this.

It was close to dinner time when Mick insisted on seeing his mug, and Yn gave in. In fact, he kept asking for it the whole day, curious and anxious around Yn, who could only roll her eyes playfully and tell him to wait. Hand in hand, they walked to the backyard porch where the mugs and vases were sitting in an attempt to dry a bit. Yn crouches down and grabs a white mug extending it in his direction. Mick gives her a questioning look, and she just smiles, waiting for him to grab the piece, which he does, and when his eyes find the bottom of the mug Yn watches how his semblance changes. His smile changed every muscle on his face, it showed perfectly his dimples and his pearly white teeth. He was so handsome.

At the bottom of the white mug, it was written, “I like you” in black ink. Mick turned the piece, finding yet another small addition right at the corner with light blue ink inside a heart doodle was his nickname “Mouse” in her handwriting.

“I loved it! That’s so cool, Liebe. I- I really like you too,” he grinned, dipping his head to capture her lips in a quick kiss. Yn laced her hands on his shoulders and protested, deepening the caressing of their lips and tongues and only releasing him after the proper kiss.

Mick smiled again, “Now, here’s mine,” he took the mug he perfected earlier and gave it to her.

Yn noticed how he seemed a bit expectant. His hands tapped lightly at his sides while his eyes watched her every move. She gasped seeing the little doodles on the mug. There was a pair of heels, the China circuit - the weekend they kissed and made love for the first time-, there was an attempt at drawing the UK flag and then a small 44 beside a 47.

“Mick, woah-” Yn started still stunned with how much effort he put into it. “This is so cool. I’m gonna keep it forever,” she beamed.

“Look inside too. The bottom,” Mick instructed, and Yn did just what he said.

She stopped for a second, noticing the writing right on the bottom of the mug. However, while the one she made for him read, “I like you” the one Mick made for her read, “Wanna be my girlfriend?” Yn looked from the mug to him at least three times. She was looking for confirmation that it was not a joke, though she knew he would never joke about it.

“I think we silently settled for boyfriend and girlfriend, but I still wanted to make it official and ask you,” Mick explained. “So…will you be my girlfriend?” he asked, a small nervous smile in the corner of his lips.

“I officially accept it,” she giggles before crashing their bodies into a hug. Mick’s arms are quick to lace around her waist, and he kisses her shoulder until they draw apart, and he can finally taste her lips. His free hand finds her jaw angling it towards him, and she smiles between the kiss. It was such a simple gesture, but still, it took time, and Mick put effort into making it for her when they had accepted that they were together. He still choose to show her he wanted all the steps with her, and Yn felt her stomach curl and her heart soften.

Early in the morning of March 31st, Yn and Mick got to her parent's house. Lewis picked them up at the airport before going to the gym, and they took a nap for about two hours before getting up and ready to make breakfast.

“Did you bring me the cookies I saw Gina posting you baked? Lewis inquired when he got to the kitchen. He was freshly showered and crouched down to pet Roscoe who was peacefully snoring by the table.

“Good morning to you too,” Yn teased. “And you don’t even like that much sugar in the morning.”

Lewis shrugs, drops a kiss on her cheeks when he passes her, and sits at the counter, “I wanted to have some today for a change.”

“She’s joking with you. We brought some, it’s in the fridge,” Mick passed the scrambled eggs to a plate before looking at the oldest Hamilton.

“That’s why she’s my favorite sister, man.”

“Isn’t her your only sister?” the German questioned, a confused frown on his features.

The kitchen boomed with the siblings’ laughter, and Mick couldn’t help but follow.

“That’s exactly the answer I give her every time she says I’m her favorite brother.”

Yn rolled her eyes playfully and walked to the OG machine ready to start on the fresh juice, she stopped halfway to leave a peck on Mick’s shoulder, and he turned smiling at her. Mick was now gathering the ingredients which Lewis knew were a vegan pancake mix. Mick wasn’t vegan, but his sister was, and the fact that the German already knew how to make it for her stirred something inside him and made his lips curl with the ghost of a smile.

The oldest Hamilton watched everything attentively. It was still fairly new to have his teammate at his family’s house early in the morning cooking breakfast with his sister, though Lewis wasn’t really opposed to it, it felt different. But different in a good way, it could never feel weird or bad when Yn had the brightest smile on her face around him. It couldn’t feel bad or weird when his dad woke up to laughter, music, and a big breakfast table. Or when his mom seemed to be just as enchanted with Mick as everyone else in the house. It was like the painting had changed and the furniture was rearranged, it did not mean something bad, it just meant maybe you would have to readjust to a thing or two such as sharing your sister’s attention or suppressing the urge to protect her from everything even if this thing is not a bad one.

The rest of the day went smoothly well, they ordered takeout for lunch and ate it outside in the backyard patio. They talked through snacks and started getting the house ready for the birthday dinner in the evening. Dinner, which was always prepared by Lewis and Yn, was a tradition since they were fifteen, and so this time it wouldn’t be any different, the siblings would just have an assistant around. And as it turns out, Mick was a great assistant, he chopped vegetables, and even attempted to season some things. Lewis would watch how the couple interacted around each other, how they shared quick glances, a kiss on the shoulder, arm, and forehead here and there, and how Mick would drop everything he was doing to look at Yn when she talked with him. He couldn’t help but let a small smile slip again, and he didn’t stop to think much about it, not until dinner time when everyone was gathered at the big table outside, talking, and drinking, and Mick was sharing his attention between a rice plate and one of Anthony’s friend. The German was removing all the raisins.

“Don’t you like raisins?” Lewis who was sitting in front of Mick, asked when his dad’s friend turned to talk to someone else.

Mick pointed behind his shoulders where Yn had disappeared just a minute ago to grab a new wine bottle, “Yn uh- Yn doesn’t.”

“And you’re sorting for her?” The answer was obvious, but Lewis couldn’t help but ask. It was so automatic he almost felt disbelief watching the whole scene unfold.

“Yeah, it’s no big deal,” Mick shrugged and gave the oldest Hamilton a small smile.

Whenever they cooked rice Lewis would make sure to save her a portion without raisins, but he was distracted today, and he forgot to do so. He kept staring at his friend separating raisin by raisin from the rice grains, and if he ever doubted Mick’s feelings for his sister, at that moment his reluctance took off. Lewis knew how to spot small actions of love, he knew it because he saw it in his family, and he himself would do little things here and there for his sister, just like she would do for him.

Mick was in love.

And Lewis was pretty sure Yn felt just the same.

“You sorted my rice?!” Yn asked when she finally came back from inside the house and Mick gave her a small smile pushing the plate of plain rice in her direction. She beamed. “Thank you, Mouse,” she mouthed and laced her fingers with his on top of the table.

“I’m glad you found each other,” Lewis confessed out loud to the couple.

“You sound like Dad telling me to keep him,” she joked, mentioning how their dad seemed to take a liking to Mick, and openly told them that he wanted him on his next birthday and that his daughter should keep him, ‘he’s a good guy’ Carmen, their mom, even added, to which Anthony answered ‘the best’.

When Lewis was about to bite back, Anthony called the guests' attention to do one of his memorable discourses before they could finally dig into the food. He thanked his friends for being around for yet another celebration of his life, he thanked his kids, and Mick for the dinner, and he made a point of expressing how much he loved his family. It was a memorable and intimate dinner, and Yn was happy to have someone besides her brother to poke fun with. She never felt as surrounded by love as that night, and she didn’t know it at the time, but life could feel like that night almost every day, she just had to let herself experience it.

And that she did, or she tried to.

Mick stayed at her house for sim work, her apartment was closer, and there was no reason for him to stay at a hotel when he could stay with her without raising attention since it was not race week. They basked each other's presence every possible second. It felt good, so good Mick flew back to the UK after the Spain GP. They decided to try and fly under the radar for a bit. All the speculation was leaving Yn anxious and exposing them both, so while the internet went crazy with Mick and Lewis together at Future’s concert and Yn’s Spotify account leaked, they were at Yn’s condo. Both of their phones were off, and that week they learned how to make pasta from scratch it took them almost the whole day, but it was all worth it when the food was ready, and they ate it together in her living room floor, flour all over their clothes, Mick’s cheeks flushed from laughing, Yn’s belly hurting from making fun of him. That week brought them the closeness needed to identify better when the other was anxious and what worked better to help them navigate it.

Yn almost cried when Mick had to fly to Canada, and she had to stay in London because of work. He left little notes in hidden places that she would keep finding, and whenever she did she would text him. They were usually random questions that would bring a bigger subject to the table others were just Mick saying things he liked about her or little quirks he noticed and cherished.

It was only three days, but three days too long.

And when the Canadian GP came to an end Yn found Mick in Switzerland.

They spent some days with Corinna and then all alone until the Austrian GP. Those two weeks were just what they needed to recharge for a bit. They played games, swam in Mick’s cold backyard pool (Mick even posted what Yn classified as a “thirst trap”), tried making pasta again, learned how to bake Yn’s favorite cake, discovered new songs together, and even started watching a TV show, the latter would always end up with the couple naked and tangled between the bedsheets or, depending on how eager they were, in the living room floor.

When race weekend finally rolled around, Yn started self-doubting about attending it. Angie felt the shift in Yn’s posture. Her anxiety was easily detected while Mick was in the kitchen preparing lunch, so the dog took it as her job to try and calm Yn down. She lay beside Yn in bed and brought her favorite toys to her trying any available distraction. Angie licked Yn’s hands and finally settled for letting the human hold her. Minutes later, when Mick came to check the silent bedroom, he found Yn and Angie cuddled in bed, and he slipped beside them, holding his girlfriend close to his chest. She didn’t talk, and he didn’t ask, respecting her time, but holding her was enough, and she felt so relaxed to the point of falling asleep.

Their lunch plans ended up being dinner in the back area of the house, the sun bidding its goodbye as Mick and Yn quietly talked about life.

Silverstone was only two days away when it all started crumbling down. Nothing seemed different, half of the week the couple spent together in London felt like the previous, just adding a bit more anxiety from Yn, but Mick guessed it was just home race nerves. And she confirmed it.

Yn confirmed it because she needed some time before opening up about the reason why she was a bit more anxious than usual. Home races meant the chances of finding her ex-boyfriend were higher, and she had been doing a good job of running away from him since the breakup. However, as it turned out, the biggest problem wasn’t finding Mason, but it was having her past relationship with him come to light stirring even more the internet.

One time you’re famous but hidden from the Hollywood tabloids and gossip, you have your own private life can go grocery shopping, you can go to the gym, can go for a run, can have dinner in a small restaurant, and can do it all without the fear of having someone with a camera pointed to your face recording a registering your every move, judging, talking, speculating. One time all your hard work and your success is your own merit, but the second there is a new hidden surname everything becomes about it. Suddenly you’re not your own person anymore, but you’re the versions everyone else created, and none of those versions take into consideration how it feels to have so many of your cherished secret things going around. That’s how Yn felt. That’s how she felt when things started getting out of control, that’s how she felt when paparazzi started showing up outside restaurants, and when people started not only speculating but mentioning her in these comments, asking questions, demanding answers. That’s how she felt when a breakup she tried so hard to forget came to life again.

She dated Mason for a little over a year, he was her first real boyfriend, and they met through mutual friends. He was climbing his way up to professional football, and Yn was giving her sweat and blood to make her own name. They clicked. He was cute, and he was fun. They started as friends, but it wasn’t long before she was rushing home with a silly smile on her face, running to call her brother and spill everything to him. What else could that crazy feeling be if not love? Her first love!

How lucky would you have to be to find love at such a young age?

Or rather, how unlucky, some would say. Because love would bring heartbreak along at some point. It was part of the equation, sometimes it would bring small everyday heartbreaks because when you are young everything feels amplified. A hug is not just a simple hug, it’s his hug, just like an unread message is not a simple unread message, because it’s all attached to him.

And Mason wasn’t a bad guy. Just like Yn wasn’t a bad girl.

They were just too young, and too eager to love. Too eager to experience life, and to conquer it all, without the understanding that sometimes you gotta let go of one thing so you can grab the other with your two hands, or else you risk stumbling and dropping both.

Maybe that’s what happened.

Things started getting out of control, and what was supposed to be a young, healthy, and beautiful connection, ended up hurting both. A bunch of missed calls, forgotten dates, screaming matches, slamming doors, silent crying, and then, closing doors.

The last time they saw each other words were thrown recklessly. It felt weird, it took some time to move past it. One day they were together, used to seeing and rooting for the other, the next, they’re not talking anymore, and their friend group is messed up. One day they’re talking about the other at home, their parents asking, sharing, smiling, the next their names are forbidden, his team is hated, his number deleted. And although Lewis advised that it shouldn’t be like this, they needed closure, or else the ghost of the past would always hunt them, Yn could not listen, the noises of her heart shattering on the ground, breaking over and over again, were too loud.

Mason took the same path as Yn. He focused on his career and every time he caught himself thinking how would it have been if she was there cheering for him, if maybe he had been more patient, if they had met later in life if they remained friends instead of getting romantically involved so soon, if, if, if, and if. And as it turns out putting yourself in the world of “what if?” where infinite possibilities are always there, and you can never be sure of an outcome, is cruel. And nobody can be more cruel to you than yourself.

When Mick walked into Yn’s apartment that evening she knew that he knew about Mason. And she knew that she was about to be cruel to herself.

He spent the whole day out training, he would be at the factory for sim work the next day, probably the whole day, even part of the night, but it was impossible not to know. Half of the world probably already did. Just as their eyes found the other Yn felt a new wave of sadness hit her body, she was sitting on the bedroom floor, back propped against the bed, head hanging between her knees.

“Hey,” and his soft tone did nothing but cause another ripple in her chest.

Yn shook her head, lips quivering. This was a different cry, nothing like the tears Mick had experienced with her before. “I just wanted an easy ride into a relationship. Instead, it’s like we crashed against each other, and now we have the whole world’s attention on us,” she sniffled a confession.

“Hey,” he called again. “We did not crash, we’re here, I’m here, Schatzi,” Mick tried but Yn kept her eyes down, lips pulled between her teeth as if to feel something, anything but the pain on her chest. “Look at me, Yn,” the German tried, his tone worried.

“How do you even want me to look at you after I caused all this damage? My life is exposed, your name is exposed, everything is chaotic in a way I’ve never experienced before,” she cried. “Aren’t you angry I’ve never mentioned Mason? Why are you here, Mick? You should hate me… at this point, so many people probably do,” her last sentence was a weak whisper as if her voice was losing force or she was telling herself a truth too hard to swallow, so she need to taste it before trying to shove it down her throat.

Mick’s blue eyes are following her every move, he doesn’t know how to explain the mix of feelings inside him, but he does know it’s not hate, it’s far from it. He’s hurt, yes, but he’s also aware that maybe Yn just needed some time to come around and tell him, and Mason was her past, wasn’t he? He was the one with her now, he was the one watching her crumble and trying to pick the pieces and put them back together.

“Why would I hate you, Liebling?” the pet name seemed to hit her somewhere where it hurt because her tears came down like waterfalls. His soft voice, his persistence, his presence, his existence, she felt undeserving of everything. “You did not tell me your ex-boyfriend happened to be a soccer player, so what? Maybe you needed time, maybe you would come around eventually, maybe it’s not my place to know every little thing so early in our relationship. You deserve your privacy and your own secrets, though I would like to be part of it, to know it. I wish you had told me, I am a bit hurt, I still don’t know, everything just happened, maybe I need time to process it and then decide how exactly I am feeling, but I don’t hate you.” He took a step towards her and Yn flinched, Mick stopped. “I could never hate you,” he whispers, and she gets up. She’s wearing one of his shirts, and Mick tries to tell himself that maybe that’s a sign, a message that without even noticing she’s reaching for him.

“I don’t want to keep you stuck, I don’t want to put you in the spot,” she starts, voice trembling, and Mick suddenly feels the room turn cold, his hands sweating, his heart clenching and fastening. “You gotta focus on getting your seat and I don't wanna come between that. I think I’ve been distracting you. We both need privacy too, we got too exposed,” it’s like these were ruminating thoughts in her head, things that had been hunting her before, and she’s voicing them, giving them enough strength to break her and him in the process.

Mick's eyes widen, and he shakes his head vigorously, “I don’t care! Yn, babe, look at me!” he pleaded, “You’re not exposing me, and if you were, I don’t care about any of this media bullshit as long as I have you,” he confesses, there’s a tone of desperation on his voice. “And you’re not distracting me from my goals, far from it, I’ve never been so satisfied in a team, and with myself. I don’t care-”

“But I care about you, Mick!” She interrupts, her eyes finally finding him again, and Mick can almost hear both of their hearts hitting the floor. He can almost guess what’s coming next because sometimes that’s how it works: you try to protect someone, and you end up hurting them in the process. “That's the reason I’m breaking up with you,” she pushed, and he almost felt the invisible strength hit his body because he took two steps back until finally found his balance back. “because I love you,” and then she delivered the final blow.

He laughed without humor, his own tears finally painting his cheeks, trailing the path to his jawline. Mick shook his head, “You don’t get to say you love me when you’re breaking up with me. That’s just cruel.”

Oh, if only he knew.

“I’m sorry,” Yn wept.

Mick tried walking to her, but Yn extended her hand in front of her body. She was well aware that if he held her, if he kissed her if he even so just brushed his fingers against her tears, he would probably change her mind. He would make her believe it wasn’t her fault, and he would go through hell for her, but she didn’t want him to. Yn did not want to see him face the cruel side of the world just to have love, the love that should be his painless, free, without any difficulties along the way.

“Liebe,” he emphasized, his tears flowing and still doting his pretty face. “We gonna figure it out together, I won't let you go, you can have your time off. I don’t care how long, but I am not giving up.” His tone was set, his stance strong, though he was crying, and she could see part of him crumbling down at her feet.

This time, when Mick walks to her, she can’t do anything but stay, feet planted on the ground, body aching for his touch. He holds her face between his big hands gently tipping it up. His ocean eyes look even more shiny and deep with tears. “We're just giving it time ok?” when her tears start again like an avalanche, Mick kisses each small drop before they fall down. She could almost taste his salty tears too, her lips brushing against his wet face with the proximity.

Mick bumped her nose with his and caressed her cheeks just as he thought the battle was controlled, Yn jumped away from him and rushed outside the room. When the front door slammed shut, Mick could almost feel the whole house coming down on him.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: I know I left you guys hanging again, but I promise to try to be faster this time around! Don't forget to give me the fuel to be able to do it (aka reblogs and comments hehe) *mwah*

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