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sydnikov · 1 day

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Fleeting || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.5k

Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™

A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Andrei doesn’t love you.

It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.

You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.

Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.

He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.

It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.

Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.

He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.

It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.

And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.

Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.

Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.

It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.

You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.

For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.

To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.

It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.

“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.

Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”

Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”

Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.

It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.

“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.

“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.

She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”

Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”

Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.

Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.

The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”

As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.

Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.

You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.

“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.

“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.

She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.

Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.

Damn it, Maria.

“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”

That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.

“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”

You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.

“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.

“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”

She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”

You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.

“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”

Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.

You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.

“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.

Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.

You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.

“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”

Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.

“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.

Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.

She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.

“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”

This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.

These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.

The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.

“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”

“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.

You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.

He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.

“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you away.

Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.

“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”

“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”

He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”

You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.

The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.

“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?”

He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.

“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.”

You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.

Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.

“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”

“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”

“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.

“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.

Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.

Not that he’ll ever admit it.

“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”

“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.

“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.

He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.

You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.

“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.

It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.

You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.

Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.

“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”

You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”

“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”

He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.

“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”

Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.

It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.

“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.

Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.

That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.

Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.

Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.

His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.

Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.

“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.

“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.

They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.

It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.

The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.

The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.

“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.

“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”

“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”

“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”

“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.

After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.

You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.

Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.

You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.

Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.

When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.

“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.

“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”

This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.

“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”

“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.

All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.

Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.

Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.

“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.

He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.

“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.

He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.

“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.

You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.

Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.

So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.

“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.

Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”

The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.

The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.

Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.

You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.

You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.

Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?

How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?

Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.

When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”

His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.

When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.

Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.

By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.

Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.

You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.

You were a fool to believe him.

Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.

Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.

You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?

It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.

He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.

Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.

The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.

Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.

Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.

“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.

And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.

As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.

You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.

“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”

You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.

Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.

“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”

You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.

Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.

“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”

“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.

You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.

“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”

Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”

You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.

You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.

“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.

“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.

As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.

You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.

There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.

Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?

There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.

How could you have ever doubted him?

You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.

Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.

WTF did you and Andrei break up?????

He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!

You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics

Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.

It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.

The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.

You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.

There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing

Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?

It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.

You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…

To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.

You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.

Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.

Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.

Because he certainly isn’t texting you.

Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.

He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.

The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.

You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.

You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?

The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.

Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.

Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.

I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow

Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.

And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.

When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.

Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.

Clearly, not deep enough.

“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”

“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.

You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”

He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.

“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.

God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?

“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”

Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.

“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.

This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.

“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”

Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”

“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”

Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.

“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?

“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.

Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.

“Do you love me?”

He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.

“No. I don’t.”

You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.

Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.

He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.

It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.

You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.

When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.

You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.

Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.

“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”

There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears.

“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”

And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.

Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.

It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.

Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.

As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.

The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.

And suddenly, you find yourself alone.

Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”

“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.

Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”

Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.

You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.

Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.

“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”

“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”

You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.

No man ever could make you feel that good…

“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”

“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”

“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.

She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.

You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.

You’ve done it before, right?

And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.

For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.

You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.

So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.

The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.

You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.

One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.

Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.

It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.

Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.

“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.

“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.

“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”

Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?

It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.

Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.

However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.

“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”

You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”

The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”

“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”

“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”

“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”

“He’s not Andrei, babe.”

You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.

Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.

It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.

You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.

You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.

This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.

It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.

He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.

Never you.

Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.

The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.

He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.

“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”

He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”

“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.

“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”

Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”

“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”

Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.

He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”

Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.

They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.

“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.

“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.

Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.

“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.

“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”

She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”

His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.

“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.

“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”

That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.

How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?

Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.

Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.

You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.

North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.

They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?

This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.

The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.

You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.

You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.

Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”

He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.

You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.

Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.

There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.

Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?

Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.

“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.

“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.

“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.

“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”

“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”

Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”

He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.

“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”

“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”

Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.

“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”

His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.

“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”

You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.

“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”

“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”

“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”

You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.

Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.

You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.

You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”

He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.

Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.

You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.

Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.

“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.

Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.

You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”

He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.

“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.

His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.

“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.

Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”

You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.

When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.

All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.

Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.

“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.

Yes, you do need him.

“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.

His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.

“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.

He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.

You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.

He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.

You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.

“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”

Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.

You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.

As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…

Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.

Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.

“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”

It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.

His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.

Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.

“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.

Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.

You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.

Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.

Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.

He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.

As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.

Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.

“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”

“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.

The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.

“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”

You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.

“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.

He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.

Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.

“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”

You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.

“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.

“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”

You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.

He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”

“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.

“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.

Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.

You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.

Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—

You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.

Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.

It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.

You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.

Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.

Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.

You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.

“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”

Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.

Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.

If only he’d admit it…

He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”

“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.

Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.

As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.

You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.

It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.

“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.

Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”

You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.

“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.

And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.

You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.

“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”

He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.

You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.

Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.

“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.

Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.

You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.

He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.

“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.

“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”

He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...

Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.

A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!

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rileyglas · 2 days

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The List ~Pt. 7.5 - Clarity~

Alastor (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader

Summary: Written from Alastor's POV, this chapter gives insight of what the Radio Demon is up to during Part 7. Feeling like you (Alastor) are going mad, you makes a visit to your dearest friend leading to a shocking confession to Husker.

Themes: The usual angst, mystery, sassiness, cursing, fluff, actual plot, Rosie is the sweetest, slow burn, poor Husker, and of course 18+

A/N: This part isn't necessarily needed to follow the story however it was fun to do something a little different. I tried writing in Alastor's voice and give a (small) glimpse into his side.

3.6k Words

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Seven.A (You're on it!)

**sentences in italics are internal thoughts of the reader/Alastor

This is maddening. You buried yourself in pointless work. Anything to refrain from having to leave your tower and see the others around the hotel, especially her. The foreign ache in your chest only throbbed more at the thought of seeing the hurt in her eyes. Reckless fool! How could I allow her to make me feel such emotions? Almost a hundred years of creating my image and some sinner has the ability to destroy me like this - no - of course not…she was never just some sinner…

Slumping over the scattered paperwork across the desk, you bury your head in your claws. Time was non-existent. Has it been hours? Weeks? Months? No, couldn’t have been that long since you watched her entire being shatter right in front of you. The pain was too much for it to have been that long. This was supposed to just be a partnership, a power grab…How did I end up like this? The radio tower has been your home since she left. You were far too prideful to go back to your room, too afraid of what would happen the moment you caught a whiff of her perfume that surely lingered in every grain of wood and every fiber of your sheets.

A few soft taps at the door pull you from your tormented mind. Quickly standing from the desk, you straighten your shirt and throw on the same suit jacket you’ve worn for who knows how long. I must keep up appearances, no one can suspect anything otherwise.

With a shake of your head, you plaster on the usual smile and open the door to see Charlie and Vaggie. “Hey Al! Just wanted to let you know we are about to head up to Heaven for a few hours. Mind keeping an eye on the hotel while we are gone?” Charlie beamed with an excitement that quite contrasted her partner's uncomfortable scowl.

“Of course my dear! Your hotelier has everything covered.” you chime with a half-hearted bow. Vaggie steps forward, obviously annoyed, “Don’t set anything on fire, don’t destroy any more walls, and please for the hundredth time - keep Nifty out of our room. Last time she tried to throw out all my clothes!” You hum in acknowledgement and follow a concerningly bouncy Charlie down to the lobby where, like clockwork, a portal to Heaven opens. “Common Vaggie! Bye everyone!” Charlie hops through the portal, dragging a less than amused Vaggie behind her.

“Sheesh Smiles, you look like -” Angel starts to say before promptly shutting up and going back to his phone after seeing the glare you shoot towards him. Twirling your cane, you walk over to the bar where Husk tentatively pulls out a glass as if silently asking if you wanted a drink. You wave him off, “No need Husker. I have much to do today and need to be of a clear head.” Yeah right, like I’ve managed a clear head at all lately. “Though I am curious, where is our charming little friend? I heard she had fallen ill.”

Husk shrugs but Angel is quick to chime in, “Oh Charlie sent her to get some things from town and take them to Lucifer. She’ll probably be back soon…as long as Lucifer doesn’t take up too much of her time - if you know what I mean.” Angel mutters the last part seductively with a wink. A fiery rage burns through your veins. How dare he insinuate something so repulsive!? The urge to shred the sinner limb from limb boils over and your eyes flash to him, “It’d be wise to keep such vile comments to yourself spider.” you hiss through gritted teeth. A relaxed smile returns as you regain composure and walk away. Without her around, you figure you’ll have some time to freely move about the hotel, busying yourself with the usual to-dos.

You finish the last of your tasks and begin to head back to the tower when Vaggie and Charlie come flying back through a portal, landing harshly on their backs. Tears flood Charlie’s face. She pulls out her phone to make a call, “Dad, you were right. It was horrible!” she says before hanging up. Within seconds another portal opens within the lobby, this time Lucifer coming through. Of course he has to make a grand appearance.

Your attention snaps back to Charlie in time to see her shove Vaggie away and bolt up the stairs. Now would be a good time to make quite an impression on the girl. You attempt to follow the princess but Lucifer drives his elbow into your side, forcing you into the railing. Every muscle in your face twists in annoyance at the pretentious little “King”. The urge to go after him is quickly snuffed by the feeling of eyes burning into your back.

A glance over your shoulder makes your heart drop into your stomach. There she is, staring into you. Her eyes didn’t have their bright sparkle and she looked utterly exhausted even with all the makeup. Did she always put on so much? No, she hated caking it on. I really did a number on her didn’t I? Her usually bright smile is replaced with a grim look of…Anger? Concern? Pain? You don’t have enough time to read her before Lucifer makes his way back down the stairs.

“She seems to need some time alone.” he announces as he makes his way back over to the shell of a woman standing before you. You watch as he pulls her flush with his body, greedy hands snaking up her sides. He mumbles something before placing his foul lips against her skin and disappearing into red ribbons.

Her face mirrors your feelings of disgust at his touch. Did he force himself on her? I swear if he hurt - You catch yourself stepping towards her. Every ounce of your being longed to wrap her into your arms. Your heart begged to pour yourself into her, to remove every trace of Lucifer from her body. Her gaze meets yours again. You freeze. The pain behind the eyes that stared back at you made your knees nearly buckle. What is wrong with me… With a nod you slink into your shadow. I believe it’s time to visit someone who can help.

It was always a pleasure to be in Rosie’s presence. You can’t quite remember how you met but you knew she was easily your oldest, truest friend here in Hell. Usually you didn’t dally much about romance, her self-proclaimed specialty, but right now you could use any insight she could give.

“Alastor! How I’ve missed seeing that dazzling smile of yours!” Rosie pulls you into her ever smothering hug, “Come along, I was just getting some tea. Tell me, what do I owe the pleasure of such company?”

You remain quiet as you sit at the table to pour two cups of tea, smile faltering just enough to tell her something was very wrong. “Oh darlin’, what’s going on? I can’t recall a time you’ve looked so distressed.” It was strange hearing yourself try to explain these last few months. You’ve always made it a point to be very well spoken, years of broadcasting have ingrained it into your mind. But today you fumbled your words telling Rosie how you wound up in this position - with these…feelings.

“Oh my stars. I never thought this day would come.” She sits back in her chair in astonishment. Your ears perk up at her short response, “What do you mean dear?” Rosie leans back towards you, gently placing a hand atop yours, “Alastor darling, you’re in love!”

An uneasy feeling washes over you. Your hand quickly retracts at the mention of that word. Love? What a ridiculous notion. It’s fruitless…unnecessary…weak…

Her face softens at your doubtful silence, “All of those moments, the desires, even the pain…it’s obvious you’ve fallen head over heels for that gal. She must be quite a charmer to get you this worked up!” she laughs giddily but you’re far from amused at this assumption.

“Rosie dear, I’m not some hopeless romantic. I don't have the time nor the need for such frivolous things.” She frowns at your bitter denial. You can see she’s reeling, trying to find her next words. She stands up and begins pacing the room, still unable to conjure the right response. Your frustration grows as you try to reason with her, “Look, I just need to figure out how to be rid of this. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can barely think without her somehow worming her way into my mind.”

Her dark eyes snap to you, “You admit you want more than just a mutual partnership?”

“Well yes -”

She steps closer to you, “And you crave her presence, her touch, her voice?”

“Always but - “

“Do you desire a future with her and only her?”

Irritated, you try to answer once again, “At one point yes howev-”

“Alastor, do not deny yourself love just because you don’t fully understand it! It is not a weakness - no sir - it’s quite the contrary.”

“Enough!” The table jolts beneath your now balled up fists, “What does it matter!? She loathes me! I set fire to her and burned any trust or feelings she could possibly have for me! I ran her off - straight into that imbecile's arms!” you snarl with a heavy static filling the air.

A gentle hand rests on your shoulder. You look up at Rosie like a remorseful child, “She’d never believe me even if I told her…” you say softly. She squeezes your shoulder before returning to her chair and taking a sip from her cup. “Words are cheap, but actions, they speak for the truth. Don’t allow your pride to get in the way of what you could have.” Her tone turns sharp and concise, “Now, I know you and I know you’re not one to hold onto what ‘could have been’ or fret over past mistakes. But I’m telling you from experience, if you don’t at least try with this girl, you will regret it.” The words drive into you like a hot knife.

A heavy silence falls between you two while a battle rages in your mind. She’s never steered me wrong before, but how can she be so sure? She hasn’t even met this girl and she can already make these incredibly bold assumptions. You finish your tea and stand from the table. Walking over to Rosie’s chair, you bend down to peck her cheek with a quiet, “Thank you.” before stepping into your shadow to return to the hotel.

In the past you’d have a drink or two to celebrate a victory or to get Mimzy off your case about ‘the good old days’, but tonight you wanted to be numb. “Another.” you demand, slamming the glass against the hotel bar.

Husk cautiously pours more into your cup, “Uh boss, you doin’ alright?” Before he can finish his question your glass is empty and pounds the bar again, “Another!” you repeat. Husk couldn’t figure out if he should be amused or scared about your sudden change in demeanor. He pours you more, not daring to say no to the demon who owned his soul so tightly.

You weren’t keeping count of how many drinks you managed to take into your body. Truthfully you didn’t care. The liquor was supposed to make the thoughts stop and numb everything but you found it only amplified with each glass. “Husker…Did - did you see him?” your speech might have been perfect but your mind was definitely beginning to blur.

“See who?” Husk asked nervously looking around, wondering what strange delusions you might be seeing.

You hiccup and laugh at his oblivious reaction, “That King…putting his hands all over her. He’s trying to take what is rightfully mine. He has no business touching her in such ways!” you growl as another hiccup leaves your chest.

“Oh - uh yeah I saw that. She didn’t seem too happy about it either -”

“You’re damn right she wasn’t!” you shout louder than intended.

“Right…” Husk trails off, unsure of how to handle you in this new state of drunken anger, “Look, you don’t have to tell me but you’re definitely drinkin’ to forget something.” he says, trying to tread lightly.

You signal for another drink while shaking your head in response to his question, “My dear Husker I - I think I’ve developed…feelings - “ The sudden sound of a bottle shattering makes you jump out of your chair. Looking over the bar you see Husker frantically cleaning up the bottle he dropped out of pure shock.

He looks up at you, eyes wide with bewilderment, “Fuck sorry, I just thought I heard - feelings? What kind of feelings are we talkin?”

You slam another drink back, “Seeing him with her did something to me. It…hurt…It felt like a knife plunged into my chest.” If you were paying closer attention, you’d hear his snarky retort, “If only it was a real knife….” but you’re too preoccupied inside your own mind. Husk finishes cleaning the floor and leans against the bar, grabbing a new bottle and pouring you another without asking.

Why am I even talking with him? I didn’t think liquor could affect me so much down here. Ignoring instinct, you happily down another without wasting any time. The burn washes over your body and a peculiar sense of clarity suddenly hits, “I love that girl.” you say plainly, without a shimmer of doubt.

Another bottle shatters against the floor along with the glasses Husk was starting to carry to the sink. “Fucking get it together Husker! Do you need gloves or something?! You’re wasting perfectly good rye!!! They would have had your head back in my day for such careless actions!” you shout at the now completely stunned bartender. He stares at you, eyes wider than saucers. Annoyed with the sudden lack of conversation from the demon - It is quite rude of him to just keep staring, I mean really - you slink away into your tower to be left with your thoughts. While you climb the stairs, you don’t bother looking back to see Husk’s mortified face as he mumbles frantically to himself, “What…in the actual fuck…just happened…I need a drink, wait no, I need ten drinks...and where the hell is Angel when you need him!?”

Your buzz begins to fade as you pace your tower, somehow causing everything to hit you tenfold. Rosie was right, I can’t deny this any longer. What am I going to do…hell what can I do? Why is this so hard to -

Three loud knocks reverberate through the tower. You still, not daring to give the person on the other side any clues as to if you were there or not. Please just go away, I don’t have the patience or clear mind for anyone right now. Your shadow tugs violently at your pant leg, signally the urgency of answering the door. You warily turn the knob and focus your eyes on the dimly lit woman in front of you. All the air leaves your lungs.

F-fuck…

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blackhairedjjun · 3 days

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staying afloat - k.th

pairing: kang taehyun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst, argument -> makeup, implied friends to lovers, office worker!taehyun, the subtlest of love confessions | word count: 899 | warnings: burnout and exhaustion from overwork

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - HEAT: while engaged in a passionate argument with one another, sender, in the heat of the moment, blurts out “i love you!” to the receiver. think of like, that glorious trope where people have a huge argument and then suddenly sb drops the mic with “because i’m in love with you!” and silences the other person. u know the trope! (requested by anon)

author's notes: HI ANON im sorry this took sooooo long. as i said, this was hard for me to write bc i already did the heat prompt twice before and i didn't want to be too repetitive with the arguments... the argument here is a bit calmer and more one-sided on yn's part but i hope it still works!

“you are running yourself into the ground, taehyun!” you grab his shoulders and give him a little shake. taehyun watches you closely, and you can see the darkening circles under his eyes.

he’s still standing before the threshold of your home, right in front of the door. with just one step he could walk in if you weren’t blocking his way. outside, the night air is so cold that you shivered instantly upon opening the door for him. the sky is dark, with neither moon nor stars, and the only light comes from the fluorescent bulb at the doorway.

“y/n, you’re up working too,” he says. his voice is steady but firm. “you can’t tell me what not to do when you’re also working like this.”

“i’m doing overtime for just one night, for god’s sake. but you 一 you’ve been so busy and tired for what, two weeks? you forget to answer my texts. forget!” you throw your hands up. “and you’ve never forgotten before, not in all the years that i’ve known you.”

taehyun stuffs his hands into his pockets and his gaze flickers away from yours for a second before it returns. though he tries to stand his ground, you notice the soft look in his eyes, laying bare the tiredness and worries weighing down on him.

“well, i’m here now. why won’t you let me make it up to you?”

“because it’s one in the morning and you’ve been staying up late for overtime and extra projects for what, two weeks now? you go home late and you wake up early, your boss dumps all this work on you, and you barely get any time off!” you take a step closer, now fully exiting the warmth of your home, to stand so close to him. “please, taehyun. it’s not that i don’t want to see you, but you’re so, so tired. i can see it in your face.”

you reach out to touch his face, but his expression goes taut and your hand hovers just inches away. he turns away from you before you can scan his eyes for the tired look you saw; a cold breeze blows by, causing both of you to shiver and pushing the bangs away from taehyun’s forehead.

he looks... sadder than what you remember. you remember how easily his face would light up before he took on his new position at his job; he would smile at the smallest of your remarks, his big eyes sparkling like jewels. you thought of the steady stream of texts from him day after day, reminding you to eat or commenting on a silly photo you took, and how that stream soon turned into a trickle. the memories make your body feel heavy.

taehyun says nothing for a few moments and just lets out a sigh. when he looks back at you there’s a pained look that wasn’t there before, and you feel an ache in your chest at the sight.

“y/n, i... i don’t want you to worry about me like this. i can’t... i can take care of myself. please, please just trust me. i hate watching you worry like this.”

“oh, you hate watching me worry?” your tone rises before you even realize it. “and i hate watching you turn into this! you’re exhausted, taehyun. you’re not yourself anymore. i can’t even remember the last time i saw you smile! do you know how much it hurts to see the person you love lose himself like this?”

you tremble in your spot and your words start to trip over themselves. your emotions pile onto each other, keeping you from speaking straight: some anger, yes, but mostly disappointment, worry, loneliness, fear. “i ha一 i hate seeing you like this, taehyunie. i can’t一 i can’t watch一 i love you too much to see this一”

taehyun cuts you off to pull you into a hug. he holds onto you so tightly, as if trying to wrestle you away from the emotions gripping you. one of his hands makes his way through your hair. angry tears prick at your eyes but you relax in his hold, finally letting out a sob.

“i’m sorry,” he says, his hand combing through your hair then rubbing your back. “i know you’re just looking out for me... and you’re right. i am exhausted...”

something shifts and now you feel his full weight on you. now you’re the one holding him, his head moving to rest in the crook of your neck, his shoulders fully slumped. the weeks of exhaustion have finally caught up to him, and you wrap your arms around his waist to prop him up.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he repeats. “for not... listening to you... for forgetting...”

your hold on him tightens and tears stream down your face, but you manage to speak. “i just don’t want you to hurt yourself...”

neither of you say anything more. taehyun doesn’t let go of you and sinks fully into your touch; despite the chill night air, he’s still warm in your arms. you let your tears fall freely as you keep a firm hold on the friend you love, as if letting go of him means he will sink and drown.

the night is so quiet that the murmur he lets out against your neck still comes out loud and clear.

“i love you too.”

#txt x reader #taehyun x reader #txt x you #taehyun x you #kang taehyun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #taehyun imagines #txt angst #taehyun angst #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #bhj originals #bhj's 300 follower event 🖤

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stevie-petey · 3 hours

Text

episode two: the mall rats

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.” “Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be. It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Summary: dreams you weird, billy is a hitchhiker, and hopper flirts with joyce in front of you (youre not sure which is scarier), somehow robin knows russian and has genius ears, you get caught in an awkward breakup showdown, and you shamefully are shocked when you discover that hawkins is anything but normal. you would think youd be a pro at this already, but at least steve is hot and really good at sneaking through windows.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, allusions to violence, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 13.2k

Before you swing in: hello !!! new chapter, i am so sorry for the wait :/ the end of the semester has been killer and ive been super busy with my lab job (i present at a conference friday ... pray for me). heres chapter 2, she somehow ended up being 13k words but lets ignore that for my own sanity !

There are dandelions all around you.

Their puffs of white surround you as the seeds dance in the air and settle atop of your head and tickle your cheek. They’re soft, reminiscent of the snow that encases you every winter in Hawkins and the days you used to chase Jonathan around in his backyard.

You’re barefoot in a field that you can’t quite place. The grass below you skims against your ankles as the dandelion seeds float towards the tops of the green. It’s a familiar landscape, something tells you that you’ve been here before, and the thought is almost reassuring to you.

The sun is warm against you and there’s someone in the distance. You open your mouth to call out to them, they feel as familiar as the landscape before you does, but when you try to speak, the dandelion seeds begin to swarm into your mouth. The puffs of white seem to turn into daggers in your throat as they cut your tongue and slice inside you as you struggle to breathe.

You try to scream, but nothing comes out. The dandelions now draw blood as they continue their malicious attack on you. You claw at your mouth and cower in the field, trying to flee from what’s attacking you, but the dandelions only follow as you try to call after the figure you saw in the distance.

Stumbling blindly through the grass, panic stricken and longing for the person who had once been at the top of the hill, your foot catches on a root and suddenly you’re falling. This time, you do scream, and the dandelion seeds spill from your mouth as you fall into an endless abyss.

“Y/N!” Your eyes fly open and your body shoots from your bed; you almost head butt Dustin in the process. He flinches back, startled by your violent reaction, and he puts his hands up in surrender and backs away. “Geesh, I was just trying to wake you up.”

It takes you a few moments to process that you are, in fact, awake. Your heartbeat is still pounding rapidly in your throat. You can still feel the dandelion seeds on your tongue and the millions of little cuts they left behind.

Dustin stares at you with slight concern in his eyes and you clear your throat, trying to rid the memory of your dream. That’s all it was. A dream.

Clearing your throat again, you try to calm yourself down. “Why are you in my room?”

“Like I said, I was trying to wake you up.” Your brother says as if you’re an idiot.

“But why?”

“Did you bang your head or something last night?” He gives you an odd look and you glare at him. “Cerebro caught a Russian code, remember? You promised we’d see Steve today to talk about it!”

You rub your eyes, exhausted. It’s taking longer than usual for your mind to wake up and process everything. “I know, I know… What time is it?”

“Eight, now get up and go get pretty for Steve so we can discuss how to become American heroes.” Dustin crosses his arms, silently daring you to argue.

“There was so much wrong with that sentence,” you groan, but reluctantly throw your blankets off of you and start pulling out random shorts and a t-shirt to wear. “You’re lucky it’s the weekend and I don’t work today.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Dustin mocks you, tossing you a white t-shirt and removing the red one from your hands. “Steve likes you in white, now hurry up.”

Your mouth drops in shock, but your brother simply rolls his eyes at you and leaves your room so that you can get dressed.

“How does he even know that?” You whisper to yourself, now alone in your room.

–

Dustin bikes ahead of you as you make your way to Joyce’s store in Downtown Hawkins. He had complained when you told him that you needed to make a pitstop there before going to the mall.

“I haven’t seen Steve in a month!”

“And Mrs. Byers is close to losing her job at Melvald’s, so you can wait the extra five minute detour it takes to deliver her muffins to cheer her up.”

Your brother had tried to argue some more, but you simply shoved a fresh baked muffin in his mouth and began to bike away.

Now, as the two of you head towards Downtown, the early morning air fills your lungs and slowly wakes you up. It’s quiet, Hawkins isn’t quite awake yet in the early hour. Only the bees buzzing past your ear seem to be lively.

You watch Dustin up ahead and briefly marvel at how much bigger he seems to have gotten in the month he was away at camp. He looks older, more mature, no longer the baby brother your mom brought home fourteen years ago.

As you’re lost in your reminiscence, you almost miss the figure that stumbles along the side of the road.

“Dustin!” You yell at the boy, weary of whoever is up ahead. “Stop!”

He hears the fear in your voice and screeches his bike to a halt. Turning around, he checks to make sure you’re okay. “Did something happen?”

You stop next to him and discreetly point at the figure a few yards away. It seems to be a boy, maybe a teen your age, but he’s walking as if he’s in immense pain. “You see that?”

“Yeah,” Dustin squints and also seems unnerved by the person’s appearance. “Think it’s anything dangerous?”

“I don’t know…” Something feels familiar about the person. Their hair, the way it’s styled, reminds you of someone. You squint as well, your eyes catch on the person’s leather jacket and the expensive brand, there’s a faint outline of cigarettes in the pocket, and the sight fills your nose with the smoke that once choked you last winter. “I think it’s Billy.”

“Why is he walking on the side of the road?” Dustin makes a face. “I know he has a car, the bastard almost ran me and the party over on Halloween.”

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and try to understand why you feel this tug within you to get closer to the teen. Billy is cruel, he is horrible, and the bruises he left on your neck took weeks to fully fade away. Yet there’s a concern within you as you watch him stumble, as if in some daze, and it's this worry that solidifies your decision. “Stay here.”

“What–” Dustin turns and sees that you’ve gotten back on your bike and are now pedaling towards Billy. “Y/N! Are you insane?”

“Stay here!” You order, not really understanding why you’re doing this either. “Just… Wait for my signal!”

Dustin curses, not at all liking this plan, but he listens. He tightens his grip on his bike’s handlebar and makes sure you never leave his line of sight in case you need him for backup.

As you approach Billy, you make sure to circle widely around him so that he sees you coming, before finally facing in front of him. You brake a few feet away from him, incredibly nervous for how he may react. You haven’t spoken to him since last winter, he had kept his promise to Max to leave you alone.

Billy barely seems to register that you’re in front of him. He stops as if he’s in a trance and blinks slowly at you. You notice the cut on his forehead, how there’s still fresh blood dripping from it, and something within you wants to tend to the wound. Then you notice the grime that covers his face and his jacket, and you begin to worry even more.

As you’re eying his disheveled appearance, Billy opens his mouth, and the action looks as if it takes all the energy within him to do so. “S–sweetheart?”

“Are you okay?” You ignore the nickname he gave you that makes your skin crawl. You’re more worried about his appearance. He’s sweating like crazy, almost as if he’s on drugs, and he’s paler than normal. His California tan is gone, his eyes are glazed over, he looks as if he isn’t really here with you right now.

It scares you. You’ve never seen him like this.

“‘M fine,” Billy slurs. He seems… off. More drawn into himself now, less sure of himself. Scared, even. It’s a strange sight to see: Billy Hargrove, alone and frightened, in the early morning of June. “I… I’m fine.”

His slurred words aren’t reassuring, and a part of you wants to offer him a ride on your bike. You assume he’s heading to the local pool to lifeguard, you know it’s where he spends most of his days, but you have Dustin with you and you’re still nervous around Billy.

The wounds he gave you may have healed, but some nights, when the nightmares are really bad, you wake up to his hands around your throat.

It feels wrong just leaving Billy like this, though. He’s still human, Max has slowly opened up to you about her abusive stepdad and the way he punches her brother. You know that Billy’s actions come from his hurt, but you don’t think you’re ready yet to forgive him. Not now, at least.

Reluctantly, you sigh and wave your hand to indicate to Dustin that he’s fine to start biking over. Billy doesn’t seem like a threat right now in his current state. When you see your brother start to pedal closer, you look back at Billy. “Listen, I know we aren’t… friends.”

Billy stares blankly at you, and you really hope that he can understand what you’re saying right now.

“But if you need anyone to talk to, about anything, come find me, okay?” You tell him, hesitantly placing a hand on his arm as you speak. However, when your skin makes contact with his, you flinch at how cold he is.

Before you can say anything else, Dustin finally catches up and brakes softly next to you. He looks nervously between you and Billy. “So… Uh. Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yeah…” You pull away from Billy, your fingers almost numb from his cold skin, and spare him one last glance as you start to bike away. “Remember what I said, okay?”

Billy doesn’t say anything.

You and Dustin leave him stranded on the side of the road.

Neither one of you talk about this.

–

As usual, Downtown Hawkins is deserted when you and Dustin arrive at Melvald’s. The only two cars parked in front of the rundown store belong to Joyce and Hopper.

You hop off your bike and park it in the bike rack before carefully untying the container of muffins from the back. Dustin is slumped on top of his bike, silently complaining, and you wave a stern finger at him. “Wait here, okay? This will only take five minutes, I promise.”

“I’m telling Steve that you’re cheating on him with Mrs. Byers.”

“Not cheating if we aren’t together,” you quip, before opening the door to the store.

When you step inside the store, you’re greeted with Hopper obnoxiously yelling and jumping around as Joyce laughs and claps for him. Curious, you carefully side step the grown man and make your way over to the woman.

“Y/N!” Joyce lights up even more when she sees you, and then lets out a small cheer when she sees that you’re holding one of your signature baked goods containers. “Are those for me?”

“Always, Mrs. Byers.” You grin at her and set the container down. “They’re the muffins you really liked last week, thought I’d bake a special batch just for you.”

Hopper now joins you at the store’s counter in front of Joyce. He’s practically vibrating with his excited energy, so much so that he even smiles at you and claps a hand behind your back. “Kid, it’s like you knew we’d be celebrating a monumental occasion today.”

“What, did Jonathan finally wash his bedsheets?”

Joyce shakes her head and Hopper claps again, now grasping your shoulders and shakes you around. “No, even better! I got Mike out of my house!”

Through Joyce, you had learned all about Hopper’s utter disdain of Mike’s relationship with El. He has spent every day at their cabin since getting together, and even you have had to pry the girl away from Mike a few times to hang out with her. It’s hard bonding with El when Mike is breathing down your neck.

You’re all for young love, you think they’re adorable together, but christ. You understand Hopper’s frustration.

“Actually,” you’re still being shaken by the man. “That does sound better. How’d ya do it?”

Hearing your question, Hopper thankfully stops shaking your shoulders and now happily points at Joyce. “It was all her. I’m the puppet, she’s the master. Joyce gave me a brilliant script to say to the kid.”

“So you remembered everything?” Joyce asks, now unwrapping one of your muffins with glee.

“Yeah… well,” Hopper pauses. “I mean, I had to improvise a little bit, you know?”

You wince. “Oh, that’s never good.”

He glares at you but continues to explain. “It turns out that getting to Mike was the key.”

His words only make you wince again, and you look at Joyce. She meets your eye and the two of you silently agree that something doesn’t sound right here. She questions Hopper further. “And you didn’t yell at him?”

Hopper hesitates, which you expected. “I’ll… tell you everything over dinner.”

“Okay!” You step in between the adults and wave your arms out, preventing whatever else is about to be said. “I’m still here, let’s remember that.”

The chief glares at you again and narrows his eyes. “You’re right, you are still here. Why are you still here?”

“Because Mrs. Byers loves me and I baked her delicious muffins.” You deadpan, which Joyce chuckles at. “And while I’m sure whatever she told you to say to Mike was lovely, I have my doubts that you actually listened.”

“She’s got a point, Hop.” Joyce voices.

Hopper sighs at you both. “Okay, maybe I said some things, haven’t told El the whole truth, but what else was I supposed to do?”

“Not lie to kids?” Crossing your arms, you make a face at the man.

“Easy for you to say, little miss Hawkins’ sweetheart.” Hopper scoffs at you. “Got any better advice?”

You roll your eyes at his words. You understand that the man is still grappling with being a father again, he’s never been one to handle feelings any better, so you spare him some pity and try to be honest with him, say what he needs to hear. “Look, all I’m saying is that the best thing my deadbeat father ever did was teach me kindness, and it broke my heart when he was dishonest in the end. Just, don’t be that way with El, okay?”

Hopper is quiet as your words hang in the air.

Joyce is quiet as well, looking between you and the chief with a fondness in her eyes. It’s not often she sees someone render Hopper speechless, and she knows that it’s one of the many things she loves the most about your relationship with him. Though she would never tell you this, she thinks that Hopper secretly has his own fondness for you as well.

When the silence stretches for an uncomfortably long amount of time, you clear your throat and change the subject. “Well! This was fun, happy we did this.”

Hopper snorts, relieved you’re moving on as well. “Get lost, kid.”

“Gladly.” You turn back to Joyce and press a swift kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you later, Mrs. Byers!”

Joyce says goodbye as well, and when you’ve left the store, she faces Hopper with a slight smirk. “She’s a good kid, Hop.”

“She is,” he agrees, looking down at his shoes. He will never admit this to anyone else, but to Joyce he knows his words are safe. “She’s the best of ‘em.”

–

When you finally get to the mall, Dustin basically dumps his bike in a spot next to a disgruntled older couple and runs before you can even slow down. He’s so lost in his excitement to see Steve as he runs towards Scoops and leaves you to deal with his bike and the couple alone, which you groan at.

“He acts like it’s been a year,” you grumble, finally hopping off your own bike to grab Dustin’s and secure them both to a nearby rack. After mumbling a quick apology to the couple your brother practically threw a bike at, you run after him inside.

By the time you catch up, Dustin has just entered Scoops and is talking to Robin. You approach, curious to see how this event will unfold. Robin hasn’t met your brother yet, and you have a feeling that his abrasive nature will either make her his biggest fan or absolutely hate him.

It’s the Henderson charm, really.

“I’m Dustin,” your brother introduces himself as you come to stand next to him. When he notices your arrival, he motions towards you and winks at Robin. “I’m sure Y/N has told you all about me.”

Robin raises her eyebrows at the kid, and you try to cover a giggle with a cough. “I’m Robin. I’m sure Y/N has told you a lot about me.”

“I probably have,” shrug, knowing you always talk about the people you love. When Robin and Dustin both look at you with confused faces, you quickly clarify, “I’ve talked about you both, I mean.”

“Can we cut the chit chat?” Dustin asks, now annoyed by how long this conversation is taking. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Robin, but uh. Is he here?”

“Is who here?” Robin looks over at you for help, but before you can prepare her for the inevitable storm of Steve’s bizarre and endearing friendship with Dustin, the older teen’s body comes crashing through the backdoor and his sneakers squeak loudly against the tile.

“Hendersons!” Steve raises his arms in the air in greeting, an ecstatic smile on his face when he sees both you and Dustin standing in Scoops Ahoy. You and your brother start to laugh as Steve now dances around, cheering and gleeful. “You’re both here! Little Henderson is back!”

“I’m back!” Dustin cheers. “And you got the job!”

Steve is beaming and his smile is probably one of the happiest you’ve seen cross his pretty face. He had complained about missing Dustin the entire month he had been gone, moaning and groaning about how he was bored at your house now that he didn’t have Dustin to shoo away.

“I got the job!” Steve mimes playing the trumpet before he starts his intricate and dumb handshake with Dustin.

It’s a complicated process, with fist bumps and pretend lightsaber death. They had come up with it during a particularly boring snow day at your house. You watched as they thought up the handshake while you made cocoa for everyone, heart swelling as Steve was so patient with your brother and encouraged his nerdy little habits.

It had taken them almost the entire day to create what they deemed “the perfect handshake”, and as they go through it once more in Scoops Ahoy, you feel the same swelling in your chest as you did the very first time you saw them come up with the handshake.

While you gaze fondly at Dustin and Steve, Robin stands next to you and watches in horror. As Steve pretends to spew his guts everywhere, the girl leans over to you and says, “Is this what you deal with every day?”

“Yeah,” you can’t help but smile softly at the two boys. You missed seeing them together, more than you thought you had.

Robin sees the dreamy look in your eyes as you stare at Steve and she gags. Unhappy with how this day is looking, she turns to him. “How many children are you friends with?”

Steve’s smile falls and he sighs in defeat. Wordlessly he points at Robin as he looks at Dustin and raises his eyebrows in an exasperated manner. He’s had to deal with Robin’s teasing all summer, and Dustin seems to catch onto what he’s trying to tell him, so he quickly changes the subject. “Sorry we got here so late, man. Y/N insisted on gossiping with Mrs. Byers before coming here.”

“I spoke with her for five minutes.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Yeah, five minutes too long.”

“Your breath reeks.”

“You have a pimple on your chin.”

You gasp and quickly cover your face. “I do not–”

“This is fascinating,” Robin whispers as she looks between you and Dustin. “It’s like there’s two Y/Ns.”

Steve, having heard Robin, laughs. His smile had returned to his face as he watched you interact with your brother. “They’re reunited for one day and are already at each other’s throats.”

“Got a month of insults to catch up on,” you flick Steve, who winces and rubs his nose, offended.

Dustin suddenly straightens up. “Speaking of catching up…” He looks at you and tries to subtly motion over at Steve, mouthing “Russians!”, and being everything but discrete.

Steve frowns, unsure what’s happening, but you’re too busy worrying about revealing anything to Robin; she’s scarily good at reading people. Looking wearily at her, you clear your throat and tug at Dustin’s shirt. “C’mon, why don’t we get some ice cream and tell Steve about what you built at camp?”

Again Steve frowns. He had been hoping to share a sundae with you, not talk about boring science stuff with your brother. “Why do I wanna hear about some weird nerd tech–”

“Because you promised me free ice cream last night, when we called.” You interrupt, silently pleading with him to catch onto what you’re saying. “Remember?”

Something shifts within Steve’s eyes and his carefree expression now darkens. He remembers the fear in your voice last night over the phone, how you had asked him to tell you stories to fall asleep to. Clearing his throat, Steve nods and plays along. “Oh, how could I forget? Take Dustin to your booth and I’ll whip up some sundaes.”

You smile at him, thankful as always for how attuned to you he is, before you say a quick goodbye to Robin and tug your brother over to where you normally sit. Once you’re sure Robin isn’t listening, you yank at the boy. “Real subtle back there, doofus.”

“Oh, like Robin would know what Russians could mean.” Dustin grumbles as he slides into your designated booth. His hand catches on something in the seat and he tugs at it, pulling out an old Captain America comic. Holding it up, he narrows his eyes at you. “You really made a home here, huh?”

“Sure did,” you prop your feet up and dig out the Spider-Man comic you had been reading a few days ago. “The ice cream is surprisingly good here.”

“Yeah, I’m sure the ice cream is the reason you’re always here.” Dustin doesn’t even want to imagine how many hours you’ve spent in this cheesy ice cream parlor ogling over Steve. Maybe it’s a good thing he was gone most of the summer.

You flip to the last page you left off on and ignore Dustin’s insinuation. “Hey, free ice cream is free ice cream.”

“Can’t argue with you there.” Steve arrives and places down two giant sundaes onto the table. He slides next to you into the booth with a grand flourish. “Tada!”

Dustin wastes no time digging into his ice cream, making obnoxious noises as he shoves the food into his mouth. You cringe, disgusted that you’re related to him, but Steve kisses your cheek when the kid isn’t looking, and you can’t help but smile. Sneaking your own kiss to his cheek, you thank him. “You’re getting really good at whipping up sundaes, Steve.”

He preens at your praise. “It’s all in the forearms, ya know?” He makes a show out of rolling up his sleeves to show off his arms, which you giggle at with a slight flush on your face. Despite working inside all day, Steve has a nice sun kissed tan, which compliments how long his hair has gotten this summer.

Between his short Scoops Ahoy shorts and his hair streaked with sunlight, summer looks good on Steve.

In between bites of his ice cream, Dustin lifts his head up. “Quit talking about Steve’s arms and flirting in front of me, it’s gross.”

You fling a banana peel at him. “You’re the one too busy devouring his food to talk about anything else.”

“So you admit you’re flirting with me.” Steve teases, winking at you.

Dustin covers his eyes in disgust, forgetting about his ice cream entirely. “Seriously, stop it! You’re my sister, how would you feel if I flirted with Suzie in front of you?”

“I would–” You try to think of a response, but ultimately you deflate, unable to come up with anything. Frustratingly, you realize that the kid has a point; you’d be incredibly grossed out as well. “I would hate it.” You sigh, accepting defeat.

“Who’s Suzie?” Steve asks.

“Dustin’s girlfriend.” You say, popping a cherry into your mouth as you eagerly await the teen’s reaction to the girlfriend news.

As expected, Steve’s jaw drops and turns to your brother. No way the little twerp got a girlfriend before him this summer. “Girlfriend? Since when?”

“Met her at camp,” Dustin smirks at him, proud he’s surprised Steve. “She’s super hot, too. Hotter than Phoebe Cates.”

You roll your eyes at his insistence of referencing Suzie’s appearance, but Steve seems interested, although in disbelief as well. “No, no way. Hotter than Phoebe Cates? No.”

“Why is Phoebe Cates the gold standard?” You ask, unsure when she became everyone’s dream woman. All things considered, she’s incredibly attractive, but it’s weird that every boy you’ve spoken to about this universally finds her attractive. Steve finds her attractive, which you’re choosing not to think about because you don’t look anything like her.

Steve hears the slight bitterness in your tone and shuffles closer to you in the booth. Meanwhile, Dustin takes another bite out of his sundae and nods at him. “Mhm, she’s brilliant, too. She doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in.”

“That’s great, Dustin!” You say, happy that your brother has found a girl who accepts him as he is. It’s sweet, really.

“I know, right?” He sits up straighter in the booth and smiles even wider. “She says kissing is better without teeth.”

You and Steve share a horrified look. Neither of you can believe what you’ve just heard, and you think a part of you died inside. Suddenly, the delicious sundae you’d been eating now turns to cement in your stomach at the thought of your little brother kissing a girl who enjoys his lack of teeth. “Oh, that’s… Yeah.”

“Wow!” Steve tries to mask his own horror and disgust, leaning even closer to you now to try and ground you as well. “Yeah, that’s… That’s great! Proud of you, man. That’s–That’s kinda romantic?”

Dustin basks in Steve’s praise and your disgust slowly melts away. Your brother genuinely seems happy to be with Suzie and even happier to tell Steve about it all. He won’t admit it, but you know he idolizes the teen. Steve’s word is like an oath to him, not even you have this much influence over the boy. If it were anyone else, you’d be offended and hurt, but seeing Steve flash Dustin a wink, you couldn’t have chosen anyone better for your brother to admire.

“So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?” Dustin motions towards his half-eaten sundae before turning to you. “How much ice cream have you had this summer?”

“A lot,” you shrug, taking another bite of your own sundae.

Steve lazily drapes an arm over you, which Dustin narrows his eyes at. “Yeah, I mean. Sure. It’s not really a good idea for me, though. I gotta keep in shape for the ladies.”

“Ugh,” you scoff in disgust at Steve’s words and shrug his arm off of you before scooting away from him. Sometimes you forget how much of an idiot he can be. That he used to wear the crown of King Steve. You turn slightly away from him and finish eating your ice cream, annoyed and slightly hurt, though you know you have no right to be.

It’s not like you’re with Steve, anyways.

Robin, from across the parlor, sees your sudden annoyance at Steve and calls out to him, “Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”

“Ignore her,” Steve groans, not having the energy to deal with Robin’s quips and your anger being directed at him. He turns to you and lowers his voice. “I was kidding, Y/N. You know that–”

“Robin seems cool,” Dustin interrupts, not at all wanting to witness a lover’s feud between you and Steve. He left you two alone for a month, he thought he’d come back to you guys being an old married couple. Instead, he still has to suffer through your weird in between chaos.

You jump at the chance to gush about Robin, all while avoiding Steve’s pleading eyes. “She’s amazing. Genuinely one of the coolest people I know.”

“She’s not.” Steve corrects you, shaking his head. You roll your eyes at him and flick his ear, but as your hand lowers, he catches it with his and intertwines your fingers with a practiced ease. The action makes you blush and look away, still not ready to forgive him just yet. Steve sees the blush and feels your fingers tighten around his and he feels as if he can breathe again. There’s hope, at least. “So, where are the other knuckleheads?”

Dustin sighs. “They ditched me yesterday.”

“No,” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Y/N, did they really?”

“They… Kinda did.” You wince, absentmindedly placing your other hand on top of the one Steve is holding. He smiles softly at the action, momentarily forgetting about what you've just told him.

“My first day back! Can you believe that shit?” Dustin’s hurt from last night returns, which only makes you feel worse.

Steve leans forward now, invested and equally as offended as the boy. “Seriously?”

“I swear to god,” Dustin pauses to take another bite of ice cream. “They’re gonna regret it, though, big time, when they don’t get to share in my glory.”

You drop your head onto the table and groan. “Is this really how you’re going to segue into the Russian thing?”

“You’re my sister. Why would you expect anything less of me?”

“Touche.” You lift your head back up and continue eating your ice cream. It’s the only thing keeping you going right now. Steve has learned how to make your sundaes perfect, adding the peach ice cream you adore with just the right amount of whipped cream.

Meanwhile, Steve has a confused look on his face as he looks between you and Dustin. “Glory? Russians? Did I miss something?”

Dustin smiles mischievously and lowers his voice as he slides closer to the teen. You roll your eyes at his antics, knowing that the conversation that’s about to unfold will only give you another headache. You missed Steve and Dustin being together, but you didn’t miss the way they seemed to double in stupidity when together.

Looking around to make sure he won’t be heard, Dustin begins to explain. “So, last night, as Y/N and I were trying to get in contact with Suzie…” He pauses, sees that Scoops Ahoy is now filling with more customers, and lowers his voice even more to an almost inaudible whisper and covers his mouth.

You and Steve both lean forward, unable to hear him. The teen asks Dustin to repeat himself while you sit there with slight amazement. You know what Dustin is trying to say, you’re more just surprised the kid can be so quiet. It’s a goddamn miracle, honestly.

Dustin inhales deeply and again tries to discreetly inform Steve of the Russian code, but his whispers are still too low to hear. Taking a final bite of your ice cream, you click your tongue at your brother. “You’re really killing it there, buddy.”

“Dude, just speak louder.” Steve’s curious interest is now more of an annoyance.

“I intercepted a secret Russian communication!” Dustin all but shouts, which causes you to practically throw yourself over the table to cover his mouth.

“Jesus fuck!” You look around and see everyone’s eyes on you, and with your hand still clamped firmly over your brother’s mouth, you clear your throat and laugh nervously. “I mean, haha. Pardon me.” The customers give you a weird look but turn away, though Robin continues to stare at you.

Steve gently removes your hand from Dustin’s mouth and once again intertwines his fingers with yours. “Jeez, okay. Yeah. That’s what I thought you said.”

“Did you have to yell?” You sneer at Dustin, still looking around nervously to make sure no one is paying too much attention to the three of you. While Hawkin’s Lab was overrun by Demodogs and every scientist within it died, you’re still terrified that they still have allies watching your every move.

Not that you think the Lab is responsible for Russians, but… Better safe than sorry.

Dustin rolls his eyes at you. “Your boyfriend is the one who couldn’t hear me.”

You’re about to correct him when Steve waves the boy off and goes back to the main topic. “What does any of that mean, though? The Russian code and whatever.”

“It means that we can never catch a break–”

“It means, Steve,” Dustin sends you a dirty look. “That we could be heroes. True American heroes.”

Steve seems into the idea and you want to scream. You hate the way Dustin is explaining all of this. “This could mean danger, guys.”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you and Steve smiles wearily. “I don’t know, Y/N. It doesn’t seem so bad, ya know? We’ve fought Demodogs, how bad could some Russians be?”

You cross your arms and narrow your eyes. “The Demodogs were created by shifty government facilities. Why are we assuming Russia doesn’t have their own?”

“But… American heroes.” Steve looks heartbreakingly pathetic as he says this, and you realize now that his fixation on being seen as some hero stems from the hurt he still feels over his father. He hadn’t turned into who had expected to become, something that you know his father reminds him of every time he comes back from some business trip. You wish you could convince Steve that he’s more than what his father could ever expect him to be, but you know he wouldn’t listen.

With Steve’s pleading eyes looking at you, lost and hopeless, you can’t argue with him. Sighing, you accept that this is something he has to take part in, if only to rebuild his crumbling confidence. “Tell him what you’re thinking, Dustin.”

“Gladly.” Your brother wastes no time diving in, once more eager and excited to have the attention on him, and it’s only now that you realize he’s doing this for the same reason Steve is: they both feel abandoned and hurt. “We need your help.”

“With what?”

Dustin digs through his backpack and takes out the Russian dictionary he made you steal from work. He holds it up and shows it to Steve. “Translation.”

Steve’s eyes widen and he grabs the book to inspect it. There’s a new spark in his eyes, one that died the day his father told him he wouldn’t attend his graduation. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you exhale and slump in your seat. There’s no going back now. “I just want you both to know that I hate this plan and your excitement over it, but if I don’t help then you guys will somehow end up in a Russian gulag, and that would just be on me.”

Steve shares a look with Dustin, whose sigh reflects your own. “Glad you have faith in us, Y/N.”

–

It’s Steve's idea to work on the translation in the backroom of Scoops Ahoy, and neither you or Dustin argue. Technically, he’s the only one who has any real responsibilities today with work and all, so it makes sense to stay at Scoops and hide out there.

Dustin sits at the table next to you as he replays the tape recording over and over again. Steve paces the room and eats a banana, claiming he needed “brain food” to focus on the complex Russian language. You sit with your head in your hands, trying desperately to hold onto the bizarre language that floats around the room.

After his tenth time replaying the code, Dustin pauses the recording and looks at you and Steve. “So, what do you guys think?”

“It sounded familiar.” Steve shoves a piece of banana into his mouth. You cringe at the obscene amount of food he tries to chew at once. Seeing your disgust, Steve waves the banana in your face and asks with a mouthful of food, “Wan sum?”

“It’s like you want me to hate you today,” you slap the banana away, which he chuckles at.

Dustin gets both of your attention again with slight annoyance. He didn’t miss the weird flirting between the two of you at all. “Guys, focus. What do you mean the recording sounds familiar?”

“The music,” Steve still speaks with his mouth full. “The music right there at the end.”

“Why are you listening to the music, Steve?” Dustin exclaims, exasperated.

As your brother berates Steve for his lack of Russian translating, you sit up in your seat processing what he’s just previously said. While you hadn’t thought much of it before, now that Steve has pointed it out, the music does sound familiar. You swear you’ve heard it somewhere before, but you can’t remember where or when. It’s a hazy memory, distant in your mind, yet right in front of you. It’s incredibly frustrating.

“I think Steve is onto something,” you say, but the two boys are too busy fighting to hear you.

“I’m trying to listen to the Russian but there’s music–”

Suddenly the back door swings open and Robin appears. She looks agitated after having to man the cash register all by herself while Steve hides out in the breakroom. “Alright, babysitting time is over. You need to get in there.” When she sees that you’ve erased her whiteboard and replaced her “you suck” columns with the Russian alphabet, her agitation only increases. “Hey, my board! That was important data, shitbirds.”

You get up from the table and walk up to the girl, feeling bad. While you aren’t sure what exactly her “you suck” column and tallies were for, it had been her creation that you had erased without thinking to ask. Plus, you really don’t want her seeing the Russian dictionary on the table. “I’m sorry, Robin–”

“Not you, Y/N. You’re not a shitbird,” she points over to Steve and Dustin. “Those two are shitbirds.”

“I guarantee you, what we’re doing is way more important than your data.” Dustin interjects, a smug look on his face that makes you want to scream. He isn’t at all helping the situation.

Robin begins to walk over to the boys and you reluctantly follow. “Yeah? And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyways?”

Dustin’s jaw drops and Steve almost chokes on his banana. Seeing their stunned reactions of Robin having figured out what you’ve been doing, you sigh in disappointment. They’re such idiots sometimes. They wrote Russian on the whiteboard, out in the open, and have been playing the recording out loud, full volume, on repeat.

Of course Robin caught onto what you were doing.

Which only makes your nervous body tense up even more. You hate that you have to lie to her, you’ve become really close with her during your visits to Scoops, but you don’t want to drag her into anything dangerous. You’re not sure what exactly any of this Russian code means, but Robin has been nothing but kind to you this summer, you truly care about her, and it would kill you if something were to happen because of you.

So, despite knowing how smart Robin is, you try to think of a cover story. “We were just interested in the language. Ya know, a summer hobby.”

“I can hear everything, Y/N.” Robin sees right through your lies. “Your idiotic brother and boyfriend are both extremely loud.”

“Steve isn’t my boyfriend–”

“You three think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape and you’re trying to translate, but haven’t figured out a word because you didn’t realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet than we do.”

You, Steve, and Dustin all look at one another in varying degrees of awe and despair.

Robin, seeing your stunned faces, smiles. “Sound about right?”

“How could you not know about the Russian alphabet, Y/N?” Dustin angrily whispers at you as if somehow it’s your responsibility to know the ins-and-outs of the language.

“Why would I–you know what, no.” You ignore your brother and turn to Robin, trying to alleviate the situation and prevent her from finding out anything else. She’s too fucking smart, it’s both admirable and aggravating. “Look, whatever you think you heard–”

Suddenly Robin lunges for the Russian dictionary on the table, but Steve’s quick reflexes enable him to grab the book before she can. “Woah! What do you think you’re doing?”

“I wanna hear it.” She juts her chin out in defiance, though you see the slightly hurt expression she tries to mask. She hates that you’re purposely excluding her and taking Steve’s side in this.

You wish you could tell her the truth.

“Why?” You ask in unison alongside Steve and Dustin.

“Because maybe I can help. I’m fluent in four languages, ya know.”

Dustin perks up, now more open to the idea of Robin’s involvement. “Russian?”

“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.”

Steve and Dustin gasp, believing that they’ve just heard Robin say something in Russian, but you know better. One summer, when the party had been especially nosy and insisted on following you and Jonathan around, the two of you had learned pig latin in order to communicate without the twerps eavesdropping.

Learning against the table, you smirk at Robin. “Osay ouyay owknay igpay atinlay.”

“Holy shit!” Dustin gasps and Steve almost falls over with how quickly he looks at you in shock. Both boys stare at you in awe and you almost feel bad for their tiny little brains.

Robin can’t help but smile at you, you somehow always manage to surprise her. “Impressive, Y/N. Didn’t think you knew pig latin either.”

“That was pig latin?” Steve scrunches his face and hits your brother with his banana peel. “Idiot.”

“Steve, please don’t hit my brother with banana peels,” you pinch the bridge of your nose. It’s only noon and you’re already exhausted from today’s events. “But yes, that was pig latin.”

Dustin shoves Steve away from him and focuses on you again. “When did you learn pig latin?”

“The summer you and the party decided to stalk me and Jonathan.” You shrug, though you smile fondly at the memory. It had been a good summer, just the two of you holed up in your room as you quizzed each other on the bizarre language.

Steve, seeing your fondness at the memory, frowns. He doesn’t like the uncomfortable heat that he feels ignite within his stomach at the thought of you still being so fond over Jonathan. He trusts you, he trusts what you have, but he will never feel equal to him.

Robin notices Steve’s brewing insecurity and quickly changes the subject. She doesn’t have time for the usual hormonal drama between the two of you. All she wants right now is to decipher the Russian so that she can catch a break from Erica and her demanding need to try every free sample ever. “Back to the main point: I can speak Spanish and French and Italian, and I’ve been in band for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.”

You bite your lip. Truthfully, Robin has the highest chance of unraveling whatever the hell is in the recording. You’re horrible with languages, high school Spanish had nearly killed you, and Steve and Dustin stand no better chance. “Robin…”

“Come on,” she begs. “It’s Steve's turn to sling ice cream and my turn to translate.”

Steve and Dustin turn to you, unanimously agreeing that you’re the leader in this situation; whatever call you make, they’ll listen. Robin sees the conflict on your face and tries one last time. “I don’t even want credit. I’m just bored and wanna hang out with you.”

Your head spins. Robin’s pleading eyes are hard to fight against and you realize that she already knows more than you’d want her to; she’s already a part of it all, whether you like it or not. Sighing, you give in. “Fine, but only if you promise not to ask any questions about whatever we may find.”

“What would I even question?” She asks, unsure why your tone is more foreboding than accepting.

You share a look with Steve and Dustin. The three of you know just how quickly something simple can spiral into chaos in Hawkins. “Just… promise me, okay?”

Robin extends her hand, just happy to finally have something better to do. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

After you shake her hand, she tosses her ice cream scoop to Steve and he hands her the Russian dictionary. Seeing the exchange sends a slight shiver down your spine. You don’t like how much it feels like you’ve just signed Robin’s life away.

–

True to her word, Robin’s ears are little geniuses.

With her helping, you and Dustin are able to speed through the translating as Steve works the register. You’re tasked with writing down the letters that Dustin calls from the whiteboard as Robin listens to the tape over and over again.

“Weird ‘r’ with a hook!” Your brother declares for the last letter.

You write it down and can’t help but frown at the message you’ve seemingly deciphered. Showing the writing to Robin, you ask what she thinks. “Are you sure it was that weird ‘r’ sound?”

“I’m positive,” she says. “C’mon, let’s go tell Steve.”

“Are we sure–” You try to ask her again, but Robin has already made her way to the sliding window and gets Steve’s attention.

“We’ve got our first sentence!”

You make your way over and lean against the window as well. Steve, holding two ice cream cones, seems excited by the news. “Oh, seriously?”

“It’s a hesitant first sentence.” You butt in, still unsure if it’s even correct.

Robin rolls her eyes at you. “Ignore her, I’m right.” Then, clearing her throat, she does an impressive Russian accent. “‘The week is long’.”

Steve’s shoulders slump, clearly having expected something better. “Well that’s thrilling.”

“Told you it was a hesitant first sentence.” Then you turn to Robin. “Nice accent, by the way.”

“Why thank you,” she tips her hat at you before focusing back on Steve. “And I know it isn’t thrilling, but it’s progress!”

And with that, Robin spins around and goes back to the table in the breakroom, eager to decipher more of the code. You’re about to kiss Steve’s cheek and say goodbye, but then your eyes land on a familiar red-haired girl and her friend standing in front of the register. You look down at the ice cream in Steve’s hands and note the familiar order you’ve come to memorize since the mall opened.

“Max? El?” You lean further out the window, pleasantly surprised to see them. “What are you guys doing here? Where’s the rest of the party?”

The girls wave at you and giggle, and you realize now that you’ve never actually seen them alone together before. Normally they’re with Lucas or MIke, so it’s a bit jarring to see them getting along so well without the boys. Jarring, but also very lovely.

“We don’t need those idiots.” Max responds, which makes El giggle even more.

Steve whistles, impressed by Max’s bluntness, and hands them their ice cream. They begin to eat the treat before a thought occurs to him. “Wait a second, are you even allowed to be here?”

You walk through the breakroom and come out the main doors to join Steve at the register. While you’re happy to see Max and El getting along, Steve has a point. Why is El here in such a public space? When you had asked Hopper last month if you could take El to Steve’s graduation, it had taken a whole debate and a fresh batch of cookies in order to convince the old man to let her come.

El is still technically forbidden from being seen in public, and yet here she is: running around Starcourt with Max.

You put your hands on the counter and lean towards the girls. They take a few steps back, now knowing that you’re onto them. “Max, El, what are you up to?”

Their eyes widen while you narrow yours, daring them to lie. Then, quickly glancing at one another, they turn around and run out of Scoops Ahoy, leaving you alone with Steve. You both stand there, dumbfounded.

“I thought I only ever had to worry about the boys.” You whisper, horrified. “The girls were supposed to be the ones I could trust.”

Steve rubs your shoulders and kisses your cheek. “You’re gonna go after them, aren’t you?”

You drop your head and sigh. “Yeah, I am.”

“I’ll tell Robin you had a babysitting emergency.” He presses a kiss to your neck now, which you shiver at, before gently shoving you out from behind the counter. “Good luck, angel.”

Steve’s kisses give you the energy you need to run after Max and El. They’re surprisingly fast as they giggle and trade ice cream cones to share. You call after them as you dodge random people in the mall, but your calls are in vain. They ignore you and continue to skip happily away from you.

“Guys!” When you finally catch up to them, they’re outside standing in front of the bike rack. “Why are you in front of the bikes–oh.”

You see Mike, Lucas, and Will unlocking their bikes from the rack as they bicker over something. Faintly you hear Mike and Lucas arguing about splitting money while Will is silent.

There’s a tension between the girls and boys that you now take note of. Normally El would have already been wrapped around Mike’s arms, but she remains by your side as Max approaches the boys. “Well, isn’t this a nice surprise?”

When Mike sees El, he drops his bike in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Shopping.” El says as she glares at the boy.

You’ve never seen her so cold towards someone. It’s kind of frightening, honestly. “Oh, Wheeler, what did you do?”

“What did I do? No, what did you do? You’re the one who is letting her walk around Starcourt where everyone can see her!” Mike shrieks, always finding ways to blame you for his own problems.

You scoff. “Hey, I’ve only known about this for like, a second longer than you have.”

“Sure, likely story.”

“Have you ever considered not pissing off your girlfriend?”

“Have you ever considered getting a better boyfriend than Harrington?”

“Okay–”

Max steps in between you and Mike, annoyed. “Both of you shut up!” She waves her hand over El’s outfit and tries to turn the conversation around. “This is El’s new style. What do you think?”

“I think she looks nice–”

Mike cuts you off. “What’s wrong with you? You know she’s not allowed to be here.”

“What is she, your little pet?”

El clenches her jaw. “Yeah. Am I your pet?”

“What? No!” Mike denies, equally as confused as you are.

You’re not quite sure how you ended up in this situation.

“Then why do you treat me like garbage?” El questions the boy.

You frown at this and subtly step towards Lucas, desperately hoping for some clarification. “Did I miss something?”

“It’s a long story.” He sighs, and you now realize that Max must be angry with him, too.

El continues to interrogate Mike, and you almost feel bad for the boy. “You said Nana was sick.”

“She is! She is sick.” Mike lies through his teeth. You think about what Hopper told you earlier, how he had said some things to get Mike away from El, and you suppose now that it had involved some type of lie about the kid’s grandma.

Then Mike shoves at Lucas to get him to play along as well. Reluctantly he echoes his friend, though you know he’s aware that he’s only making this worse for himself. “She’s super sick, that’s why we’re here, actually.”

Mike is quick to follow along. “Yeah, we’re shopping! Not for us, but for her, for Nana.”

You catch Will’s eyes, who has remained silent this entire time, and he shakes his head at you in disappointment. You look back at Mike and Lucas now, unamused. “Nana isn’t sick, is she?”

“She is! But…” Mike fumbles over his words now. “We’re also here to get a gift for El. We just–we couldn’t find anything that suited her and I only have like, $3.50, so it’s hard.”

“It’s expensive… Had we known you were at the mall we would’ve asked you for money.” Lucas mumbles, which you flick his forehead at. “Ow, Y/N!”

El looks between Lucas and Mike, her eyes showing her hurt. “You lie.” When neither boy says anything, her hurt only grows and her voice wavers with tears. “Why do you lie?”

Again, El’s words are met with silence. Mike looks down, too ashamed to meet her eyes, and you shift uncomfortably, feeling even worse for the kid. You hadn’t expected to witness an awkward relationship feud today, and it wasn’t all entirely his fault. You know that Hopper played a role in this.

Later, when you have the time, you’re definitely going to yell at the police chief about this.

As the silence drags on, the local bus that drives everyone in Hawkins to Starcourt now arrives in the parking lot. Hearing its brakes hiss, El looks behind her and seems to make up her mind about something. Her face is stony as she approaches Mike and her words are laced with venom. “I dump your ass.”

You and Max gasp, though yours is more from shock and Max is more from being impressed.

Mike’s face falls and El whips around and begins walking towards the bus. Max follows, waving goodbye to you, and you’re left to deal with the unfortunate outcome of this bizarre situation.

Laughing nervously, you awkwardly pat Mike’s back. “You’ll… Uh, fix this, right?”

Mike slaps your hand away and marches back towards his bike. His shoulders droop and he looks tired from all he’s had to deal with today. Lucas doesn’t look any better and silently follows after his friend. Will is the only one who remains, and he drops his head to your chest and groans. “I just wanted to play DnD today.”

“I know, little bee.” You scratch his head and try to console him. “But sometimes life gets in the way. Right now Mike and Lucas need you, do you think you could help them?”

Will looks up at you. “I don’t know… Maybe, I guess.”

“Do what you can,” you kiss his forehead, wishing you could do more for him. All he’s wanted to do all summer is be a kid again, but his peers are growing older and leaving him behind. It isn’t anyone’s fault. “I gotta go, buddy. But I promise you and I will do something this week, just the two of us, okay?”

He nods, content with this, and you ruffle his hair before heading back inside to Scoops.

–

Hours later, you, Steve, Dustin, and Robin all uncover the rest of the Russian code.

You stand with your back against Steve’s chest as he has his arms draped loosely over you. Robin and Dustin stand to your left as you all face the whiteboard that has the message written on it, reading it out loud.

“‘The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west’.”

There’s a pause as you all take in the bizarre message. You’re extremely doubtful that it’s right. The order of the words is too abstract to possibly be purposeful. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“Are we sure this is right?” You ask the group, knowing no one else will utter the doubt that settles over the room. Steve tightens his arms around you and shrugs.

“It has to be.” Dustin mumbles, though even he looks unsure.

Robin sighs. “Well, whether or not we’re right, dingus and I have to close up shop.”

Steve groans but reluctantly lets go of you so that he can help Robin with closing. While the two teens wash the ice cream scoopers and put away the remaining ice cream, you sit with Dustin at one of the booths.

“Maybe it’s a code?”

“Dustin, we just translated a foreign language. Thinking it’s a code seems like a cop-out, honestly.” You rest your head in your hands and watch Steve count the money in the register. Feeling your eyes on him, he looks up and winks at you. Blushing, you look back at your brother. “We probably just translated it wrong.”

“My ears are right! We didn’t translate anything wrong!” Robin shouts from across the store.

Dustin perks up. “See? We have to assume we’re onto something.”

You bite your lip, still unsure, but leave the topic alone for now. There’s no point arguing with Dustin and Robin because it’s not like any of you can just ask a native Russian speaker who is correct. If it somehow ends up being a hidden code, then you’ll apologize to Robin’s ears later.

It’s quiet in the parlor after that, but when Steve and Robin have finished closing and he pulls the gate down to lock up the store before you all go home, Steve can’t help but bring the subject up again. “I mean–it’s just, it can’t be right.”

“It’s right.” Robin affirms once more, and Dustin nods at her appreciatively.

“Honesty, I think it’s great news.”

Steve walks next to you as the four of you slowly head towards the mall’s exit. It’s late, you’re tired from your long day of translating the Russian language, and you’re ready to go to bed. Then, as if somehow knowing the exhaustion that weighs upon you, you feel Steve slip his hand into yours. His fingers are warm and the touch soothes you as he gently guides the two of you.

“How is this great news?” Steve asks your brother. “I mean, so much for being American heroes. It’s total nonsense.”

“The goal isn’t to be American heroes, dummy.” You chide, tugging at your hands to make sure he looks at you and listens. “We aren’t still going to follow this, are we?”

Dustin rolls his eyes at you both. “It’s not nonsense, it’s too specific and obviously a code. And yes we’re going to keep following this. We’re onto something, I can feel it!”

“All I feel right now is a crippling migraine forming,” you groan, rubbing at your temples.

Steve kisses your head in concern, feeling bad that he’s kept you out so late. However, he also really, really would love to become someone important. Someone worthy of his dad’s favor, so he follows after Dustin, curious despite it all. “What do you mean a code?”

“Like a super secret spy code.”

“That’s a total stretch.”

You snort. “That’s what I said, but no. Why should we ever listen to Y/N? It’s not like she’s always right in the end.”

Robin winces, afraid to annoy you further, but she can’t help but agree with Dustin. “I don’t know, is it really a stretch?”

“No, please don’t tell me you believe my brother.” You’re betrayed, hurt even, that Robin would succumb to Dustin’s fantasies.

Normally you’re all for believing your brother, but Russians in Hawkins leaving a hidden code in a radio frequency that can be accessed by the public? You may have fought alternate dimension monsters and you may know a girl with mind control powers, but even this feels far fetched.

“Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What’d you think they were gonna say, ‘fire the warhead at noon’?” Robin raises her eyebrows at you.

“Well… no.” You slump your shoulders, knowing that she has a point. “But–”

“Just admit we’re right, Y/N.” Dustin says, annoyed.

Robin turns to you and almost groans when she sees your hand intertwined with Steve’s. Her voice falters for a moment at the sight, but she clears her throat and carries on with the conversation. “And my translation is correct. I know that for sure, so… ‘the silver cat feeds’. Why would anyone talk like that unless they’re trying to mask the meaning of their message?”

Dustin is next to her now, hanging onto her every word as you and Steve lag behind. “Exactly!”

“It is a weird phrase,” you mumble under your breath, and Steve can’t help but chuckle at how endearing you are when you try to play the reasonable role. It’s never any use, you’re everything that hope and optimism embodies; it’s adorable.

Robin sees that you’re close to giving in and begins to ramble now. “Why would anyone mask the true meaning of their message unless the message was somehow sensitive?” Again Dustin agrees with everything she says and Steve shrugs his shoulders while all you do is sigh in defeat. Looking at your brother, Robin concludes, “Guess that confirms your suspicions.”

“Evil Russians.”

“Okay, no.” You step between them now. “What if they’re just, like, really shy Russians who want some privacy? Why do we always jump to the evil conclusion?”

Dustin shoulders you to get you to shut up, and you shove him back, starting a small spat between the two of you. He hits your shoulder, you hit his stomach, and Steve watches with amusement while Robin stares in horror.

“Do we stop them?” She asks the teen.

Steve shakes his head. “I’ve learned that it’s best to just let them fight it out. It’s been a month, they’re behind on their fist fighting schedule.”

“I heard that!” You quickly say to him before yanking Dustin’s shirt to get him off of your back.

Seeing your struggle, Robin forces your brother off of you and holds him by his arms so that he doesn’t jump on you again. Dustin complains, but quickly shuts up at what Robin says. “Focus! I’m trying to tell you that I agree with you, this is totally evil Russians.”

Dustin stops struggling against her, now elated at the idea of defeating evil foreigners. “So how do we crack it?”

You were scared that Robin and Dustin wouldn’t get along, but as you watch them bounce schemes off of one another and plan an evil Russian take down, you’re now terrified of the friendship brewing between them. It’s worse than Steve with Dustin; Robin is just as cunning as your brother is.

She thinks for a moment. “I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges.”

“Have we ever considered a game plan for after poking our noses where they don’t belong?” Dustin and Robin both glare at you and you hold your hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying.”

“Ignore her, Robin. She likes to pretend she’s the rational one in these types of situations.” Dustin whispers to her, which you roll your eyes at. Steve kisses your cheek as a way to console you as your brother continues to speak. “Anyways, maybe the ‘silver cat’ is a meeting place?”

“Or a person.” Robin theorizes.

“Or a weapon.”

As the two of them come up with insane theories about what the code could mean, you notice that Steve is no longer by your side. Turning around, you find him stopped at one of the carousel horses meant for little kids. He’s bent over it, examining it. You frown, unsure what he’s doing, and walk over to him.

Resting a hand against his back, you lean down next to him. “Can I ask what we’re looking at here, honey?” He’s mumbling under his breath and digging through his pockets for something. Now you’re starting to get concerned. “Steve?”

“I need–do you have a quarter?”

“No?” You’re even more concerned now. Placing the back of your hand against his forehead, you check his temperature. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Sure you’re tall enough for that ride?” Robin quips as she and Dustin now join.

“Quarter!” Steve demands, nearly falling over as he tries to catch the one that she tosses him. When he catches it he quickly pushes the coin into the machine’s slot, bringing it to life. Music begins to play as the horse moves back and forth. It’s ominous, almost, in the mall’s dim lighting with no one else around.

Steve listens intently to the music, his face concentrated as if trying to understand something. As the music continues to play, you can’t help but feel that it sounds familiar. It reminds you of something, maybe a distant memory that you can’t quite recall. Wanting to understand more, you lean in close to the machine as well and mirror Steve’s actions. “The music…”

“They’ve both lost it,” Dustin mumbles when he sees that you’re also now analyzing a stupid carousel horse.

“Y/N, you helping little Stevie up onto the ride?” Robin laughs at her own joke, but you swat at her to shush her.

As the song plays once more, it finally clicks. Your mind flashes back to your conversation with him earlier in the break room as you kept replaying the Russian recording over and over again. It’s the same song. With a gasp, you throw your arms around Steve’s neck and begin kissing his face over and over again. “You’re a genius!”

Steve leans into your kisses and smiles at the praise, relieved that you don’t think he’s some idiot. Though his heart is beating wildly, he clears his throat and shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal. “I have my moments.”

“Care to share with the class, dinguses?”

Robin’s voice startles you, having momentarily forgotten where you were. Blushing, you pull away from Steve and clear your throat as well and act as if you weren’t just drowning the boy in kisses. “Listen to the song, guys.”

The seriousness of your tone causes Dustin to finally listen to the music as well. It only takes him a few seconds to piece together what you and Steve already have. “Holy shit. The music.”

“The music.” You confirm with pride, still incredibly amazed that Steve managed to remember such a small yet crucial detail. Since coming to befriend him, you’ve come to admire just how perceptive he is. Sure, he may not be a math whiz, but his emotional and creative intelligence leaves you in awe every time you see it. He’s smarter than anyone gives him credit for.

You wish his father saw this intelligence within him. Honestly, you wish more people did.

Dustin yanks his backpack off of his shoulder and starts rustling through it as he searches for something. When he finds his tape recorder, he starts to play the Russian transmission again. Hearing the audio and carousel play simultaneously side by side, it only confirms what Steve has long since figured out: it’s the same song.

Not being able to help yourself, you again kiss Steve’s cheek, giddy and proud of him. “You’re brilliant.”

He preens while Robin scrunches her nose, unsure why you’re all over the guy because of some song. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s the exact same song on the recording.” Dustin explains to her.

“Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?”

You nod at her. “Maybe? We should look into who produces these machines, it could be our new lead.”

Steve shakes his head. “‘Indiana Flyer’? I don’t… I don’t think so.”

Something seems to shift within his voice and his face now twists with slight fear. He looks as if he’s realized something awful, and you feel your own joy from earlier vanish. A chill runs through you, the same awful feeling of dread that once overwhelmed you when Will originally disappeared now courses through you again.

“What is it?” You softly ask Steve, already bracing yourself for the worst.

He frowns at the apprehension in your voice and the worried crease between his brows makes you want to smooth away the concern. You know he doesn’t want to scare you, that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, so you tilt your head at him and nod slightly; you want him to tell you. Seeing your unspoken permission, he sighs. “This code, it… didn’t come from Russia. It came from here.”

You, Robin, and Dustin all look at one another. Fear settles over the group, you can feel its heavy weight like an old, familiar friend.

“Why does everything happen in Hawkins?” You say to no one in particular, still trying to process what this all means.

Dustin sighs and Steve drops his head.

Somehow, you always end up here.

–

Steve offers to drive you and Dustin home after seeing how shaken up you are by the latest Russian revelation. Tired and exhausted and terrified as usual, you accept.

It takes some trial and error, but eventually he and your brother manage to fit your bikes in the back of the BMW.

The drive to your house is filled with awkward banter between Steve and Dustin. You sit quietly in the passenger seat as the two boys try to make light of the situation, but not even their jokes can lessen the fear that creeps into the car; none of you are sure what to make of all of this.

When Steve pulls up to your house, all that you’ve managed to do the entire car ride is make a mental note to call Jonathan about everything later. It’s not your best plan, you wish that there was more you could do, but at the very least you know that he and Nancy can help.

Dustin scrambles out of the car, desperate to escape the tension within it. “See you tomorrow, Steve!” He calls behind him before slamming the car door shut.

You snort softly at your brother, finally moving to unbuckle your own seatbelt, before Steve places his hand on yours and stops you. He’s noticed how quiet you’ve been the entire car ride and the way your eyes have clouded over with fear. He hates it. “Do me a favor?”

“Yes?” You blink at him, unsure what he could want at this hour. It’s late and your mom expects you home soon.

“Leave your window unlocked for me.” He winks at you, trying to play coy, but you see the genuine concern for you hidden beneath his actions.

You can’t help but smile; it feels as if you can breathe again. “Steve Harrington, why should I leave my window unlocked for you?”

Your smile sends a warmth through Steve’s chest as relief washes over him. He’s doing something right. He’s gotten you to smile. “Because I’m planning on sneaking in after I park my car a few blocks down so your mom won’t see me.”

Though you know what he had been implying, hearing him say the words out loud causes a wild blush to burn across your cheeks and your stomach to swoop. Steve has never done this before, sneaking into your room like some lovestruck teenager late at night, it’s been the one boundary neither of you have crossed before.

“I suppose I can do that.” You say with an air of indifference, which Steve rolls his eyes at. “Strictly friendly, of course.”

“Oh, of course.”

You giggle, finally unbuckling your seatbelt, and you exit the car after kissing the boy’s cheek. His face is warm against your lips and you’re coming to memorize the way your nose presses against the indent of his cheek bones.

When you get inside, your mom is knitting on the couch while Tews sits in her lap. She greets you with a smile and you compliment the scarf she’s making. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect for this winter, mom.”

She thanks you and wishes you a good night, noticing the bags underneath your eyes with slight concern. Inside your room, you quickly clear away the scattered pieces of paper on your desk and arrange your bedding so that it isn't strewn across the room. Steve has been in your room a million times now, and yet you can’t help but feel like tonight is different for some reason.

True to his word, within ten minutes Steve is knocking on your window. Hearing the quiet way his knuckles rap against the glass makes your heart jump in your stomach. Your body practically buzzes as you go to open the window, eager to have him close to you.

“Took you long enough,” you tease, opening the window wide enough for him to crawl through.

Steve pulls himself up with ease, his biceps strain against his Scoops Ahoy uniform, and you’ve never been more thankful for corporate policy. “Sorry, angel. Came here as fast as I could.”

You tug at his shirt and the two of you are falling into your bed. He lands on you with a soft thud and your body has long since become accustomed to his weight. As his body settles upon yours, it feels like coming home. You exhale deeply, wrapping your arms around his body, and Steve nuzzles his face into your neck and presses a gentle kiss there.

Everything swirling violently within your head now stills. The constant onslaught of worries and doubts finally quiets, and you know that despite it all, at least you have Steve.

“We’ll figure it out, ya know.” Steve’s lips move against the skin of your neck as he speaks, making you shiver slightly at the sensation.

“I know,” you start to play with his hair, needing something to do with your hands as you speak. “But… How many times are we going to keep doing this? Be the only people in Hawkins aware of what’s going on?”

Steve is silent for a few moments, allowing your words to sink in. He rolls them around in his head, he knows that the question isn’t one that comes from doubt of what he and the others are capable of. You don’t lack faith, you lack the willingness to constantly place the ones you love at risk. It just isn’t in your nature.

“As many times as needed.” He pauses again, unsure how to express to you his certainty that you’re capable of so much with all the love within you. If there’s anyone in this shitty town who is a real American hero, it’s you. “I mean, after everything we’ve been through these last two years, measly Russians are no big deal. We’ve fought worse monsters than Communism.”

You laugh, he always somehow gets you to laugh, and the sound is as angelic to Steve as your eyes are to him. He tightens his arms around you and relishes in the way your body presses against his, how he can feel your body move with every inhale of your laugh.

Then, slowly, your laughter dies down. Reality settles upon you once more and you want to believe Steve, you do, and you try to reassure yourself that he’s right… but something feels off about this. You can’t exactly articulate what it is, but there's this haze of uncertainty that you’ve never quite felt before; a vulnerability that leaves you feeling cold in his arms.

Sensing your fear rising up again, Steve tries to distract you by changing the subject. “Speaking of monsters, I recruited the little heathens to help with your birthday gift.”

The change of subject works. You raise your head and look at the teen. “You mean the party? You got them to help with a gift for me?”

“Don’t sound so surprised, Y/N.” Steve butts his head against your chin playfull. “I can make them listen to me… sometimes.”

You stare at him, knowing he’s full of shit. “Go on, tell me all about how you got them to listen to you.”

He tries to hold your gaze, refusing to back down, but he cracks after only a few seconds. “Okay, fine. It took a lot of pleading and I now owe a bunch of pre-teens money.”

A loud, full body laugh escapes your lips, and Steve laughs with you. The two of you hold one another and feel each other laugh, chests rising with glee. For a moment you feel okay again, forgetting everything else for now. You’re carefree in this moment, feeling like a little kid again, something only Steve can do to you.

When your laughs die down, you and Steve quietly lay together. No other words manage to find their way in the dark of your room, all that needs to be said has been laid to rest. His warm breaths hit the base of your neck as your nails scratch against his scalp. While you feel safe in his arms, there’s still so much that needs to be said.

Staring at the ceiling of your room, you see faint threads and strings and lines that you thought you put to rest that night in Jonathan’s room this winter. Now, they’re back again, only this time it’s a different boy within your arms. Something akin to doubt creeps in.

Steve already has all of you, you told him you’d wait, but what if you’ve missed your chance again with him like you did with Jonathan? When June began, Steve promised that you had all summer together. He calls you angel and tells you stories to fall asleep to on the phone, and yet the threads that glow above you taunt you.

You love him, you do, but you’re terrified that whatever the two of you uncover with the Russians will somehow pry you apart.

Just like Will’s disappearance had pried Jonathan away from you two years ago.

July looms over you and summer is going by faster than you thought it would. The promise of summer, one that usually leaves the nostalgic taste of honey on your tongue, now threatens to choke you.

As if having a mind of their own, your arms tighten even more around Steve, almost as if somehow you can shield what the two of you have from the dangers within Hawkins.

You hope it’s enough.

⌑ series masterlist

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#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #nya #m's writing #this one foreshadows loooooads #like so much #i feel so sneaky

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spideytingley · 10 hours

Text

my april fic recs!

percy jackson & the olympians

luke castellan

true luck’s kiss by @atlabeth

summary: luke is stuck with a streak of bad luck. what better way to get rid of it than with a child of tyche?

twin beads by @supercutszns

summary: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder.

ACOTAR

azriel

a healer’s touch by @bat-boys

summary: as a healer you meet many people as part of your profession but when you are asked to heal a certain spymaster you are unprepared for the connection that comes with it.

eye of the storm (series) by @thesunloveschips

summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know.

missed target by @imaginesmai

summary: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.

if it all fell by @pellucid-constellations

summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

notice me! by @heartless-tate

summary: Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

love of choice by @writingcroissant

summary: The Cauldron doesn’t always pick wisely when it comes to mates, but even though Azriel isn’t hers, she chooses him.

bluebird (series) by @acourtofwhatthefuck

let me keep you company by @utterlyazriel

summary: You're studying in Velaris and a certain Shadowsinger catches your eyes in more than one way. It takes a while to realise the shadow keeping you company means more than you expect.

strings that bind us by @parkerslatte

summary: Y/N owns a small bookstore in Velaris. When she struggles to take her stock in, a handsome stranger approaches her and offers her help. She accepts the help and Y/N insists on making him dinner for his help. Azriel originally denies this but he finds himself eventually saying yes for reasons he doesn’t understand quite yet.

wings by @itsswritten

summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

you don’t get to tell me about sad by @bubbles-for-all-of-us

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

marvel

bucky barnes

always you, forever by @pellucid-constellations

summary: Bucky wants to take you away from it all. This time, you might just let him.

clark kent

handyman by @itsrubberbisquit

summary: Clark has been smitten with his accident-prone neighbor for quite some time. She tracks him down to make a familiar request with an unusual ending.

jason todd

four times red hood blushed because of you, and one time jason todd blushed by @mxtantrights

grishaverse

nikolai lanstov

this is me trying by @criminalamnesia

summary: the last time you saw Nikolai, he told you he never wanted to see you again. now, you’re standing outside his door.

dancing with our hands tied by @criminalamnesia

summary: Nikolai confronts you about unspoken feelings

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yandere-writer-momo · 15 hours

Text

Yandere Head Canon:

A Friendship Forever

Yandere Platonic Unicorn x GN Reader

This is a self indulgent piece for all the people who always wanted a unicorn as a friend when they were young (albeit a crazy one).

Tw: Kidnapping, being held hostage (affectionately), platonic yandere, and yandere themes

Your hands ran a brush through Andromeda’s white main. The unicorn leaned into your touch with a whinny.

“Andromeda, I cannot stay here.” You softly whispered to your longtime friend. The unicorn turned her head to look at you, her soft voice rung in your brain. It still unnerved you that she’d always communicate with you telepathically despite how many years she’d done this…

“But it’s safe here. You said you didn’t want to get married or grow old, so I brought you here.” Andromeda’s white ears flapped against her head, another whinny left her lips.

“I said that when I was five, Andromeda.” You sighed softly. “I’m in my twenties now-“

“Humans are a fleeting existence! You’d whither away if I didn’t step in!” Andromeda nodded her head. “You’re my best friend! I cannot bear to lose my best friend!”

Andromeda rose to her feet before she shook her head, her dark eyes held a playful glint in them. “Come on! We can frolic together in the enchanted forest just like we always have!”

“We can play forever! This is much better than being with humans. Humans are bad! But not you… you’re the best!”

Andromeda nodded her head at you, a snort escaped her muzzle when you didn’t get up right away. “I know you’re not tired! You’ve slept for hours! Come on!”

You sighed when Andromeda stomped her hooves at you to encourage you to get up. The unicorn happily whinnied when you obediently followed her. “There we go! Want to race to the waterfall?”

“Andromeda, you know you’ll win.” You sighed when the unicorn stamped her hooves against the forest floor.

“Not true! I let you win sometimes!” The unicorn began to circle you as she shook her mane about in a playful manner. This unicorn was still quite childish despite the many years you’ve known her. “It’s been a fifty-fifty!”

Andromeda bumped her head against your back. “Well, if you don’t want to do that, we can make flower crowns in the field!” The thought seemed to excited the unicorn who began to bounce up and down. “You can make your flower crowns and I can eat some flowers! That’s a fantastic deal, wouldn’t you say?”

You gave the unicorn a sad smile. This mythical creature could never understand you properly. You knew her will came from a good place, you’d never starve her or worry about rent anymore… but you missed your friends. Your human friends. And time seemed to pass by so differently in this enchanted forest. The weather was always perfect… And that’s when a terrifying thought entered your mind. How long have you been here exactly?

“How long have I been here with you now, Andromeda?” You softly asked the unicorn, hopeful for reassurance that it’s only been a few weeks… that you still had a life to go back to if you tried to escape.

Andromeda thought for a moment before she stomped her hoof on the ground. “It’s been about five months here, but that’s fifty years in your world!”

Andromeda circled you. “I upset the balance of the forest for my very best friend! But the spirits are not upset with me since I’ve been alone for so long! Yes, yes! We will be together until the end of time! Just you and me… friends forever.”

You felt a few tears run down your cheeks as your situation finally sunk in. You really were trapped here forever with her…

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reidsdimples · 2 days

Text

The First Time

Spencer Reid x Reader

The BAU helps you on a case, things get heated between you and Spencer.

Spencer takes your virginity 🤭

18+❤️‍🔥

You rock gently back and forth on the wooden porch swing. The night Is quiet, peaceful. Only a small breeze stirring up leaves to keep your thoughts of the day at bay.

It was over. The lakeside killer was dead. Thanks to the BAU, your small town of Rockwell can rest easy again. You can breathe. You’re one of two homicide detectives in the whole town and you’ve only been at it for a year- this case nearly destroyed you.

Kids.

Why kids?

It’s always kids they want to hurt. You blink back tired and sigh.

“Hey,” comes a soft voice followed by soft steps on the wooden porch. The BAU team is staying at the lodge, set for departure in the morning. It was the only accommodations the deportment could offer.

“Dr. Reid. I thought everyone was asleep,” you give him a half smile and sip your tea. He’s wearing his FBI jacket that seems unbelievably comfortable.

“Most of them are, I had no luck though,” he gives you a sympathetic grin. The three small bodies recovered today didn’t make the murderers death feel like a victory.

“Me either,” you shrug.

You know then just how much he gets it, pain recognizes pain. He feels it, he’s seen it. You pat the bench for him to sit next to you, he does so.

Talking to Spencer always reminded you of talking to an old friend. This was the second time you’d met him, though before was under better circumstances. You were relived he was the one who came outside and your stomach whirled when he sat beside you.

“I feel disgusting after today. The things we see… do you think they tarnish us?“ You ask him.

“We are a culmination of how we identify ourselves and thus present ourselves to the outside world. If you let it, it can consume you. It’s hard not to make these things apart of us, not to become some uglier version of ourselves,” he answers, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I’ll just have to take solace in knowing he can’t hurt anyone ever again,” you nod. You rub at the back of your neck, the tension in your head pounding.

“There are actually a few pressure points to more adequately elevate headaches, here I’ll show you,” Spencer says. He prompts you to turn from him on the swing. You swallow, unable to say anything. Is he about to touch you?

“This…” his long fingers drape over your shoulders, his thumbs pressing into the base of your neck. “Is known as the shoulder well.” He adds more pressure and moves his thumbs in a circular motion. The tension trailing up your neck warms and starts to ease.

He continues to press into the spot that seems to force your entire body to relax. His hands working skillfully I so the muscles, his fingertips grazing over your collarbones. Somehow a small moan slips out and you hope he doesn’t hear it. Only he pauses, falters in his rhythm. He heard you.

“They call this the gates of consciousness,” his voice is lower. His hands move up your neck, his thumbs at the base of your skull. His touch sends shivers and electricity through you. Your nipples harden but he can’t know that. He presses into the space between your tense neck muscles, willing the tension into submission. It works.

“Spencer,” his name slips out and your head lulls back towards him. The blinding headache has subsided. All you can think about is his hands on you.

The warmth in his fingers as he grips your neck to hold your head up, his suddenly noticeable body heat in the space between you, and his scent all become overwhelming.

His hands move from your neck to your head, his middle fingers gently rubbing your temples. Then somehow you find that you’re leaning back into his chest. His hushed breathing steady, he doesn’t seem to mind.

The swing sways gently, only one of his legs on the ground to steady it. His other leg folded beneath you. He stops his massaging and lays an arm across your chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly while his other hand brushes through your hair. You close your eyes and take in the sensation of his touch while the wind chimes play softly in the autumn breeze.

You’ve never been touched this way, never felt the warmth gather between your legs at a man’s actions. It’s new, you welcome it.

“You’re beautiful in the moonlight,” he hums as he mindlessly runs his fingers through your hair. It takes you off guard, leaving you feeling exposed as your cheeks heat.

You squirm against him but manage to look upward at him. He looks down at you, the top of your head against his chest as you strain to see him. He’s breathtaking. You reach up and touch his face, grazing his jawline with your fingertips. He clenches it, attempting to maintain some modicum of control.

If you weren’t you, if you weren’t inexperienced, you would invite him to bed. You can’t do that though, you’ve never had sex. It would surely be awkward. You sigh and drop your hand, the need turning into agony in the pit of your stomach. You won’t ask that of this brilliant man. You sit up and break contact with him altogether.

“What’s wrong?” He placed a hand on your thigh, looking at you through concerned brown eyes.

“I-“ you pause. You don’t know how to tell him you want him, much less that you’re a virgin. You don’t want any pressure placed on him. You just shake your head, words failing you. You stand from the swing look off of the porch into the night.

He moves quietly to stand behind you, you stop breathing when his tall lean frame closes around you. His arms wrap you into him and he sways gently.

“I know we should keep this professional,” he whispers in your ear. His breath brushing your neck and making you come alive. “But you drive me crazy.”

His words are clipped, hurried, hushed, and needy. He turns you to face him and before you can respond, you’re leaning up to meet his kiss. His hands grip your face, his mouth invading yours hungrily. You twist your fists into his shirt, a couple of the buttons popping open as you pull him closer. Both of you desperate for touch, for comfort.

His hands fall and find your waist, gripping tight, before traveling up your shirt.

You inhale sharply and jump, sensitive to his touch. A foreign delicious sensation sweeping over you.

He pauses and stares into your eyes, his own blown wide with need.

“Have you never been touch before?” He speaks softly.

You shake your head ‘no’ shyly. He grins and leans down to kiss you delicately. He intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Follow me,” he instructs and leads you quietly back into the massive lodge where everyone is staying.

He pulls you playfully behind him up the wooden stairs, his finger length hair falling messily as he walks. Your eyes trace his long legs, taking in how his pants hug his waist. Your mouth waters, actually waters.

Finally you’re in his room, it’s almost completely dark save for the sparse moonlight trickling through the drapes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask him as he closes the space between the two of you.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He seems perplexed.

“Maybe,” you giggle.

“I want to make you feel good, I’ll go as far as you’re comfortable taking this,” he tilts your chin up to kiss you.

“I just don’t want to put pressure on you because I’ve never…” you trail off.

“You’re not,” he reassures you. He steps forward, his hands resting on your hips, prompting you to walk backward.

The backs of your knees find the bed and he guides you down into it. You exhale softly when he pushes your shirt up, hands gliding over your skin.

“So soft,” he praises and plants a kiss on your stomach. He’s kneeling between your legs, planting whispers of kisses across your stomach from one hip bone to the other.

He yanks your pants down abruptly and slides your panties down with them, discarding them.

You immediately feel exposed and squeeze your legs closed. But then his hands are trailing up your legs from your ankles to your thighs. It sends waves of euphoria over your body and you arch your back when he parts your legs once more.

“You don’t have to hide,” he plants a kiss on your inner thigh. You groan and squirm beneath him.

He pulls your legs onto his shoulders before reaching up and squeezing your breasts hard. He looks breathtaking between your legs, drawing out your moans as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.

“Spencer,” you beg. His breath fans across your vagina in a sweet tortuous way that stirs a need so intense that your eyes roll back.

He slides his fingers down your slit, a noise of appreciation comes from his throat when he finds you wet. He coats his fingers in it before slowly pressing his middle finger into you. It’s new, but it feels so good. You tense up in anticipation.

“Relax, it’ll feel better,” he coaches and pushes into you further. “You’re so tight,” he muses.

He slowly moves his long middle finger in and out and brings his tongue down to your clit. You cry out as pleasure envelopes you. He sucks hard and curves his finger upward causing you to buck against him. You moan as his tongue and finger drive you wild, beckoning closer to the edge.

“Fuck,” you cry and grind against his face. You’ve never felt so good, you didn’t know pleasure like this existed.

He dips his tongue into with his finger and trails it back up to your clit.

“So sweet,” he praises against you and continues his torture.

You are wound so impossible right that it’s almost painful, he has you moaning and crying out into the room. Your legs are shaking around his head and he only picks up the pace with his finger.

“Shhh, don’t wake the others,” he warns. His words coming out between lapping at your cunt cause you to cum with a restrained groan.

You shake against him and he removed his finger, pleased with himself. His grin drives you crazy so you grab him by his collar and pull him on top of you.

“Mmmm,” he moans. “What do you want me to do to you now?” He hovers above you and nips at your neck with his teeth. You feel his cock straining against his pants, prompting you to reach down and unbuckle his pants.

Your need for him is so primal, so singular, that you can’t focus on anything else. He helps you and pulls his pants partially down.

He pushes your legs back, opening you wider for him.

“Remember what I said, focus on relaxing,” he instructs. You nod, biting your lip which he notices. He kisses you hard, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

He pushes his cock against your entrance, pressing in gently. Your breathing hitches as your body begins to expand around the head of his cock. He’s not even in yet, but it burns.

Spencer grips your hair, moving slowly as he eases himself into you.

“Ah,” you wince.

“It’s okay baby, you can take it,” he reassures you. “Breathe,” he whispers.

When you exhale slowly he pushes in further. You feel it the moment your hymen breaks with a sharp sting but then he’s able to push himself in further.

That slight pain gives way to intense pleasure and then he’s inside of you completely. He shudders and a moan erupts from deep inside of his chest.

He pulls his hips back, working his cock out of you before pushing himself back in.

“You feel so good,” he grunts and links his fingers with yours.

Your hands are linked above your head, he thrusts into you slowly and desperately. The sounds of your moans feel the room and entangle with his breathy whimpers. His other hand grips your thigh as he rolls deeper and deeper into you.

Raw pleasure consumes you until you know nothing but the connection of your bodies, his breathing, his cock beckoning you to the edge.

“You’re doing so good,” he moans. Your free hind curls into his hair, forcing him to look eyes with you.

His mouth falls open as he rocks in and out of you. You lose yourself in him, you lose the ability to restrain your moans. He crashes his mouth into yours, absorbing the sounds. He tastes like mint and salt. He tastes delicious and your tongues fight for dominance. Your hips thrust upward to meet he’s rhythm and you think you’re going to cum again.

You didn’t think you’d be able to because of the pain but it’s too good, he’s too good.

“Spencer,” you break the kiss and shatter as he pauses so you can ride your orgasm out against him. Fuck.

“So pretty cumming for me,” he whispers breathlessly. “I’m gonna-“ he grunts and pulls partially out of you.

You feel him shudder, his cock pulsing, and then you feel his warmth flood you. He pulls out the rest of the way, allowing his cum to pour out of you. He watches in awe for a moment, his tongue darting across his bottom lip.

His short hair is tousled, his forehead beading with sweat, and his lips are plump and raw from kissing you.

“Let me run you a bath,” he offers. You drag the blanket over yourself and smile when you nod.

He stands to his full height, tugs his pants up, and leans down to kiss you.

“You did so good,” he grins and disappears into the bathroom.

#mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid one shots #mgg pics #dr Reid #spicy spencer reid #matthew gray gubler

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your-eternal-lies · 3 days

Text

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME (chapter nine)

Main Navigation || Series Masterlist Please follow @your-eternal-library for all my fanfiction updates.

Pairing — Steve Rogers x f!Reader Summary — As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.

Warnings — None.

YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME

CHAPTER NINE DANCERS IN THE DARK

Steve leans against the mirrored wall of the elevator, enjoying the sight of you in his arms a little too much to be normal. You’re playing with the neckline of his t-shirt, your fingers occasionally brushing up against the column of his throat, the curve of his Adam’s apple.

You’re driving him absolutely bananas. He pictures it, him and you, outside the steel confines of your accidental prison. Maybe you’d take him to a dimly lit bar, the kind with peanut shells crunching underfoot and neon signs buzzing overhead.

You would roll your eyes at his attempts to order something other than a beer, your mouth quirking up as he fumbles through a cocktail menu.

“Trying to impress me, Rogers?” You would tease, your voice laced with mock incredulity while sipping something deceptively potent from a martini glass.

“Is it working?” He’d volley back, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. And you would laugh, that easy melodious sound that seems to tickle him right down to his toes.

“Come on, Captain Perfect,” your voice reaches him for real this time, and he looks down to see you glancing up at him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. “We’ve talked about everything from your favourite colour to the last time you cried during a movie. I want to know… who was your first kiss?”

He can feel his cheeks burning with a shade that probably matches his iconic shield. His tongue seems to tie itself into a patriotic knot as he stammers, “I… It’s not really… I mean, it was a long time ago.”

You laugh airily as you observe his bashful squirming. “Was it before or after you became a super soldier? I’m picturing a handsome and earnest little Steve, all knees and elbows, fumbling his way through a peck on the lips.”

“It was after,” he admits, the corners of his mouth reluctantly curving upward. “Her name was Susan. She was sweet, and she had hair like the sunset.”

“Well, that’s just adorable.” You smile, slapping him lightly on the chest.

“We were at Coney Island,” he chuckles, brushing your hair back behind your shoulder. He pauses, collecting the memory like one might tenderly lift a fragile photograph. “I decided I was going to be brave.”

“Ah, the bravery of young love,” you interject with a playful sigh.

“Something like that,” he continues. “I bought her a hot dog and we rode on the Ferris wheel. When we got to the top, overlooking the ocean, and I figured it was now or never.”

“And?” You prompt, entirely captivated despite yourself.

“I leaned in, closed my eyes, and… missed,” Steve admits with a wry grin. “I ended up planting one right on her chin.”

“Oh, Steve,” you giggle right into his ear, sending a jolt of shivers down his spine. He can’t help but join in on your laughter, his mingling with yours. “I see you’re not always Mr. Perfect. Just a regular guy who made a girl laugh on a Ferris wheel.”

Regular. The word is foreign yet fitting as he looks down at you, your laughter subsiding into a warm smile that reaches your eyes, and feels a tug at his heart.

Here, away from the world-saving and villain-chasing, he doesn’t have to be anyone but Steve for you, and even more miraculous, that seems to be enough.

“You know what I haven’t done in a while?” He asks, his arms hanging loosely around your form. You quirk an inquisitive eyebrow, urging him to go on. He fishes out his phone and puts on an old tune, soft piano notes filling the air. “I haven’t gone dancing in eighty years.”

“Dance? Here?” Your laughter hitches in your throat. The idea seems ludicrous; you’re stuck in an elevator, not a ballroom. But nevertheless, you straighten out of his arms, immediately lamenting the loss of his warmth. “I… Steve, I don’t know how.”

Not for long, however, as he stands up after you. “I’ve got you.”

He takes your hand gently, the other finding its spot in the curve of your waist with a certainty that sets butterflies free in your stomach. He lifts your arms, wrapping them around his broad shoulders.

The space is cramped, so your movements are tentative at first, each step measured and careful. You begin to sway together, your bodies mere inches apart, and as you find your footing, something just clicks.

“Relax, you’re doing great,” he murmurs, a smile playing on his lips as he notices the concentration etched on your face. The music swells, a crescendo that seems to command you to move, and instinctively, you respond.

Steve guides you effortlessly as the song croons on about love in a bygone age. His hand is warm on your waist, his grip firm but gentle as if you’re something precious, while your own hands hold firmly onto his shoulders.

You are even closer now, so close that you can count the shades of blue in Steve’s eyes. His hand slides from your waist to your back, his eyes never leaving yours as he dips you carefully. You feel a flutter in your stomach, a sensation that’s alien yet achingly familiar, like a forgotten dream surfacing.

Your faces draw nearer as if pulled by an invisible string, and Steve whispers your name in a hushed voice, as if saying it is akin to invoking a spell, one that can break barriers and build bridges all in the same breath.

Steve tilts his head, his lashes fluttering as his eyes dart towards your lips. You hold your breath, the moment suspended, a bubble of anticipation shimmering with the possibility of what could be—all sealed with a kiss.

But reality has a peculiar sense of timing.

“Hello?” A voice slices through the magic, sharp as shrapnel and twice as sobering. “Who’s in there?”

Steve blinks, the spell broken as you both turn towards the source of the intrusion.

“...Sharon?”

« Chapter 8 || Chapter 10 »

Taglist — My taglist has been discontinued. Please follow @your-eternal-library and turn on notifications for all my fanfiction updates.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #summer’s fics

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comfortless · 21 hours

Note

ur konig fics heal me thank you my morning is better :DD

anww, i had a bit of a question! i wasnt sure if u have already answered this question, but how would konig react if he finds out his darling is somehow affiliated in the same field he's in? whether that be a medic or smth else etc etc aside from that, i love ur fics c:

thank you, beloved! ^^ i did a bit here!

but to expand on that a little, i think you may get more leeway with him being a medic.

Instead of being pestered to return home (his home), you may just get this brute extending a hand to help you out. Not that he’s got a lick of medical training. He can patch a wound with a makeshift tourniquet in the midst of some firefight, knows well enough not to fall asleep when he’s been banged up a bit too much, but assisting you with other people is a very large, pronounced “No.”

Soothe him by letting him hover a bit and watch you work. He’s not supposed to be in here, but it’s nice having some wolf in sheep’s skin nearby to pass you the gauze from across the room. So long as he isn’t lifting or touching the poor injured souls in your care, it shouldn’t be much of a problem, right? No one dares to peep any criticism for your work when you’ve got a smitten Goliath nearby, anyway.

Except, he does get a bit jealous here. You’re so gentle with the operators in your care, cooing to them and tending to their every need like a servant rather than the lovely angel that you are to him. He almost wishes that he weren’t so good at what he does, just to experience that once. Or twice. Or for a lifetime. Whatever time you’re willing to give to him, he will take it.

Maybe he gets a bit reckless, gives himself a minor injury by pulling something in the midst of lifting weights. König doesn’t do that; when he fucks up, he deals with it himself, so it’s more than a little strange to see him crossing into the room with an actual injury. It won’t put him out for long, just enough time to experience your gentle hands over him, see that caring look in your eye directed toward him instead of one of these bastards that doesn’t truly appreciate you, not the way that he does at least.

He misconstrues you just doing your job as an outright declaration that what he feels is mutual, and maybe it is, because the care that you give to him is different. You laugh, not at him or his injury, but out of pure mirth when you ask who’s going to offer you ibuprofen instead of gauze now. Your touch is lingering, and you playfully shove the shoulder that hasn’t been wounded when he tells you a kiss would cure him better than any medicine.

His wayward courtship comes with every nick or scrape he “suffers”. The comments grow increasingly strange the moment you’re on your knees tending to the tiniest bruise you’ve ever seen on a man. You both know it’s absolutely nothing, that all of this is absurd and silly and he should just make some sort of move already. Except, that when he does tell you this scene would be so much better in his room, you’re quick to shush him and request that he leave.

… But you don’t stay angry with him for long.

Your favorite soldier always returns to you.

The next time with a clumsily plucked, yellow wildflower and a stare that borders on unnerving when he thrusts the dainty thing into your face; a tight-lipped apology follows when he tells you that he’s not sure what came over him, you’re just so pretty, and that he thinks about you so often it’s making him more than a little crazy.

The time after that with food from a restaurant away from base and another vague profession of love.

And again, with some pretty necklace in tow that he claims used to belong to his mother. König is more intense than ever when he strings the jewelry around your throat with shaking hands, dips his head down to huff into your ear as an arm snakes around your waist to keep you trapped there against him.

“Is that enough?” is the growl that follows, the warmth of his breath and the sheer intensity in his voice causing every hair at the back of your neck to stand on end.

“For what…?” And you could almost pray he’s not truly dumb enough to attempt to lure you into his bed for a string of jewelry his mother trusted him with.

“To make you like me.”

To anticipate something that sounds so innocent from a man who kills for a living is unheard of. You already suspected after his ridiculous comment about a kiss, already knew from the start with all of the trinkets he’s fetched for you, but the thought that he didn’t know already… poor thing.

So, you tell him that you already do, that you have for a while, it’s just that maybe suggesting you blow him before offering a proper date is more than a little inappropriate. Not that having your overgrown suitor chasing your heels is any less.

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miizuzu · 1 day

Text

here is another one i did a while ago before the Xavier one... it got a bit... long haha.. n_n;;

“So, do you want to?”Tara asked hoping you would say yes.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea…” you reply to Tara.

“Come on! It will be fun! Besides, it would be so lonely spending Valentine’s Day at home all by yourself… Gasp! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it… it just slipped out!” Tara was trying to find every excuse she could to try and get you to go out with her. She didn’t mean to bring back any sad memories.

“You know what? You’re right. Let's go and have fun this weekend.” you answered as you gently petted her head, knowing she didn’t mean what she said.

It is the first Valentine’s day you are spending alone. You would go to your grandma’s house and spend the day with her and Caleb, but now that they are gone… Tara wanted to make sure you are not by yourself and recall sad memories.

“Really?!?! Hurray!! Since Valentine’s is on a Saturday, do you think we could have a girls night, so we could both leave together?” she asks as her eyes are full of excitement.

“Sure, let’s do that.” Still unsure of how this would even turn out. You have never been to a pub during Special events like these. What would you wear? Do you even have clothes that would fit the occasion? No point thinking about that now, since you’ve already agreed Tara you would go with her.

“I can’t wait till the weekend! Since we are off work now, would you like to go eat some dinner together?” Tara asked as she packed her things, ready to leave work.

“Sorry! I have a doctor’s appointment, I’ve already missed the last two appointments… if I miss the appointment today…” You don't even want to think of the consequences that would follow.

“Oh yeah… I guess Dr. Zayne would nag your ear off!” Tara says jokingly. We know that is exactly what would happen. “I guess I will just get a few things ready for Saturday then!”

Tara waves goodbye and you leave the Hunters Association HQ for your doctor’s appointment.

At Asko Hospital, you checked in with the nurse at the front and they called Dr. Zayne to let him know you’ve arrived. “The doctor will see you now.” You gave her a nod of acknowledgment and started walking towards Zayne’s office.

You knocked on the door, “come in” Zayne answered. You pushed the door open and entered. His eyes were still glued to his laptop while he tells you, “You actually showed up to your appointment this time, come have a seat.”

“Sorry Zayne, I got caught up in a few messy missions the last few times.” You try to be apologetic. “I’ve tried to book the earliest appointment they could give me to make up for it. Forgive me, please?”

You tried to act cute while being playful, winking and smiling with your tongue sticking out.

Zayne lets out a sigh, “No injuries, I presume?” He asked as he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Nope! Not a single scratch!” You declared confidently. You told Zayne stories about some of your missions as he went through your medical records.

“Everything seems normal enough.” Zayne informs you. “I guess you did pay more attention to your health after all.”

“Of course! Who dares to defy Doctor’s Orders.”

Zayne looks at you with one of his eyebrows lifted slightly. He lets out another sigh. He tries to change the topic as he asks “ Do you have any plans for Saturday?” As your childhood friend and your Doctor and someone who has a secret crush on you, he knows who you used to spend your past Valentine's. He also seemed worried that you would be alone this year.

Not understanding what he was trying to hint at, you answered “As a matter of fact, I do have plans, going to hang out with my friend that day.”

Zayne’s heart sank a little after hearing your answer, he asked with a serious voice “A friend?”

“Yup, Tara, from the Hunters Association.” Zayne had a small sigh of relief “She said she wants us to go to the Valentine's event they are hosting at the new pub in Azure Square.” Zayne's eyes twitched as he finished listening to what you told him. He didn't like the idea of other desperate men hovering around you, but he didn't tell you how he really felt.

“Feel free to call me if you need a ride home. I do not have work that day.” What Zayne secretly means is that he doesn't want little pests to take you anywhere, away from him.

“Does this mean our good looking Dr. Zayne didn't get a date for Valentine's Day?” You said jokingly. Zayne’s expression froze, you thought you got in trouble for hitting a nerve for making fun of him being single. “Wow, would you look at the time! It's time for me to head out and let your next patient in!” You quickly ran out of Zayne's office thinking he would be upset with you, little did you know what was actually going through the back of his mind. Good looking Dr. Zayne was pretty much all he focused on. He let out a small grin to escape from his emotions and ears were a bit pink from blushing. “I guess I would have to go and be her pest repellent after all.” he said quietly to himself.

Leaving the hospital, you pulled your phone out just to notice that you had a few missed calls, all from the same person, Rafayel. Thinking it might be something important, you pressed the call back button. He picked up so quickly as if he knew you were going to call him right that second.

“Did something happen? I just got out of my doctor’s appointment.” You can feel his incoming complaints and you were right.

“I’ve called you a thousand times, you are supposed to be my bodyguard but I can never get in hold of you! What if I got kidnapped???” Rafayel exaggerated his response, “I don't care, you have to make it up to me.” He demands. “You have to hang out with me this Saturday.”

“Sorry, Can't. I already have plans.” You replied. You can actually hear him huffing and puffing on the other side of the call.

“WHAT?” You had to pull the phone away from your ear since he actually yelled into his phone, “No! You can't. I won't allow it!”

“Well too bad,” you answered, placing the phone on your other ear as the side of him screamed into still rings. “We are going to hang out at my place after work Friday and heading out together Saturday.”

Rafayel was raging at this point, “You guys are even going to hang out at home??” He's so full of jealousy since HE himself has not been invited to your place before.

Somehow you weren't able to tell that he's actually being jealous, you said “Well yeah, Tara said she wants to hang out. I didn't really have the heart to tell her no… Besides, we will just be going to the pub in Azure Square, I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you show up. That is, being how you are technically a celebrity in Linkon, I'm not sure if that would be a good idea after all.”

After hearing confirmation from you that the person you will be hanging out with is not a male, and even asked him to join you, his angry temper has just dissipated into thin air. “Oh? Are you asking me out?”

You paused, it was just a slip of your tongue when you said that he could just ‘show up’, “... On second thought, don't come. I don't want to work on a Saturday.”

“Too late and no backsies! I’ll see you Saturday, Miss bodyguard!” Rafayel hangs up before you can even put in another word. He is now very excited and humming to himself while trying to online shop for an outfit to stand out for Saturday.

You on the other hand, still left with your mouth open trying to process how in the world did it turn out like this. It's much too late to regret now, you will just have to stick to it.

Finally arriving home, you face planted yourself into the bed, still trying to figure out how things seem to have derailed. You sat up thinking to yourself, do I even have an outfit for this occasion? You don't normally go to events like these and the only other time you would go to the pub is with your co-workers after a long day's work. You walked over to your closet, trying to see if there was anything you could wear. You see a cute white dress. But then you thought it would be easier to just wear your Hunters uniform instead.

Fast forward to Friday, just as we are about to leave work and head back to my place, Xavier comes walking towards your desk. “Hey, Y/N, do you want to walk home together?” He asked with a gentle smile on his face, “I’ve bought some of the snacks which we tried together, would you like me to give you some?”

Tara, who was witnessing all that is going on, can see the plans going in Xavier’s mind. Actually, everyone in the headquarters knows he has feelings for you, but for some reason you never seem to catch the most subtle hints. HE is the reason why no one has tried to make a move on you. Both of you don’t know this, but Tara secretly roots for the both of you to be hitched. “Only if there are enough snacks for me as well! I will be spending the night with Y/N tonight and going to the pub tomorrow. You should really come along!”

“I would love to come along, and don't worry, I've got enough snacks to last us all a few days.” He smiles so ever sweetly at Tara for suggesting that. You, on the other hand, felt a pinch on your heart, you somehow thought Tara and Xavier were interested in each other not knowing Tara was actually trying to set you up.

“Great! Let's get going shall we?” Tara asked with a big grin on her face. “Xavier can help hold our stuff!” She says as she hooks her arm around yours and starts dragging you out the door.

“You sure brought a lot of things with you today, Tara. You even brought a suitcase… How many days are you planning to stay at my place?” You jokingly asked.

“You never know what you are going to need! I even brought extra for you!” She winks. “Come on, let's get moving! Times a wastin!”

The 3 of you starting to walk home with Xavier following close behind while carrying everything. He said he wouldn't mind. You let your mind run wild for a bit while Tara and Xavier chats and giggles. You know you have some feelings for him but you are way too shy and do not ever want to ruin your friendship right now. You thought it would be enough to just be around him. Well, there were also other reasons too… he is not the only one you have feelings for right now. You liked Zayne for a long time but never got the courage to tell him. You also have feelings for Rafayel, even though he drives you mad most times.

While you were spacing out, Tara and Xavier kept whispering to each other. Tara was hinting to Xavier that he should really make his moves more clear for you, since you are so dense and doesn't seem like you would understand unless he says it straight to your face. Xavier also thought it was about time to ask you out and with Tara’s help, there is no better opportunity.

You finally arrive at the apartment and Xavier helps drop everything inside. “I will go get changed and bring the snacks down in a bit.” he says as he walks out the door and goes back to his own apartment above yours.

Tara thought he was just being nice and walking you 2 back but he actually lives upstairs. She pulls her suitcase close to the sofa and unleashes the contents around the area. “Y/N! Come take a look at what I brought over!”

You were in the bathroom getting changed and came out and saw she had laid out a bunch of different outfits, make up and accessories around the place. It was actually difficult to navigate around with how much stuff she has laying there. “Did you invite more people to come with us?” You tilted your head and asked dumbfounded. There were at least 10 different outfits just for the 2 of you.

“No, I kinda lost control while shopping… all these dresses are sooooooo cute! I couldn't just not get them!” You could almost see glitters in her eyes as she adores the cute dresses she got. “I bet all of these would look beautiful on you.”

“Wait… don't tell me you got all these for me to choose from??” You widened your eyes and looked at Tara. “Yessss I did~ knowing you, I would swear you thought wearing your Hunters uniform would be a good idea.” She says while staring coldly at you. You turned your head away from her gaze as that idea DID come across your mind. “No, I won't allow it.” she proclaims. “I will do everything in my power to make you be the spotlight tomorrow!”

Now you’ve done it, you unleashed something in Tara that should really be locked up. It's not like she will let you back out now, everything has been set on motion according to her plans.

Knock knock knock, you hear the door. It must be Xavier coming back with the snacks, you tried clearing out a path to get to the door. Once you got there and opened the door, you see Xavier also changed into his casual clothes and carrying an enormous bag of snacks.

“Come in, be careful where you step, Tara is just trying to claim my place as her own by covering my house with her things.” You jest. Xavier comes in and makes his way to the kitchen, he walks past all the cute dresses Tara had laying out.

An idea strikes Tara, she asks Xavier, “Hey Xavier, which dress do you think Y/N should wear tomorrow? She has a hard time deciding so help us out!”

He stood up and walked closer to the outfits lay about, he took a very serious look and thought to himself. He was so serious that at one point he had his head tilted and he had a finger pointing at his totem. There was this one outfit that Tara sees his eyes keep backtracking to, and sees that his ears got a little pink while looking at it. Yes, he was picturing you wearing the dress already and you look absolutely dazzling. Tara took the hint and pulled that one dress out and said “Ok, it's been decided, you are wearing this piece tomorrow!” She winks at Xavier but you didn't see it. Xavier gave her a nod of approval.

We cleaned up the place a bit and ate the snacks and chatted about work for a while. It was starting to get late as we lost track of time chatting away. Xavier stood up and said “it's getting late, I better get going. I’ll see you tomorrow?” It was like he wanted to make sure it was truly invited and not just Tara saying it at the heat of the moment.

“See you tomorrow.” You said to him. “I’ll get the door.” You also get up from your seat and walk Xavier to the door. “Well then, good night Xavier.” You said with a sweet smile on your face as you opened the door to let him out. “Good night, Y/N.” He smiles back as he waits for you to close the door.

He was getting very tired but he claps both his hands onto his cheeks and walks quickly back up to his own apartment, goes through his own closet to try and match one with the one he picked for you to wear tomorrow. He lays his choice on his sofa and plops on his bed and drifts into dreamland in a matter of seconds. He knows he would have a wonderful dream tonight since he got to hear you say good night.

Back at your apartment, Tara pulls out her trusty tarot cards and wants to see tomorrow's fortune for you before heading to bed. You told her you would go to the bathroom and get ready for bed. She starts doing her fortune telling. She flips card after card as her eyes get wider and wider, full of excitement. It would no doubt be an eventful day tomorrow. She doesn't tell you the results of what she was told, she just wants you to find out tomorrow.

Laying in bed, with Tara already fast asleep beside you, you let your mind wonder. Is Rafayel actually going to come out tomorrow? He really hates crowded places. But he is always willing to go wherever you tell him to go. After whining about it for at least an hour. He is very adorable sometimes and looks gorgeous. You also wondered if Zayne would really come pick you up, since he always has a busy schedule even on his days off. You like how he always takes care of you, even though he looks cold, you know he is a very caring person. You also thought of Xavier, who has a lot of common hobbies with you, taking care of you when the two of you go out on missions, making your safety the first priority at all times. You can't help but always feel safe when he is around. You also drifted into dreamland while reminiscing from his last smile while telling you good night.

You wake up to Tara's humming, a gentle melody that you swear you have heard somewhere before, but can't seem to remember where. “Oh, sorry Y/N, did I wake you?” She asked as she sorted out the dresses again, this time for herself.

“No” you sit up and stretch, one hand trying to rub the sleepy out of your eyes. “It was about time I should get up anyways.” you looked at the clock and it's already 10:30am, you got out of bed and headed to the bathroom to brush up. “What should we do about lunch?” You asked Tara right before you entered the bathroom.

“Can we order some delivery? I want to stay here and get ready for tonight. If that's ok with you?” She looks at you, head tilted to the side and hands locked, fingers intertwined, as if she was begging if you could take home an abandoned puppy. “How can I say no to that face?” You let out a playful sigh as you answered. “Alright then! I’ll find us something delish to eat, my treat of course!” She excitedly grabs her phone to look for some food delivery apps. There was a message, her eyes widened, she squealed with uncontrollable excitement. She cannot hold her giggles in. You tried to pop your head out of the room and see what is actually going on, you see her texting. Never have you seen someone typed that fast on a phone's keyboard. You were actually afraid to ask what had just happened, you slowly entered the room as she didn't even notice you checking on her.

Tara orders the food and it gets delivered here. We both ate and enjoyed the food. Now that our bellies were filled, I offered Tara to go shower and wash up first while I cleaned up the table. She took up the offer and hopped her way into the bathroom and into the showers.

After putting everything away, you walked over to the sofa, staring down on the dress that you’re about to wear for this evening. You do admit that the dress is super cute, but never have you worn something this style before, you wouldn't. You like to move around freely and sometimes your gestures get out of control. The dress is strapless and has heavy padding where a bra is not needed, almost as if your chest can pop out from just small movements. You got embarrassed and told yourself you better calm yourself tonight.

Tara gets out of the bath and told you it was your turn, she asks you for the hair dryer and goes to get herself dressed. By the short 10 minutes time of your shower, Tara has already finished with her look for tonight. She looks so gorgeous, her hair is curled and looks wavy. Her makeup makes her look so cute and adorable that even your heart skipped a beat when you saw her.

She tells you to change into your dress as well, you were a bit nervous, since you've never changed in front of anyone before, even if they were female, you felt a little uncomfortable. You sucked it up anyways and started getting dressed. Tara stops you. “Huh? What?” You question, Tara had this look on her face like you've committed a crime. “Take those off, you are NOT wearing those.” She demands. She was talking about your panties, they were just some plain panties you randomly picked from your drawer since you really didn't think about it. Tara goes through your drawers and finds you another pair. “You have to at least wear something like this!” she hands you the only laced panties you owned. “This actually matches the dress too!” She explains. “It shouldn't really matter since no nobody would look up my dress…” you sigh. “You will never know~” Tara whispers to herself.

Now that she is satisfied with what you are wearing, she sat you down on the couch to help you with makeup. You don't really use a lot of makeup normally and usually only apply lipstick if needed. But tonight she is going all out. Applying eyeliner and a shiny eyeshadow to make your beautiful eyes stand out even more. She spritz a very sweet strawberry scent perfume onto your neck and wrist, applying some shiny pink lip gloss to your lips. She tied your hair up in a bun, leaving just 2 long strands by your ears.

She is finished with her masterpiece. You were perfect. Not a single guy can retain themselves after glancing at you, even for a second. You looked in the mirror, even you blushed after staring at your reflection. Tara has, without a doubt, outdone herself just to make you the most irresistible.

You both hear a similar knocking at the door, it was Xavier right on cue to take you girls to the pub. Tara opens the door while you sit at the edge of the couch. Xavier, wearing his white jacket with the black lined pockets with a black shirt inside and his white slacks, you’ve seen him wear this before but something looks different. He looks hot. You tried to turn your face away so you could hide your blushing face. Xavier on the other hand, was stunned by how beautiful you looked and you could tell his face was bright red. He tried to look away to calm down but his eyes disobeyed him and just couldn't stop staring and running his eyes from your hair to your toes.

You unintentionally put your hand in the middle of your chest, trying to cover yourself from his burning gaze. Xavier finally turns his head and takes deep breaths to try and calm down. With your hand close to where your collar bone is, you feel kind of bare and though a necklace would help make it feel less exposed. Just as you start searching your accessories box, Tara nugs Xavier. He was nervous but walked towards you.

“If you don't mind, I would like you to have this.” He is holding on to a box that looks like it contains jewelry. He opens the box and inside was a necklace, 2 stars overlapping, one white and one light yellow, the same color or the dress you are wearing. The yellow star has a light glow almost as if he infused some of his Evol into it.

“That looks really pretty, it also looks expensive, I can't accept it.” He made a sad pout, “It’s actually not expensive, I won it at the arcade when they had an event going, I always thought it would match you.” almost as if he was trying to brainstorm a scenario so I would accept.

“It's perfect! Just what we need, just accept it Y/N!” Demands Tara.

“... Fine, thank you Xaiver, for the thoughtful gift.” you answered as you could feel burns on your face from blushing. Just as you reach out for the box, Tara suggests “Xavier you should help her put it on!” she has this grin on her face and you glare her down as if you were throwing daggers at her.

“Please turn around.” Xavier said as he pulled the necklace out of its container. “Hold still.” you turned with your back facing him and stared into the mirror. You could see his hands being a little shaky from nervousness, his face was red. His pinky accidentally grazed your shoulder and you let out a tiniest moan. Shocked by the sound that came out of my mouth, you quickly covered your mouth with both hands hoping that, somehow, Xavier who was directly behind you did not hear you. But oh he heard you alright, as he finished hooking the necklace together he also quickly covered his mouth and tried to direct his gaze somewhere, anywhere to cool off.

Tara, reading the situation in the room, “well since we are all ready, let's get going!” She says as she grabs our purse and puts her heels on. You shot yourself up from your seat and raced to the door, Xavier let out a quiet giggle and followed after you.

You slipped on one of your heels and as you attempted to do the same for the second, you lost your balance when Xavier lent you his forearm and you grabbed him to balance yourself. Through the arm of his jacket, you both can feel each other's body temperature raising. You quickly let go and head out the door. Xaiver is no longer blushing. He walks out and helps you shut your door shut and is just observing you, almost as if he made it his mission to watch and catch you if you stumble again.

The 3 of you venture in the direction of the pub, Xaiver who would normally follow behind you and Tara, decide to take the spot beside you instead. There was literally no room for anyone to walk past your company if they were to speed past on the sidewalk. Seeing this, Tara took a few quicker steps to lead in front of you and Xavier, letting him have all the space he needs. Even with Tara leaving you more space, Xaiver kept himself close to you. His hand had grazed yours a few times already from how close he was to you, your heart would skip a beat but you did not move away, almost as if you're trying to ask for more, or even hope he would do more than just accidentally brush your hand.

Arriving at the pub, the 3 of you entered the door, for a split second, all eyes were on you. You tried to follow Tara, Xavier inches behind you, as if he was ready to fend off all the predators any given second. You 3 managed to find a table, Tara and you sat down on one side and Xavier across from you. “I didn't think there would be this many people here!” Tara said, surprised. It seems like everyone who is single in Linkon city has gathered together here. Xavier, feeling uncomfortable about the idea of stepping away even for a second, asked if the 2 of you would like to get something to drink. “Just get us a bunch of candy shots!” Tara answered, he moves slowly as if he still doesn't want to leave your side as Tara shoos him away. As he walked towards the bar, you could hear girls squalling from different areas of the pub. Some from them eyeing Xavier, some from the person who just walked in the door.

You were chatting with Tara while waiting for Xavier's return when you heard a familiar voice, “So this is where you’re hiding!” You tilt your head and look up, it was Rafayel. This explains the screaming earlier, you thought to yourself. Rafayel, dressed in one of his many fancy suits, looks down and examines your attire for this evening. He couldn't help but feel flushed and had to sit down beside you right away and cross his legs as if he was scared someone would notice something growing in his pants.

Tara couldn't even register what happened as he sat down so quickly, she glanced over and saw that he's the famous artist Rafayel. Her expression was a mix of confusion and excitement, she wanted to ask how the 2 of you know each other but no words can come out of her mouth. “You must be Tara, my name is Rafayel, it's nice to finally meet you. Miss bodyguard here talks about you a lot.” Rafayel reached his hand out for a hand shake. Tara nervously complied.

Rafayel sits back and gives his attention back to you, “You look so beautiful I had a hard time recognizing you.” He runs his hand through the strand of hair that was left hanging by your ear. “That's a cute necklace.” His hand was about to reach for it but was grabbed in the forearm by Xavier, who just happens to return from getting the drinks, which he carried on his other hand. “I have that to her. You shouldn't get too close.” Xavier warned Rafayel. The two of them glared at each other, you could almost see the sparks fly as they were having a duel just from staring at each other so intensely. Tara interrupts and says, “Here, hand me the drinks.”

Xavier sat back down across from you, but keeping a close eye on Rafayel and twitches at every motion Rafayel makes no matter how small it may be.

Rafayel, annoyed by the thought that he gave you the necklace first, pulls out the one he also had prepared for you. “Well there's enough room for this.” Not even confirming if you would accept it or not, he took the choker and wrapped it around your neck.

Unlike the guys who have the two accessories, they actually complemented each other. The stars that Xavier gave hangs a little above your chest and the black choker, which had a fine silver chain, with a small purple fish, hangs just above your collarbone. Rafayel gives a satisfied smirk to Xavier, as if he was taunting him that they are both on the same level.

You sighed and accepted the fact that you will not be able to remove any of the necklaces without offending either of them. You look defeated and just when you thought the conflict was over, you see a blue snowflake, attached to a long chain, hanging in front of your eyes as the chain slowly lowers and rests on top of your cleavage. You jolted your head to confirm if it was who you suspected to be.

You were correct, Zayne stands towering over you, he placed the necklace down so gently and made sure your hair would not get caught in it. “A lively party you have going on here, mind if I join in?” He asks but sits himself down beside Xavier before an answer is even given.

“The more the merrier I guess!” Tara says, very much overwhelmed by the fact that every single person in the club has eyes on your table. The best looking guys and gals are all gathered here. The death glares from the other ladies feels so sharp as if you were getting pierced. “You must be Dr. Zayne, is it a crazy coincidence to see you here?” Zayne turned his head to you and smiled. “Y/N mentioned that you 2 would be here, so I decided to come along since I got some free time.”

There is this look on Tara's face, like has already seen all the events unfold. The. You remembered. Her fortune reading from last night that refused to tell you. You tried to confront her but she just smiles and smirks at you. She stands up, “I think we need more shots! I’ll be right back~” You secretly scream ‘don’t leave me!’ but she already vanished into the crowd.

The 3 beautiful men sitting with you, all knew of each other's existence but had never met face to face. They started to eye each other down from head to toe. All thought they were superior compared to the other 2.

You sat there awkwardly, looking down at your hands and twirled your thumbs as you waited for Tara to come back. You can feel the guys looking at you, like they can see through everything. You felt bare though you were naked and was just there for them to watch. You said “Fuck it” then grabbed a shot and swallowed it in one big gulp. You grabbed another and another, by the time Zayne grabs your hand to stop you, you jump as he grabs you and notices that you have drunk 5 of them.

“You need to slow down, pace yourself.” He has a serious look on his face, you put the shot down and try to pull your hand away but it won't budge. He will not let go unless you acknowledge what he just said. You gave him a nod “Use your words.” He demands. “I will…” He finally lets go, almost unwillingly. “They are just candy shots anyways, even a kid can't get drunk on those.” You said as you gave him a pout. Looking at how childish you just act, he scoffs. “Behave.”

Feeling a bit angry at Zayne’s remark, you started looking for Tara. “What is taking Tara so long… I better go help her.” You shot up from your seat, so quick that you got a little light headed and was about to collapse back down, Rafayel caught you and you ended up sitting on his lap. Xaiver grits his teeth and Zayne's tongue clicks. Both of their brows are so squashed together they could kill a fly. Rafayel took this opportunity to boost as he put his arms around your waist and gave you a hug, “Carefully now princess, you won't want to get yourself hurt.” As he smirks, the other two men glare at him to let go of you. “I'm perfectly fine!” As you try to get up and Rafayel lets you go as if he's won.

Trying to change the topic, you encouraged the 3 of them to take a shot each. “Why am I the only one drinking? You guys should try some too!” You picked up a shot as if you were about to feed Rafayel. Rafayel sitting with his hands clutching onto the seat beside his legs, opens his mouth slightly as if he wants you to feed him. You were complying and as the glass gets closer to Rafayel’s lips, a hand grabs yours and pulls you over as he sips the glass, his lips touching your finger, “It does taste like candy, very sweet.” Xavier licked his lips and smiled as he celebrated his small victory. Rafayel was furious, you could see flames in his eyes as if his Evol was activated. “Stop.” A cold stern voice called out and made all 3 of you freeze. Zayne shocked all of you. The area almost felt like it got colder all of a sudden. Everyone sad back down nicely like well behaved children.

He reached and distributed a shot to Rafayel and one to Xaiver. He held a glass for himself, raised it in the middle as if he was waiting for the other 2 to meet his glass. “Here's to Y/N, may she find someone she deserves.” Rafayel and Xavier took it as a challenge and clinged his glass. They all took the shot together. You were starting to get a light buzz so you were kind of out of it and didn't understand what they were doing. “Hey, I want to drink too!” You grabbed the last glass on the table and gobbled it down.

It's clear that you are getting drunk. Out of the 10 shots ordered, you downed 6. Of course you were drunk. “I think it's time for you to go home.” Zayne said. “But how about Tara?” You asked. Zayne then points to a corner, you see Tara hitting it off with a cute looking guy, so into him that she's already forgotten you guys were waiting for her. You were about to walk over to her to let her know you are about to leave as you feel a light tug on your arm, “Read the room, won't you? She clearly doesn't want to be bothered right now.” says Rafayel.

“I could just give her a text and let her know we will be leaving soon?” Xavier suggests. The 2 others nod of approval, he pulls his phone out and starts texting. “Done. Shall we get going then?” Xavier extended his hand to help you get up from your seat. “Wait a damn minute.” Rafayel interrupts and yanks your hand away from him. “I was planning to walk her home.”

Xavier looks coldly at Rafayel, he just lets out a grunt.

“In any case, let's just get out of here first” Zayne suggests, “She is starting to attract unwanted attention.” Rafayel and Xaiver did not notice you while they were arguing… You are feeling warm from all the alcohol you drank, and start to fan yourself. Your hand clutches the dress, almost as if you were about to pull on it a bit so you could get some cold air inside your dress. Zayne takes off his coat and plops it on you to shield you from the unwelcome gaze.

Rafayel and Xaiver stand up, Zayne is now in front of you, pulls you up and turns you facing the door, holding onto one of your hands and the other resting on your waist. The ladies all glared in jealousy as if it looked like you were a princess, and your knights were escorting you to where you needed to be. You were too out of it to notice how much attention the lot of you were attracting.

Once you got outside, Zayne was walking you to his car, opened the door and was about to get you inside the passenger seat when Rafayel slammed the door shut. “Excuse me, where do you think you are taking her?” he asked furiously. “I’m taking her home. Now move aside.” Zayne answered. “Are you serious? You had alcohol! I wont allow her to be in your car if you're under the influence.” It was obviously an dumb excuse just to have you not go with Zayne. “Fine, I guess you have a point.” Zayne actually agreed with Rafayel, he would not be able to live with himself if anything were to happen to you, even if there was a slight chance of putting you in danger, he will avoid it. “I will just walk her home. You two can leave.” he demands. “Oh Hell no. I’m coming with, who knows what you would do to her while she is drunk.” Rafayal argued.

“I’m not drunk,” you interrupt, “And Zayne is not that type of person.” Zayne looks at you with such a gentle smile, if you weren’t so drunk, you would have melted by the sight of that. “He will never do anything to me.” Zayne twitched for a second, as if he felt guilty like he had indecent thoughts on his mind. “Can we please get going? I want to change out of this dress…” you start tugging the top again. Zayne covers you up and turns his head away from you so you could not see him blush.

“Let's get going then.” Zayne was trying to walk you to the direction of your place. “Hey, don’t leave me here!” Rafayel whines and follows closely on your other side. Xavier was quiet but he followed behind. “Stop following us.” as Rafayel demands Xavier. “... I live in the same building, this is how I get home.” “Tsk” Rafayel was annoyed how close the two of you live, he is jealous of Xavier that he always gets to see you, anytime he wants.

The 4 of you all walked together, Zayne on your left and Rafayel to your right and Xavier following closely behind. You thought the best way to break the long silence is for you to hum a song, you're not sure what song it was but you were able to put a gentle smile on all their faces. They all enjoyed the sweet melody as the group got closer and closer to their destination.

As you're arriving, Xavier speeds up from behind to get the door open. And to help you inside. Zayne and Rafayel are still following as everyone follows you and Xavier back to your apartment. You got to your door, tried grabbing the door handle as you stumbled around, Xavier took your hand and helped guide your thumb to the fingerprint scanner to get the door unlocked.

Rafayel rushes inside and explores your apartment, Zayne follows after him and sits himself down at the couch. Xaiver didn't want to leave the two of them alone with you and decided to invite himself in as well. You were too drunk to argue so you just let all of them inside. Rafayel thought your place was neat and tidy and liked that you've placed the plushies that he won for you on your bed. Looking at how dazed you look, while being in your beautiful dress and make up, he pulled his phone out and snapped a few pictures of you. Zayne saw him and decided that was actually a good idea, he doesn't get to see you dressed up often and wants to freeze this moment. Xavier also pulled his phone out to take pictures of you, you looking a bit confused but didn't have enough energy to fight back, you just let them do their thing. It was like a photoshoot just for you, they would ask you to do certain poses and you would just comply.

They had fun and were able to take a lot of good shots of you. They have enough material to do whatever they need. With everyone finished taking photos of you, Rafayel changed to a more serious tone. “Do you guys mind leaving? There is something I've been wanting to tell her, Alone.” “Well you are not the only one.” Zayne said calmly. “We all know, no one will back down from this matter.” Xavier agrees.

Rafayel grabs you by your shoulder, and asks you wholeheartedly, “Y/N, do you like me?” You, still in your drunken state, put one hand on his beautiful face, look him in the eyes and nodded. Rafayel was overwhelmed with happiness and turned to Zayne and Xavier, “See! She likes me too, now please leave us. I want to spend time alone with my darling.” Zayne disagreed, he took your hand and asked “Well then, Y/N, do you like me?” you looked at Zayne, and you nodded your head again. “And how about Xavier over there, do you like him too?” Zayne asks. You look over to the direction of where Xavier is standing and give him a sweet smile and nod your head once again.

You are slowly sobering up and realize that you have just confessed to all three of them. You feel so embarrassed, you tried to hide behind your arms and was wishing that this is all just a dream. Tears started rolling down your eyes, as you felt you have betrayed their love for you and you cannot decide who you like the most. You started sobbing. The lads' hearts were aching from watching you cry, you thought you did the one thing you said you would never do. Ruin the current relationships with all three of them. And you felt you did exactly that.

You said quietly under your breath, “please leave.” They all weren't sure who you were referring to and told each other to leave so they, themselves, could stay and watch over you. “All of you.” They are now frozen to their spot. All staring at you. All wanting to cheer you up. You looked up with a painful smile on your face and said, “I'm sorry, I've ruined everything, please leave me. I don't know how I should face the 3 of you.”

You were trying to reject your feelings for all 3 of them. Since you thought it unfair for them to have feelings for you while you can't even decide who you loved most. You know if the situation were too flip, you would not be happy with them not being able to tell which girl they love more.

“What if we said we didn't care who you love more, as long as you don't push me away, I would rather share you than not have you at all…” Xavier said Sadly as he walked over and grabbed your hand and put it to his cheeks. “I… I can't do that! That is not fair for you guys!” You claimed. “Xavier is right, I cannot imagine my life without you. Not anymore. I need you and if I have to share you then so be it.” Rafayel said it very seriously. His deep voice was the confirmation. “But it is not right!” Zayne tries to Sheesh you. “As long as we know that we are in your heart and that is enough. Or is the idea of not being able to see us anymore fine for you?” You flinched, staring at them with a half blanked face, your tears started to burst out uncontrollably. “No! I don't ever want that!” You yelled.

The 3 men surround you, trying to calm you down. Seeing you cry like this breaks their hearts. They are used to you being happy all the time, make silly faces, laugh at the most silly jokes. Not like this, they don't know what to do.

Unable to control his own emotions anymore, Xavier pulled you into his chest, both arms wrapped tightly around you. For a second you felt peaceful. In one swift movement he had your head up and landed a deep passionate kiss on your lips. The others could only watch as they could not have predicted what he was about to do. Xavier, still holding you tightly and kissing you, you let out a soft moan as you were feeling dazed and trying to catch your breath. When he finally gets his senses back, he slowly lets go of you. He used the back of his hand to wipe the drool that slipped out the corner of his mouth. “You taste much sweeter than the candy shot just now.”

You turned your head away from him after hearing such embarrassed words and the exchange of your kiss. You felt flushed and tried to hide your face in your arms. “Th-that was my first kiss!” You claimed. Rafayel is now looking down at your semi concealed face, as when you turned away from Xaiver, you are now facing him. “I guess second is better than none at all.” He scoffs and grabs your wrist and pulls your arms away from your face and leans in to give you a kiss on your lips.

You tried to push yourself away from him, but with his hands pulling you back and whispering without leaving your lips. “Don’t resist.” His blue-pink eyes stare so wantonly into yours’, you twitched and stopped resisting. Once he felt you were no longer pulling away, he tried something more daring. He slowly slips his tongue into your mouth. The weird sensation shocked you and you opened your eyes wide. You are flustered but you did not pull away, you even respond to Rafayel with your tongue swirling harmoniously with his. He releases your wrists and puts his hands on your cheeks, and slowly pushes you away. You almost didn't want him to stop. He looked straight into your dreamy eyes and said. “Now that's a good girl.”

You've been kissed twice the same night, not to mention from different men. But you can't feel but want more. As if something lustful was released from within you without your knowing. Zayne sees this, he walks behind you, puts his one hand on your shoulder and the other on your neck, slowly raising to tilt your chin up. He doesn't say or do anything, other than moving his thumb up and down gently as if he was waiting for you to tell him what he should do next.

You were panting lightly and called out, “Zayne……” he looks down at your wanting eyes and replies “Yes princess? If you need something, you have to tell me.” “I wa-want you to kiss me…” you felt so embarrassed asking Zayne when you've been passionately kissing other guys just now. You feel your eyes getting teary, overflowing as the tears roll out the corner of your eyes. “As you wish, my love.” He bends down, his palm is now resting on your cheek and his long fingers still under your chin. He plants his lips onto yours, his nose brushing your chin, he bites your lower lip gently then sucks with enough pressure to get moaning and panting.

You were sitting but could feel your legs giving in. When Zayne's lips finally left you, you felt fulfilled, satisfied. You fall to your side and Xavier catches you in his arms. Everything feels hazy and you feel the sleepiness catching up to you. You want to open your eyes but you just can't no matter how hard you try. Xavier carried you to your bed. You have already drifted into dreamland while the 3 of them sit close by and just watched you sleep peacefully, they could see you smiling. Maybe you are having a good dream with them being by your side as well. The 3 of them each find a comfortable spot close to you and to spend the night. Rafayel lay in front of you and whispered, “Good night my princess, we have a long road ahead of us. You better be prepared.” As he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

#love and deepspace fanfiction #qi yu #shen xinghui #xavier lads #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #li shen

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bunniesanddeer · 2 hours

Text

Hate (Alastor x Reader)

Hey, awkward haha. This is only my second attempt at smut, inspired by the lovely @hazelfoureyes. (If you want me to untag you, I totally will).

Obviously minors, DNI.

I'm normally not comfortable with this stuff, mostly because I don't have a ton of experience writing it. I decided, that for practice, I would try writing something where the reader doesn't like Alastor. I figured a dynamic that was different from what I normally wrote might help me learn how to get better at writing smut. So here is something inspired by the best smut writer, about a dynamic I've never written :) Also, my first time writing PiV, so sorry if it sucks :) be gentle with me, lol

Hate

Pairing: Alastor X Reader

Warnings: Reader HATES Alastor, Enemies to enemies with benefits, heat, smut, 18+, Alastor speaks French, praise kink, fingers, PIV.

Word Count: 3,818

You could feel it building. The heat rising and coursing through every inch of you. The way it settled in your core, at the pit of your belly. The twinge and ache in your chest. The pressure behind your eyes. The delirium in which you processed it. It was as much as you could take, and you could feel the tension building.

You hated him. You hated him with every inch of yourself. It was a hate that suffused your bones, that dripped through clenched teeth, and twitched tightly gripped hands. You hated him entirely. It wasn’t just the way he talked, although the pompous air and the two-faced words he spoke with angered you to no end. It wasn’t the way he dressed, despite the fact that it was an out of style suit that he preferred, that pissed you off at even a glance. You knew it wasn’t the way he looked, because as much as you hated the sight of him, he was an admittedly handsome demon and had likely been a handsome man; he had dark skin, and fluffy red hair that framed his sharp face nicely. No, it was something deep inside, that you couldn’t quite explain, that made you despise him so, so much.

Alastor was not a good man. No, it wasn’t exactly the best way to judge those that were already in Hell, but among the many denizens you’ve met, he was surely high on the list of fucked up crimes. Sure, he claimed he had a moral code that he strictly followed, but if no one knew what it was, what the hell was it good for? Maybe it was his hypocrisy. The way he held himself and looked at others with such disdain, and yet he was just as lowly and weak and corrupted as everyone else.

Alastor was a hypocrite, for sure, but maybe so were you. How else could you explain this? Who were you to judge him, for all his faults, when yours were staring you in the face?

Your thighs ached. You could feel the pain growing, and you knew it would only get worse. You had been around him long enough now, that the cursed body you had been gifted had caught on, and now you would suffer for something you never agreed to.

It hadn’t even been a thought, when you moved into the hotel. You hadn’t thought about the fact that your form and his might affect one another. How were you supposed to know it was a possibility when you’d never run across another deer demon, let alone a Buck? Hell, quite frankly, hell. Each new, fucked up thing, you found brought you greater misery. Now your own body was a prison. You’d take having periods again, if it meant you didn’t have this terrible thing.

When it had first started, only days before, you had sought out Angel Dust, who had laughed at you.

“Ha! Are you pulling my chain, toots?” He had asked, his tone filled with bewilderment. “C’mon, you gotta know! You’ve been here for years!”

But you didn’t know, and when he caught the anxious look growing on your face, and the fidgeting of your hands, he sighed.

“Shit, ya don’t know, do ya?” Angel put one of his many arms around your shoulders, and guided you to his room. He settled you on a plush bean bag, and offered you something to drink. You shook your head, anxiety making your face tingle. “Suit yourself, babes.” He sighed, and scratched the back of his head. “It’s called heat. Some folks don’t got one, some do frequently, and some are seasonal. For folks who got it seasonally, it tends to, uh, depend on whether or not ya got someone, you know, compatible.”

You cocked your head as you scratched and pulled at a stray thread on your pants.

“You gotta find someone with a similar build to yours. If you ain’t ever seen another deer, it might be why it hasn’t come up, babes.” His words clicked in your head, and your face paled.

“No,” you said, chest frozen at the thought. It hurt suddenly. Your hands tingled, and your chest hurt. What was happening? “No, no, no. Absolutely not, please tell me it’s not because-”

Angel winced, and gave you a pitying look. “Yeah, it’s cuz of Al, doll.”

You gasped for breath, and you shook. You couldn’t think clearly. Everyone knew how much you and Alastor hated each other. You made it clear, and his constant badgering and rude behavior seemed to solidify it for everyone that it was mutual. But for your body to betray you, for him? This felt like the ultimate Hell.

When you started crying, Angel had soothed you to the best of his ability. The next morning, after falling asleep in Angel’s many arms, he gave you an unopened toy, and told you to gather supplies. Enough to hoard up in your room for a few days. He promised to run interference for you, and sent you on your way.

So here you were, writhing on your bed, on day three. Your sense of smell was increased, and your ears twitched at each subtle sound in the hall. You had tried putting on some mindless show so you could stop focusing on all these extra sensations, but it didn’t help. The extra voices, all not his, sent your head spinning. You had turned it off after only half-an-hour.

Your thighs rubbed together, and sweat dripped down the back of your neck. You pushed your face into a pillow and groaned. You had avoided it thus far, but it might be time to break out the little vibrator.

Eventually, you sat up in your bed, ignoring the blankets that you had pushed to the floor the day before. You huffed, and reached for the toy that had been plugged in the night before. You gave the strange pink toy a squeeze, the soft silicone giving just slightly, and made your way to the bathroom. While you washed the toy, you tried to convince yourself that this was all you needed. One good vibe session, and you’d be back to normal. You were wrong.

It was hot. The whole room was unbearably hot. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and your clothes had long found themselves on the floor. You had needed to recharge the toy one already, and it had only been a day. The water in the shower couldn’t get cold enough to cool you down. Your core ached, constantly, and your thighs had a near constant mess of slick spread along them. You were delirious with the unfathomable sensations you had been unwillingly wrapped in.

With a cry, and your soaked fingers at your clit, you orgasmed, weakly. The release wasn’t nearly enough. You twisted, and bit down on your pillow as you cried, just a little. This was terrible. And all because of Alastor. You thought of his nasty jokes, and how cruel he could be. You thought on sharp eyes, and sharper smiles. You thought of his claws, and a soft grasp around your throat, slowly tightening as a normally clear voice grunted and huffed. You pulled your vibrator out again. With something in you snapping, you kept thinking of his slim hips, and broad chest. The way his hands twitched and grasped at his microphone. His leer and the way his eyes followed you when you walked into the room. His laugh, when he was angry with someone. The way he had shown you to handle a weapon before you fought the angels. The angry look he gave you when you yelled at him weeks later. You thought of his hands wrapping around your wrist, and his chest hovering over your back as lithe hips pressed against your ass.

You came with another cry, the white-hot feeling surging through you.

Shame filled you up. You were a hypocrite too, it seemed.

It was dark. Your head was fuzzy, and you couldn’t place the time of day. You sat up, the room spinning as your heart settled. Something smelled good. Your eyes fluttered as you took it in. After a moment, you flicked your eyes around the room, and in the chair by the window was a figure.

You screeched. It wasn’t terribly loudly, but it made the figure twitch. You dove to the lamp by your beside, and quickly flicked it on. As the warm light filled the room, it flashed across his eyes, and the look alone made you gasp.

“Alastor?” You whispered. What the fuck was he doing in your room?

“Oh, ma bichette.” His voice was rougher than normal, something dark tinging it.

“What the fuck are you doing in my room, Alastor?” Despite the yearning in the pit of your belly, and the aching you had suffered through for days, this was beyond not okay. Alarm bells were ringing in the back of your head, and you couldn’t fathom why he would break into your room.

“Oh, ma chérie. I have felt that burn for days, and in your absence it grew worse.” His head cocked, and his eyes flashed in the light again. His hair looked strange, as if it was nearly damp. Something in his smile was unhinged. Your chest tugged and ached, and you had to fight to focus through the tingling in your fingers. “I could smell you, and this ache, this hunger I have never known, only grew worse.”

He stood from the chair, and you leaned back on your hands, ready to twist and run if you needed to. His tall form drew your gaze up his shape. Your mind struggled to focus on any one thing, and it was hard to hold onto your anger, like this.

“It is impolite, to come in like this, but I need. And I can tell you do too.” He walked towards you, and leaned over you. Your conflicting feelings about the situation caused you to hesitate. You leaned back, your back meeting your sheets, and your knees bent, as if your legs could stop him from advancing. You were right, in that they would not, because a moment later, he was crawling over you, forearms flat on either side of your head. “I will leave if you ask it of me, my dear. But I ask that you let me pleasure you,” he whispered to you. His sharp teeth clacked as he glanced over your form. “Let me relieve us of this.”

One of his hands brushed some of your damp hair from your forehead, and the look on his face nearly flat lined you. He looked so strange. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was. His eyes were soft and gazing at you with some unknown feeling gleaming in them. His mouth was slanted, and his teeth glittering in the low light — Your train of thought halted as you realized he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t smiling. What the fuck? What could have done that? Your eyes widened, and you could only stare as his thumb strayed to your lips and tugged at the bottom lip.

“What do you say, my dear?” His gaze caught yours, and you could barely breathe.

“I hate you,” you said. “I hate you, especially for this.”

Something flickered across his face, but he didn’t pull away. “I know, mon cœur. You have many reasons, but this isn’t about that. I merely wish to ease our suffering. Your suffering.”

You wanted to cry. How fucking dare he? How dare he be so terrible on a daily basis, and yet so kind now? You wanted to scream. You could feel tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. It felt so unfair. But you were desperate, and he was offering to touch you, something he didn’t like to do. You knew his reputation, his dislike and disregard for things of a sexual nature, and yet here he was, crossing that boundary with you. (Something in you hurt, knowing that someone who hated him would be crossing that line with him, not someone who loved him or cared for him in any capacity. Maybe that was his Hell).

“Fine. Fuck. Fine. We can fuck, just, I don’t know. No kissing. And I uh, I’d like to be on my belly.” You didn’t want to look at him. (You knew it was the thought of him that got you off so many times, but the idea of really seeing him, bothered you in a way you couldn’t explain). His face twitched, but he nodded.

“I understand, ma bichette.” He pet your hair, again, and rubbed a thumb across your forehead, and he took a deep breath in. “Alright, dear, ass up.”

Your eyes widened, and you gulped down the little moisture in your mouth. With deep, steady breaths, you turned over, maneuvering on the bed with twitching limbs. You pressed your chest against the bed, aching at the tenderness in your breasts. Your hands held onto the sheets tightly, and your ears twitched and pressed flat against your skull. Your tail sprung straight, and you could hear Alastor let out a breathy chuckle. The sound of clasps and zippers coming undone made your tail wag, and you could feel one of his hands swat at the fluffy bundle of fur at the base of your spine.

“Excited, dearest?” His voice carried in the quiet room. You couldn’t reply with words. You were so conflicted. You hated him acutely, and yet here you were. Something akin to giddiness was building in your chest. Your tail wagged harder. You hoped he didn’t take it as an answer.

You could feel his warm body lean over yours a moment later. He was so much bigger than you. It was clear with how wide his shoulders were, and how his long legs cradled yours easily. One of his forearms settled beside yours, and his face rested in the crux of your shoulder. Sharp teeth lightly grazed the skin there, while hot breath fanned over your back. Soft touches on the swell of your ass, creeping over your hip, and then cupping your mound softly. (How could he be so soft in this, and yet so harsh? Your mind was buzzing so loud).

“Stop thinking, mon trésor.” His finger grazed your clit, and your mind went quiet. Oh, you had forgotten what it was like being touched by someone else.

His fingers moved with focus from there, and your legs twitched. You huffed, and closed your eyes, letting the sensations fall over you. Soon, with the gentle touches getting firmer, and more precise, your thighs were getting slick. Small sounds left your clenched teeth. (It felt good, but the petty part of you wanted to deprive him of the satisfaction of your noises).

Alastor’s hand moved, and suddenly one finger was sinking into your heat. You groaned, and your back arched.

“Oh, continuer ma chère. Je veux vous entendre.” His voice is coarse, but his finger curls, and you can’t even try and translate his whispered words. Your body trembles as he slips in a second finger. His thumb catches your clit, and your mind is a muddled mess. Your resolve to remain silent shatters, and your voice leaves your throat with no control.

“Oh, Alastor,” you say. Your eyes flutter, and you clench down on his fingers. He grunts, and thrusts them a little harder.

“When you are ready, my dear, come for me. And then we can move on to the main event.” His words attempt for nonchalance, but the way he struggles to get them out has you internally laughing. It stops when his erection, clear as day, rubs against your ass. Your hips twitch, pressing against him. “Oh,” he grunts. “Not yet dear.”

He twists his hand, and presses his chest against your back. His hand on the bed grabs at yours, and he intertwines your fingers. Teeth scratch at your shoulder, and the sudden flood of sensory information sends you over a line you didn’t know you were near.

“Ah! Alastor,” You cry, and fire flicker up your core, and in your veins. You clench hard on his fingers, and his ever present static swells in response. (Although, with how much your hands and face tingle, it could be in your head).

“Oh, yes.” His head settles against your shoulder blade, and his hand slowly pulls from your core. His wet fingers graze your hip with soft touches, and the hand holding yours rubs softly. “So good for me, dearest. My doe. So good.”

Your chest aches, and you want to cry. How fucking dare he hit the fucking nail on the head? Your breath hitches, and you have to work to not cry.

“Oh, my dear.” He sits up, and the loss of his heat nearly makes your tears fall. You can’t fathom why you’re suddenly emotional, but it won’t waver in its intensity. His face settles in your sight line. “Are you alright, dear?” His lets go of yours, and cradles the back of your head. “Did I hurt you?”

You want to cry. Fuck him. Fuck this. How dare he. A tear slips before you can stop it, and his eyes narrow, something nearly concerned looking, crossing his expression.

“No. Fuck you. I hate you,” you can barely finish the sentence before a hint of a sob leaves you. “I hate you. I hate you. Just fuck me already.”

His brows furrow, and the red of his eyes glints as he manages a nod. “If that’s what you desire,” he says, and then he’s behind you again.

His hands are on your hips, and you hear skin against skin, and then he’s gently prodding you with the thick head of his cock. Alastor presses his cock into your soaking entrance slowly, and you worry about his size for a moment. But then, he’s pressing more firmly, and your thoughts halt. Electricity is shooting up your spine as he sinks into you. You internally thank him fro prepping you with his fingers, because he’s packing more than you would have expected.

A sharp breath from him, and then his hips snap against yours. “Hah, sorry, dearest.” His breaths are rough, and you feel his hands squeeze your hips hard. “I had intended to go slower, but this is-” He bends over you again, and his chest is against your back, and he’s grasping at the sheet with you. “You’re so good, my dear. Better than I could have ever-”

His hips snap again, and your body jolts. You gasp as he presses his hips against your ass, pushing as far he can get. You feel so tight. Everything is hot, and all you can think about is him. Your tail brushes against his belly as he starts to set a rhythm. All the pain you had been in, and you were starting to feel like it might have been worth it.

One of his hand wraps around your waist, over your breasts, and his hand settles on your neck. “Let me know if you wish me to stop,” he huffs, and then he’s squeezing your throat, just slightly.

You mewl, and roll your hips against him. “Oh yes. Little doe. You are so good for me.” The way he says makes you moan again, and you huff as he squeezes your throat again.

The pace he sets is just under what you need, and it makes you hate him more. Part of you knows what he’s waiting for, and you dread it. It’s within mere moments, though, that you cave, and open your mouth.

“Alastor, please,” you say. Your voice is weak, with how hard it is to take a full breath. Your body is pressed into the mattress, and with the stinging breaths you attempt to take with each thrust, and the light squeeze of his hand around your neck, you struggle.

His hand loosens, as if he can read your mind. “What is it, dearest,” He asks. “Use your words. I know you can.”

You sigh, and nearly yell at him when his hips stop, giving you time to speak up. You roll your eyes, and nearly beg, “Please, just a little faster.”

You can hear the smile when he responds, “Of course, my doe,” and then his pace starts up again, faster, and just a tinge harder, than it had been before. Your toes curl and your hands grasp at the sheets.

That heat was growing again, low in your belly. Your thighs were aching, and your back was as arched as you could get it. Sweat was dripping down your back, and all you could think is that you wanted more.

“Alastor,” you moaned, and grunted back. As you clenched down on his cock, the heat grew, and you could feel tight wires wrapping around your core.

“Oh, ma biche, tu es si bonne pour moi.” His fingers found your clit again, and he rubbed with focus. “So good. You are so good.” He kept repeating it like a mantra, and you couldn’t handle it anymore.

The wires snapped, and your body went white-hot. You couldn’t see, and you stopped being able to hear more than garbled syllables and the rhythmic thumping of the headboard against the wall.

Your body went taut, and you clenched down. You could hear his voice grow sharp and ragged, but nothing more as he kept thrusting.

When you finally settled enough to focus your hearing, you could hear Alastor muttering to himself. And then he went still. “Do you want me to leave my seed in you, or no?”

Your breath caught. Fuck, you hadn’t thought about that. Without thinking too much, you whispered, “In.”

You watch one of his hands tighten on the bed, sharp claws piercing the fabric. (you’d make him replace it for sure, jerk). Without much warning, he starts his pace again, his thrusts nearly brutal. His grunts and murmuring start up again, and it’s only moments before you feel him twitch, and then heat filling you. He curls around you, head pressed between your shoulder blades.

You stay sitting like that for a few minutes, before he slowly extricates himself from around you and pulls his cock from your slick entrance. When he returns with a warm, damp rag and cleans you up, you refuse to make eye contact. When he picks up the dirty sheets, and bring you clean ones, you stare at the floor. It’s when he brings you water, and tucks you into bed, you finally look up at him.

“I hate you,” you tell him.

His face is neutral, and he nods. “I know.”

“This changes nothing,” you say.

And he nods, letting his normal smile pop back on his face. “I know.”

Hi, please let me know how this was? I'm really awkward about this kind of stuff, and it makes me a tiny bit anxious. Anyways! I hope you liked it. Should I add an 18+ taglist? Also, I have a few asks and stuff that will be posted soon. House hunting has been going terribly. The market is awful, and I am just sad :(

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