#things you promised were true and turned out to be more lies

[maryangelex]

Home is the Feeling of You

John Price x Reader

Summary: You’re Price’s fiancé back home and it’s been months since you’ve seen him. He’s been on deployment and days have been getting lonelier the more days pass. Until you get home one night from work to a more than pleasant surprise.

Warnings/Tags: civilian!reader, fiancé!reader, creampie, domesticity, domestic!john price, fluff to smut, praise kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, masturbation, (light?) breeding kink, phone sex, spit as lube

A/N: so here’s the anticipated civilian!reader fic! I’m just a simp for this man being a husband or anything domestic about him. Enjoy!!! ;)

You were exhausted from work; feet swollen from being in heels all day, muscles tense and eyes burning with the desperate need to be closed and drifted to sleep. You were on your way home but weren’t too eager to get there, if you were being honest.

Your home felt cold and empty despite your best efforts to make it a cozy abode for you and John. But it was hard to feel the slightest bit of warmth in it whenever he was deployed. He had been gone for months now, you had lost count of how many since every day that passed without him felt like an eternity.

You two tried to keep in contact as much as possible. He called you nearly every day, as best he could; sometimes the calls would last seconds other times you managed to get half an hour with him to vent and catch up.

You felt bad every time you complained about your day, though, since he was in quite literally a battlefield most of his time. But he insisted you told him everything, he loved hearing you complain about mundane things, hearing about what shitty thing your boss did, or about your coworker’s crummy love life. It made him feel closer to you and gave him a sense of home to listen to you talk about your day.

When John would say things like “I miss you, love, I’ll be home in no time” or “I can’t wait to kiss that pretty face”, you couldn’t help but feel a fire kindling in your chest. It made you feel warm inside to hear him say that because you knew it was true; John wasn’t a man who lied, he carried his heart on his sleeve for you.

And when he wasn’t being tender and sweet, telling you how much he missed you and loved you, he’d let you know how desperate and needy he was for you. He’d tell you how the sound of your voice alone made his cock twitch in his pants. How the hand that wasn’t holding the phone had slid down his trousers, slowly stroking himself through his boxers.

You’d press your thighs together, listening to his husky voice become almost a whisper on the phone. His breath audible through the phone, letting out soft needy whimpers and promises about what he’d do to you the second he got home. You’d let yourself indulge and return the favor to him by telling him how you were wearing whatever lacy panties he’d bought you and how you were writhing in your shared bed as you pleasured yourself to the sound of his voice.

Still, those steamy calls between the two of you could only do so much for you. It only momentarily veered the loneliness away. You wanted him in your bed with you, wanted to have him watch football games on the couch, wanted to have date nights with him every Friday again, wanted his presence to warm up your flat and make it a home.

Once you got home the sun had already set. You took the stairs up to your and John’s shared flat, and with a sigh of relief, you pushed the door open. You walked in and closed the door behind you, dropped your keys on the tablet at your entryway, and stepped out of your shoes. Your feet touched the cold floor under you and the sensation drew another content sigh out of you.

You noticed the light in your kitchen was turned on. Maybe you left it on this morning after making breakfast without noticing, you were in a rush after all. As you approached the kitchen you heard the sound of something sizzling in a pan. Your heart skipped a beat, a smile creeping on your face at the realization that John was home. When you saw him there, standing in front of the stove with his back to you, you were filled with glee. Your stomach fluttered like it did the first time you two met when you bumped into him at that bookstore and almost spilled coffee all over him. When you first locked eyes with his, those glimmering blue pools.

He glanced over his shoulder and flashed you a smile before turning back to whatever he was cooking so diligently.

“Welcome home, hun” he greeted “‘m makin’ us dinner since I knew you’d be beat from work”

You walked up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist. Your lips pressed against the muscles on his back, peppering kisses on the center of his spine, his shoulders, the nape of his neck. Your arms travelled up the front of his body, feeling the muscles on his chest and abdomen shift as he moved his hands whilst he cooked. You hugged him tightly, squeezing him as if to make sure he was really standing in front of you. As if the tighter you squeezed the more he materialized in your apartment.

“Not too tight, love, you’re squeezin’ the wind outta me,” he chuckled.

“I just missed you so much, John,” you confessed with another tender kiss to his back.

He hummed in acknowledgment with a smile still stuck to his face. He plated the meal for both of you; salmon and stir fried veggies. You released your arms from him painstakingly and grabbed a couple of wine glasses to pair with your meal. John took your plates to the couch while you brought the wine.

You collapsed down on the couch beside John, releasing another heavy sigh as your muscles sank on the plush material. John had set the plates on your coffee table along with the glasses, and handed you a fork whilst encouraging you with a gentle chuckle and a “Eat up, love.”

You sat up on the couch, turning to look at him. Both of your hands rose up to him and cupped his face lovingly. You looked deeply into his eyes; those eyes that always sucked you in, made you feel safe and loved. He looked at you with so much adoration, like he was silently telling you how happy he was to see you, be home with you. You leaned forward and clashed your lips with his, not pulling back for a minute and savoring the sensation of his lips against yours, how his mustache and beard scratched your soft skin. The two of you held your breath as you held each other with your lips, feeling as if pulling back was not an option. When you finally released each other, you sighed, your foreheads leaning against each other as you rubbed the tip of your nose against his.

“Missed you, hon,” he whispered, giving you another kiss, this one more chaste and playful than the prior one. His hand patted your knee, “C’mon, food’s gettin’ cold and I’m bloody starvin’. ”

You giggled as you both dug in. One of the things you missed the most about John was how well he cooked, his meals were hearty and comforting just like his presence. The two of you enjoyed your food as you caught up with him on everything you hadn’t mentioned in your calls these past few months. John spoke much less given the nature of his work, he much more enjoyed to listen to you, and he did so attentively.

At the end of your meal there was only the wine to sip on as you enjoyed each other’s company. The TV played quietly in the background. You were laying on the couch, your torso reclining on the arm rest as your feet sat on John’s lap next to you. He caressed the smooth skin of your legs with his big hands, gently squeezing the muscles on them every now and then. You nudged him with your foot, silently instructing him to keep up the massage. He took your foot in his hands, they engulfed him completely as he squeezed and rubbed them with his palms and thumbs. You winced at the feeling, making him stop and look at you.

“That alright?” He inquired, you gave him a nod in response.

“Just sore from standing all day”

“Let me take care of it” he grinned, his hands returning to work on your feet. His touch traveled up your leg, arriving at your calf, rubbing the tender muscle and eliciting a groan from you. John was enjoying the sounds he drew from you. His hands were getting more adventurous, sliding up past your knee and kneading at your thick thighs now. You gave him a grin and a cheeky look; he returned it.

“What’s crossing your dirty little mind, sweet girl?”

“Same thing as yours, hun”

His hands rubbed your thighs, putting pressure on them as he grabbed and massaged the bulks of muscle and flesh. You bit your lip as his hand wandered under your skirt. He was enjoying himself seeing your expressions shift and your cheeks flush red as he touched you. You reached one hand over to caress his forearm with your finger tips as he slid his hand further up your inner thigh, and your legs spread slightly as a quiet invitation.

“Needy girl,” he teased.

“C’mere already, John, will ya?” you quipped. John complied with your demand, as if waiting to hear you say it, like he needed your permission. He shifted on the couch, moving the leg in his hands to his other side so he could sit between your legs. He grabbed both of your thighs on each side, lightly sliding you down so you were flush with him. You could feel the bulge in his jeans pressing against your clothed heat. You teased him by rolling your hips against him a bit, to which he responded to with a groan and a squeeze to your thighs.

He bunched up your skirt to reveal your panties. His fingertips tracing the soft material over your hips and pelvis. Your hands rested on each side of your head as you watched him with lustful eyes. Now his hands were grazing over your mons, lowering to the crotch of your panties that was already saturated with your juices. His touch made you blush even more, you were embarrassed by how easily the man could make you wet, as if it was the first time he’s ever touched you.

“My girl’s so eager, look at how wet you are” he grinned, his voice low and sultry. He grabbed the hem of your panties and tugged them down, slowly sliding them past your legs and then discarding them. One of his hands palmed your exposed cunt. You wiggled your hips against it and let out a needy whimper.

“John, don’t tease me” you scolded him in a soft voice, more desperation than anything.

He hummed at your comment, sliding his fingers up and down your folds, while his other hand went back to massaging your thigh. He observed as his fingers worked between your folds, his eyes fixated on your glistening pussy. It made his mouth water at the sight of his fiancé being so needy for him, it made him think how much he really missed having you in his grasp. He placed his hand on your mons, thumb reaching down to rub tight circles around your yearning clit. It made you moan to finally feel his touch on your sensitive bud.

He cursed under his breath at the sound, his cock twitching eagerly in the confines of his jeans. You reached one of your hands to stroke him through the rough fabric, tracing the print of his dick.

“Please, John,” you begged “I want you already”

John chuckled, a hint of mischief behind it. “I know, love, I know…but let me take my time to enjoy you, yeah?”

You pouted but gave him an abiding nod. He took his hand off you, making you whimper and your clit pulsate at the loss. He shifted on the couch again, now kneeling in front of it as he pulled your legs again to face him. You were hanging off the edge of the couch in front of him with your legs draped over each of his shoulders, his face inches from your heat.

“Fuck, I missed this pretty pussy,” his breath fanned against your sensitive cunt, and you were so desperate for him to devour you already.

He stuck his tongue out and licked a stipe up your pussy, the taste of you making him moan and roll his eyes back. Your lips parted as you let out a sigh full of relief. Your hands pulled your skirt higher to watch him savor you. He lapped at your pussy, tongue flat licking from your hole to your clit. His hands gripped your thighs as they closed around his head. Your eyes would not break from the sight of him eating you out like it was his last meal on earth.

His lips closed around your swollen clit and sucked on it, making the muscles on your thighs twitch and a whimper fall from your lips. He alternated between encapsulating your clit in his mouth and licking tight circles over it with the pointed tip of his tongue. He was making you a mess of moans and whimpers as your hands clutched the material of your skirt.

He reached his arms under your thighs and over your pelvis; one splayed out and held you still while the other spread your lips apart, exposing your clit fully for him to once again abuse it with his mouth. His lips wrapped around it, sucking and tugging at the bundle of nerves, making your eyes roll back and your hands fly to his hair, releasing a moan with his name attached to it.

You received a moan into your pussy from him in return. He latched his mouth onto your clit, lips sucking and massaging it. His hands now gripped your hips, grinding them against his face as he clung his mouth onto your pussy.

You felt your orgasm pooling in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes were so far into the back of your skull you were seeing stars. Your mouth chanted John’s name loudly like a prayer for salvation, pleading him to let you cum.

He nodded his head in unison with your hips as he licked your pussy, tongue giving special attention to your clit. He whimpered into it in desperation to feel you cum all over his face.

“C’mon baby I know you’re close, be good and cum for me” he mumbled against your cunt, practically begging you.

The grip on his hair was unrelenting, your back arching off the couch and hips slamming into his mouth. Your orgasm surged within you, ready to erupt like a volcano of pleasure. You missed him so fucking much. He knew exactly how to please, always has. You rode his face as you came, your hot liquid leaking out of you and onto his face, coating his beard in it. You were twitching in his grip, your hips stilling and mouth agape as a choked out moan emerged from you.

John’s grip on your hips was literally bruising and you couldn’t be happier to have a reminder of his return home later. He slowed down, lapping at your vulva and kissing your soaked pussy, making sure to savor every bit of you.

He looked up at you, sitting straight up with your legs on his shoulders, his eyes gazing at you lovingly as you still panted and came off your high.

“You’re gonna give me one more, right love?” He said peppering sloppy kisses in your inner thigh. You nodded your head drunkenly. He reached up to your skirt, finally pulling it off you, as you worked on unbuttoning your blouse as best you could with your clumsy, shaky hands. But John was too impatient; he clutched the fabric and tore the buttons apart with ease like he was tearing a piece of paper. He chuckled at your surprised expression, he knew he’d get an earful from you later when you weren’t too hazy to scold him.

“I’ll get you a new one, sweetheart,” he said as his hands found your breasts, massaging them before unclipping your bra and tossing it away. He stood up in front of you now, your legs around his hips, and he took in the sight of his soon-to-be-wife all flustered and naked for him. That body he admired so much, that soft supple skin he loved to bite and caress, those perfect breasts and that pretty pussy that loved his cock so much.

He unbuttoned his jeans and tugged down his boxers, cock springing out free and swollen. The sight of it made your pussy flutter, ready to take him in finally. You were aching for him, already felt yourself aroused and ready for another orgasm from him.

He cupped your mouth in one of his hands, silently instructing you to spit on it for him, to which you complied. He brought the hand to his cock, pumping it a few times and lubricating it with the spit you provided for him. He aligned his fat tip with your entrance, slowly pushing it in at a burning pace. You moaned at the sensation, it had been too long since you had taken in John's impressive size and you were not as accustomed to it. You had almost forgotten how fucking good it felt to have his full length in you up to the hilt.

He cursed under his breath, "Fuckin' 'ell, love, I missed how good your pussy takes my cock", his hand briefly caressed your cheek when the base of his cock was flush against your pussy. His hands gripped under your thighs, his knees were on the edge of the couch and he folded you into a mating press position. His cock was buried impossibly deep inside of you, you could feel him in your cervix.

John began to move at a slow pace, his cock sliding in and out of you slowly, making obscene squelching noises that echoed throughout your apartment. "S'tight and wet f'me, darling", he mumbled. He gradually picked up the pace, his hands held onto the back of the couch while yours held your own legs up and open for him.

His pace became harsher and faster, pulling moans from the two of you. His balls slapped against your ass as he thrust into you, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix making you almost scream with pleasure.

"Ah, John..." you started, barely able to gather words to say as you looked at his face with wide eyes, your pupils blown, "J-John, you fuck me so good...I missed how good you fuck me"

Your words made him feral, making him pound into you. He watched your expression hungrily; lips parted shining with drool, cheeks bright red and burning, and your pretty eyes glossy with lust as they looked up at him.

"Fuck, baby, fuck..." he groaned as he leaned back, sitting up straight and grabbing your waist, slamming you against his cock as you held your legs open for him still "wanna see you with a big round belly under your pretty white dress... wanna fill you up with my cum, sweet girl"

He pressed a hand against your abdomen, "Feel that? y'like feelin' my cock inside you?" The pressure of his hand mixed with his words and relentless pounding made you mewl, your throat hoarse from all the noises John was drawing out of you.

"Y-yeah, John, feels s'good," you whimpered watching his dick bulge within you. You felt another orgasm surging like a wave in your stomach, your walls pulsated and clenched around John's throbbing cock. He felt you close, he knew you were about to cum when your cunt gripped his length relentlessly. He brought two fingers up to his mouth and wet them, then placed them on your pussy, rubbing circles rhythmically with every thrust.

"Cum for me, darling, cum around my cock," he said breathlessly, his eyes fixated on your face as he fucked you and rubbed your swollen bud.

You were euphoric, the overstimulation pushing you over the edge. A couple of more thrusts and attention to your clit and you were gone. Your legs twitched and your body convulsed as you came, gripping John's cock with your walls tightly. You cried out, tears streaming from your eyes.

It took everything in John to not let himself cum right then and there, the feeling of your walls constricting him almost pushed him over the edge with you. But he had other plans; he withdrew his cock from you briefly as he took you in his arm effortlessly, flipping the two of you around. You were shocked and puzzled at the quickness of it, now you were sitting on John's lap all fucked out and out of breath. He had you straddle him and you hold up yourself the best you could, with whatever strength your muscles had.

"J-John, please, I-I can't" you begged, holding onto him and already feeling his tip against your tender entrance again.

"Shh, s'alright, hon, you can do it, I know you can," he cooed, his lips against your ear as he slipped his cock back into you, "just can't get enough o' you"

He held you with one arm firmly around your waist and his other hand gripping your ass, his lips kissing your neck and coaxing you with praises and encouragement as he sunk you down on his cock. You moaned at the intrusion, you were so sensitive it was maddening. Your body was limp as you rested on him, arms lax around his shoulders.

You shut your eyes and let him fuck himself into you, letting him overtake your sense once again. He pounded up into you, holding you in place as his hips thrust up into your abused cunt. You were a mess of moans and whines as he chased his own high.

He was grunting and cursing under his breath, "My pretty fuckin' wife, my girl...takin' my cock so well...bein' a good girl lettin' me fuck you senseless." He was close, his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. He hoisted your body up, grabbing your hair to make you look at him. You were cockdrunk, out of your mind, but you felt a third orgasm about to hit you like a truck again. John admired your dazed expression, his blue eyes now black with pleasure, he panted exhaustedly and full of desperation to empty his balls in you, fill you up like he said.

He took your face in his hand and clashed your lips together, moaning into your mouth as his hips stilled and the sensation of his cum flooding your insides made you cum with him. Both of you moaning into each other's mouths, your cheeks once again saturated with more tears. You pulled away from each other, panting out of breath with your sweaty foreheads resting against each other. You felt John's hot cum travel out of you between your legs. The hand that gripped your hair now softened, patting the crown of your head and smoothing out your hair. He looked into your eyes, admiring your post-orgasm face, basking in your beauty and in the afterglow of his own orgasm.

You smiled at him breathlessly, exhaustion all over your expression, you kissed him once more, this time more tenderly, putting all the love for him that filled your heart into your kiss. You pulled away and cupped his face, the two of you held each other, sweaty bodies against each other.

"Welcome home, John."

A/N: y'all... i did not intend for this to be so long again!!! but if you loved it and made it this far, let me know!!! thnx for reading ;)

#call of duty mwii #cod mw2 #fanfic #john price #cod fanfic #john price smut #john price x reader #john price cod #john price call of duty #captain john price #captain price x reader #captain price #price mw2

[norrisleclercf1]

It's All A Lie

Pairing: Lando Norris x Reader x Charles Leclerc

Words: 3K

Warnings: Just pure angst, honestly it just hurts the entire time

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: It all comes crashing down when your lies are all revealed, no one is spared and everyone leaves broken in some way

Our Boy Masterlist/ Previous: Hey Dad / Next: Letter 1

"Good to see me again?" Nico makes a noise of discomfort hearing the sharp edge of your father's voice. "I highly doubt this a good to see me again, moment Nico. Especially how we all left things off." Mr. Häkkinen cuts, deep Nico stepping back from Elijah. 

"Selitä itsellesi. Nyt." Flinching at your father's words, you feel like that little girl again, telling him you're pregnant. He was furious, more so that you were stupid enough to let Nico get your pregnant. It was a couple months before he came around. "Isä, minä olen," Mika holds his hand, not wanting to hear your excuses. 

"Elijah, go with your Pa and Dad." "No." Your eyes widen at Elijah's bold disobedience towards your father. "No? Boy, I suggest you do as you're told." Elijah stands his ground, refusing to move from Nico's side. "Elijah, do as you're told." Nico whispers, not wanting to make this worse. "Why? They're not my fathers, they didn't fucking know you're my father." Elijah spits. "Elijah James Leclerc-Norris, you will listen to your grandfather. Go." You snarl, furious at him acting like this. 

"I hate you, I hate you all!" Elijah yells, shoving past Charles and Lando. Lando reaches out for him, but he yanks his arm out of Lando's hold, running down the paddock. "Elijah, wait!" Lando yells, following after his little boy. "Nice job," Nico snides; as you turn, glaring at him, you open your mouth to start arguing, but Charles steps between you. "Enough," Charles's voice was dark, shaking with rage. 

"Charles is correct. The race is getting close to starting. And you," Mika hits you with a stern gaze. "Go find your son, try to repair what little relationship you have left with him." Chest shaking, you nod, "I'll be back." You whisper to Charles, hand on his back, but he steps away. "Take your time," Something in the way Charles says it tells you everything you need to know. 

"Charles," You reach out for him, but he steps back again. "I said go. You'll need the time to make up more lies to explain all of this." He walks past you; the ice of his words has your blood cold. "Charles," Watching his figure get swallowed by the crowd, you blink fast, everything too much. "Well, little Miss Innocent is getting her due justice. The time has finally come." Mika shakes his head but knows he can't defend you from this. Nico was right. 

"Fuck you, Nico!" Your ex can't help but chuckle at your words. You have nothing to throw in his face now. "Fuck me? You're the one who made me the villain! That I'm the horrible father. Wake up, sugar. Your worst nightmare is coming true," Stepping closer, Mika's hand thumps against Nico's chest as he leans in. "You're a horrible mother." "Hey!" Mika snaps, but Nico shrugs and steps back. "I hope lying about everything was worth losing the 3 most important people in your life." You watch, sniffling as Nico heads up the VIP entrance, losing sight of him as he walks through the doors. 

"Daddy." You whimper. Mika looks at you with nothing but disappointment and sadness. "I raised you better, and all you've shown me is that you're still that little girl who's angry at Nico. You did all this just to get back at him. And he's right, you're filled with such anger and contempt that you've lied to your son and your....whatever Lando and Charles are to you," Mika takes a deep breath, laying a hand on your shoulder. "Grow up, you have 2 children. Stop acting like one and face the music." His hand slides off as he heads back to the McLaren hospitality. 

Everyone's left you; you can't stop as you sink onto the stairs and sob. Nico left you again. Your father has left you, Elijah, and Lando. Charles, who promised never to leave you, has also left you. The loud cheers and roar of the engines tell you that the race has started. Phone binging, you tear it out of your pocket, thinking it's Elijah; instead, Cecile texting you that she's at the Mercedes garage. 

You don't move from your spot, choking on another sob as you throw the phone, yelling as it shatters. Nico was right; your worst nightmare was coming true. 

------------------------------------------------

"Daddy? When's Mama coming home?" Lando jumps a little, Cecile's voice shocking him as he tucks her in. "She's with some friends; she'll be home in the morning." Lando lies the words like acid. Lando hated lying; being told lies made him sick. "Okay, good night, Daddy." Cecile smiles. How Lando wishes she'd remain oblivious to the turmoil that will soon fall on the house. "Good night." 

"She asleep?" The bedroom door closes as Lando looks at Charles, who holds a photo album on his lap. "I," Lando's face crumbles. Charles is quick to toss the book to the side and moves, pulling Lando into his chest. "He said we weren't his fathers." Lando sobs, holding onto Charles for dear life. "I know." Charles was past tears, having cried on the podium. Everyone thought he was just happy. 

Unaware that Charles didn't know if he'd have a family to come home to. "She lied about everything, everything, Charles." Lando gasps, and the older one moves them to the little couch, sitting him down. Charles wants to say words of comfort, but how could he? He didn't know what to say. All he wanted to do was to scream at you until his throat was bloody and raw. Instead, he remains silent as Lando cries himself to sleep. 

Charles refuses to sleep; he can't. The anger was too intense, and each time he closed his eyes, your lies and memories of Elijah saying he wasn't his father kept him up. Lando tossed and turned, waking at odd hours either to check his phone or to cry. 

"Good morning." Cecile smiles, skipping down the stairs, ready for school. "Daddy? Papa?" Her face dropped, seeing the pale and sickly faces of her parents. "Hey, gummy bear. Ready to visit Grandmere?" Lando tries to smile but fails, lips wavering. "Yeah," Cecile's feet shuffle, unsure if she should ask what happened with Elijah. "I'll drive you," Charles grabs his keys, but his daughter waves him off. "I'll walk," "Wait," Lando calls, but the back porch door shuts, Lando hanging his head. 

"What do we say? Hey, Mama lied about everything? About her family? About your brother's father? How he didn't sign away his rights? Oh, we don't know where they are?!" Lando slams his glass into the sink, pieces of the cup flying up. Charles stares at his husband back; he wants to talk, but anytime he does. Nothing but vile words come up. "Well?" Lando snaps, turning to Charles. 

"Don't snap at me," Charles looking at Lando. "I don't know what to say. I want to be understanding, yet I only want to scream at her." Lando shakes his head, phone dinging with his alarm. "I have a meeting." Charles nods as Lando slides on his shoes and slams the garage door. The Front door opens, and Charles sighs as he cleans up the broken glass. "Did you forget your keys again?" He stops, seeing you in the kitchen archway. 

"Get out." "Charles, please," You plead, rushing to his side, but he moves behind the island. "Get out, get out of this house. You," Breathless, he tries to gather his thoughts. "Do you have any idea what you have done? Was Nico right? About it all?" Charles watches as you're unable to meet his eyes; he laughs, rubbing his face. "FUCK!" Jumping as he slams his hands down. 

"Years, you've had 16 years to tell us, me, the truth, and you didn't. I mean fuck, I should be to blame. I never asked you questions because I didn't want to dig up bad memories. I married you without even asking about your family. All this proves is that I was a fool in love." He spats as you take several deep breaths. "Was?" You ask, picking up that one word. "What?" "Was. You said I was a fool in love." You repeat his words. 

Charles's face sombers, standing up straight. "You're right. I was in love. Because you are not the woman I fell in love with. You're not the woman who carried both my children; you are a shell of lies. And I will not let you be around Lando or Cecile. Get some of your stuff and leave." You swear you could be sick at this moment. "Don't do this, please, Charles." Grabbing his arm, he rips it out of your hold. 

"Get out of my house. Don't come back until we're ready to talk to you." Tears fall down your cheeks; wiping them quickly, you nod. "What'd Elijah say when he came home?" You whisper. "He didn't come home last night." Charles stops, his anger swapped with realization at his words. "What do you mean he didn't come home last night? Where is my son Charles?" "Our son." Charles snarls, dialing Elijah's number. "Come on, baby, pick up." He whispers into the speaker, but it just goes to voicemail. 

"Dammit. Try calling him on yours." "I can't." His head snaps to you, confused. "I threw it at a wall yesterday, and it shattered." You explain, now feeling like a toddler after a tantrum. "I'll buy a new one for you later." Grabbing his keys, he slides on his jacket and shoes, jogging outside. "Where are you going?" You yell, stopping at the front door. "I'm doing what you can't seem to do: going after my son." Sliding into the car, you watch as he takes off down the winding roads of Monaco. 

-------------------------------

"I hate her." Mika chuckles as he sits in front of the teenage version of his daughter. Split lip and all. "No, you don't; you hate that she's not the woman you idolize. You hate that you've learned she's human. It happens to every child." Mika takes a bite of eggs, making a face. "She lied," Elijah whispers, pushing his breakfast around. 

"That she did, but she's been hurt for a long time. No excuse, though." Elijah looks out from the diner, taking in the people moving outside. They probably didn't have to deal with this, the lies. "Did you know that Lewis was the one to introduce your Mama and Nico?" Mika hums, sipping his coffee. Snorting, Elijah shakes his head, "I didn't even know Un, Lewis knew all of this until yesterday." "Course not, vitun lapset." Mika curses. 

"She just entered University. She knew Lewis through me, Mclaren days," Elijah smiles, remembering all the stories his Dad would tell him. "Anyways, your mother, she's been hurting for a long time. Nico healed a part of her, I think. He was older. She was wide-eyed and didn't understand the world." Elijah leans closer. You never told him anything about the days you were younger. 

"Their relationship was one of secrets. She hid it was her father, Nico, that he was even dating her. She wanted people to know, but he didn't. A love filled with secrets, lies, and god knows what else." Elijah takes a bite as Mika remembers when you came home to Finland, crying and broken. "They broke up, and Nico tracked her down. Found out who she really was. And well, let's just say you came to be during that whole mess." Making a face, Mika chuckles as Elijah gags. "Grandpa?" "Yes?" 

"Papa and Dad may never forgive me." He whispers, choking back tears. "Probably not." "That's not what you're supposed to say!" Elijah cries, slamming his fork down. The waitress is about to make her way over, but Mika waves her off. "What do you want me to say? That you have hurt the men who love you more than air? That the 16 years spent raising you meant nothing? Loving you, healing you, supporting you meant absolutely nothing? You chose a man you barely know over the two who have spent years shaping you into the man you are today." Elijah drops his head, wiping the snot and tears away. 

"Listen here, kid, some kids are fortunate to have just one father. Most don't even get just one; you have two amazing fathers. You're 16, so you don't realize how lucky you've got it, so wake up and see all the love and support you've got. Also, answer that damn phone. I'm tired of hearing Super Max." Elijah laughs, turning it over to see Ezra's face. Uncle Max's son and best friend. 

"Sup," "Sup, is that how you great people. Raised with no manners, were you?" Elijah smiles some more, shushing Mika. "Dude, you better be dead in a ditch somewhere." Ezra's familiar drawl fills his ears. "Why?" "Your Dad's flipping. I got woken up by Dad asking if I'd heard from you. Did you really run away from home yesterday?" Elijah groans, banging his head on the table. "Shit." "Yeah shit, Dad is freaking out, which means so are the others. Also, is it true that Nico Rosberg is your father? I thought Lando was?" Elijah looks around, Mika staring right at him. 

"It's true; how the hell did you hear about it?" "It's all over the internet; some fan overheard this crazy ass argument. Posted it all over the web. Shit, man, your family is loaded. Goddamn Formula 1 dynasty." Ezra chuckles before he yawns. "Fuck off, I barely know him. Besides, it's not a dynasty." "You sure? Because I think having the Flying Finn as your grandfather counts." Elijah bangs his head even harder on the table. 

"I'm hanging up now!" Elijah yells in the phone, Ezra's voice yelling as he hangs up. "I'll always say the internet," Mika squinting at his phone. "Is the worst thing to be invented." Turning his phone around, Elijah wants nothing more than to have the earth swallow him. 

Y/n Leclerc-Norris? More Like Leclerc-Norris-Rosberg-Häkkinen, Read Here for the Inside Scoop on All the Dirty Lies. 

"Jesus. Passed around more than the Red Bull Second seat." Elijah the second line, disgusted with the headline, Mika shaking his head. "It'll get worse, but there is something worse than this." "Yeah, like what?" Elijah grumbles. "You're pissed off, Papa." Turning slowly in his chair, he turns to face the raging bull of his Papa. "Hi." 

------------------------------------------

"Where are you going?" Fuck, you really didn't want to have this conversation. Turning, you see your daughter staring at you. She was like her father. Lando could turn off his emotions, too. She knew that he was his father. That stupid project she did on genetics revealed it all. "I'm going back home for a little bit." Folding your clothes, you lay them in your suitcase. 

"Why? We just got here? Grandmere is coming over tonight. You're heading back to London already?" Cecile was one filled with questions, always needing the answers, never the questions. "I'm not going to London. I'm, it's not important. Come here." You wave her over as the two of you sit on the edge of the bed. "Papa, Daddy, and I are fighting," She opens her mouth, but you hold your hand up. 

"Let me finish." She nods, letting you continue. "Yes, it has to do with Elijah and the rumors. Yes, Nico Rosberg is Elijah's father. I lied about it, about a lot of things. I don't think it'd be smart to be here for a little bit." "No." Cecile stands, pulling her hands out your own. "Cecile," "No, you can't. Papa and Daddy won't know what to do without you. They'll forgive you, just don't go, Mama." Cecile whispers, reaching out to wipe her eyes. 

"Baby, listen. Your fathers aren't happy with me, rightfully so. We need a small break to figure everything out." Cecile shakes her head fast. "Then I'm coming with you." She cries, tackling you in a hug and burying her head in your stomach. "Oh gorgeous, you can't." Pulling her off, you fix her hair, such lovely curls. She really was all Lando some days. "Daddy, Elijah, and Papa need you. I'll call when I land, okay? Just give this to Elijah." Placing a box in Cecile's arms, she nods as you zip up the suitcase. Placing one last kiss on her cheek, you head to the waiting taxi.

----------------------------------------------------- 

"Irresponsible, stupid, dangerous, selfish! I could list some more if you'd like." Charles growls at his son, who curls in on himself each time Charles talks. "I'm sorry." He whispers the word exhausted on his tongue. "Sorry? Now you're sorry? You should have been sorry when you said Dad and I weren't your fathers. You should've been sorry when you ran away, and you definitely should've been sorry about what you said to Dad and when you pushed me away." Charles whispers the last part, pulling into the driveway, Lando's car in the garage. 

"I fucked up. I know that." "Don't curse." Elijah cringes, fiddling with his fingers. "Get inside, now." Nodding, Elijah climbs out of the car and heads inside. "Lando? What happened?" Hearing his Pa's worried voice, he moves quicker, seeing Cecile curled into his Dad, bawling her eyes out. "She left," Is all Lando whispers. 

"Who left?" Cecile picks her head up, crawling out of Lando's lap. "Mama did, and it's all your fault." She sobs, slamming the box into Elijah's chest. "Cecile, wait!" Charles calls, running after her while Lando stares at Elijah. "She left it for you," Elijah nods, unsure what to say. He hurt his Dad in a way only a child could. "I'm," He stops, saying sorry wasn't going to fix this, nothing he could ever say would fix this. 

"I'll be upstairs with your sister. She'll cry herself into a panic attack." Lando usually would kiss Elijah on the head. Instead, he brushes past him, leaving a chill. Holding the box, Elijah sits down, removing the lid. Inside lays letters upon letters. Pictures of his Mama and Nico, even Lewis. But one letter sticks out, wrapped in a black envelope. 

Tearing it open, he reads the first sentence. 

Elijah, you must hate me for what I did. Rightfully so, but first, you should know the story. The real story. This is how your father and I met.........

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #formula one #f1 scenario #our boy series #f1 angst #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fics #lando x reader #lando norris #lando imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris angst #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles imagine #charles x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x you

[histarean]

barracks bunny

könig x fem reader

summ: you're known as the barracks bunny while you and könig are dating

word count: 1.8k

content/warnings: angst, comfort

a/n: i love könig and writing angst so why not combine them? this is my first cod "fic" so i'm pretty excited! i know my account has been primarily aot but i hope this reaches the cod fandom. love you all

Rumors spread fast in the military. Everyone on the base knew that, especially you. 

König and you had been together for a while now and while all the guys knew you were his, there were still whispers floating around. Whispers soon turned to stares, stares to quiet laughing and eventually, the whole base knew you as the barracks bunny. 

Now, König’s not stupid, of course he heard what the other cadets were saying and to say he was not happy was an understatement. He knew he had to do something but with three warnings racked up (for beating up other soldiers who were talking shit about you) he couldn’t just fight everyone on the entire base. The next best option was to confront you about it.

His footsteps down the hall sounded like thunder and his breathing was lightning. Each step he took was filled with anger and everyone he passed could hear it. How could these people say those things about his schatz? 

“You know she’s slept with half of us already?”

“She’s such a slut”

“I wonder if I’ve ever got a chance with her”

It's so cruel. His precious lover being reduced to a “slut” a “whore” a “barracks bunny” it was all too much. König was trained to keep cool during battle, to withstand weeks of torture, to take stabs to the chest and bullets in the leg but this? No. This was unacceptable. 

He’s closer to your room now. Closer to finding out the truth and his thoughts are racing. What if it is true? Has this whole relationship been a sham? Rumors don't come from nowhere, there has to be some validity behind it. He hopes it’s not true. He really, really does because what would be left for him without you? What would he be fighting for? 

König stands outside your door. Just standing. His hand is on the doorknob but he can’t bring himself to open it. He can hear you laughing on the other side with someone else. So it was true. König could feel his heart break and shatter into a million pieces. The already faint talking started sounding like gibberish as he slowly let his hand fall from the door to his side. It felt like time had stopped and everything around him faded away into oblivion. Maybe he had been there for 30 seconds, a minute, 5 minutes, who could say. Nothing mattered anymore. 

Thoughts of leaving KorTac crossed his mind since..what was left for him here? You had lied to him. You promised it was all a joke and nothing happened. That you were his one and only. 

The trance was suddenly broken when the door opened and a hand pressed against his chest. 

“König, what are you doing?” your familiar voice brought him to his senses. 

He couldn’t look you in the eyes. His head bowed, eyes settling on the ground. 

You tried shaking his arm but he barely budged. 

So tense, you thought. 

“Hey talk to me big guy” you brought your fingers to his chin lifting his head. It’s a reach. “Please” 

König let you lift his head but averted his gaze to the room in front of him. It was Ghost. 

Ghost was the one in your room. Why him of all people? 

“You lied to me” , his accent thick. 

He felt betrayed. His only love had gone behind his back and stabbed him in the heart. This hurt more than any wound he’d ever had. Bullet holes were nothing compared to this. No knife could cut deep enough to produce the same pain he was feeling. 

“When were you going to tell me? That there were others in your life” he struggled to get the words out of his mouth. 

“What are you talking about?” you were audibly confused. “Is this about those rumors you’ve heard? I told you they were all fake” 

König mustered up the courage to look you in the face. You were so beautiful. Even though he was angry, he couldn’t get enough of you. He could look at you forever if he wanted. Your eyes seemed to suck him in like a black hole. Once you’re in, you can’t get back out. No matter how hard you try. No matter how hard he tried. 

But past all that, he couldn’t find a hint of deception in your face. You looked genuinely lost. 

“Why is Ghost in your room?” König glanced up to him. 

Ghost wasn’t doing anything. Not hurriedly pulling up his pants, not putting his shirt back on, nothing that would point to them being interrupted. He was calmly sitting on a chair, observing a rifle. Fully clothed, mask and all. You, on the other hand, were still dressed in cargo pants and a creme tank top that hugged your chest. So what the hell were you two doing? 

“He was showing me how to load ammo more efficiently” you turned back to Ghost, he was completely unbothered. Not even looking up.  

Everyone knew you had a hard time loading ammo quickly and were often stuck using knives and other weapons in place of guns. Price was even close to discharging you because of this.

Lovers quarrel, he thought. It was a ridiculous argument and Ghost wanted no part of it. He got up to leave, tossing your AUG on the bed. He casually walked out, ignoring a stare from König that could burn cities. 

“Good luck” he whispered to you, passing the door and disappearing into the hallway. 

Now you are alone. With König. This would usually be ideal but now it was scary. You know he would never ever lay a hand on you but maybe it was different this time? You hadn’t done anything but he didn’t know that. All he knew was another man was in your room while he wasn’t. This would make anyone angry. The whole situation was just a huge misunderstanding. 

“I don’t want to have this conversation in the doorway. Can you please come in?” you reached for his arm but he pulled away before you could touch him.

You were dirty to him. Tainted. He was aware you weren’t a virgin before you met him, but when you’re in a relationship, sex is sacred. At least to König. 

He walked in the room first, scanning it for any disturbances or abnormalities. None. There wasn’t anything out of place: sheets tucked tightly under the corners of the bed, clothes hung up in the small closet, everything was in order. 

He took a seat on the same chair Ghost was occupying minutes earlier. It was still warm. You sat on the bed facing across from him. König’s leg was bouncing so fast it made the chair shake and his hands were fidgeting with themselves. 

You slowly got up and kneeled down in front of him, taking his hands in yours. He looked down at your interlocked fingers then to your eyes. You looked sad. He never wanted to make you feel this way but what you did was unforgivable. 

“Believe me König, I would never do anything to hurt you” you had a slight smile on your face, trying to comfort him.

He didn’t smile back. What he needed was the truth. Where the rumors were coming from, why you got weird stares, and how long this has been going on. If you couldn't tell him, or if he thought you were lying, he might just have to end this. He doesn’t want to but how can he be with a liar, a cheater, someone unfaithful. 

“Tell me everything,” he said in a deep voice. Eyes fixated on you, unmoving. 

“There is no everything, König. Just stupid boys trying to start something out of nothing” you explained, “I promise” 

His leg had slowed down to a steady pace, still bouncing, but more controlled. You rubbed your thumb along his knuckles. Soothing. Like a mother’s touch. Except he could never remember his mother touching him like this. Like anything. You were the first one in his life to show any affection. Romantically or platonically. 

“Do you promise?” he squeezed your hands. 

Please don’t lie to me schatz. You’re all I have.

“I promise” 

That’s all König needed to hear. He wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug. It was awkward. He wasn’t used to hugging people. It was suffocating but warm. His large frame surrounding your small body made you feel at home. He was your home. And you were his. 

“Ich liebe dich Engel. Bitte bleib für immer bei mir” he muttered into your neck. 

“Ich liebe dich auch” you replied through broken German.

He had taught you some of his native tongue when you had spare time. Simple phrases like “I love you” “cuddle me” “please” and so on. You wrote down all the things he taught you in a little notebook and often referred back to them when you had the chance. In your opinion, it was a pointless language with long words that made no sense and unnecessary diacritics, but you’d do anything for your king. 

You held each other for a while, slightly rocking back and forth. He breathed in the scent of your hair and you rubbed his back, stopping for a moment then continuing. 

You felt your body begin to lift, feet dangling in the air. You wrapped your legs around König’s waist for support as he carried you to the bed. He slowly lays you down, stepping back for a minute.

“Aren’t you coming?” you patted the space next to you. 

Of course König was coming, he just didn’t want to hurt you. Lying down directly on top you would surely suffocate you and he couldn’t do that to his little Maus. You were so small compared to him, so fragile. He’d seen you kill countless men, but in his eyes you were still his delicate Blume. 

“Yes my dear, I need to know you are comfortable though” he looked down at you.

Your safety and needs always came before his. In the bedroom, on the battlefield, and anywhere else you might be. You were his whole world and he wanted to make sure you knew that. You did. He told you everyday. Constantly showering you with compliments and praises. 

“I am” 

König’s gentle climbing in next to you, careful not to crush you. He lays on his side as you snuggle into him, face in his chest. So warm. You could hear his heartbeat, such a steady and comforting sound. A slight smile forms on his lips as he wraps you in his arms engulfing your torso. You stayed there for what felt like forever, savoring this sweet moment. Who knows how many more of these you would get. Your jobs were dangerous to say the least. Living to see another day was a gift, not a promise. But being with him made it all worth it. He’s the love of your life. You would never want to be with anyone else. Only him.

“You are everything to me, Meine Liebe” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

His Liebe. Forever and always.

#konig x reader #konig x fem reader #konig x female reader #konig x you #konig fanfic #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig #call of duty #call of duty fanfic #konig imagine #konig angst #konig comfort #konig fanfiction

[gentlyweeps-world]

wine and comprise - sequel

[ read wine and lies for background ]

summary: he made revenge all too easy.

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader | carlos sainz x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption | suggestive tones | toxic carlos

genre: toxic relationship | new love | SMAU | mentions of cheating

notes: yippie!! might continue this

words: 1k

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

You glare at the man in front of you, gripping the door as you try to calm your nerves. After all, he had no right to show up unannounced after everything.

“C’mon amor..I’m better for you…” Carlos says, his voice smooth, inviting almost- but you knew better.

It had taken some time, and break from social media, but you were content, happy with Charles. You didn’t feel used or controlled. You felt loved.

“No! No- Carlos you have Rebecca! You don’t get to do that again! Especially to her..” You say, moving away from him. “I’m happy with Charles, he’s doing more than you ever did”

“But, I can love you so much more. I promise you, I will spoil you, I will give you everything you need and want, amour…” Carlos slides his hands around your waist, bringing you closer to his body.

“Don’t..touch me..” You say, shoving him away, “I don’t care what you say, you’ve hurt me before! Stop trying to manipulate me Carlos!”

“You don’t just get to walk around, playing with people’s emotions!” You add on.

“I’m not Y/n!” Carlos protests, “I just want to love you again! We had something special..please..”

“Had Carlos! Emphasis on the had!” You say, clearly frustrated with how Carlos was acting.

“So you don’t love me now?” Carlos asks, clearly hurt by your words yet still determined to get you back, he wouldn’t give up so easily.

“No! What the fuck is wrong with you!” You say, a clear look of shock on your face. “Get it through your thick fucking skull that I don’t want you or anything to do with you anymore”

“That hurt Y/n” Carlos says, looking at you, his heart sinking into his stomach, hearing the words come out of your mouth. He knew he might not have been the best to you but he thought his words would pull you back in, like they always did.

He was wrong, and he knew there was nothing left to try, he was lost now, he could try to get a word out but the look on your face showed all he needed.

“Good, now you know what it’s like” You say with a scoff, rolling your eyes at his hypocrisy. “Bye Carlos” You say with a smile, shutting the door on him.

“So that’s what happened..” You mumble out to Charles, telling him the earlier events with Carlos. You snuggle closer into him on the sofa.

Charles looked at you as you spoke.

He frowned slightly and tightened his grip on your waist as you snuggled closer to him.

“He’s still trying to get to you? I was worried he would but I thought he wouldn’t have the audacity…”

“And he grabbed you?” He asked in a quiet tone as he brushed your hair back behind your ear.

“Yeah but it was fine, that’s just how he is..” You say softly, giving Charles a small smile.

“I’m sorry, I know you guys are teammates..”

Charles returns your smile, placing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t apologize, it’s fine. I understand he’s your ex and he’s going to be around regardless.”

He paused for a few seconds as a thought crossed his mind.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, he won’t be with Ferrari much longer…”

Your eyebrows raise at that, not expecting him to say that. “I guess that is true..” You say with a chuckle.

Everything felt right now. Well there was one thing you needed to do, go to the place where it all started.

“Hey, Charlie? You ready?” You ask, peeking your head into your bedroom, checking if he was done getting ready.

Charles turned slightly as he heard you. He was at the edge of your bed, pulling on his shirt.

He looked over at you and nodded his head. Charles walked over to where you were standing and stepped close to you.

His arms wrapped around you tightly, his body pressing against yours."I'm ready... you ready, cheri?" He said, gently brushing some hair out of your face.

You smile up at him, admiring his blue eyes for a moment. “Yeah, let’s go” You say with a soft smile.

It wasn’t as difficult as you thought it would be, going back to yours and Carlos’s usual restaurant. Going with Charles felt refreshing.

You two had sat in a comfortable silence, mostly taking each other in and the surroundings, occasionally engaging in a conversation.

Finally you broke the silence, “Thank you by the way..”

“For what, cheri?” Charles asks with a chuckle and grin, grabbing his wine glass and taking a sip of it.

“Just for being there really..” You reply with a smile, reaching across the table for his free hand, lacing your fingers together.

“Of course, Y/n..” He says with a smile, squeezing your hand.

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charles_leclerc ❤️❤️

youruser 🤍🤍

charles_leclerc mon ange

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user7931 OHH OKAY SO ITS OFFICIAL??

user0281 I KNEW IT CHARLES ALWAYS MADE EYES AT Y/N

user7931 especially after that banquet 😭

user3728 she’s such a whore wtf

user0281 literally shut the fuck up you are so jealous

user6372 can we agree Y/n x Carlos and Charles x Charlotte Sine was the best

user0281 let them live omfg

iamrebeccad Lovee ❤️❤️

youruser 🤍🤍

francisca.cgomez FINALLY YOU POSTED HIM

youruser give me a break Kika 😭🫶

francisca.cgomez never 😘

scuderiaferrari 👀❤️

youruser 🫶

So that was that…

At least that’s what you assumed.

Walking into the Bahrain Paddock with Charles you let out a shaky breath, hesitantly lacing your fingers together. The last time you were there was with someone else, and that someone else, had their eyes set on you two.

But it wasn’t in a jealous way- or even anger.

“You alright cheri?” You hear Charles ask out to you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Yeah I am, don’t worry Charlie…” You say with a smile, squeezing his hand.

You look around, spotting Carlos, who for some reason gives you a head nod. It had confused you at first, until later after free practice one and two.

There had been your favorite wine left at the door of your hotel room, and you knew exactly who left it there.

That was his compromise, he wanted to do just one last thing.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚

radio 🪩: guys I pinky promise I’m working on the next part to silver or red | leave any comments or requests 🫶

taglist: @janeholt3 @lightdragonrayne @roseseraj @formulas-bitch @d3kstar @rehenys @xoscar03

#formula one #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 x reader #cl16 #cl16 imagine #cl16 x you #cl16 one shot #cl16 fic #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz #cs55 fluff #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #cs55 fic #ferrari x reader #ferrari racing #ferrari #gently weeps blurbs #gently weeps fics

[blueskittlesart]

can we talk about how rauru is literally like. just zelda’s dad. like in that one scene where zelda looks like she’s gravely contemplating turning into a dragon and then rauru goes “i believe the answer lies in more research and understanding your power!” and she looks at him with such shock and awe. zelda’s adventures in the past are literally like her life but with a better dad. the queen promises her to help her figure out her power but dies before they can figure out a way how to use that power to safely save everyone. zelda desperately wants to help everyone and is clearly feeling the pressure of it all and the king is the one to tell her “hey i understand how hard you’re trying and how much you want to save everyone and we’re thankful for what you’re doing”. rauru actually acknowledges zelda’s dedication and the importance of research and technology, he is kind to her and never blames her for any of the bad things happening. he also never pushes zelda to make sacrifices and is the one sacrificing himself in the end - in botw, all the champions and zelda have to choose to make sacrifices to save the kingdom, but in totk rauru doesn’t ask that of any of the sages, instead recognizing his own responsibility as king and basically dying to save his kingdom. he’s literally zelda’s better dad.

same anon as the one raving about rauru also the differences between how the two kings treat link. they’re both tutorial figures but the way they guide is SO different. pretty much the first thing rhoam does is lie and pretend to be a random old man, being quite annoying as he sends link to do a bunch of challenges for a paraglider. the framing is so fundamentally different, rauru freely offers the information he has to link upfront, he apologises for the body modification, acknowledging link’s potential distress. rhoam basically keeps link on the plateau arbitrarily, presenting giving items and teaching link about things as challenges for link to overcome. rauru on the other hand aids link as best he can, tells him what he needs to do from the beginning (tells him to open the door which is pretty much the last thing he’ll need to do in the tutorial, telling him about the ultimate goal from the beginning), proposes solutions when it doesn’t work out (directs him to the shrines as a way to help him gain the strength he needs, as opposed to making him complete challenges to get a paraglider that in the moment seems like literally arbitrary conditions). rhoam telling link how much responsibility and pressure he has on him all of a sudden and how much he needs to do vs rauru telling link that it was wonderful to meet him and zelda’s accounts of him were all true. like. the framing. the difference in character. the deterioration of knowledge within hyrule falls parallel to the deterioration of its king’s kindness and virtue.

the differences between rauru and roham are crazy to me because one of them was so fundamentally good and one was so fundamentally flawed and yet. neither of them were able to save their kingdom. no matter how good a king of hyrule is, no matter what he gets right or wrong, he is still doomed to die. rhoam tried to sacrifice his daughter to keep hyrule alive. rauru did everything in his power to make sure she DIDNT have to be sacrificed. and in the end the outcome was the same. but the KINGS were not the same, and that difference in framing you mentioned i think is fundamentally a difference in legacy. rhoams legacy is to forever be the king who sacrificed children to save himself and died anyway. rhoam died a loser through and through, a king atop a throne of nothing but failure. i think that’s partially why he appears as an old man at first, because he KNOWS what being the king of hyrule means and he’s EMBARRASSED that his legacy is what it is. but rauru. in complete contrast, rauru was so GOOD. rauru died with his sages and his DAUGHTER alive to see another day. rauru ENSURED they’d live no matter what. he wouldn’t LET them sacrifice themselves for him. rauru put everyone else before himself. he didn’t expect or even tolerate self-sacrifice and yet when the time came he sacrificed HIMSELF selflessly despite knowing that it wouldn’t even WORK. rauru’s legacy is something to be proud of. he’s open to link because he has nothing TO hide. no regrets or stupid decisions. and he is remembered so much more favorably because of it.

#all rhoam had to do was not sacrifice child soldiers but that is apparently too high a bar for him #even in death rauru is like. apologetic to link about having to do all this shit too #which is crazy different from rhoam ‘go save my kid who i abused for years. fuck you no paraglider’ hyrule #LIKE. rauru and sonia are transparently the father and mother zelda never had. and then they both DIE. AGHHHHHH #totk liveblog #totk spoilers

[0xstarzx0]

FAULT |ONE SHOT|

Officer Rafe x Reader

{OPEN COMMAND (please 😔)}

[English is not my native language❗️❗️]

synopsis: Even if it happened years ago, You haven’t forgotten and your boyfriend doesn’t intend to leave the criminals in peace

tw: smut, non-con, motion of sex, sex, Blame the victim, plush, mention of murder.

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In general you do not walk in the street so late, you preferred to stay at home and watch TV or paint. You walked aimlessly, your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took it putting strands of hair behind your ear.

He was a boy in your class you never talked to. "Walking alone on the street is dangerous, you know?"

When you finished reading the message, you instantly looked up, you started looking around. "Is anyone there?" You asked to hide the fear in your voice.

You started to write a message when someone caught you violently from behind, you did not have time to shout because, the stranger had already his hand on your throat and mouth.

The man was a little taller than you, his greasy brown hair and his mouth that had a mischievous smile. You look like a little prey that just got caught.

"You know my name, right?" He threw you against a wall in a little alley. You lied and nodded, his expression became firmer.

"You lie and you want to know why?" He tightened his grip on your neck, making you squirm in every way hitting his arm.

He approached his lips with your ear." Because the day I asked you out you didn’t know my name." He lets go of your throat." The day I asked you to give me a pencil, you still didn’t know my name." He starts unbuttoning his pants. "And you know what?" you start to cry even harder. then he starts to lower your tracksuit bottom." Tonight, I’m gonna make you so impure that no man will ever touch you again, baby I promise."

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as he had promised, no man would dare to approach you, You were disgusting in their eyes, You provoked it is true, how could a boy like that rape a girl?? " He was too nice to do it." said some girls who went to classes together." She was just ignoring her, and anyway it’s good for her, he did the right thing to calm her down," said some guys.

You stopped going to college because of this, it took you three years of therapy to convince yourself that you weren’t the one at fault.

You sort of moved on in your own way, Drinking was one of the easiest ways. But instead you comb. You express what you felt while painting.

You even tried to make friends, and you did.

Stella went through the same thing you did, except she joined the police. For her to put swelling behind bars was the most important thing.

And one night when you were waiting for her at her place of work, she came out, you started walking towards her when a man and went out and stood next to her and said nothing, he just lit a cigarette and handed her his package. She lit a cigarette.

She looks at the area slightly strained, then her eyes are on you. "Y/N you were not to come later?" she asks you trouble." But since I don’t have any other friends and I finished my painting earlier, I came to see you in advance!" You say trying to be as convincing as possible.

Actually, the canvas you painted was your attacker’s face, you don’t want to forget it, you can’t forget it. So when you finished the canvas and looked at it for more than twenty minutes without saying anything just to cry, you had no desire to stay alone at home.

Stella nods skeptically and then suddenly, as if she had realized her presence, she turns to the smoker. Y/N meet Rafe, my partner " You look at the man and he looks at you in turn.

Rafe is big, really big.  When you do 5'3 everything looks bigger.

He gave you a shy smile and you turned your head embarrassed, you lie if you said Rafe wasn’t charming and really handsome.

Stella smiled at you and you refrained from giving her a finger. She smiled at you and went back inside, leaving you alone with Rafe. You both look at each other with incomprehension.

You started trying to make conversation with Rafe and he was very polite and nice, you learned that he had transferred here and that he came from a small island that you didn’t know existed, that he was two years older than you and that he liked living in California.

When Stella came back with her stuff and forced you to say goodbye to Rafe, you realized it wasn’t the last time you were going to see each other.

You were right because every time you were there waiting for Stella, he was there, you three were talking while they finished their cigarette. And one day, He asked you to have a date with Him. You were a little scared to go with a boy, but you agreed.

After several meetings, you and Rafe started dating. Rafe was patient and you were grateful for that, it took you seven months of relationship with Rafe to finally have sex.

Rafe had been sweet, you really liked what Rafe was doing to you, he felt so good in you that you didn’t want him to come off.

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This evening Rafe finished his service at 7pm, you planned to go to the restaurant to celebrate your fourties of relations, You had put a black dress that arrived at your calf with a white vest and a small pair of white pumps.

As expected, Rafe and picked you up at 8:30 pm while he prepares. He got out of the car to open the passenger door and help you get his truck. You laughed when her fingers pinched your cheeks giving you a sincere kiss.

You arrived at the restaurant and there were not many people. Some person and waiters, the host brought you to your table, with seen on the sea. Dinner went well, you laughed all along and Rafe was extremely romantic.

It was getting late when Rafe asked for the check, it was time to go home to take care of you, probably tear your dress and have sex until dawn.

When the waiter came, your heart stopped.

 It was there.

His face hadn’t changed, you still didn’t remember his name, but you knew it was him.

how could he act like he was innocent. You started saying nothing and staying silent the rest of the night. On the way home, you didn’t say anything, either, when Rafe tried to put his hand on your thigh, you rejected him. He frowned but said nothing.

When he dropped you off at your house, you made him come spend the night with you.

When you arrived in the apartment, you immediately changed to feel more comfortable, neither you nor Rafe said a word.

You were done brushing your teeth when Rafe came into the bathroom with only pajama pants, he stood behind you and leaned over.

He started pressing his lips into your neck squeezing you against him. You don’t know if you really wanted him to continue but you didn’t reject him.

His venous hand moved to your panties and plunged into it, causing you to moan disproportionately. He grabbed you from the back of your back and legs, he carried you to throw you on the bed.

You wondered if it was too late to tell his that you no longer wanted his hand to start touching you again.

"Ra… hmm" you moaned when two fingers came into you. He took off your top and kissed your breasts, you moaned loudly.

He withdrew from you without warning and you frowned with incomprehension. "Love, I’m still not inside you?" He said like it made sense. "I know, but please be gentle?." You said avoiding his look.

"I’ve always been sweet baby." he says. "I know, but…" you think. "I don’t want to hurt." Rafe looks at you with concern. You have never complained that you had pain during sex and this is normal because you have never had pain.

"Are you sure you want to have sex ?" he asks you to look him in the eye. "What Yes! I.. I’m just afraid you’ll hurt me.." you’re lying.

Rafe nods and takes off his pants, he jerks his dick in his hand before slapping your clitoris with it. 

you moan, He goes inside you and begins to push gently, He moans your name in the hollow of your neck, his hips roll deep. Just like that, Rafe…" you moan, "I know babe, i know." he says, sticking his thumb in your mouth.

You put your legs around his hips to feel him deep down. You close your eyes with pleasure when feeling your orgasm.

Serious mistake because in the space of a second, your rapist is in Rafe’s place.

You open your eyes that are full of tears and start pushing Rafe away. "Go away! Please go away!" you yell at Rafe.

Tears are pouring out at a crazy speed and Rafe withdraws from you in incomprehension.

You put yourself in a fetal position crying." Y/N what’s going on?" Asks Rafe completely panicked.

You cry even harder when you remember. Rafe grabs you and takes you in his arms, you spent an hour crying.

When you finally calmed down, you explained to Rafe what happened to you and what it was like to see him, Rafe was gentle and calm.

He had only one desire: to get high the soo had done this to you, who dared to do that to you?!

he intended to make him regret

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Rafe had just moved in with you.

one night you woke up feeling the need to drink water, you walked out of the room without paying attention to whether Rafe’s side was busy or not.

You walked to the kitchen and the light was on, and there was a figure standing in front of the sink. "Rafe..?" You called. The blond got tense instantly. "Yeah love?" he asked in a hesitant voice. You approached him to see what he was doing. You started to freak out when you saw the front of his shirt smeared with blood on his knuckles.

"What happened, Rafe?" you panicked. Rafe laughed and put his hands on your face. Nothing love, I just did my job, protect my princess." He bends over and kisses you tenderly before forcing you to go to sleep.

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the next day on the news, a man’s body had been found, he had been beaten to death. This man, Caleb was your attacker.

And it was Rafe who took care of his file, strangely he quickly fell into the unimportant business.

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#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks rafe #drew starkey x reader #dark rafe cameron #dark!rafe #rafe smut #rafe cameron x you #officer!rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey smut #drew starkey #Spotify

[fictionalgap]

The Heat

(chapter 1)

Pairing: Chef! Abby Anderson x Cook! Reader

Summary: Abby is a chef and you are a cook working for her. You get distracted everytime she wears someting that shows her arms. Abby gets mad at you because you are not focused on your job.

Warnings: 18+ themes, swearing, sexual themes, nsfw, mdni

Song Recommendation: Delicious - Ruby Amanfu

Inspired by @d3arapril 's post

"Jesus! What's wrong with you?"

You took the potatoes one by one from the floor.

"Sorry, chef."

You got up from the floor, potatoes in your hands. You faced with your new chef for a couple of months, Abby.

You gulped as you cleaned the drops on your face with a cloth you usually tuck it in your pocket.

"Really, what's going on?" She raised her right brow.

"Nothing, chef. " You lied.

Abby sighed heavily. It was damn fucking attractive when she looked like 'she was done with it'.

You were even attracted to her breathing and it was getting really pathetic and serious at this point.

You were attracted to her since you saw her the day you came into this kitchen for job interview.

Her face, her voice, her smell, her presence, the determined and harsh look in her eyes…

Her arms…

It was the very first day of work when you first saw her arms. She was wearing a sleeveless light blue shirt that matched her eyes.

You knew working for her would be an honor. You just had to follow orders.

You thought It wouldn't be hard to follow orders If they are coming from her.

You did as she said without hesitation and quickly. She was pleased with you as much as you can tell.

There were times that you came up with ideas and those shocked her, probably in a good way cause she still didn't fire you and agreed on your adjustments on menu. She didn't comment on them in front of others. It was understandable. Jealously in kitchen caused mobbing.

The problem was, your feelings and your attraction started to grow more and more each day.

You would start to drool on job thinking her fucking you in the pantry against the shelves.

"I am sorry, chef! It won't happen again."

"You said the same thing the last time we talked about this. Do you need a break or-"

"No,no. I am good, chef. I promise!" you tried to convince the woman in front of you.

"Hm…" she made a sound that made your pussy cry for help.

It was really hard to work like this.

"Are you avoiding me?"

"What? No,no chef! Never. What made you think that? " you rambled in a breath with widened eyes.

"You turn around whenever I come... "

"No, no. I'm sorry It looked like that chef." You explained in desperation.

It was true though. You avoided her. How the hell were you supposed to work with this hot woman when she was beside you.

"Hm…" she held her own chin while she was thinking.

"Raymond! You take the order five, too." she told your coworker and pulled your hand to take you outside, to the back of the restaurant.

"Cigarette?"

You nodded and she held you a cigarette and you took it between your fingers.

"Thank you."

She lit up her cigarette and turned to you to lit yours up too.

"Y/N. whats going on? " she let the the smoke out to the side and then turned to you.

You wished she blew the smoke on your face.

You sighed heavily. How could you tell her that she should wear something with sleeves because her arms were so fucking distracting.

Every time she lifted her arm to inhale the smoke your eyes followed her arms.

This time it was too fucking obvious.

"What, is there something on my arm?" She asked obliviously. She looked at her arm then looked at you, questioning.

You blinked to her question. You instinctively licked your lips and gulped without moving your eyes from her arm.

"I-I I uhm I I just I, uhm... "

Her questioning, oblivious face turned into a playful smirk. Her eyes got smaller and shinier. There was something else.

Mischief.

No. . . Something darker.

Yet sweet.

She took a step to you as If she wasn't close enough.

"Now, that can't be the reason you were so distracted for weeks, can't it? " She looked like she was having fun. She looked amused.

You felt bad. Were you just a amusement to her? Something that she will tell her friends when they were hanging out.

Like ' Yeah, there was this girl who couldn't function because she was drooling over my muscles. '

You gulped. You couldn't answer. She started to laugh. She moved over and you could feel her breath over your face. You blinked again an again. Her smell was mesmerizing.

Her eyes darted to your lips and your eyes darted to her lips. You licked your lips.

"Chef! We need you inside! " Raymond came from the kitchen but stopped when he saw you two.

"Ugh.. Uhm I-" His thumb was pointed to the kitchen door. He had a shocked expression on his face.

He must have felt the tension.

"Coming! " Abby growled. Her jaw clenched.

He went back to the kitchen quickly.

She looked into your eyes with a smile.

"Don't worry sweetheart. I'll take care of it."

She did something you didn't expect.

She put her thumb on your lips and caressed them with it.

"I'll take care of everything..." she whispered.

You automatically opened your mouth and she took the advantage of sliding her thumb further into your mouth.

She got closer to your ear and whispered.

"That's all you can get right now. " then she left quickly without taking a look at you.

You looked dumbfounded at the door which is slightly moving back and forth because of Abby's entrance.

'What just happened? ' you breathed heavily.

Taglist: @valenftcrush @elliewilliamsgf69 @hayatistirahati @rubycruzsbitch @kyleeservopoulos @d3arapril @scarletchase1989 @chrry1ovr @scarletchase1989

#abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #lgbtq fanfiction #lgbtq #sapphic #sapphic fanfic #wlw fanfic #wlw #tlou

[talesofesther]

constellations

Samantha Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You give Sam a bit of calmness amidst the storm.

Requested by anon

A/N: Sam deserves the world and I'd happily give it to her.

Masterlist

Prime suspect Samantha Carpenter.

That was the headline displayed on the TV as the reporter blamed Sam for the recent Ghostface attacks.

Lies. They were all lies, and because of those bullshit rumors. It made your blood boil. You know it was the same feeling for the rest of your friends; the living room was quiet as the reporter's voice echoed through. There was an instant heaviness to the air.

Sam picked up the remote and pressed the 'mute' button, before hurrying off to her bedroom.

No one seemed to know quite what to do. The silence was deafening and you felt the eyes of everyone slowly settling on you.

As much as you two might try to keep it on the low, it was no secret anymore that you and Sam had become rather close these past months. Labels were a bit of a stretch, none of you quite ready for it yet. Still, whenever Sam walked back into the dorm she hoped to find you there; she always chose the chair next to yours on the table; and sometimes you'd catch her staring at you, but then again, she also always caught you staring back.

You felt your cheeks burning, maybe the secret was never a secret after all. "I got it," you mumbled under your breath before following the path Sam set.

The door to her room was left ajar, almost as if wanting you to come after her. You held onto your breath when you slowly pushed it open further.

Sam had her back to you, she was looking out her window at the night sky. The cold wind from outside caught onto the wet tracks down her cheeks.

You closed the door behind you and walked up to her. You knew she knew it was you; because she didn't turn around, she didn't talk, she didn't move a muscle. Not until one of your hands touched her waist, nimble fingers barely grazing the fabric of her shirt were enough to send a shiver up and down her body and get her shoulders tensing slightly.

Part of you lived only for these moments. You brought both hands around Sam's waist, hugging her closer and pressing her back to your chest; she was always so warm, each curve of her body fitting with yours as if you were part of the same constellation, bound to always be linked; you felt how Sam found your hand with hers, messily intertwining your fingers at the same time your lips met the skin on her shoulder. Just you and her.

No words were needed for a few moments. You were content to exist in each other's presence.

Eventually, Sam turned around in your embrace, her eyes were downcast; as if shame tugged at her heartstrings for things she didn't do.

You tried to find her eyes and brought a hand up to rest against her cheek. The pad of your thumb found a teardrop there, and one more soon followed the same path. You brushed them away with all the tenderness you knew she deserved.

"None of it is true," you breathed, "we all know it."

With the ghost of a movement, Sam leaned forward. The plea was barely there but you've been getting good at reading her. You met her halfway for a chaste kiss, your lips soft against her slightly chapped ones.

She pulled away with a gulp, her tongue running over her bottom lip to try and capture the feeling of you. "Still, it sucks being this hated."

You'd never heard her voice quite this broken, this vulnerable. Her dark eyes were shining with the cheap light of her bedroom, a little red-rimmed yet still the most gentle you've ever seen.

How anyone could ever see her as a bad person was beyond you.

Her hair was silky between your fingers when you pushed it behind her ear. "Lay down with me?"

There was an adorable furrow to Sam's eyebrows and you wanted to trap this moment like a spider in a glass.

"We'll figure out the details later." You promised.

It was all that was needed, maybe all she'd been wanting all along, because Sam melted in your hold; her body mostly laying on top of yours as you snuggled in her bed. Her arms came around your waist in a hold so strong that almost constricted your breathing. But you didn't comment on it.

Sam's cheek was resting just above your heart, and the steady beating was sure to lull her to sleep in no time.

Your fingers buried themselves between her hair as you'd occasionally press a kiss to her forehead.

It was the calmness amidst the storm and there were three words stuck in Sam's throat. Because there you were, tangled up in all her broken pieces, and all you wanted to do was stay.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Sam’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #samcarpenteredit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #sam carpenter fanfic #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader #my story

[superblysubpar]

masterlist | the music

15.8k words | This is an 18+ NSFW series | A/N at the end

You’ve done bad things in your life. Tiny, inconsequential sorts of things in the grand scheme of the universe. Small white lies told to spare feelings or cut corners like letting your mom believe you liked her haircut or using spark notes in high school instead of reading the assigned chapters. Granted there have been several spiteful moments like allowing your boss to go into a meeting with lipstick on her teeth. 

It’s all relatively normal though, never more than a tick on the good versus bad meter. You’ve always known that deep down you’re a good person. 

You’re not so sure anymore. 

The orange flicker of the quickly melting candles illuminates your flushed skin. Chipping polished fingers clamp your ruined underwear against the countertop you lean on. Chest heaving as you try to get your breathing under control. Steve’s next to you, thigh almost touching yours. His white top has a new button undone, his gold chain and the start of his sweat matted chest hair on full display now - catching the light, glistening with every flicker of the flame. You hate that the sight is almost enough to distract you from your predicament, that it makes you wish you hadn’t been interrupted. 

Eddie leans against the wall across from the two of you. His arms folded over his chest, black tshirt stretched across muscles almost as tight as his clenched jaw. His large brown eyes dance between yours and Steve’s. Eyes that give his true feelings away - as his mouth ticks up into a judging smirk, those eyes are pools of hurt. The confidence you had witnessed all day quickly draining from them as he peers at you. 

Tongue jutting out to lick his lips as he throws his hands up, “Jesus fucking Christ, will one of you say something?”

Your mouth opens as Steve’s fingers rub at his temples before sliding into his hair with a long huff of breath through his nose. Steve speaks before you’re able to force any words out of your parted lips. “Well, now you know. We can talk about it later. Let’s get out of here,” the last part directed to you. Not a question, but it doesn’t feel like a command either. It’s a request. 

Something in his tone, the way Steve’s hazel eyes plead with yours makes your heartbeat turn rapid again - throbbing in your ears. Your entire body kicks into overdrive, alcohol mixing with adrenaline and thoughts of what all of this means for you and Steve. 

Steve’s eyebrows raise at you expectantly, and Eddie’s voice is soft as he speaks to you, “So you were just using me to get him, right? Make him jealous? None of that was…”

Eddie straightens as he trails off. Eyebrows pinched together, cheek pulled between teeth in thought. Stepping towards him, you shake your head vigorously. Feeling like you’re being ripped in half. “No, Eddie, I promise you, I-” faltering on how to explain it all, to ease some of the hurt you caused, you push out, “We were already sleeping together and-”

Eddie’s gaze shoots over to Steve, eyes settling into a harsh glare as his finger shoves into Steve’s chest. Steve’s eyes roll as his shoulders do the same at Eddie’s hiss, “Dude. I straight up asked you if you were into her or had anything going on and you said no and that Robin-”

“Well we are and we do, so.” Steve shrugs, too casual about it all. He swats Eddie’s finger away like it’s an annoying gnat and not attached to the friend he lied to. The two boys sit in a staring contest, jaw’s clenched and eyes darkening and your blood boils from the words exchanged and Steve’s attitude. Your adrenaline tipping from flight to fight as you watch Steve push out his chest and Eddie take a step closer, shaking his head slightly. 

Your eyes turn on Steve, “Hold on. We’re not together.” Eddie’s gaze flicks to you as you keep speaking, anger rising rapidly in you. “We’re friends with benefits. Fuck buddies. Eddie, I absolutely was flirting with you and if I want to sleep with you, that’s none of Steve’s god damn business and-”

A knock on the door stops you from continuing. Steve’s jaw twitches, tongue licking his top lip as he narrows his eyes at you. 

“Y/N?” Nancy’s voice echoes through the door, softening to a whisper, “Guys, come on. I know all three of you are in there and Robin is wondering where-”

She stops as you open the door, meeting her thin lipped smile and too insightful for their own good eyes. 

“Sorry,” whispering as you brush past her. For sleeping with Steve? For pulling her into this mess somehow? For lying to your best friend and her girlfriend? You don’t even know anymore. 

Music grows louder as you wander down the hallway, clenching your fist tighter around your underwear. Risking a glance over your shoulder to see Nancy and Steve arguing, Eddie’s eyes dancing between them before catching yours. 

Any urge to fight, any anger, it disappears, lost in the smoke that fills the room and you’re desperate to get out of there. Technicolor lights swirl as the bass thumps through speakers and you maneuver your way through the small crowd. Front door almost within your reach as an arm slinks between yours and your side, hooking and yanking you to a stop. A voice attached to the arm you’re dreading to face, especially after they ask, “Hey, do you have something to tell me?”

Her words fill you with ice, toes numb and a chill down your spine. Looking up, you’re not met with anger but a smile that thaws you. Robin isn’t mad, she’s beaming and you’re wondering why when she glances over her shoulder. 

Eddie leans against the wall, smiling and nodding towards the two of you as he lifts a red solo cup. He must have told her something else with the way Robin is looking at you. Your stomach twists as Robin smiles wider, her dimple popping out. Her hands find your shoulders, blue eyes sparkling as her voice sings, “Girl talk. Wine. Cookies. Now. Let’s blow this popsicle stand, babe.”

“Robin, I-”

She shakes her head, pressing a finger over your lips as she shushes you, “Let me say goodbye to Nance and it’ll just be me and you the rest of the night, kay?”

Robin’s smile is so genuine and over her shoulder you see Steve looking around the room, clearly searching for you. Eyes connecting with yours finally, you feel nauseous as he quickly shoves in and out of groups making his way towards you. Forcing a smile, you look at Robin and nod. “Okay, I’ll be outside. I need some fresh air.”

Robin claps, happy with her victory. She weaves her way towards the kitchen, stopping Steve and gesturing to you before bouncing over to Nancy. Steve continues to make his way towards you and as hard as you try to exit and slam the door in his face, his hand catches your shoulder as you slip outside. 

Shrugging him off harshly, you focus all of your attention on your phone screen, pulling up Uber. 

“Can we talk?”

Steve’s voice is soft, straining to be heard over the bass from inside and it makes you peer up from your screen. His hands are in his back pockets of his dark jeans, hair a mess and sticking to his sweaty forehead. Brows knitting together and a frown on his lips - you can’t stand how sad and confused he looks. Does he not understand why you’re mad? Why this is all so wrong?

Why is this all so wrong?

Your brain is screaming at your body to run, yet everything in you wants to fight with Steve until you’re breathless. If you talk, if you fight right now, you’re both going to say things you can’t take back. On the other hand, if you run, if you push him away further, perhaps you’ll never say some things you probably should. 

“Not now, Steve.”

“But, I-”

Your glare is harsh, voice ice as you repeat yourself, “Not now, Steve.”

He narrows his eyes again, hazel that’s normally soft and sticky turning amber and hard. Jaw clenching as he rocks back onto his heels. Clearly Steve wants to fight as he shakes his head, mumbling under his breath, “You’re really unbelievable.”

Phone dropping to your side, you turn to face him fully, disbelief filling your features, “I’m unbelievable? Me? Were you just in the same bathroom? Were we at the same beach today? Or how about last night, Steve? Was that a different guy who-”

“You liked all of it, so don’t even-”

That stupid gravitational pull you seem to have with each other back at work again, your bodies moving closer to one another without meaning to, chests almost touching. Hands tightening into fists at your sides, you tilt your chin up at him, “Oh, and you know what I like?”

Steve laughs cooly, fingers tugging in his hair with a groan. His voice rises, dripping in exasperation, “That’s a ridiculous question and you know that! And what, you’re trying to tell me that you wanted Eddie to-”

“Who cares what I wanted Eddie to do Steve!” Your resolve to not fight fully breaking as your voice does the same, “That’s the point! It’s none of your business who I’m fucking or not, or have you forgotten that little part of the deal?”

Steve groans, grabbing at your forearms and scoffing, “I care! And it’s stupid of you to expect me not to!”

Your faces are close enough that if anyone were watching, they’d think a kiss was about to happen. Steve’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and both of your breaths quicken. Mint and rum on your lips mingling with citrus and beer on his breath. His eyes watch your mouth as you lick your top lip, swallowing harshly before hitting him with a final blow. 

“I’m not yours.”

Something in Steve’s eyes shifts once more, amber shattering and turning to cold and hard granite. A fake smile tugs on his lips, it’s all far too emotionless and nothing like the Steve you know as he tilts his head, whispering, “Not what you just said in the bathroom, babe.”

Your fingers itch to slap him at the same time your body betrays you, pussy clenching around nothing.

Steve smirks, knowing all of your tells. His mouth hovers over yours as his fingers squeeze your arms, “You can’t have it both ways.” 

A part of you wants to keep fighting, but what are you even fighting about anymore? How can you be mad at him, when you’re just as much to blame. He’s not wrong, you can’t make him jealous and then be upset with him when he acts on the feeling. It’s just a day full of too much sun, delusions and decisions fueled by rum. 

Before you can do or say anything more that you’re sure to regret later, the front door opens and saves the two of you. Steve’s hands drop from your arms as Robin’s head turns inside, laughing at someone’s departing words for her. She turns and skips down the stairs as you and Steve step further apart. Eyes on the sidewalk as the tension that has been surrounding you both pops like a bubble. 

Robin slows, her eyes lingering on Steve as she asks, “Everything okay?”

Steve looks up at her, nodding once before smiling and backing away. “Yup. Never better. Have a good girl’s night.”

He turns on his heel quickly, walking in the opposite direction he needs to go. Robin watches him with a frown, her lip pulling between her teeth as her arms cross. His fading figure’s shoulders sink, head turned down as she tilts hers. Holding your breath as her eyebrows furrow.

“He’s been so weird all week. And he was fighting with Nancy like, three times today. You don’t think…” she trails off, tugging on her fingers and shaking her head. “Maybe something’s going on with them? Maybe he’s not as cool with it all as he said he was? I should go…”

Your fingers are pruny from the guilt you’re swimming in as you quickly shake your head, shutting down the train she’s gotten herself on. “No, no, no, Robs, “ at a loss for words, you just repeat yourself firmer, “No. That’s not it at all. He…I don’t know. We were fighting about something stupid. You should just hang out with him, maybe he misses having you all to himself, okay? First me, then Nancy, now Eddie’s back. He probably just misses his best friend, you know?”

Unable to stop yourself, the lies build and build as you drown in the waves of guilt that knock you down repeatedly. Your chest tightens, suffocating and choking as it all pulls you under while she nods and hums, “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Robin doesn’t look too convinced, but turns to you and smiles, a little forced but she takes a deep breath. “God, he’s not the boy we need to talk about right now anyways.” Her eyebrows raise before she continues and steps towards the Uber pulling up, “Eddie asked me for your number inside and I’m betting my next paycheck it has something to do with the undergarment in your hand there?”

Your hand quickly moves behind your back, but it’s too late and she cackles, “Oh my god, tell me everything!”

Phone buzzing in your hand as you both slide into the car. Robin squeals and makes grabby hands for it, “Oh, oh, oh, he’s already messaging you?!” 

The unknown number’s message fills the screen and you’re not quick enough to lock it before she sees:

Robin frowns, looking up at you, “Your side of what?”

“Oh, uh, Steve and I…he…” you’re fumbling, about to just blurt it all out when Robin groans. 

“I was hoping he wouldn’t find out.”

“What?” You blink at her, sweating palms wiped on the hem of your dress. 

Robin sighs, leaning her temple against the backseat as she turns her body towards yours. Waving her hand around as she speaks, “You know, that Steve and you slept together,” she shakes her head a little, smiling, “So weird still. Anyways. As confident as Eddie may appear, it’s always a competition with those two and Eddie…” she trails off, voice softening to a whisper, “Well, let’s just say Eddie wasn’t as popular in school as Steve was.”

Your head falls back against the headrest hard. Any remorse you were feeling for being mad at Steve vanishes. Steve knew what he was doing, how Eddie would feel. He knew how risky the bathroom stunt was and he didn’t seem to be ashamed in the slightest of being caught. Bitterness sits on your tongue as you remember how you felt in the bathroom as the boys sat in their staring contest. Steve doesn’t seem to care about the rules anymore, and you hate that you let yourself sort of forget them too. Steve was right. You can’t have it both ways. 

This is exactly what was not supposed to happen. It was supposed to be fun. No one was supposed to be hurt. You never thought you’d be the one to ignore your own rules, to feel the pit in your stomach at the thought of losing Steve. Your stringless fling seems to have quickly tied itself into a tangled knot in less than a day. 

Robin pats your thigh, smiling softly, mistaking your quiet for worry about Eddie. “Hey, you’ll tell him it’s all good. You and Steve are just friends. It’ll all work itself out, right?”

Humming in a sort of agreement as the Uber pulls up to your apartment, you pause on the sidewalk as you get out. Something gnawing at you. “Hey, Robs?”

She turns, smiling as she holds the door open, “What’s up?”

“Why…” you falter, unsure if you should ask. Her eyebrows raise in wait for your question. 

Opening the door to the stairs, you frown and ask, “Why are you excited something happened with Eddie and I? Why do you want something to happen with us, but not…”

You’re worried asking might lead to her reading too much into it but she shrugs, unbothered. “Steve? I don’t know. I think Eddie’s more your type,” she ticks off on her fingers, “He’s a lot more go with the flow, he hasn’t stayed in one place for more than a year since high school. He’s not looking to be tied down, and Steve is. Steve always is,” she rolls her eyes as she starts on the stairs, continuing, “I think you both have a lot in common, like reading today on the beach, same sense of humor. I don’t know, Eddie and you just make more sense to me, I guess? Steve and you are so different. Different worlds. Want different things. It was never gonna work, and I love you both and didn’t want to see that happen.”

What she’s saying makes sense, but why does it hurt a little?

She stops on one landing, hands on her hips, “I mean, the Dingus is great, but dude would be a total mess if you broke his heart, whereas you’d probably be fine? Eddie just handles heartbreak better in the end, and he also isn’t one to fall easily. You’d be able to still be friends if it doesn’t work out is what I’m saying. Casual and easy going are Eddie and yours shared middle names, ya know?”

“Right,” you agree quietly.

She turns to continue on the last flight, voice echoing up the stairwell, “So, I think it’s an ‘I Think You Should Leave Night.’ I need some Tim Robinson. Did I tell you that Nancy had never seen it? I…”

She trails off, explaining how she introduced Nancy to the show and you stare at your phone, sending a message to Eddie with the address to a coffee shop around the corner. Maybe you should have trusted Robin’s insight into these relationships from the start.

She knew right away Steve and you would end in failure and hurt and it was silly of you to think the two of you could avoid the kind of people you are. Fundamentally different, and not meant to be together for a reason, you’re sure. 

Your phone buzzes again as you enter the apartment, Robin already pulling out cookie trays. You turn your phone off without responding. 

Ice clinks together as Eddie’s fingers swirl his straw in the coffee in front of him. His eyes remain on the drink, tracking the faintest swirl of milk, lips downturned in a frown as you gnaw on the ripped skin of your thumb. 

He’s been silent for a full minute, since you finished explaining everything. He agreed to meet you at the coffee shop before brunch with the group. You’re hopeful to just move on, to forget about Steve. Maybe it would have worked out with Eddie and you if you hadn’t created this mess. Maybe it still could. You almost forgot about Steve fully when Eddie showed up in dark wash jeans, chain hanging loosely at his hip. A burnt orange shirt snug across his shoulders and chest where his waves hung down. Framing his dazzling smile that went straight to your lungs and pulled your breath out and away. 

Eddie finally blows out a long exhale, palms dragging down his cheeks as he groans. “Shit, this is a fucking mess.”

“Mhm,” you hum, sipping your own coffee. 

He folds his arms on the table and leans forward, frowning, “I don’t…I don’t understand why Robin talked my ear off for like four fucking hours about you though. That’s what I meant when I said I’d tell her last night, Steve knew she was trying to set us up.” He rolls his eyes and continues, “If she didn’t want you two together, why does she want us?”

Your fingers fold and unfold the straw wrapper in front of you, shoulders falling as you slump down in your chair further. “Right? I asked her that last night. Let’s just say I’m not a huge fan of relationships and she thought you’d be the perfect fit for…” you twist your lips and narrow your eyes as you search for the right words, “The lifestyle? I tend to lead.”

Eddie smirks but it quickly turns to a grimace around his straw. He leans back in his chair and picks at the chipping paint on the table. “You too, huh? Who broke your heart?”

Surprised at his question, the paper wrapper rips in your fingers and your brow furrows, “I…no one. It’s a long story.” Waving your hand at him, you try to brush off the question and he raises his eyebrows and you huff out an annoyed breath. Something tells you he’s not one to give up easily, perhaps just as stubborn as you are. “I just know happy endings are few and far between, why put yourself through all of that pain for maybe a chance of it working out. Plus I’m very happy being single.”

He watches you curiously. “Happy or just complacent?”

Rolling your eyes, you sigh. Squinting at him as you sip your coffee. “I’m happy. I think assuming I’m not because I’m not in a relationship or searching for love is some 1950s bullshit. I love the life that I’ve made for myself, without anyone’s help.”

Eddie’s lips twist into a smirk as he narrows his eyes playfully. “I see why he likes you.”

Frowning, you fiddle with your straw. “Steve doesn’t like me like that. He likes having sex with me.”

Eddie laughs, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, I can tell you right now, that’s not Stevie. He likes you. A lot. Wouldn’t have pulled that crap yesterday if he didn’t.”

Your stomach twists. That’s the problem, isn't it? 

Shaking your head back at him you snap, not mean, but not warm either. “Well, that’s too bad. Deal’s off. I’m sleeping with other people.”

Eddie leans forward again, arms resting on the table and his eyebrows disappear under his bangs, “Other people, huh?”

You mirror his posture, arms close to his as you smile, “Yeah, have anyone you can set me up with?”

He laughs, throwing his head back. He shakes his head, curls falling across his shoulders as he watches you closely before speaking, “Steve will never forgive me princess, sorry.”

Falling back in the chair dramatically, you sigh. Ignoring his comment about Steve. “Damn. I thought you were supposed to be the bad boy of my dreams?”

Eddie laughs again, and you decide you really like the sound of it. It’s warm and comes from his chest, you can tell smiling and laughing comes easy to him when he’s around the right people. 

He sips at his coffee and then drums his fingers on the table, tongue licking his top lip, “Well, normally I’d say fuck it. Cause you’re real cute,” he winks at you and you laugh, he shakes his head no again, “But I’m afraid that you’re different. You may actually be the one to cause a fistfight, sweetheart, and I can’t afford to marr the merchandise - it’s all I got going for me.”

He pats at his cheek and you laugh at his theatrics. “Well that’s just not true. I’ve known you for only a day and I can already confidently say you have a lot more going for you than looks Eddie.”

Eddie bats his eyelashes at you, false embarrassment, but you don’t miss the way his cheeks turn slightly pink. 

Acting on instinct, you reach forward and grab his hand, “But really, the offer will stand if you ever decide to risk it. I mean, Robin thought it’d work, right?”

He smiles, squeezing your fingers, “True. But Steve-”

Groaning, you fall backwards again, letting his hand slip from yours, “Is a big boy and will get over it.”

Eddie snorts, fingers tapping at the table again. Eyes avoiding yours as he speaks, “That’s cute. Will you?”

“Will I what?”

Eddie looks up again, big brown eyes peering directly into your soul it seems as he asks, “Will you get over Steve?”

His question makes your limbs feel heavy, heart pounding, as you choke out, “Eddie, I don’t-”

He rolls his eyes, “Yeah you do,” he stands, nodding his head towards the door, “Come on, you can tell me all about why you refuse to let him love you on the walk to brunch.”

Chest tightening as you watch him start to walk away, somehow Eddie can read you quickly, knocking some of the stones you surround yourself with loose. Maybe the universe does know what it’s doing, it certainly did when it gave you Robin. Perhaps you were meant to meet all of these friends at this time in your life. Was it okay to let yourself be open? To let some light in through the cracks in your wall?

Eddie waits and beckons you with his hand, dragging out his words, “Come on, you can do it.” He grins, holding one of his hands up like he’s swearing in an oath, “I’ll even tell you my tale of doomed love first. Cheerleader dating the freak. Real star crossed lovers kind of shit. It’s pretty damn heartbreaking if I do say so myself.”

He bows as you stand, extending his arm for you to walk out first and you do. Feeling a little less alone, a little less pessimistic about the world and love as you listen to him tell you all about a girl named Chrissy on the walk to Benny’s. 

“I’m really sorry, Eddie,” you whisper as he finishes his story.

He shrugs, straw squeaking as he sucks the last of his coffee dry, kicking a loose stone as you wait at the crosswalk. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Done lot’s of healing up here,” he taps on his temple and then his heart, “And here. Now,” he spins, eyes big and lips forming a pout as he pokes your cheek, “I think I’m owed your story.”

As you take a deep breath, maybe you will tell him actually, Robin’s voice sings from behind you, “Well, well, well! Looks like some people have had quite a morning already!”

Eddie and you turn, rolling your eyes almost in sync and Robin beams. You all know she slept over last night, and was there still this morning when you left for coffee. It’s not Robin you look at right away though, but Steve, who stands just behind her and Nancy. His eyes are on yours and Eddie’s coffee cups before they meet yours. 

The light changes and Steve’s eyes fall to the ground again, passing by you silently. Eddie leans in close and whispers in your ear, “Yeah, what was that thing about him getting over it?”

Brunch is uncomfortable after that to say the least. Eddie and you end up squished together all thanks to Robin’s insistence that you can all squeeze into the booth. But, you can’t, leaving Steve in a chair pulled up on the end, dodging elbows of the staff carrying trays to the busy diner patrons. Finding it hard not to stare at the way his muscles flex under his plain white t-shirt or the way his neck extends, exposing his freckles and moles with every turn. 

His eyes catch you staring at one point and your gaze quickly drops to your plate, hands becoming busy with your coffee mug. Your stomach finds the giant waffle in front of you unappetizing. Eddie nudges your knee while offering a reassuring smile as Nancy watches all three of you over the rim of her coffee. 

Robin is oblivious to it all, chattering about her and Nancy’s trip next weekend, the football game coming up, and Eddie’s band potentially booking a gig for the Halloween party following it. 

“Wait, we’ve barely hit September, Halloween?” Eddie shoves pancakes into his cheek as he speaks. 

“In Chicago, Halloween is the entire month. So, in two weeks, October 1st equals Halloween season officially, baby!” Robin rubs her hands together like an evil genius before continuing, “Costume contests and bar crawls, horror movie trivia and marathons, oh my god all the Rocky Horror showings. It’s the best freaking time of the year.”

Nancy grimaces and Steve smiles for the first time all morning. “Have fun. Extremely happy to let you inherit the responsibility that is Robin for the month of October.” He removes an invisible hat from his head and pops it onto Nancy’s.

She smiles widely at him.  “Wow, King Steve removing his crown?”

“Only for those worthy.” He winks and they laugh about something you don’t understand, remembering you’re the outsider of this little group. Your chest burns from the thought of them together, the history they have. A bitter taste fills your mouth and it’s not from the coffee. Swallowing harshly as you push down whatever is brewing inside of you - definitely not jealousy. 

Robin rolls her eyes, responding dryly, “Ha-ha,” she takes the invisible crown and places it on her own head, sticking her tongue out at Steve. 

Eddie leans across the booth stealing it, “Oh no, I’ve wanted this bad boy since High School!” Robin and Eddie pretend to play tug of war with the invisible inside joke. Feeling yourself fading into the vinyl seats of the booth as they all reminisce about a particular Halloween from high school. Something about a party at Steve’s, pure fuel, and Eddie and Robin being higher than kites while they TP’d Steve’s backyard. 

Nancy covers her mouth in shock, “That was you guys?!” 

The two fall over in a fit of giggles and Nancy shakes her head, throwing a wadded up napkin at their faces. A smile sits on your lips as you poke at your waffle. A bump to your knee has you looking up to find Steve watching you, his eyebrows furrowed. Standing as you offer a shrug of your shoulders. 

Robin stops Nancy and Eddie from their loud boos about something, waving her hands, “Wait, where are you going?”

Your thumb hooks over your shoulder, “I’m gonna head home, I’m not feeling so hot, probably just too much sun yesterday.”

“I can walk you,” Eddie starts to get up and you motion for him to sit.

“It’s like a block away, I’m fine, promise. Catch up! You haven’t had the chance yet.”

Robin smiles at you, but it doesn’t meet her eyes as she tilts her head. Eddie nods once, sitting back down. Grabbing your receipt and quickly leaving the table with a wave. As you wait for the hostess to return to the register, the receipt is plucked from your fingers and Steve is next to you. 

A roll of your eyes as you huff a breath out of your nose, “Steve, give me my receipt.”

“Oh my god, so you can talk to me. Was worried I left my secret invisibility cloak on.”

He leans against the counter, chin resting in his palm as he raises his eyebrows. Shrugging your shoulders, you avoid his gaze. “Nothing to talk about,” you reach for the receipt again and he holds it away from you. Gritting through clenched teeth, “I can pay for myself.”

“I know you can, but it’s okay to let people do something for you sometimes.”

“It’s not sometimes with you Steve, you do it all the time. I don’t want your money - “ 

“You could just say thank you,” he rolls his eyes, “It doesn’t mean anything. Does it really bother you that much?”

“Yeah, it does, I’m able to pay for myself and I don’t need someone to provide for me.”

Steve stands up taller, crossing his arms as his voice lowers, “Probably didn’t have a problem letting Eddie provide you with your coffee this morning.”

Rolling your eyes again, you snort, snatching the receipt and leaning in closer. “Actually, not that it’s any of your business, but I bought his coffee to apologize to my friend for yesterday.”

Steve smirks, ripping the receipt from your fingers again, “Right, and I’m your friend offering to buy your breakfast.”

“If you were my friend, then you wouldn’t be acting like this,” your fingers graze his as you reach for the ticket again, and he closes his fist around it tighter. Your voice grows weak as you continue, “What are we doing Steve.”

His shoulders relax slightly and he sighs, blowing his breath out through his nose as he turns towards the counter. It wasn’t phrased as a question, but he answers anyways, “I don’t know. You tell me. You seem to want to call all the shots right? When we talk, when we don’t, when we fuck and who we tell.”

Your gaze jumps over to the booth, everyone caught up in conversation thankfully and you exhale. Turning on your heel, choosing that some battles are not worth fighting. Your armor has received far too many dents and you can’t afford to rebuild it again. 

“Not anymore,” you mumble to him as you try not to focus on the way his shoulders fall further or the wetness that pools on your lash line. 

The city transitions from Summer to Autumn in less than a week. Trees lining your neighborhood turn from green to yellows and reds. The air becomes cooler, easier to take deep breaths and be open to the change the season promises. Your fingers trail along the brick of an old building as you walk towards your favorite pizza place. Rounding the corner, you nearly smack into someone.

“Oh, sorry, I-”

“I’m so sorry-”

Steve stands in front of you and both trail off as you realize it’s each other. You almost didn’t recognize him with a black baseball hat on, tight black shirt and light wash jeans. It’s probably the most casual you’ve seen him and  you swallow harshly. Neither of you have messaged and you hate how much you wish he would have. 

He shoves his hands in his pockets, twisting his lips up while squinting. “Hey, I was just coming to see if you were done avoiding me.”

A flip switched, your annoyance with him returns easily. Rolling your eyes as you push past him. “I’m not avoiding you.”

He spins to follow you, dragging out his word, “Riiight.” He kicks a pebble as he falls into step with you, “So, if you’re not avoiding me, let’s go back to your place and hang out. Maybe get Red Hot-”

Stopping abruptly, Steve nearly trips on his own feet as he comes to a halt next to you. Your arms cross as you look up at him, “Steve, I thought it was clear that the arrangement was over.”

He nods once, licking his lips before smiling, “I meant actual Red Hot Ranch, get your mind out of the gutter.” He’s trying to joke, but his tone is forced - like he’s speaking while holding his breath and it makes your chest hurt. 

Steve runs his hand through his hair before his arm falls to his side, “Seriously, I just…I’m sorry. About everything. And I miss my…friend?”

He lets the last word hang as a question. Debating if you can actually move on, you look up at the sky. You’re sure if you and Steve can get through this awkward sort of scramble to fix the mess you’ve made, you can be friends and end up happy. 

You want to move on from Steve, right?

Raising your arm, you gesture in the direction you had been heading in, speaking softly, “I was just on my way to Argyle’s, if you can handle sharing a pizza with a friend who likes olives?”

Steve’s lips twitch into a lopsided smile, remembering how the two of you met. He sighs dramatically before walking towards the bar, “Only if you agree to let me absolutely crush you at ski-ball at Replay after.”

A demolished pizza, a train ride, and several beers later, Steve is cupping his ear with his hand, a gloating grin on his lips as he asks, “How many games is that?”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff into the bottle and spin, scanning the barcade. It’s 80s theme this month, so while the front of the place is normal - pinball and arcade games - the people mingling about and heading to the back themed portion of the bar are decked out in neon, legwarmers, and dizzying patterns. An 80s playlist booms overhead mixing with dings of the pinball machines and chatter of bar goers. 

Your fingers tap on the side of your bottle and nod towards the machines, “You know, all of these are free and yet, I’ve never seen you play. Someone too chicken to lose at something he might not be the best at?”

Steve smirks around the lip of his bottle, “I’ll play you on any machine in here. Still gonna win.”

You’ve missed this with him, the banter and fun. No pressure and no feelings. Although, is it really without feelings when his cocky attitude is a turn on, because now you know how it translates into the bedroom? Will you ever be able to separate the two versions of Steve?

Spinning once more, you land on a Goonies themed free machine, you tap your fingers on the glass and face him, “Care to make it interesting?”

He leans against it, smiling. “What’d you have in mind?”

“If I win, I get to pay for the next round,” you point your finger thinking, “And the next dinner we have together!”

He shrugs, sipping his bear, “Fine. If I win, I pay for the next round, dinner next time we’re out, and I get to come over for a movie tonight. My choice.”

“Fine,” you narrow your eyes.

“Great,” he smiles wider. 

Suspicious with how easy he agreed to let you pay for something if you won, you gesture towards the game. “You go first.”

Steve hands you his beer, cracking his knuckles as he speaks, “Prepare to lose.”

Steve releases the ball, standing tall in front of the pinball machine, confident with his legs spread slightly, shoulders rolled back. You hate that your eyes travel to his butt and up his back, swallowing a drink of your beer as you reach his neck, his concentration present on his face under the baseball hat that you’re quickly wishing he’d wear more often. Watching as his long fingers press the buttons on the side of the game with quick and precise moves, his eyes roam over the glass, unmoving from the game as he smirks. “You didn’t read the names on the screen did you?” 

Flashing lights distract you from his face and fingers, turning towards the screen, Steve’s score trailing across it in bright red, then the list of top five scores appear where you see ‘Dingus’ and ‘Other Dingus’ as the top two names. 

Groaning, you close your eyes, “What?!”

He laughs, “Robs and I came here like every night when we first moved to the city and worked at that burger place just down the road.”

Steve pats your shoulder and when you open your eyes he’s smiling with fake sympathy, “I think I’m gonna make you watch a rom com tonight.”

Your groan grows in volume and you face the machine, shoving the two beers into his hands, “Bite me, Steven.”

Steve takes a sip of his beer, only to choke on it as you pull the lever and the ball immediately falls down the center. Brushing it off, you start on the second one, only for Steve to wince when you press the lever at just the wrong moment, sending the ball careening around the board with no way to control it or anticipate when it’ll drop again. 

He sets the beers down, holding up his hands, “Okay, hold on, hold on. I wanna win, but in a fair fight. This is pathetic.”

Steve comes up behind you, you hold your breath as his hands hover over yours, arms on either side of you and he whispers, “Can I help show you something?”

Worried your voice is going to betray you, you just nod and Steve steps closer. His head to the side of yours, cheeks almost touching as his fingers land above your own. He watches as your first ball goes ping ponging around the board again, laughing a little as you stick your tongue out and jab at the buttons. He whispers close to your ear, “You’re hitting it at the right time, just too quick and choppy. You gotta take a deep breath before hitting the button, relax your body.”

The heat of Steve’s face next to yours, his chest just touching your back, it’s melting you, words he’s saying fried on impact in your brain like an egg on a sidewalk. You couldn’t take his advice if you tried, the instructions gone from your thoughts as your body betrays you, underwear growing slick between your thighs.  

“Show me?” you squeak out and out of the corner of your eyes you see his lips tip up on one side in a smile. Will Steve be able to ignore your tells, will he ever be able to separate the two versions of you either? 

The second ball releases, Steve’s fingers lace with yours over the buttons, he whispers, “Okay, deep breath,” you feel his chest expand against you, feel his breath hit your neck as he turns to face you instead of the game, “Now.”

His fingers press yours into the button gently, his nose brushing up your neck slowly and the ball hitting the exact spot you wanted and you spin to face him, ignoring the game. “I-”

A girl comes out of the bright pink bathroom, mascara on her cheeks and blowing her nose loudly and interrupting any moment you two were just having. Her friend wraps her arm around her. “He’s an idiot.”

“Why doesn’t he love me!” She wails, swiping at her nose with toilet paper another girl hands her. The two friends on either side of the crying girl communicate silently with their eyes. One touches her finger to her nose before the other can, holding her hands up in surrender. 

Steve’s eyes meet yours, shimmering with held back laughter and you cover your smile with your fingers. He leans in closer, lips brushing your ear and you hate that you shiver as he speaks, “You are so not laughing.”

“No! He’s gonna be my husband!” The clearly drunk girl hiccups and the friend who didn’t tap her nose quick enough whispers, “Babe, you met him last week on tinder.”

An unstoppable snort leaves you and your shoulders shake, forehead pressing to his chest. 

“Hey! What’s so funny assholes?” The one girl directs towards the two of you. 

The sad girl hits her friend's shoulder, “Don’t be mean, they’re clearly in…lo...love!” She starts crying harder and Steve’s shoulders start to shake too, his hand grabbing yours and pulling you back into the themed part of the bar. 

He drags his palm down his cheek, laughing still, “Not funny. It’s not funny.”

Straightening, you form a serious face, mashing your lips together. “Right. Not funny.”

Your eyes meet and your laughter bursts out of you again, wiping your eyes as you lean against each other. 

Steve shakes his head, removing his hat for a second to run his hand through his hair, before adjusting the cap. His shirt rises a little, exposing the line of dark hair that runs under the waistband of his jeans. Your laughter dies off, eyes trying to look anywhere but there.   

He motions to the bar, grinning as he asks “I believe I get to get the next round?”

Rolling your eyes, you shoo him away, leaning against a small unoccupied table. As you wait for him to return, you’re lost in people watching and admiring the decorations. Replay does not hold back when it comes to a theme, specific and hidden nods to the decade surround you as you watch the groups and couples enjoying themselves. Some clearly on first dates, or new to seeing each other. Lots of sipping of drinks, nodding, restless hands and standing not too close to each other. Then there’s those that your chest twinges a little as you watch them. The couple at one of the tables with arms around each other, laughing and kissing temples. The two that come out of the photobooth catch your attention the most. They’re giggling, stealing kisses and holding hands, waiting as their pictures print. Their heads lean together as one of them squeals, “Aww, babe!”

The bump of your drink against the wood tabletop pulls you away, Steve watching you curiously, he raises his eyebrows, “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I just didn’t know people actually did photo booths anymore. Or like, got excited about them. Never done it before.” Shrugging as you take a sip. 

Steve’s mouth falls open, “You’ve never…Come on.”

He’s pulling you over despite your protests, sitting down and waiting for you. He rolls his eyes and pats his thigh, “Not like you haven’t sat on my thigh before.”

“Jesus, Steve.” Hissing at him as you sit, swiping the curtain closed behind you. 

The space is even smaller than it looks, and it takes Steve and you a second to find a comfortable position. Your elbow bumps the wall as you try to sneak it around his shoulders and give up, resting them in front of you in your lap. His chin knocks against your shoulder as he moves his arm around your waist. 

Steve leans forward to press the button and you stop him, “Wait!” 

He raises his eyebrows at you, looking up and you realize his face is right in front of your chest and you squeeze your eyes closed, “What…uh…what do we do? Smile or - “

Steve's fingers tap your hip, “We’ll figure it out. Relax.”

The number flashes on the screen, your faces filling it and Steve suggests a silly one first, his tongue sticking out and his eyes crossing. You’re mid laugh in that one. He hooks both arms around you, pulling you further onto his lap and his chin falling over your shoulder for the next one. Smiling for the camera normally, until right before the flash he blows a raspberry in your neck, squeezing your waist. You’re caught up in scolding him, trying to jab at his sides in the next one. By the fourth photo you’re laughing, looking at each other as your breathing slows down with smiles. After the flash, Steve’s hand cups your cheek, leaning in closer as your smiles fall and your breath picks up for an entirely different reason. 

“Steve…” your voice is a breath. 

He swallows, his own voice not any louder, “Yeah?”

Your noses are touching, lips hovering over each other’s as you speak, “We should-”

The flash goes off and you both freeze, the booth’s voice echoing and telling you your photos are printing. Clearing your throat, you pull the curtain and stand, Steve following you out and he exhales, sipping his drink. Well, more like chugging it, his finger looped into his collar as he tugs it away from his neck. 

The strip falls into the little cubby and you pull it out with a smile. Your thumb brushes over the photoset, happy to have a physical memory of you and Steve. You get it, why people like them. They’re black and white - timeless. Little moments caught where you weren’t overthinking what Steve and you are, or what you’ll be or how you’ll never work. 

It’s just the two of you at that moment, and you’re glad you have the photos because you already miss it. 

He’s behind you, voice quiet as his eyes take them in, “Do you like them?”

You nod your head, smiling wider, “Yeah, I really do. Thanks.”

He hums, nodding towards the door, “Wanna…?”

A very open ended question, but you nod, slipping the photos into your back pocket and walking out ahead of him. 

Your walk to the blue line stop is silent. Your hands barely touch as you walk, the back of Steve’s fingers hitting yours. Does he want to hold hands? Do you want that too? Lost in a day dream of what it would be like to let yourself walk around holding hands with someone like Steve Harrington.

The sunset draws your attention as you lean on the wall waiting for the train, your chin resting on your folded arms. Oranges and pinks are vibrant streaks across the sky as the sun sinks lower and lower behind the buildings. 

You turn and catch Steve watching you. His eyes melt as they meet yours, orange golden light hitting his jaw, eyes turning into the stickiest honey you’ve yet to see. Your breath catches in your chest and you raise your eyebrows, “What?”

He smiles, soft and barely twitching his lips up before his eyes fall to the ground. He fiddles with the hem of his shirt, “Nothing. I like watching you watch the sunset is all.”

Your heart beats harder and you turn your gaze back on the sky as you exhale, “I never said sorry either you know. And I am,” you look at him again, his eyebrows furrow, and you continue, “Sorry, I mean. It’s kind of all my fault.”

The train pulls up then, both of you caught up in getting on and failing to find a seat. You stand with your back to the doors, chairs to one of your sides and Steve steadies himself with a palm over your shoulder. You’re close, caged in, and on a jolt of the car, you lean forward and catch yourself on his chest. He looks down at you, eyes bouncing between yours. The loud rumble of the car rattles inside your ribcage and as the train goes through a tunnel, the quick bursts of lights outside flash across his face. 

“Sorry it happened or sorry it’s over?”

“What?” You ask quietly, confused by his question. 

He steps closer and your back arches, forgetting there’s other people on the train with you as  he speaks quietly, barely able to hear over the noise of the train, “Earlier. You said you were sorry. That it was your fault. So you’re sorry it happened at all or sorry it’s over?”

“Steve…” you tilt your head, lip almost catching his.

His breath fans across your cheek, “I’m not sorry.” His nose nudges into your cheek and he whispers, “I’m not sorry about any of it. Sorry I hurt you, but not sorry about it happening. And I’m definitely sorry it’s over.”

Your words are caught in your throat. Is this what you want? Do you want Steve completely? Even if it means hurting him? Even if it means getting hurt yourself?

The train announces your stop and his arm falls, following you out the doors. His admission hangs heavy in the air, mixing with the thick heat that’s started to fall over the city. Is it too late to tell him you feel the same way? Can you even tell him that when you can barely admit it to yourself? 

As you step down the stairs to the sidewalk, you see Stan’s and you gesture to it, “Grilled cheese or a donut for the walk back?”

He nods and you don’t argue with him when he pulls out his wallet, only whispering a quiet thank you. You walk in silence, your mind races just as fast as your heart. It’s crazy to think you could let yourself be open to Steve. Robin is right, you’re different, and it’s never going to work. It already hurts now, what happens if it really doesn’t work out?

Taking turns with the sandwich, Steve takes a bite and sighs, stuffing the piece into his cheek. “I only ever make these when I’m sick. Kind of forget they exist outside of that.”

“So that’s your favorite food when you’re sick?” You question as he hands the sandwich back to and you round the corner, your apartment only a block away now. 

He nods, licking his finger and squinting at the sky. “Yeah, grilled cheese and tomato soup.”

“Respectable choice,” you speak around your own bite and you smile. 

You’re stopped at a crosswalk, and Steve watches you, blowing his breath out through parted lips, “Are you going to leave me hanging?”

You know he’s referring to what he just said on the train. Your eyes drop to the sidewalk, stomach turning as you speak, “Steve, we’re…this isn’t going to work. We’re too different. And you don’t even know me. Not really.”

He steps closer, fingers on your chin as he tilts your face up to look at him. He licks his lips, shaking his head and his voice is desperate, “I do. I do know you. I know you like sunsets, and your favorite foods, and what kind of body wash you use…”

His words make tears spring to your eyes, chest tightening as you shake your head. He continues, “You can tell me things. I-” he rubs his thumb across your cheek, “If you give it a chance and open up to someone-”

Maybe it’s a sign from the universe, because before he can keep going, before you can respond, the sky opens up, dumping rain on you from seemingly out of nowhere. 

“Fuck!” He screams, swiping at his eyes as the torrential downpour swallows you both.

Grabbing his hand as the light changes, you take off towards your apartment, both of you blindly running as the rain streams down your face. People honking or running by with umbrellas as you cut across the busy street screaming at Steve to hurry. 

“I’m trying! I can’t see anything more than like two steps in front of me!”

You come to a stop outside your apartment, rain pounding against you both and Steve tries to cover you with his arms, doing absolutely nothing as you fiddle with your keys in your pocket. Finally getting the front door open, the door closes and the sound of your clothes dripping onto the tile is soft compared to what sounds like a hurricane coming down outside the doors. 

Steve removes his hat, shaking his hair and running a hand through it before wringing out the cap, water dripping sadly from it and landing in the quickly forming puddles beneath your feet. Your eyes meet after watching it and you can’t help it, you both burst out laughing. It’s all so ridiculous, or maybe it’s the beers you’ve had. Taking a step, your shoes squish loudly and you groan and Steve's laughter fades and he covers his mouth, shaking his head as he looks up at the ceiling. 

The entire trip up the stairs, the squishing of your socks in your shoes landing on each step only seems to get louder. It’s comical, straight out of a cartoon and every time you look down at your shoes annoyed, Steve’s lips twitch in a fight against a smile. 

A particularly wet squelch happens on the top step and Steve snorts and whispers, “That’s what good pus-”

“Stop!” You cover your face with your palm, hiding your laughter as you interrupt his crude joke. 

Steve can’t stop laughing, both of you breathlessly wheezing as you make it to your front door finally. It’s that kind of laughter that can’t be stopped, spurred on by the other’s picking back up. You don’t even know what’s so funny anymore, all you know is your cheeks and stomach hurt and you don’t want it to be over. 

Stopped at your door, you swipe at your eyes and your laughter trails off naturally. The soft glow of the dimming hallway lights casting Steve in pale yellow, his eyes bounce between yours. Chests rising and falling almost in tandem, your breathing slightly ragged from running and laughing. The air around you feels different and Steve swallows harshly, your eyes follow the movement of his adam’s apple. You’re scared to speak, because maybe if you do, the night isn’t going to end the way you’re too afraid to admit you want it to. 

It’s silly, really, drenched from a surprise rain storm, the night you’ve had with each other and the things he’s said. It’s almost like a date, a pivotal scene from the movies you claim to hate. 

It’s almost like you want Steve to kiss you. 

Your body knows before your brain can catch up, or maybe it’s your heart this time. Drawing closer to each other, Steve pulls you in time and time again. Your own moon, controlling your tides. Keeping you tethered to him, grounded in his gravity and weightless in the same breath. How can someone who makes you feel like this not be meant to be in your life? How could it not work out?

Steve closes the distance, the tips of his sneakers tapping yours as he looks down at where his hand falls to rest on your waist. Your head tilts with an easy familiarity, eyes on his mouth as his nose brushes against yours. He sighs, eyes flitting up to yours as he speaks, barely louder than a breath, “I really missed you.”

His fingers are warm on your side, cold fabric of your shirt bunched up slightly as his thumb brushes across your skin. His other hand rises, almost in slow motion, and cradles your cheek. Steve’s voice is raspy, a little broken as he promises, “Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.”

You really want him to kiss you. 

Your top lip skims his as you lean into him more, speaking even softer than he is, “I don’t want you to stop.”

Steve’s fingers squeeze your hip as his other hand glides to the back of your head. Tangling in your hair as he tilts your head further, lips meeting softly as your eyes flutter closed. A simple press, his breath hits your top lip as he pulls away slightly. Your eyes open, the warmth of his meeting yours, your own personal sunshine back and surrounding you. His hands move, cupping both of your cheeks. Steve's eyes close as he pulls you in again, mouth parting over yours and he sighs into you, filling your lungs with air like you hadn't been able to take a deep breath without him. 

Your stomach flips as he kisses you slower than he ever has - it's easy, familiar, yet new at the same time. Kisses that are sweeter and savoring, nose squished into yours, desperate to be closer. Thumbs brushing over your cheeks, foreheads pressed together. Steve's head tilts, nose bumping higher on your cheek, thumb dragging down your jaw gently as his tongue glides over the seam of your lips, sighing into you again as you open for him. 

Hands roaming to his chest, your palms flatten there as your back bumps into the door. Steve slots his knee between your legs, letting the weight of his body fall against you as your hands climb up his chest. One rests on his shoulder, thumb tugging and brushing against the collar of his shirt as the other trails higher on his neck until it holds his jaw. The slight scratch of scruff against your face contrasting with soft lips that continue to kiss you like he thinks he won't get to ever again. 

It turns desperate quickly, breathily sighing his name into his mouth as he sucks on your bottom lip. It makes Steve kiss even slower, a different kind of teasing than you're used to with each other. His lips move over yours languidly, but precise. Each press to yours a conscious decision, every nudge of his nose against yours purposeful until he's got his hands on either side of your head, palms holding him up against the door. Until yours are twisting his shirt in your fists. Kissing you so slow, you've forgotten to come up for air, panting breaths and back arching as he lets his teeth drag on your bottom lip. Tugging it and sucking before releasing it with a quiet pop. Steve laughs a little into your jaw as you shiver. He's breathing hard, lips ghosting over your skin as you breathlessly laugh too.

"Are we-"

"Do you want to-"

Smiling as you speak at the same time, both sounding a little wrecked. 

"Fuck, please," Steve pleads into your lips and you can't move fast enough. 

Reaching behind you to your door handle, you spin to unlock it as Steve presses up behind you. Large hands landing on your hips after he brushes your hair to one side. Nose dragging against the back of your ear, breath hot against your skin as he mouths at you, "Baby, hurry."

Baby.

Heart stuttering at the name you didn't realize how much you missed until you heard it again. 

You laugh, realizing this is crazy, only for it to break off into a moan as he presses his growing erection into your back and sucks at the skin just behind your ear. "Fu-fuck, Steve," you stumble as his fingers squeeze your hips and his bruising mark heats up under his mouth, "St-stop distracting me."

Steve's smile against your skin makes you shiver again. Soft lips grazing just barely against your cheek, down to your jaw. His hands bunch your shirt into his fists, knuckles brushing your sides as he sighs. "Dunno what you're talking about honey."

The lock clicks open finally, Steve reaches for the knob, engulfing your hand with his and pushing you both inside. He laces his fingers into yours as his other hand locks the door once more. Fingers intertwined, he spins you, back against the door again. 

"Smooth," you smirk as he catches your lips with his.

"You liked it," he breathes into your mouth. He tugs at your hips until you're straddling his thigh. One hand wraps around your back, palm pressing you closer to him as his lips move over yours slowly once more. 

You're not sure how long it's been since you've been kissed like this - if you've ever been kissed like this. 

Parted lips, tongues meeting soft and lazy, your fingers get lost in his hair as his slowly roam under your thighs, lifting you and guiding you to wrap around his waist. Steve starts laughing as you kick your shoes off and he nearly trips on them as he makes his way to your bedroom, kicking his own off somewhere along the way. 

Rain hits against your bedroom window rhymically, curtains filtering in the pale blue dusk as Steve sits down on your bed. Your legs falling on either side of his hips as you straddle him.

Steve deepens the kiss, breath warm on your cheek as he angles his head, smiling as you moan when he nips at your bottom lip again. He pulls away just enough to look at you, his thumbs brushing your cheeks as his eyes move over your face, tracking and tracing over the freckles and curves of you. You missed seeing him in this space and it makes your heart beat harder. Realizing in just a week the scent of his cologne has faded from your sheets, second coffee cups unused, a tangible thing missing from your home in too many ways to count. 

Steve's watching you curiously as your hands moved without realizing, tracing over the features of his face physically. Fingers over his eyebrows, the slope of his nose, his flushed cheeks before following the curve of his top lip. Backtracking and touching his cupid's bow. His own thumb roams to your lips too, dragging over your bottom lip as he sighs, "I don't have a condom. I didn't really expect..."

Your fingers fall, shrugging as you quietly admit, "I don’t either. But I haven't slept with anyone but you Steve. Not since before..."

"Yeah?" he swallows, thumb on your chin and pulling you in for a soft kiss. The rain picks up somehow, mirroring your hammering heart. 

Reluctantly removing your lips from his, your fingers scratch down his shirt. They fiddle with the hem of it as you avoid his gaze, "Have...have you?" 

He shakes his head, nose bumping yours as he whispers, "Just you."

"Okay," you exhale a shaky breath. 

He smiles, hands wrapping around your back. "Okay."

A crack of thunder rumbles outside so loud it feels like it's inside your apartment and you jump, clinging to Steve. His hands soothe up your spine, nose pressing into your cheek as his fingers cradle your jaw again. Your lips catch his top one in a soft press before your hands lift his shirt. 

You've removed each other's clothes before, but something about tonight feels different. Slowly tugging the shirt over his head, hair ruffled as it's drying. Your hands roam over his biceps, leaning in to kiss him again, smiling as his muscles flex under your fingertips as his run across the exposed skin on your lower back. Fingernails scratch down his chest, curls of his chest hair sticking to his tanned skin from the rain that soaked through the fabric. His arms are filled with new freckles from all the sun lately and you can’t help but lean forward and let your lips drag over them. As your fingers stop on his stomach, Steve slowly lifts your shirt from you. A flash of lightning illuminates your room, Steve's eyes drinking you in as his hands roam over you just as yours had on him. Buzzing touches into your skin, sending vibrations throughout your body as he pulls you closer to his chest. 

His nose ghosts over the shell of your ear, lips kissing under it. The pads of his fingers press into your spine and he sighs as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck to your shoulder. Resting in a spot only he's found that makes you whimper without control, lip tugging between your teeth and back arching as he bites down gently. He sucks over the spot before his tongue soothes it as his hands cradle you closer. He sighs into your neck as you whine again. His breath is fast and hot against your skin, kissing up the column of your throat as you extend it for him, head thrown back as he holds you tighter. His mouth moves lower as his hands do the same, pulling you down and guiding you to rock against him and your stomach flutters alive with butterflies. 

Steve can’t seem to keep his hands still, squeezing your hips, roaming to your back again, soon he’s cradling your jaw, pulling you in for a deeper kiss as he falls onto the bed further. He groans as you grind against the bulge under his jeans, rolling your hips harder as his hands slip into your back pockets. Your kiss becomes frantic, letting your weight fall against him completely and he breathes into you, hands moving to your back again. “Hey,” he shakes his head against your lips, smile ghosting over them as you whine. He tugs on your chin, thumb holding it as he gasps into your mouth, “Slow down. I’m not going anywhere.”

A whimper into his lips, his words make your chest ache. His fingers toy with the strap of your dark maroon bra, they trace the lace above the cups, thumb brushing over the hardened bead of your nipple through the fabric. He breathes into your lips, smiling, “This is new isn’t it?”

Nodding against his kiss, you whine again as his fingers move at a tantalizing pace over your skin, rolling you onto your back. He holds your waist as your back arches and his lips kiss over your chest. He huffs a quiet laugh into your navel as he moves lower, “You were so going to Argyle’s to try to get laid tonight.”

You’re quiet at his words, pretending like you didn’t hear him and he gasps dramatically against your skin. Lips and nose tracing the band of your jeans as his fingers squeeze at your hips. “Wow. And here I thought I was special.”

His fingers fiddle with the zipper of the denim as you breathily ask, “Excuse me?”

He pops open the button, rolling your jeans down, nose dragging over the maroon colored lace exposed. Steve scoffs, “Aha! Matching new set! I was right!”

Your hips lift as he tugs the pants off of you completely and you roll your eyes, ignoring him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He makes eye contact with you as he unbuttons his own jeans, disbelief in every feature of his face and you bite your lip as his pants drop and he steps out of them. His fingers trail up your legs, hooking around your knees as he crawls forward. Squirming under him as his thumb brushes the ticklish spot and he smirks. His hands climb up your thighs, squeezing at the soft and doughy flesh. 

Steve’s lips trail across your hips, skimming across the band of lace as you breathe out, “Okay, how did you…oh,” thoughts broken off into a moan as he sucks on your hip, fingers dragging over your clothed slit. 

He kisses up your body, nose pressed to your jaw as the pads of two his fingers dip under the band of lace, teasing, not moving any further, brushing back and forth. His legs straddle one of yours, hard length pressed to your hip, your other leg rising as your back arches. Steve smiles against your jaw, fingers slowly moving lower as your breath quickens. He speaks into your neck, “Honey, were you really about to ask me how I knew?”

He presses a soft kiss to your damp skin, goosebumps rising as he whispers, “Told you, I know you.”

The pad of his finger catches your clit just barely, slipping past it and you whine, fingers twisting in your comforter as your toes curl. Steve makes a soft tutting noise, “She’s needy, huh? Missed me?”

You want to roll your eyes at his cockiness, but your thighs spread, head nodding as you tug your lip between your teeth. 

When Steve said slow down, he meant it. His kissing, his words, the slow pace of his movements has you aroused embarrassingly quick, slick coating between your thighs. His fingers drag through your folds, teasing at your entrance and quite literally slipping up to your clit, pressing lazy and messy circles into it. A sigh, a whine of his name falls past your lips as your hands find his shoulders. Your body stretches away from him, overwhelmed already as he props himself up on his forearm and hip. 

He gives in to your whimpers, granting you a kiss. Lips latched onto your top one as he breathes heavily, his fingers sliding easily through you as he rolls his hips against your side. Your fingers scratch down his chest, hooking around his neck and tugging him on top of your body. His hand slips from your underwear, cradling your face as he grinds himself against you. 

Arching as your hands roam over the muscles of his back, you push at his boxers. His hands move to your hips, both of you sliding undergarments from each other while refusing to break your kiss. His tip catches at your clit and you moan into his lips. He unclasps your bra, flinging it somewhere and you nod against him, nose pressed to his cheek as he slides through your folds, nudging at your entrance. 

Steve pushes into you torturously slowly, your lungs feel like the air was sucked from them. Tears pricking at your lash line because you missed him. Missed this, of course, but you’re realizing you just missed Steve. 

His mouth falls open against yours, eyes pinching closed as his hand grips at your waist. Cursing softly at the roll of your hips, begging him to go deeper. His hand squeezes your thighs, wrapping them around his waist as he bottoms out, your strangled moans mixing together. 

Steve focuses on your lips again, kissing you softly as your ankles lock behind his back. He lets his weight fall on you, hand against your lower back as he angles your body for him, beginning to thrust slowly. 

Sex with Steve has always been good. He takes care of you, makes sure you’re comfortable, you orgasm at least once (but always more), and praising you to no end. His dirty talk is what always pushes you over the edge, hurtling through space. 

This is different. 

The rain beats loudly against your window, your sighs and gasps lost in it. He’s breathing your name into your lips, fingers pressed into your spine. Every drag of his cock along your walls makes him moan, makes you clench around him tighter. Your foreheads press together, his nose nudges into your cheek, you want him closer and it’s impossible, there’s nothing between you and you feel the stones of the wall you surround yourself with crumbling. 

Rolling your hips to meet each of his thrusts, he whispers into your mouth, “So good f’me,” kissing you sweetly, “Baby.” His hands roam up your body, fingertips grazing across your skin. He pushes himself deeper and you gasp out his name. The cool metal of Steve’s chain hanging from his neck, taps at your chin with each lazy thrust and your thumbs drag on it around his neck, tugging. Part of you wants to rip it off, wrap it around your own neck and be his. 

Steve practically begs, your name a plea on his lips against yours as his fingers roam higher, lacing with yours and pushing them into the pillows. Held hands above your head now and you moan loudly, nodding into his kiss as the new position gives him leverage to roll his hips. Each thrust hitting deeper now, pausing before he pulls out halfway and does it all over again. Frantic as your body fills with heat, telling him to keep going, that it’s the perfect spot. Bodies sliding together like they’re made for each other, sweat slicked as they drag against one another. Steve pants your name again, fingers flexing in yours as you grip him tighter, sinking into the mattress with every slow and powerful thrust. 

He squeezes your hands harder and your stomach somersaults. Lips moving against yours needy, desperate, you can feel the ache in his chest mixing with yours as his thrusts pick up their pace. Your foreheads still touching, his kiss turns soft, contrasting with the way his hips meet yours - the sound of your slick coating him mixing with the rain. His mouth hovers over yours and your eyes flutter open, making eye contact with him. Steve’s face is flushed, eyes looking at you like no one ever has before, like a bulldozer was taken to the wall around your heart, metal armor shattering and clanging to the floor.

He squeezes your hands again, pushing them higher and your mouth parts in a gasp as something in you melts with each snap of his hips. Your ears buzz with static, lips tingling against his as white heat bursts through you, thighs shaking around his waist. This has to be what it feels like to sit in a rocket before take off. Adrenaline and excitement mixed with something that makes your pulse throb in your ears. 

Steve whispers into your lips, “That’s it, honey, come on.” Your stomach flips around his words, your orgasm rolling through you. Squeezing his hands as your back arches. Your eyes flutter open, making eye contact with him again. Steve kisses you harder, moaning into your lips as his thrusts stutter, his release filling you up as you come down from your high.

His movements slow, both of you breathing heavily, skin flushed and damp. Steve releases your fingers, dragging his hands down your body, wrapping around your lower back. Yours fall around his shoulders, holding the back of his head, scratching at his scalp and smiling when he shivers. His nose brushes down yours, eyes meeting before his look at your lips. Fluttering closed as you kiss again. 

A different kiss. 

The kind you’ve only watched in the movies. The kiss after, not fucking, but the kind of sex where you can feel the emotions coming off the screen. 

You’re exhausted, limbs heavy and eyelids even more so. Your fingers card through his hair as his lips slip over yours lazily. Rolling to his side and pulling you with him, Steve pulls out of you with a quiet wince, his touch buzzing circles into your spine. 

“That was…” you whisper, breaking off into a yawn. 

“Yeah?” You don’t have to open your eyes to know he’s smiling. 

“Yeah.” Kissing his jaw and sighing as sleep tries to pull you under. 

Steve’s strong and warm arms, the rain, and the way your heart feels lighter, gooier, it’s all a perfect concoction for sleep, and despite knowing that you need to talk about this, you don’t. You let the heavy blanket of exhaustion wash over you, curling into Steve’s chest as your breathing grows more steady. 

Unsure of how long you’re asleep for, you wake to the soft silk of his lips on your temple, then your cheek. Steve’s whisper of having to leave and you hum, not really hearing him. Fully rising when the sun is too warm on your face coming in through the curtains. Your eyes blink open heavily, the mattress next to you empty. 

Rolling to your side, you hide your smile with the blanket. A glass of water with a note leaning against it from Steve, reminding you he left and he’ll text you. 

The corner of white sticking out from your jeans on the floor draws your attention. Pulling the sheet around you as you pad over to it, your photos from last night are a blur. Water damaged, and smeared on the edges, but if you squint you can still make out yours and Steve’s smiles. Your thumb brushes over the last one, heartbeat kicking up as your palms sweat and you close your eyes. 

Fuck. 

Are you falling in love with Steve Harrington? 

The buzz of your phone wakes you from your half asleep state, forehead and neck clammy with sweat and you pull your blanket over your shoulders again. Burrowing your face in your pillow as tears prick behind your eyes. You miss Steve, and you haven’t had a chance to talk other than a few texts since last weekend. You have no idea what he’s thinking and you’ve been ripping yourself up from the inside out with your own conflicted feelings. Silly to cry over it, you know that, but your hormones have other plans. 

Swiping at your lash line, you respond quickly and lock your phone, eyes focusing back on the movie playing. 

An hour later when your front door rings for the take out you ordered, you buzz them in and unlock the door. Returning from your bedroom as you pull a sweatshirt on, your body freezes at the sight of Steve standing in your doorway. 

He’s dressed slightly more formal than you’ve ever seen him. Hair gelled perfectly, matching navy suit with the coat and vest that’s usually missing from his work attire. The tips of his brown shoes and sheen of his matching leather belt make you glance down at your own outfit. You’re in your comfiest sweats, one leg tucked into fuzzy socks with ducks, your sweatshirt you just pulled on ripping at the sleeves, giant gaping holes in it and stains down the front. Your hair is sweaty, yanked back in a frizzled and matted ponytail. 

Your arms curl in on yourself. “What are you doing here?”

Steve closes the door behind him, holding up two brown paper bags from two different places. He goes to your kitchen with a frown on his face. “You said you were sick. Do you always buzz people in without asking their name and leave your door unlocked for them? Cause that’s really not safe?”

He spins, removing his jacket and unbuttoning his vest as he looks in your cupboard for a plate. He asks over his shoulder, “Do you want the chinese food I intercepted at the door or the pancakes I brought?”

His words make tears fall past your lash line and you quickly swipe at them, clearing your throat before he notices and you whisper, “Pancakes, please.”

He starts opening the bag, looking up at you. His cheeks turn pink, rubbing the back of his neck as he nods towards the couch with a smile, “Go lay down, you look like crap.”

Rolling your eyes, you sniffle but listen to him. Sitting up now and curled under your blanket, you reach for the cord of your heating pad, bumping up the temp as he enters the room with a plate. Watching him take in the stack of movies, the book on your coffee table, the heating pad, bottle of painkillers and finally your face. 

His lips twitch up on one side as he sits, lifting your legs and draping them over his lap as he hands you the plate. 

“Thanks,” you whisper. 

Steve watches as you roll a pancake, picking it up with your fingers and nibble on it, closing your eyes as it hits your tongue with a quiet sigh. 

He rubs at your ankle, thumb soothing under the elastic of the bottom of your sweats. Squirming at the thought of your prickly hair, you start to pull away from him, voice tense, “Steve…”

He massages your calf and your eyes flutter closed, moaning into your bite of pancake. When you open them, you see him smiling at the screen and your other foot kicks at his thigh, “Stop gloating.”

His fingernails scratch down your leg and you shiver, rolling your shoulders back as he speaks softly, “I’m not gloating. Just nice that you’re letting me take care of you is all.”

Normally you’d push back, shut him down, tell him you don’t need his help, but it’s been a particularly bad period and after your last night with him, your emotions are getting the best of you. 

Sinking down into the couch, you mumble into your pancakes, “Sometimes it’s nice to be taken care of…”

Steve hums, eyes trained on The Princess Bride playing on your small TV as he asks, “When’s the last time you let someone do that?”

Shrugging your shoulders, your eyes trained on your pancakes that become blurry, as you squeak out, “I don’t know. A while.”

He drops the subject, both of you sinking into the couch as he massages up and down both of your calves. His fingers and thumbs resting on your ankle as the movie plays. Eventually your eyes start to drift closed as the credits roll and Steve squeezes your leg gently, whispering, “Hey, why don’t you go lay down in bed.”

“ ‘m fine. Not tired,” you mumble, eyes blinking open. 

He scoffs, slipping out from under you and before you can protest, he’s pulling your blanket off, unplugging your heating pad. He picks you up under your arms, hoisting you to your feet as you groan. Your hands wrap around his neck, face pressed to his chest as you yawn. Steve’s arms wrap around you hesitantly, his cheek to the top of your head. 

You stand there for a while, holding each other, your breath falling more even as you inhale his cologne. All woodsy and the faintest hint of a cigar on his tie. 

His palms rub up and down your spine and he whispers, “Come on, I’ll put a movie on your laptop and you’ll feel a lot better laying down in there, right?”

Nodding your head, you let him go, heading to the bathroom before finding him in your room. He’s fluffing your pillow and smiling at you as you stand in the doorway. He pats the bed and you make no movement to enter the room, hands twisting together in front of you as your stomach ties itself in a knot, your words stuck in your throat. 

Steve stops his movement, eyebrows raising, “What’s up?”

Exhaling a breath through your nose, your eyes look into his before finding the floor much more interesting as you ask, “Will you…will you stay?”

“Yeah, of course.” He looks down at his clothes and then up at you, gesturing to them, “Is it okay if I take these off?”

Smiling, you tug your lip between your teeth as you climb into your bed, “What, you don’t wanna relax in a three piece suit, Steve?”

He rolls his eyes but starts unbuttoning his slacks, you try to focus on pulling up a movie instead of the way he carefully folds his pants and vest over your desk chair. He’s got just his button down on now, black boxer’s and thick dress socks. You drag your palm down your cheek and scold yourself for letting your hormones derail your thoughts into something dirty. He’s just a friend here to watch a movie.  

He looks at the laptop screen as he hangs the button down in the same place, crawling in next to you in just his white undershirt and boxers. Warm socked feet tangling with yours as he raises his eyebrows and asks, “Holes? You wanna watch the movie Holes?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you roll onto your side to face the screen, quietly admitting, “Yeah, it’s a good movie. You don’t like it?”

Steve props himself up on his arm, head resting in his palm as his other hand rubs at your shoulder. “No, it’s good. I’m just surprised by your movie choices tonight is all.”

Your eyes flutter closed as his hand rests on your waist, thumb brushing under your sweatshirt at the bare skin he finds there. Humming as you relax back against his warmth. “What do you mean?”

Steve’s breath is warm on your neck and cheek as his thumb continues to rub circles, “I don’t know, The Princess Bride? Holes? I saw The Notebook out there and your book on the table was Pride and Prejudice. Seems like someone who hates love, secretly doesn’t.”

You huff, burrowing back against him and tangling your legs between his. If you had your eyes open you’d see him smiling down at your pout, but you do feel his squeeze on your hip as you reply, “Holes doesn't have anything to do with love and The Notebook is out there because Robin left it here after she made me watch it, so.”

Steve laughs quietly, “Holes is totally a love story. Sam’s ‘I can fix that’ is a nod to ‘As you wish’ and Kate’s revenge is because the love of her life was killed, and,” Steve squeezes your hip again, nose dragging across the back of your neck as he whispers, “That’s bullshit about Robin, cause I know for a fact she hates The Notebook.”

Your heart beats faster in your chest, palms sweating where they hold your blanket up to your chin as your eyes open. You want to deny it. To tell him he’s got it wrong, but there is something about these movies that always pulls you back in, and maybe it’s okay to tell him that. 

“I like that they all still love each other, even when they’re ripped apart from each other. They didn’t let life take their love away.”

Steve’s breath changes on your neck, his fingers pause just slightly on your hip and you feel tears in your eyes as you clear your throat. Deciding that if you want Steve in your life, you’re going to have to be open and tell him things you normally keep close and guarded. 

Not noticing you’re doing it, you pull his hand from your hip, playing with his fingers in front of you as you tell him all about your parents, their once in a lifetime kind of love. Dancing in the kitchen and your dad hitting your mom’s butt when she wore a particular pair of jeans. Your tears fall down your cheeks and you wipe at them as the movie continues to play while you retell their love story and how they met. Their date nights once a month no matter what, their coffee on Sunday mornings and feeding each other food while driving on long road trips. Knowing each other’s orders and getting the other ice cream even when they say they didn’t want anything.  

Rolling to face him, Steve’s eyes roam over your face, his thumb brushing at your cheeks before you grab it again, holding it against your chest as you tell him how your mom got sick. How your boyfriend in college who you’d thought was the one left when it got hard. How you watched your mom wither away, alone. Your dad stayed with her every day, and you knew it, that when she died, you’d never get him back, not the full dad you knew. He died a week after your mom, and you’re certain it was from a broken heart. Certain no one could have anything comparable to their love for one another. Convincing yourself that a person only gets to witness a love story like that once, and they were it for you. 

Steve’s eyes are wet with unshed tears as you shrug and swipe at your nose. Your voice scratchy and rough as you clear it and whisper, “I’ve never told anyone about that before. We moved around so much when I was little, and after they died…well,” you laugh a little, backhanding your cheek roughly, “I just kept moving too.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve’s palm rests against your cheek, forehead pressing to yours.

“Yeah,” you sigh out in a breath. 

Steve swallows loudly, nose nudging against yours as his hands warm up and down your spine, soothing you. Your legs tangle together as Kate dies on the screen of your laptop, imagining her true love has returned for her. 

It’s hours later, your bedroom lilac and blue as dawn rises outside your curtains. Warmer than normal when you wake up to buzzing. Steve’s arms are wrapped around you, his body pressed flush against your back, puffs of his breath hitting just behind your ear on a shared pillow. 

Rubbing at your eyes, you search for the sound, nudging him awake, “Steve, phone.”

“What, honey?” He doesn’t open his eyes, nosing into your neck and arm tightening around your waist. 

Heart stuttering and a smile pulling on your lips as you nudge him again, “Steve, your phone is going off.”

He sits up abruptly, voice hoarse, “Oh fuck!”

“What, what’s wrong?” Rolling as he slips out of bed, pulling his clothes on quickly. 

He grimaces at his phone, locking it and shoving it in his pocket. He holds his shirts in his hands and leans over you in bed, hands grabbing your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I gotta go, my parents are here and…” he sighs, forehead touching yours, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whisper, holding onto his wrists. 

Steve’s eyes open, glancing down at your lips before he pulls you in closer. He presses a soft kiss to them, sighing into you as he whispers it again, “I’m sorry. I’ll…I’ll see you at the game later. I,” his phone starts buzzing again and he groans. 

He kisses your lips quickly again and then he’s gone. 

You let yourself get ready for the day with a smile on your face after that. Telling Steve about your past was the right decision, you know it was. You feel lighter, you feel hopeful for the first time in a long time. Your thumb brushes over your photos from last week again, letting them rest on your desk as you finish your coffee. 

You’re lost in daydreams of getting ready for tailgating and outings with the group in the future, only Steve is next to you in a different way. It’s insane, it makes your heart stutter, makes your stomach flip, but you have a smile you can’t hold back at the thought of it all. Robin would surely be okay with everything that’s happened, if it meant you and Steve are happy. 

When Robin, Nancy, and Eddie pick you up, you’re caught up in Eddie insisting that that top stays off of the jeep all day despite Nancy pulling up the weather app and telling him the chance of rain. 

The tailgating spot is all set up and Eddie and you are crushing Robin and Nancy at bags, beers in hand and matching sunglasses on your faces. You pretend to chest bump as you score three more points while they’re stuck at zero. 

Robin grimaces at the two of you, finger waggling, “I’m really regretting this. I don’t like you two together. You’re too similar.”

Nancy looks frazzled, hating that they’re losing. She tries showing Robin a better way to throw and Robin throws her hands up in the air, turning to the two of you again. “Can’t you go easy on us? You both know I’m athletically challenged.”

Eddie shakes his head laughing, “No can do, toots!”

Robin pretends to gag, “Gross, don’t call me toots.”

Nancy puts her hands on Robin’s shoulders, her voice strained, “Robin. Focus.”

While they gameplan and Eddie heads to the cooler for another beer, you look around wondering where Steve is. Checking your pockets, figuring you left your phone in the jeep and you open the door to search for it. 

When you do, you see three missed calls from Steve and three texts:

Your brows furrow at the messages, heart rate picking up as you wonder what could possibly be wrong. Green phone button ready to be pressed under your thumb when relief washes over you as Robin shouts, “Dingus! It’s about time! You’re going in for me as Nace’s partner, I give up.”

Turning to face him as your shoulders relax, your smile on your face quickly falls. 

Steve has another girl’s hand in his and he’s staring at you as he says, “Hey guys, sorry we’re late.”

A/N: I cannot say thank you enough for the patience in waiting for this series to update. I'm forever grateful for those of you who are sticking by this series despite long wait times in updates & I'm happy to see some new readers still finding this little world! We have one final part after this (plus a small epilogue), and I promise, it's coming soon. Endless endless thanks to my beta @sweetsweetjellybean and my ladies for talking me off cliffs and helping me make this series the best it can be. 💛

WCIL Taglist: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @johnricharddeacy @freezaz123 @selfdeprecatingnerd @big-ope-vibes @manda-panda-monium @hellkaisersangel @yogizzz @soulmatecashton @happytimeunicorns @mandyjo8719 @lunarxeclipse @buckleylips @beckkthewreck @differentdeputyfishpaper @supardupar @micheledawn1975 @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sagelittleplace @totally-bogus-timelady @steves-babysitter @fallinginlovewithqueue @aftermidnightwriting @omgshesinsane @pootcullen @definitionwanderlust @nostalgiafool @palmtreesx3 @scoopshxrrington @live-the-fangirl-life

#steve harrington #modern!steve #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington smut #steve harrington series #stever harrington fic #we'll call it love

[hyuuukais]

✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES

pairing ☆ lee felix x fem reader

synopsis ☆ Y/N is a new streamer. after months of planning, and her best friend & now fellow streamer han jisung convincing her, she makes a twitch and youtube account. thanks to jisung giving her a shoutout to his own huge following, she gains some unexpected overnight fame. but what was more unexpected was waking up to see her long-time favourite comfort streamer _sunshine.bbokari_ following her.

warnings ☆ swearing

[TAGLIST -> CLOSED]

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

☆partially written chapter, 6 screenshots☆

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE ☆ COMING CLEAN

When you look up, your eyes lock with Kai's across the room, who gives you a thumbs up. The backup plan was he'd act like he just came in, notice you, and make up something normal enough to seem believable, rambling while bringing you out leaving no room for questioning. While you feel ready to tell Jake, you have no idea how he'll respond, so an out was needed.

After a few minutes of waiting, someone slides across from you. Your eyes stay on the table, too nervous to look at him. It's been so long... what if you look up and all you see in his eyes is disappointment? Or anger? Or hate?

He could hate you, you think, if he doesn't already, he will after this. Y/N, how could you?

The little voice in your head doesn't stop, breathing becoming shallow. A hand rests softly on your wrist, bringing you back to reality- it's Jake, of course it's Jake.

"Dont listen to the voice," He says softly, eyes knowing. "Just tell me what it is."

"I..." You rub your collarbone with your free hand. "Promise you won't hate me?"

Bewildered, he shakes his head, looking away briefly only to look back more intensely then before.

"Y/N I could never hate you." His voice is low. "You could break my heart into a million pieces, I still wouldn't be able to hate you."

Tears prickle at the edges of your eyes. A waitress is about to approach, but seeing your expression and the way Jake's hand is still resting on yours, she turns to another table. Part of you so desperately wants- no, needs- an interruption.

Kai watches the two of you from afar, wondering if he should step in when he sees your panicked look. But you said wait for the signal, two taps to your right temple.

"C'mon, Y/N, you've got this..." Kai sips his drink, leg bouncing, anticipation coursing through his body.

Your eyes brush over him, but quickly look back to Jake with a deep breath.

"When you told me how you felt, I panicked. I didn't know how to respond, so I..." You break eye contact sheepishly. "I made something up. The boyfriend thing it... wasn't true. At the time, I thought it would hurt you less! Saying I had a boyfriend instead of just saying straight up, 'hey I don't like you like that! Sorry to break it to you!' But I know now how stupid that was-"

"You and Felix though-" Jake takes his hand away finally, and you could see the gears in his brain working. "It was all fake?"

When he looks up at you, you see more confusion than hurt.

"Um, yeah. But it's real now."

"Wait, wait, wait," He holds up his hands in a stopping motion. "What?"

"We were fake dating and now real dating?" You shrug.

There's a beat where no one says anything. Silence heavy, anxiety high, Jake's hands still in the air before suddenly dropping in a laugh.

"How the hell did you manage to actually pull the Lee Felix?!" He shakes his head more, leaning back with a smile on his face. "That's actually- wow. I can't- wow!"

Now you're more confused then ever.

"You're not... mad?

"Mad? No- well, maybe a bit upset you lied, but then I have to think, would I have done different?" Jake pretends he's deep in thought, hand rubbing his chin. "Yeah, probably. But who knows for sure that I wouldn't have faked a girlfriend?"

You laugh, tension easing away slowly.

"I'm sorry for blocking you," Jake's tone turns serious, causing the tightness in your chest to return. "Not my best idea, but I didn't know what to do. It was hard seeing you everywhere, and I needed to clear my head, feel my feelings." He looks away, cheeks flushed. "What if I told you I met someone while we weren't talking? And that she helped me a lot with getting over you? Like talking through stuff, helping me realize I'd rather have you as a friend over anything else... and in the process I may have... fell for her?"

He looks so embarrassed you can't help the giggle that escapes you.

"Oh my god?" You gasp, trying to contain yourself. "That's so- of course you would!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake's cheeks burn a brighter shade of pink.

"Nothing, just- that's so... almost sweet?" A disgusted look crosses your face. "You didn't hear that from me." He laughs. "I'm happy for you, but damn did blocking me hurt. I might need some time before we get back to normal, but this is a good start."

"I totally understand that," A small smile forms on his face. "Why don't we go ahead and finally order? Oh, and tell Kai he can join us."

"You- you knew he was here?!" It was your turn to blush.

"He's kinda hard to hide..."

You both burst into giggles, signalling Kai to join your table.

☆~☆~☆

notes ☆ it's out in the open !!!!! i was like hmm i COULD make this kinda sad, but decided not to bc y/n deserves a string of good things rn

taglist ☆ @marcillfll @toplinelix @neri-ner @tfshouldidohere @imasimplol @samvagejkflxhrt @yennifersgeralt @aestheticsluut @cherryuqii @tenebrisirae @roseidol @veryjeongintxtkid @amara-mars @chrizzlaptop @bmnyy @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @ellelabelle @gini143 @mrsseals16 @veedoesntknaur @channiesstars @daydreamer5006 @luvvvash @amesification @skzswife @blamemef0rit @soulphoenix1618 @lovingmny @stvrfir3 @boo-ven9eance @adestayskz @rag-iii @enchantedgrunge @mytherapisttoldmenotto @strawberry-dreamland @oh-my-fancan @lucktales @cookielino @fantasyaddict123 @sleeplessmin @alexxxxxthebitxh @flirtyskzbutterfly @vixensss @hannahs-docx @hash2013 @jellsxox @sserafimez @theblindhag @liknws @hannahhbahng

pink means i can't tag you

#✧˖°ʚ🍓ɞ♡ SUNSHINE AND STRAWBERRIES #skz #stray kids #skz smau #social media au #lee felix x reader #stray kids smau #lee felix #lee felix x fem reader #non idol felix #non idol au #stray kids streamer au #felix streamer au #streamer au

[saintsir4n]

UNCOVER

in which malachai discovers the truth of his father and mother’s history.

WARNINGS: 21st century the mikaelsons. (malachai is a teenager in this)

___

“Malachai…” Klaus gulped, eyes wide like saucers when he saw his son stumble into the room that was a violent tip.

Another argument between his brothers was only made worse by the little home truths he wished to forget.

Adrienne turned away when she saw the sight of their teenage son dealing with a range of emotions.

The teenager gulped, as he stared at his father, “You didn’t think I was yours?”

Klaus rapidly shook his head, panicked, “That’s not…”

“You didn’t want me,” Malachai breathed out, daring to spare a glance at his paternal uncles who looked dishevelled.

But blood wasn’t the only thing splattered across their faces, their guilt of knowing the truth was evident.

“Of course I wanted you,” Klaus rushed out, honesty clinging to his tone.

Malachai gritted out, “Then why did Uncle Kol say that?”

Klaus' furious gaze narrowed onto his brother who stiffened, “You can’t trust a word that he says.”

“But I can trust Mom’s face," Malachai's voice cracked, making his mother's pained expression deepen, “It’s true, isn't it? What he did to you. What he did when you were pregnant with me.”

Adrienne couldn't lie to her son, not with the tears pooling in his eyes, driving a sharp pain towards her chest. She didn't dare look at her husband or her in-laws. Even after the shock of her pregnancy and the heartbreak of its reveal, it was a feeling that never left her. She knew that Klaus loved Malachai, just as much as he loved Marcel and it was only a matter of time before the truth of that destructive night came to light.

And one bad comment from Kol did just that.

So Adrienne tried, “I promise I’ll explain.”

Malachai sniffled, “But he just said —“

“Perhaps we should leave the room," Elijah suggested.

“You’d think you would’ve already done that," Klaus sneered, glaring at everyone who wasn't his wife or youngest son.

Elijah's face hardened, “I’m trying to help.”

“You did more than that," Kol remarked, removing glass shards from his chest.

Klaus shot back, “Oh you’re one to talk, you were just as much to blame as me.”

“Brothers, not now," Elijah exacerbated, missing how Adrienne tried grabbing her son's trembling hand.

“Stop with the secrets, just tell me," Malachai snapped.

Adrienne mumbled, seeing the rage forming in his cyan eyes, “Baby, maybe we should talk about this at a different time.”

“That would be best," Klaus hastily agreed.

Malachai argued, “No.”

“Malachai," Kol sighed.

"No.” Malachai's glare grew at his uncle.

Elijah tried, “Aesir maybe —“

“Shut up!” Malachai’s yell got the attention of Rebekah, Finn, Marcel and Hadeon who all rushed into the room, stunned by what was happening. “All of you, tell me what happened all those years ago, or I swear to God I’ll leave.”

Hadeon immediately jumped in when the ground trembled and his nephew's eyes flashed, “Malachai, please calm down.”

"You’re hurting yourself," Marcel and Klaus chorused, the latter's face appeared horrified.

“I’ll tell you,” Adrienne rushed out, placing her hands on Malachai's cheeks.

Klaus's eyes pooled with tears, “Adrienne.” Malachai would think of him differently, he was sure of it. "Please."

Adrienne's lip quivered, but to stop her from deliberating, her son said, “No lies.”

His tone was as serious as his father's, so she had no choice but to repeat, “No lies.”

“Tell me what Dad did to you, to us.”

And so she did and soon they'd all live to regret it.

_

#wattpad #fanfic #black reader #black girl #adriennelumiere #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikaelson x black reader #witch #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaleson imagine #the mikaelsons #malachai mikaelson #one shot #marcel gerard #rebekah mikaelson #finn mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #hadeon lumiere

[ever-eilish]

Could you do Billie Eilish asking r out

A (not so) bad day

billie eilish x fem! reader

a day that is supposed to be horrible takes unexpected turns, after you accidentally bump into a certain singer

author's notes: thank you so much for requesting, I really appreciate it! sorry if this is not what you wanted, I really hope you like it though! once again, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, enjoy❤️

warnings: a bit of cursing, but mostly fluff

Chaotic. That was the only way to define today. You know that saying that 'nothing is so bad that it cant get worse'? So, that saying has proven true today.

I woke up 30 minutes late, spilled the coffee in my white clothes, missed the bus, and now I'm here, standing in front of the bland beige door, waiting for my boss to decide to call me to give me some more of his scolding.

Bad luck. That's the only word that can describe my day, or rather, my week.

Everything that could go wrong, did;

I'm in the midst of a series of catastrophic events ranging from the simplest, like knocking my butter breakfast bread to the floor — with the butter-covered part facing down, of course — to the more serious, like being threatened with losing my job by my annoying, weird boss.

I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I see the door in front of me open and the middle-aged man walk out of the room - which looks more like a chain saddle.

"Well, well, it looks like you've decided to be late again?" the wretch says.

As if I'd choose to miss my bus, spill coffee on my white blouse, and wake up late.

"That way I'll have no option but to fire you," he repeats the same words he's been saying to me for so long.

Son of a bitch.

"Sir, please! I promise it won't happen again, I love my job!" I lied.

"I'm sorry, but you're officially fired," he announces, as if announcing me as an Oscar winner. I take a deep breath, count to a thousand, take another deep breath and, with all the calmness in the world, say: "FUCK YOU!" I throw my badge on the floor, and walk towards the office door, ignoring all the crooked looks directed at me, and leave that musty-smelling place.

I didn't even like it there!

My God, how am I going to pay my bills? Fuck that old cuckold.

Fuck that old-man

Oh my God, I'm going to have to sell my computer.

I hated my. co-workers anyway.

My God, my computer.

All thoughts were running. through my head in a whirlwind when suddenly I bump into someone in front of me and fall to the ground.

THAT'S ALL I NEEDED!

Without even noticing who it was, I quickly stand up muttering something like, 'I'm sorry'; and I offer my hand to the stranger sitting on the floor.

And it is at that moment that, with my hand outstretched, I begin to notice the victim of my lack of attention.

The stranger wore a black blouse with white stripes — or white with black stripes - and black shorts. Her beautiful hair had the roots dyed red, while the rest was dark brown.

I could have sworn I knew her from somewhere.

It's very sudden when I feel her warm touch on my hand - which remained stretched - and I feel the girl partially throw her weight on me to get up.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I should be more careful" she says, with an embarrassed smile.

"I'm the one who apologizes! I've been walking around thinking about nothing and ! ended up bumping into you" I say,

scratching the back of my neck.

"Are you okay? You hit it really hard against the floor" was only when the girl tells me that I notice my throbbing hip.

"I'm great!" I lied knowing full well that the last thing I was in right now was 'great'. "Hm, so, you live here?" the stranger says, acting as if she wants to continue a conversation.

I don't have anything better to do, after all, why not talk?

"No! I live in my house," say, internally cursing myself for the terrible attempt at a joke.

Anyway, she laughed, and I felt my. embarrassment soon go away when I heard the good sound of that laughter.

"Oh got it, you're the funny type, then?"

she asks me, clearly joking.

"That's what they say"

We stare at each other for a while when very quietly, I hear the click of a camera. The girl seems to hear the same thing as I do, when she suddenly grabs my arm and pulls me nto the convenience store next to us.

What the fuck is going on?

She pulls me further into the store and 'hides' behind a food rack.

Holy shit, is she being followed?

My God, could it be that she's a serial killer and I recognized her because of that?

Holy shit, I'm too young to die.

What if...

I am interrupted from my mental breakdown at the sound of his voice.

"Hm, I'm sorry about that. You know how it is, right? Paparazzi are everywhere."

My God, I was right.

She's a serial killer and I'm her next victim. "Are you going to kill me?" my eyes widen as I ask.

"What?" she says to me, visibly confused, "my. name is Billie! I'm a singer."

I let myself take a deep breath when I hear what Billie tells me. Well, at least I won't die today.

"Hey, I really enjoyed talking to you, and I wanted to meet you again" she says, looking deep into my eyes "what do you think about going to a coffee shop with me one of these days?"

Is she asking me out on a date?

"Like a date?"

"Yes!"

"I want to!" I reply promptly, and watch as she rummages through her purse for a pen.

"Here!" She finally finds a blue fine-tipped pen, pulls out my hand, and writes something.

Before I can process what was happening, I feel a small kiss being left on my cheek and watch her walk out of the store with her head down.

When I look into my hand, I read:

"Cafeteria 221B, Baker Street;

03/22, at 9:00 pm.

See ya<3"

Maybe today wasn't such a bad day after all.

#fanfic #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x you #music #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish imagine #imagine #celebrities

[ineedthetargaryenstofuckme]

A hurtful betrayal

Link for part two

Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

You had always thought Aemond loved you.

Of course, you did he respected you he never took whores to his bed and always made sure to tell you that he needed no other woman but you, and yet now you struggle to believe if all the things he said to you were real.

"You have taken another woman to bed." Aemond did not spare you a glance as you entered your shared chambers.

"It is lovely to see you again once more as well dear wife." was all he said.

"Tell me it is not true." the woman begged.

"Tell me that they are just rumors Aemond, please."

His silence was a good enough response.

"So it is true then," she said, defeated.

"Issa jorrāelagon-" Aemond began. (My love)

"NO- NO DON'T YOU DARE CALL ME THAT! YOU PROMISED ME! YOU SWORE THAT YOU SHALL NEVER DO THIS TO ME!" she began to yell.

"I thought you were different," she said as her tears began to fall.

Aemond stared at his wife's heartbroken expression, wishing that he had the power to turn back time and undo this mistake just so he can never see that look on her face ever again.

"I was so stupid to think you wouldn't hurt me." she began to laugh.

"Little dragon." Aemond tried to approach her.

The prince felt his heart break even more when she backed away from him.

"Don't- I can't even look at you right now and to think that I was so ecstatic to tell you of what I learned a moon ago-"

"My love I beg of you to-"

"I am with child."

Aemond looked stunned at her declaration.

"What?"

"I said I am with child, husband. The measter says your seed had taken root a moon ago."

"I will ask for moon tea to be brought to our chambers now if that is what you wish."

His wife's words were what snapped him out of his trance.

"What?" Aemond said in disbelief.

"I'd assume you wouldn't be joyful of this news considering this will likely anger your new whore." his wife responded.

"Little dragon, of course, I would be pleased by this, you carry our child," Aemond says as he tries to approach her once more but grimaces when she once again evaded his touch.

"Do not act as if you care." his wife spat.

"Issa jorrāelagon, I do care-"

"Then why? If you care for me why must you do what my father did to my mother? Why did you do what you did? Have you lied to me all this time about loving me?"

"It was a mistake-" Aemond tried to explain but was cut off by the humorless laugh of his wife.

"A mistake?"

"I do not love her I love you." Aemond grasped his wife's hands with his own.

"I don't believe you," she told him, her usually bright eyes that he loves so much devoid of any emotions.

The young woman didn't know what to believe in anymore.

"I believe we should spend time apart, husband," she said her tone as cold as ice.

She left abruptly after that not giving her husband any time to respond while also leaving with a heavy heart.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #angst

[onlycosmere]

Knights of Wind and Truth preview

Brandon Sanderson: Jasnah found it difficult to sleep. A part of her wanted to blame this stupid bed. Wit adored plushness; he wanted a mattress that would swallow a person, and he had found her previous one to be unsuitable. So now she swam in stuffing, lying on her side, listening to his breathing.

Wit didn’t snore when he slept, but he did occasionally whistle. She turned to her other side–which, since they both tended to sink toward the center of this awful mattress, should have jostled him. He just laid there on his back, whistling softly as he exhaled. Was he even actually asleep? Things he’d said to her indicated that perhaps he went to other places at night around the Cosmere, visiting other worlds, engaging in political machinations at which, even still, she could only guess.

“You lie to me sometimes,” she whispered to him. “You realized that means it can’t be a true relationship. I can trust someone with secrets—but someone who lies?” If he was aware, despite his sleep, he didn’t say anything.

She’d caught him so far only in the most mundane of ways. He’d engage with wordplay with her, or toy with puns, and she’d ask him to stop. He’d promise, and seem to have done what he said. But then she’d notice that the games hadn’t stopped; they’d only grown more inscrutable. Wit, twisting the wordplays to a deeper level, another layer of esoteric, more difficult to spot. He seemed to think it would engage her, push her. Instead, it signaled something disturbing. Wit would do what he thought was best for people, not what they wanted from him.

Despite her efforts, she knew she wasn’t connecting to him physically as much as he’d like. That made him feel anxious, as if he were doing something wrong. He thought if he listened better, tried harder, he’d do something mind-blowing and change the way she felt.

In turn, though, she wasn’t connecting to him on an emotional level. Something she did want—if only he’d be up front with her. If only he’d tell her.

She turned back on the other side; a stiff pillow did little to counteract the strange stuffing. The feathers of baby chickens; or perhaps the smallest feathers of adult chickens? She hadn’t been able to parse the way he’d said, but either way, she didn’t like it. A good lavis-husk mattress was far superior, shredded to not have awkward lumps.

Storms. And this is why it was best to avoid relationships. Nine days until Dalinar confronted Odium, and she was worrying about a relationship? Perhaps this was a way to distract herself; because despite all of her training, all of her learning, all of her preparation, it came down to someone else. She would have no part in the final confrontation; Dalinar had decided he would use no champion.

She did not dispute that choice. He was a Bondmsith. He had built the Knights Radiant. He’d had dealings with Odium and understood the creature better than, perhaps, any mortal. Jasnah had written out her reasons that he was the best choice, and she still agreed with them.

Yet… could it have been her? If, instead of hiding what she was, she’d gone out in the open? Told people what she was, what she could do, what she feared? Her life and Dalinar’s life seemed to be very different things. He’d burned a city in the open, and people forgave him. Yet when Jasnah had been honest about what she feared, what she believed, what she discovered… well, condemnation and judgement had chased her like twin headsmen, each looking to get a whipping in before the final execution. She’d barely stayed ahead of them. Because when Jasnah Kholin spoke her mind, people hated her. Perhaps she had learned the wrong lessons from that. But could she be blamed?

She curled up at that thought, listening to the quiet sounds of Urithiru. Water in the pipes, moving of its own accord. Air whispering as it was pumped through vents. Voices echoing far outside, despite the late hour. Trembling there, she realized, finally, why she hated this mattress so much. It reminded her of the soft restraints they’d given her when she’d been young. When those who loved her had taken away her own freedom for her own good. Those terrible months that basically everyone had forgotten about as an anomaly. Except by Jasnah, who would never forget.

Wit suddenly sat up in bed. “Oh, hell,” he whispered.

Jasnah became alert. It wasn’t difficult, considering how far from sleep she’d been. She formed Ivory as a blade—short, stout, basically just a dagger—and called for her armorspren to be ready. She reached for the cover of the bowl of spheres beside the bed, but did not remove the black shroud, lest she ruin her night vision. In a second, she could have Stormlight, but she hesitated on this, too, as the light rising from her skin would highlight her in the darkness.

Wit sat there, barely visible by moonlight, wearing his silken nightclothes. His hair was immaculate, despite having slept on it. How?

“What?” she finally hissed at him.

“Oh, bollocks!” he whispered, leaping from the bed. “The darkest, hairiest, greasiest bollocks on the most unkept nethers of the most wanton demon of the most obscure religion’s damnable hellscape!”

“Wit?” Jasnah said as he rushed to the counter, searching frantically among his things. “Wit!”

He looked at her, wild-eyed, then he pulled the shroud off some spheres and washed the room in light.

She blinked, dismissing her blade. If Wit wasn’t worried about blinding them, then this wasn’t a physical danger. It might just be another of his strange <range of> oddities. Except… the way he looked at her. Eyes like glowing spheres. Lips drawn without even a hint of a smile. Jaw taut, hands clenched, breathing quick. Genuine panic. She felt like summoning her blade again, if only to have something to hold as a chill went through her. “Wit, she said, “please. What’s wrong?”

“G-give me a moment,” he mumbled, turning back to his things. “I need… I need a moment.” He pulled out a notebook and began writing.

She rose and, though the air was warm—her mother’s transformations to Urithiru heating the air to unnatural levels for this elevation—she felt cold in only her nightgown. She threw on a robe and leaned over Wit’s shoulder. She couldn’t read what he wrote. The symbols were unfamiliar, one of the many languages he could speak from worlds beyond theirs. It looked like a table, though, not paragraphs. And those notations to the left of each line? The dots and lines? Numbers, perhaps? They repeated far more often than the other symbols did.

He wrote, increasingly furious, his handwriting growing sloppy. She didn’t miss that he’d gotten out some of the strange, color-changing sand he used sometimes when experimenting with various uses of Stormlight or other, more arcane abilities. And as he did, he seemed to grow more intense.

The doors began to shake. Jasnah had a sword in hand a second later, but then realized it was him. Nobody was on the other side; it was exerting some kind of strange pressure that made the doors vibrate. The rings in her jewelry box, also on the counter, pushed back and began to spill onto the floor. The shoes by her head scooted across the floor, pulled by their latches. Every bit of metal in the room, save for her sword, reacted to him in some way.

Then, the sand burst into light with a mother-of-pearl luminescence and hovered above the table. The filmy clothing on Wit’s back began to writhe and contort as if alive. His motions increasingly frantic, in a flash, it seemed like smoke expelled from his body, blown away by some invisible wind. He was another person. Similar, but different. Shorter, with stark white hair and subtly different features making him seem foreign. This is the real him, she realized. A man not from their world; a man who masqueraded as Wit.

That man turned to her, pencil snapping in his fingers as he grabbed it and broke it across a knuckle. “I’ve been tricked,” he said.

“How,” she asked.

The light of the sand went out, and it sprayed back down on the counter. Wit was back as his familiar self in a blink of an eye, and the odd effects stopped with an abrupt immediacy, as if on an order from him. He stood, again taller than she was, and held up what he’d written. “I’m missing,” he said, “three minute and twenty-seven seconds.”

“I’m not following, Wit,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I’m trying to parse this, but… Storms, what’s happening? Sorry, I’m sorry,” he said, slumping back onto the seat beside the stone counter, a natural feature of the room that jutted from the wall, as was common in these rooms of Urithiru. “I’ve lived a long time, Jasnah. A long, long time. Longer than any mortal’s memories can track, so I must use other means to maintain myself. I store memories in something called Breath: an easily accessible, if costly, form of Investiture that a person can adopt and, with training, use to expand one’s soul and memory. That part isn’t specifically important; I periodically review memories, deciding on what is vital to keep and what can be jettisoned. It is one of the only ways to remain sane after such a long existence as mine. And in that review just earlier, Jasnah, I found something. Something unexpected. Something terrifying.”

“Three minutes and twenty-seven seconds?” she whispered, looking again at the notes on his page. As if by force of will, she could decipher them. “Missing. When?”

“One day ago,” he said.

“And what were you doing at the time?”

He let out a long breath, then met her eyes. “I was having a chat with Odium.”

“A chat?” she said flatly. “With the most ancient enemy of all humankind? The being that seeks to destroy us, to crush my family, to dominate—perhaps weaponize—all of Roshar for his own ends? A chat?”

“We have a history,” Wit explained. “As I believe I’ve told you.”

Jasnah pulled a chair over and sank down, feeling a spike of pain. A kind of final spike of pain. “I asked you, Wit,” she whispered. “I asked you to involve me in any dealings you had with him.”

“I’m telling you now, dear,” he said. “That is technically involving you.”

She held his eyes and knew. Perhaps he did, too. He will continue to be himself, a man so full of secrets he needed some kind of strange magic to keep them all inside his head. And one, it appeared, had been excised. There would never be a place for her inside of his deepest self, would there? She’d always just be another thing on the outside, maintained as part of his collection. Enjoyed, perhaps even loved, but never confided in.

In that moment, she knew she’d have to withdraw, for herself. She tucked away feelings of betrayal. She had known what she was getting into with him. One did not court a god lightly.

“Why?” she asked him. “What were you saying to him?”

“I…” he shrugged. “I had to gloat a little. It was requisite, Jasnah, considering our history.” His eyes became distant. “I remember feeling odd about the encounter… a sense of repetition? Something happened that day in the lost minutes. He got the better of me and excised the memory from my mind, letting me instead think I had won the exchange. I can find the remnants, now that I look, as it was awkwardly done, as if by one unfamiliar.”

“This is wrong, isn’t it?” she said.

“Very wrong. Rayse is a megalomaniac, Jasnah. For all his craftiness, it would hurt him to let me walk away thinking I’d bested him. In this case, he encouraged it.” Wit leaned forward and took her hand. “He’s grown. After ten thousand years, Rayse has actually learned something. That terrifies me. Because I can’t anticipate what he will do.”

“Then what?”

“We need to reread the contract between him and Dalinar,” Wit said. “Now.”

Jasnah had a copy nearby, but before she’d opened her ledger, a pounding on a <nearish> door, real this time, drew her attention. She passed out of the bedroom, through the sitting room, and eased open the outer door to reveal <Hemnid> of the Cobalt Guard. A man with discretion to match his general poise, she trusted him as much as she trusted any, so she wasn’t bothered as he glanced at Wit as he approached. “What?” she said to him, light spilling from the guardroom into her quarters.

“Radiant Shallan and Highprince Adolin have something to report,” he whispered. [Brandon: I’m gonna cut that out so you have some anticipation for what’s coming.] “Your uncle has called for a meeting immediately, despite the hour.”

“Tell him I’ll be there shortly,” she said, then closed the door, looking back into the darkened sitting room towards Wit. [Brandon skips another section.]

“It should be,” Wit said. “I need to study that contract. There might be loopholes.”

“And if you didn’t see them?” She said. “You didn’t before.”

“You’re right,” he said. He took a deep breath. “You’re… you’re right. We need an expert, beyond even my considerable knowledge in the area.”

“Do you know any?”

“From your world?” he asked. “Only one, but she and I aren’t on speaking terms. I will, instead, see if I can contract an old friend.”

#the stormlight archive #knights of wind and truth #cosmere #brandon sanderson #cfsbf #root #wob #kind of #long post #cosmere future

[edenmemes]

stranger things s4 starters

❝ how are you feeling today? ❞   ❝ what have you done? ❞   ❝ you speak of monsters, superheroes. that’s the stuff of myth and fairytales. ❞   ❝ are you stalking me or something? ❞   ❝ i know it’s a lot of blood, but you’re going to be okay. ❞   ❝ it’s like you’re not even here anymore. it’s like you’re a ghost. ❞   ❝ i can only help you if you’re truthful. if you open up to me. ❞   ❝ it’s okay to not be okay. ❞   ❝ even with it staring you in the face, you can’t admit it. can’t admit you’re wrong. ❞   ❝ it’s just scary to open up like that. to say how you really feel. especially to people you care about the most. ❞   ❝ i think maybe a part of me died that day too. ❞   ❝ it looks like a fairytale. a dream. ❞   ❝ everyone looks at me like...like i’m a monster. ❞   ❝ you start to believe all the things they say. that this place is cursed. ❞   ❝ do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind? ❞   ❝ look, i’m just trying to turn that frown upside down. ❞   ❝ this year is my year. i can feel it. ❞   ❝ i’m afraid you can become lost in the darkness. ❞   ❝ why do you keep pushing me away? ❞   ❝ i want today to be about me and you. ❞   ❝ if they wanna find out who you are, they will. ❞   ❝ please, just go away. ❞   ❝ only by facing all of ourselves, the good and the bad, can we become whole. ❞   ❝ i play that moment back in my head all the time. ❞   ❝ so much has happened since you left. ❞   ❝ did i survive? no, i assure you, i am still very much in hell. ❞   ❝ you are scared. you’re tired. you are injured. ❞   ❝ you’re not what i thought you’d be like. ❞   ❝ i just want to say thanks for saving my ass back there. ❞   ❝ hey, we don’t need to do this. ❞   ❝ you think because you demonstrate some talent that you’re somehow immune to the rules? ❞   ❝ why is this on me? why am i the bad guy? ❞   ❝ never tell me the odds. ❞   ❝ i don’t even know how to describe it. i’ve never seen anything like it. ❞   ❝ there’s nothing to worry about. okay? ❞   ❝ sorry. didn’t mean to scare you. ❞   ❝ now, where does it hurt? ❞   ❝ this place and the people here are not what you think. ❞   ❝ i am different. i do not belong. ❞   ❝ so, um, are we just not gonna talk about it? ❞   ❝ just try to take some deep breaths. ❞   ❝ if i show you something, you wouldn’t tell anyone, right? ❞   ❝ people just change, okay? that’s it. ❞   ❝ you gotta stop pretending to be someone else. ❞   ❝ i was so excited to see you, it was hard to breathe. ❞   ❝ i’ll smile as i watch them die a slow, agonizing death. ❞   ❝ thirty seconds or i leave without you, okay? ❞   ❝ well, well. aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? ❞   ❝ i...i didn’t mean to scare you. ❞   ❝ looks like it’s gonna be up to us again. ❞   ❝ i’m sorry. i’m having trouble understanding any of this. ❞   ❝ i believe you are our best hope. our only hope. ❞   ❝ you’re bright red in the face right now. ❞   ❝ i think it’ll be easier if we’re a team. ❞   ❝ you can’t run from me. ❞   ❝ we’re running out of time here. the world is running out of time. ❞   ❝ everyone i love, i hurt. ❞   ❝ you don’t even seem nervous. i’m impressed. ❞   ❝ what if i’m not good? what if i’m the monster? ❞   ❝ do you flee or stand your ground and fight? ❞   ❝ in dark days like this, we need something to believe in. ❞   ❝ what you’ve been through, what you’re still going through...it’s a lot for anyone. ❞   ❝ i’m not moping. ❞   ❝ there’s not that many. we can take ‘em. ❞   ❝ you remind me of someone. someone i used to know very well. ❞   ❝ we have a big fight ahead of us. ❞   ❝ so, that is it? you give up, then? ❞   ❝ did you get some rest? i have a feeling you’re gonna need it. ❞   ❝ it’s okay. you can admit it. no more lies. ❞   ❝ sounds too good to be true, yes? ❞   ❝ you’ll have to excuse the staring. you’re a bit of a celebrity. ❞   ❝ do you really expect me to believe anything you have to say? ❞   ❝ the way you looked at me. you...you were scared of me. ❞   ❝ small world, isn’t it? it’s a small world. ❞ ❝ i promise i’m gonna stop asking this, but...you’re seeing that too, right? ❞   ❝ i’ve really missed that. your laugh. ❞   ❝ i will do anything for you. ❞   ❝ you have demons in your past. ❞   ❝ you have more important things to worry about. ❞       ❝ i actually thought you’d be kinda mean and scary. ❞   ❝ i don’t want you to go. ❞   ❝ i’ve given you everything you asked for. i’ve compromised my principles. i’ve risked my life. ❞   ❝ you didn’t think it would be that easy, did you? ❞   ❝ or what? are you gonna shoot me? ❞   ❝ they’re laughing. at you. they think you’re weak. ❞   ❝ i know. you’re frightened of me. ❞ ❝ like i said...we’re alike, you and i. ❞   ❝ who knew something so small could cause so much trouble? ❞       ❝ you know, i think there’s a part of you, buried somewhere deep, that wanted me to die that day. ❞   ❝ if you want to make it out of here alive, you must do exactly as i say. ❞   ❝ i understand the stakes quite well. ❞   ❝ you can’t hurt me more than they already have. ❞   ❝ whatever comes out of there...hold your ground. ❞   ❝ you...you’re not supposed to be here. ❞   ❝ you know you can talk to me. ❞   ❝ i know what it’s like to be different. ❞   ❝ you helped me. now i help you. ❞   ❝ i don’t believe in all that supernatural crap, all right? ❞   ❝ why are you staring at me? ❞   ❝ see? there’s nothing to be afraid of. ❞ ❝ imagine what we could do together. ❞   ❝ the more you move, the more this is gonna hurt. ❞   ❝ no one ever comes out here. we’re safe. ❞   ❝ i’m going to try to forget you said any of that. ❞   ❝ my heart can’t take it anymore. ❞   ❝ for a while i tried to be happy. normal. ❞  

#rp meme #roleplay meme #roleplay starters #st spoilers #stranger things spoilers