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#I love when he fights back the others saying “i should never let you help me”
andvys · 1 day
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
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Chapter seventeen ⭐︎ What am I supposed to do? If there’s no you.
Warnings: slight angst, mentions of unrequited love, mean!robin, slight jealousy, this chapter is mostly written from Robin's pov and there are only a few moments of Steve's and Blondie's pov
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Robin uncovers Steve's secrets and more... but he doesn't get the reactions from her that he expected.
Word count: 6k+
Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with some new ideas for the story and uh, buckle up and enjoy it... hehehe also thanks for helping me, my love
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter
Steve’s smile seems permanent nowadays, never falling, always lingering, even when Keith is scolding him about something he had done wrong or hadn’t done at all. 
His skin is glowing and his eyes are full of happy emotions, he seems giddy, always excited about something. 
Until now, Robin was sure that she had seen him happy before – when he saw her again after she went on a two weeks trip with her mom, when his favorite movie came out and he dragged her to the theater, when he found the perfect brown coat that he had been looking for at every store for weeks. 
And yes, he was happy in these moments, but this, the happiness that is stuck on his face now, is something else, something different, something deep.
And whatever it is that is making him happy, should make her feel the same way, because he is her best friend, and all that she wants for him is exactly this – happiness. But how can she feel any positive emotions, when he is keeping secrets from her? When he isn’t letting her be part of this? When he is cutting her out? 
Robin was always sure that they would never keep secrets from each other, but it’s happening, it’s happening again for her, being pushed aside, being left out, losing a best friend – because this is what it is, right? She is losing him, he is beginning to cut her out of his life, not telling her things he would’ve normally not shut up about, because he talks about everything with her, at least he used to. 
This is how it always begins, this is always the first step of losing a friend. She is no stranger to it. 
But it hurts, it hurts worse than it ever did before. 
Because this is Steve, someone she considers a soulmate. 
Someone she thought would never do this to her. 
“What’s with the grumpy face?” Steve asks, pulling her out of her depressing thoughts. 
Robin raises her eyebrows, looking away from the passing trees, she sinks deeper into the passenger seat and turns her head to look at him, shrugging. 
“Is everything okay?” Steve asks as he glances at her with a look of concern. 
No. 
She should say no and confront him but she doesn’t know how without making things awkward, without pressuring him to talk, without risking losing him sooner than later. 
“Yeah,” she mumbles and reaches for the backpack between her feet, busying herself with it as she rummages through the tiny pockets to find her chapstick. 
“Are you sure?”
She can’t help but roll her eyes at the skeptic tone in his voice, she keeps her head low, gaze locking onto the chapstick she has been looking for, she picks it out and leans back again. 
“Yeah, just tired,” she murmurs. 
Steve keeps glancing back and forth between her and the road, holding the steering wheel tightly as he shoots her a teasing smirk, lowering the volume of the song playing. 
“Long night with Vickie?” 
Her lips twitch and despite the annoyance bubbling inside of her, her cheeks heat up, growing darker until she’s blushing red. She applies her chapstick, welcoming the peach taste on her lips. She can feel his eyes on her, and it only makes her blush deeper as she hides her face from him. 
It confirms his question and it makes him chuckle. 
“I’m glad you’re having fun, Robin.”
“Shut up,” she murmurs under her breath, unable to fight the redness off her cheeks. She closes the chapstick again, putting the cap back into place, she leans down to put it back in her backpack when it falls from her hands and rolls under the seat, making her groan and curse in annoyance. 
“Always turning into a klutz when you’re nervous,” Steve comments, causing her to glare at him. 
“I’m not nervous.”
Steve chuckles, narrowing his eyes at her, “yes you are, I mention Vickie and you’re turning into a blushing, nervous little girl with a first crush even though she is literally your girlfriend.” 
“That is so not true!” She gapes at him, despite it being true. 
He shakes his head in amusement, “yes it is, in case you forgot, you’re my best friend, I know you like the back of my hand and right now, you’re nervous!” 
Maybe his words should put her mind at ease, maybe they should be enough to show her that she is not losing him, after all, but it’s not that easy, is it? 
She only rolls her eyes in response and looks away, turning back to the window and looking out at the downtown streets now. She feels relieved to see the Family Video sign, looking forward to jumping out of his car and throwing herself into work so she can stop thinking about her depressing thoughts and giving into the fears of losing him. 
Maybe she is just overthinking, the way she always does. 
The moment Steve stops the car, Robin gets out and slams the door, opening the one to the backseat so she can look for her chapstick. She leans down and squints her eyes, patting the car mats before she stretches her arm out under the seat, trying to find it. 
Steve walks around the car and stops in front of her, his eyes flash with amusement as he takes in the sight of his best friend, her eyebrows squished together, tongue poking out between her lips, her body angled uncomfortably as she searches for her newest chapstick. 
“I swear to god is there a portal all my chapsticks vanish to?” She grumbles.
Steve snorts at her words, “yeah, I’m sure they all pile up in the upside down somewhere.” 
“I wouldn’t be surprised! Every time I buy a new chapstick it just fucking disappears!” 
“That’s because you leave them everywhere,” Steve chuckles, placing his hands on his hips as he keeps watching instead of helping. His grin grows when she throws the middle finger at him. 
The look of concentration on Robin’s face, transforms into something else, confusion and curiosity, her brows shoot up instead, her lips parting as she reaches for not only her chapstick but also something else, something soft, something lacy. She pulls it out from under the seat, hooking it around her pointer finger, she holds it up in front of her face, examining it before revealing it to Steve. 
A lacy thong. 
One that clearly belongs to a girl. 
One that surely wasn’t there a few weeks back when she helped him clean his car. 
So her suspicions weren’t right, after all – she would’ve been surprised if they were. 
Steve has been so secretive about whoever it is that he is seeing, she knows that they don’t belong to any of the girls he was hooking up with at the beginning of this year, and she doesn’t even need to see his face to confirm something she already knows. 
But if it isn’t one of them and if it isn’t a guy after all, who is he seeing? 
Is it someone he is ashamed of? 
Is that the reason why he is being so secretive, why he keeps sneaking around behind her back and not telling her the truth about something he wouldn’t have shut up about if it were anyone else? 
“Robin?” 
Steve’s voice snaps her out of her thoughts and she slowly turns around to face him, with the thong in one hand and her chapstick in the other. 
His hands fall off his hips, his hazel eyes grow wide, his lips part and his cheeks grow a cherry red when he sees the flimsy material hanging off her finger. 
For a moment, she forgets about his secrets and how much it hurts her that he is hiding from her. The look on his face is so comical, she can’t even help but let the giggles tumble from her lips as she raises back to full height, standing right in front of him as she laughs in his face. 
His cheeks grow redder and redder, making her laugh harder. 
“I-I uh–” Steve stutters, unable to come up with words to say. 
“I-I uh,” Robin mocks him through her giggles, “whose are these?” She asks as she lets them dangle in front of his face, stretching her arm out. 
Steve rolls his eyes at her, his blush continuing to grow beneath her gaze. His shoulders slump and his mind panics as he tries to think of what to say. 
What can he say? 
That these belong to Heidi or Linda or whoever else it was that he had boring sex with before you? 
Steve can’t even bring himself to lie, not even to save himself and you. 
He can’t mention another girl, just uttering these words would make him feel awful. He can’t do it. He just can’t. 
“Hm?” Robin tilts her head, wiggling her brows at him.
As he stands in front of her and he looks into her curious eyes that are layered with something more, he can’t help but wonder what would happen if he just told her. He wants to talk about it, he wants to talk about you, he wants to talk about his feelings that he could only keep to himself so far. 
But what would Robin think knowing how horrible he was to you? How horrible you have both been to each other? 
She would try to talk some sense into him and make him stop this thing between you and he isn’t ready to let this go, he will never be. 
So he turns around and leaves her question unanswered, knowing that she won’t stop until she gets the truth out of him and it makes him nervous but what can he do? 
He doesn’t see the way her shoulders slump, the way her eyes cross with defeat, the way she sighs and looks down. 
“Come on, we got more important things to do then talk about thongs, Robin.” 
“Right,” she murmurs as her teasing smile slowly falls, she throws the black lace back into the car and slams the door before she follows him into the store, staring at his back as she walks behind him. 
Steve greets Keith a little kinder than usual, he walks with his back straight and his head held high, he whistles as he makes his way into the office to clock in and she stays quiet, watching closely, observing him and the fresh hickeys on his neck, the ones that haven’t been there yesterday afternoon when he dropped her off at Vickie’s. It’s always the same exact spot, sometimes his neck is littered in them but there is always that one special spot that never misses the mark on his skin, that little spot behind his ear. 
That’s how she knows that it’s only one girl that he is seeing and she is also the reason why he is turning down all the others that have been shooting their sickly sweet smiles at him. Something he wouldn’t have done a few months back. 
“Are you bringing Vickie tonight?” Steve asks as he throws on his vest, “to game night, I mean?” 
Robin furrows her brows, looking over her shoulder at him, “game night? I figured we’d never do that again after what happened with you and uh… Blondie,” she chuckles nervously. 
Something in his eyes shifts, something in his demeanor changes for a moment. Sadness, anger and regret crosses his features and she sees it all so clearly but she isn’t surprised, she didn’t mean to strike a nerve but she knows she did. 
He felt awful after the words he threw at you, that night. 
And knowing him, he still feels the same even when you get along now. 
But there is something else in his eyes, something she can’t figure out yet. 
Steve breaks eye contact and he scratches the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes trained on the ground. 
“I uh, yeah that will never happen again.” 
She doesn’t quite understand the meaning his words hold. 
And at that time, she also doesn’t know yet, that only a few hours later, she will finally get closer to the answers she has been seeking, that her eyes will be more open to what is happening right in front of her nose. 
Because that night, she notices something she hasn’t paid much attention to before but a feeling inside of her, tells her that she should have done that a long time ago. 
And maybe, maybe she is just seeing things that aren’t there, that her eyes betray her and want to give her something just so she can put her mind to rest but even after rubbing her eyes, even after squinting and trying to see with a clear mind, the sight in front of her is still there and very much real.
The noises from the living room, the chatter of her friends and the giggles of her girlfriend as Dustin tells her a story, fade into distance as she steps closer and closer to the kitchen where Steve had disappeared to, moments after you have left the living room to get another drink. 
You’re standing by the window, face to face and way too close for two people who couldn’t even be near each other, a few months ago. A smile is resting on your face, matching his own. 
Steve leans closer to you, whispering words that Robin can’t make out from this distance and it annoys her to no end because she wants to know what he said to you, what exactly made you giggle in a way she never heard you do. 
This is strange, this is so very strange – it shouldn’t be, and maybe she wouldn’t even think anything of it had you not been fighting all the time not too long ago, because after all, you two could be just friends who are gossiping about something, the hushed whispers and the amused giggles indicate it at least. 
But you aren’t friends, are you? 
You are still just Steve and Blondie, forced to be around each other because of your mutual friends, forced to get along to keep the peace. 
But maybe things are changing, maybe you are actually getting along now and not because of her or Eddie or even the teens, maybe you are just becoming friends, actual friends.
This is the only explanation to what she is seeing. 
Anything else would just be… unbelievable. 
And still, she decides to keep a closer eye on Steve and you. 
Her suspicions and thoughts she deemed as ‘crazy’ become less and less crazy as time passes and she continues to pay attention to you both, how you talk to each other, how you act around each other, how you look at each other, how Steve behaves when he is around you. 
It’s so obvious and it’s so right in front of everyone’s faces and still, she doubts that her suspicions hold any meaning, too insane are the thoughts in her head. 
But then the signs start showing – from the pink scrunchie in his car, to the cherry chapstick on his nightstand and the second toothbrush in his bathroom, from the perfume that always lingers on his clothes to the cologne on yours, from the moments you are both not around to the lies he speaks into the phone when she asks why he didn’t come to movie night at Eddie’s place. 
And as she grows more aware of his weird behavior and yours, she also notices that there is someone else who is acting differently – Eddie. 
She notices the way he looks at you and Steve, the way the latter is getting warning glances and glares, the way you are getting soft ones filled with pity and it confirms it all to her. 
You are Steve’s mystery girl. 
Eddie knows, why can’t she know? 
Does Steve feel embarrassed about you and your shared history of hatred? 
Questions keep piling up in her brain and instead of confronting her best friend about it all, she keeps it all to herself, hoping that she won’t have to confront him at all, hoping for him to tell her about it all when he feels comfortable to, hoping that nothing changed between them, that she is still his best friend, that he will still talk to her. 
But her wishes don’t come true, Steve doesn’t make the first move, he continues on with the secrets and the lies, he doesn’t notice the implies that she makes when she asks him what he is doing on evenings he isn’t with her and the group, or the way she subtly begins to mention you. 
She doesn’t even need the confirmation anymore as days continue to pass, she figures it out on her own, she knows for sure now, her suspicions are no longer… suspicions. And yet, a certain moment, a certain sight that plays right in front of her, still shocks her. 
In Hopper’s backyard is where you all find yourselves on a warm Saturday evening, the chatter is loud and the laughter echoes through the garden. The smell of freshly cut grass lingers in the air, as does the smell of sizzling meat from the grill. 
Eddie brought Wayne with him, the older man chuckling at his nephew as he watches him stuffing his face with burgers, continuously complimenting Hopper’s ‘cooking’ skills to which the latter laughs. 
Robin snorts at Eddie, she can’t tell whether he’s high or just really hungry but the faded look in his eyes gives him away, she blames Argyle for that. 
“You should try his waffles!” El grins at Eddie, “Hop makes the best ones!” 
“You mean the waffles he pops in the toaster?” Jonathan snorts beside her, making his stepdad chuckle. 
“I mean, he puts a lot of stuff on them, it’s really good! Reeses pieces, sprinkles, heavy cream–”
“Ew,” Mike scrunches his nose, shaking his head at his girlfriend, “that’s too much.” 
“Says the boy who puts maple syrup on his scrambled eggs,” Nancy laughs at her brother. 
“Of course he does, Mike has the worst taste,” Dustin snickers before he takes a bite of his steak. “He also loves raisin cookies!” 
“What’s wrong with raisin cookies?” Hopper asks mid chew, furrowing his brows at the teenage boy. 
“Do not insult his raisin cookies,” Joyce points with a fork at Dustin, an amused smile appearing on her face. 
“Oh,” Dustin frowns at the former chief, “you don’t have taste either, damn.” 
While everyone watches the interaction between Dustin and Hopper, amused by the teenage boy and his harmless insults as his conversation with the older man continues. Robin nearly misses the whispers between you and Steve, the smile on your face as you say something to him that she can’t read on your lips. 
You sit next to each other, very closely so. 
It’s the same seats you sat in when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement here, only this time, neither of you seems tense, you’re both relaxed, your features are soft, your smiles are real, your arms are touching and you aren’t avoiding each other the way you once did. 
The pink scrunchie is in your hair, your lips are rosy red, from the cherry chapstick no doubt. Your eyes are glinting with happiness and it seems like a rare sight to Robin – she has seen you smile before, sure, but she had never seen you happy. 
While she paid extremely close attention to her best friend, she didn’t really look closely at you, maybe she should have before. 
She watches the way you push your plate away, leaving a few bites that you can’t seem to finish, you reach for your drink and lean back in your seat, placing your hand on your stomach. 
Robin chews on her veggies, tilting her head as she tries to not make her staring too obvious but it’s difficult to look away from the both of you, especially when Steve does something that makes her eyes widen and her brows furrow in confusion. 
If there is something that Steve always hated, then it was eating leftovers from someone else, he wouldn’t even share a drink or bite into something someone else had bitten into before and yet here he is eating the food you didn’t finish, eating the steak from your plate and you don’t even seem fazed by it, it’s almost as though it’s the most normal thing for you both, like this isn’t weird. 
And she isn’t the only one who is staring in surprise, Eddie is looking at Steve with his big brown eyes. 
Neither of you seem to notice and everyone else is too busy watching Dustin bicker with Hopper to notice her and Eddie’s wide eyes or the very couply behavior from you both. 
One look under the table after accidentally dropping her napkin to the ground gives her the final confirmation when her eyes fall on Steve’s hand on your thigh and yours covering his own, your fingers playing with his. 
Oh. Oh. 
Maybe this should make her feel more surprised than it does, but really, the sight of Steve eating food from your plate nearly knocked her off her chair. 
She is confused, so very confused and lost. 
And more questions than ever before start running through her mind, nearly giving her a whiplash because it’s just too many at once and she doesn’t know how to deal with them, how to keep them to herself, they are starting to boil over and it prompts her to make a decision. 
She’s had enough of his lies and his secrets. 
She never kept anything from him, he never kept anything from her until this, until you. The sight of you suddenly fills her with anger, something she hadn’t felt before, especially not when it came to you. 
You are the reason why her best friend is slipping through her fingers, why isn’t spending time with her the way he did before, why he isn’t talking to her. 
And despite the growing rage you’re firing up inside of her, she can’t look away from you, watching how you whisper into his ear, watching the way you laugh with Eddie and Wayne, the way you help Joyce clean up and chat with Nancy, the way you hug El and Will goodbye and Max too before she hops on the back of Lucas’s bike and leaves with him and Dustin. 
She almost wants to scoff when you get in the backseat of Steve’s car instead of the passenger seat that clearly belongs to you now, you leave your scrunchies here and your lipgloss apparently too as she looks down into the cupholder, rolling her eyes at the tiny bottle. 
The sound of your laughter makes her eyes roll more intensely. Eddie jumps in beside you, neither of you are aware of the scowl on her face. 
Steve notices though, but he doesn’t bring it up, not wanting to make her uncomfortable by asking any questions she might not want to answer in front of you and Eddie. She won’t even look at him, her eyes are glued on her rings as her fingers tap against her jean clad thighs, her jaw is clenched and he can practically feel the tension in her shoulders. 
And it doesn’t go away, not even when he turns her favorite music on, not when he tries to crack a joke, nothing seems to lift her mood these days, and it worries him. 
When he stops the car in your driveway, Eddie is the first to get out, clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder and mumbling a goodbye to him and Robin. You follow suit, smiling at them both before your sneakers hit the cobblestones and you get out as well, about to shut the door when Robin’s voice stops you. 
“Hey, Blondie.” 
The tone in her voice is a mocking one, she only uses Steve’s nickname to tease you with it, but this sounds like something else. 
You poke your head back into the car, eyeing Steve’s side profile before you train your eyes on his best friend, who is now looking back at you with a look in her eyes that is sending chills down your spine. 
“Hmm?”
“Are you spending the night at Steve’s tonight?” 
Your heart stops beating and your breathing stutters in your throat, your eyes grow wide just like Steve’s do. The chills that her looks just caused, running down your whole body and filling you with shock. 
She raises her eyebrows at you, giving you a mocking smile. 
Eddie stands behind you, frozen just like you are. 
Steve holds the steering wheel tightly, staring at his best friend with a pounding heart – he knew she would figure it out, that it would only be a matter of time after what she had found in his car. 
A sigh falls from his lips and he begins to curse at himself inwardly, feeling guilt rushing through him for lying to her, for putting you into this position, he can see the fear in your eyes and he doesn’t quite know what it means, but it makes him want to protect you from the anger in Robin’s features. 
“Robs–”
“If you are, I’m sorry but I need to talk to my best friend tonight… if we are still considered that,” she snaps at you, catching you off guard once again when she turns around after cursing you with a glare. 
Steve furrows his brows at her, pursing his lips as he shakes his head a little. 
“Sweets,” Eddie mumbles behind you, clasping a gentle hand around your elbow, “come on.” 
You blink, nodding to yourself as you gulp down the nervousness. 
Steve looks back at you before you can leave and close the door, you see the way his eyes soften when they meet your own, the way his lips twitch and he tilts his head at you, mouthing a few simple words at you, ones that are enough to give you a sense of comfort after this. 
‘It’s gonna be okay.’
It’s not just a few words, it’s a promise. 
And for some reason, you find it easy to believe, despite the nervousness in your stomach. 
Before you can say anything to him, before you can mouth something back to him, Eddie pulls you away from the car and shuts the door after Robin tells Steve to drive. 
Your best friend puts a comforting hand on your shoulder, eying your worried expression as you watch the burgundy car leave your driveway, speeding down the road and getting lost in the distance. 
A heavy sigh falls from your lips and you bring your hand up towards your face, biting your thumbnail in anxiousness. You turn around to face Eddie, seeing his face so clear despite the darkening night sky. 
He nods at you, “it’s gonna be alright, Robin is just mad, I was mad too, sweetheart… remember that.”
“Yeah but–”
“No buts,” he shakes his head at you, “I don’t– I don’t know where you two are going with this but, I didn’t make you stop, she won’t either.” 
Eddie doesn’t know why he is even encouraging this, knowing very well how badly this could end for you, but the need to comfort you feels so much stronger than thinking logically. 
“Yeah,” you whisper. 
He is right, you know he is. 
You were anxious about losing him before, thinking that Steve might want to stop seeing you after Eddie found out – but he didn’t want to stop, he might not want to stop now either, maybe things will just go back to normal after this night, you won’t let a moment like this crush the hope that has been spreading inside of you in the past weeks. 
You are the only one for Steve, right now, he told you so. 
And there has to be a reason for it. 
The hope in you, isn’t for nothing… right? 
You won’t let Robin take that away from you. 
Eddie’s brown eyes soften even further, he wraps his arm around you and starts leading you to your house, “now come on, we’ll get that ice cream pint from your freezer and watch some movies until we crash out on your couch.” 
You smile at him, feeling grateful to have him here with you. 
“I gotta thank Buckley for ruining your date night with Harrington, I missed our slumber parties.” 
You chuckle, despite the uneasiness in your stomach. 
“I missed them too, Eds.”
-
The tension in the car is so much stronger, so much bigger than it was before because now he knows why Robin was acting so weird, why she always seemed so annoyed and hurt, and he understands it, he really does, but he had his reasons to keep this all a secret from her, yet it does nothing to mend the guilt that spreads through his body. 
He lied to her and the upcoming conversation at his house already fills him with so much nervousness that it makes him grip the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 
Is this the moment where he will lose his best friend? He wonders. 
You didn’t lose Eddie, even though he seemed hurt about your secrets too, you talked it out and everything went back to normal – you didn’t lose Eddie and you didn’t stop seeing him. 
But Robin’s reaction already seems so much worse than Eddie’s, she seems much angrier, much more hurt and the way she looked at you, even made him cower in his seat. 
Was that jealousy on her face before? 
Does she think that you took her spot in his life? 
He parks the car and wastes no second to get out, taking a deep breath of the fresh air he is surrounded by now. He wants to stay here for a moment but Robin has other things in mind. She angrily makes her way up to his front door, marching up the stairs and waiting for him to follow and unlock the door – with a sigh, he complies. 
His hands shake a little as he looks for the house key on his chain, he brushes past her and keeps his gaze down, licking his lips and clearing his throat as he prepares for whatever she is about to hit him with. 
He wanted her to know, he really did, he had been dying to talk to someone about it but he couldn’t risk losing this, losing… you. 
He steps into his home but doesn’t know which way to go, which way to turn to as the gnawing feeling in his chest begins to eat at him.
Steve throws the keys on the counter and turns on the light, flinching a little when she slams the door, he runs his fingers through his hair and turns around to face her. 
He is met by her glare, an unimpressed expression resting on her features as she stands by the door, with her arms crossed over her chest. 
“Do you want something to drink–”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” She interrupts him, showing a sliver of hurt when those words fall from her lips. 
Steve opens his mouth to speak, but she doesn’t let him. 
“I thought I was your best friend,” Robin mumbles with a hurt tone in her voice. 
The tension in his shoulders grows as the need to prove to her that she is still what she always was to him turns him desperate. 
“You are! You are my best friend, Robin!” 
Robin snorts and rolls her eyes at him, “mhm sure, doesn’t seem like it anymore, best friends don’t keep secrets from each other, Dingus!” 
How can he tell her that this is exactly what keeps you both together? 
That the secrets are the only thing making you his? 
Robin’s blue eyes are filled with nothing but rage and as she stares at the man she loves like a brother, she can’t help but scoff. 
“I can’t believe Blondie’s pussy is more important than our friendship.” 
Anger flashes in Steve’s eyes, the mocking tone in her voice makes him frown. 
“What the hell is your problem?” Steve asks in disbelief, not knowing this side of her, this snappy and rude behavior is something new to him. 
Her blue eyes widen and she laughs at him, letting her arms fall to her sides, “my problem is that you were both complete assholes to each other, in front of everyone! And suddenly you start dropping friends – your best friend to be with a girl that you hated! Should I count down all the horrible things you have said about her?” She yells, throwing her arms up. “Or better yet let’s talk about all the horrible things she said to you.” 
“Don’t.” Steve warns her, not wanting to be reminded of his past mistakes. He doesn’t even care about the words you once threw at him, none of them came even close to the hurtful things he said to your face and behind your back, to Tommy and Carol, to Nancy and the teens, to Robin – he can’t forgive himself for it.
Robin buries her hands in her hair, looking at him wide eyed as she laughs again, though not in amusement. 
He understands her hurt, he understands her disapproval of the lies and the secrets but he doesn’t understand her anger towards you. He thought she liked you, he thought you both were getting along. 
“How long has this been going on for?” 
Steve closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he places his hands on his hips. 
He doesn’t need to think about it, he knows exactly how many days and weeks have passed since you started seeing each other. 
“A little over two months.” 
Robin nods with widened eyes, a breathy chuckle falling from her lips before she starts shaking her head, “wow.” 
“Eddie found out by himself, just like you did… we weren’t going to–”
“Tell anyone? Why not?” She asks, growing suspicious of the shakiness in his voice and the panicked look on his face. 
“Because, Robin, it's just… sex!” He says in frustration, like those words are meant to convince her but she can tell that he is struggling and it raises different types of questions in her head. “At least that’s what it was supposed to be…”
He had meaningless relationships and flings before, he felt conflicted about girls and sex a few times but she never saw him like this, so panicked and anxious, so defensive about a girl he once couldn’t stand. 
So she lets the questions tumble from her mouth, pushing him into giving her the answers that she wants and she watches his reactions closely, the way his brows pinch together as his patience starts to wear thin, as the desperation and the frustration clings to his features and his cheeks grow red. 
She can tell that he is trying to keep something to himself but that he is beginning to struggle, it’s going to burst out of him soon enough. 
“What’s your problem with her anyways?” Steve snaps at her, shaking his head in confusion. “I thought you liked her!” 
Yeah, Robin did like you but something about you makes her blood boil now. Those Friday nights Steve never missed to spend with her, slowly stopped. Those small little out of nowhere car rides to the stores in town, or little escapades to the city never happened again. She might have become friends with everyone else in the group… but no one understood her like Steve had. 
And now she knows the reason for her loss… had been you. A person who does not deserve Steve, not even as a friend, not after the past you two had.
“Why are you so defensive about her? I mean are we talking about the same person? She’s had called you so many fucking things in the past, and – being her friend? I might have accepted, now just fucking her!? With what purpose!?”
“There’s no purpose when it comes to that, Robin. It’s just sex and you are over fucking exaggerating!” Steve’s face was getting redder, darker, and his chest was working faster as it took in quicker breaths.
“Over exaggerating!? Well, I am sorry for voicing out the fact you and I have not been hanging out like we always have! All for a girl you hated and she hated you back! And let’s not mention that she is in the same fucking friend group Steve!” She yells at him, taking him aback slightly, “What’s going to happen when you break things off!?”
And he can only blink a few times, gulp, look at her and try to process her words. He slowly shakes his head, making Robin’s tilt to the side in confusion. 
“I am not planning on breaking things off, Robs.” And his answer only angers Robin, because she knows he is a few words away from saying what she thought he was feeling. That he likes you. That he got hooked. Stupidly so.
“Oh, so I guess the sex with her is fucking phenomenal then! Didn’t think Blondie had it in her–”
And Steve explodes. 
“I want her, Robin!” He yells as the truth begins to leave the sacred place inside of him and he can finally speak them into existence. “For fucks sake, after Nancy I never thought I would feel anything of the sort again, and she makes it feel right! All of it! I don’t want her to leave, to leave this, to leave me! I don’t know what you want me to fucking tell you! What else do you expect from me!? To tell you that I’m in love with her!?”
His voice echoes through the hallway and then, silence. 
Nothing but utter silence follows. 
Two pairs of shocked eyes staring into each other. 
His heavy breathing stops and his heart does too for a moment. 
Steve knew it, he knew he was falling for you, that he fell for you and despite it, he wasn’t aware just how bad it had gotten him already, that it was more than feelings, more than a crush, it’s love.
Realization begins to dawn on him and he breaks eye contact and looks away from Robin’s stunned face and focuses his eyes on nothing in particular as he looks at the ground. 
“Holy shit, Steve…” Robin mumbles as her angry eyes soften and sadness and pity takes over, only for him. 
She expected everything but this. 
From the moment she figured it out, she knew that there was more than sex, but she didn’t think that there was this. That his feelings run so deep, that love of all emotions is involved.
“I-I’m… in love with her,” Steve murmurs not to her but to himself. 
Robin can’t tell what he is feeling, knowing that he has only figured it out himself. 
But she knows what she is feeling. 
Out of all the nice girls he could have, it just had to be you. 
A girl incapable of love. 
A girl who will only be another on his list to break his heart, to make him suffer and leave him in tears. 
She won’t let that happen, she won’t let him get his heart broken again, especially not by you. 
But how will she do that? 
There’s shock on his face but happiness in his eyes, his lips twitch and curl into a smile as he lets himself fall into emotions he thought he’d never feel again. 
He is hopeless, as he looks back up at her and she sees the gone look in his eyes, she knows he is hopeless and done for. 
“Fuck… I’m in love with her.” 
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @maroon-cardigan @thecreelhouse @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
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claiestve · 1 day
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𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 ꨄ Dontis
˜”* ❝𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚, 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚.❞
⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴅᴏɴᴛɪꜱ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ.
⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯
"Does this hurt you?" 
You wrapped Dontis’ hands and arms with a bandage. They were covered in scars and heartbreakingly deep cuts. You knew he was strong enough to handle the pain but it still upset you seeing him like this. At least he came back in one piece though, right? Still, you wished he’d be more careful. 
"No."
"Why didn't you take me with you?"
“You need a break from the hunting and the fighting. Why would I take you? Even then, my life was on the line and I would never put yours at the same risk.”
He was awfully serious today. Like, less bubbly and gentle. You could tell why, he was injured in every place imaginable and he just came back from defending himself and other people. No matter how long someone’s been alive, that’s something that’ll forever shake them. Nonetheless, you wished he lightened up a bit. It was usually you that’d be the pessimistic one. Not that he was being negative, just, less positive. 
“Maybe if I was there, this wouldn’t happen.”
“Yeah, to me. It’d happen to you and then I’d be here caressing your hands, flirting with you, and making you feel bad.”
“I am not flirting with you, Dontis. I’m trying to help you.”
“Lying won’t get you anywhere, dear.”
You rolled your eyes at his remark. All you wanted was for him to be safe and healthy and you wished more than anything that you were there. You knew he could handle himself. He’s not incompetent but you just have that instinct for your dear incubus.
“And… Done! Can you move your arm well enough?”
“Ah, yeah. Thank you.”
He adjusted himself onto the bed and laid back. He seemed more tense than usual. You narrowed it down to him just being in a lot of pain. It made sense, he came to you with his arms practically painted with blood. Those cuts were deep too. 
“Are you going to keep staring or will you join me?” He smiled at you. 
“I mean, do you want me to?”
“It would make me feel better.”
He opened his arms out for you as you adjusted yourself. Dontis loved doing that, holding you. He loved to have you in his arms, on his chest, and breathing at the same pace as him. You loved it just as much. Though, you’d never admit it and you’d never ask to cuddle. 
When he finally had you, he wrapped his arm around your back, having your chest face his. His grip was more secure than usual. 
“Dontis?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay?”
“Ah,” He cleared his throat, “Yeah? Why? Do I seem off? I’m sorry if I do.”
That. Right there. Not that Dontis was impolite, because he wasn’t, but he was unapologetically himself. That’s who he is and has been since you’ve met him. But right now, he’s apologizing for… acting strange?
“Dontis. You can talk to me. Actually, no. Please talk to me.”
He used his free hand to hold one of yours, playing with your fingers. 
“I suppose I’ve just been thinking a lot. I’m a survivor of something huge and I made it out with my friend and his love. I should feel accomplished and I do.”
“But?”
“But I can’t. I can’t dwell on this. I have a purpose, to comfort. It seems my kind only live to serve their purpose. I don’t want to though. I want to live my life and with people, I love without only serving my purpose. I do love comforting people but if I could just have a domestic life with you and settle…”
“Why can’t you?”
“It’s not in my blood. I’m not even supposed to think about it. You shouldn’t be the one listening to me anyway. Just… act like I didn’t say anything.”
You unraveled your intertwined fingers and held his hand by the palm. Caressing your hand, Dontis hummed, knowing you would put him in check. 
“Dontis. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like it’s okay, don’t.”
“You’re not supposed to be my therapist, that’s my job.”
He tried to pull his hand away from yours. It didn’t work. You wouldn’t let him push this aside. You wanted him to know that you were there for him no matter what. 
“I don’t care what your job is, Dontis. It doesn’t matter. I’m here for you no matter what. Yeah, your kind have things you’re ‘meant to do’ but Dontis, you’re so much more than that. You’re more than what you were born as, okay?”
“Thank you. You know, you’re kind of good at this. Maybe you’ve learned some things from yours truly.” He teased. 
It was nice to see him being playful again and embracing his personality. He knew he wasn’t alone in this as long as you were here and that’s all you wanted. 
“I love you, okay?”
“I know, dear hunter, I love you too.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
haihaihaihai!!!
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celibibratty · 5 months
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today we rewatched this big hero(since now i/we don't have problem with it anymore), i'll have to admit this hiro is kinda of……a cutie(the part where the dudes are in the island and has a pigeon that scared them, it's cute to notice that this hiro go hide behind this baymax, that was cute), but i don't see him in that way, he is too boyish for my taste(this dude is kirito-kun, he has almost 2 or more suitors in the series, no way, and i know the things that can invent too), i don't see why people see daniel on him, he doesn't remind me of daniel(maybe because he sounds more mature than daniel to me), and i can't take seriously in "brazillian portuguese" his voice is also the kon voice(from bleach)(which by the way i love this Voice), when people like this thing as a fandom thing they neglect too much the robot, i find the relationship between this hiro and this baymax way more interesting, if i would choose a pairing with this hiro, i would like him with this baymax(would be cute/cool, a boy with his big badass robot(this baymax is more badass)), okay that it wouldn't be a problematic incest that people want, but would be- a- robotic- love, ha-ha, but i just suggesting, i don't think about that when i see the movie,……, it makes me a little melancholic watch this movie, i remember when i watched on this exactly dvd in 2014 and me crying as hell because of the robot death, i used to listen to the main song(nowadays i find the song a little bit slow for my taste),…….., i kinda like this movie, its not that movie that i can watch hundreds of times, but i like it
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luv4fushi · 4 months
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thinking about arguing with husband!gojo. it’s funny because he’s the strongest sorcerer alive with several other, more wicked enemies harboring one sided hate for him, yet he’s anxiously glancing at you every now and then as you hiss at him. you’re the only one who can make him doubt his strength.
he usually finds you cute when you’re mad, but right now he doesn’t really appreciate the way your face is scrunched up and how you’re yelling at him.
it’s not his fault. he thinks you’re being so dramatic.
“you’re laughing at me,” you deadpan. “why do you never take things i say seriously?”
“because i honestly don’t think it’s that serious,” he fires back, and your eyes narrow. oh, fuck.
arguing with your husband is never fun. it’s probably because the both of you are stubborn; you’re stubborn because you’re simply right all the time, and satoru’s stubborn because if you’re not right, then he is.
you pause for just a second, but it’s enough to sprout a moment of extreme tension between you and your husband.
“right,” you scoff after you inhale sharply. “you just don’t care, do you?”
“don’t fucking say that,” satoru snaps. “i do care. that’s why i’m here.”
it takes everything in you to not shoot him another death glare. “so i should be thankful for the bare minimum?”
satoru blinks. he would’ve flinched, but he refuses to let you have that sort of power over him. “i’m not giving the bare minimum.”
“yes you are,” you argue back, voice straining as you swallow a lump of anger down the back of your throat.
the both of you are still. it feels like an eternity passes before the anger in you wanes. you’re exhausted and this fight with satoru is surely going to make the both of you upset enough to not talk for the rest of the night.
“i’m sorry that i’m not good enough,” satoru says, breaking the silence. you’ve never heard his voice so small, so pathetic—he’s never, ever shown you this side of him, and you’re starting to feel that dreading pit of guilt tug at your gut.
“that’s not what i meant,” you force yourself to say, sighing.
“but that’s what you’re thinking,” satoru mumbles. he avoids looking at your face.
“no it’s not,” you deny. “it’s never been about that.”
satoru gives you a wary look. “then what is it about? because i’ve done everything i can.”
“everything? really?” you sneer. “do you even love me anymore?”
silence. satoru swears he can hear your heart break.
“baby, don’t say that,” he groans, “c’mon, we were ten points away from three stars. that’s a single plate—one you didn’t turn in because you somehow forgot how to dash!”
you whip around to glower at satoru, your face twisting into an offended expression. “you set the kitchen on fire! how could i do something like serving a dish if the kitchen is on fire?!”
“baby, it’s the same button that it always has been this entire game!” he whines. “and you set the kitchen on fire! you keep forgetting to take the rice off the stove!”
you sigh exasperatedly, crossing your arms to act like some sort of shield between you and satoru’s (truthful) words.
“but you don’t chop up your stupid fish!” you protest. “so i end up doing five things at once!”
satoru opens his mouth to speak, but he knows you’re in the right. he opts to click his tongue instead.
“and every time i asked for help,” you add, frowning, “you just kept bringing out more of the dumbass cucumbers! we don’t have counter space for that!!!”
“that’s for prep to maximize our sushi making! throw it on the floor!”
“are you kidding me? that’s so unsanitary!”
“it’s a game!”
you’re both panting by the end of the fight. you’re biting down on your inner cheek and satoru is scratching the nape of his neck awkwardly.
“… sorry,” he mumbles. “i won’t bring out cucumbers anymore. and i’m also sorry for being mean about you not knowing how to dash.”
“good,” you huff. “‘cause i was seriously not gonna play anymore.”
“and…?” he prods, nudging you in your ribs. you can tell what he wants just by the sound of his voice.
“and i’m sorry for getting mad at you even though you’re doing you’re best at carrying me in this game…” you murmur, rolling your eyes.
satoru’s face brightens and he places a wet kiss on your cheek. “you’re forgiven.”
“love you, dummy.”
“love you too, baby.”
“no more cucumbers unless the ticket calls for them,” you remind him pointedly.
“yes, chef!”
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moonlesslights · 11 months
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Miguel O’hara in Love
Headcanons.
━━━━━━ ✿ 🕷️ ❀ ━━━━━
A/N: I was really looking forward to write this, because I just can’t get this whole idea out of my head.
Warnings: Basically none, a little bit of angst maybe?, some smut references and depictions. Miguel being Miguel. Kinda obsessive (?)
This text is based in that frase of Joe Goldberg: “There’s not a line, in the world, that I wouldn’t cross for you”. So be prepared.
Enjoy, my loves. Every comment or request is welcomed! 🤍
✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
Miguel was curious of you from the very moment he met you. Such a unique presence among all the others.
You had been bitten just a month ago. And it was hard for you. He saw you struggle, falling over and over again, training till exhaustion, fighting to be on the level of the others.
And the worst part of it all, was the guilt coming to attack him with every side eye Jessica gave to him. “If you weren’t going to help her, you should have let her alone.” The woman had whispered while both of them looked at you fighting to climb another building. Miguel knew she was right. He was the one who insisted in bringing you immediately after they found you (only a couple of days after the bite), even when Jessica insisted to give you time for you to figure it out alone. Miguel wasn’t having it, and now… “She’s been at it for the whole morning.” The woman pursed her lips, shaking her head.
What Jessica didn’t quite know was that Miguel hadn’t left you alone all this time… He wasn’t good at talking, that was true. He wasn’t good at showing his support with words, but that didn’t mean he didn’t care.
You let out a pained groan when you finally plop on the concrete of the building’s rooftop. Every single muscle of your body aches and you can fell your heart pounding harshly against your ribcage, making it feel like every breath that makes it to your lungs it’s just a mere miracle.
The weight of the presence of someone standing beside you forces you to blink out of your thoughts. Tiredly, you look up, finding Miguel's mask glaring back at you with a deep frown you can make out of the way his eyes curve.
He holds a white little package on his right and he hands it to you before finally sitting down without making a single sound. It had all started like a little game between the two of you: You pretend you don’t see his figure hovering above a building while you train, or his silhouette watching you getting back to The Society place safely. You also pretend you don’t know it’s him who leaves bandages and painkillers over your bed every day with a little chocolate next to it. And he pretends he doesn’t know that you know.
You cross your legs and smile when you open the small box on your hands, smelling the sweet scent of warm and fresh food. You also take notice of how he changed one of the things he brought you last time, you didn’t have the heart to tell him, but you were sure now he definitely noticed you didn’t like it.
“Eat.” He orders and you are too tired to remark his tone of voice with a roll of your eyes. So you nod, bringing a big spoonful of pasta and vegetables to your mouth, thanking him with a big smile. Smile he doesn’t return. He never does anyway. But now it’s not like always. He’s pissed. “When was the last time you ate?”
You look straight ahead, avoiding his gaze. You swallow, slowly, feeling his eyes burning on the side of your head.
“Mhm… Not long ago, no.” You answer, mumbling while you get more food into your mouth. Miguel raises an eyebrow.
“Training this much without any nutriments won’t do anything good for you…”
“Training this much won’t do anything anyway.” You sigh, keeping then the fork between your lips. Miguel wishes to say something but he can’t find the words, he can’t order his thoughts inside his head to place them on his tongue and tell you just how much you have improved since the first day, so he gladly receives your bright eyes turning to him when you seem to remember: “But I finally climbed this building, see? Without using any web, only my spider fingers.”
The man nods at you waving playfully at him. The determination in your eyes even when your whole body wanted to give up, even when you know you’re still not close to go on a mission by yourself (or with anyone else), even when you probably couldn’t even sleep fine because of the sore bruises, the determination in your eyes didn’t flatter.
That made him feel something deep is his hands, a tingle he couldn’t control. And he hated it.
“Tomorrow at seven.” He sentences, standing on his feet again.
You frown, raising big eyes at him. The brightness in them when the weight of his words hit you destabilizes him.
“For real?”
“Yes.” He looks away. “If I don’t train you you’re not getting anywhere.”
His comment goes unnoticed for the excitement running all along your body.
“Ok.” You nod, trying to look professional but failing miserably.
He grunts in response, soon jumping off of the building and losing among all of the city chaos. In some minutes he would be back at the Society lobby. You… An hour. Give or take.
Training with Miguel was nothing but… Hell.
No, it actually wasn’t. You expected you could say that to make people thing you were having it hard, but he insisted on starting with the basics… basics that you already felt like being good at.
Still, climbing had become easier within the first week of training with him. The tips and advices he insisted you to follow helped you thinking of it more like a game than a must do.
Swinging was still a tricky one. You used to lose your balance when the demanded velocity was too much. Panic rushed over you, feeling like you would crash against a window or a fucking person, or another spider doing their own training.
“Trust your senses.” Miguel said to you every time you fell, and every time you death glared at him for that. He didn’t have one of the most important senses for spider people and he still managed to be better than anyone you could have known. You had them all, and they all seemed to be a mess when you tried to use them.
Soon enough, Miguel learned about a way to motivate you: Rewards. Most of the time was food, some others, the promise of letting you rest for more that five minutes was enough. For a week now, it had been a little bit different.
History. You loved it. And you changed any delicious and tasty food for hours listening to Miguel explaining everything about the multiverse and the tangled webs between all of you. He had told you about his first travels to other Earths at least three times, but you couldn’t seem to get tired.
You might not tell him how much his voice soothes you after a long day out, but it wasn’t necessary, he could see it. On the other hand, he definitely would never tell you how he glanced at you, completely asleep after another history session, memorizing every breath, every mole and freckle, counting every single one of your eyelashes like the stars on the sky above you.
No. You would never find out about that.
Today was supposed to be just like any other day: quiet, calm and premeditated. Nothing out of the routine you and Miguel had adopted for the past four weeks.
But with you, things were never that easy. Boredom was a dangerous thing for you, Miguel had learned it by now. The hard way. If something became not enough exciting for your restless self, you would look for that spark of adrenaline at any cost. It was part of your determination. Heart of a lion. He knew that. But it didn’t change the fact he would have to save you from breaking a few bones every once in a while.
“I’m sorry” You would say after he dropped you on the safe floor again. He would turn to look at you, fire running up his veins. Every time he wanted to yell at you, to snap and tell you it was the last time you do something like that. And every time he would sigh, pressing both finger on the bridge of his nose, finally grunting in a low voice:
“Desobedeciste deliberadamente.” A month was enough for you to know exactly what those words meant.
“I know.”
“You could have hurt yourself.”
“I know…” Then the bright eyes. Always the bright eyes. “But I have to try, I can’t depend on you forever. Getting hurt it’s just part of the way.”
He hated you were right. He lost count of how many broken ribs he got on his first years, of how many scars he still hides under his suit. Eventually, you would have to learn to stand up even if you’re bleeding. Even if you’re dying.
He is not mad at you for disobeying, that’s bullshit. He admired that of you, actually. You don’t act by fear, you do not fear him. You follow your heart even when you know you could get in trouble for it. No, he’s mad because every time he catches you before you hit the ground, all he can think about is that there’s going to be a moment where he won’t be there to do it. And the sound of your body crashing against the concrete, of your pain, would follow him till the darkest moments of the night, where he curses the day you’ll scream his name and he will be too far away to hear it.
“I want to change my reward for today.” You smile at him, both of your hands behind your back, making him suspicious of your teasing voice.
“You’re not going anywhere with Hobie.” He responds in a neutral voice, starting to walk in front of you.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head before getting in front of him and starting to walk backwards so you could keep facing him.
“It’s not that.” You insist. He doesn’t answer and you know that’s his way of telling you to go on. You sigh. “I want to see you without your mask.”
That makes him stop dead on his tracks. He tilts his head, questioning you with curious eyes. That’s all you wanted? No, you wanted that? Why?
Were you really that bored?
“I feel like everyone here has seen you at least one time, except for me. And it’s not fair.” You got a point on that. He spends most of his time training you, you share almost every meal together, he’s the last person you usually talk everyday because you’re too tired to do anything other than going to your room and sleep. You have spent entire days with him, you have cried and made a mess of yourself in front of his presence, and you didn’t even know his face.
You can deny the sting of irritation you get every time Hobie or Gwen, or any other come talking about what they said during the meeting before a mission, meetings where, you had learnt, Miguel used to take off his mask. Peter told you it wasn’t that big of a deal. You wanted to punch him.
“If that’s what you want.” Miguel crosses his arms, tilting his head at you. “Now go tra-…”
You were gone before he could even finish his sentence. He sees your figure going around the building he chose for this particular session. Your swinging had gotten better over the last weeks and the confidence you had in yourself had also been improving, showing your true strength for him to see.
Jessica insisted on you being ready to train at the top levels with the others inside The Society training center, or at least to try. But Miguel profusely refused. He had designed many of the levels to train there, he knew the damage they could cause to someone not prepared to face them.
He blame it on his sense of responsibility over you the fact that he denied any attempt to put you on an unnecessary risk, but deep down, he knew that from the moment he stepped in front of you while you cried for that death he knew all too well now, and then observed how you wiped your tears and showed him your fists, ready to fight him despite everything… He was fucked.
You were the little thing he decided to protect even if it costed his life. The little thing that trusted his claws to hold at her, that puts its life on the line without a second thought. It is not his fault to have never experienced anything like this, to don’t know what to do, to act like a fool, to refuse to lose it… How they cannot understand?
“Done.” You jump in front of him, getting him out of his thoughts.
He looks up, seeing all of the targets on the building covered by a good layer of web. Your precision could be better, but you’re getting at it.
He sighs. He turns to face you completely before ordering his nanotechnology to uncover his face. Dark wavy hair falls onto his temples, brown skin glimmers under the heavy sun above you, full lips press against each other and two cold brown eyes glare down at you.
When you don’t say anything, he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Is this what you wanted? Are you happy now?”
You nod without waiting for another question.
“I just wanted to see your eyes.” You answer confident, smiling softly at him.
It is enough to say he never wore his mask on around you ever again.
Miguel O'Hara isn’t good in what emotion management respects.
He knows it, but he doesn’t have the time or care to try to do something about it.
It wasn’t that big of a deal…
Yeah, it wasn’t that big of a deal until one specially busy morning where he couldn’t make it to your first training, he went on looking for you… And he couldn’t find you.
He went to your room, your favorite places; he went looking all around the city, praying to find you just jumping above some buildings. But you were nowhere to be found. And it wasn’t until one Peter took mercy on him that pointed the worst place to be pointed: The training center.
With his heart going a thousand miles per hour, he started to look for you inside the complex. And when he caught a glimpse of Jessica looking up with a proud smile, he knew exactly where you were.
“She’s doing even better than I could’ve imagined. You’re a great mentor, Miguel.”
“Why is she here?” He answered immediately. Jess raised an eyebrow at him, confused by the uneasiness on his voice.
“Does that really matter? Look at her, Miguel!” She pointed at you with her extended hand. “Aren’t you proud of her?”
Of course he was. But what he couldn’t stand was someone else messing and taking choices over the one and only thing he has. So instead of answering her question, he sentenced: “Don’t ever get close to her again.”
“Miguel…”
“You can mess around with any other, but there is a fucking line, Jess. You chose yours, and I respect them. Don’t mess with mine.”
When he finally appeared in front of you, you smiled brightly at him. He looked like any other day, completely unfazed and with a calmed expression you were so used to see by now.
“Time to call it a day, don’t you think?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You were sweating, you arms were trembling and you could barely control your breath by now, and still… You shook your head.
“I want to try this level one last time.” He was ready to talk you out of it but your pleading eyes made him look down at Jess, who, with a single movement, made him understand what she was talking about.
“Fine, but I’ll be with you every step of the way, got it?” His frustration made you giggle when you nodded.
You didn’t make it till the end of the level, but you tried, and that was all that mattered to you. To Miguel, having been able to take you to the wall before you crashed against a crystal under you was the main thing that mattered.
It had been a whole experience, but it remained like that. Enough time at least for him to push his way of react behind him. Until something made it snap again.
His eyes fly to all of the cameras in front of him, fixing his pupils in whatever screen he could catch a glimpse of your suit.
The threat they were expecting for your first mission ended up being a lot more aggressive and capable than hoped. You and your partner had already received a few good hits by the time Miguel reached for the Call button.
“How are you?” Is the first thing you hear when you press ‘answer’.
“Never better.” You reply, smiling at the interface of your pretty boss clenching his jaw.
“Need help?”
You immediately shake your head. “Not at all, we’re managing just fine.” Your figure distorts while you swing around. Heavy steps following you up close. “I gotta go, Miguel. See you back at home.”
“No, wai-…” He widens his eyes, trying to reach you before you end the call. His fists tighten and his eyes close, fighting to keep himself calm.
But our man can’t catch a break, because as soon as his breath starts to get back to its normal speed, a camera showing on one of the screens burst out with a big clatter, forcing his eyes open only to see his worst fear take form in front of him.
You were struggling against the anomaly, kicking your feet in the air and trying desperately to get his hands off your neck. Your partner was nowhere to be seen. You appear to lose you patience when you stop fighting and instead shoot webs to the creature’s eyes. The anomaly maddens, and throws you against the next building on the street.
Miguel's eyes follow your body across two cameras, watching in horror the blood dripping from your mouth when you cough after the blow, struggling to get on your feet again.
His hands move quicker than he can process, bringing all the information about the Earth you were on for him to see.
“Miguel.” Jessica calls from behind.
“Where the hell did you send her?” He whispers, reading the screen displayed. “I told you she wasn’t ready to go.”
“Miguel, look.” She insists, this time with a more demanding voice.
But the man can’t think of anything else more than you bleeding. Alone and injured.
“You said it was an easy one.” He growls in a low and dangerous voice.
“I’m…”
“I told you she wasn’t ready!” He snaps, looking back at her. His fangs pinch on his lower lip, so hard he can feel a drop of scarlet liquid running down his chin.
And it’s not until Jess takes a step back and Lyla calls his name that he realizes the way his claws had ripped the metal in front of him.
And then… A call.
He blinks out of his trance, looking up at the screen with your name on it. He hits ‘answer’ and your dirty suit and scratched face make an appearance.
His red eyes relax at the sight, returning to those soft brown irises and dark pleased pupils reserved only for you. He hides his fangs and his claws are no longer nowhere to see. Just you. It was just you again. And you were okay.
“Miguel, look!” You smile at him, pointing the camera on your watch for him to see your partner finishing to tie up the anomaly. “We got it!”
“Yeah, yeah, I see.” He can’t help but let out a small glimpse of a smile over his lips, nodding at your excitement.
“Oh, you’re smiling. Wait for me to come back, I wanna see it in person.” And just like that, his smile is gone.
“Don’t take any longer. Both of you, come back as soon as possible.”
And with that, the call is ended once again, leaving him in a room with heavy air and thick silence. He jumps off of the platform, still glaring at Jessica in silence.
“You know that wasn’t right.” She whispers. “The way you’re acting it isn’t right, Miguel.”
He shakes his head, slowing his movements until he remains still just a few feet away from the entrance.
“You don’t know what it’s like.” He murmurs.
“Oh, now I don’t know?!” She opens her mouth with indignation, but Miguel doesn’t alter.
“It’s not like that and you know it.” He hisses. “I have lost everything in this world. I am utterly alone. And even between us, there a strings that doesn’t tangle. You have a husband and a soon to come baby, a family that awaits for you at home, but what do I have, Jess?”
The woman, for the first time, remains silent.
“I have her. I only have her.” He says. “Not a single thing in this world belongs to me but her. Everything else have been taken away from me, everything I once had has disappeared: my job, my life, my normal life. If she’s ripped from my hands, I have nothing left. And I cannot keep fighting for a life I don’t want to live. This is not only for her, Jess. If I lose her, I will tear the universe apart with my own hands.”
A single shiver ran down her spine, watching Miguel exiting the complex to find you arriving almost at the same moment.
She watched how his threat takes meaning when you wrap your arms around him and his eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh.
She knows that if they ever were to lose that light, the whole multiverse would dim with them.
Miguel wanted to own you.
He wasn’t good at hiding it.
His hands would come to your hips, grabbing your tights or caressing your waist under your clothes.
Your scent would drive him into his animalistic side at every given moment. Until the point he would have to step meters away from you during the meetings in order to keep himself from the smell of your hair and your soft skin.
But when he didn’t keep himself from you, he would come from behind you, embracing you with his whole body. His face would bury in the curve of your neck, sending shivers with his tongue coming out, tracing a single line till reaching your ear, where he would whisper what he wants, where he would ask you to let him touch you.
When you say yes, he would drop his head and sink your fingers on your tender skin, pressing his hips against your body when you throw your head back, allowing him to do as he wished so with you, to mark you as his as many times as he wanted.
“Miguel…” You sigh this time, feeling his hands clinging at your suit, desperate to touch your skin instead.
He had just returned from a mission that had kept him away from you three days. You had imagined he would’ve returned tired and ready to sleep for fifteen hours, but instead he took you straight into his bedroom and pushed you against the wall, where he now holds you still with both of his arms.
“Take it off.” He whispers, tugging again at your suit. He was being nice this time, and you thank him internally for that. You don’t have the strength to ask Lyla for another suit.
You complain with a happy humming, letting your body fully exposed before him except for your panties still covering your ass and pussy.
The man switches off his own suit, letting you see up close the tent under his boxers. His fingers grasp at your thighs, forcing your legs open for him. Two of his digits run along your folds over your panties for around ten seconds before he decides to tore away your undergarment and place his hand back at your sex.
You would have complained about his behavior but his fingers pressing down on your clit rip only a moan out of your throat. He plays with your sensitive bundle until you’re wet and seconds away from an orgasm he pretends to steal away when he stops his movements.
“No, please…” You cry out, your legs threatening to give up.
“Shhh, patience, mi amor, I’m not done yet.” With one hand he pushes you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his neck for support before he starts eating you out like a starved man.
You tighten your tights around his head, almost screaming at your over sensitive pussy being stimulated even more, with his tongue pushing in and out for a while until he takes it to your clit again, sucking in, ripping another hard cry out of you. You are so close. And when he finally joins in two of his fingers to curve inside of you, it’s your end.
You scream his name, clenching around his digits, making him growl enough to feel the vibration running down your skin. He guides you through all of it until you finally seem to catch your breath again.
But then, he takes out his fingers and drops his boxes to the floor. His dick throbbed painfully, making him hiss when he stroke it a few times before pressing against you, chest to chest, and bottoming out all the way with a single thrust.
“Fuck, Miguel!” You throw your head back as he does the contrary, sinking his fangs into your skin, trying not to lose control.
“May I move?” He asks, breathing heavily on your skin.
You nod.
“Yes, yes, please move.” He groan in pleasure at your words, starting to move your hips in and down to match the rhythm of his.
You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning sweetly against his ear while he pick up the pace. Soon enough, only the sound of skin slapping on skin could be heard around you, with nothing but your moans and gasps indicating him where he had to thrust, and his deep growls showing you how close he was.
“Cum for me.” He says, pushing your back back to the wall with his hand around your neck, squeezing you under his fingers. “I wanna see you cum.” He demands, making of his pace nothing but a mess of thrusts.
He was so close, he just needed…
“Miguel!” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, letting out desperate whimpers when your legs tremble around him and your walls clench around his cock, sending him so high he has to bite you again to avoid a throaty moan escape from him.
You could barely begin to feel your toes again when you feel him tightening his grip around you before walking out to the bed.
He was ready for the next round.
Thank you so much for coming all this way!
PD: I know Miguel fangs have paralyzing venom but let’s just pretend he can choose when to use it and when don’t.
This might not be good but I had the idea of this thread of story and I just wanted to write it.
I hope you have at least enjoyed some of it.
Love y’all. Sending a lot of love. See ya. <3
PD2: I’m trying to work now on a Sub!Miguel thing. It may be still a couple of days from it, but I want to be good. And I haven’t decided if it would be just porn or porn with plot. So let me know!
PD3: I’ll be doing cleaning and correction between today and tomorrow.
13K notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 5 months
Text
Steal Your Girl - LN4
Carlos is awful to his girl and Lando wants her. He gets what he wants.
THIS IS NOT A REFLECTION OF CARLOS SAINZ AS A REAL PERSON, ALL THESE ACTIONS ARE VRRY OUT OF HIS CHARACTER
18+ ONLY
Warnings: emotionally abusive relationship! smut! eating out, bj, finishing inside, fucking against the wall
Ex! Carlos sainz x reader, lando norris x reader
5.5k
Yes, I changed this up a lot from the original request, but Bianca and I have spoken a lot about this fic and it was decided that having it a friendship rivalry would make this so sweet so I changed Lewis to Carlos
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Carlos Sainz walked into the British grand prix, his hand holding his girlfriends. It was warm for England, and he could swear it was getting warmer and warmer every year. Not hot, not compared to what he was used to.
Although he was now a driver for Scuderia Ferrari, he still had friends in other teams. Like Lando and Max. The year before he wouldn’t have minded being on a team with either of them again, driving alongside Lando in Ferrari or Max in a Red Bull.
But now Carlos was in a truly competitive car and, for the first time since his career began, he was a contender for the championship title.
As he looked at his girlfriend, she gave him a smile. Just a small one, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Carlos kept a tight hold of her as he pulled her through the paddock, heading to where he could see the orange hat on the smaller man’s head.
Lando was always his first stop if he could help it. Carlos loved him like a brother, the two of them becoming the best of friends for the short time they were teammates. Everybody in Formula One had their best friend. He had Lando, Logan had Oscar, Charles had… well Charles was a bit of a slut. He had Max and Pierre at his beck and call.
He let go of his girlfriends hand, reaching forward to smack Lando’s butt. Lando jumped out of his skin, spun quickly on his heel and came face to face with his best friend. His look of shock and horror turned into a grin and he wrapped his arms around Carlos, smacking his back as he did so. He looked to Y/N offering her a tight lipped smile.
Being Carlos’s best friend meant Lando got more of an insight into Y/N and Carlos’s relationship. All of the speculations he saw the F1 and WAG news sights posting, he could reveal how true they were. He wouldn’t; that wasn’t his place. If Y/N or Carlos wanted to come out about their relationship, they could. But he wasn’t going to do it for them.
But he felt sorry for her. He saw the way he treated her, how short and angry he was towards her after the race hadn’t gone his way. Lando had stopped himself from running over and getting between them several times. But, once again, it wasn’t his place. As much as he wanted to run over and grab Carlos, keeping Y/N behind him, he knew he couldn’t.
But he wanted to. Don’t get him wrong, he wanted to.
All Lando could do was watch, try and ask if she was okay without actually saying anything. He was observant when it came to her, noticed the way her smile wasn’t too wide.
I guess I should give some context. The year was 2024, and Lando and Carlos were both in the championship fight. It was intense – one week Carlos would be leading in the points and the next Lando would be. As much as it frustrated the both of them, it never affected their friendship.
The summer break was approaching and the two of them were way too close in the points for comfort. It wasn’t like the previous year where Max was practically a shoo in. You never would have guessed by the way they walked through the paddock together, Oscar joining them on Lando’s left.
He was another contender for the championship. It was only his second year in the championship, and he was fighting with the likes of Max, Lando and Carlos. It was insanely impressive, but not unexpected.
“You two got any plans for over summer?” He asked as they stopped outside of the McLaren hospitality suite.
As much as Carlos was happy to finally be in the competitive car, he still missed McLaren. As much as he loved driving alongside Charles Leclerc, he missed driving alongside Lando. But he loved fighting him on track.
Carlos wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her in close. “We are staying in Italy,” he said and kissed the side of her head. The smile Y/N shot in Oscar’s direction wasn’t a happy one. Her shoulders were hunched as she tried to make herself look small, her smile barely there and her eyes not meeting his. Whatever they were doing over the summer, she clearly wasn’t happy about it.
They went their separate ways, Y/N and Carlos heading off to Ferrari while Lando and Oscar headed into the hospitality suite. “Is she okay?” Oscar asked as he walked slightly behind Lando.
It was no secret how Lando felt about Y/N. It was no secret that he liked her. There had been one time where Oscar had physically held Lando back after Carlos had crashed earlier in the day and seemed to be verbally taking it out on Y/N.
Lando couldn’t answer. Because he really didn’t know. He didn’t know if she was okay, and he had a feeling he wouldn’t find out. He steadied himself and led Oscar into the hospitality suite.
***
It wasn’t a good race for Carlos. Y/N watched from the garage as he made contact with the Mercedes of George Russell and spun out into the gravel. “Ah fuck!” He shouted. “Fucking fuck!” He hit the steering wheel and pulled it out of the car, handing it to the steward that came running over. He climbed out of the car, keeping his helmet on as he made his way back to the pitlane.
As soon as Carlos sorted himself out, Y/N threw her arms around him. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered and kissed his cheek. Carlos didn’t respond. He just stared at the track at nineteen cars came speeding past the pitlane.
After the race and the ceremonies, when they were heading back to the plane, Carlos drove them. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he sped around cars, at a pace that was, quite frankly, terrifying to his passengers. “Carlos, baby,” she tried to say as she held onto the bottom of her seat.
But Carlos didn’t let her say anything. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled.
Y/N fell silent. If they weren’t driving down the motorway she would have demanded he let her out of the car, but she couldn’t. She just sat there, the familiar feeling of anxiety bubbling up inside of her chest.
If this was how she was going to be feeling for the rest of the championship, Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to be a part of this world. She loved Carlos and she loved travelling around with him, but it made her feel fucking terrible. He made her feel fucking terrible.
These feelings didn’t stop through the Hungarian Grand Prix or through Spa. They were miserable weekends for the girl sat in the Ferrari garage. In both races Carlos did well, which you may think  would mean he was happy. You’d think he’d be in a good mood and happily showing his girlfriend how much he loved her.
But for both races, a younger, less experienced driver beat him. In cars that seemed to be equal in terms of how competitive they were, Lando Norris beat him.
Although Carlos got a good amount of points from it, Lando had beat him, putting a bit more distance between them in the championship.
It made him vile to be around. The points, the championship, consumed his very being. Not in the way it did for most Formula One drivers, where their goal for every training session, every practice session, every qualifying and every race was to be the best. Carlos was a man obsessed it muttered about it, going back through past races to see if there were any way to take points away from his competitors.
He became snappy and rude to his girlfriend. She couldn’t even say his name without him sending a glare in her direction. Y/N was walking on eggshells around him.
It wasn’t as though she could avoid him. Carlos wanted her at every race weekend; her only respite was the few days she got to spend at her apartment.
During summer break, Carlos gave her a break from himself. He wasn’t crazy obsessive over points as they went to Italy. But that feeling of Anxiety was still in Y/N’s chest. Even as he took her out on the boat, she was still anxious.
When Carlos kissed her, she kept her eyes shut, unable to look at him. His touch was warm, but it still made her shiver. If he knew something was wrong, he didn’t say anything to her.
It was a sign, surely. A sign that she should have left him. But, no matter how anxious she felt around him, there was still a part of her that loved him. She always would love him, at least in some capacity.
Y/N pushed the feelings deep down. She loved him, she really, truly loved him, and she could get through this. They could get through this. As soon as the championship was over, things would go back to normal, she was sure of it.
As if to assure herself, Y/N walked over to Carlos, who had sat himself on the sun lounger in front of the pool, and wrapped her arms around him. She kissed the side of his head and closed her eyes as she pressed her forehead against his shoulder.
After their amazing summer break, Y/N thought maybe things would change between them. Maybe she’d get the old Carlos back, her Carlos back.
Spoiler alert, it didn’t work. Even though Carlos finished ahead of Lando at the Dutch Grand Prix, they still hadn’t quite come level with the points. Lando was still ahead of him and it was all Carlos could think about, all he could talk about.
The drivers went out that night. Well, a few of them did. Max took Lando, Charles, Carlos, George and Daniel out for the night. Everybody was invited to the club, but these were the few that went.
Of course, Y/N went with Carlos. Even with everything going on, she still didn’t want to head home alone. So, she dressed her best and walked into the club on Carlos’s arm.
Lando walked in behind them. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, and that little voice in the back of his head that usually told him that she was his best friend’s girl and he should stay away was suddenly quieter. Maybe it was because of the few drinks he had in his system already, but Lando wasn’t scared about Carlos seeing his lingering eyes.
But Carlos didn’t seem to notice. Maybe he thought Lando was being a good friend and keeping an eye on Y/N, who was definitely stunning enough to turn heads.
For the entire night, Lando stayed close to Y/N. He was behind them when she and Carlos danced together, followed her to the bar and got another round of drinks. And, when Carlos disappeared and Y/N found herself sitting alone in one of the booths in the club, Lando came to sit beside her.
“Hey,” he shouted over the music.
Y/N stared at him, clearly not happy. But she gave him a weak smile, leaning against the table in front of them. “You okay?” He shouted, furrowing his brows. Y/N shouted something back, but Lando couldn’t hear a word of it.
Standing up, he walked over and slid into the seat beside her. “You okay?” He asked and placed his arm over her shoulders. The drink must have been making him brave.
Y/N shook her head. “I want to go outside!” She shouted into his ear.
Standing up, Lando helped her. He shot Carlos a quick text and led Y/N to the smoking shelter outside of the club. Neither of them smoked, but they needed the fresh air, desperately. The smoking area was busy, but not as loud as the club; they could speak without much issue.
"What's up?" Asked Lando as he leaned against the wall.
Y/N looked at him and let out a huff. She folded her arms over her chest and looked up at the stars in the night sky. "I'm hoping you're drunk enough to forget this, but Carlos treats me like shit," she said and turned her attention towards him.
"I know."
Lando hadn't meant to say it, but it was too late to backpeddle now.
"And I fucking hate it," he finished.
Silence hung in the air between them. Y/N didn't quite know what to say. She was speaking to Carlos's best friend and she didn't want to slate him.
And Lando, well he was waiting for Y/N to say something. He didn't want to push and then have to deal with Carlos why she was crying. That wouldn't end well for anyone.
I think you should leave your boyfriend.
But he couldn't say that. It was a decision Y/N had to come to all on her own.
And she did. Just not for a while. Not until the end of the 2024 championship.
It was down to the wire, the deciding race for the drivers championship being the very last race of the season.
As Y/N sat in the ferrari garage she bit her nails, nerves bubbling up inside of her. It wasn't nerves over her boyfriend winning or losing. Well, it was, but more because of what he might've done to her.
Lando was the championship winner. Lando crossed the finish line less than a second ahead of Carlos.
As they climbed out of the cars and congratulated each other, it was clear Carlos was pissed. As he stood on the podium and listened to the British national anthem, he was angry, that much was clear.
Y/N could have left him then and there, but she didn't want to. There was a small part of her that loved Carlos and that didn't want to leave him.
But, after they had headed home that night, after skipping out on Landos offer of celebrating, Carlos was fucking horrible to her.
Never physical, just angry and verbally abusive. He roared at her, spitting in her face as he did so.
Y/N got up and left him then and there. She walked out of the door, not looking back.
There was a lot of speculation online on the couples break up. The news of it only came when Carlos was seen with a new woman, having moved on pretty quickly. Y/N just hoped this girl could handle him better than she could.
When the 2025 season started up, she missed it. But she couldn't even bring herself to watch it on the television.
She missed it, and she was missed.
By Lando, mostly. Although she'd made some friends from her time on the grid, it was Lando who missed her the most. He'd been the one to call her up and make sure she was okay when he found out about the breakup.
Ever since the 2025 season started, Lando had been desperately trying to get her to come to a grand prix. But Y/N shot him down every time. How could she go to a grand prix and face Carlos?
She couldn’t. As much as she would have loved to go to at least one Grand Prix, she couldn’t face Carlos. So, Lando had to find other ways to see her. He was the one who came to her apartment and spent time with her while she was having an emotional breakdown over Carlos. He was the one who brought her snacks and comfort her, watching movies and attempting to make her dinner.
In this time she and Lando became incredibly close. It didn’t feel right, the way she was relying on him for emotional comfort when he was her ex boyfriends best friend. At first, Y/N was scared Lando would just be a rebound, that she was feeling the way she did because she was upset about the breakup.
But, as time went on, she realised it was a lot more than that. She genuinely loved Lando’s company and she wanted to spend time around him. That didn’t mean she’d be going to a grand prix, though.
So, Y/N threw herself into her work. When she’d bought her apartment, she’d been with Carlos, and it was filled with memories of the two of them. She worked oh so hard to make it her own, erasing every memory of him from its walls.
On the few days before the British Grand Prix, Lando was in the UK. He was in Surrey, at McLaren before heading off to London. What was in London? Just the girl he was in love with.
Okay, maybe in love was a strong word. But everybody knew how he felt about her, knew how much he wanted her.
So, he hopped on a train to London (because there was no way he was driving through the city) and made his way to her apartment.
This was the first Grand Prix that he hadn’t been bothering her to attend. It was strange and, in and odd way, it made Y/N want to go all the more. It was too late now, though. She’d never get tickets she could actually afford.
There was a knock at her apartment door. Y/N stood up from her computer and strode over. She pulled open the door, coming face to face with none other than Lando Norris. “Lando,” she somewhat gasped, incredibly surprised to see him. “Aren’t you meant to be at Silverstone?”
“That’s exactly why I’m here,” he said and walked into the apartment. He took a seat at her kitchen table as she got him something to drink. “I want you to come to the grand prix with me,” he said. He’d said it so many times already this year. Maybe the answer would be different now he was here in person.
Y/N let out a huff and Lando knew what was coming. She was going to shoot him down, to say no and send him on his way. But she didn’t. She sat back and stared at him, tapping her nails against the glass of water in front of her. “Okay,” she said and sat up a little straighter. “But I have conditions.”
Lando gestured for her to go on.
“I’ll go if you can guarantee I won’t see Carlos.”
It was an impossible request, but Lando just grinned. He held out his hand for her to shake. “Deal.”
***
It was Lando’s second win at Silverstone, and the home crowd was going wild. Y/N was with the McLaren team. When Lando pulled into Parc fermé, Y/N was waiting at the barrier. She watched as he jumped towards his team, all of them patting him on the back.
And then she caught his eye. Lando pulled off his helmet, placing it on the ground and strode over to her. “Congratulations!” Y/N shouted over the noise with a wide grin.
But Lando didn’t respond. He pulled her close, just the barrier between them, and kissed her.
It was quick, Lando didn’t have long until he was pulled away to do post-race interviews. And then he was on the podium as Y/N waited back in the garage. What had just happened? Lando had won his home Grand Prix but, more importantly, he kissed her. Lando Norris had kissed her.
And she hadn’t minded. Did that make her a bad person? That she didn’t mind kissing her ex boyfriends best friend? Well, more than didn’t mind. She liked it, and she wanted to do it again.
Carlos hadn’t quite believed what he was seeing when he climbed out of his Ferrari, having just missed out on third place. He was in a foul mood anyway from his result, and this certainly didn’t make things better.
There was a feeling of betrayal that settled in his chest. He was ready to tear apart the Ferrari garage and not care about the consequences.
If she couldn’t be with him because of his racing career, what the fuck was she doing here? With him of all people?
He stormed past everybody, his body language aggressive.
But Lando and Y/N didn’t notice. Why should they? Lando was wrapped up in his win and she was wrapped up in him. In Lando.
After the race Lando drove her back to her apartment. She invited him in, cooked him dinner, which they ate with a couple of candles between them. It was romantic, and they were loving every second of it. It wasn’t what Lando had planned for his win; he was supposed to go out to dinner and party. But he’d told those who were set to come with him to go without him, and this was definitely better.
“I want to ask you to be mine, but I don’t want to push you,” Lando had said as they ate.
Y/N immediately shook her head. She reached over, placing her hand on top of Lando’s. “I wouldn’t have invited you in if I didn’t want this,” she said and let go of him.
They didn’t sleep together that night; Lando kept up with the whole not wanting to push her thing. He didn’t want to push her into sleeping with him and then have her regret it later. So, he took things slow, letting her make the first moved.
It didn’t take long for them to get together, Lando as her boyfriend and Y/N as his girlfriend. But it took a long while before she returned to a grand prix with him. Sure, the world had seen them kiss in Silverstone, but Y/N still needed time. She needed to mentally prepare herself for facing Carlos and the rest of the grid again.
It was towards the end of the season that Y/N went to the next grand prix. She joined him in Brazil, proudly walking through the paddock with her hand held in his. When the cameras started flashing, Lando leaned close and kissed the top of her head. That way there would be no doubts as to who they were to each other.
Lando didn’t win in Brazil. But he didn’t care – his girlfriend was there with him and that was all that mattered. She watched him stand third place on the podium, watched him spray champagne on Carlos and his teammate.
When Y/N hadn’t been keeping up with the sport, before she and Lando were together, she hadn’t realised just how close the title fight was this year. She didn’t realise that the Red Bull car was, essentially, a piece of shit, and that the only real contenders for the title was Lando, Charles and Carlos.
She and Lando made their way out of the circuit together, hand in hand. “Well done,” she said and reached up onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Lando kept her walking as she stole his hat and placed it on her own head. “I love watching you race.”
“I love it when you watch me race,” he replied, squeezing her hand.
Ahead of them was Carlos and his girlfriend. Since she hadn’t been keeping up with the world of Formula One, Y/N didn’t know her name. But she was pretty and, if they were happy, then good for them.
Even though he had won the race, Carlos’s body language was tense. Y/N knew him well enough to know that. She didn’t say anything, though, not when he definitely hated her.
It took a few hours for anything to actually come from this. Both couples had decided that they would stay for the night in Brazil, get a good sleep before heading home. They were staying in the same hotel, rooms relatively close to each other.
That was why, when they were away from the prying eyes of fans of the paparazzi cameras, Carlos took a swing at Lando.
It was sudden and terrifying, both girls stood back in shock. Because, really, what could they do? Try and attack two athletes who were definitely stronger than them?
But then a full of fight broke out. They were punching and trying to tackle each other to the floor. Carlos had his arm around Lando’s neck as he punched him, Lando trying his best to get away.
But he was struggling, his face red. That was when Y/N jumped onto Carlos’s back trying to get him away from Lando. When Lando finally got away, Carlos got Y/N off of his back, knocking her to the floor.
Immediately, Lando got Y/N to her feet. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He spat at his old friend, holding his girlfriend close.
Carlos didn’t answer as he walked off to his own room, his girlfriend following him.
There was a moment where Y/N and Lando didn’t go anywhere. They put some distance between themselves and the Spaniard. Both their hearts were beating erratically, Lando’s breath coming out short.
“I’m sorry,” Y/N mumbled as they started walking again. “I can’t believe he did that.”
Lando held her a little bit tighter. “You don’t have to apologise,” he said as he pulled out their room key. “He’s being an asshole.”
Things only got worse between them as the title fight heated up. Just as it did the year before, it took the right to the end of the season, with tension between Lando and Carlos becoming worse and worse. The media speculated as they watched the two interact, most of the speculations having something to do with Y/N. They were right; the title fight was just a small part of it now.
***
Abu Dhabi, 2025. Carlos was leading for most of the race and looked set for the win. It would have been his first championship win, a dream of any Formula One driver.
But Lando? He was tricky, and he was fuelled by more than a desire to win. Just as Carlos thought himself set for the win, Lando overtook him. Carlos didn’t see it at first, he had already begun waving to the crowds as the orange car crossed the finish line just half a second ahead of him.
Y/N let out a scream in the McLaren garage. The atmosphere was insane, much different to the atmosphere in the Ferrari garage from the year before. Everybody was jumping around and cheering, rushing out to meet Lando.
When he climbed out of his car he jumped at his team, screaming, shouting and crying.
Just as he did in Silverstone, he pulled off his helmet and placed it down by his feet, leaning down to kiss Y/N. This time he didn’t care about the post-race interviews, he kissed her until he was starving for air. It wasn’t sweet of kind, it was definitely too much for the cameras. It was a promise for later, for what was to come.
That night they celebrated, the team out partying. Y/N and Lando left the party before everybody else, alcohol in their systems as they made their way back to their hotel room.
The two were giggling, drunken messes, kissing on the street every few steps. He kept a tight hold of her, hand just a little too low on her back, but not quite obscene.
In the elevator of the hotel, Y/N was pressed against it, with Lando finally holding her ass. He kissed her feverishly, his kiss bruising.
And she loved every second of it.
Lando was impatient to get her into their hotel room. He kicked the door shut behind them and began pulling off her clothes, only breaking their kiss when he pulled her shirt over her head.
"I fucking love you," he said and began kissing down her neck.
She let out a moan, eyes flying shut as she unbuttoned Lando's shirt.
When they pulled apart to undress themselves, Lando looked at the purple bruises he'd left on her neck, grinning as his tongue came between his lips.
He wasted no time in throwing her down onto the bed, her arms wrapping around him as he went back to kissing her.
He began moving down her body, kissing her chest and between her breasts, moving down to where she needed him most. Her breathing became laboured as he kissed her thigh and gently bit it, his manner teasing.
His large hands rested on her hips as he leaned down, licking across her folds. He sank off of the bed, pulling her closer as he began eating her out. Like a man possessed and licked and sucked at her folds, his skills expert.
Y/N moaned and whined, gripped his hair as he held her still. She tried to move her hips against his face, but Lando held her still, keeping her there as he worked. "Holy fuck," she cried, throwing her head back and gripping the sheets.
Lando grinned as he sat up, painfully hard. Y/N grabbed him, pulling him back up to kiss her. "I want you to fuck me against the wall," she whispered as she moved to kiss down his neck.
The chain he wore dangled between them, getting in her way, but Y/N didn't care. It was incredibly hot.
Lando whispered something in her ear and Y/N nodded eagerly. He set his phone up across from the wall he was going to be fucking her against, and pressed record.
Suddenly Lando was up against the wall, Y/N on her knees in front of him. He moaned as she bobbed her head up and down him. His hand rested on the back of her head, not pushing, just holding her as if he wanted to ground himself.
Before too long Lando was pushing her way. If he was going to celebrate his championship win, he was going to do it inside of her.
"Come here, baby," he said as he gave her one last kiss. He picked her up, Y/N wrapping her legs around him, and turned them around, so that her back was against the wall.
Using the wall to keep her held in his arms, Lando reached between them and lined himself up. He pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.
"Ready?" He asked, forehead pressed against hers.
Y/N nodded and Lando began thrusting. It was incredible how strong he was as he pushed into her, pulling himself out and pushing back in.
Y/N let out cries and whines and moans as he fucked her. Because it wasn't romantic, the pace Lando was thrusting inside of her was animalistic.
She moved against the wall, eyes shut as she tightened her legs around Lando, coming closer and closer to the edge. Lando was, too, slowing his pace, becoming sloppy.
When Y/N finally went over the edge she fell forward, leaning her entire weight against him. Lando kissed her head and squeezed his eyes shut as he came, painting her insides with his seed.
He pulled out and carried her back to the bed. Picking up the phone he pointed the camera at Y/N, keeping her on full display. "She's my girl now," he said and ended the video, sending it to the man who was once his best friend.
Lando went to the bathroom and ran the bath. He made it warm and filled it with bubbles. As he waited for it, watched the video go through to Carlos, watched as he opened the message.
He turned off the water and walked back out to the bedroom, where his girlfriend was still laying, her breath evening out. She was close to falling asleep, he realised as he walked over and kissed her forehead.
"Come on, baby," he said and gently coaxed her up from the bed.
Rather reluctantly, Y/N followed Lando into the bathroom. She leaned against the door as he climbed into the water, waited until he was submerged, and slotted herself between his legs.
Lando gently washed her, scrubbing the sweat from her skin and the mess between her legs.
***
Carlos wasn't sure when his girlfriend had left. It was just like last time, alone again after missing out on the championship. It was his fault, even if he didn't know it.
When his phone buzzed he picked it up, desperately hoping that maybe he wasn't so alone.
But then he saw the message, then he opened the video.
His face twisted with rage. He threw his phone across the room, the device bouncing of the wall, the screen completely shattered.
He was going to kill Lando Norris.
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Text
Burns Like Rum
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.
Word Count: 7,840 words
Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet
18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock
Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.
The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.
He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.
It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.
But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.
You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.
"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.
Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.
And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.
You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.
"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.
"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.
"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"
You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.
"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"
Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."
You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."
You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.
It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.
The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.
She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.
"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.
She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.
You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"
"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.
But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"
"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."
Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.
Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.
He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.
You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."
From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."
He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."
"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.
"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."
You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."
"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.
You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.
Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.
Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"
"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.
He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.
"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable
"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."
He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.
"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.
Astarion sighed. "...Night."
~❊~
You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.
You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.
"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.
"Stop what?"
"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.
Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"
"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."
You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"
Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."
You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."
You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.
His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.
"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."
"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"
Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.
"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.
Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.
"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"
"I could go for a little," you said.
Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.
You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.
He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.
"You're starving, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."
Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"
You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."
His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"
A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.
Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."
"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.
He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."
~❊~
Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.
You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.
You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."
Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.
He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.
A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"
You nodded. "Just a bit."
Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."
You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.
"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.
He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.
"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"
Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."
Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.
"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.
You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.
It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.
Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"
You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.
The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.
You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.
Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"
You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."
"Are you ready?"
You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.
Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.
One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"
"Please do," you said.
"Arms up."
He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.
"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.
"Yes, dear?"
You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."
He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.
"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.
You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.
"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.
You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"
"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."
Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.
Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.
"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"
You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.
Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.
Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.
He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.
Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.
Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.
"Look at you," he whispered.
The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.
He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.
He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.
"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."
You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.
You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.
"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.
He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.
"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.
He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.
"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."
Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.
He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.
You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.
Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.
Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"
"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.
He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."
He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.
You smiled. "There's more where that came from."
Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.
You nodded. "I can take a few more."
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."
You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."
The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."
He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.
Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.
He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.
"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.
You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."
The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."
You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."
He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."
You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"
Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.
"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.
Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.
You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.
You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.
"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.
He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.
Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.
Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.
The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.
Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.
But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.
He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"
You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."
He snorted. "Excuse you!"
"It's all over your face!"
He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."
Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."
He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.
"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.
"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"
Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."
You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.
"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.
You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"
The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.
"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."
He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."
You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.
His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.
His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."
You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."
Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.
"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."
He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.
You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.
When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."
You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."
You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."
He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."
Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.
You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"
~❊~
You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.
Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.
Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.
You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.
You were wrong.
Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.
"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"
You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"
She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"
"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."
She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."
You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.
You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.
Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"
You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"
"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"
"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."
Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.
"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.
Astarion smirked.
"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."
He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.
Karlach squeaked.
"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."
"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."
You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"
Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.
A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.
You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."
Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"
Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"
"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."
"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin
part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}
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pupkashi · 10 months
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the last person you expect to patch you up is gojo satoru, so why are you knocking on his door?
a/n: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this :] im not sure if i like it very much but I’ll let u guys pick it apart and decide if i should be run off the app or not :P please let me know what u guys think !!
wordcount: 1,376
masterlist
you’re hesitant to knock on the door you’re facing, one arm squeezing your middle and the other holding you up against the wall. you’re sure you looked like we’re about to die, but still you could help but feel like death was a better option than knocking on gojo satoru’s door at 2 in the morning.
the stinging in your side leaves you no choice, lifting your hand and knocking three times. every passing second seems eternal and you almost want to just walk away and head to campus, hoping you make it until morning.
the door swings open, satoru looks at you with wide eyes and messy hair. he looks so normal, you think, taking in his appearance of sweatpants and a t shirt he must’ve thrown on seconds before.
“what the fuck happened to you?” he breathes out, not hesitating to pick you up, carrying you to his restroom and flicking the light on. if you were any more lucid you might’ve caught the genuine concern in his voice and the pounding heart in his chest.
“think the higher ups hate me” you manage to chuckle out, sucking in a sharp breathe when you try to sit up on your own.
satoru is quick to help you up, large hands gently handling you. his brows are furrowed as he looks at the state you’re in.
“why didn’t you call up shoko or go to campus or- literally anything else?!” he scold you, his voice is a higher pitch than you’re used to, he’s running his hands through his hair, tugging slightly before sighing deeply and calming himself down.
“didn’t wanna bother ‘em” you say, voice small. gojo knows in his mind you of all people could never be a bother, especially when shoko absolutely loves you.
“can i take this off?” he asks softly, tugging at your uniform top. you nod weakly, letting him work the fabric off you gently, sucking his teeth when he sees the gash on your side.
“that bad huh?” you laugh, there’s a beat of silence that you find unbearable. your eyes are heavy and the only way you can muster staying awake is by talking, words leaving your mouth without even thinking, “not gonna tell me ‘I’ve had worse’ or ‘this is nothing’ ?”
satoru only brings himself to snicker, “you’re about to pass out and you still wanna bicker with me.”
“to be fair it’s always you starting shit” you chuckle, hissing when he starts cleaning your wound. satoru mumbles a small ‘sorry’ before continuing.
you weren’t completely wrong, satoru always loved seeing you riled up. he loved watching the way the fire ignited behind your eyes when you shot something back at satoru, he loved watching your nose scrunch up when he said something stupid, he loved how you’d fight back smiles when he disrespected some asshole higher up.
“yeah, yeah, you're always saying that” he smiles, finishing up whatever he could on your side before moving to the cuts on your face.
you were still as he gently dabbed the wipes on your face, the slight stinging feeling was the last thing on your mind. the smell of his body wash was muddling your thoughts, the way his fingertips brushed against your skin gave you goosebumps.
“who sent you on the mission?” his voice was no longer playful and light. there was an edge to his voice as he spoke, and you couldn’t stop the chills that ran down your spine.
the only thing you could muster was a small shrug of your shoulders.
“it was the higher ups from last time, wasn’t it? the one you stood up to?” his voice is threatening and low, blue eyes boring into you as you tried to avoid eye contact.
“y/n, look at me” the stern tone left no room for protest, looking at him and gulping. you nodded your head, whispering a small ‘yeah.’ satoru mumbled something you couldn’t hear, his jaw clenched and hands shaking slightly.
“I’m going to kill them” he spat, taking a step back before look at you again, the sight filling him with even more rage.
“didn’t you say that wouldn’t change anything?” you stated, sitting up as best you could, trying your best to hide the pain you felt from the sudden movement.
satoru ignored your words, already making a move to head out of the bathroom door, but your voice stopped him.
“don’t- i don’t wanna be alone” you whispered, eyes watering a bit as the reality of the situation hit you all at once. “i just- nevermind” you laughed dryly, hissing as you pushed yourself off the countertop and stood.
satoru was immediately at your side holding you up, “what are you-” your words cut him off before he could finish.
“I’m gonna go home, don’t wanna bother you more than i have” you smiled, eyes still a bit teary. you’re brain doesn’t process what’s happening fast enough, only realizing what’s happening a couple seconds later when satoru’s arms are wrapped around your body.
“you aren’t going anywhere” he mumbles against the top of your head, squeezing you gently.
the warmth of his body is enough to comfort you, muscles relaxing and letting your tears spill against his chest.
“why?” you whisper, the question causing satoru to tense up against you. “why do you care so much?”
his thoughts stop for a second, the only thing on his mind is you. the way you’re looking at him in a way you never have before, with an emotion he can’t place. he can only think of one thing.
“isn’t it obvious?” he replies, voice soft, his cheeks heating up and ears burning. he’s trying to hide the slight tremble of his hands as he caressed your cheek softly, thumb wiping away a stray tear.
“only obvious thing about you is your ego” you smile, laughing a bit between sniffles as satoru gasps at you.
“and you say i start things?” he giggles, picking you up softly before leading you to his bedroom. the two of you in a comfortable silence as he looks through his drawers, handing you one of his shirts and shorts for you to change into.
“you can drop me off at home-” you begin but satoru is quick to speak over you.
“I’ll sleep on the couch, there’s some toothbrushes in the top drawer under the sink,” he says, continuing to list off any other items you’d need and where to find them.
it’s ten minutes later and you’re laying in the large bed, staring at the ceiling when you find the energy to walk into the hallway, peeking around the corner and into the living room.
satoru smiled at you, the bright tv lights illuminating his figure, “cant sleep?” he asks. you nod your head, slowly making your way towards him. “c’mere” he says softly, gently moving you when you sit on the couch, letting you cuddle into his side until you were comfortable.
between the exhaustion and the comfort of satoru’s fingers running along your arm you were sound asleep in a matter of minutes (10, satoru was counting). he placed a feathery kiss to the top of you head, shifting to pick you up, carrying you to his bed and tucking you in, slipping besides you before facing the opposite direction.
you stirred a bit, mumbling something and causing satoru to turn, “y/n?” he whispered. you seemed to gravitate towards him, one of your arms finding him and tugging his shirt, making him come closer to you. still asleep, you nuzzled yourself against him, sighing softly before stilling again.
satoru draped his arm around you, keeping you close before letting his eyes shut. for tonight, he won’t think about the thing he’ll say and do to the higher ups who sent you on that mission as punishment.
instead he’ll hold you close, keeping you safe and making sure you’re well enough to argue on any and every thing possible. he’ll make you breakfast tomorrow and ask if you feel the same for him. he’ll rush you to shoko so he can kiss you with as much passion and fervor as he’s imagined since the time you almost beat him in an argument.
taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags
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the woobification of the lords is something ill never be able to wrap my head around 😭 its insane to me how people can have such a horrible interpretation of events and characters based off of what we have in the actual game
let me start off by saying that ALL FOUR LORDS DID HORRIBLE THINGS (INCLUDING THE DIMITRESCU DAUGHTERS) !
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lady dimitrescu isnt some gentle giant who only hates men and loves women and treats them like queens and she just loves living a quiet life with her daughters, she kills and tortures people 😭😭 she like actively killed her maids and drank their blood 😭 they have a basement that has so much blood in it that it goes up to ethans THIGHS
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they are muderous and SADISTIC, including the daughters
the woobfication of the dimitrescu daughters is always the most confusing to me. their faces are literally covered in BLOOD 😭😭 they chase ethan around and stab him will laughing and giggling, cassandra literally calls it a HUNT, it is fun to them and they enjoy it
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people always try to frame it as ethan breaking into their homes while they are scared and afraid 😭 i can assure you that nobody is afraid of him at first 😭 they dont think hes an actual threat, thats why they toy with him. and dont act like they were unaware of what he wanted. they were all present at the family meeting with miranda, they were all present when they JARRED rosemary 😭 they know what ethan wants, they know who ethan is, to frame them as "minding their own business" is the most absurd interpreation you could make of them
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they were all involved, they all knew what he wanted, and they all HAD what he wanted
you can feel sympathy for lady D, when she cries for her daughters with tears in her eyes, she loved them, they were her family, but you cannot deny the hypocrisy. "how can you kill my daughters for your own!" you have his daughters head in a pickle jar! her daughters werent innocent defenless babies who were scared of big ol ethan stomping around in their house, they have weapons! they wanted to hurt him, and they did, and when he fought back he won
i cannot stress enough that in every single fight, ethan is not the first to strike. he is either backed into a corner where its either his life or theirs, or he is literally being tortured/ chased around, what do you want him to do? these people have pieces of his baby, should he have lied down and died?? 😭
whenever ethan is in a situation where the other person isnt stabbing him in the abdomen 100 times he tries to HELP them 😭 he tries to help absoulute strangers of a village he doesnt even know while he knows his own daughter is missing, even when the stranger is also a jerk to him 😭 he wants allies, he isnt actively trying to make enemys, and before you cry "karl heisenberg!" im getting there...
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the thing that bothers me with how people treat donna is that although she isnt the WORST she gets woobfied the MOST imo, like she is the ONLY lord (other than karl but hes a outlier because he wanted ethan to come over so they could make out on his bed) who actively lures ethan in, miss dimitrescus, yeah sure u could say that he trespassed, same with moreau, but donna literally LURES HIM IN with hallucinations of his DEAD WIFE, then OPENS THE DOOR for him and TAKES HIM DOWN THE ELEVATOR
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she is literally one of the people who ACTIVELY leads him to where she is
she also uses psychological puzzles , like making ethan perform surgery on a wooden doll of his wife and making him run away from a monster that cries like a baby and calls him "dada" 😭 she did not need to do any of that... like at all 😭 she did it because she wanted to 😭 she is by no means innocent at all
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she toyed with him for literally no reason other than her own desire and then ethan doesnt even intentionally kill her. he is in a situation where is his trapped in the house and has to find angie, the doll, to avoid being attacked by dolls with like 100 knives stapled onto them
its only when he defeats angie its revealed that he had actually stabbed DONNA. he didnt even intentionally kill her 😭
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then moreau... poor moreau... 😭
moreau in my opinion is one of the more sympathetic lords. whoever he was in his life pre cadou has no influence or impact on his life post cadou, the cadou just wrecked his brain functions
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all he is is just mirandas minion at this point, he only wants to please her and doesnt really think about anything else for himself 😭
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i dont have much to say about moreau because theres not really many people who woobfiy him or pay him any attention really 😭 though i will say he was very unabashedly evil 😭 he did horrible things, such as eating the fishermen and his experiments with the cadou on the villagers, he did it for mirandas approval but its not a excuse for it, hes still a villian 😭 now we are onto karl.... this guy... the woobification of him is insane 😭 first of all, something i dont see people acknowledge is that he actually HAS killed villagers! no he doesnt just use dead bodies (which btw isnt really a step up 😭 some of u set the bar too low man) the lycan gauntlet that he made ethan run through? yeah, he used that before! he has an entire PA system set up in it! he has lights and huge spikey metal death traps! he did not make all of that just for ethan just to "play appearances" for miranda. there were other people who went through that. and they DIED!
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their deceased bodies are still in there! karl is messed up and eccentric 😭 it makes him fun, let him be messed up and evil 😭 and yes, karl used DEAD bodies instead of killing people who were alive, so surely that makes him far less evil right?
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WRONG! 😭
HE CONSIDERED USING LIVE BODIES FOR THE SOLDATS 😭
karl really isnt a good person, he has reasons for the things he does, he wants to take down miranda and i dont think hed be creating undead zombies in the first place if it werent for her ruining his life but that isnt justification, its just an explanation for why he does what he does. he has a sympathetic back story and motives but you cant erase what he did, hes a villain! he tries to use a baby as a weapon!!! all 4 of the lords are villains, and instead of making other characters worse to uplift your favorite character that did something bad, you can just accept that the character you like did bad things 😭 they are all fictional, if i like moreau it does not mean i endorse eating fishermen 😭 you can like a character that is flawed, or evil, or did insanely messed up things because its RESIDENT EVIL. they are EVIL! they do bad things! like im sorry! but if your fave has a villains wiki it probably means they did some bad things! 😭
i wish people would be able to enjoy a character without entirely dismissing the bad things they did. its okay to like a character that does bad things, its ok to find them interesting and fun! but you cant deny what actually happens in games to try and make them appear as innocent. you dont have to justify every little thing that they do, just accept them as a whole!
of course this doesnt apply to AUs or just posting for fun. you can change media to be what you want to make it more fun. im going to draw lady dimitrescu treating ethan like a unwanted family pet. does that mean that i think she would really do that in canon? no! she would bite him and then tie him up like a pinata and give her daughters blindfolds and bats!
but people need to be able to recognize that fanon is NOT canon.
this post is about canon interpretations,
this is just addressing people who genuinely believe that those kinds of portrayals of the character is an ACCURATE portrayal, because its not.
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)
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Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
(Prologue and Chapter 1)
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You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.
“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”
“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”
You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”
“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”
You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”
“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”
In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.
You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”
Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.
Two Years Ago…
“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.
“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.
“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.
“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.
“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.
“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.
“Do you like it?” He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.
“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did. 
You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go. 
“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”
He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.
“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.
“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder. 
The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.
“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.
“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”
You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat. 
“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him. 
Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him. 
“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”
You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.
“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”
Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.
“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.
With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.
“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.
You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.
He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.
“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”
He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.
Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”
He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.
You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”
His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck. 
“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”
“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck. 
“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.
“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked. 
“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”
With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you. 
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts. 
“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see. 
 You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.
“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.
“I love it,” You answered.
“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.
“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.
He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness. 
“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was. 
The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.
Now…
Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls. 
“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath. 
Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.
You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.
Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.
Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.
“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.
Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too. 
A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”
“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.
“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”
“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her. 
“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”
Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.
“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.
You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.
“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.
Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.
“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”
The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.
“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”
He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.
Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach. 
You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.
You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.
“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.
“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.
“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.
“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.
“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”
“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”
You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”
“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.
“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”
It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.
“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”
There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.
“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes. 
“What happened to you, Rafe?”
“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”
You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.
You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,
“I hate your hair.”
And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.
(chapter 3)
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a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶
taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts
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laenordeservedbetter · 4 months
Text
Why?
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Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader (Daughter of Athena)
Synopsis: Percy sees something he never expected to see.
Warnings: Fluff, kissing, confused Percy, Clarisse slander (Percy), fear of spiders. lmk if I missed any.
This one-shot is based on this tweet.
A/N: Hello, lovely people. I'm back. I can't believe it's been almost a year since I last wrote on here. My writing skills got rusty, but I hope you enjoy reading anyway.
not my gif. || masterlist
Percy was walking with Luke as the latter continued showing him the camp facilities that they didn’t get to go over in the original tour when he sees a strange sight that makes him stop walking. He squints his eyes, wondering if his mind was playing tricks on him. When his visions do not change, his eyebrows raise, almost going to the top of his head by how surprised he was.
Luke stops talking when he notices that Percy’s attention was elsewhere. He tries to follow Percy’s line of sight and chuckles when he does. “Oh, yeah. That.” Luke smiles, amused. “That happens pretty much every once in a while.”
“Should we help her?” Percy asks, mortified, as he refers to you. He felt uneasy, seeing you with Clarisse. She is the camp bully, isn’t she? People shouldn’t be leaving you alone with her. Something about the predicament he saw the two of you in seemed off. It shouldn’t be happening, that’s for sure. He steps forward, wanting to free you from the torture when Luke places a hand on his shoulder, preventing him from doing so.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Luke shakes his head, making sure Percy wasn’t going to make any more steps before he retracts his hand.
“Why are Clarisse and Y/n sitting with their backs to each other?” Percy looks up at Luke, knowing the older camper wasn’t going to let him interfere. The least Luke could do was answer his questions.
“They had a fight.” Luke explains simply, still with an amused smirk.
“Then why are they holding hands?”
“They get sad when they fight.” The raven-haired boy shrugs.
Percy doesn’t say anything, keeping up with his staring. It didn’t occur to him how creepy or weird it was, seeing how baffled he still is upon seeing you and Clarisse in the same room, and holding hands. It’s giving him the heebie-jeebies. What business did Clarisse have holding hands with one of the kindest people in camp? He didn’t like that idea, but there was nothing he could do about it. His only hope was that Clarisse doesn’t infect you with her bad attitude.
Meanwhile, inside the Athena cabin, you squeezed Clarisse’s hand three times, but you didn’t say a word. You were still pretty upset from the incident earlier.
Clarisse tried to look at you from her peripheral vision and even though you couldn’t see it, you knew that her face was ridden with guilt. She sighs, “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tossed that spider to you when we were in the woods, even if I was freaked out.”
You had been walking in the woods together, hand in hand, when a spider fell on Clarisse’s shoulder. Her natural instinct was to kill it, but she didn’t have any weapons with her and she was starting to panic, so she did the first thing her brain told her to do. She flung the spider over to you despite knowing full well that you were afraid of them.
You take a deep breath, staying silent for a few seconds before saying, “I forgive you and I’m sorry for yelling and cursing you.” Your head hung low in shame. That wasn’t your proudest moment either. The things you said would have made even Chiron blush.
Clarisse gives out a huge sigh of relief, momentarily letting go of your hand so she can stand up. She walks over so she can finally be face to face with you. “It’s okay, I forgive you. You were freaking out too.” She wraps her arms around you, meeting your gaze with a smile.
“I thought my soul left my body at that point.” You pouted, bits of distress still not wearing off.
She cups your face, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Do you feel better now?” She asks with a soft smile.
You can’t stop the smile from spreading to your face, too. You wrap your arms around her waist and hug her from your position on the chair, holding her tighter for maximum comfort. Clarisse laughs at how you didn’t want to let go, even after two minutes have passed.
“I love you so much. You know that, right?” Clarisse states, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
“I know.” You murmur happily against her, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.
Outside the cabin, about ten feet away, Percy Jackson could be seen with his jaw dropped and eyes wider than before. “They’re dating?!” He exclaims, looking at Luke in a panic. It seems that he didn’t connect the dots until you and Clarisse kissed. And even then, it seemed like it wasn’t true. He wasn’t concerned anymore, just confused.
Luke’s brows furrowed. “Couldn’t you already tell by the way they were holding hands earlier?”
Percy stares at Luke, his mouth agape, then back to you and Clarisse, then back to Luke again, feeling like he was about to combust because of this new information. “What? No. Why would I even—”
Luke pulls Percy along, cutting his rambling short. “You have much to learn, Percy. So much.” He walks ahead, heading back to the Hermes cabin. “Come on. I’ll fill you in when we get back to the cabin.”
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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months
Text
Mattheo Riddle headcanons
masterlist ko-fi ao3
Summary: what is it like dating Mattheo
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: fluff, no mention of y/n, you can be in any house, spicy content under the warning
Author’s note: For all my Bucky fanfic readers, I'm sorry that I haven’t posted in almost a month. This December is just too overwhelming, and every time I tried to finish my fic, it felt like I was wasting my time. I literally just miss the ending, and I hope to finish it as soon as possible.
For my possible new followers and/or HP stans, Mattheo is my current obsession, and I’m literally head over heels for him. And you know what they say: if you can’t find a fanfic that you like, write it yourself. So yeah, I'm trying something new, and I have a few ideas that are poisoning my head every single minute lmao.
sorry if there are any mistakes. hope you’ll like it💘🎀
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Mattheo was never that much of a playboy because he didn’t like to share his space and, well, communicate with people in general
Due to his family, he was really reserved and refused to be weak
You weren’t that popular in school, so he had never really noticed you but one day, you suddenly started hanging out with Pansy and he could not get you out of his head anymore
He hated it
He hated that you occupied all of his thoughts for at least a few weeks 
Tried to ignore his feelings for you as long as possible, but from the moment you two had to work together on the project, everything went downhill 
He was scared to ask you out, not ready to be rejected by the only person he genuinely liked and thinking that maybe you secretly hated him like everyone else
At the beginning of the relationship, Mattheo told you that sometimes he might get cold and distant, but it wasn’t your fault and that you should just give him some time 
Mattheo is romantic and for his favorite girl, he always arranged the best dates
He was nervous to kiss you after the first date when he walked you to your dorm
Little did he know, but that sexy smirk and the way he looked at you all night drove you insane
So you just pulled him by the tie, connecting your lips
Since then, Mattheo has been addicted to you
Hands are always on you, holding your hand, your waist or your thighs
Looks at you as if you hung the moon and the stars
He kisses you in front of everyone to make sure that they know that you are his, and he is yours
Likes to pull into into his lap while he’s talking with his friends in the common room
Holding you close, slowly strokes your arms or your back, unable to keep his hands away from you
Whispers sweet nothings
Loves your smell and always buries his nose into your hair
He wears rings and allows you to steal them
His hoodies and t-shirts too
Secretly likes to be little spoon or lay on your chest while your hands are playing with his curls
Buys you everything you might possibly like, even though you always tell him to stop spending his money on you
Likes to study with you because you can actually get ready for the lessons while he has another opportunity to stare at you 
So overprotective and always snaps back at people who, even in the slightest way, disrespect you
He never lets you go to the parties alone in case some creepy guys decide to hit on you
Possesive
When you’re wearing revealing clothes, one part of him is proud and wants to brag that his girlfriend is the sexiest woman on the planet, but the other part wants to cover you with big blanket and keep you to himself
Always sarcastic and sassy
Fights a lot 
He had never gone to the medical wing because he wasn’t used to asking for help, but since you started dating, he let you heal his wound 
Loves when you scold him for those fights, just because you look so cute when you’re angry and he has an excuse to kiss and spoil you 
He has anger issues, but he has never raised his voice at you
Actually, you are like a sedative to him because only you can calm him down in a matter of seconds 
Will never make you feel uncomfortable or insecure
You don’t like something or someone? Mattheo will make sure to get you out of the room and won’t let that person come near you ever again
The way you call him “Matty” turns him into a literal puddle
Can’t sleep without you in his arms
spicy
During your first time, he was super attentive and always checked whether you were okay or not
Praises. A lot of fucking praises
“You’re taking me so good, my love”, “you look so pretty when you cum around me.” 
He likes every position, but prefers when he can see your face
There is literally not a single place in his dorm where you two haven’t had sex
Gets turned on literally by everything you do
He’s risky. As soon as he finds out that you actually liked it, he always teases you under the table, pulls you into the storage rooms, and talks dirty while there are a lot of people around
Got you two in detention a few times for getting caught kissing at night by Snape (you were lucky that he caught you before Mattheo’s hands slipped under your skirt)
His personal favorite is sex in the astronomy tower. The way you’re trying to hold back your moans drives him crazy
Also bathtub in the prefects’ bathroom, where you love to sit with him deep inside of you  
He usually dominates, but sometimes likes to let you be in charge and see how you ride him
He has a big appetite, and what is the best way to deal with it? Right, you.
Mattheo would’ve spent hours in between your legs if you allowed him
He never asks for anything in return, but still seeing you on your knees for him is a fucking miracle
Your hair are around his hand, while you’re taking as much of him in your mouth as you can
Eye contact
He’s willing to try in bed anything that you want, except things that might get you hurt
He likes to keep his hand on your neck while he’s thrusting into you but never actually squeezes
Can be rough and fast or really gentle and slow, depending on the mood
After someone pisses him off or if you had a small fight, he always fucks you into the bed with your hands pinned above you until you’re literally crying from pleasure
By the way, when you don’t have time to put a spell on the room, it gives him satisfaction to know that everyone hears the way you moan for him
He always makes sure that you came, and if you didn’t, he’s more than happy to go down on you
Love confessions 
Aftercare is a must
Hugs, kisses, food, baths—anything you might want
He always keeps you close until you fall asleep and then just stares at you, wondering how he could be so happy to have you  
2K notes · View notes
hyunniesgirl · 7 months
Text
Another Love | part 1
Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.
Words count: 8,539
Warnings for this part: lots of angst, drunk people, drunk Han is petty asf
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
A/N: So I made that pool asking if I should post this fic in chapters or a 20,000+ words chapter and the long ass chapter won but at the time my mind told me I would be able to finish the whole fic before posting it... Jokes on me I need validation and feedback for me to write so yeah let's do this in chapters, sorry
A/N2: I had this idea for quite some time now but got suddenly inspired listening to the song another love.
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You're done. Really, you can't take it anymore. You've known Han Jisung since elementary school, you have been basically joined at the hip since then, your parents even became best friends because of you two.
You don't know exactly when you fell in love with him, was it on your second day at school when he invited you to play with him because he noticed you were all alone? Was it when someone made an awkward joke about your messed up hair cut in second grade and he picked a fight with them? Maybe it was the very first moment you laid eyes on him, joking around with everyone and being the most popular kid in the classroom. You really can't remember, but the thing you're sure of is: Han Jisung doesn't like you back.
You've always known that, but inside you there was a tiny bit of hope that one day he would wake up and suddenly love you back.
That didn't happen though. You are now 23 and he has never ever shown the smallest amount of romantic interest in you.
"That's fine", you thought to yourself, ever since you realized your feelings for him, "I'm going to stay with him his entire life, that doesn't sound so bad"
Until it started to sound really bad. What are you gonna do? See him getting a girlfriend, then getting engaged and eventually married? Would you always be there on the sidelines listening to his lovesick whines about the woman he loves so much? Would you be the godmother to his children? By then, would you have gotten over him already? Or would you keep this up forever, marrying someone just because you can't stay alone and being in love with your best friend for the rest of your life? That was the moment you knew you had to stop, you can't keep this up.
Coincidentally Han broke up with his last girlfriend a few months ago, you thought that would be a good opportunity for you to be his rebound, yeah, pretty dignified of you.
So you dress up really pretty, hair up, a dress that always made Han compliment you and to finish it off—the necklace he gave you on your 12th birthday.
You think this is it, this is the day you're going to tell him how much you love him and maybe, just maybe he will contemplate giving you a chance.
When he arrives at your shared apartment, with two cans of beer and fried chicken, you give him a cheerful greeting, setting the table and trying to gather courage to speak.
"So, how was practice?", you begin, maybe some small talk will help you relax.
"It was good, we are almost done with the album", he says, typing something on his phone. "How was your day?", he asks, putting the device on the table and looking at you.
"Good, I had class in the morning and tutoring in the afternoon", you take a sip of your beer, "one of the mothers actually recommended me to other parents and I'm gonna start tutoring more students next week"
He smiles, "that's good, you're really smart"
You blush, bringing the back of your hands to your face to try and lessen the hot skin of your cheeks with the cold of your hands.
"Actually, I want to talk to you", you start, it's now or never.
"Sure-", Jisung stops mid sentence when his phone buzzes. "Just a minute", he looks at the screen and smiles, your heart sinks at the sight. You know that smile too well, you have seen it dozens of times. You feel your insides turning over. It's the smile meant only for the person he likes.
"Hey, Lia. Yeah, totally, I can talk right now", he picks up the call and once again asks you for a minute lifting his index finger, he walks towards the balcony and closes the glass door after going through it.
He's laughing about something, is she even that funny or is he just trying to win her favor? She's pretty, you know it. All of his girlfriends looked like models. You sigh, looking at yourself and feeling awful, suddenly you don't feel pretty anymore, you actually feel ridiculous.
Why did you think things would change just because you got brave enough to speak up? Jisung sees you as a best friend and nothing more, you have to come to terms with that.
Your mind is rushing, thinking about what you're going to do now? Can you keep being friends with him? Yeah, of course, he's your best friend, you won't end your friendship because you can't control your feelings. But you'll need time, right? You won't be able to get over this unrequited love if you keep seeing him everyday, doing everything with him and sleeping in the same house.
"So, what do you want to talk about?", he asks, sitting again. You didn't even notice he had come back inside.
You sigh, you'll tell him about it all and then you'll find the strength in you to move on.
"I like you", you say so low you're not sure he heard you. But he did, he smiles and chuckles.
"I like you too, we're best friends for a reason", he stretches his arm to take a fried chicken.
"No, I like like you", you admit, hugging yourself, feeling cold suddenly, you look around and see Han left the door to the balcony open. "I've been in love with you since I can remember", you complete.
The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't tragic, his brows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes have a very familiar look: fear. Of course, he's afraid of losing his best friend, you already guessed that much.
"Y/N I-", you notice his breathing quickening. "I'm sorry, I never knew", he says, shoulders slumping, his arms dropping to the side of his body.
"Yeah, I know you didn't", you say. He's still staring at you with so much hurt in his eyes. Jisung knows he will have to turn you down and it's going to hurt him a lot, but not as much as it will hurt you and he never ever wanted to hurt you. 
"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say", he takes a deep breath, "I never thought about you in that way, I'm really sorry, I don't feel the same"
You're not going to cry, you decided that the moment you saw fear in his eyes. It's not his fault you like him, he can't fall in love with you just because you love him. You're not going to cry and make him feel worse than you can tell he's already feeling. But listening to those words it's worse than you could have expected, you feel like the world is crumbling around you.
"I know you don't", you smile sadly.
He looks more confused now.
"Then, why did you tell me?"
"It's just… I'm done with all this", you reply, getting up from your chair.
"Done with our friendship?" Han can feel all the air leaving his body while he waits for your answer.
You chuckle, fidgeting with your foot.
"No, I don't think I could ever be done with that", you smile trying to reassure him and he feels so relieved. "I can't keep doing this, I can't continue seeing you with other people and stay hurting alone"
"I can stop bringing people to the apartment and I'll never talk about them around you", he says trying to help and your stomach sinks a lot more. Why does he have to be so sweet?
"Actually, I'll need some time", you clear your throat, "I think I'm going to stay with Seungmin for the time being, he is looking for a roommate"
Han's eyes widen and he gets up, walking towards you.
"What are you talking about? Are you going to move out?"
"It's not something definitive, I'm going to stay there until he finds a new roommate and come back after that", you take a step back, noticing how close he is to you. "Luckily by then I'll be over you, I think I just need some personal space for now, where you're not there everytime I look, or your things aren't mixed with mine or your scent isn't around every room"
"Will you still speak to me?", he asks, he wants to hug you, to hold you in his arms and say how sorry he is for not feeling the same. But he knows he can't, the best thing he can do is to keep his distance from you right now.
"I think we should keep it restricted to apartment things for now, I'll keep paying my half of the rent since my things will still be here"
"You don't have to pay if you're not here"
Ever since Jisung started making good money he insisted that you didn't have to pay for rent since you only work part time as a tutor to pay for your living expenses but you always refused. Even though he earns a lot more than you it wouldn't be fair for him to be the only one paying and honestly, you felt that if he was the only one paying for it, you would feel too much like you were a couple.
"No, I'll pay you. This arrangement doesn't change the fact that we still share the apartment"
He nods, looking down, the awkward silence making you sick.
"I'm really sorry I hurt you", he whispers and all the crying you avoided over this whole conversation threatens to come out at that exact moment.
"It's not your fault", you say, "I'm sorry I made things awkward, just give me some time and we'll be back to how things were, okay?", you give him a reassuring smile even though you're not sure things will ever go back to the way it was.
You wake up feeling like shit, you cried your eyes out the moment you stepped into Seungmin's apartment. He was so sweet to you, staying awake until you calmed down and even offered you his room for you to sleep but you refused. He was already doing you a favor by letting you stay on his couch until he found a roommate.
You sit, stretching yourself, you slept pretty comfortably but all the stress from last night left your muscles sore.
"Are you feeling better?", you hear Seungmin's voice and look at the kitchen, he's making coffee. That reminds you of all the days you woke Han up with a nice and hot coffee so he wouldn't be in a bad mood waking up so early.
"I don't think so", you answer, shaking your head like that would make your thoughts disappear. "Can you get me some of that?", you ask and he smiles.
"Already on it", you start tidying up the blanket and the pillow you used.
"What are you going to do today?", Seungmin asks while you sit at the table.
"I have some tutoring to do and class in the afternoon, maybe I'll go shopping with Hannah later"
"That's good, try to keep yourself entertained at least for the next couple of days", he hands you the mug and you nod.
All your friends knew about your crush on Han and you made all of them swear they wouldn't tell him. You were afraid things would be awkward now, since Han was their friend before you met them, but they all showed you support now that you had confessed.
Hannah had offered you to stay with her, but she has a roommate that's really strict about everything in their apartment and you don't want to cause trouble to your friend by staying there. Luckily Seungmin's last roommate had moved a couple of weeks ago and he was looking for someone new, but by the way he's picky that's not going to happen so soon.
"Since I'll be staying here and you won't accept money because I won't be using a room, the groceries will be on me and I won't accept no for an answer", you say finishing your coffee and getting up. Seungmin sighs, rolling his eyes.
"I know you're going to buy it anyway, so I'll accept it"
"Then send me a list of whatever you need and I'll buy it tonight or tomorrow", you blow him a kiss, picking your bag from the floor and heading to the bathroom.
You take a long, hot, refreshing shower and pick some comfortable clothes to go to your tutoring session.
Seungmin's already gone when you go back to the kitchen, there's a message from him on your phone.
Minnie: I left some sliced fruit in the fridge for you, eat before going out.
Minnie: I'll send you the list later btw
You smile, having someone taking care of you is nice. For a second, it makes you forget the reason why you're there to begin with.
You feel like crying again, but you can't show up to your students house with red eyes and a puffy face.
The parents that are near each other usually ask you to teach their children together in longer sessions. That strengthens the bond the kids have while strengthening the connection between the families. That usually happens when the families are wealthy, they see an opportunity in their children's friendship to get on each other's good side.
Your parents started hanging out with Jisung's parents too, not because of connections but because you two were always in each other's houses. Once, you broke your arm falling from a tree you tried to climb following Han, his mother had to call yours and calm her down on the phone the entire time your mother was driving to the hospital to meet you. That day you got scolded by both and after they finished the lecture they looked at each other and smiled, bonding over the fear of something happening to their precious child.
When they went out to buy some coffee and talk, Jisung sat by the side of your hospital bed, lips pouting and tearing up.
"I'm sorry I dared you to follow me all the way up there", he says, taking the hand of your good arm and holding it.
"It's okay, now at least I have an exciting story to tell the others", you say and he smiles, whipping his eyes.
The noise of the gate opening wakes you up from your daydream, you have to stop thinking about Han if you want to get over him.
The kids come running in your direction the moment the housekeeper opens the door.
"Miss Y/N, look I got a 9.5 on my test", the girl smiles brightly showing you the paper with the grade marked in red.
"Woah, Misu, you're so smart, I don't think you even need me anymore", you bend to her height and she pouts, sometimes she acts like a little child when she's already 12.
"Of course I need you, you're the prettiest and smartest person I know", she says and you hear someone clear their throats by the stairs. It's Misu's mother.
"If I didn't agree with her I'd be hurt", she says and you smile.
"Good morning, Mrs. Kim, I only helped a little, Misu's really smart", you say and the girl shows you her white teeth, looking at her mother and waiting for some praise.
"Of course she is", she pats the girl's head. "Eun, aren't you going to say hi to Y/N?"
The boy is a few months younger than Misu but a lot more shy. You saw him coming with her when you arrived but got so engrossed in your conversation that forgot he was there in silence.
"Hello, miss Y/N", he says, polite as ever.
"Hi, Eun, did you get a good grade like Misu?"
He nods, showing you his test with 9.8 marked in red.
"He's smarter than me", Misu pouts.
"Congratulations, Eun", you say, patting his head, making him blush and you smile. "I think you are both really smart and I'm here to help you get even smarter"
Mrs. Kim tells you to go ahead and start the lesson and invites you to stay for lunch. You were pretty lucky with the parents you met till now, all of them were nice to you and cared a great deal about their children so it's a lighthearted job to do.
The kids are indeed smart, usually you don't have to explain the same thing more than twice and they always ask a lot of questions during your time with them.
A week goes by since you last saw Jisung, fortunately he didn't try contacting you. You're sure that if he did you'd break hearing his voice and would beg for him to like you back, giving up on any pride you still have left.
You arrive at school an hour before your classes begin, you're meeting Hannah at the cafe nearby so you can talk a bit.
You look at your phone, there's a message from her saying she's on the bus but the traffic is awful so she might be a little bit late.
You choose a table by the window, contemplating if you should order already or wait till Hannah arrives.
Looking outside, you remember the moment you heard the news that you got into this university. Yours and Jisung's family were at your parents house, you both were seated on the couch when you received the message saying the college entrance results came out. You couldn't type your information, you were trembling so much Han had to do it for you.
When you read your name and the word "accepted" you actually screamed, making your mother drop the plate she had in hands. Your father and Han's came running to see what happened when Jisung showed them the screen.
Your mother and father embraced you, telling how proud they were of you and Jisung's parents did the same, like you were their own daughter.
Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you and making you burst out laughing. That moment was so good, you wanted to stay there forever.
"Earth to Y/N", you hear Hanna's voice and snap out of your thoughts, sighing. "Is everything okay?", she asks, worried.
"Yeah, I'm good", you say and she narrows her eyes, knowing you are not telling the truth.
Hannah left it at that though, you are going through a hard time and she doesn't want to push it.
Honestly, she don't expect you to be fine. Your lifelong crush had rejected you and to make things worse he is your best friend, so yeah, of course you are not okay.
"Then, I'm going to order", she drops her bag in the seat in front of you, "your usual?"
You nod, seeing her walk to the cashier. You met Hannah three years ago, when you started college. She's the total opposite of you, really outgoing and a total social butterfly, it seems those are the people you attract seeing how Han is the same.
She sat by your side on the first day, making a random joke and making you laugh, that's how she became your best friend. You didn't even have to tell her about your one sided love, she had to see only one interaction between you and Jisung to know exactly what was going on.
She is the one that urged you to tell him about your feelings and was very adamant about you moving on from him, she couldn't let you waste all your 20's being in love with someone that didn't like you back… or not the way you wanted to.
"So, I heard about a party", Hannah says, putting the pager on the table and sitting in front of you.
"There's like a hundred of those, you have to be more specific", you joke and she rolls her eyes.
"You know that guy from English literature? The one that dyed his hair pink last semester?"
"Yeah, it's kinda hard to forget about him", you laugh.
When Yunho came to school with pink hair a rumor of him becoming an idol started going around, everyone tried to be nice to him and all that shit but it turned out he just lost a bet.
"He's hosting this party in like a really big fancy place to celebrate his graduation", she finishes.
"That's nice", you say, fidgeting with your fingers under the table.
"Hmmm, are we going to go or what?", she asks and you glance at her.
"Were we invited?"
"Ahm, you're hot and I'm hot, why wouldn't we be invited?"
You laugh, knowing what she's doing. Hannah is more sensible than you give her credit for, you really thought she would ask about everything that happened on that night, but instead she has been trying to distract you for the past week and that is really nice of her.
She smiles, seeing you smile. Hannah knows you never give enough credit to yourself, you never think you're pretty enough, funny enough, cool enough or smart enough even though you're those things and much more. She approached you on your first day because there's just something about you, something bright and cheerful. When people are upset, mad or sad you always do your best to make them feel better, so Hannah felt this was her time to cheer you up.
The pager buzzes on the table and she gets up, going to the counter to get your orders.
You look at her coming back with a big grin in her lips, handing you the coffee with a note glued to the cup sleeve.
"To the girl with the yellow cardigan, I see you coming here often and I think you're cute, maybe we can hangout sometime? If you're up to it, text me: xxx xxxx-xxxx"
You blush, looking at the counter and seeing the cutest guy looking at you with flushed cheeks. He's so red you can see it from where you're seated. He smiles waving at you and you wave back.
Hannah has one eyebrow lifted looking at your interaction and you feel your cheeks even hotter.
"So, are you going to text him?", she asks, reading the note and you sigh.
"I don't think so", you say, sipping at your coffee.
"Why not?"
"I don't think it would be fair to someone if I start something with them when I'm still in love with someone else", you answer and Hannah sighs.
"Yeah, you have a point", she pouts, "but like, maybe messing around a little won't hurt? I mean, he's not in love with you or anything, you can talk with each other and see where things go"
Hannah's right and you know it. Even though it's still too soon, you should try meeting new people, you're not going to get over Han just by staying away from him.
This feelings, you have it with you for so long, it's hard to let it go. Loving Han is the only romantic feeling you have ever known, it's scary to walk off of this thing you know so well  to something completely new.
You have to, though. It's the only way for your friendship to keep existing. So you nod to Hannah, taking your phone out of your pocket and dialing the number written on the cup, seconds later you're typing a message.
You: Hey, it's the girl in the yellow cardigan, my name is Y/N btw
You send and hear a ping, you thought he would have his phone on silent mode and sudden embarrassment creeps up when you see him taking his phone out of the pocket of his apron.
Cute guy: Hey, I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, so let me apologize first. I just didn't know how to approach you
Cute guy: Ah, and I'm Heeseung
You change the name in his contact before replying.
You: it didn't make me uncomfortable and thank you for calling me cute.
Heeseung: you don't have to thank me for telling the truth.
You giggle, it's interesting to feel like this, even though you can tell it's something temporary.
You: lol, you're really smooth.
"Let's go?", Hannah says, smirking at you and you blush. You nod, picking your things up and getting up from the table, you wave goodbye to Heeseung before going out and he smiles brightly at you.
>><<
The morning after you went away, Han woke up feeling awful, all the things that happened the previous night coming back at him at the same time. He was sure the moment you walked out of the door, giving him your best smile and trying not to cry was the saddest he ever felt in his entire life. You were his best friend, you were everything to him, he felt like shit because he never noticed your feelings. He doesn't know what he would have done if he knew, but maybe he could have been better, talking less about his relationships and especially not bringing his hook ups to the apartment.
He got up, feeling like crying everytime he had to pass by your bedroom door, knowing you were not there and wouldn't be for far too long, all because of him. The bell rings and he runs to the door, hoping it's you, hoping you'll tell him everything was a joke and that you didn't actually like him. Even though he knows you wouldn't press the doorbell since you know the password and he knows the hurt in your eyes when he said he didn't feel the same as you was no joke.
So it was no surprise when he opened the door and found Chan and Changbin there. They did tell him they were going to stop by in the morning to pick him up but with all the things that happened he just forgot about it.
"Are you okay? You look like shit", Changbin says entering the house.
Chan looks at Han, worried.
"Are you sick?", he asks, "where's Y/N?" He knows you wouldn't leave Han alone if he were sick, but you would have shown up already by hearing Changbin's loud voice.
"She's gone", Han says, running his hands through his hair.
"What do you mean?", Chan asks with wide eyes.
"She- she confessed to me and I turned her down", he says, maybe he should have told you he could like you back, that way he wouldn't be feeling this way and you'd still be there with him.
"Shit", Changbin says, his lips pressed in a thin line.
Han looks at the both of them, why don't they look surprised?
"You guys knew about it?" He asks, a little louder than his usual voice and the boys exchange a look. "Woah, thanks for the heads up"
He shouldn't be mad at them, it's not their fault, but he's already too mad at himself so he doesn't know where else to put the blame.
"It was not our place to tell you", Chan says.
"Does everyone know?", Han asks and Changbin nods, "so I was the only one? Am I dumb or something?"
Chan sighs, "it's not really your fault for not knowing, you probably are used to the way Y/N looks and talks to you because you're best friends since you were children, but to the people outside it is pretty clear from the get go that she likes you"
"But where did she go? Are you not friends anymore?", Changbin asks the difficult questions and Chan glares at him.
"She said she will be staying with Seungmin till he finds a roommate and then she's going to come back"
"She probably just needs some time", Chan says, putting a hand on Han's shoulder trying to reassure him, and he really hopes that's the case.
>><<
You've been texting Heeseung for a few days now and he's pretty nice, he's a dance major and works part time at the cafe to pay for living expenses the same as you do with tutoring.
Hannah had convinced you to go to Yunho's party and get wasted, saying you need the college life experience the most now that you had your first heartbreak but you don't want to think about that, you want to forget that you ever loved Han Jisung.
So you drink a whole bottle of wine before leaving for the party, Seungmin's coming with you and Hannah will meet you there. You are looking good, or maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel good, your hair is down, you're wearing a black lace cropped top you borrowed from Hannah, with a much lower neckline than you are used to, high waisted jeans and black boots.
The party is already crowded when you and Seungmin get there and it's really a fancy place like Hannah told you.
"Let's grab a drink", you yell to Seungmin.
"You should drink water, you're already drunk", he demands and you show your tongue to him.
"Nooooo, don't be a killjoy"
He sighs, it's hard to convince you of something when you're sober, it's even harder when you're drunk.
"You can have a drink after you drink a cup of water", he tells you and you nod, sounds like a win win for you.
After drinking a whole cup of water you show it to him, waiting for a praise and Seungmin rolls his eyes. What are you, a 10 year old?
"Good job, now you can drink", he gives you a cup with something mixed in it, "but you have to drink some water for each drink you take, okay?"
"Okay, dad", you joke, sipping your drink.
Seungmin knows a lot of people at the party and you feel left out every time someone approaches him so you're really happy when Hannah shows up, with a much taller boy accompanying her.
"Look who I found", she says pointing at him.
"Heeseung?", you scream, startling Seungmin who's close to you.
"Jesus, Y/N, calm down", he says putting his hand over his ear, "I'm a singer, I can't lose my hearing", he says and you pout, whining an apology even though you know he's not really mad.
"I didn't know you were gonna be here", Heeseung gets closer to you, side eyeing Seungmin.
"I didn't want to come, Hannah made me", you tell him, "this is Seungmin, he's my friend"
He nods at the boy by your side, relaxing to hear you call Seungmin a friend.
"Hey, Minnie, let's go dance?", Hannah says and Seungmin narrows his eyes suspiciously.
"I don't dance", he answers, crossing his arms and she sighs.
"For fucking sake, just come with me", she says and Seungmin follows her without more questions, he knows too well not to mess with her when she gets angry.
"You look really pretty", Heeseung says, bending a little to lessen the difference in your height. You blush even though it's not as good hearing him saying that as it was when Han complimented you, but you're trying to get over that, aren't you?
"Thanks, you look hot too", you hiccup, you don't have a filter when you're drunk. He smiles, turning around on the table and pouring you a cup of water.
"Drink this, it's going to help", he hands it to you.
"Thank you, you're so sweet and handsome", you yell again but he doesn't flinch like Seungmin did.
"You can't keep saying these kinds of things and not want me to kiss you", he says and you smile, sly.
"Who says I don't want that?", the moment he comprehends what you just said his face reddens, and he thought he was being bold.
"Once you sober up we can talk about that", he tells you and you pout. You wanted to kiss him now, maybe if you did all the hurt you were feeling would go away. Maybe you just needed someone to make you forget about Jisung.
"But I want it now", you cross your arms, behaving like a child that didn't get their way.
"Do you like dancing?", he changes the subject. Your face brightens with his question.
"I LOVE dancing", you show him the choreography to queencard that's playing on the dance floor and he laughs at your messy steps, he's sure you're much better at it while sober.
"Then drink this and let's dance", he hands you another cup of water.
"Seungmin told me I could have a drink after a cup of water, but this makes two cups of water and no drink", you point out and Heeseung can't help but find the drunk you really cute.
"This water will help you so you won't have a bad hangover tomorrow", he says and you nod, that's a good point.
Super by seventeen starts playing and you finish downing the water, grabbing Heeseung's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.
Being a dance major, of course he knows the steps and he's so good there are moments you just stop and watch him in a daze. Actually, he knows the steps to every song playing after that too, you dance so much you're all sweaty and your legs are tired. You're totally sober now, feeling ecstatic. It's so good being at a party having so much fun.
You're jumping and smiling until you see him.
You stop in your tracks seeing Han Jisung staring at you from the other side of the dance floor, your smile fades away as soon as your eyes lock with his.
He looks sick, he lost a lot of weight considering the short period of time you haven't seen each other and he wasn't smiling like he always did. He takes a step in your direction and you automatically step away, your stomach sinking.
You're feeling your heart beat so fast it's overlapping with the loud music, you gulp feeling your legs weaken, why the hell are you having this reaction? He's the same Han Jisung you've known since you were a child, the only difference now is that he knows how you feel about him.
You can't avoid him until you get over your feelings, that won't work and you know it, you have to get used to being near him feeling nothing other than friendship, but you can't see him at that moment, you just can't. You're having fun, there's a handsome guy with you and you want to like him and not Jisung.
You grab Heeseung's hand and pull him away from the dance floor, walking outside so you can breathe some fresh air.
"Did something happen?", he asks, looking confused and worried.
"It just felt stiff in there for a moment", you say and he nods.
You didn't want to explain to him why you were not speaking to your best friend and how messed up your relationship with Han is right now. You want to forget about it and your way of doing it is right by your side, handsome and available.
"So, about that thing you said we could do once I sobered up… I'm sober now", you say and he blushes, analyzing you for a moment to see if you are telling the truth.
The last drink you took was more than an hour ago and you drank so much water after that, it's a miracle you still don't have to use the toilet.
"I don't want to do something you'll regret later", he says and you appreciate how considerate he is. But right now you don't want someone considerate, you want someone that'll sweep you off your feet and help you forget what you so desperately want to. So you get closer, caging him against the wall and tiptoeing, trying to get closer to his face.
"If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you're holding back because you think I'm drunk, I'm not", that was his cue to kiss you. His lips crashing sloppily onto yours, hands cupping your face then moving down to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck trying to get closer than you already are. He's good, you've kissed enough people in your life to know that, yet you feel sick.
You feel bad and like a horrible person because you just know he can't compare to Jisung even though you never kissed your best friend.
You feel bad thinking about someone else while kissing Heeseung, he's so nice and sweet and you know he's not fooling around, if you give him the chance he's going to truly like you and you're only using him.
You step away sighing, seeing his brows furrowed and the confusion in his eyes.
"Was it that bad?", he jokes but you can see he's feeling hurt. "I'm not trying to brag, but I never got a reaction like that after a kiss"
You smile apologetically, looking for words to explain yourself.
"It was great and you're great", you begin, "I think you're too sweet, that's why I can't lead you on"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, even more confused.
"I'm in love with someone else and I know it sounds awful, I did try to get over him with you but I feel like you'll really like me if we don't stop right now and I'm not sure if I'll be able to be that person for you", you look at him, seeing the disappointment in his face. "I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person and you can hate me if you want"
He stares at you for a few moments, sighing and giving you a reassuring smile after.
"I don't think you're terrible, I think you're truly brave for coming clean like that", you're relieved, you were afraid he would say something mean and even though you feel like you deserve it, you're really fragile right now. "Thank you for telling me before I got too deep into this and I don't know, maybe we can be friends?"
"Absolutely, I would love that"
"So, do you want to go back inside?", he asks and you shake your head.
"I don't think so, I should probably go home", you say, you don't want to go back there to see Han again.
"Do you want me to take you home?"
"It's okay, I'm going to text Seungmin and see where he's at but you can go inside, I'm going to stay here and get some more fresh air"
"Alright, I'll see you at the cafe"
You nod, seeing him walk away. Woah, you just let that masterpiece of a man go because you can't forget about a fucking unrequited love. You curse yourself, slapping your forehead.
After that, you text Seungmin telling where you are and asking where the hell he and Hannah went, sending the same message to her and waiting for their answer.
You sit on the grass, taking a deep breath. You feel a bit sick after seeing Jisung, you never thought you'd feel that way. Never in your worst nightmares did you think you would be afraid to talk to him, maybe you're scared of talking to him and feeling nothing, what if all of this was just in your head and you just needed some time apart to figure it out?
You hear steps close to you and pray it's not some horny couple trying to fuck near you, however, the moment you lay eyes on your best friend you actually wish it was a horny couple.
You get up in a jump, your stomach sinking and your head spinning. Why does it hurt so much suddenly? It feels like your chest is being torn apart and you can't do a thing to make it better.
Jisung looks worse up close, he has huge bags under his eyes and he's too pale.
You're worried about him, even though you can't have the luxury of that. Not when your insides are all messed up and you want to throw up. You walk past him without saying a word, you can't handle this right now, but he grabs your wrist holding you in place. You don't look at him, staring at the floor trying to get out of his grip.
"I miss you", he says and your heart drops to your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? It's not like being apart from your best friend is fun to you. "Can't you look at me?", he pleads but you can't find the courage to do that yet. "Please", but he sounds so desperate, you force yourself to do it.
You look at him, he's obviously drunk. Who the hell let him drink this much?
"What is it?", you sound more spiteful than you were planning and his eyes widen, releasing your arm from his grasp.
"Do you hate me now?", he asks and you sigh.
"Of course I don't hate you, you're my best friend", you say that but for some reason it doesn't feel right, it doesn't sound like the truth.
"Can't you come back home? I feel like shit everytime I wake up and you're not there"
"I told you I need time", you say, running your hands through your hair.
"Are you going to forget about me by fucking some random dude?", he asks and you glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"I don't understand how that's any of your business"
"It is, because you told me you love me but you act like you never want to see my face again", he scoffs.
You feel mad, what's he trying to say? Should you keep hurting just because you love him?
"I can't sit around forever, waiting for you to look at me", you say and he steps closer to you.
"I'm looking at you right now, I- I'll be good to you, I'll like you back", the moment he finishes saying that, you can't control the tears running through your eyes.
Is that supposed to be good? He would be forced to date you so he could have you close to him?
"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask and he takes a step back startled with you tears, suddenly sobering up, "it's not easy for me to be away from you, you're my best friend, but I do have some bit of dignity left in me and I won't accept less than I deserve, even if that less is the man I love with me", you wipe your tears seeing him step closer, trying to reach your hand and you step away, "don't come close to me right now, I could never stay with you knowing you don't love me, you should know that"
You turn around trying to get away from him but stop on your tracks seeing Hannah, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin right there looking at you awkwardly. Of course, the humiliation is the cherry on the top. You pass through them feeling so embarrassed you want the earth to swallow you.
The ride home is awkward and silent. Hannah and Seungmin keep exchanging looks while you look out the window trying to figure how your life became this mess.
You really should have dated Jeongho when he asked you out in middle school, it was around that time that you realized you liked Han more than just a friend—when Haneul asked to be his date to the school festival and you wanted to punch her so hard. Maybe if you had dated that boy at that time you would have forgotten the feelings you had for your friend, maybe you would have brushed it off as some childhood crush, but no, you rejected Jeongho while Han went with Haneul to the school festival and you third wheeled the whole event earning nasty glances from her every time your best friend played two times the same game so he could win you a plush too.
Back then you still thought everything would be okay, if only you had him everything would be okay.
You start bawling without notice, crying so much you can't even breathe. Seungmin stops the car and Hannah gets to the back, hugging you and caressing your hair while whispering that everything will be fine and you really want to believe her.
You don't know how you got into Seungmin's apartment, you guess he carried you inside after dropping Hannah home but you're not sure. It's sunday so he's not up yet for you to ask and it doesn't actually matter, what matters is the absolutely pathetic scene you made at the party and in the car. You want to bury yourself into a hole and never come back, how the hell are you going to face your friends after they saw you being humiliated by Han like that?
You know he was drunk, of course he was. You know he didn't mean it, he was hurt and drunk and people act on feelings not reason when they are like that. But does he think you have no pride? Does he really think you would date him knowing he doesn't like you back?
It's different when you confessed to him, you knew he didn't like you that way. But if he told you that there was something there, that he was not going to promise you anything but someday he may like you back, that's all you needed to hear. However, that didn't happen. He told you with all the words that he doesn't like that way, that he doesn't feel the same way as you do, there was no room for interpretation, no room for what if's.
You get up, in need to distract yourself. This week is going to fly by, you have tutoring lessons using up all your free time so you just have to get through the day.
There are a lot of messages on your phone, you really don't want to read them because you know that other than Hannah's, it's awkward comforting words from your other friends.
Hannah: call me when you wake up
Hannah: let's go eat something delicious, what do you think? It's on me.
Hannah: are you still not up or are you ignoring me?
You: I just woke up, calm down girl
You: why would I ignore you though? I just have to brush my teeth and eat something then I'll call you.
Binnie: morning babes
Binnie: Hannie is such an asshole
Binnie: I'll date you if you want, you're hot it's a win win for me
You chuckle to Changbin texts, he's so sweet in the weirdest way.
You: I mean, you're hot too
You: I think we'd make an awesome couple
Chan: good morning, Y/N
Chan: we didn't hear anything last night, so please, don't be awkward or embarrassed around us.
You: good morning Channie, I know you heard
You: you should have matched your story with Changbin before texting me though
You: it's okay, alright? Of course I'll be embarrassed for the time being, but we're friends I won't be embarrassed forever.
You leave your phone on the couch and go to the bathroom. You look like shit, smeared makeup, hair disgusting and you're still wearing the same clothes. You turn on the hot water, taking your clothes off and entering the shower, the warmth embracing you as you feel more relaxed.
You put on something comfortable, it's Sunday, you're going to ask Hannah to come by and you're going to order takeout.
You call her number while eating because you know she's anxious.
"Hey babes, good morning", she picks up, cheerful as always.
"Good morning", you say, biting the toast you just made.
"So, what about going out and eating something really good?", she asks.
"Hm, I'm actually not in the mood to go out? Can't you come by, we order something and watch that movie you've been bugging me for the last month?"
"Yeah, sure. We can do that", she answers and you are happy she doesn't sound upset or disappointed. With all the shit you're pulling lately you're scared your friends are going to get tired of your bullshit and stop talking to you. You used to think no one wanted a friend that's always crying and whining, but they showed you that real friends help each other.
"So what time are you gonna come?"
"I will just take a shower and wait for the bus, so in maybe like an hour?", she guesses and you nod forgetting she can't see you.
"Okay, see you then"
You decide to clean the house while waiting, Seungmin is pretty organized and clean so there's nothing too difficult. You'll just wash the dishes and vacuum a little.
Hannah arrives later than she predicted, Seungmin is already up and cleaning his room. He scolded you because it's his day to do the dishes and you shouldn't have done it because it's not fair to you.
You think he's being extra nice to you because of what happened the night before and it's true, he was really scared when you cried in his car.
He has known you for almost five years and he never saw you cry like that, even on the night you came to his house after confessing to Han you didn't cry like that. This time was different, you had a soul crushing cry, he wanted to stop the car and go to the back to hug you the same as Hannah, but he knew you were already being comforted by the perfect person.
Han is his friend, he could never choose between you two. But he couldn't deny it, that was a dick move, how could he ever say that to someone that likes him? He basically told you that he could pretend to like you if you stayed with him.
And of course, Seungmin understands the fear of losing a friend, but doing what he did just increases the chances of you never wanting to see his face again.
You are seated on the couch, watching the movie Hannah is obsessed with at the moment. She already watched it five times alone and asks anyone she can find to watch it again with her, she even repeats some sentences together with the characters.
The pizza you ordered is almost gone, you didn't know you were so hungry until the smell hit your nose. Luckily or thanks to Seungmin and Heeseung, your hangover is not that bad and you want it to stay that way so you keep drinking lots of water.
You got through the day thanks to your friends, they kept you entertained the whole time so you wouldn't overthink or even think about Han.
You are doing that just now, looking at the ceiling in the dark room. You want it all to be a dream, maybe you would wake up tomorrow and still be in middle school, you'd take the opportunity and get over him at that time, that would have spared you of some big problems.
----------------
A/N: So, I don't know how many parts this fic will have. If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing.
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
I’d love to see you write James and reader who’ve suffered the ‘never the right time’ trope, and finally, it’s the right time. It’s like so soft and just a moment of peace, like ‘finally, finally, it’s our time’. I have literally no ideas further than that, but I know you’d kill this Mae <3
hope you’re having a lovely day!
Thanks for requesting my love! Also, is that a new theme I see?? It's giving me renaissance vibes, like the clouds are going to part and there'll be an oracle and it'll be you ! I'm so here for it
cw: alcohol
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words
Sirius and Remus keep fighting over who gets to play the music. Sirius more pointedly, tracking Remus down every time he has to change the record, whereas Remus just sneaks over while his boyfriend is occupied to switch it out again. Now Fleetwood Mac’s come on, and James can only assume Lily has finally stationed herself by the record player. 
A knock sounds at the door. Someone must have ordered pizza, he thinks. Anyone who goes to these things knows that Sirius always leaves the door unlocked. Being the closest to the door, James answers it. 
He thinks he stops breathing when he finds you on the other side, clutching a dissolving paper bag in both hands and nearly wet through. 
“Oh.” You look as surprised to see James as he is to see you. Which doesn’t seem strictly fair, because the last time he checked, he spends practically all of his time here and you live far away. Have since you took that cushy job right after school ended. “Hi, James.” 
“Hi.” His voice is mystified, tinged with the joy of the smile he can’t repress. “What’re you doing here, sweetheart?” 
“Remus invited me.” 
James stares at you. You look somehow exactly the same and yet impossibly more beautiful than he remembers. It’s odd seeing you out of your old school uniform, in a very adult-like coat that comes down to your knees and ties primly at the waist. Your hair is slicked straight by the rain, stuck in damp tendrils to your shoulders, and he swears your face has changed, too, a droplet of rainwater curving over a cheekbone he doesn’t remember being as visible when you were younger. 
“Um, can I come in?” 
“Yes! Yeah.” He steps out of the doorway, and your shoes squelch slightly as you wipe them off on the rug inside the door. James looks around as if for help. He thinks he spots Remus’ head poking out of the kitchen, but then it disappears. “Here, let me take your coat.” 
“Thanks.” You undo the tie for yourself, letting James pull it off your arms. “It’s really good to see you.” 
“You too.” He’s beaming; he can’t stop. “God, I just can’t believe you’re here. Are you in town for a visit?” 
“No, I—” You pause to give him a bemused sort of smile. “Did Remus not tell you? I moved back.” 
James feels like his chest has been hollowed out. Like someone’s taken out his heart and put the sun back in its place. 
“Really?” It comes out more breath than word. He fumbles for his voice back. “You’re back for good?” You nod, biting down on a smile. “When did you get here?” 
“A couple weeks ago,” you say, looking down to step out of your shoes. 
“What?” James’ tone is doing nothing to disguise his astonishment. He’s in no state to try and conceal it. “And we’re not hearing from you until now? You’ve only spoken to Remus?” His hurt goes unvoiced: Why didn’t you come find me?
You look sheepish. “I just ran into him at the store yesterday.” 
“Why didn’t you call?” 
“I didn’t want to assume…” 
You look like you’re trying to shrink away, but James gives chase, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. The cold of your clothes and hair sinks into him, and you both shiver. He only holds you tighter for it, scrubbing a hand up and down your shoulder blade. 
“You should have called,” he says next to your ear. “You know we’ll always want you here, love. We’ve missed you.” I’ve missed you. 
“I missed you guys, too,” you reply, squeezing him back. The paper bag you’re holding digs into his spine. 
James gives himself a couple more seconds before he releases you, taking the bag and unearthing a bottle of wine. 
“Nice of you,” he acknowledges. “Sirius will appreciate it, he loves reds. We should get you warmed up, yeah? Do you want some of this, or I could make you a hot buttered rum?”
You look like you could melt in relief. “A hot drink sounds amazing.” 
“Great.” He grins at you, knowing you have to go but unwilling to let you. If you leave his sight now you might very well disappear for another several years. After a second, his better sense wins and he juts a chin towards the stairs. “Go find something to wear. It’s the last door on the left, and the closet across from the bed should have things that’ll fit you.” 
James sees your protests in your face before they start spewing from your mouth. “Oh, I shouldn’t���” 
“If you go into the kitchen all dripping wet, Remus will only bring you up there himself. Save yourself the time, love. He’d want you to help yourself, trust me.” 
You chew your lip, hesitant, but then another shiver takes you, and James gives you a good-natured shove towards the stairs. 
“Alright,” you capitulate, going. “Thanks, I’ll be right back.” 
“No hurry,” he calls up after you. Then high-tails it for the kitchen. 
“I cannot believe you’ve set me up for ambush like this,” he says as the door swings open for him. His two closest friends look up with expressions of equal guilelessness, though Sirius is putting on far more a show of surprise than his boyfriend. 
“I had no idea!” He insists while James stalks to the cabinet, helping himself to a mug and the supplies to make your drink. “Moony kept it from me, you know I’d have told you if I knew.” 
James glances up at him, then shakes his head, reaching over to flick the kettle on. “No, I don’t believe it. You’ve both been colluding against me.” 
“It’s only against you if it’s not good for you,” says Remus. “And I don’t see how y/n being here is all that bad for you.”  
“Yeah, I’d have thought you’d be fairly chuffed about it,” Sirius agrees, forgoing the innocent act as smirk curves his lips. 
“I am.” James blows out a breath. “I just wasn’t expecting to see her. I didn’t even know she’d moved back.” 
Remus shrugs, cracking open the oven to check on something inside. “Well, I think she might have been afraid to seek you out.” 
“Why would she be?” 
Amber eyes meet James’ with disbelief written all over them. “You know why,” he says softly. 
The kettle finishes boiling, and James turns to pour it over the contents of your mug. “Well, I directed her to Sirius’ closet as retribution.” 
He hears a gasp behind him. “You prick—”
The door to the kitchen swishes open, and you breeze in wearing one of Sirius’ hoodies. 
“Sirius!” 
“Hi!” He’s all smiles as he folds you into a hug, glaring sharply at James over your shoulder. “Fuck, haven’t you become stunning? It’s been awhile, gorgeous.” 
“It has,” you agree, looking slightly flustered by Sirius’ complimenting. Which, James notes, is an improvement over your school days; you were never able to weather it then. “It’s so good to see you.” 
You go to Remus next, and he wraps an arm around your shoulders fondly. “Glad you could come,” he says. 
“Thanks for having me.” Your eyes move between the three of them, seeming to note their placement throughout the kitchen. “Sorry, were you all busy talking about something?” 
“Actually,” Sirius says, “Remus and I were just canoodling when James interrupted, quite rudely I think. If you’re going to join the party, please take him with you.” 
“Alright.” James takes your drink and grabs a cider for himself, nudging you towards the door. “No need to be a dick, just come find us later.” 
Sirius winks at you both as James ushers you out, Remus sending him a long-suffering look from by the oven. 
“Nice to know some things don’t change,” you laugh, finding a space on the couch for you both. 
“Yeah,” James sets your drink down in front of you, “I doubt those two ever will.” 
“Thanks. Ooh, this is nice.” You take the clear mug between your hands, lifting it up to admire the liquid inside. “When did Remus get so posh?” 
“Well, Sirius lives here now.” 
“Oh!” Your eyes widen, surprise and maybe a little of something else. “Wow, that’s so lovely for them. Then, is this Sirius’ sweatshirt I’m wearing?” 
James chuckles. “You could tell, huh?” 
“None of those looked like Remus’ clothes. Are we punishing him for something?” 
He raises his own drink to his lips, hiding his smile. They’ve always come especially easily around you. “Perhaps.” 
You hum, take a sip from your mug, and hum again. “Shit, this is really good. Thank you.” 
The praise settles comfortably in James’ stomach, as warm and mind-fuzzing as if he’s had a gulp of your drink himself. “Anytime, sweetheart.” 
This time, he notices your eyes flicker away from his at the endearment. “So,” you say conversationally, “how’s Lily?” 
Ouch. James glances behind you to where Lily has pulled a chair over near the record player. She’s sipping from a glass of red wine that’s only a couple of shades darker than her hair, smiling at something Pandora’s saying. 
“She’s good,” he says. Then, somewhat abruptly, “We’re not together anymore.” 
Your eyes flit to his, something almost like guilt twinging across your features. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” you say. The caring in your face is nearly too much; James wants to take it between his hands and kiss it all over. “Are you okay?” 
He gives you a smile. “Yeah,” he says sincerely. Perhaps with too much feeling, because your eyebrows bunch slightly. “It happened a long time ago. Not long after you left, actually.” 
“Oh.” You nod, and James finds himself watching you more carefully than he normally might. He waits for the sense of bliss he’s feeling to find its way into your expression, but you still appear hesitant. “Can I ask if something happened? You just, you were together for so long…”
It’s true. Most people they knew, even Remus and Sirius, thought Lily and James would be married someday. In the end, it just seemed that they’d been together for so long that their relationship had become a routine instead of a choice. They were cohabitors more than partners, and when they were doing everything they could to spend time away from their shared home, Lily had been the only one brave enough to call them both out on it. 
“We just wanted different things,” James says. Namely, Lily wanted Mary and James wanted you. Had for too many years. 
You make a soft sound. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 
“Yeah,” he agrees. “So, come on—you’ve had my update, let’s have yours. How did you like your job?” 
You pair your shrug with a small smile. “Not very well, honestly. I don’t think I really fit there.” James tsks sorrily, and you shrug again. “It’s just as well. I missed you all too much. I wanted to give it a try there and I did, but I’m glad to be back.” 
“Ah, well,” James says. “I suppose that’s how it goes, isn’t it?” 
It’s a terrible joke, but you laugh, the sound like water trickling over stone. He feels the smile spread on his face. 
“I really have missed you,” he says, earnestness aching in the back of his throat. 
A similar sentiment reflects back at him in your eyes. “Same here.” 
“I’m glad you’re here.” 
“I’m glad I am, too.” 
“Would you want to get coffee tomorrow?” With anyone else the invitation would seem abrupt, but your smile looks something like relief. You’ve both been waiting for this for too long. 
“That sounds nice,” you say. 
“Great.” James can hear the love in his own voice. It’s probably written all over his face, too. Just as well. “There’s a new cafe by my place that has really good almond croissants, would you want to meet there?” 
You nod, not trying to downplay your happiness. His heart swells to see it. “I love almond croissants,” you say. 
James remembers. It’s one of the things he’s glad to know about you. There was a small, censured part of him that took satisfaction in knowing those things even when he was with Lily. It’s not something he’s ever been proud of, but a spark of that satisfaction comes back now. 
“Perfect,” he replies. Behind you, Remus is letting Sirius pull him out of the kitchen. Remus folds himself into an unoccupied chair, where Sirius happily sprawls across his lap. They’re both pretending not to be watching you. “How’s one?” 
“Not soon enough,” you say without hesitation. You take another sip of your drink, miming unconcern, but your eyes are playful. “Ten?” 
James feels like his face could split in half. “Ten it is.” 
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imfinereallyy · 29 days
Text
I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1 pt. 3
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso
(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)
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theotherbuckley · 20 days
Text
Just some Bucktommy headcanons <3
- Buck always struggles to hide his surprise every time Tommy goes out of his way to turn up for him because he’s not used to someone actually showing up for him. Tommy sets out to always prove him wrong.
- Tommy was completely prepared for Buck to be a baby gay (inclusive) and still chokes every time Buck is super flirty, not that he’s complaining.
- After bad shifts they both take care of each other and help each other wash off and then cuddle together.
- The first time Tommy sees Buck with Jee he damn near has a heart attack. Buck sees him and gets worried but Tommy just tells him he’s adorable and Buck blushes.
- Buck gets butterflies and blushes so hard every single time Tommy calls him cute or adorable or anything like that because he’s not used to being perceived in that way and he loves it.
- Every single time Buck sees a helicopter he sends a pic to Tommy asking if it’s him. This leads to Tommy sending Buck photos of random doggos and asking if it’s Buck.
- Buck can’t shut up about his how his boyfriend is a pilot and will tell anyone who will listen.
- Buck loves how Tommy calls him Evan it makes his heart skip a beat. One day Tommy asks him about it because everyone else calls him Buck and should he? And Buck ducks his head and says “I like the way you say it.”
- They have a vulnerable discussion and Buck tells Tommy about Daniel and growing up constantly getting hurt and Tommy shares his rough childhood with his parents divorce and feeling like nobody was in his corner. Tommy vows never to let Buck think he’s worth anything less than everything and Buck makes sure Tommy knows that hes got him has a steady figure. He invites Tommy to all the 118 gatherings to make sure he knows that he has them too.
- At one of the gatherings Bobby takes Tommy aside and he thinks he’s getting the shovel talk but Bobby just hugs him and welcomes him to the family. Tommy has to wipe his eyes before going back out to the gathering.
- Tommy talks to Hen privately and profusely apologises for his behaviour at the 118 which leads to them both in tears by the end of it. Hen promises to give him a Christmas card every year and Tommy laughs.
- The first time bucktommy has a fight it’s over something trivial, Tommy leaves to get some fresh air and returns an hour or so later to find Buck crying. Buck looks shocked that he came back. Tommy tells him he will always come back and vows to communicate more clearly with Buck.
- Buck always talks about wanting to get a dog and Tommy just shakes his head and laughs. One day Tommy comes home covered in soot with a small golden retriever puppy that he saved in his arms and tells Buck he couldn’t let go of him. They name him Leo. Chris becomes obsessed with him and begs Eddie to get a dog too. Instead Carla takes Chris over after school to see Leo and feed him when Buck and Tommy can’t. Leo loves Chris and always barks when he leaves.
- Buck teaches Tommy how to dance because he never learnt. Buck tells him how he learnt for Maddie.
- When Buck gets hurt on a call Tommy won’t leave his side. He asks Eddie how he did it when Buck actually died and Eddie shakes his head and said he didn’t. Eddie takes Tommy home and forces him to shower and eat. Eddie, Chris, and Tommy sit together talking about Buck until they get the message that Bucks okay.
- When Eddie gets hurt on a call Buck is beside himself. Buck tells Tommy about the will. Buck tells Chris his dad is hurt again and Tommy holds Buck when he breaks down afterwards remembering the shooting.
- The first time they go further than making out Buck tells Tommy he loves his tits and then blushes and apologises. Tommy just chuckles and tells Buck he loves his tits too.
- Buck comes in with a limp one day and turns red when they ask him to explain. Hen keeps laughing at him but Chimney is so confused and keeps asking about it. Buck breaks and tells him. Chim can’t look Tommy in the eye at the next BBQ
- When they get married Tommy says how grateful he is to have an ally like Buck in his life.
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