#I had to clear so much music off here you don’t want to know
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Gallavich Masquerade 2024
I had a Very Stressful Week last week and it was such a lovely surprise to wake up to a bunch of sweet comments on the weekend, I had quite forgotten that it was time for reveals! 6 days of recovery from the Stress Week later, here’s a little post about:
or the foreseeable future
I hadn’t planned to join the festivities, but realised last minute that I could use the first chapter of a longer fic I had abandoned and post that, so I rewrote the ending of the chapter and then cobbled together a genius disguise consisting of:
1- changing the tense to past tense (how do you do it? I only had to change the tense, I didn’t have to write it, and it nearly broke my brain)
2- gave it an all-lowercase title
Did I fool anyone? Did I? Many thanks to @gallavichthings for organising, and good job on everyone dressing up and everyone guessing <3
Here is the 0,2 of chapter 2 I’d also written before losing steam:
“Hey! Look at me!” someone yells over the music, booming out through the open windows, followed by a crash and effusive cheers from inside the house.
Mickey sinks down in the plush cushions of the loveseat hammock and rocks his heels against the porch floorboards, something squeaking as the seat slowly starts swinging.
It’s getting late and he’s feeling the long day out in the sun catching up to him. Getting home to some peace and quiet sounds like a dream right about now. Holding up his beer to inspect it against the multicolored string lights hung around the porch, he finds it half full. He’ll finish it and then find Kayla to make his excuses and then go home. He’s kept his schedule clear tomorrow in case he finds himself hungover, or in someone else’s bed and unwilling to leave it, but an early night sounds just as good.
“Right, I’m leaving now.”
Mickey stills his foot on instinct and the hammock stops swinging and squeaking as the silhouette of someone moves out through the brightly lit rectangle of the wide open front door.
“Wait,” someone sighs and comes out after, and the two of them stop in the shadows by the porch steps, the first guy out getting stopped and turned around by a hand on his shoulder. “Just–, wait.”
“For what, Ian?” Freezing still, Mickey tries his best to sink into the cushion and disappear, and also hear everything. “For you to catch up with the fact that we’ve been together for over six months and somehow that doesn’t mean anything to you?”
“Come on,” Ian says, “I said I’m sorry, ‘a couple of months’ is just a turn of phrase.”
“A turn of phrase which indicates two, Ian! Two months! Four less than six! Don’t minimize my feelings about this!”
“Jesse–”
“No, you know what? My eyes are wide open. I’m done. I’m leaving.”
The shadowy shape of Jesse walks down the steps and out on the street, before he does a full turn and strides back, stomping determinedly back up the stairs and into Ian’s space. The hammock lets out a small apprehensive squeak as Mickey is led by his left ear to lean closer.
“Actually no, I’m going to say this!” he yells, and from where Mickey sits it looks like he’s poking Ian menacingly in the chest. “You! Are afraid! Of commitment!”
Suppressing the urge to scoff, Mickey frowns when it looks like Ian’s shoulders slump.
“And you’re hung up on some guy from High School! High School, Ian! Grow up!”
“I’m not–, I didn’t know he was going to be here–”
“I don’t care! He can be here if he wants to! I care about you turning into someone I don’t recognize just ‘cause some trash ex from fucking High School shows up!”
“Hey,” Ian says, his voice noticeably harder than before. “You know nothing about him.”
Jesse huffs out a humorless laugh.
“No, no I don’t. That’s the point, isn’t it? And I’m beginning to think I don’t know very much about you either.”
“It’s only been–”
“A couple of months, I know, thank you. So let’s just break it off now and not waste any more time.”
He flounces back down the stairs without waiting for a response, calling over his shoulder: “Good thing I didn’t invest a full half year into this or anything!”
The sounds of the party inside once again fill the silence left in Jesse’s wake, and for a minute Mickey simply looks at Ian, so still and wrapped in shadows that he’s starting to wonder if he’s imagined him. Then he turns and light falls on his face and reflects the shine of his eyes as they lock with Mickey��s.
He jerks back like Mickey had jumped out of nowhere and scared him, one hand honest to God clutching at his chest for a second before he squeezes his eyes closed, hands coming up to cover his face.
”Shit, Mickey,” he says, and drops his hands, “didn’t see you.”
“I know,” Mickey says, “kinda the point.”
”Enjoy the show?”
Mickey shrugs. “Depends. You want me to be honest or nice?”
Letting out a short laugh, Ian shakes his head.
”Uh-huh,” Mickey mutters, tearing his eyes off Ian to look out at the street. The hammock squeaks and creaks as he shifts over to make space next to him on the loveseat, a silent invitation.
“Sit down,” he says after a moment without Ian taking him up on it. “Let’s fucking–, catch up, or whatever. Haven’t seen you in over ten years, asshole, I’m sure you’ve got a ton of shit you wanna chat about.”
He resolutely doesn’t look, and probably holds his breath for the full minute it takes before Ian sits down next to him, the hammock shifting and complaining under his added weight.
”You, eh–,” Mickey starts, fingers picking at the label on his beer, mind blank. “You doin’ good?”
“Besides just getting dumped?” Ian snorts and shifts a little in his seat, shoulder brushing against Mickey’s. “Yeah, I’m doing pretty good. You?”
”Yeah, same,” Mickey says and then frowns at himself, “I mean, I haven’t been dumped in a while but I’m good. Things are good.”
”Good,” Ian says, sounding like he’s trying not to laugh. If that’s at Mickey’s expense or because he’s simply that thrilled by their titillating conversation, Mickey couldn’t possibly tell. Either way would be fine.
”You said you just moved back to Chicago?” Mickey tries to press on, turning his head to glance at Ian only to find him looking back, a small smile playing on his lips.
”Mh-hm, last year,” Ian says, raising an eyebrow. “When was the last time you got dumped?”
Mickey grins and looks away from him, takes a sip of his beer. How about ten years ago, asshole, and I’m still fucking bruised over it. Beat that!
“Not usually the one getting dumped,” he says instead, smiling against the lip of the beer bottle when Ian lets out a sarcastically impressed whistle. “Where were you?”
It doesn’t sound nearly as casual as he meant for it to sound, but whatever. Guess casual’s not really likely an option for any of this conversation.
”Before moving back?” Ian confirms, shifting a little in his seat. “Springfield, Clayton had a friend there who wanted him to move anyway, help him with his
Aaaand here is where I stopped writing, realising that I actually needed to think about when in the canon this story diverges from, and what Ian’s been doing for the last ten year, and I couldn’t think of anything lol
And here are my notes for the rest of the story:
Chicago pride parade is on 30th of june from 12 noon to 11 am on monday? Anyway, PARADE is at around 4 pm
Sunday 5:19 parade
Sunday evening at the house party 10:30
Monday morning at the club 12:01
Monday morning at the club lost / found 3 am
Monday morning on the rooftop 5:19 am sunrise
Monday morning 10 am - tylenol
12 hours??????????? I mean
that could be fun as hell
They both end up at a house party and Jesse leaves, and Mickey and Ian end up talking on a hammock on the porch
Some friends of Ian’s are moving on to a club called “wish” and they both join them.
They end up on the floor of the wardrobe at some point looking through the lost and found (maybe one of Ian’s friends lost something) they are also metaphorically lost and found
They end up on someone’s rooftop patio in the small hours of the morning, sitting squished together on an old sofa someone has dragged up there for the occasion. Ian’s arm is slung casually behind Mickey, tips of his fingers brushing against his back.
Rooftop “Hey, look at me”
Tylenol - Mickey wakes up alone, but then Ian walks in with a glass of water and some tylenol and gets back in bed.
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reorganized my desk to better fit my status as a world-weary but indefatigable sea captain instead of doing my readings in preparation for spending the whole weekend in the 18th century
#both ships had to have repairs and I finally just Did Them so now it’s time to display them#I had to clear so much music off here you don’t want to know#tbh I’m not sure what I’m going to do when I finish my 1:250 victory that thing is Large#not desk sized. she demands a Shelf#which I do not have at the moment#mine#shipposting#collegeposting
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Do I wanna know?
Summary: You and Drew are best friends, but you want more. What happens when you get invited to a day out on Drew’s friend’s yacht and get more?
Warnings: MDNI(18+), fem!reader, thigh riding, daddy kink, nicknames used (princess, baby, little lady, good girl…), kissing, alcohol (beer), swearing, no use of (y/n), reader wears a skirt, shy!reader, pining amongst friends, English is not my first language, if I forgot anything; please let me know!!
WC: ~2.4k (no idea how that happened)
A/N: I got inspired by this photo so I wrote this at like 2 am and I’m posting it now at 5 am, this is a mess, gn my loves (NOT PROOF READ, SORRY) (also this is my first fic about Drew so yeah)
When your best friend, Drew Starkey, invited you to a small get together on his friend’s yacht, you were more than willing to go. You and him had been friends since years, getting to know each other through mutual friends and suddenly you were eating take out with a b-list celebrity every other night.
You twirled around in front of your full body sized mirror, watching with amusement as your skirt twirls with you, the ruffles bouncing as they fluttered in the wind.
“Wow. Really doesn’t take much to get a smile on that pretty little face of yours, huh?” Drew chuckled as he watched you spin around.
Startled by his voice you stopped your little turns, looking at him with a small playful glare when the dizzy fog finally cleared from your vision.
“I’m just a happy person. You should try it sometime” you shot back, but you knew it was no use. Drew was great at talking, arguing, whatever. He was great with people in a way you just couldn’t figure out for yourself.
But honestly? You were fine just standing on the sidelines watching him do his thing, waiting for him to abandon that and come talk to you for a bit.
You had been fine with it.
Lately every time he laughed and grinned at one of your sarcastic comments and every time he stared at you like he was a theoretical physicist and you had the answers to string theory, you couldn’t help but want more. Couldn’t help but want that “best friend” status to be upgraded to “girlfriend”. Hell, you even dreamt of being called his wife.
For now though, you were just going to try and enjoy the day on a luxurious boat.
Soon you found yourselves in the car. You clicked on random songs on your phone and sand along to the “wait, this is the best part, shut up”’s before yet again changing the song as Drew drove to the harbour, admiring the way you seemed so enthralled by the different songs and music.
“Would love to continue listening to your big world tour concert, little lady, but we’re here,” he announced once he’d gotten the car carefully parked.
Excitedly, you jumped out of Drew’s car, watching as he did the same before you both made your way closer to the water where many ships floated atop the sea.
At the same time, you both spotted Drew’s group of friends, waving at them as they saw you two as well.
You’d gotten to know them a bit but the amount of group hangouts you attended, didn’t really allow you to form a strong bond to any of Drew’s friends.
What can you say?
You’re just not a people person.
You’re a person person.
A Drew person.
You squashed the ridiculous thought, giggling it off before you checked that your outfit was neatly in order.
Upon seeing you inspecting your clothes, Drew leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath tantalizingly brushed against your ear and neck as he spoke, “You look amazing, baby, don’t worry.”
As you reached the boat, the smile you had shared for a few enchanting seconds came to a sudden end.
“Hey, Drew!” Various different voices greeted the both of you and you both returned the favour with just as much enthusiasm.
One of the guys, the one whose yacht it was presumably, invited everyone aboard.
Your eyes flitted to everything around you, spotting a few seats, some complicated looking boat equipment and random day-to-day fun stuff lying around.
The smell of fish and sea breeze filled the air and your nostrils, but that scent quickly evaporated when Drew stepped next to you, finally finished with catching up with his friend and was now holding out a beer bottle for you to take. His cologne took over, overwhelming your senses. Something you were definitely not complaining about.
You accepted the beer from him, taking a sip before handing it back to him and watching as he repeated your action of drinking from the bottle.
Your gaze drifted to his Adam’s apple as it bobs when he took gulps of the alcoholic drink. He lowered the glass container from his lips, putting his strong bicep right in your line of sight.
As embarrassing as it is to admit you could have almost moaned from just looking at his muscly arm.
He must have taken off his shirt sometime between helping you up the steps on the side of the ship, his hand securely wrapped around your thigh to keep you from falling, and when he seemingly appeared behind you as you admired your surroundings.
Then your eyes found his chest, strong pecs priding over his abs that seemed carved from the very marble that Michelangelo had used to sculpt David, each muscle defined with an almost perfect precision to it.
Just before you could take a good look at his black swim shorts hanging off his hips and hugging his beefy thighs, his voice called your name.
“Hey, come on, picture time,” he reiterated what he had said when you were still zoned out.
“Oh. Okay,” Throwing your thoughts back into reality, you watched as everyone made their way over to the discussed upon place where the photo would be taken.
“Who wants to set the timer?” A girl, who you’d forgotten the name of, asked.
Something with an F? L? A? Who cares.
“Not it!” Was called by everyone but you, your face quickly morphing from a surprised look of “who the hell still uses ‘not it’?” to an accepting face that you were in fact “it”.
The girls and boys all took their places on the netting of the boat. The 5 people in front of you got ready to pose for the group photo.
Efficiently, you adjusted the tripod so that the camera of the phone pointed perfectly towards the centre of everyone.
You bent down, looking at the screen of the mobile. You saw Drew depicted by many pixels, your thighs clenching when he moved his hips up to readjust his position on the midnight blue blanket that lay sprawled over the rough nylon net.
Fuck, he was perfect.
Of course, you fixed your hair one last time before pressing the white button on the right side of the device, starting the 10 second countdown until the picture.
Swiftly, you made your way around the tripod, and plopped down onto the free space between a dark haired guy, you’ve come to know as Matthew, and Drew. You smiled sweetly at the round circles on the back of the phone as Drew slung an arm around your shoulders.
Once the photo was taken, everyone scattered and the usual chatter was back. You ran up to the phone and you looked at the image.
Well fuck.
Drew looked absolutely freaking ethereal.
His sitting in a reclined position with one leg bent and the other stretched out, manspreading, almost made you go feral. He was smiling widely toward the camera, his impossibly bright grin attracting all the attention in the photo.
His body looked like a dream. For a moment, you thought maybe you were dreaming, if you were you would hold onto the memory of the photo, even if it was just a dream, for the rest of your life.
God, pining for your hot best friend made you sound so so pathetic.
The thought that what you were experiencing was just a dream was snapped in two like a twig when Drew came up from behind you and flicked your bare back.
“Ouch!” You exclaimed, a frown forming on your face.
“‘M sorry, princess,” he swung his arms over your shoulders, holding on to you from behind like a koala would his mother, peering at the screen in your hands.
“Did it turn out good?” He asked casually, acting as if he didn’t see how your face was blushing an awfully deep shade of red and don’t even start to think that he missed the way you were obviously turned on.
“Yup,” you answered curtly, ducking down to be released of any physical contact with him, because you felt as if you would melt if he touched you a second longer.
“I’m um… gonna go below deck. The sun uh- it’s hitting me pretty hard right now. I have a headache,” you lied, coming up with some excuse to just get yourself somewhere where you can have your alone time.
“O…kay…” He didn’t seem convinced but that wasn’t for you to deal with in that moment. You made your way down the stairs leading below the deck of the ship, the room was nice and cozy.
With a sigh of relief you sat down on a wooden bench near the kitchen and slipped your phone out of your purse.
After a few minutes of mindlessly scrolling through various social media apps you heard footsteps nearing you, causing you to look up.
Your eyes met none other than Drew Starkey himself.
“On your phone when you have a headache? Really?” He asked unamused. “You lyin’ about the headache or you just stupid?”
“Stupid…?” you offered in a quiet meek voice.
“C’mon, sweetheart, what’s the problem, huh? You don’t like my friends or something?” He questioned as he sat himself down next to you on the oak plank.
“No, no, they’re great, I just…” You really should have been able to come up with something to say but the way his forearm was flexing as it rested on his thigh distracted you.
A smirk grew on Drew’s face. “No yeah, I uh-“ he chucked as he shook his head in what looked like slight disbelief, “I know.”
Unsure of the true meaning behind his comment you averted your eyes to the floor, focusing on the swaying of the boat on the water instead of Drew’s piercing blue eyes staring intently at you.
He leaned back with a sigh, his legs spreading wider and his arm sneaking behind your back and around your waist. “You’re kind of ridiculous, you know that?”
All you could do was nod which earned you yet another laugh from Drew.
Just as you were about to persuade yourself to actually speak, you were pulled onto Drew’s lap by his arm, his hands quickly settling you on his thighs.
“Wha-“
“I know, princess,” he cooed.
You know you should have felt at least slightly degraded or mad because of his tone but the only thing it did, was make you want to clench your thighs together. Which of course wasn’t possible because each of your legs rested on different sides of Drew.
“You look so pretty today, baby,” he said, tucking some loose strands of hair behind your ear before moving his face down to your neck and pressing soft, fleeting, sensational kisses to the side of your collar.
Your breathing became panted and you unintentionally slowly rubbed your core along the material of his pitch black swim trunks.
“Not even a thank you?” He murmured teasingly as his kisses walked over to the area right under your ear and his large hands gripped your hips harshly, stopping you from any further movement.
“Th- thank you…” You whispered, your tone dipped and coated in your lust and arousal.
You felt a small nip on your throat that made you let out a small “Ah-!”
“Thank you…?” He muttered expectantly.
“Sir?” You tried, getting your confirmation of that being the wrong answer when a more harsh bite was left just under your jawline.
“Daddy..” you practically moaned out, the small pleasure that you got from the bites making you rut against Drew’s strong hold on your body.
“Good girl…” he praised, his face finally coming up to meet yours, kissing you softly but also at the same time with an unforeseeable force.
His fingers stopped drilling into the skin over your hipbones, letting you push your aching core down onto his covered thigh.
He broke the kiss, his plump lips and hot breath trailing over your cheek as you both gasped from air.
His hand roughly grabbed the back of your head, wrapping his fingers around your messy hair, holding you tight against him.
Immediately after, his other hand took hold of your hip again, helping you grind down on his swim pants.
“That’s right, baby, use daddy’s leg,” he breathed out heavily.
“Such,” he pressed a sloppy kiss to your jawline, “a,” another kiss was placed on the corner of your mouth, “good,” he said before pecking your lips, “girl,” he murmured into your mouth before shoving his tongue down your throat.
The press of his thigh onto your bikini bottom made a perfect friction emerge against your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
“What about-“ you started.
“I locked the door, sweetheart, no worries.”
The way he basically read your mind made you feel even more turned on.
Your folds rubbed back and forth in your
soaking wet swim bottoms as you gripped Drew’s shoulders tightly, eyes squeezed shut as he continued to spew out praise after praise to you.
Suddenly a knock resounded throughout the room, a sudden halt coming to your despicable actions.
“Hello? Anyone in here? Why is the door locked?” A female voice asked from the other side of the door.
“One second!” Drew called before returning his attention to you.
“We’ll finish this later, yeah?” All you could do was nod, still completely dazed.
He picked you up off his lap, helping you settle back into a standing position and smoothing out both of your guys’ clothes.
With a casual smile on his face he unlocked and opened the door, spouting out some excuse for the door being locked before leading you upstairs with him.
For the rest of the afternoon, you sat, with a drink in hand, watching Drew talk amongst his friends, his eyes flicking to you every once in a short while.
Once other people started leaving and the sun started setting, he walked up to you.
“Ready to leave, princess?”
“Uh-huh,” you uttered out, standing up and saying your goodbyes to everyone that still found themselves on the yacht.
As you walked down the dock, admiring the sunset, you gripped onto Drew’s arm.
“Everything okay?” He asked.
You looked up at him with an “Are you serious?” face, annoyed at his nonchalant antics.
“Gee, sorry, okay?” He chuckled.
“I’ll make you feel good soon. Don’t worry, little lady.”
@emma-e-a
#drew starkey#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x female reader#rafe cameron#drew starkey fic#drew starkey smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader
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perfect practice
soobin x fem!reader
warnings: 🔞!! size kink, size training, sex toys, belly bulge, breeding kink, no protection, creampie, prob forgot some sorry
wc: 800
an: short drabble <33 feedback is appreciated! [m.list]
he always starts by sloppily eating you out. not caring how your wetness drips down his chin; the lewd sounds accompanying your moans. He will make sure to get you off once maybe even twice depending on if he can stop himself.
His main goal was always to get you as slick as possible to be able to take any toy he had gotten for you. As soon as you two started dating, Soobin had gotten a set of dildos, four different sizes starting at 5 inches and going to 8.
Maybe he had been presumptuous about you being open to the idea but as soon as he saw the clear silicone set he couldn’t stop himself from imagining slipping each one into you training you to take his cock.
and as much of a perv he was in theory he wasn’t as open with you about that side of himself until he was knuckles deep into feeling your walls flutter around his fingers when he brought it up. “I wanna fuck you I just don’t think you can handle me right now,” your whining at the implication of not being stuffed full of his cock was nearly enough to make him ditch the idea all together but he held strong. “I got you a little gift to practice with first,” your hips were already rolling on his fingers ready for another round.
soobin had pulled out the smallest dildo in the set showing it off to you before making you cum hard enough to see stars. it wasn’t until the next time that you realized what was happening and you had been punished on the six-inch dildo, begging soobin to fuck you. “Only two more baby, you can be patient,” he didn’t even know how he was resisting watching the way you were being stretched out was leaving him straining in his jeans ready to burst with the smallest touch.
when you were finally down to the last dildo all eight inches slipped into you after soobin had been attached to your clit without remorse leaving you slick enough to take anything he wanted to give you. “I’m a little thicker than this but I’m sure you can take me now huh?” but it’s no use talking to you at this point already cresting on your third orgasm. your back is arching as you cum but soobins pulling away the last dildo the rivulets of wetness still stuck to the silicone making him groan as he pulls himself from his jeans.
Even with the training you can tell the difference in the stretch, the remnants of your orgasm sucking him in deeper as your walls flutter around the girth of him. you swear you can feel him in your throat, every thick vein pulsing as he pushes into you. you’re absolutely brainless as he fills you, the only sound leaving you are moans you’ve never heard yourself make before.
“oh you feel so perfect, sucking me in, taking my cock so well. perfect fit- fuck-“ he can’t keep control of himself slipping in and out of you at a delicious pace made much better from all the prep, the squelching sounds filling the room. soobin takes your hand to place over your lower belly pressing down so that you can feel the bulge of his cock. your moans mix as you feel him hitting your gspot the added pressure making you feel every thrust down to your toes.
“you feel how deep I am? now that you can take me I’ll be here,” he grunts pressing your hand down on your pelvis, “almost every night pounding into you,” he presses his lips to your ear, “filling you up. perfect practice for when we’re ready to have a baby,” your sweet whines music to his ears as you scratch down his back, “you like that huh? you want my baby?”
you’re absolutely squeezing him at the idea making it hard to keep thrusting but he’s already twitching ready to shove his hips as close as he can to yours. “no more practice to take my cock but practice to take my load, keep it as long as you can inside you, as far as I can get it, over and over again,” he doesn’t even know what he's saying anymore blabbering as your legs start shaking, hips sinking back as you arch orgasm taking over you for the fourth time.
when he cums he stills right against your cervix the warmth filling you up as you cling to soobin pulling him as close as you can get him. Neither of you can form sentences for a while taking deep breaths to try and bring your minds back. “we will definitely have to do that again, you know what they say practice makes perfect,”
#soobin x reader#txt x reader#soobin#choi soobin#txt soobin#soobin txt#kpop smut#Yeonjun#beomgyu#taehyun#huening kai#soobin smut
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quiet - Chris Sturniolo
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fratboy!chris × jealous!reader
(dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more)
disclaimer: the following content is not suitable for an underage audience. please, if you are a minor do not interact in any way or form. thank you. check the trigger warning before reading, enjoy!
t.w: inappropriate language, unprotected sex (don't), a tiny bit of degrading language, jealousy, alcohol, I think nothing more.
a.n: soo...i'm impatient. i had planned to post this story on the 31st, once the poll ended, but i really don't like to wait that much. however, the results are clear: chris smut won with the 52.9%!
when you spot your boyfriend chris flirting with another girl at the Halloween party, you decide to take the matter in your hands and make him jealous thanks to matt. what you don't know, is that chris is keeping a close eye on you.
“i really don’t wanna go to this stupid party, nick.”
“i know, but you know what?” nick put his hands on my shoulders, a gentle yet firm grip. he looked at me in the eyes, then said “at least you look hot as fuck, and that’s all that matters. walk through those doors as if your pussy is made out of gold, and see what happens.”
i smiled at my best friend. with new-found confidence, i walked towards the doors, swaying my hips in my skimpy DCC cheerleaders white shorts that left nothing to the imagination. nick followed right through, adjusting the fake fangs in his mouth. he was one hell of a hot vampire.
as we entered the halloween-decorated fraternity of our college, we were immediately pulled aside by matt, who was waiting for us right at the entrance. blue and purple lights caressed his face, creating weird shadows all around.
“fuckin’ finally! what took you so long?”
“are your eyes actually open? don’t you see how hot we both look? good things are always the last to arrive.” i chuckled as nick pulled me in a side hug to prove a point to his brother.
i eyed matt up and down one last time. even in the weird colored lights, i noticed that something was off. “wait, why aren’t you dressed up?”
“cause i’m getting the fuck out of here, i was waiting for you two just because i don’t want to leave chris here under the influence without one of us to check on him.”
“he’s already drunk?”
“yeah, you surprised?”
i looked around, trying to find that dumb-fuck, with no luck.
“c’mon, let’s get the party started!” nick grabbed my hand, pushing through the crowd of sweaty and dressed up people to get us to the drinks.
“do you want to drink anything?” he screamed loud enough for me to understand him over the blasting music. i shook my head, still trying to find chris. i picked at my skin, worry eating me alive: where the fuck was he? he was drunk, what if he did something stupid, or worse, dangerous?
then, i spotted him: hidden in the corner of the room with some random girl, running his hand through his hair held back by the headband of his basketball player costume. she was talking about something, and i could see clearly the strand of blonde hair that he was playing with twirling in his hand as he leaned on the wall, with the cocky grin of someone who believes that he has the world at his feet.
i felt a wave of nausea hit me, hands shaking by my sides.
nick followed my gaze, spotting his brother. his hand stopped midway, the red cup never reaching his lips. “no way…” he whispered. weirdly enough, i heard that.
just as i was ready to leave everything and get the fuck out of there, nick stopped me.
“let me go, nick, i don’t want to spend another second here.”
“absolutely not.”
“nick, please.” tears pricked at my eyes, making it hard for me to keep them back.
“i can bet you a hundred bucks right now that he’s trying to work you up. two can play that stupid game, y/n, and you've got plenty of people who've been eyeing you up and down since we arrived. go out there and get him back."
i took a napkin, drying my tears before they could fall and ruin my makeup.
an idea popped up in my mind. i turned towards the door, spotting matt, ready to leave.
"nick, quick, how mean would it be if i took revenge with matt?"
"honestly? a lot", he begun, pulling out his phone, dialling matt's number. "but you know what? i support women's rights as well as women's wrongs. go do your thing, baby."
we watched as matt picked up the phone, turning towards us. nick told him to come to us before he left, and so he did.
"matt, go and dance with y/n. don't ask questions, we'll explain everything later."
matt looked at me with a puzzled look on his face, but he didn't complain when i pulled him through the crowd, right in the middle of the room.
"i'm sorry, matt, just a little payback to your dumb brother."
i briefly explained to him what happened, what we saw, and nick's idea, so that he knew what was actually happening.
"you know what? i need a tiny bit of alcohol in me, then we can truly give chris payback."
i watched as one of his friends brought him a red cup. he gulped it down, waiting for the alcohol to hit.
and when it did, we had the best night ever: we laughed, danced, twirled together. soon enough, everyone's eyes were on us, some were judging, others having fun with us. at a certain point i might have drunk something too, cause i found myself grinding against matt. and god knows how private we actually are around each other in our daily life.
i felt matt's hands travelling up my sides, pushing his hips against mine, making me feel his erection. i threw my head back against his shoulder as he placed wet kisses down my neck, hands squeezing me closer to him. soft breaths came out of my parted lips, losing myself in the moment: maybe it was the alcohol, or the music, or the knowledge that everyone does some dumb shit during halloween night and then act the next day like nothing happened, but i had a strong urge to grab him and kiss him, to feel his lips dance on mine, our bodies so close one another that they physically couldn't get closer.
just as i turned around, intoxicated enough to actually kiss him, a strong hand pulled me away from my friend.
"wha-" i turned around, welcomed by the sight of a pissed off chris: jaw clenched, eyes fixed on a spot in front of him, dragging me around the room, elbowing whoever dared to step in front of him.
i tried to free myself from his grip, pulling and tugging with all my might, but he didn't even bulge a tiny bit. "where the fuck do you think you are taking me-"
"quiet."
"chris i swear-"
"shut the fuck up," he growled. he dragged me up the stairs, stopping in front of a door. he opened it and pushed me inside.
he locked the door behind me, pushing me against it. his lips immediately found mine, kissing me roughly. it was an angry kiss, a forceful one. it was screaming vendetta, jealousy, hurt.
i tugged at his hair as his tongue made its way in my mouth. his hands gripped my hips, so hard that i was sure they would leave marks. he hooked his hand under my knee, pushing my leg up and around his waist. i tiptoed with the other leg, trying to gain a bit of height.
chris pressed his erection right against my pussy, grinding slightly to tease me.
"chris," i moaned, every little noise swallowed by his lips.
"such a whore," he growled, lifting me up. both my legs wrapped around his waist to steady myself, as my back hit the door behind me. from this new position, i could feel his tip pushing right at my entrance.
"you really had to go all out and fuck my brother, didn't you? such a needy slut."
"the only slut here is you, flirting with that little friend of yours."
he snorted, clearly pissed off at my comeback.
"you really have no idea of what is coming, ma."
chills ran down my spine at that threat, at his dark voice and blown out pupils. he had the look of someone ready to eat you alive, and that was probably his intent.
"how pathetic," he mumbled before ripping apart the tight fabric of my shorts, leaving me completely bare.
i gasped, trying to pull away. "my shorts!"
"oh please," he started, "they were covering nothing. you could walk out there like this and no one would notice the difference."
he pressed me harder against the door as he pulled down his pants, just enough for his dick to spring out.
"hope matt got you wet enough," he chuckled ironically, then pushed himself right in, to the brim.
a chocked out moan left my lips, as chris started thrusting fast and hard inside me.
"oh chris- fuck."
"yeah? feels good? bet matt couldn't fuck you like i do."
i threw my head against the door while i clawed at his back, his jersey stopping me from leaving marks all over his back.
"ngh- so big, chris...please," i whimpered, trying to adjust to his size and rhythm. chris's lips attached to my neck, leaving kisses all around. as his mouth travelled down to my cleavage, he started to bite and nip at my skin, making sure that it would bruise.
"fuck-," he pulled out, quickly putting me down and bending me over the desk right by the door. whose room was that, again?
he pushed himself right in again, gripping my hips. he pounded into me so hard that the desk was banging against the wall with every thrust.
the room filled with the sound of our bodies slapping together, moans and groans as the music resonated faintly.
"such- a whore, fuck!" i felt him shudder; his hand flew quickly at the base of his cock, squeezing slightly to prevent himself from cumming yet.
"you're fuckin'mine, got that? mine."
one hand grabbed my asscheek, slapping it right after. and then again, and again, until i was left trembling and crying, overstimulated from the pleasure and pain that he was inflicting me.
his thrusts grew sloppy and unsteady as he approached his release. "chris, please, please, i wanna cum so bad" i sniffled, gripping the desk until my knuckles turned white to ground myself.
"no."
"please-"
"you can hold it. you're not cumming until i tell you to."
i bit my hand lightly, trying to focus on his orders. but it was just so hard, and he was fucking me just so good, hitting that sweet spot over and over again, that i knew i couldn't last for much longer.
a low guttural moan escaped from chris's lips as my walls clenched around him hard, pushing both of us even closer to our orgasms.
with a particular deep thrust, he tipped over the edge, spilling inside me, filling me with his hot cum. he groaned relieved as he thrusted slow and soft inside me, riding the waves of his climax.
i screamed, unable to contain my orgasm anymore, shaking as i came down from my high. i whimpered, laying down on the desk, the cool wood making me shiver all around.
"good job, ma," he whispered, stroking my back and kissing my shoulder. "such a good girl f'me, hm?"
his arms wrapped around my waist, helping me up. i leaned into him, grabbing his jersey for support.
"was i too rough?" i shook my head, leaning back to look at him in the eyes. a question bursted out, unable to stay put anymore.
"who was that girl?" chris looked taken back by the sudden question, but he had no problem answering. he shrugged, "i have no idea, i just wanted to work you up. you always give your best with angry sex."
i looked at him flabbergasted, ready to actually pick up a fight. "chris i swear-"
"shush mamas, let's get you something to actually cover up, hm? don't wanna go out there covered in marks and with no pants on, right?"
「 ★ ★ ★ 」
𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃/𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊. 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓
yk what i should fly to the USA just to experience Halloween the American way, that shit seems so much fun i swear.
hope you enjoyed it! happy, spooky Halloween everyone!
love y'all,
-bree🎃🦇
MASTERLIST
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#chris sturiolo fanfic#chris smut#christopher sturniolo#chris × reader
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bae bae | choi su-bong (thanos)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a6c4b889a85801ee0ff05ef2ba76ad66/8eebc686eabfd25c-e6/s540x810/1e02ecbe349df4176d6764bc6baca60c9b20fb63.jpg)
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・❥・ summary: after a night out at club pentagon you end up in bed with your friend who has zero shame ・❥・word count: 1.6k ・❥・warnings: 18+. mdni. oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, thanos is rough. swearing. mentions of drugs, female reader. ・❥・ authors note: ... this is pure filth, im so sorry. also this is pre-squid game <3 i also havent added my taglist in case people dont want to be tagged in smut but if you do let me know!!
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The whole night had been a blur. How you’d ended up back in your own bed you had no idea but thankfully you’d made it home safe. The music from Club Pentagon still echoed through your ears like an anthem constantly playing in your head. You opened your eyes, your hands coming up to rub them with the palm of your hands. What time was it? You leaned over, grabbing your phone off the bedside table to see it was 3am. With a groan, you buried your head back into the safety of your pillow making a mental note to yourself to never drink so much again. All you could remember was that it had been a rough day, so bad that your friend Su-bong had decided a night out at his favourite club was the perfect remedy. So much for listening to him. That was on you, really. None of his ideas were ever good. They mostly consisted of drowning feelings in alcohol or taking one of his colourful little pills to forget what was going on.
As your thoughts drifted to him, a quiet groan filled the room causing you to perk up. It was coming from next to you so you just had to assume it was Thanos making noises in his sleep. He did that often – his nightmares coming frequently. If he was next to you that meant he had been the one to bring you home. A big thank you was in order for him in the morning when you could handle being awake. If your pounding head was anything to go by, you were going to have one hell of a hangover. Your eyes closed once again as you tried to drift back off to sleep. Just as you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard a grunt.
Okay, what was going on here?
You turned around, sitting up slightly as you took in the scene before you. Yeah, there Thanos was. Everything seemed normal until you saw his chest rising and falling rapidly, movement under the blankets catching your eye. Your brows furrowed. This man wasn’t doing what you thought he was doing in your bed, was he? Only one way to find out.
Maybe it was your hungover mind but the thought of what you might find excited you. The way he was biting his lower lip to keep quiet only fueling your intrusive thoughts. Your fingers grasped the blanket, pulling it off. Well, you were right.
There he was, hand wrapped around his cock as he jerked himself off. Your eyes fixated on his hand that began speeding up, his hips bucking off the bed for more friction. Oh, he was really into this. How had he not realised you’d caught him? Part of you wanted to watch him finish, the throbbing between your legs thinking for you more than your brain. You hadn’t even realised how into this you were until you caught yourself slipping. There had been moments in the past where the two of you had almost hooked up but it had never gone past making out. Something always got in the way whether it was his friend Nam-gyu interrupting or his need to take another pill – it never led anywhere.
You cleared your throat deciding it was better to let him know you’d caught him than let him carry on. His eyes flew open, his hand still as he looked at you. He wasn’t embarrassed – you were certain he didn’t even know that emotion. He just looked at you expectantly, pushing himself to sit up slightly, his erection still standing for the world to see.
“What?” He asked unbothered, annoyed even that you’d stopped him.
“I just caught you jerking yourself off and you don’t care?” You blinked at him. This was Thanos, of course he didn’t care. He had no shame.
“Why the fuck would I? Now, you gonna let me finish or help me out here.” He gestured towards his cock, his hand slowly stroking himself again.
As you watched, you couldn’t help but be transfixed. He knew what he was doing and it was working. The cogs in your brain were working overtime as you fought with helping him or ignoring him and letting take care of himself. He could see it, the smirk on his face making him look even more attractive. ‘Fuck it’, you thought.
“Fine, you’ll owe me one, though.”
“No problem, Senorita. Now get those pretty lips wrapped around my dick.”
You didn’t have time to react before his hand came up to your head, pushing you down towards his hardened length. Your tongue darted out, teasing the head but he wasn’t having it. He was too horny for teasing. He needed to have his cock stuffed down your throat or he was going to go insane. So, without warning, he pushed your head down onto him. It took you by surprise, almost choking but you steadied yourself, hands gripping his hips as you finally found a rhythm. Your lips moved up and down his length, tongue flattening out against the underside of his cock.
“Mhmm, just like that, pretty girl,” he rasped in that deep voice of his, his fingers tangling in your hair pushing you down onto him. You felt him hit the back of your throat almost gagging on him before he pulled you back up. “You’re doing so good.”
The praise was turning you on more than you’d like to admit. Your lips wrapped around him again, taking him as deep as you could without choking but it wasn’t enough. His hips bucked up into your mouth, his hand firmly tangled in your hair. You decided to give up and let him have his way. He felt your mouth slacken, the feral grin on his face letting you know he was more than willing to fuck your mouth stupid.
His grunts and groans filled the room as he thrust up into your mouth at a rapid pace. You could feel his cock twitching each time he hit the back of your throat. Tears sprang at the corner of your eyes as you gagged on him, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m so fuckin’ close.”
Just as you were sure he was about to finish, he yanked your head off him, pushing you back down onto the bed. In a frenzy, he pushed the skirt up you were wearing, pulling your panties to the side. He slid his index finger along your pussy, almost groaning at how wet you were when he hadn’t even done anything. You were so damn desperate, he loved every second of it. “Wanna come inside this sweet, little pussy. You gonna let me, baby?”
He dragged his cock along your folds coating himself in your slickness and that was game over for you. Frantically, you nodded your head. That was all he needed. He pushed himself inside you in one deep thrust. The loud moan you let out surprised you, Thanos’s eyes almost rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of finally being inside you after all this time. No interruptions, no need for a high. This was the only high he needed. He’d been missing out. He pushed your legs up and over his shoulders, pulling his cock almost all the way out and thrusting inside once again. His pace was anything but gentle, the tight grip he had on your hips sure to leave bruises. Your hands gripped the bedsheets below you as he pounded into you. There was no way you were going to last long if he kept this up but then again neither was he. You could tell with the way his eyebrows scrunched up that he was holding back. At least he wasn’t selfish in the bedroom.
“Su-bong,” you moaned, back arching as you felt your orgasm fast approaching. The moaning of his name was almost his undoing.
“Yeah? You like that, huh? Like being fucked stupid by your best friend?” He panted, the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoing off the walls of the small room. The bed occasionally banging against the wall with the intensity of his thrusts. Your neighbours were definitely going to have something to say about it in the morning. “Come for me. Wanna feel you squeezin’ the life outta me.”
One particular hard thrust and that was it. A loud, almost pornographic moan fell from your lips as you saw stars. Your fingers pulled at the sheets, legs quivering as your orgasm washed over you. Thanos didn’t let up his pace, his eyes drawn to where your bodies were joined as he fucked into you. The feeling of your walls squeezing around his cock bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck, fuck. Gonna come. Gonna fill you up real good.”
It took one, two more thrusts when he stilled inside you, his cock twitching as he came harder than he had in his life. He was sure he saw the whole damn universe, throwing his head back as he groaned. His hips shallowly thrust into you, pulling out once he’d finished. Did he clean you up? Nah. He flopped back down next to you, grabbing his vape off the bedside.
“We should’ve done that a long time ago,” he chuckled, taking a puff. He handed it over to you, his lazy eyes meeting yours. “Do I still owe you one?”
You took a hit of the vape, nodding your head as you passed it back to him. “Oh, hell yeah you do. Not getting out of it that easily.”
“Was hoping you’d say that,” he winked at you, throwing an arm over your shoulder and bringing you into his side. It wasn’t cuddling but it was something to show you his appreciation. Better than nothing.
#choi subong x reader#thanos x reader#choi su bong x reader#squid game x reader#choi seunghyun#thanos smut#my fics#me off to hide everytime i post smut
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promises we intend to keep | steve rogers
Summary: The Avenger's spend time with their comatose friend, Cap's sanity slips from him as he spends every night by her bedside. Is blind faith enough?
Part 2 to things we shouldn't have said (prev. classic enemies to lovers stuff) // He sounded like an idiot, but he couldn't care less. // word count: 4.3k
enjoyed? please like/reblog! you can find my masterlist here <3
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“Hi, (y/n).” He settled himself into the chair next to the bed, the familiar antiseptic smell filling his nostrils, the beep, beep, beep of her heart like music to his ears. He had hated it at first, but now, it was evidence that she was still here. There was still hope. “I’ve got a break between meetings so I figured I’d come down and say hello.”
He leaned back, watching her peaceful features as unmoving as they had been for nearly a month now. He frowned at the wires connected to her neck and chest, knowing that if she was awake she would’ve hated that. Part of him wanted to rip them off, but his more rational thinking prevented him from doing that.
Dr. Cho’s words circled round his mind, as they hadn’t stopped doing since she spoke them all those weeks ago. “She’s not out of the woods yet. She died twice on the table, and requires all manners of intervention going forward. We’ll only know the extent of the damage when she wakes up –” The doctor had paused for just a second, trying to soften what was only certain to be a killing blow. “–If she wakes up.”
Every time he remembered those words, his knees felt as weak as Bambi on ice. The nausea he used to feel every time he entered this room had faded, and the shell-shock had worn. She still occupied every moment of his thoughts, awake or unconscious. Not that he had been doing a lot of sleeping.
He opened the book at the page he had last left off at, when Sam had come downstairs and dragged the Captain to bed himself last night. “Just to recap,” He spoke to her regardless of her response to him. “Laurie confessed to Jo, but she rejected him. Beth is still sick and boy, that’s rough.”
He cleared his throat and began reading aloud.
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“(Y/l/n), I’ve had enough now.” Natasha charged through the doors to where (y/n) lay. She threw herself down in the chair, leaning her head on her asleep friend’s shoulder, trying to gain what little emotional support she could from her usual source of sanity amongst the chaos of the compound. “The boys are driving me crazy. I think you’ve made your point; Cap is sorry – he’s very, very sorry, borderline depressed – so you can come back.”
She smiled a charming, pleading smile. But no one was there to see it. She dropped the smile after a few seconds.
“(Y/n), it’s hard without you here. No one’s the same, and Steve won’t accept any missions so we can’t even escape. Sam and Bucky are about to tear each other apart, and Cap just wallows in the gym whenever he’s not here with you.”
More silence.
“Anyways, Cap said that he wants someone here as much as possible. And we haven’t hung out in a while, so if you don’t mind we’re going to watch the new season of Love Island together.” She kicked off her shoes, stretching her legs over the hospital bed and getting comfortable.
================================================
The next visitor didn’t say anything as he walked through the doors, hovering by the foot of the bed. He uncomfortably brought his hands in and out of his pockets, shifting from one leg to the other.
He eventually moved beside the bed, reaching a hand out to her forehead, to get rid of a hair that had found itself there. He stood there, staring, in silence for a while longer. He swallowed, took a breath, and spoke out loud;
“Kid, I don’t know if you can hear me.” He paused. “You probably can’t.”
He paced around the room, continuing; “I just want you to know, I got your little letter. Really, more of a stunt, very childish – anyway. I want you to know that if that’s your wish, I’ll help you out in setting up. But I also need you to know that you’re going to have to tell me that to my face. So you’ll have to wake up.”
“Also, I’m your boss and your sick pay is running out, so chop chop.” He joked to himself. He basked in the silence for another second.
“It’s not the same without you, (y/l/n). Hope to talk soon.”
“Mr. Stark, Mrs Potts is requesting your presence in the kitchen.” FRIDAY chimed in right on time. He muttered a be right up, taking one last look at his young teammate, and walked out the doors.
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A month to the day since she was shot, Steve couldn’t sleep. Before the whole debacle, he would’ve just gone to the gym and fought it out of his system. But now, he couldn’t bear being anywhere but in the medical bay. He couldn’t even count the amount of times he had woken up in that chair, neck in excruciating pain, the book on the floor. Or, the amount of times Bucky or Sam or Natasha had come downstairs and marched him back to bed.
He couldn’t help it. The thought of her waking up alone, not knowing where she is, was his greatest concern – scratch that, his greatest fear was her not waking up at all.
He didn’t take the time to change into proper clothes, instead deciding to head down in his pyjamas – ones that she had complimented him on, once upon a time. Red flannel pants and a matching henley – she had described it as ‘lumberjack chic’ and then explained that that was a good thing. He hadn’t realised back then, but Steve now thinks she might have been flirting. He cursed how much of an idiot he was before this disaster.
He wished desperately he could turn back time to then. Before he decided the only way not to love her, was to hate her.
“It’s me, again.” He spoke, taking his familiar spot on the chair next to the bed. He yawned, getting himself more comfortable, flicking the blanket they had all collectively decided was required over his legs. “Now, where were we?” He picked up the book again, reciting words from the pages until it fell from his hand, loud snores from his mouth filling the room.
================================================
When he awoke again, he was in the same familiar pain he always had when he spent too much time in the chair. This time he had fallen forward, his head resting on the bed and… his hand entwined in hers.
He sighed, giving himself the luxury of just a second feeling what he would never have. Her hands were soft, and smooth. Not like his own. They were warm, and comfortable, and something about her fingers holding onto his just felt right.
It wouldn’t be respectful to linger for longer than that, not without her knowing, but as he tried to pull his hand away –
Was that a twitch?
He stared at her hand, now more awake and alert than he had been all month. There was no way, he was definitely just going delirious through stress, or lack of sleep, or maybe his age had just caught up with him because –
A second twitch.
“Oh my god.” He glared daggers into her hand, as if that would do something. Maybe he really was losing his marbles. This was just wishful thinking. His heart feeling like it was about to thump, thump, thump right out of his chest. Do it again. Please, do it again.
When it happened for a third time, and he saw it with his own eyes, he could only make a noise that could really only be described as a squeal. On his feet in an instant, his hand finding its way to her cheek, cupping her face.
There was no other sign of life. He stared and stared and stared. “Wake up, (y/n). Wake up, I’m here.” He pleaded. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he considered them; “If you wanted to prove a point, consider it proven. You’re not a liability, you’ve never, ever been a liability.”
“Just wake up. I am so, so sorry for everything.” His thumb stroked her cheek, his eyes staring at her face looking for anything that might indicate she was coming back to him. “Just wake up.”
Nothing.
He sat back down, defeated. He had gotten his hopes up, and it all came crashing back down. He placed his hand firmly back on hers as he leant his head on the bed, wet patches forming on the sheets as saltwater leaked from his eyes.
====================================
“Cap, we’re not saying we don’t believe you —” Sam was interrupted.
Steve turned away from his friends, growing more and more frustrated with every sentence uttered. They didn’t believe him. She had moved. She was coming back, but no one would listen.
“You don’t believe me. I promise her hand twitched.” His jaw tensed, his stare as far away from his friends as he could get.
“Stevie, we believe that you felt something, but you have to admit, bud, you’ve been hardly sleeping and pushing yourself too far. Nothing was picked up on monitors, how would that be?” Bucky reasoned, sitting in the same chair where Steve had been so convinced she was waking up, just hours ago.
He had called them to the room as early as he deemed was responsible that day, and they had come running. Only to find their friend still asleep, and the captain with red eyes and bags under them that only seemed to get worse and worse the more they looked.
Sam sighed, hand reaching up to rub his temple. He had had a pretty consistent headache himself for a good couple of weeks. “Steve, I completely understand. We all want her back, but you can’t keep torturing yourself over this. She’ll wake up, just give her time.”
“Sam, it’s been a month – the doctor said if she was going to wake up it would take around a week.” Steve pleaded, the tears welling in his eyes again. He didn’t care anymore about hiding it from them. They already thought he was crazy anyway.
Sam placed a hand on his back as he wiped the water with the back of his hand.
“We’ll wait as long as it takes, but it has to be we. You can’t be here all the time, Steve. It’s no good if she wakes up and you’ve killed yourself from lack of sleep.”
“I don’t want to miss the moment she comes back.” He whispered.
Sam and Bucky made eye contact, pitying looks cast between them.
Bucky decided to speak, seeing Sam’s heartbreak at trying to reason with their normally solid friend. “Steve, you have to go to bed – don’t argue – but I’ll stay with her. I promise that if anything happens, I will let you know in an instant.”
Steve’s lips drew into a tight line, his eyebrows furrowed. Bucky continued; “Come on, just give me a couple hours, Stevie. I’ll chat to her, we’ll listen to music or something. I promise I’ll take care of her.”
“Come on.” Sam put his arm round Steve, gentle but firmly leading him away. He stole one last glance, as Bucky pulled out his phone to put on some music.
When the boys were finally away, Bucky turned to her. “You’re causing quite a ruckus, tiger. You always liked your sleep, but this is a bit much.” He laughed, leaning back in the chair. “There’s not much to say, kid – I know that the others have been talking your ear off. We need you back.”
He scrolled on his phone a little. Looking for the playlist she had shared with him – one to blend their music tastes. It was originally just for a mission they had to go on together, but turned into one of his favourite ways to bond with her. Music. He laughed again at the name: ‘Golden Oldie and the Wunderkind’ He remembered the day she had made up the name, they hadn’t stopped laughing for hours.
He clicked shuffle, smiling as I and Love and You by the Avett Brothers came over the speakers. “I know you like this song because it reminds you of Stevie.” He teased, but let it play out. He didn’t quite let himself sing, but he did mouth the words to his favourite verse;
That woman, she’s got eyes that shine, Like a pair of stolen, polished dimes. She asked to dance, I said ‘it’s fine– I’ll see you in the morning time’.
What he didn’t tell her, didn’t dare to say out loud, was that ever since he had mentioned to Steve that she liked the song, Steve had listened to it at least once a day. Particularly after they had their usual fights.
These idiots have a lot to figure out when she wakes up. He thought to himself.
================================================
Bucky got a few hours with her, listening to their playlist, occasionally chatting about the song choices. He briefly tried to read the book on the side, but when he saw it was Little Women, he put it right back down again.
“Sorry, tiger. Not my vibe.” He chuckled.
The doors opened slowly, revealing a slightly-less-haggard Captain America. He had put actual clothes on, looked like he had slept at least a little bit and had even showered. Bucky gave a nod of approval, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair again.
“You feeling better?” Bucky asked his friend, who simply nodded in response.
Buck stood, knowing that Steve wanted to be alone with her right now. To not have the pitying looks thrown at him that Bucky couldn’t help but cast. He understood, he had been there.
“See ya, punk.” He gave a hearty smile before leaving.
Steve took his rightful seat, sighing before starting the same routine they had done over, and over, and over again. He was growing so sick of this chair, and the bed, and the beeping from the machines that didn’t seem to be helping at all.
He got through around half a chapter of Little Women, until he realised that Beth was going to die. He didn’t know how he hadn’t remembered, he had heard his mother reading this book all the way back in ‘35. He closed the book, finding death far too triggering, given the current situation.
Just closing the book wasn’t enough, it was like it burned him to hold it. He threw it across the room in a moment of fury. Frustration swept his whole body as he spiralled, down and down and down. He was ashamed of how out of control he had become. He had always been so rational, so measured. He was always the one people came to when they needed grounding – yet he didn’t know how to ground himself.
He rested his head on her arm, his sweaty palms holding her hand with a ferocity hitherto unseen from him. Like his damn life depended on it.
Maybe it did.
“Come on, (y/n),” He pleaded with the air. With God. With her. “I know you’re mad at me, just wake up and we’ll have another shouting match. Just like before.” A brutally defeated tone weighed down his voice, rough and gravelly from the effort of his bargain. He enclosed her hand in both of his own, leaning his head against them.
A cough.
He froze for a second, hiding behind her hand in his. The coughs continued, dry and painful sounding. Was there someone else in the room?
He took a moment to steel himself, peeling himself away from her hand, and staring at her, mouth agape like a fish out of water. “Oh my god.”
“Water.” She croaked.
He jumped up, the chair going flying backwards. He didn’t notice. With shaking hands, he poured the water from the jug on the bedside table into one of the plastic cups. He held it up to her dry, cracked lips, watching as she drank the whole cup.
“Be careful.” He spoke, instincts kicking in. “You’re on fluids, don’t overload your kidneys.”
She finished, her head laying straight back down on the pillow. He could see in her very brief movements that she was weak. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Her eyes were barely open as she turned her head in his direction.
“Captain?” Her voice was rough as sandpaper, like she was straining just to get her singular words out. He just stared, incredulously.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” The pet name rolled off his tongue like he had always said it, and he didn’t even notice. “Oh, my god. You’re awake. I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here.”
He had practiced over and over again, what he was going to say to her when she woke up. Thought about it for entire nights when he couldn’t get to sleep. His plans had been poetic and perfect – they were not ‘oh my god you’re awake.’ He sounded like an idiot, but he couldn’t care less.
Her eyes opened, slowly, and she looked around the room. “What happened?” The words were still a struggle to get out and he could tell. He wanted to tell her to rest, to save her voice for later, to recuperate. But he hadn’t heard that sound in so long, that he let himself be selfish – just one more time.
His own mouth when dry at her amnesia. She knew who he was, which was good. But not knowing how she ended up here was a bad sign.
“What do you remember?” She was growing restless at lying down, and she was in so much pain. It felt like her whole body was made of stone, but she used all of the strength she had in her to try to sit up.
She was met by gentle hands, guiding her up and placing pillows behind her to support her. Hands that belonged to her once arch-nemesis, who looked at her now like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.
She was so confused.
“I remember arguing in the forest.” Her eyes were wide with what Steve could only decipher as panic. “I don’t remember anything else… Why am I here?” The scared tone in her voice broke Steve’s heart all over again, but it could not take over the elation he felt at the fact that she was there.
He took a deep breath, briefly considering what he should tell her, considering all the events of the last month, in particular, that day. One of the worst days of his life.
“You were shot through the chest.” He began. “It knocked you out instantly, we barely got you here alive.” He ran his thumb softly over the back of her hand, unable to make eye contact. “You- you’ve been asleep for a month.”
He decided not to tell her of the fact she had died on the operating table. That could wait.
“A month?!” She shouted, resulting in another coughing fit. He helped her drink some more water, making soothing noises as she did so. It all felt so surreal. Every minute of every day since that moment, he had wished for this. And now it was happening. She was awake, and talking.
Her voice started to clear; “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”
“No. Please, don’t worry about me. You saved me from being shot right before you went down – it was my fault you got hurt.”
“I don’t think that’s right.” She contorted her face into a puzzled expression, looking down at his hand, clasping hers. She said it as a mix between a statement and a question – “We’re holding hands?”
“Yes, um. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up and your hand twitched a couple of days ago so that’s why – sorry, I’ll stop-”
As he tried to untangle their hands, she closed her fist and prevented him from doing so. He watched her chest rise and fall quickly, her eyes wide.
“Please, don’t.” Her words were like a child’s as her nostrils flared. She was uncertain. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen her uncertain before, not even a flash of hesitance had danced across her features as far back as he could remember. “It feels nice.”
Maybe, he just wasn’t paying enough attention.
“Then I’ll keep holding your hand until you ask me to stop.” He promised. A gentle, sincere smile took over his features, which she tried her best to replicate. He observed her face, drinking in the colour in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes.
It was a stark contrast to how they had last left off – the image replaying over and over again in his mind of her clinging to life, blood leaking from her mouth, her nose, her chest. The inky, sticky red coating his suit and his hands and his shoes. So much blood, endless. Sometimes he still felt the slick heat of it all over him. He wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to scrub that feeling from his memory.
“Where are the others? Are they okay?” (Y/n) asked, looking around the room at the various bunches of flowers and cards littered upon every surface. Steve had completely forgotten the others existed in his complete shock at her return.
He winced, knowing he should have called for them immediately. “They’ll be so happy to see you.” He spoke directly to her, and then to the ceiling; “FRIDAY, let everyone know that (y/n) is awake.”
“Yes, Captain.” The irish lilt came from above.
It was mere seconds before the doors came barrelling open, the entire team funnelling into the relatively small room, crowding around the bed and exclaiming various different versions of ‘Oh my god’, ‘You’re awake’, ‘Holy shit’. The room was absolute chaos with an unmusical cacophony.
This was allowed to go on for a few minutes, before the on-call doctor, someone (y/n) had never seen before, rounded the corner. “Okay, okay!” He shouted, “This is too much for the patient, I want everyone out – you can come in smaller groups.”
Everyone grumbled but did as they were told, each taking their chance to say ‘call if you need anything’, ‘see you later’ or ‘we’ll come back with sweets’. Bucky ruffled her hair and Natasha pressed a kiss to her cheek, muttering about how a certain Captain would be looking after her. She didn’t really understand what it meant, but a blush spread to her cheeks anyway.
As the last of them filed out, Steve turned to her and asked; “Do you want me to stay?” A certain vulnerability sewn into his question.
“Yes.” She answered far too quickly. “Please, Captain. If that’s okay.” Her voice seemed to get smaller and smaller as she spoke. “I don’t want to be alone.” Her grip on his hand tightened, both a demand and a question contained within it.
How on Earth could he say no to her? Her wide, gorgeous eyes searched his face for an answer, which he gave by settling further into the chair, pulling it even closer to the bed, if that was even possible.
“Like I said, as long as you want. I’m here, you’re not alone.”
They sat in silence for a while, the Captain not taking his eyes away from her face.
“(Y/n).” He had to tell her, now or never. He wouldn’t risk something like this again, things going unsaid. “I hope you know how sorry I am for what I said, all those weeks ago. It’s not an excuse, but I realised all this time I’ve not hated you, I’ve …”
She looked at him, her lips parted. Her messy hair splayed in a way where the fluorescent lights caught it, making it look like a sort of pseudo-halo. He knew it, right there and then. This was it.
“I’ve loved you. Since the moment we met.”
A shocked expression on her face moved slowly, her open mouth contorting into a soft, loving smile. She squeezed his hand, bringing her other arm over to hold it as well. Just more contact. That was all she needed.
“Steve, I feel the same.” She was still playing with his actual name, not ‘Captain’ or ‘Rogers’ or a sarcastic ‘Cap’. He couldn’t believe how it sounded coming from her – like it was a new name altogether. Like a song he was discovering for the first time.
He couldn’t help it now, he beamed. “You do?”
She nodded, licking her lips. They were so cracked, and dry. But she didn’t care.
“I– I can’t lean over to you, but… I would love to kiss you right now.”
He didn’t waste any time. Up and out of his seat in an instant, crossing what little distance was left between them. His hands reached her cheeks first, cupping them ever so softly. They breathed together, just for a second, his eyes flicking to hers almost to make sure she knew what she was doing.
And then his lips were on hers. The kiss wasn’t like she had imagined – it wasn’t dramatic, wasn’t angry, wasn’t sudden. It was calculated and gentle and passionate. It was everything she could ever have hoped for.
They pulled apart, Steve knowing that she wasn’t strong enough to hold her breath to kiss her as long as he wanted to. His hand stroked her cheek, his eyes staring into hers. He rested his forehead against hers for a second, before moving up and pressing a kiss to it.
The look in his eyes was one of love, happiness and admiration.
“I think I’ve wanted to do that since we met.” He admitted, breathless from excitement. They smiled at each other wordlessly, growing used to the looks between not being ones of glaring and daggers, but of kindness, and warmth.
The only sound was the steady beep, beep, beep of her heart rate – a sound he had definitely decided he loved. They stayed like that for hours, before she started to fall back asleep – to rest, this time.
“Will you be here when I wake up?” She asked, as she slipped back into slumber.
“I promise.” And nothing on Earth could stop him from keeping it.
================================================
TAGS -- I've tagged everyone who requested a part two! You guys really keep my motivation up so I hope it's done you justice <3. This will be the last part for now, but I'm thinking of setting future domestic fics in this universe!
@haven-in-writing @marvelouskatie @veryaverageapple @ironwinnerwonderland @ohdrey89 @waqtzayaontmblr @shygamergirl01 @starkenobi @ynstark
p.s. please please listen to 'I and Love and You' by the Avett Brothers if you haven't before -- it's so Steve and is such a lovely song.
#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x fem!reader#avengers x reader#fem!reader#f!reader#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#steve rogers fanfiction#captain america fanfiction#steve rogers#bucky barnes#sam wilson#reader insert#peter parker#hurt-comfort#enemies to lovers#steve rogers x avenger!reader#avengers#tony stark#bruce banner#natasha romanoff#marvel fanfiction#injury#coma#avengers fanfiction#mcu
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Scream for me little lamb
Ghostface!Aemond x Fem!Reader
Summary: You don't know him, you haven't even seen him before. Yet this cruel killer is in your mind, entangled like a parasite. For just one night you want to get rid of this feeling - to get rid of him. What's the worst that could happen?
Rated: Explicit (+18)
Dividers: @cafekitsune
Word count: 5k
Author's Note: This story contains themes that may be disturbing or triggering for some, such as: DETAILED DESCRIPTIONS OF PANIC ATTACKS, BLOOD, MURDER, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, THREATS, AND SEX. Your health (mental and physical) should always be your priority, if any of these themes are too heavy for you to handle I beg that you ignore this post. To those who choose stay, I wish you a good read!
The reader suffers from some emotional issues. But who doesn't, right?
English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes you may find.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8dc6bab2c8d3c40c1a812986230e5af0/1a093b49a01eb74e-80/s540x810/dfa1377a6fc2b426d74feb9b7fe71d571b082818.jpg)
Come on, it’ll be fun, she said.
You urgently need to relax, she said.
It’s just a quiet night, what’s the worst that could happen? She said.
Quiet night my ass, you think.
“Come on, pumpkin, you’re not even trying!” Your roommate scolds you, shouting too close to your ear, causing you to flinch with a uncomfortable grimace. “There’s life outside the dorms, you know? Is it really that much of a challenge to just enjoy the party?” Her pout is exaggerated enough for anyone in the room to see, even with the shitty stereoscopic lighting in the place.
“Hey, just try, okay? Smile, drink more, find someone cool to flirt with a little. I don’t know, do something other than just studying nonstop! Please try to have fun!” The liquid in the red cup clutched between your fingers nearly spills onto your clothes with the not-so-subtle push she gives you, her shrill, excited voice echoing louder and louder in your ear, managing to accomplish the impressive feat of overcoming the already criminally loud volume of the music playing on the speakers.
"Your idea of fun is very different from my idea of fun." You say, a good few decibels below her tone, grudgingly sipping another sip of your sickly sweet drink. "Ugh, this is horrible!" You wince at the syrupy, artificial taste of alcohol on your tongue, the bridge of your nose wrinkling in disgust - the exact same reaction as the last four times you've had a drink. Mako notices it too, if the wry laugh that leaves her lips is anything to go by. But what in the world is this anyway? And why in the hell do you keep drinking?
"Here I am, just trying to be a good friend by getting you out of that depressing cave you call a dorm to bring some action and joy into your life to, you know, expand your horizons, and you pay me back with complaints and boredom? That hurts, pumpkin, really hurts!" She's a total drama queen and your completely unimpressed expression makes it clear.
"Seriously, gaslighting now?" You roll your eyes so hard you think you can feel them in the back of your head.
"Don't blame a girl for trying!" She holds up her hand in a peace sign, another unrepentant smile on her lips.
You shake your head in denial.
"Anyway, I still find it really weird that they're throwing a party so soon after those students were killed." Your voice drops lower, looking out at the noisy crowd with a frown of disgust.
She snorts, knowing full well that something like this was coming.
"Look, I'm sad about what happened too. But it's okay to relax once in a while, okay? Shit, you're young, single, and hot as hell. You should be enjoying your life. We can't let some weirdo with a death god complex stop us from having the best time of our lives!" Your friend gestures wildly with the hand that isn't holding her glass, the alcohol in her system making her even more giggly and reckless than usual.
She exchanges 'Rated: M' glances with a buff guy across the room - a popular member of the football team and one of the hosts of the party, you recognize - winking provocatively as she shrugs her shoulders to show off her breasts, being completely and embarrassingly open about her naughty intentions toward him tonight.
"Come on, you can't honestly tell me you don't think any of these frat guys are good enough to eat in one bite."
There’s a hint of reprimand dancing on the tip of your tongue, an almost natural instinct to tell Mako exactly how selfish she’s being right now, insensitive even, with everything that’s happened recently. You weren’t close or even knew those students directly, it’s true. But they were still students at your college, faces you saw every day among the masses. They were people who had been around for a short time, walking and breathing. And then they weren’t anymore. Their young lives were taken away before they could know exactly what they wanted to do with their futures, who they were going to be in the grand, merciless scheme of things.
You don’t feel comfortable celebrating when there are parents at home crying over their children whose bodies have barely cooled underground.
But Mako was right about one thing.
The idea of living in daily fear of a man you had never seen in your life was draining every bit of spare energy from you. This mysterious killer had managed to disturb you, making you constantly paranoid, scared, and fearful. You spent your days looking around, suspicious of everything and everyone, with the electrifying feeling that at any moment he could jump in front of you and make you his newest victim. He even controlled your schedule. Because of him, you barely left the dorms anymore, always declining your friends' invitations with lame excuses. Not that you were a social butterfly before this, but this was a completely different level of seclusion - high even by your standards.
The thought that this man, who probably didn't even know you existed, was dictating the way you lived your own life was disturbing, to say the least.
You looked around, uncomfortable at how everyone was shouting, dancing, smoking, laughing, singing loudly - acting as if nothing had happened. As if three college friends hadn’t been brutally murdered a few days ago. It’s wrong, and your whole body screams it. It’s not respectful, it’s not safe. And yet, for some reason beyond explanation, you seem to be the only one terrified; the only one who’s actually having your life changed to avoid becoming a statistic.
And in that moment, with that realization in mind, Mako’s words make some sense. You don’t want to give this psychopath that kind of power.
“God, is sex all you think about?” That’s what you choose to say after a long pause, sighing in boredom at the nothing less than shameless winks your friend is giving the guy through her eyelashes. The guy, surrounded by his usual horde of friends who are just as scoundrels as he is, is returning Mako’s advances with double the intensity and lack of decorum; splaying a large hand over his jeans, right where the bulge of an admittedly sizable erection is, grinning at her like a mediocre porn star. Any more obvious than that and they’d be fucking right here on the floor, in front of all these people.
That, coupled with the creeping onset of a growing headache with each deafening beat of the speaker and the unstoppable chatter of the students around you, is making you more anxious than usual. The mass of bodies squeezing against each other to the rhythm of the music is so thick that you can barely tell one person from another; the smell of alcohol, shared sweat, sex, and cheap weed makes you wrinkle your nose every few minutes.
For socially stunted people like you, there were few things as overwhelming as a frat party roaring at the top of its lungs.
“Hey! Don’t blame me for this, blame those thirsty youthful hormones.” She shrugs as she speaks, tilting her head to slyly wrap the straw between her lips and suck on some more of her drink, her catlike gaze dancing indecisively between you and the guy from the football team.
You roll your eyes, but can’t help but feel a bit tinge of envy at her easy, playful attitude, the way she could just tune out her problems and enjoy the ride. She’s at home here, you notice; a natural in her habitat. This is normal for her — just another night amidst the noise and blatant flirting, playing with lewd looks that by itself carry more sexual activity than you’ve experienced in months.
Mako has always been your antithesis; bold and vibrant, seeing a bright and fun side to every situation — no matter how fucked up it was. Always trying to color the monochromatic palette of the world with the eccentric catastrophe that is her personality.
You, on the other hand…
Suffice it to say, your way of seeing the world is far less optimistic.
You pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation for a second, already knowing that you’re going to regret your next decision.
But you were already here, right? And she said it would be fun. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to try and enjoy it.
You sigh deeply before changing your expression, looking up at an expectant and anxious Mako, practically bouncing on her feet as she awaits your decision.
"So...you think I'm hot, um? Tell me more about it." Your lips stretch into a forced smile as you awkwardly shake your hips in that stupid Sailor Moon costume she forced you to wear, trying to have even a fraction of the blissful ignorance that naturally flows from your friend. You want to enjoy the ride. Even if the base boost of the music is threatening to tear down not only the walls of the frat house, but also the ones in your skull.
Mako's loud laugh assures you that you've managed to make her happy.
It's like she said...
What's the worst that could happen?
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
"No, no, no, not now..." You get your answer about two hours later, with your hands resting on the bathroom counter of a random suite upstairs, staring at your helpless reflection in the mirror.
There is some kind of purple LED in place of the conventional bulbs, flooding the entire bathroom with low lighting typical of a gaming room or something, a fact that only serves to make you even more distressed. The nuances in light and dark shades of violet almost mockingly highlight your blatant desperation in the mirror's reflection.
It is true that the intense blush on your cheeks and the bridge of your nose and the skin damp with sweat could easily be justified by those drinks and every attempt at electrifying dance and involuntary contact with countless heat bodies in the cramped party room, as well as your unstable breathing and disheveled hair.
But the way your hands are shaking violently where they’re flat on the granite, or the way your heart trapped in your ribcage seems to swell until it threatens to burst, and how your throat is tightening to the point where you’re choking on tiny, fragile wheezes…
These symptoms speak of something else…
You’re about to have a panic attack on irrefutable evidence.
God, how long has it been since you’ve had one of these? A year? Maybe longer?
It doesn’t matter. Fuck, it doesn’t matter now!
You sigh a thin, impatient sound between your teeth, the strands of hair on the side of your face trembling along with your entire body, your hand letting go of the edge of the sink to palm in anguish the space between your breasts beneath the garish purple lace of your costume — where your heart feels like it’s being crushed in a tight fist.
Could it have been the deafening beat of the music? Has your seclusion for so long left you so unprepared to deal with something like this? Or could it have been the incessant chatter of the students? Maybe the sheer number of people crammed into this godforsaken frat house that was clearly not designed to hold so many at once? Could it just be a consequence of your obsessive neurosis about him?
"97..."
You're falling. Or maybe flying?
"89..."
Floating in time and space. Deaf to anything but the terrors of your own mind. Reciting decreasing prime numbers like your therapist had taught you, a conscious effort to control and distract your collapsing nerves and the painful pounding of your heart.
"Fuck...fuck...83 -, ugh!"
Your eyes squeeze tightly together, unwilling to face your ravaged reflection in the mirror any longer, your head spinning in denial. The walls are too close, the floor too far beneath your feet, your own skin too tight around your flesh.
"79," you force the number from your lips, force your breath out in shallow puffs, cold sweat trickling down the back of your neck.
The thumping music downstairs is a bit muffled now, though the party is as lively as ever - but up here you feel your world shudder and crumble beneath your feet.
But you'll survive. You always survive.
Keep breathing...just keep breathing -
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
"7..."
You've been counting prime numbers for longer than you can keep track of right now, but somewhere along the grueling hell that is imploding in your own mind, your voice has regained a bit of strength. Your fingers are also shaking less, you notice distantly.
With a pained sniff, you look up at the mirror as you feel you've regained a fraction of control of yourself, taking in the humiliating image before you.
Your gaze is dull and tired. Your nose and cheeks are redder than before, your skin sticky with sweat that's now almost dried. Your whole body still trembles slightly in the aftermath of the panic attack, and the hair around your face is messier than before from all the times you pulled it in the middle of the crisis. You're a mess, undeniably. But you feel less like shit now than you did a few minutes ago, and that should count as some kind of bittersweet victory in your book of failures.
With a tug, you pull the long white gloves off your hands to turn on the faucet, letting the water run down your cupped palms to spray a little on your face. The cold water on your overheated skin makes you sigh.
This is the kind of person you had become, isn't it? Someone incapable of going to a simple frat party without having a damn panic attack. How pathetic.
"That's it, no more parties for you, young lady." You mumble as you dry your hands and cheeks on the fluffy towel hanging next to the sink, silently praying that your shaky legs will cooperate on the walk to your dorm on the other side of campus.
Mako wouldn't much like knowing that you were already leaving, but you'd like it even less for her or any of your friends to know about your little meltdown in the upstairs bathroom. It was bad enough that you had no control over it, you didn't need to see the pity reflected in her eyes when she found out, only adding to your humiliation.
Poor little broken thing, she would think.
Maybe you could just slip away without being seen and text her when you got dorms to say you were okay, leaving her questions to deal with later. You had already handled more than you could handle tonight, she would understand eventually. Not that she would notice your absence for a while, busy as she was swapping saliva and other bodily fluids with that guy.
Your phone vibrates abruptly on the counter and you jump at the unexpected noise, blinking rapidly at the letters on the screen.
Unknown Number.
With a eye roll and a still-racing heartbeat, you decide to just ignore the call, as you usually do every time an 'unknown number' pops up. Honestly, who still makes calls these days when you have a messaging app that works just fine, thank you very much? But whoever is behind that call doesn't feel the same way, and soon your iPhone's screen flashes again, bright as a beacon in the purple bathroom lighting, the device moving a few inches across the counter with the vibrations. You sigh and ignore it once more until you're done, but it vibrates again on a third try. And a fourth, when the last one doesn't work.
On the fifth try, you pick up your phone and answer with an exasperated huff, summing up your mood perfectly.
"Hello?"
The person on the other end of the line has the audacity to let out a sigh of relief - dramatic even, you might say, upon hearing your voice.
"There she is. For a moment there I thought you weren't going to answer, princess." The voice that greets you is soft, laughing, a satisfied and calm masculine purr.
"I tried. What do you want?" You answer sullenly, not in the mood to deal with this probable pervert who has nothing better to do with his life than to disturb random people late at night. You were never the brightest star when it came to social chess, and you certainly wouldn't start being so soon after your first panic attack after so long without any episodes. You were out of practice. Your head throbs, your nerves are frayed, your voice is fragile, the muscles in your body ache from the time you spent tense and trembling during the crisis. You just want to go bed.
"Easy now, little girl. I just want to know if you're okay." He hums, oblivious to your irritation.
You know he clearly hears the disdainful snort that leaves your lips. Before you can respond, however, he continues with the sentence that would change your life forever.
"That was really bad...are you sure you're better now?"
You blink at the mirror, your brows furrowed in irritation and headache. You know you should just end the call, not entertain any malicious intentions from this stranger. Yet, you find yourself answering before you even realize it.
"What are you talking about?"
"Your panic attack, love. That was a big one, hm? I thought it would never end." He hums nonchalantly, as if discussing his favorite ice cream flavor, and you part your lips at your reflection, a warning shiver settling at the base of your neck and slowly making its way down your spine.
"Um," you swallow uncomfortably, subtly glancing up at the walls and tight corners of the bathroom, looking for possible openings or hidden cameras. You had the bad luck to walk into some weird, perverted frat nerd's room, is that it? "So you're at the party too. Having fun time?" You shrug in the mirror, trying to sound blasé about what he said, but your voice is noticeably shakier than you’d like.
There’s no reason to be nervous, you try to reason with yourself when your visual scan doesn’t point to any apparent cameras. This guy probably just saw you hurrying up the stairs and is curious about your delay in returning to the party, that’s all. Although it’s still weird, since you made sure to hide in the privacy of the bathroom before your meltdown was actually noticeable to any prying eyes.
And how the hell did he have your number anyway?
"Oh yeah. Having a great time." The man answers, the lightheartedness in his voice fading to a deeper, darker tone at the end, though the smile in his voice is clear - mocking, even through the call line.
"By the way, I loved your costume. Which Sailor are you?" He prompts, returning to his airy tone, and you entertain once again the urge to just hang up on him, your already severely damaged nerves not quite able to handle the load of honest, and pointless, curiosity in the stranger's husky voice. The abrupt change in intonation makes your headache throb more by the second.
"Uh, Sailor...Mars...I guess?" You shrug, unsure why exactly you bother answering, the tip of your index and middle finger on your other hand coming up to massage your temple in slow circles, eyelashes resting on the top of your cheeks as you squint tiredly. Honestly, you're not sure if your answer is right. Having barely time (or interest, to be honest) to assess the costume before tonight - when it was shoved rudely in your face by a Mako determined to bring you to this party. You don't trust your knowledge of Sailor Moon, or any anime for that matter, to confidently answer the man's question. But...yeah...you think you might be right.
"It looks so cute on you, sweetie." He purrs on the other side; sickeningly sweet, sweet as molasses. And that's what makes you straighten up in front of the mirror - his voice suddenly sweet. Your eyes become fixed, a small hitch in your breath; suspended, alert, waiting for his next words. "I've thought so since you arrived at the party. So cute and so fucking pretty. Tiny and pretty in that silly costume."
"W-what? Who's...?" You swallow uncomfortably, but he interrupts you.
"So pretty, and so lonely too. Always lonely, aren't you sweet girl?" The way he says it, confident and calm, as if he’s absolutely certain of what he’s saying, as if he knows you. You squirm, agitated and raw, but you clench your fist at your side.
“And how would you know that?” You want to sound sharp, but you know your voice betrays how much he’s upsetting you.
“Oh, I can see that, princess.” He breathes, followed by a low hum, stretching out an enigmatic pause until your fingers are trembling around the phone. “I see how you’re always alone; misfit and scared, like a little deer hiding from the glare of headlights to avoid being caught. Isn’t that what you do, love? Trying everything to get away from that airheaded friend of yours and others equally idiotic, burying your nose in some book in the quietest part of the library so you don’t have to talk to anyone. Your hiding place, isn’t it?” He laughs with clear disdain and you feel your vision blurring, the discomfort in your stomach worsening with each word he utters.
But he doesn't stop there.
"I see how those beautiful eyes are always brimming with emotions, emotions that you deliberately refuse to share with anyone, no matter how much they insist that you open up. It's interesting how you have social options, but you choose solitude every single time. Not that that's a complaint, of course. Solitude suits you well, sweet thing."
Your breathing is faster now, loud enough for the stranger on the other side to hear, but you don't care about that. All you can think about is the information the man spewed into your ear.
He knows where you retreat to escape the incessant noise of the world around you, he knows the walls you've built around yourself, the emotional blockage in opening up to anyone - your complete unwillingness to do so. He’s not just talking about the color of clothes that you usually wear around campus — a quirk that anyone could notice and use to scare you at a time like this. No, it’s not that simple. He’s talking about intimate things, about feelings; things that only someone who lives with you could say.
The thing is, you’re not an idiot. A self-imposed hermit with anxiety issues? Of course yes. But not an idiot. You understand enough about human psychology to know that every word that comes out of this stranger’s mouth is a threat cloaked in a teasing, sugar-coated tone. And the fact that he’s telling you personal things isn’t coming from some bizarre attempt to initiate a social interaction with you, but a demonstration that he knows exactly who you are. The game is blatantly in his favor, because he knows you, but you have no idea who he is. He holds the power here, and he’s making that clear to you.
"Are you okay there, princess? You've gone so quiet on me sudden." His voice snaps you out of your trance once more, eyes flickering rapidly to your horrified reflection in the mirror.
"W-who are you, a fucking stalker? How the hell do you know this things about me?" He laughs at the false bravado in your voice, your discomfort obvious and clear to him, no matter how much you don't want it to be.
"Nah, more like a secret admirer, I'd say." He answers you matter of factly, the acidic smile on his lips bleeding through the line. "Secret not for long, of course." There's a hint of suspense in it, something ominous that lingers in the silence that follows, as if he's purposefully fermenting you in his dark insinuation.
That's it, you need to hang up.
"Don't call me again or I swear I'll report you to the police, idiot." You threaten with a venomous sigh. A bluff, of course. There was no way you could make a minimally consistent complaint when you not only had no information about who this crazy man could be, but there wasn't even a real number registered for that call that could serve as evidence in a future police report. Unknown Number, that was all you had to work with. He knew that too, judging by the amused laughter buzzing on the other side of the line. You still hear it clearly when you pull the phone away from your ear to click the red icon on the screen, ending the call.
You're shaking when you look up at your reflection in the mirror, the woman in front of you staring at you with wide eyes and a scared face, the rush of raw adrenaline in your veins making your body vibrate like a power cable.
She said it would be fun.
Mako said it would be fun.
You shouldn't be here tonight if it weren't for that damned promise.
The prospect of change wasn't appealing to you; safety was appealing. Habits and routine were appealing. Habits and routine kept you healthy, safe. Nothing outlandish ever happened in your life, and you almost preferred it that way — if there were no surprises, there would be no disappointments, no risks, no panic attacks.
You weren’t supposed to be here tonight, and there was no other explanation than the folish notion that some cosmic misalignment had occurred and you were stuck right in the middle of an anomaly.
You try to take a deep breath, the discomfort in your chest indicating a possible second wave of panic approaching. No, no, not again. You just want to leave, you want to get out of this damn house and back to the safe confines of your dorm room before any more horribly improbable things happen to you tonight.
Rationally, you know that leaving the bathroom doesn’t seem like the most sensible option, especially when the stranger on the phone has offered you clues that he’s lurking outside. But all your scared, adrenaline-fueled mind can process at the moment is the urgent desire to get away from this place as quickly as possible. And that’s why you take one last deep breath, offering one more look at the forlorn woman in the mirror before quickly grabbing your gloves from the counter and turning to open the bathroom door, walking out without looking up as you unlock your phone with trembling fingers to text Mako.
"Ouch!" You gasp as you hit your forehead on something solid as soon as you step out, your phone dancing between your hands with the impact until it falls to the floor with a loud thud, along with your white gloves. Your instinctive reaction is to bend down to pick it up, already fearing possible damage to the screen, a damage that you certainly couldn't pay at the moment, but the tip of a black boot immediately appears in your line of vision, kicking your phone into the bathroom with a rough blow.
"Hey, what's your problem?!" You growl, looking up, your neck craning to glare at the rude idiot in front of you.
However, the indignation dies on your tongue and your heart sinks in your chest when the empty eyes of a masked figure stare back at you.
It's a costume party, of course, and the guy is in costume. There's nothing really suspicious about it. Nothing you should think twice about.
But when your eyes slide to what he holds between his fingers; the blade of an intimidatingly large kitchen knife, dripping thick liquid in fat crimson drops onto the floor, the smell is ferrous and acrid and so unmistakable; so strong that not even the smell of cheap weed and wet sex that seems to be embedded in every square inch of this frat house is enough to cover up that odor. Blood. Human blood. Dripping and heated.
And you just know.
You know it's him.
God knows how many days (fucking weeks) your hyperfocus has been on this man. The search bar of your browser and social media was full of questions about him, hunting like a detective in the safe solitude of your dorm room, eagerly searching for any clues to his identity. Nothing but "tall masked man" was what you came up with, no matter how hard you tried. His victims didn't live to tell the tale and the few, rare glimpses of him were too vague to confirm anything.
It’s insane the idea that you could tell it was him when there was barely any information about who he might be or what he looked like, but you know — you just know.
He stands there, relaxed and unfazed as you study him with growing horror, as if it were the natural thing to do — as if he’d been waiting all along for you to open the door so he could enter. And then the masked figure takes a casual step into the bathroom, the easy confidence in this simple act foreshadowing his ease in overpowering his victims.
You swallow hard, backing away slowly as you lock eyes with the killer’s empty mask holes. The notion that there’s no way out of the room becoming painfully obvious to you. The man takes up the entire space of the exit; the width of his shoulders spanning almost from one side of the doorframe to the other, his long legs slightly apart to fill any gaps.
The only way out of here would be if you stepped over him; and that wasn’t going to happen.
So much for a fun night.
(Part II in progress, if you are interested.)
#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#ewan mitchell#hotd#hotd season 2#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#prince aemond#aemond imagine#ghostface#panic attack#triggers#ghostface x reader#ghostface x you#aemond x fem!reader#aemond x reader#scream
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HOW’S YOUR DAY?
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pairing — hwang in-ho x barista!reader
synopsis — often taking night shifts at the cafe, you usually find yourself in the presence of lonely people. comforting them as they vent to you whilst you made their orders. a tired looking man who sat behind the counter seemed to be needing some conversation and that’s exactly what you gave him— and a little bit more.
warnings — VERY ooc!in-ho, soft!in-ho, age gap, 20’s reader, 40’s in-ho, in-ho has a cat, this was proofread but can still have some mistakes(?), just some good old fluff
wc — 785
AN — hii this is js something short i wanted to write about before I actually finish some requests that I’ve gotten so this is essentially my first fanfic on tumblr. this is actually based off a roblox game called ‘how’s your day?’ highly recommend playing it <3 (send in more requests to feed the beast)
it’s only a few weeks before the games would start and in-ho could already feel himself draining. the vips, having to think of what games he should have in the annual squid games— everything was bothering him. besides his cat.
after feeding his cat, he left his apartment shortly after, finding himself in a little cafe with a nice view of the night city outside along with the stars and some jazz music playing in the background. the smell of coffee was wafting in the air and the whole atmosphere was just calming, something that in-ho needed desperately.
in-ho seated himself at the counter, watching as you moved around behind the counter, making orders whilst having conversations with the customers.
after serving your last order, you notice the man sitting behind the counter and immediately go up to him. “hi, how can i help you?” you questioned, a small smile on your lips as you wiped your hands with a rag.
in-ho had stared at your face for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering. “just an americano…please.” he added the ‘please’ with a tinge of hesitation in his voice. you merely nodded and went straight to making his order.
you couldn’t help when your eyes drifted to his direction when you were making his drink and before you knew it, you struck up a conversation.
“you look very worn out…” you noted, a hint of concern in your voice as he looked back at you. his eyes seemed as if they were devoid of any emotion and his hair looked a bit messy.
“ah, just…work.” his reply was simple and you nodded, having the urge to continue the conversation.
“wanna talk about it?”
“oh, it’s fine, I wouldn’t want to impose you with my thoughts.”
“it’s fine, really. if it helps, i usually talk with the other customers here. sometimes they come in to just vent and i try my best to listen.”
in-ho raised a small brow, staying quiet. you seemed like such a sweet girl, listening to other people’s problems and such.
“ah, im just…having a hard time thinking of ideas that would appeal to my…superiors.” distaste could be heard as he finished his sentence, the thought of the vips being seen as his superiors was maddening.
“I get that, higher-ups can be a little frustrating most of the times.” you chuckled, grinding the coffee beans before continuing. “sometimes it can get a little too much, but it’s always okay to take a break, you know?”
there was an awkward silence before in-ho replied. “…sorry, i rarely go out so im not used to such conversations.” he scoffed out with a small laugh but you only nod in understanding.
"it sounds to me you're just an introvert."
"wouldn't that be bad? for people who want to be social."
"well i would say im an introvert too, why do you think i usually listen to peoples problems instead of ranting about myself? but being introverted isn't bad nor good. neither is being extroverted. it's just a personality trait. maybe they don’t like going to parties as much as extroverted people do, constantly being surrounded with laughter and commotion. maybe they would rather stay in places like cafes and libraries where they seek solace in their own comfort. and there’s nothing wrong with that, it can take time for people to socialise and when they do, it’s because they know they found the right people to do so.”
in-ho couldn’t help but smile at your words.
the two of you talked for some more minutes and in-ho got to learn some things about you such as your name and even some background on the regulars. he couldn’t help but admire your face as you focused on making his drink, you were gorgeous, intelligent and just perfect in every way.
too perfect for him to be your type.
you had a way with words, the way you’d give him advice had him hooked onto your voice, his mind pleading for you to talk more.
after he got his coffee, it didn’t take long before in-ho decided it was time to go home. “i should get going now…” he murmured. you couldn’t tell but there was a small sliver of hesitation in his voice, as if he didn’t want to leave.
“i’ll see you around maybe?”
your grin was soft and warming, causing in-ho to give you a small one of his own as he nodded.
“bye, in-ho!”
“goodbye, y/n.”
in-ho held his coffee cup as he walked out.
by the time he got home, he looked down at his cup, only to notice a phone number written on it with a smiley face.
#hwang in ho x reader#hwang in ho#squid game x reader#squid game x y/n#squid game x you#lee byung hun#squid game#squid game season 2#front man x reader#front man#in ho x reader#player 001
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i miss you, i’m sorry
lando norris x reader
summary - breakup, missed calls, and lando at your doorstep.
masterlist
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do you remember happy together?
i do, don’t you?
“hi, you’ve reached y/n! i can’t come to the phone right now but please leave me a messa-”
click. lando stares down at his phone, the daunting contact photo of you two together and happy staring back at him. mocking him. his eyes are brimmed with salty tears, his head mentally begging you to call him back.
you had broken up one month ago, pressures of life forcing the two of you to become resentful and angry, with a common thought that you would both be better off apart. after two years together he moved out of your shared apartment, giving it to you, and finding his own. but, within a week, lando had missed you too deeply to even recognize any faults near the end, just hopelessly attempting to contact you in any way. he had called you every day since then, always getting your voicemail and never having the right mind to leave one.
the boxes scattered around his apartment were just inanimate reminders of you, and how much he wished he would’ve never left. how much he wished he would have fought for you and your love, a love that hadn’t disappeared the more you two were apart, it only grew stronger.
you said ‘forever’, in the end i fought it
please, be honest, are we better for it?
thought you’d hate me, but instead you called
and said, “i miss you”
i caught it
lando fell back into the couch, his dark phone haunting him as he reminisced. what was so bad about the end? you couldn’t make a few races? he knew his love radiated and compensated for that. he could deal with missed races and conflicting schedules if it meant having you back in his life. as he sits, the slight buzzing of his phone catches him out of his trance, and your smiling face appears on his screen. quick and slightly sweating fingers slide across the screen, answering fast with a clearing of his throat.
“h-hello?” his voice slightly cracks into the phone.
“hi,” he hears you sigh from the other line, his smile finally coming back as he hears your current voice, “you called?”
“been calling,” lando tries to lighten the mood, “‘m glad you called back,”
“me too,” your soft voice is music to his ears, “i, i miss you,” your small confession was everything to lando as his full smile returned to his face for the first time since your ultimate breakup.
“miss you too, love,” he sighs out in relief, “been needin’ to hear your voice,”
“yours too,”
nothing happened in the way i wanted
every corner of this house is haunted
and i know you said that we’re not talking
but i miss you, i’m sorry
“how’ve you been?” he subtly asks, his fingers now playing with the hem of his shirt - a nervous habit he had picked up from you in your years together.
“have to admit, not that good,” he hears your giggle through his phone and his heart jumps with love, “the apartment feels too quiet without you here,”
“my new one feels too empty without you here,” lando replies, his hand runs down his face, preparing himself for his next question, “listen, i-i know you said you didn’t want to see me but-”
“come over,” your voice interrupts, already knowing what he was going to ask, “please,” your voice drops into your most vulnerable octave, and lando is already scrambling to retrieve his keys in order to head out the door to your old shared apartment, to you.
“be there in five, love,” he responds swiftly, jogging out the door in order to make it towards you faster.
everything i know brings me back to us
i don’t wanna go, we’ve been here before
everywhere i go leads me back to you
the gentle knocking at your door brings you out of your post-call fog and back into reality. he was here. the man that walked out of your life easily and then wouldn’t leave you alone to heal is here. and fuck, you were so happy to see him.
the breakup hadn’t been your first decision either, the words had just shouted out of your mouth before you could think things through in a fit of rage. and lando listened. and left. but now he’s here.
opening the door you’re faced with the man you loved, love. his bright eyes and curly hair still the same, his hoodie and joggers making him ever so soft, and the smile graced on his face was hard to miss.
“hi,” he whispers, almost afraid to scare you off.
“hi,” you whisper back, same fears in your brain as his, “come in,” you gesture to the inside of your once shared apartment, and he easily steps in, bringing a warmth that was missing to the space and making it a home again. just like that.
“wow,” he states, keeping his same quiet demeanor, “i’ve missed this place,” looking around, his eyes land on you, “i’ve missed you,”
“i’ve missed you too, lan,” you take a step towards him, “i miss you, a-and i’m sorry, for everything,”
“why are you apologizing?” he takes your hands into his own, giving them both a soft squeeze, “i should be the one apologizing, i just left when things got hard instead of working on it and figuring it out, i-”
“no no,” you cut off his ranting, “i should have never suggested a breakup, that was my fault,”
“and i should have never gone along with it, i should’ve stayed, should’ve fought,”
“you did fight, lan,” your eyes begin to gloss as you look up at him, “you called and called, i just shut you out-”
“then don’t shut me out now, give me another chance,” his pulls your hands that are in his to wrap around his neck as his own land on your waist, “please, baby, give us another chance,”
“i love you,” you whisper, “i still love you, of course i want to be with you again,” lando doesn’t hesitate, now knowing you’re on the same page as him and moves forward to capture your lips into a breathtaking kiss.
“god i’ve missed this,” he pants, forehead resting against yours, “please never break up with me again,”
“please never leave again,” you whisper back.
“wouldn’t even dream of it, baby,”
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando x you#lando x y/n#lando norris fanfic#formula 1 imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#oscar piastri#op81#lando norris icons#ln4 smut#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 mcl#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#mclaren#landoscar#landonorris#ln4 fluff#lando norris angst#formula one x reader
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ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR - LN4
↳ pt.2
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summary : You and Lando’s mind games don’t stop with the sea breeze. A day full of being Sweaty, Messy, and Drunk might just change your view on eachother.
og summary : Its the vacation of your dreams! With your best friends, rich men, live music, and flowing drinks, nothing can ruin it. Even if a certain Formula 1 driver (who seems to have an affinity for annoying you) is there every step of the sandy way.
listen up : kissing🙈 suggestive content! language! thanks for all the love on pt.1 <3 i hope this lives up to ur expectations!! pt.3 is loading…
word count : 1983
⋆。‧˚⋆
LANDO
I wake up and run.
I run on the beach, through the palm trees, up steps, and through shops. I run to the ocean, my feet stopping just before the tide.
I’m running because I woke up with a girl in my bed and my mind filled with another. She was pretty and liked me, we didn’t go all the way because she was shit drunk and i’m not a dickhead.
But I’m not bothered by my lack of a sex life, I'm bothered because I had an imaginary good one.
Y/n was there. Of course she was.
These past two days, she’s been there a lot.
Too much.
I know she doesn’t like me. Maybe that’s why I like her so much. I mean, I like messing with her. She’s annoying as hell sometimes.
But last night, she wasn’t being annoying. Probably because it was a dream and she was straddling me. I shake my head and sit on the sand, trying to forget how she felt against me in that stupid cooking class.
I get up and run again. I run to clear my mind and strengthen my body, but no matter how far or how fast, she’s always there.
⋆༺
YOU
I’ve always wanted to Jet ski. Today my dream has come true and it’s become even more magical because I'm beating Lando in a race.
“Please don’t die!” Kika yells at me from her own jet ski, holding onto Pierre.
I’m laughing so hard that my stomach hurts as I watch Lando fall off his water toy. I get closer to him, “Need help up, love?” He stares up at me, floating in his life vest as water drips down his face.
“Fuck off.” Is all he says before lifting himself back on the jetski. I immediately shut my mouth because the sight of his hard and wet body makes me go dumb. He clearly notices, “My eyes are up here, pretty.” He drives off without another word.
I pick up Alex who holds onto my vest and screams in pure happiness as we glide through the clear water. I’m having so much fun that I don’t realize everyone else has gone in, I turn back to drop off Alex who swims in while laughing. Lando is looking up at me when I leave Alex, “Let me give you a ride. I’ll show you how it’s really done.”
I want to laugh and scream ‘NO’ but I just smile, “Okay.” He grins and grabs onto the side, lifting him up to sit behind me.
“Switch with me.” As soon as his hand grips my life jacket, I take off. No way was I going to let my life be on the line with Lando driving. “Shit! Y/n!” He screams and scrambles to hold on, “Snake!” He’s holding onto me for dear life and screaming like a little girl. I’ve never had so much fun with him, even if I’m the only one smiling.
“Thief!” I yell right back at him. I hear him chuckle in my ear as we turn and see our friends on the beach. They’re jumping up and down and waving. When I lift my arms to wave back, Lando snakes his under mine, grabbing the handles and squeezing.
We take off with me not holding onto anything, “Norris!”
“Pretty!” He yells right back while mocking my voice, pressing up against me so I’m practically sitting on his lap. I have no choice but to hold onto his arms and scream.
“I hate you!” I scream as his curls brush my cheek.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” Is all he says to make me even angrier. I take his compromising position and use it as my advantage. Grinding my ass into him, he clearly is taken by surprise and lets go of the handles to grip my waist and push me forward.
I grab the handles and take control again. What I didn’t expect was his hands to stay on my hips. His skin is cold against my bikini bottoms and I can feel how big his hands are.
“You play dirty.” He says in my ear as I grin and go faster. “I do something dirty but it’s not something I play at.” And with that, I spin us so hard that his grip on my hips loosen and he goes flying.
I feel no remorse even as he floats to the surface, looking deathly and pissed. He’s breathing hard and coughs as he looks up at me, his eyes being brightened by the sun and water, “You got mean.”
“I’ve been mean.”
“It’s hot.” I narrow my eyes at his tone. What is he playing at now?
I raise a brow, my hands still on the handles, “Me throwing you off a jetski is hot?”
He just shrugs his shoulders, “We all have our preferences.”
I roll my eyes and leave him there.
My friends yelled at me when I got back to the beach, seeing Lando slowly but surely swimming in. He's alive so they’re not too mad anymore.
Our second full day is filled with sun and sand. We rented just about every water sport activity, tried sailing (which did not go well) and ended up split. I’m at the spa with Alex, Charles, Kika, and Rebecca. While Carlos, Lando, Pierre, Alex, and Lily go golfing.
I get my nails done first with Charles squirming next to me while the lady gives him a pedicure. “How do you do this!?” He whisper yells at me while the lady gives him a death stare.
I laugh, “I think I’m just used to it by now.”
He shakes his head and sits stiller as the woman starts painting his toes. He goes on his phone, holding it up and taking a selfie, catching me completely off guard, “Charles! Delete that.”
He laughs, shaking his head, “It’s just to the group chat.” I hold back my true thoughts, not telling him that I don’t want to give Lando another reason to make fun of me. But as I think about it, my phone pings with the photo and I wonder if I don’t want Lando to see me in any weird state because I care more than I think.
Nope! It’s definitely because he’ll make fun of me.
⋆༺
“You’re gonna be mad at us.” I’m sitting in my hotel room having a girls night. We have face masks and Turkish treats. I can barely look at Kika without laughing at her face mask and hair pulled up.
I take a bite of my snacks as they all start smiling weirdly, “It was the guys idea!” Lily says quickly.
Rebecca nods, “We always want to spend time with you!”
I look at Alex to break the news, “We’re having a couples day tomorrow… so you’ll be alone. And possibly stuck with-”
“Lando!?” I groan, “I’d rather spend the day alone.”
I’m not mad that they want time with their boyfriends, just annoyed that my opinion is solitude or Lando Norris.
“That’s the thing…” Kika clears her throat, “We don’t want you to get kidnapped!”
Lily nods rapidly, “And Lando agreed!” I raise a brow. So they talked to Lando before me?
Rebecca sips her soda, “So we think it’s best if you two just stick together.”
“I’m not going to get kidnapped! I’m a grown woman-”
“And very pretty and no offense darling, but not very strong.” I gape at Alex, not believing that they’re this worried about my safety. But then I think what I would do if they were in my situation…
I flop back on the bed, “If I lose him, I’m not going on a search! I’ll continue my day in peace.” Lily squeals and hugs me, I can’t help but smile at her hair getting in her face mask, “Yeah yeah you totally owe me an ice cream.”
⋆༺
LANDO
I hear Y/n tapping her foot before I see her. She’s waiting at the front of the hotel, in shorts and a yellow tank top, her bathing suit top peaking out. When she turns, her expression turns from bored to annoyed.
I put on my best smile and walk up to her, “Morning, pretty.” Her expression doesn’t change but I catch her eyes narrowing just a bit.
“You’re late.” I blink at her, not really knowing what to say. She crosses her arms, “I have a schedule.” And with that, she walks away, not turning back to see if I’m following. I have the feeling that she wants to walk away without me, but I don’t let her.
“Okay little miss organized.” I slip my hands in my shorts pockets, “What are we doing first, then?”
⋆༺
YOU
I make him hike first. For someone so athletic, you would think he would be okay while walking for a couple miles.
Wow was I wrong.
Lando’s huffing and puffing, hands on his knees and sweat on his face, “You’re trying to kill me.” I scoff when I look at him, the landscape behind him is so beautiful and I can’t believe he’s complaining.
“I thought you ran every morning.” I snatch his camera from him and snap a photo of him and the landscape.
I turn to take more as he leans against the rocks, “I do! I thought you hated exercise.”
How does he know that? “I do… But this is worth it.” He stands up straight and finally looks past me.
His breath slows and I don’t dare look back so see how close he is, “You’re right.”
I make a face and have to turn to look at him now, “I’m what now?”
He rolls his pretty green eyes and takes his camera back, facing it towards me, “Smile, pretty.” I’m still not used to the nickname, and I flip off the camera instead. He tilts his head at me, his curls damp and falling in his face, “Charming.”
I make my way down the steps, watching the world below me. Everyone looks so small, the people on the beach and in the water look like ants.
I hear Lando’s steps behind me. We walk down in silence, my feet start to hurt but I keep my mouth shut.
The moment the sand starts to show and the crystal clear water comes into view, I slow my step as Lando catches up to me.
He pulls off his shirt and grins, slipping his shoes off and shoving his camera into my arms before taking off without me, “Lando!” I scream as he runs down the beach, “Lando we have to go-”
He turns and starts running backwards, grinning at me, “We don’t have to do anything! Come on Y/n, do you want to hang out with sweaty me all day?”
I groan, mumbling to myself, “I’d rather not hang with you at all.” He just motions me to join before running towards the water.
I contemplate how mad my friends would be if I left, but the sweat on my neck makes me practically drool at the sight of the cool water. And the sight of Lando in his trunks and tan skin.
I pull my clothes off quickly and throw them down with his things, walking down the beach at a much slower pace than he did. He stands up and watches me, his shorts low on his torso and a smirk on his face.
The moment he sinks back down to the water, I dive under, my body and mind cooling off immediately.
⋆༺
The beach stop took longer than I realized and now we’re completely behind and I have a man child following me around with a camera.
“I’m going to tell someone that a creepy man is following me.”
He snaps another photo, his face pressed against his camera, “You’re so ungrateful.” He tisks, “I’m basically a professional photographer.”
“You’re basically a professional idiot.”
“I didn’t know we were in second grade.” I whip my head back at him, “Jeez come here.” He grabs my arm but I pull it away quickly and simply follow.
We walk into a bakery, it’s tiny and empty except for the woman at the register. Lando smiles politely and asks for two sandwiches, handing over his money.
“Norris, I can pay.” I try but he just ignores me.
He just sits at the window and pulls the chair next to him out for me. I sit next to him and cross my arms, looking out at the people on the streets. The woman hands us our food five cruel minutes later and I almost moan at the taste.
“Better?” Lando asks, taking a bite of his own food, “You seemed hangry.”
Everytime he flirts with me, it’s not a big deal. Sometimes I entertain it because I'm bored and he never shuts up. But this is genuinely surprising.
“Thank you.” And I mean it.
Lando raises a brow at me, “Are you being genuine? For once? For me?” He clutches his chest as if it’s the most insane thing in the world. I’m back to being annoyed. He laughs a bit to himself, “You’re very welcome, pretty.”
“Don’t get too used to it.”
He smiles, “So what else is on the schedule of our forced day together?”
I wipe my mouth, “Well you derailed my schedule with your little detour… So honestly we can do whatever!”
He taps the back of my chair, “I was hoping you’d say that.”
Lando is easily distracted and he won’t show me the google maps he’s following on his phone. He buys a new bracelet on the way and convinces me to buy a pretty jeweled necklace.
He’s so convincing that i’m worried he was a scammer in another life.
I’ve never known any of Lando’s interests. Besides driving and photography, he hasn’t mentioned anything else around me.
Or maybe he has and I just tuned him out.
So you see, that’s why I'm surprised when he takes me to throw pottery.
We sit in the back because we’re already late and apparently, Lando can’t tell time despite his million dollar watches.
The room is filled with people speaking Turkish and many groups of what look like locals.
The instructor eyes us but hands us two aprons and chunks of clay. “Have you done this before?” I whisper to Lando as he starts spinning his wheel.
“For my helmet reveal.” He whispers back, his hands slipping over the wet clay. His gaze flicks down to my dry clay staying still, “I’m assuming you haven’t?”
“I’m more of the paper and pencil type.” I screw up my face when the clay almost flies off and I press my foot down too hard.
The room is large and very open, but Lando and I are pressed up against the wall. The woman in front is talking but I'm too busy trying to get my clay to stay on the wheel.
Lando moves his hand off the clay, and relocates it to my knee, pulling my leg back softly so the pressure is less. The clay leaves a mark before he returns to his own creation.
I pretend like my heart rate didn’t rapidly go up, and ask, “What are we supposed to be making?”
Lando shrugs, his eyes still on his wheel. “No clue, let the art overtake you.” I let out a snort of a laugh as everyone turns to look at me. I see Lando holding back a smile as I apologize.
“Smooth.” He mumbles.
I lean over and squeeze extra water from the sponge onto his clay so his hands slip around and the top of his… mound? Flies off.
We’re both laughing now, I don’t know why. It’s one of those things where you start laughing and you can’t stop.
“Shut up.” I whisper as he gives me an accusatory look.
“Me? You started this!” He flicks his hand at me and water sprays onto my face. I scoff and do the same thing right back at him, a piece of clay coming from my finger and onto his cheek.
He wipes his face with his shoulder but just ends up swearing the orange clay more. I’m laughing harder because of his facial expression.
He seems even more lost and runs his hand through his hair, smearing the clay through his curls. I always cry when I laugh hard enough and today is no exception.
He takes his hands and lifts them closer to me. I flinch and scoot back in my chair which screeches against the floor.
The instructor comes to us with a stoney face, “Please keep it down and focus on your work.”
I nod as Lando mumbles an apology and we both turn back to our ‘works’. Mine is still how I started and Lando’s is now pointy.
I bite my lip and think of anything serious to keep me from laughing. But the moment Lando’s hand comes into view, I almost lose it.
I don’t look at him, just grit out, “I swear- I’ll choke you!”
I can hear the smirk in his voice, “Is that a threat of a promise?” My jaw drops and Lando takes my shock as extra time, rubbing his hand on my hair and down to my jaw and neck.
I scream and slap his hand away, smearing clay on his shirt and arm. He’s bent over with laughter, shaking his head rapidly and trying to control his volume. We both fail in the last part. “Excuse me!”
The woman is in front of us again, pointing outside as the people around stare in annoyance, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave!” We’re up and gone in seconds, not caring about our mess and how it’s getting on everything we touch.
I’m still laughing as we run down the steps, passing people and trying to get the hell away from that place. “The moment you fucking snorted, I lost it!” Lando wipes his hands on his shirt, cleaning his camera as well.
“You said some inspirational shit, How could I not!?” Lando Norris being dramatic while sitting and throwing pottery was something I’d never thought I’d see.
“The tears actually got me. Am I that funny?”
I shake my head, “No but you do have clay all over your face!” Without thinking, I push the one side of my hand that’s clean, and wipe off his face. My fingers brush the cut on his nose but only dry clay flakes off.
I rub his face over and over but the clay just won’t quit! I don’t realize he’s looking at me awkwardly until I place my hands back on my hips, “Won’t budge.” I clear my throat as he nods, “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize, pretty.”
We find ourselves in a gift shop that’s white and covered in vines and flowers. The bathroom is small so he lets me wash my hands first.
I’m looking at the sunglasses when he comes out, as clean as he could get without a change of clothes.
I try on a neon yellow pair that’s too big for my face, “What do you think?”
Lando claps his hands together, “It’s a look, for sure!” He pulls them off my face and onto his own, grabbing orange ones and replacing mine.
“You and papaya.” I roll my eyes as I look into the small mirror, “Horrible color.”
He hums, “Yet you still look good in it.”
I tilt the glasses to the bridge of my nose, “You’re such a flirt.”
He flashes me his green eyes and does the same, “You make it easy…” He steps a bit forward, “It’s fun to watch you squirm.”
“I do not squirm!” I cross my arms, scoffing.
He licks his lips, smiling, “You’re doing it right now.”
I narrow my eyes, “I can’t stand you.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “Whatever you say, pretty.”
“I tried to drown you.” I say, wondering if he’s forgotten every moment he’s hated me.
“I deserved it. Plus I had a great view of you leaving so…” I push him away, rolling my eyes and taking the glasses off.
“I hate you.” There’s no real reason behind it, I just feel the need to get something out that doesn’t cause attention to my reddening cheeks.
“Not like you did three days ago.” He’s right and I can’t stand him for it. Something about this trip, about today… has made me somewhat tolerate him.
“You should hate me.”
He puts the glasses back on the stand, “I’ve never done well with people telling me what to do.”
I pout, jutting out my bottom lip, “Right… Papaya rules?”
“Hey now- That’s too far! You can’t say shit about what I do on track until you come to a race.”
I raise a brow, “I’ve been to a race.”
“I mean wearing orange.” His tone is playful but I can tell he’s serious. His hand goes to hair, pulling something out that I know is not clay because I made sure I got it all out in the bathroom.
Just as I’m about to comment on that fact, An older woman comes up to us. She’s got gray curls that reach past her elbows and lots of jewelry, “Excuse me, I just had to tell you- you two are an adorable couple!” She has an accent but it’s not Turkish.
I’m shocked at first, then start talking, “Oh we’re-”
Before I can finish, Lando slips his arm around me so he’s holding my waist, “Thank you so much!”
The woman’s smile is warm and kind. A man, about the same age as her, approaches us and takes her hand, “Dear, are you bothering newlyweds again?” I almost choke at his words but regain my breath when she laughs.
“Oh don’t be silly, Paul. I was just complimenting them!” She looks at him with love in her eyes, swatting his chest where a camera lay. He looks like he’d hang the moon for her, “You two remind me of us, quick witted and in love- or at least we used to be quick!”
Paul kisses her cheek, “Still very much in love, though.” Lando’s hold on me softens and when I look up at him, he’s watching them softly.
“That’s…”
Lando starts to trail off so I lean into him and smile, “Lovely. And inspiring.” I feel his gaze shift to me but I keep looking at the couple, “I’m Y/n.”
“I’m Effie! And this Paul!” I get the feeling that Paul is quiet just because he likes to listen to her talk.
“Lando.” He shakes their hands as Paul looks him up and down. “You two are great. How long have you been together?”
Effie is very pleased by this, “Fifty years today! We’re here for our anniversary. How about you two?”
Lando responds quickly, “Almost a year. Took a second for her to talk to me without throwing something at me.”
Paul and Effie laugh, “Well we won’t hold you two up any longer! It’s almost sunset, going to be a beautiful one!”
“Pleasure to meet you both.” I smile, placing my hand over Lando’s, intertwining our fingers.
“Have a good night!” Effie smiles and goes to turn but is caught up by Paul looking at my fake lover.
“Hold onto her, Lando.” Is all he says before walking away.
I drop his hand the second they’re out of sight, we’re silent and I refuse to look at him. Until he clears his throat and messes around with his camera, “I need a drink.”
“I second that.”
⋆༺
LANDO
We decided to freshen up before grabbing a drink. It’s weird that we’re apart after the whole day together and that we’re both willingly getting back together tonight.
I run my hands through my hair in the mirror, looking at a nicely dressed version of myself.
I change immediately.
I land on a white, short sleeved, linen button down, and shorts. It’s too hot for anything else. I chug water as I check the time over and over again, but the clock ticks slower and slower each time.
I finally leave my room just to get some air, I feel weirdly nervous. I rarely feel nervous before dates, it’s never something I need to worry about. Not that this is a date!
This is us ending our forced day together!
It’s really hard to remember it’s not a date when I see her walk into the beach bar.
She’s wearing sandals that have a heel, her legs are tan and smooth, a baby blue dress falling right below her ass, and her hair wavy and being affected by the humidity in a weirdly good way.
Her eyes are big as she looks around for me and for a second, I want to leave. I can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that Y/n is the same girl who started cursing me out on day one.
She slides into the bar chair next to me, smiling softly. Something that used to never be aimed at me. “I almost didn’t recognize you. All fancy and not covered in clay.” I smile, that’s the attitude I know and take comfort in.
“Well you’re smiling at me right now so… I’m just as confused as you are.”
⋆༺
YOU
The sunset is gorgeous but the darkness overtakes us far too quickly. I don’t know how many drinks in I am, but Lando and I end up on the beach again.
He’s leaning back on his arms, his legs stretched out as a bottle of wine sits between us. Our glasses are long gone and I can’t remember why, but Lando’s shirt is fully unbuttoned.
I’m definitely not complaining though.
“Alright- Next race, you’re coming to McLaren!” I smile at his drunken state, “I know for a fact that everyone would love how you bully me!”
I fake innocence, “I do no such thing!”
Lando shakes his head, sipping from the bottle. I watch his adams apple and his hand grip the glass before looking back to the crashing waves in front of us.
“No use in lying. It’s just us and this magical bottle of wine.”
I push my hand in the sand, feeling the granules between my fingers. “I had fun today.”
He sits up straighter at my words, “Wow! Y/n L/n, publicly admitting she had fun with me?”
“You just said it’s just us and the wine! I’ll deny it if you tell anyone!”
He meets my eyes, sarcastically saying, “I would never betray your trust like that, pretty.”
I groan, “Stop calling me that.”
“Why?” He leans closer, leaning against his arm so he’s looking up at me instead of down like usual, “It’s like the one thing I'm serious about with you.”
His words shock me, but his tone shocks me more. It’s the first time in a while that I genuinely look at him. I look at his freckles, trace them until they disappear beneath his collared shirt. I notice how his eyes are darker now, in the moonlight and looking at me so intensely.
“Norris.” I say seriously.
He eyes me, “Uh oh… last name.”
I give him a look to which he smirks at, drawing aimlessly in the sand, “Don’t be stupid.”
“Impossible.” Lando’s flat tone makes me laugh and the wine between us reminds me why I'm so intrigued by him, “I had fun today too, Y/n. Surprisingly so.”
“Am I surprising to you?” My voice is soft as he leans in.
“Yes. I like it.” Lando’s accent is like my kryptonite and he has no clue. When I don’t say anything else, he speaks again, “I have a proposal for you.”
“I don’t like you that much, Norris.” I eye his smirk.
“Let’s have more fun, civil fun, our friends will be happy. I think today is proof that we can be within five feet of each other without hurting one another.” I raise a brow as he continues, “If you still can’t stand me by the end of this trip, I promise you’ll never have to speak to me again.”
I look down at him, at his hand and his deep, meaningful eyes. “Alright.” He grins, “No funny business. Seriousness only. A truce.”
His hand meets mine, the difference in size evident, “A truce.” He repeats my words and shakes my hand, tugging me closer. I don’t really know how it happens.
I know that one second ago I was shaking his hand and now his lips are on mine. Our hands are still together but now his other one finds my waist as if it’s muscle memory. He’s got against me, his tongue in my mouth and tasting like wine and pure adrenaline.
His breath turns heavy when my hand goes into his hair and slides across his stomach. My heart is racing as his hand goes up the side of my dress, not overstepping, just feeling my skin against his.
Lando feels perfect against me, his lips are soft but I barely notice it because our kisses turn hungry and I moan into his mouth. He’s rough and he’s hot and he’s Lando fucking Norris.
I pull back stiffly, taking in what I've done, what we’ve done.
Lando’s chest rises and falls with the waves, his words shooting out of the same mouth he just devoured me with, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Is all I can get out as he pulls back, looking out at the water with his knees to his chest. My mind is racing, my lips are tingling, and my body is on fire, “Goodnight.” I stand up and I run.
#fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris fluff#lando x you
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𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗨𝗽 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗛𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝘁𝟐
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Warnings: None
Hyung Line x Reader. Angst.
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ᗷᗩᑎGᑕᕼᗩᑎ
Days had passed, and the tension between you and Chan grew unbearable.
You had tried contacting him, but he’d buried himself in his work, refusing to answer your calls or texts, and every attempt to approach him in person was met with cold indifference.
It was as if he had sealed himself off from you completely, and the guilt gnawed at your insides like a festering wound.
It wasn’t until one late evening, when you found yourself standing outside the studio again, that you realized something had to give. You couldn’t let things end like this - not over a misunderstanding, not when you cared about him so much.
When you loved him so much.
Pushing open the door, you saw him sitting at the same desk, headphones on, eyes glued to his laptop screen. The music played softly in the background, but the atmosphere was anything but peaceful.
You cleared your throat, and when he didn’t react, you took a deep breath and spoke.
"Chan, please. We need to talk."
For a moment, you thought he was going to ignore you again, but then he pulled off his headphones and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were tired, and there were dark circles beneath them, evidence of sleepless nights.
"There’s nothing to talk about," he muttered, turning back to his screen.
“Please,” you said, your voice pleading. "Please."
He tensed, when he heard the hurt in your voice, and then sighed, pushing the chair back but not looking at you, his shoulders tense. He turned to you, his brown eyes tired and sad.
"I’m sorry," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. Afraid if you spoke any louder it might shatter.
“I didn’t realize how much you were carrying, and my words...I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t see everything you do. Because I do, baby. I see and appreciate everything."
He flinched at your words, but remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. You sniffed and wiped the tears you had so miserably failed to keep in. You missed him. Even if only for a few days it felt like eons.
“I know you’re the leader, and I know you have the weight of so much responsibility on your shoulders,” you continued, wiping your eyes, as more tears fell. “But you don’t have to do it all alone. You don’t always have to be strong. I can be strong for you too if you just ask.”
You hiccup, trying to control your shaky voice. "I want you to ask I don't want you to hurt anymore. Please...you can ask for help too. You don't always have to take everything on yourself. I only said what I said because I wanted to convey how upset I was seeing you tire yourself out, Chan-I...I don't want you to be tired anymore."
You were furiously wiping at your face, feeling like a child not able to properly convey their emotions.
“You don’t have to carry that burden by yourself. You’re not alone in this. The members, your fans, me...we’re all here for you. Please just ask us. We'll do anything for you.”
Chan's hands fidgeted in his lap. You felt the urge to run into his arms- you selfishly wanted to have him comfort you. When he was the one who needed comfort in this moment.
"I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry-" You weep. "I miss you, Channie...so much...I don't want you to be mad at me anymore. I'm sorry. I really am..."
For the first time in days, his eyes met yours, and the raw emotion swirling within them took your breath away.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice cracking, muffled by the sleeve of his sweater, which his face was buried in. “I’m scared that if I stop, everything will fall apart. That if I’m not there, something will go wrong, and it’ll be my fault. And that if I ask for help and things go wrong; you'll be to blame when you've done nothing wrong.” His voice was low and sad, and you could tell by the tightness of it he was trying to hold back tears as well.
Your heart ached as you listened to his confession, realizing just how much he had been hiding behind his calm exterior. How he took on stress to make sure any possible stressors wouldn't arise for those he loved and cared for.
"Oh, baby..."
He closed his eyes, his body trembling as the weight of his fears and insecurities finally crashed down around him.
He then looked up at your eyes that mirrored his own.
It seemed like the sadness in yours took his breath away too. Seemed like it shattered all the resolve he had left as he stood up and you launched himself into your arms, pulling him so close that your bodies would have melded together if possible.
You hiccupped out more sobs as you clung to him.
For a moment- a split second he wanted to remain angry, and he resisted -but then he collapsed against you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice muffled against your shirt. His tears wetting it. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I never mean to do that baby, I'm sorry.”
You held him tighter, tears slipping down your cheeks as you whispered, “It’s okay. I promise.”
You stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding each other in the dimly lit studio as the walls between you slowly crumbled. And in that moment, you knew that no matter how heavy the weight on his shoulders was, you would always be there to help him carry it.
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ᗰIᑎᕼO
The next morning, the air between you and Minho was still thick with tension. You had barely slept, and when you shuffled into the kitchen, you found him already there, making coffee in silence. He didn’t even look up when you entered the room.
You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. The weight of last night’s conversation hung between you like an invisible barrier, and every second that passed without him acknowledging you made the distance feel even greater.
He slid over a cup of coffee to you without as much as looking at you, and as you held the warm drink in your hands they began to tremble.
"Minho..." you began, your voice hesitant, unsure how to approach him. “Can we talk?” Your fingers tapped against the cup nervously.
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip of his coffee, his throat working, and eyes fixed on the countertop. For a moment, you wondered if he would ignore you altogether, but then, without turning, he spoke.
“What exactly do you want to talk about?” His voice was flat, and that cold edge you feared had settled firmly in place.
You bit your lip, nervousness and guilt warring inside you. “What I said last night...it came out wrong. I didn’t mean-”
“You think I’m cold,” he interrupted, finally turning to face you. His expression was unreadable, but the hurt in the brown eyes you loved so much was impossible to miss. “It’s fine. I get it. I’ve heard it before. Its nothing to take to heart.”
You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “No, you don’t get it. I don’t think you’re cold. I know you’re not.” Your fingers gripped the cup to the point your hands were hot, and you set the cup down so you wouldn't drop it.
Minho bit his lip now. “Really? Because that’s not what it sounded like last night.”
You took another step toward him, your heart aching at how distant he felt, even when you were standing right in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn't mean it al all.”
He looked away, his jaw tightening as he leaned back against the counter. “It’s not about what you said,” he muttered, his voice low as he looked at his coffee. “It’s about the fact that...maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s all people see when they look at me. Thats all they ever say so when you said it- the person I love most in this world...it made it feel...true.”
His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hear the vulnerability in his voice - the fear of being misunderstood, of being seen as something he wasn’t. Because he truly wasn't.
And suddenly, you understood how deeply your careless words had cut him.
You reached out, gently placing your hand on his arm. This time, he didn’t pull away, but his gaze remained fixed on the floor. He set his coffee down as you searched for words to say.
“Love, look at me,” you said softly, your voice trembling. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. Something sparking when he saw the shine in yours.
“You’re not cold,” you said firmly, holding his gaze. “You're - not cold at all." You swallowed the knot trying to form. "You’re kind. You’re thoughtful. You care about the people around you more than anyone realizes. And maybe you don’t always show it in the way people expect, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. I see it. All the time.” The knot was relentless and made a home there, your voice breaking slightly.
He stared at you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if your words were getting through. But then, slowly, his shoulders slumped, and the tension seemed to drain out of him. He allowed you to hold his hands.
“It’s just...hard sometimes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be any other way. I'm not cold I just...aren't feelings a precious thing? I don't know how to not be the way I am. It feels normal to be 'serious' and 'cold' like people say. I don't feel that way. I feel loved and loving. I just don't show it off in...big ways...” He swallowed. "Maybe that makes me mean and cold."
Your heart broke at his confession. You had always known Minho to be one who kept his emotions in check, one who always seemed to have everything under control. But now, standing in front of you, he seemed so vulnerable, so...human. Which you had always seen him as.
“You’re not mean or cold,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. You pursed your lips to keep yourself from crying, but it didn't work. “You’re human. It's okay to have different ways of showing emotions and letting people in. I'm sorry I made you feel that way.”
He looked at you, his eyes softening as the walls he’d built around himself began to crumble. “I forgive you, lovely. I was just being petty...I’m sorry I shut you out,” he murmured, his hand reaching up to gently touch your cheek. “I just...didn’t know how to deal with it. I don't want you to ever see me that way.”
You pouted, you bottom lip jutting out as you cried silently, your brows furrowed to try to stop yourself mid cry.
For the first time since last night, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips and Minho chuckled quietly. He moved his thumb to your lip and looked at you.
"It's going to get stuck that way, Darling." He kissed them and then pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he rested his chin on top of your head, rubbing circles on your back gently as you sniffled into his chest.
“It's okay my love,” he promised softly. “I’m sorry I scared you by ignoring you.” He said guessing the exact reason why you were crying. "Shh, it's okay. It's all going to be okay..." He cooed softly as he rocked you back in forth. "I love you. So much. I love you." He placed a soft kiss on your head, and you buried into him further earning a laugh.
In that moment, everything felt right again. The weight of the misunderstanding lifted, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the quiet understanding that, no matter how sharp his edges, you would always find a way to soften them.
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ᑕᕼᗩᑎGᗷIᑎ
The next morning, the apartment was eerily quiet. Changbin hadn’t come out of the bedroom since last night, and you had spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, unable to shake the guilt that weighed heavily on your chest.
You knew you had hurt him, but what made it worse was that you hadn’t even realized how deep his insecurities ran. Changbin was always so strong, so confident - but now, you saw the cracks in the armor he wore every day. And it hurt you that you had hurt him.
You took a deep breath, gathering your courage before walking to the bedroom door. You knocked softly, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Changbin?” you called out quietly. “Can I come in?”
There was a long pause before you heard him say, “Come in.”
When you opened the door, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. He didn’t look up when you entered, and the sight of him like that broke your heart all over again.
You sat down beside him the bed dipping, close but not touching, waiting for him to speak first since it seemed all the words left your mind.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry for last night,” he said quietly, his voice filled with exhaustion. “I overreacted.” His voice was sad and quiet and you felt the power of the initial guilt amplify tenfold.
You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill making it hard to speak. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough. That’s the last thing I would ever want to do, Binnie, please believe me.”
He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, still not looking at you. “It’s not your fault. I just...I’ve always felt like I have to prove myself, and becoming an idol made that even harder, you know? Like I have to be the best since everyone is watching now. And when you said that...it just hit me in the worst way. Because it's you.”
You nodded, understanding dawning on you. “You’ve always been hard on yourself.”
Changbin let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, maybe too hard. But I don’t know how to be any other way. I feel like if I stop, if I’m not constantly pushing myself, then...I’ll lose everything. I tried so hard to get.” His eyes met yours.
Your chest tightened at his words. You knew how much he put into his work, how much he cared about being successful, not just for himself, but for everyone around him. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing the fear and vulnerability in his voice - it was almost too much to bear.
“You won’t lose anything, let alone me.” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. You had noticed the look in his eyes and wanted him to be assured that you would never leave him. “You’re already so much more than enough, baby. You’re talented, hardworking, and you care so much about everyone around you. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Especially not me. Or the guys. Or your family. We all see how much you put in everything.”
He finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with emotion. “Sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. And when you said what you did...it felt like you were confirming it. And you're the...last person I would want to hear the from.” His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he put his forearm to his eyes. "Damn, I didn't want to cry." He mumbled. "Give me a second."
You squeezed his hand and waited for him to collect himself. Once he did you spoke, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that. I never wanted to hurt you. You mean so much to me, and I think you’re incredible just the way you are. More than I deserve, BinBin. Truly.”
Changbin’s expression softened, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing. “I know you didn’t mean it. I was just...in my head. It’s something I’ve been struggling with for a while.”
He let out a long breath, the weight of his insecurities finally surfacing. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. Especially you.”
Your heart ached at his words, and you gently cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You could never disappoint me, Changbin. I love you for who you are, not for how hard you work or how much you achieve. You’re enough, just as you are.” You look into his eyes. "You may not be perfect, but everything about you is perfect to me."
His eyes shined, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to break. But instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. You held him close, feeling his body relax against yours as the tension finally melted away.
“I’m sorry I shut you out,” he whispered against your neck. “I just didn’t know how to handle it.” His lips brushed against it softly and you felt a warmth wash over you.
You pressed a kiss to his temple just as gently, your heart swelling with love for him. “It’s okay. I'm sorry as well.”
Changbin pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I'm going to talk to you more about this stuff. I don’t want to keep shutting you out.” He kissed you again, but this time on your lips, and you felt a wetness.
You smiled softly, brushing away stray tears from his cheeks and lips. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And I mean always baby.”
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss, as if sealing the promise between you. Then moving into a slow and lazy kisses as he pulled you down onto the bed with him.
You stayed there, cuddled together and kissing until the early afternoon, everything just as perfect as the man beside you.
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ᕼYᑌᑎᒍIᑎ
The hours dragged on painfully after Hyunjin had left you standing in the kitchen. The apartment felt too big, too empty without him, and your mind kept replaying the argument over and over again, picking apart every word you had said, every hurtful implication that had slipped out.
You hadn’t meant to wound him. Whenever you had wounded him, you never did it intentionally. You loved him too much to do that.
You had only wanted to comfort him; to let him know he didn’t have to bear the weight of perfection like he thought he had to. You didn't want him to continue working himself to the bone; making himself tired trying to fit a mold that others wanted to fit him into. But instead, you had used your words to unintentionally cut deeper into the very insecurities he worked so hard to keep hidden.
It was nearing midnight when you finally heard the soft sound of the bedroom door opening. Hyunjin stepped out, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed from crying. He looked fragile, vulnerable in a way that broke your heart all over again.
“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, his voice so small it made your chest tighten with guilt.
You nodded quickly, standing up from the couch. “Of course. Of course.”
He walked over to you, sitting down on the couch beside you, though there was still a noticeable space between you. Hyunjin seemed hesitant, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his oversized sweater. He then laid his head into your lap. You hesitantly threaded your fingers through his hair, until he leaned into your touch, letting you do it freely. The silence was thick, heavy with unspoken words and raw emotions.
“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he began, his voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. I was...I was scared.”
You blinked, surprised by his confession, your hand pausing. “Scared? Of what?”
Hyunjin swallowed hard, his eyes half lidded as he spoke. “Scared that you see me the same way I see myself. Flawed. Not good enough. I’ve always had this fear...this feeling like I’ll never be able to live up to the version of me that people expect. And when you said what you did, I thought...I thought it was proof that even you felt that way. And I don't want you to feel like that about me. At all.” He whined quietly.
Tears welled up in your eyes again as you listened to him. You had known Hyunjin struggled with self-doubt- struggled with the fact that people only saw him as a pretty face- a perfect face, but hearing him lay it all out like this, so raw and vulnerable, made your heart ache for him.
“I would never think that,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand with your free one. “You’re everything to me, Hyunjin. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, or your weren't fitting the mold others want you to fit. I only said what I did because I hate seeing you push yourself so hard. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to see yourself as flawed. We all are- but how is that any different. I love you. I don't want you to be perfect- I want you to be you.”
He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with so much pain that it made your breath catch in your throat. “But what if I’m not good enough as me?”
Your heart broke at the vulnerability in his voice, and you squeezed his hand tighter, shaking your head, swallowing. “You are more than good enough, Hyunjin. You are so talented, so kind, and you work harder than anyone I’ve ever known. You don’t have to be perfect. Again, I love you for who you are, not who you think you should be.”
Hyunjin’s lower lip trembled, and for a moment, it looked like he might start crying again. But instead, he sat up, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His grip was tight, almost desperate, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”
You held him just as tightly, your own tears falling freely now. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here. You don't have to apologize Jinnie...”
For a long time, the two of you sat there in each other’s arms, the weight of the argument finally starting to lift. Hyunjin’s breathing eventually steadied, and you could feel the tension slowly draining from his body as he relaxed into your embrace.
When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still red, but there was a softness in them now, a peace that you hadn’t seen in a long time.
“I’ll try to be better,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try not to let my insecurities get the best of me.”
You smiled at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I'll try to be better with my words as well. We’ll work through our issues together. You don’t have to do this alone.” You touched his cheek and smiled.
Hyunjin nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He kissed you gently. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.
“I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much sincerity that it made your heart swell.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, your hands gently cupping his face. “More than anything.”
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@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha
@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric
@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee
@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin
@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun
@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael
@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads
@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld
@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9
@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg
@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon
@redstayrosie @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @courtnort455
@modesttiger @night-storm7 @ka0ila
@loveyouamory
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#skz imagines#skz x reader#skz stay#stray kids#skz reactions#stray kids reactions#skz fluff#skz angst#christopher bang#skz#bangchan angst#bangchan fluff#changbin#seo changbin#seo changbin angst#seo changbin fluff#changbin fluff#changbin angst#hyunjin angst#hyunjin fluff#minho fluff#lee know fluff#lee know angst#lee minho#minho angst#pnutbutternjelyy#🥜🧈🪼
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— UNCHARTED WATERS
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/01d522d809b9e6d34cc3519f75b6c292/e3c29290cc84c566-78/s540x810/0266eebd57c516375658a8e5bf44397bc952a335.jpg)
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pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader
summary: four months of keeping percy in the dark were over, you could only hope he’d understand your reasoning for keeping him there. or the one where percy finds a polaroid of luke and a girl eerily similar to his sister, donning not a lot of clothing.
warnings: suggestive content/photos, poor percy’s eyes, arguing, confrontation, makeups, hugs & motherly reader, protective percy
a/n: the end has come 😭 i’ve absolutely adored writing this series and i’m glad it’s here sad it’s here and sad it’s over.
taglist: @songofthesun @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife
part i, part ii, part iii, part iv
iv. uncharted waters
luke’s mouth was currently held hostage by your hand, tightly clamped over his as you waited for the kids to pass by. you were currently hidden behind large rocks in the pond, and half-naked. “if you lick my hand i swear i will drag you under the water, and you know i can.” you whispered to him. luke’s amusement was no where near yours, you could tell by the fact that he jabbed your side which caused you to shout.
the two campers turned at the sound of distress, eyes frantically scanning the area, before turning around and continuing their way back to camp. “that was close.” luke grinned whilst you hit him, “that was all your fault! now come on, before the sun sets.”
“why, is my girl scared of the dark? don’t worry i’m right here baby.”
“am not!”
“are too!”
“am not!”
“are too!”
“you’re so annoying luke.” the two of you made your way into the cold, clear waters. the day had been pretty busy and the idea of swimming before showering all the paint and grime was nothing but appealing to you. but your peace would only last so long around your boyfriend.
“what’s that shark movie y/n? and what does the music sound like?”
“jaws? and the sounds like, dun-a, dun-a.”
you should’ve seen it coming. luke repeated the sound, as you closed your eyes and faced the sun, he waded through the water before you looked his way. he was gone.
“luke? luke where did you—,”
you screamed as luke came up from below you, tipping you face first. “what the hell!” as much as you loved to hear luke laughing all you wanted to do was drown him. “it’s one thing to mess with me above ground, but in the water?” luke’s grin was wiped off as a wave came from behind. “wait hold on—,”
it was officially your turn to laugh as luke resurfaced, gasping for air. “not cool.” you covered your smile with both hands, “kinda cool.” you murmured as he made his way to you, hands around your waist as you looked up at him. “you think that was funny?” you meekly nodded as his hand tightened, another wrapped around your neck to draw you in.
the night was fast approaching and the two of you were currently laying on the shoreline. “i knew i brought this for something.” he whipped out the camera, “you look perfect as usual, would you do me the honour of modelling for me?” you grinned, “of course.”
luke wouldn’t stop staring at the picture, the whole way back to camp. so instead of allowing him to ogle the photo the whole night you tucked it into your jean shorts. claiming the decision to be for the greater good.
if there was one difference between you and percy, it was tidiness. he wasn’t terrible but he wasn’t as obsessive as you. so imagine his surprise when you passed out, towel, shorts and swimwear laid around. “kids these days, i tell you.” percy muttered as he picked up the clothes to be washed the next day. but as he did, a certain polaroid fluttered to the floor.
“what the?” he turned it over, and then had a heartattack.
“WHAT THE F—,”
“ow! why on earth are you shouting? and no swearing.” you groaned out loud. percy stomped his way over to you then waved the picture in your face, “what on earth is this? huh?” you snatched the picture from his hand before sitting on it, “nothing, what’re you talking about?”
percy clutched his head, before dramatically flopping down on his bed, “i think my eyes need to be rinsed.” you rolled your eyes, “stop being so silly, it’s a cute photo. just not a lot of clothes.” percy quiickly sat up, “exactly! and some guys hand tucking your hair behind your ear. i didn’t even know you were dating someone y/n, let alone taking weird photos.”
you’d been caught out, it was bound to happen sooner or later so you might as well tell him. your feet hit the floor before moving over to him, “i’m sorry i didn’t tell your perce, really. i just— i didn’t want to freak you out. i wanted you to continue getting adjusted to camp and all before i told you anything about it. it happened recently, and i didn’t mean for it to but feelings… are the one thing you can’t control. i’m sorry, i really am. and i’m so grateful i have such an amazing little brother who feels like he needs to protect me but you are my little brother. i’m eighteen, and more than capable of making my own decisions.”
percy didn’t want to understand what you were saying. he wanted to go find this guy and let riptide work it’s magic. but annoyingly enough, everything you said did make sense. “fine, i won’t go maiming tonight. i’m still mad you kept it from me, don’t you trust me?” your eyes teared up at the notion, “oh god no! i mean, yes, yes i do. i trust you with every bone in my body and that’s why i knew you’d try and hurt the poor guy. you’re so incredibly strong that you’d send him packing perce.”
percy’s lips twitched, a grin forming, “i am pretty amazing arent i?” you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “that you are brother, that you are.” he hugged you so hard that it knocked you both back onto the bed.
“i guess i won’t hunt him down today.”
“thank you percy.”
“there’s always tomorrow.” he muttered.
“no perce!” he smiled up at you before wiggling out of your arms, “who is it huh?” you covered your face before sighing, “luke.” percy’s shoulders dropped, “stuff tomorrow.” he charged out the door as you ran after him, “no wait!” coincidentally the two of you rammed right into luke, “i heard shouting, i was concerned. are you okay y/n?” you smiled as he percy huffed, “no yeah, forget about the 12 year old you pummelled over viciously. continue focusing on my sister please.”
“he knows, i told him.” luke’s eyebrows raised, the reasoning behind percy’s jabs and stare revealing itself.
“oh.”
“you’ve got ten seconds castellan.”
“for what?”
“to run.”
“what did i do?”
“that photo didn’t take itself.” percy pulled out riptide, tapping it against his other hand as you stood behind him, watching luke laugh. “he’s, he’s kidding right?” you shook your head, “he’s giving you a head start castellan, i’d advise you to take it.” luke’s smile dropped as he began to step back, “i… you’re kidding.”
“ten, nine, eight—,”
luke’s shoes collided with the floor as percy shrugged, “countings for losers.” you reached out for him but it was too late, “cheater!” luke kept looking back as you sat down infront of the cabin, you officially had two idiots to look after.
#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x you#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson and the olympians x reader#percy jackson imagine#percy jackson fic#percy jackson x reader#percy jackon and the olympians
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fuck it i love you- c. sturniolo
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1a0b4c3b4c7070170005d2360f1b8191/0163a8e4998d20e1-0e/s540x810/45a145b0f214ac26b26f8b28d41150b54147a5c9.jpg)
pairing: fratboy!chris sturniolo x academicweapon!reader
summary: you and chris were on two completely opposite sides of the college spectrum. chris loves to party and hook up, and you love to stay in and do your homework. chris would never notice someone like you…right?
warnings: language, mentions of sex, angst, fluff, chris is lowkey an asshole at first but he gets better, reader is good at poker, some typos
word count: 4.4k
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happy reading!
⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ ophelia ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚
you were never one for parties or large social gatherings in general. you are an introvert and very much a homebody, spending most of your time doing schoolwork or just lying in bed. because of this, you never made many friends as a child, and you especially never had a boyfriend.
chris was the complete opposite. chris loves parties and being around people. he can’t stand being in his house and doing nothing. since chris got to college, he spent most of his time at frat parties or hooking up with random girls. another thing about chris is that he’s never been the relationship type of guy. there was always an insane amount of girls that wanted him, but he never gave in, opting for random hookups.
you’re a sophomore in college and the only actual friend you’ve managed to make is your roommate, jasmine. she understood your introverted tendencies and respected them, but she was never afraid to urge you to get out of your comfort zone once in a while. right now, she’s trying to get you to attend a party that one of the school’s fraternities is throwing.
“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun!” jasmine begs. “i don’t like parties. i’d rather stay here and watch bridgerton.” you retort. “you’re always home and it worries me. you need actual human interaction. come on, please! i promise i won’t ask you to do anything like this again if you don’t have fun.” “i don’t know, jas.” you say skeptically. she gives you a look and you know she won’t give up until you go, so you give in. “fine.” you tell her with a roll of your eyes. she smiles and clasps her hands together. “yay! now let’s find you something to wear. i doubt you have anything, so you can borrow something of mine.” jasmine heads towards her closet and digs through until she pulls out a skintight light pink minidress. your jaw drops. “absolutely not.” “you’re wearing this y/n. it’s gonna look so good on you.” she walks over to you and throws it on your bed.
you pick it up and hold it against your body. “oh my god jas. my ass is gonna be on display!” you tell her. “don’t worry girl you have a great ass and you should show it off.” she winks. “okay the party starts in twenty minutes and we still have to get ready so come on.” jasmine leads you into the bathroom and does your hair and makeup first. she spends about half an hour on it before she finishes. you look at yourself in the mirror and gasp. “wow i look so good.” you smile at your reflection. “you’re welcome. now go get dressed.” you walk over to your bed where the dress lays and you quickly undress and throw it on, along with some clear wedges you had stuffed in the back of your closet.
jasmine finishes getting ready and she walks out of the bathroom. you both compliment each other’s looks before grabbing your purses and walking out of your dorm and towards jasmine’s car. you both get in and jasmine puts the car into drive, making her way towards the frat house.
once you both get to the party and you can hear the music thumping from outside the house. you can feel your palms begin to become sweaty and your heartbeat quicken. “jas i don’t know about this. what if something bad happens?” you ask nervously. “everything’s gonna be fine. i promise i’ll stick with you as long as you want me to, okay?” she reassures you. you slowly nod you head. you both then get out of the car and walk into the frat house. the moment you walk in, you can smell the strong scent of weed, alcohol, and sweat.
you look around and notice some people you know from your classes, all of them stoned, drunk, or both. your eyes continue to wander until you lock eyes with him. chris sturniolo. he’s easily the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. he was in your english lit class last semester and the only thing he did was show up late and extremely hungover. you can see his eyes trail down to your body and back up to your face. you roll your eyes and turn to jasmine. “we should get drinks.” you yell over the music. she nods and you both walk into the kitchen, where a vast array of drinks sit on the counter. you grab a beer out of the ice filled bucket where they sit, twist the cap off and take a drink. you look to your left and see jasmine flirting with some guy you’ve never seen before. after a few seconds, she turns to you and asks: “do you think it would be okay if i went with him? it’s totally okay if you’re not comfortable being by yourself. i’ll let him down and stay with you if you want.” you can’t help but smile at her. “it’s okay jas, i’ll be fine. i think i saw some guys playing poker and you know how much i love texas hold ‘em.” she grins and turns back to the guy and he leads her away.
you walk out of the kitchen and walk over to the table where a bunch of guys are sitting, dealing out cards. “y’all got room for one more?” you ask them. “you play?” one of the guys retorts. you nod. “yep. been playing since middle school.” “i guess we could deal you in.” he motions to one of the empty chairs. you sit as the dealer hand you the cards. you take a peek at the cards and see pocket aces. your face remains stoic as you look around at all the guys, trying to read their faces. everyone around the table checks, and so do you. the dealer puts down one card. about half of the guys fold, and a few of them raise, and of course, you match their bets. once again, everyone checks, and the dealer puts down the rest of the cards. you all then turn over all your cards, with you obviously winning. you smirk and gather all the chips to your side of the table.
before you can start the next round, chris walks over to the table. he claps one of the guys on the shoulders before his eyes find yours. he then walks up to you and you once again roll your eyes at him. “hey, what’s your name?” you ignore him and deal out the cards since it’s your turn. “c’mon don’t be like that.” he presses as he sits down next to you. you sigh and turn to him. “if i were you, i wouldn’t even bother learning my name, especially if you didn’t care to learn it last semester.” chris looks confused. “do i know you from somewhere?” you shrug. “wait,” he begins. “you’re that girl from english. the one that always asked a bunch of questions.” “guess so. do you mind? i’m in the middle of something.” you flip over the cards in front of you. “damn okay i see how it is. i’ll catch you later though.” he stands up out of the seat and you flash him a fake smile. “i hope not.” you mutter before he walks away.
you continue to play for a little while longer, surprisingly having fun. you had to admit, tonight is going a lot better than you thought it would. after winning most of the hands, you decide it’s time to head out, so you get up and say bye to the guys you were playing with. you wander through the crowd, trying to find jasmine, but she’s nowhere to be found. she must have gone home with the guy she left with earlier, so you pull out your phone and order an uber. your feet begin to ache and you spot an empty seat on a sofa, so you take a seat. you scroll on your phone for a bit before feeling the couch dip next to you. you look up and see chris sitting directly to your right. you immediately look back down at your phone, desperately wanting to avoid another conversation with him.
“you know it’s dangerous for a pretty girl like yourself to be alone at a party like this. you never know what kinda creep will try and take advantage of you.” he smirks. “i think i can handle myself, thanks.” you say back, avoiding eye contact. “hey, i’m just looking out for you, ma.” you finally turn to look at him. “don’t call me that.” “well, you never gave me your name, so…” he trails off. “you don’t need to know my name.” you say coldly. “why not?” chris tilts his head. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but i’m not gonna sleep with you so find another girl to bother.” you snap. before he can respond, your phone goes off, signaling that your uber arrived at the house. without a word, you stand up from the couch and walk towards the front door, leaving behind a very shocked chris.
once you got back to your dorm, you took off your makeup and changed into comfy clothes. the moment you lied down, you fell asleep, but couldn’t help but think about the brunette boy that managed to get under your skin so much.
a week later, you’re at the campus coffee shop, where you work. today isn’t a very busy day, just a few tired college kids in desperate need of coffee. you’re cleaning the tables near the back when you hear the bell ring, signifying that someone had walked into the shop. “welcome in.” you say out of habit. when you look up, your eyes meet chris’ blue ones. you walk behind the counter and plaster on the fakest smile you could muster. “what can i get you?” you ask, trying to get him out as fast as possible. “hey it’s you.” he smirks. “yes it’s me.” you roll your eyes. “what do you want?” “well, y/n,” he reads your name tag, “i would like a cappuccino and your number.” you scoff at his request. “absolutely not. i made it very clear at the party that i’m not interested in being one of your casual hookups.” “i promise i’d make it worth your while.” chris leans in closer to you. “okay buddy.” you say, unconvinced. “come on, y/n-” “not interested chris, either pay for your coffee or get out.” you tell him sternly. now, he rolls his eyes at you. “fine how much?” he pulls out his wallet. “$4.25.” he hands you a $5 and says: “keep the change.” you nod and begin making his drink.
once you finish making the cappuccino, you put the lid on it and hand it to him. “i’ll pull you one day, you know.” he smirks as he takes his drink. “in your dreams.” you retort. “i’ll see you around, ma.” chris yells as he walks out of the coffee shop. you continue the rest of your shift, still not being able to believe the audacity that boy has.
over the next few weeks, chris has been coming to your work, trying to get you to give him your number, and you shut him down every time. “come on, ma, i’m begging you, just one chance, please.” he all but begs you. “no chris, now go away i have customers to deal with.” you walk toward the register, taking a customer’s order. “what do you have to lose?” he questions. “my sanity.” you say putting in the person’s order. “what time do you get off?” “5:30. why?” you raise an eyebrow at his question. “i’ll pick you up and take you to dinner.” you laugh a little, “sure you will.” chris doesn’t say anything and walks out of the store.
sure enough, 5:30 rolls around and as you’re packing up your things in the back, you hear the bell ring. you walk out to the front and see chris at the door. you freeze. you really didn’t think chris would actually show up. “what the hell are you doing here?” you ask. “well, you get off at 5:30 right? i told you i’d pick you up.” he smiles, but it’s not a cocky smile or smirk, it’s a genuine smile. you let out a breath, knowing you can’t get out of it now. “one date. that’s it. you fuck up, you don’t get another chance.” you tell him sternly. he raises his hands in surrender. “i can be nice when i want, you know.” “uh huh, i’m sure. where are we going?” you both begin to walk out the door and chris holds it open, you mutter a small “thank you.” “where do you wanna go?” “ummm” you think, “how about mcdonald’s or something lowkey?” you suggest. “sounds perfect.” he replies, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you.
the car ride is relatively quiet, a few comments being made here and there, but it was mostly silent. however, it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was actually quite comfortable. you both get to the nearest mcdonald’s and order your food. it comes time to pay and you begin to pull out your card. “don’t you even dare, y/n.” chris says before you can even get your wallet out of your bag. “chris it’s really not that big of a deal.” you try to reason with him. “no y/n. i’m paying. a gentleman doesn’t make the girl pay, especially not on the first date.” he explains. “okay fine.” you relent.
the rest of the night went much smoother than you thought it would have. chris was a total gentleman and you genuinely had fun with him. at the end of the night, he drove you back to your dorm, but before you left, he asked you out on another date and you immediately said yes.
of course, you still have your reserves because of chris’ reputation around campus, but you wanted to give him a chance. you walk into your room, and see jasmine sitting on her bed. “and where have you been?” she asks. “i was out… on a date.” you say sheepishly. “a date?! with who?!” she becomes interested. “ummm i was with chris actually.” you look down at your shoes. “chris sturniolo? don’t you hate him?” she tilts her head in a confused manner. “i did, but he surprisingly isn’t that bad.” i smile at her slightly. “okay girl just be careful with him. make sure his intentions with you are good before you get too attached.” jasmine warns and you nod at her words. “of course, jas.” you walk over to your bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed.
over the next couple of weeks, you and chris have been hanging out constantly. you actually enjoy his company, and he enjoys yours. you’ve managed to learn more and more about each other. you now know that chris loves hockey, he’s a triplet with his two brothers matt and nick, and he has a dog back home named trevor. all of this new information made him seem like more of an actual person to you and not some asshole you shared one class with for a single semester.
you’re currently getting ready for a party that chris had invited you to. this was the first time you would show up to a gathering like this as a ‘couple’, and you’re a little nervous. you don’t know how people would react because you being with chris is probably the most unexpected thing to happen on campus.
just as you’re putting on your shoes, chris texts you that he’s outside. you say goodbye to jas, and as you’re walking out the door you hear her yell: “be safe! text me if you need me!” you walk over to chris’ car and see him in the driver’s seat. once you open the door, he looks over at you and his jaw drops a little. “whoa. you look amazing, y/n.” you blush a little. “thanks chris.” he smiles at you and begins to drive towards the party.
you get there and can already see drunk students stumbling out the front door, something leaning over to throw up in the bushes. chris puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt. he then gets out and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door for you. he holds his hand out, and you take it. you stand up and before chris releases your hand, he leans down presses a light kiss to your knuckles. you giggle and begin to walk inside the party.
chris puts his hand on your waist and leads you over to the couch in the middle of the room. “i’m gonna grab us some drinks?” he yells over the music. “okay! i’ll be here!” you yell back, hoping he hears you. chris nods and turns to walk towards where you assume is the kitchen.
you wait for a few minutes, think it just takes a while to actually get to the drinks because of the large crowd of people in the house. you wait a little longer before deciding to go and find chris. you walk through the house and you can hear a group of male voices.
you turn the corner and see chris talking with his frat brothers, and you can’t help but listen in. “so how’s it going with that one girl you’re seeing, the smart one?” one of them asks. “her? there’s nothing going on with her. she’s just a hookup, nothing more. she means nothing to me.” he and his friends all laugh. you immediately lose your breath. you were so stupid to believe you actually meant something to chris. you should have listened to your gut, he’s just like all the rest.
you turn on your heels and walk out of the house, needing fresh air. the moment you walk outside, you break down, tears rolling down your cheeks one after another. you pull out your phone and call jasmine, knowing she’d come pick you up. the phone rings a few times before she answers, “hello?” “jas.” you say through your tears. “y/n? what’s wrong? what happened?” she immediately becomes worried. “can you come get me? i’ll explain everything to you later i just can’t be here any longer.” “of course. stay where you are, i’ll be there in a few.” you hang up the phone and look into the distance.
you then hear your name being called. you turn your head and see chris walking towards you. you look away, knowing that if you looked at him, you’d absolutely lose it. “y/n? are you okay? why’d you come out here?” he asks, completely unaware that you overheard his cruel words. “how could you chris?” he becomes confused now. “how could i what?” “do i really mean nothing to you? is getting into my pants the only thing you want from me?” you’re fighting the urge to sob. “of course not baby. who’s telling you that?” he steps closer to you and you step back, finally meeting his eyes. “you did! i heard you talking to your friends! about how i’m nothing but a hookup!” chris’ face drops. “baby no you got it all wrong. i didn’t mean any of those things i said.” “then why would you say it?! i can’t believe i trusted you! i really thought you were different, but you’re not! you’re just like all the other douchebags on this fucking campus!” you yell in his face. “y/n please i-” “save it.” you cut him off. you see jasmine’s car pull in out of the corner of your eye. “i never wanna see you again.” you tell him before walking to jasmine’s car and getting into the passenger’s seat. she swiftly pulls out and heads towards your dorm.
“what happened y/n? what’d he do to you?” she asks, worriedly. “i overheard him talking shit about me to his friends, about how i mean nothing to him.” you sniffle. “oh babe i’m so sorry. he’s such an asshole.” she reaches her right hand over to rub your back. “i should have known. i’m so fucking stupid.” you lean forwards and put your head in your hands. “no he’s stupid for not realizing what he had.” she reassures you. “i just wanna go home and go to bed.” you say. “of course, we’re almost there.” jasmine says as she continues driving.
once you get back home, you flop onto your bed, not bothering to take your makeup or clothes off. you just lie there and stare at the ceiling, thinking about chris. you thought about how sweet he could be, but it was all just a lie to get you into his bed. it’s bittersweet. you felt so humiliated, but you were glad you found out his true intentions before it was too late. you turn over and look at your phone. there are ten missed calls and about fifty text messages from chris. you shut your phone off, not wanting to deal with him right now.
the next few days, the world seems grey. you have almost no motivation to get out of bed. after a day or so, chris stopped texting you and calling you. you assumed he had given up, until he walked into your work holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small teddy bear. you looked at him with sadness in your eyes, while chris’ eyes are filled with guilt and regret. “y/n,” he begins. “i’m so sorry for what i said. it was wrong and i promise i didn’t mean it. i just didn’t want them to shit on you for dating me. it’s okay if you don’t forgive me, but i just want you to know that i truly am sorry.” he hands you the flowers and bear. you take them hesitantly and say nothing. you nod and walk away, leaving chris behind looking broken.
chris fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you. not at the party, but the first day he walked into his english lit class. he quickly thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. he wanted to go up to you so bad, but based on the dirty glares you would shoot his way every time he walked into class late, he thought you wouldn’t be interested. when he saw you at the party, however, he couldn’t resist, he had to talk to you. he definitely expected you to turn him down, but he vowed that he wouldn’t give up until you agreed to go on at least one date with him. when you finally did, chris knew he was a goner. you were pretty, smart, and funny. you were perfect. the feelings that chris had for you scared him because he had never felt this way before. he didn’t know what to do. when his friends asked how you two were doing, he panicked. he knew you would get shit for dating him because you two are so different, so he told them you meant nothing, which was the furthest thing from the truth. however, he didn’t consider how those harsh words would affect you. the moment he walked outside and saw you crying, his heart broke. chris fucked up. badly. and he won’t stop until you know that he truly is sorry.
after your shift you go back to your dorm and set the teddy bear on your bed and put the flowers in a vase with water. suddenly, your phone dings, and it’s a text from chris: please let me explain what happened. i promise i’ll tell you everything. you stood there and thought about it before replying: meet me in front of the coffee shop in an hour. you shut your phone off and sit on your bed. you hold your head in your hands before you stand up to change into one of chris’ hoodies that you took and some sweats.
about 45 minutes go by before you’re grabbing your phone and keys and walking out of your dorm and towards the coffee shop. once you get there, you see chris standing outside. once he hears your footsteps, chris turns his head and watches you walk up to him. he smiles a bit seeing you in his hoodie, and his hopes raise just a little.
“y/n. hi.” he says nervously. you just nod at him, not knowing what to say. “look y/n, i know i fucked up. what i said was horrible and i can’t excuse that i just… you scare me.” your eyebrow raises “i scare you? why?” you question him, confused. “because you’re so perfect. you have your life together, you know what you want, and i’m just me.” he says desperately.” you’re still confused. “but that doesn’t make any sense.” chris sighs. “fuck it. y/n i’ve been in love with you for a long time, and i know i’ve never said that and maybe now isn’t the best time to tell you that, but it’s how i feel. i swear if you give me one more chance, i’ll do better. i’ll be better. just please let me prove it to you.” chris begs. you stand there, shifting your feet. you bite the inside of your cheek as you process what he just told you. “you love me? you aren’t just saying that?” you ask. chris steps towards you and cups your cheeks with his hands. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it’s honestly terrifying, but all i want is to be with you.” he looks into your eyes and you know he’s being honest. “chris.” you begin. “yes?” he asks, hopefully. “kiss me.” chris grins and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling into the kiss. you break away after a few seconds. “but if you ever pull some shit like this again, i’ll cut your dick off christopher.” he laughs out loud. “i wouldn’t expect anything less, ma.” he says before he leans down to kiss you once again.
#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo imagine#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo fluff#christopher sturniolo angst#christopher sturniolo fluff#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo
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episode five: the nina project
His confusion is adorable and you can’t help but press yet another kiss to his nose. “Wake up, honey.” “Five more minutes?” “Nancy seemed pretty alarmed–oof!” Steve’s arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest. He’s overly warm from sleep, his cologne is faint, but still it feels like home. Steve nestles against you and sighs, content. “Much better.”
Summary: you and dustin steal pancakes to spite ted wheeler, steve just wants one morning of peace, nancy takes you to a haunted house, cobwebs are surprisingly intimate to remove from someone, and vecna decides to play flashlight tag with everyone. hes so sweet :)
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: mentions of blood, panic attack, , swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n
Words: 7.2k
Before you swing in: hey gang ! i present chapter 5, aka my least favorite ep of season 4 </3 however, she was very fun to write and i enjoyed twisting some scenes together ;) enjoy, thank yall for waitin !
–
“Hey, bee.”
The line is quiet.
You sound tired, you know Jonathan will hear the exhaustion in your voice, and he’ll worry.
“I, uh. I miss you.” And you do.
You’re in the Wheeler’s kitchen, Nancy and the others are down in the basement, trying to pretend that tonight they’ll fall asleep. The reality is that you’re all too afraid to fall asleep. The terror of what could happen in the dark ensures this.
Steve sits on the counter across from you. He stares down at his hands, picks at his nails. He doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to hear whatever you have to tell Jonathan. When you demanded to call him, Steve had originally denied you. He didn’t understand why you’d want to talk to him or why you’d risk not having your walkman on after what happened with Max.
But then you’d broken down into tears and Steve gave in.
“Listen, I know we haven’t talked in a while.” To think that four days without hearing Jonathan’s voice is now considered a while saddens you. For years you couldn’t go more than a few hours without his voice. “But, um. It’s been… it’s been awful, without you.”
I could die tomorrow and I can’t remember what your hand felt like within mine.
A tear falls down your face and you wipe it away. You’re so tired of crying. “I don’t… I don’t know how much you remember, the last time we spoke. I just-I’ve had the worst week of my life and I could really use your voice right now.”
Jonathan is still the one you run to. He always will be.
The line remains quiet.
“Please, can you just… call me? I–” breath catching in your throat, you choke on the words that simmer on your tongue. “I’m really scared, bee.”
This is the first time you’ve ever spoken the words out loud. They’re whispered, they come out hushed, as if afraid someone will overhear and call you weak.
The voicemail line beeps, indicating that you’ve used up all your time to record the message. Numb, you place the phone against the wall.
Steve looks up, sensing the conversation as drawn to a close. He stands up and wraps you in his arms. You’re cold to the touch. It unnerves him. You’ve always been so warm, so full of heat. “Did he… what did Jonathan say?”
Your head drops against his chest. “He didn’t answer. Voicemail.”
“Oh.”
The silence drags on a painfully long time. You reside in Steve’s arms, seeking comfort in whatever touch you allow from him. Your headphones, which rest against your neck, dig into Steve’s uncomfortably. Clearing his throat, he taps them with his finger. “Music?”
You nod, too tired to fight him. Ever since the cemetery, Steve and Dustin have insisted that you never take your headphones off. Music is what saved Max; they’re convinced they can keep you out of harm’s reach if you listen to your favorite song as well.
“The tape, please?” You mumble softly to Steve, slowly lifting your arm to point to the kitchen table.
Understanding what you’re asking, he quickly lets go of you to retrieve it. Grabbing the old tape, his fingers find your walkman buried in your pocket. Steve puts the tape inside, eyes skimming over the writing that resides on it.
For bug.
“Will you ever tell Nancy?” He finds himself asking, unaware that the question had even been on his mind.
It was only days ago that Steve’s biggest problem had been Jonathan’s vague question of “what if”. Now he stands in Nancy’s kitchen, cradling your body, wondering just how many more hours he has left with you.
You rub your head tiredly. “I will, it’s just…”
I could be dead by tomorrow.
The words go unsaid, hanging in the air between you and Steve.
He stares down at you. Guilt twists in his chest. He’s caught between you and Nancy, between saving you and sparing you. A strand of hair falls in your eyes. Steve brushes it aside, his cracked lips press against your forehead.
“Hey,” Lucas stands awkwardly by the kitchen counter. He looks between you and Steve, a sad, yet nervous look in his eyes. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but Max told me to come get you, Y/N.”
“Is everything okay?” You ask worriedly, stepping out of Steve’s arms.
Lucas sees your worry and immediately raises his hands. “She’s fine, she’s just five seconds away from murdering Dustin. He keeps trying to turn her music all the way up and it’s hurting her ears.”
A ghost of a smile crosses your face. In his own, albeit flawed way, Dustin is trying to show how much he cares for you and Max. “I’ll talk to him.”
While Lucas nods with relief, you kiss Steve’s cheek and wish him a soft goodbye. The two boys are left alone in the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler have long since gone to bed. Holly, too.
Steve clears his throat. Lucas hasn’t left yet, and Steve doesn’t really know what to do. It’s been an exhausting few days. All he wants to focus on right now is you; already your absence makes his body weak.
“How do you do it?” Lucas is so quiet that Steve almost doesn’t hear him at first.
“What?”
“How do you do it?” Lucas asks again, this time with more urgency in his voice. He’s looking at Steve, his body stoic. There are tears in his eyes, though Steve doesn’t say anything. “How can you love Y/N and not want her to die?”
The question stuns Steve.
Lucas stares up at him and for a moment he looks like the twelve year old kid he met all those years ago. Only now he’s fifteen, taller than ever before, and he’s experienced more loss than any kid ever should.
Steve forgets, sometimes. How young they all are.
He sighs. “Look, Lucas–”
“I don’t think I can do it.” The boy leans against the counter, his entire body weight threatens to collapse. “I just, I love Max so much. And seeing her today… she almost-she almost–”
Lucas inhales suddenly. He doesn’t allow himself to cry, he doesn’t want Max to see the tear stains later. He shakes his head, instead. “What do you do, when the person you live for is already set on dying?”
Steve wants to tell him that you and Max aren’t dying. He wants to tell the teen that they’ve faced worse monsters than Vecna. They’ve escaped Russian lairs and navigated tunnels rooted with poisonous particles. They saved Will, closed a gate that was an endless abyss.
But none of it amounts to the loss they’d feel if you and Max died; Lucas is the only one who truly understands this.
So Steve doesn’t lie to him.
Instead, he says, “You hold their hand.”
And that’s all they can do.
–
Everyone takes turns watching over you and Max that night. It was Nancy’s idea, one you were entirely against.
“Max is the one who had the vision, I don’t need you guys–”
“Shut up, Y/N.”
The argument was over before it even really began. Dustin had shoved your headphones back on and turned the volume so high that you nearly winced. Steve laughed before dragging you over to the couch and forcing you to lay with him.
“I’ll be first watch for Y/N.”
Robin had rolled her eyes. “I know death is like, totally evident. But you disgust me.”
Soft laughter rippled through everyone, but soon the shadows fell and night took over. Despite your protesting and insistence that the Beatles would keep you up all night, you somehow fall asleep against Steve’s chest.
It’s the first time you’ve slept through the night in weeks.
–
You wake up to Nancy shouting at Dustin.
“Then where is she?” She exclaims, shaking his shoulders.
Still half asleep, it takes you a few moments to understand what’s going on. “Where’s who?” You ask through a yawn, rubbing your eyes.
“Max!” Nancy glares at your brother. “She isn’t down here, Dustin was supposed to keep watch.”
Your heart stops. Immediately you sit up, ignoring Steve’s groaning as you forcefully shove against his chest to stand. Even though you roughly pull from his grasp, he’s back asleep in seconds. “What do you mean she isn’t here?”
“I swear I just dozed off for like…” Dustin looks down at his watch, worried and guilty, and his face pales when he realizes what he’s done. “An hour.”
“Dustin!” You screech, now panicking as well. Before he can say anything else, you’re already running up the steps to find Max. Nancy follows close behind. “I swear to God, if she’s hurt–”
Max sits at the dining room table, head down with her headphones on. You and Nancy let out heavy sighs of relief while Dustin rolls his eyes in annoyance.
Mrs. Wheeler greets you in the kitchen. “Good morning, guys!” When she notices you holding your chest, she frowns slightly. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” Nancy breathes out, her own nerves finally settling. “Everything’s… okay.”
“Very okay.” You chime in, forcing a happy smile on your face. Pointing to the pancakes on the stove, you hum with gratitude. “Especially now that I know you’ve made your famous pancakes, Mrs. Wheeler.”
“Aw, you’re very kind, Y/N.” The woman gushes. She grabs a plate and starts piling the pancakes on. “Here, take as many as you’d like. You know, I think it’s sweet that you guys are sticking together like this.”
Mr. Wheeler flicks his newspaper with a huff. “Could try sticking together at a different house for a change.”
Nancy ignores her father and walks towards where Max is sitting. You and Dustin share a look, both of you despise the man. Shoving a pancake into your mouth, you moan dramatically. “But where else would I get such fantastic food, Ted?”
He glares at you while Mrs. Wheeler chuckles. “You know you kids are welcomed here anytime.”
“Totally, you’re like family.” Dustin smiles kindly at her before pointing to the remaining, untouched pancakes. “May I?”
Mrs. Wheeler readily offers your brother a plate and he eagerly starts stacking as much as food as he can. You grab a few more pancakes for yourself; they’ve always been your favorite. Mr. Wheeler notices you grabbing more and he narrows his eyes. “Yeah, why not? Take us for all we’re worth.”
“You heard the man.” You nod at Dustin, catching his eye.
Understanding immediately, your brother smiles even wider. “Okay!”
Together, the two of you grab the remaining stack of pancakes and throw them onto your plates. Mr. Wheeler watches in disdain, his coffee cup raised just before his mouth. Seeing the mug, you gasp. “Oh! Mrs. Wheeler, could I possibly bother you for some coffee as well? I know Mr. Wheeler really values his expensive roast, but with everything happening this week…”
You stare up at the woman, eyes wide and innocent. Mrs. Wheeler places a hand against her heart and coos at you. “Oh, of course you can have some of Ted’s coffee, honey. Let me fix it right up for you.”
“You’re too kind.” You thank her, shoving yet another pancake into your mouth. Speaking through the food, you turn to her husband. “Thanks, Ted!”
Dustin snickers while the man clenches his jaw. Satisfied, you make your way over to the table and join Max and Nancy.
“Holly let me borrow some of her crayons.” Max explains as you sit down. There are papers scattered all over the table. “We’ve been having fun all morning, right, Holly?”
The young girl hums in agreement, not looking up from her Lite Brite. “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hey, Holly.” You pinch her cheek, causing her to giggle. It’s rare to see Holly outside of the Wheeler house. You’ve babysat her a few times over the years, and she enjoys the cookies you make, but your interactions have always been limited. She seems to like you though, which pleases you. “Can I draw as well?”
Holly nods enthusiastically and quickly hands you a crayon and paper. “Here!”
“Thank you,” you accept the blue crayon and start to doodle something, keeping the girl distracted. As she colors with you, you finally look at the drawings that litter the table.
When your eyes land on them, you forget how to breathe for a moment. They’re horrible, filled with blood red. Ruined landscapes surround bodies wrapped in vines. The figures are twisted, disjointed.
“You drew these, Max?” The thought terrifies you.
“Is this what you saw last night?” Nancy asks softly, her expression mirrors your horrified one.
Max shifts uncomfortably. “It’s supposed to be. I, uh. Thought it’d be easier to draw it out than to explain it, but… not so much.”
“I’m so sorry,” you breathe out, reaching across the table to grab her hand.
Nancy touches one of the drawings, this one depicting Fred’s and Chrissy’s corpses. “Is that…?”
“It was like they were on display or something.”
You nearly gag. “Oh, my God.”
Max doesn’t look at you. “And then there was this red fog everywhere. It was like a dream. A nightmare.”
Nancy asks if Vecna could just be trying to scare her, but Max doesn’t seem sure. She explains how he originally used Billy, but last night felt different. “He seemed surprised, almost. Like he didn’t want me there.”
You frown at this. “Then that would mean Fred and Chrissy never made it to wherever you were. That Vecna didn’t take them there.”
“Maybe you infiltrated his mind.” Dustin offers as an explanation, now joining at the table. “He invaded your mind, right? Is it that big of a leap to suggest you somehow wound up in his?”
“It makes sense,” you bite your lip, abandoning the drawing you were working on with Holly.
“Like Freddie Krueger’s boiler room.” Dustin adds, oddly excited about the idea. When Holly doesn’t understand the reference, your brother readily explains. “He’s a super burned-up dude with razors for fingers.”
“Dustin,” you try to get his attention, worried he’ll frighten the kid.
But of course he continues. “And he kills you in your dreams–”
“Dustin.” It takes smacking his head to finally shut him up. He yelps in pain, cowering, but you glare at him. “You’re such an idiot sometimes.”
“She wanted to know about Freddie Krueger!”
“She’s a kid.”
“But–”
You hit Dustin’s shoulder this time. “Apologize and tell Holly that Freddie Krueger isn’t real.”
After begrudgingly apologizing to Holly and explaining that it’s all just a movie, Dustin adjusts his hat and continues the conversation from earlier. “Anyways, just think about it. What if Max somehow unlocked a backdoor to Vecna’s world?”
“You mean, like another gate?” You’re so tired of goddamn gates.
Dustin shrugs. “Possibly? Who knows, maybe the answer we’re looking for is somewhere in this incredibly vague drawing.” He stares down at the picture he’s picked up and scowls. “God, we need Will.”
“For his artistic abilities or his connection to the Upside Down?” You ask, looking around the table. “Because either way, I agree.”
Max shakes her head, annoyed. “I tried calling them again this morning, but it’s the same busy signal.”
“I wasn’t able to get through last night, either.” You admit, watching with slight curiosity as Nancy starts compiling all the drawings. “Anything catching your eye, Wheeler?”
“Is this a window?” She asks Max, who quickly says yes. “Stained glass with roses?”
Max perks up. “Yeah. See? I’m not so terrible after all.”
Sipping your coffee, you wave the mug at her, unconvinced. “Your composition could use some work.”
She glares at you, but Nancy doesn’t pay attention to any of it. Instead, she starts sorting through the drawings with vigor. “Well, it helps that I’ve seen it before.”
Before anyone can question what she means, Nancy starts folding pieces together and arranging them. At first you’re confused. You don’t understand what she’s trying to do. But as the pieces start to take shape and you recognize what she’s doing, you drop your crayon in shock.
“It’s pieces of a house.” Max realizes as well.
“Holy shit…”
Nancy grabs a marker and outlines the house’s shape. She fills in the windows, adds details that she shouldn’t know about. “Not just any house.”
She folds another drawing, careful with its edges. The drawing becomes a clock, its center the rose stained glass. Nancy drops the folded up grandfather clock in the center of the house she’s created. It lands with a quiet, yet final, thud.
Seeing the house unnerves you, and you shiver slightly. Nancy notices your unease and her eyes soften with dread. “It’s Victor Creel’s house.”
You suck in a breath and Nancy is already leaving the table. Dustin looks at you, confused, before calling out to her. “Where’re you going?”
“To wake the others.”
“I just wanted pancakes,” you mumble sadly, quickly shoving the breakfast aside so that you can follow after Nancy.
She’s already shaking Lucas awake by the time you catch up. Robin is slouched against the coffee table and you take pity on her. Nudging her softly, you ease her awake. “Hey, rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”
“Why does my neck hurt?” She groans, eyes still closed.
You laugh. “Because you decided to sleep against a table, dummy.”
“Why’d you let me do that?”
“Blame Steve, not me.” You kiss her forehead, leaving her to wake up more on her own. Nancy has finally managed to rouse Lucas, so you turn to where Steve still sleeps soundly on the couch. He looks so young when he sleeps. His delicate features aren’t clouded by the worry he always seems to carry with him.
The morning sun seeps through the only window in the basement and basks against Steve’s face. He’s a warm honey-orange in the glow, and your chest constricts in a sickly sweet way that you’ve come to love. Walking over to him slowly, you press yourself against him and litter kisses across his face.
Steve scrunches his nose, surprised by your sudden body heat. “Y/N?”
“Nancy may have connected Victor Creel and Vecna.” You tell him in lieu of good morning.
He opens his eyes, blinking a few times as he yawns. You don’t think he’s heard you, he’s never been a morning person. “What…?”
His confusion is adorable and you can’t help but press yet another kiss to his nose. “Wake up, honey.”
“Five more minutes?”
“Nancy seemed pretty alarmed–oof!” Steve’s arms wrap around you and pull you into his chest. He’s overly warm from sleep, his cologne is faint, but still it feels like home.
Steve nestles against you and sighs, content. “Much better.”
You know that Nancy will be upset you’re taking so long, you know you should be next to Max, making sure her headphones are on, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from Steve. You know you’ve asked so much from him lately; expected more from Steve than you know he’s willing to give you. And so, for now, you indulge him, risking a kiss before the others see.
Steve kisses you back; he always kisses you back. His lips move against yours, languid and slow, and for a moment everything is okay again between you.
–
“Nancy, you know I trust your judgment,” you poke your head through the trunk’s gap and find the girl’s eyes in the rearview mirror. You’re in the back of the car with Steve and Dustin while Nancy drives. “But do we really have to do this?”
“It’s the only way we’ll get answers.” She sighs, although she also looks uneasy as her car comes to a stop. Nancy parks and everyone silently gets out.
In front of you is an old, dilapidated house. Its shutters are boarded up, the blue paint has long since chipped away and rusted over. The yard before it is a mess; weeds grow everywhere and old debris litters the green. No one has touched this house in years, maybe even decades.
“The Creel house,” you murmur to yourself. The wind around you picks up, a chill hangs in the air. Every nerve inside your body stands on edge, screaming at you to run away. There’s something ominous, dangerous even, about this house.
You don’t like any part of this.
“Yeah, that’s not creepy.” Steve voices what everyone is thinking.
Max sees your discomfort and she nudges you softly. “Hey, it’s just a stupid house.”
Shame washes over you. Max shouldn’t be the one offering comfort. It should be you reassuring her, not the other way around. Swallowing thickly, you nod at the girl before following the others.
When you get closer to the house, it becomes clear that you’ll have to break in. A padlock rests against the boarded up door. Nails are rusted into its wood, sealing the horrors within the house. Steve groans. “Oh, joy.”
“I brought hammers, we can try to pry the nails out.” Nancy says, as if it’s perfectly normal to bring hammers with you to a haunted house.
“Of course you brought hammers.”
Nancy ignores you and runs back to the car, quickly returning with the tools. She hands one to Steve, who wastes no time digging into the nails and pulling them out of the wood. Nancy joins him, but it’s an achingly slow process.
“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” Steve grunts, pulling off yet another nail.
“We’re not sure,” Nancy admits, wincing slightly at a particularly difficult nail. “We just know this house is important to Vecna.”
“Sure, so let’s bring Max and Y/N to a place from Vecna’s red soup mind world.”
You flick Steve’s head, sending Nancy an apologetic frown. “He’s just upset he couldn’t sleep in today.”
“Maybe the house holds a clue to where Vecna is.” Dustin suggests. “Why he’s back, why he killed the Creels. And how to stop him before he comes back for Max, or before he tries to go after Y/N.”
“We’re stopping him before he comes back for Max.” You remind everyone, an edge in your voice.
The group is quiet for a moment. Steve and Nancy share a concerned look with one another, something unspoken passes between them. The look upsets you, but you don’t have time to care. Eventually the silence becomes too much for Lucas, and he hesitantly asks if anyone thinks Vecna is actually inside the house.
“Guess we’ll find out.” Max says, looking at you briefly. The last nail falls, and together Steve and Nancy pull the board off the doorframe. It lands with a loud thud on the porch, sending fallen leaves and dirt into the air.
You cough. “Christ.”
“Sorry, angel.” Steve looks remorseful, but you wave him off. He faces the door and twists the knob. It doesn’t budge. “Should I knock, see if anybody’s home?”
“No need,” Robin calls out, and it’s only then that you realize she’s no longer beside you but rather halfway in the front yard. She’s holding up a brick, a wicked smile on her face. “I found a key.”
“Oh dear God.” Your eyes widen. Steve tugs at your jacket as soon as Robin throws the brick. You fall against his chest, heart pounding. The stained glass shatters. Poking your head through the broken glass, you breathe out. “Nice, Robin.”
She bows. “I try.”
Steve gently pushes you aside so that he can reach his arm through the hole. He’s careful not to touch the jagged edges of the glass. Finding the knob on the other side, he twists it roughly, unlocking the door.
He’s the first to go in, and he lets out a low whistle. “Jesus.”
You follow after him, turning your flashlight on in the process. The stench of mildew is what you notice first. It’s poignant, intermixed with the scent of dust and discarded furniture. The house is filthy, covered in cobwebs; it’s practically frozen in time.
Lucas tries to turn a light on, but it’s useless. Everyone turns their flashlights on, and Steve looks around, bewildered. “Where’d everyone get those?”
Dustin turns to him and lets out a surprised huff when he realizes Steve doesn’t have anything in his hands. “Do you need to be told everything? You’re not a child.”
Steve stares at him and you roughly hit your brother’s chest. He can be such a jerk sometimes, you don’t understand where this shift has come from. “Don’t be such an asshole.”
“Thanks, Y/N.” Steve accepts the spare flashlight you hand him while Dustin rubs the spot where you hit him, tossing his bag to the ground.
You walk deeper into the house, scanning your flashlight over the furniture strewn throughout. Draped cloth covers them. A mirror stands before you, its frame a rusted gold. You find a girl in its reflection, and for a moment you almost don’t recognize that it’s you.
“Hey, guys?” Max calls out to everyone, catching your attention. She’s standing in front of something, an uneasy look on her face. “You all see that, right?”
She’s pointing her flashlight at a grandfather clock. You stumble back when you see it, breath catching. The bones in your body scream at you to run away. “Is that…?”
You can’t bring yourself to finish the question, but Max understands anyways. She nods, eyes never leaving the grandfather clock, silently confirming that it’s the one she saw in her vision.
“I don’t like this.” You turn to the group. None of you should be here, you had no right to enter the abandoned house.
“C’mon, Y/N. I mean, it’s just a clock, right?” Robin shrugs half-heartedly. Before you can stop her, she steps closer to it and wipes her hand against its glass. Dust smears away. “Just an old clock.”
Steve isn’t convinced. “Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?”
“Please don’t call him a wizard.” If you’re going to die, you’d rather it be at the hand of some dangerous, other dimensional creature. Not a wizard.
“Sorry, but what if he’s like, I don’t know. A clockmaker or something?”
Dustin breathes heavily through his nose. “I think you cracked the case, Steve.”
“All I know is that the answers are here.” Nancy looks around, not sounding as convincing as she’d like. “Somewhere.”
“You really want us to stay here?” You ask her, slight resentment in your voice. You trust Nancy, you always have, but something feels wrong about all of this. There’s this voice, screaming in your head, to get out. To leave, never return; the voice won’t leave, and you’re afraid it’ll rip your skull to pieces soon.
Nancy offers you a reassuring smile. She understands your fear, that she’s asking a lot from you and Max right now. She’s placed you in the heart of the monster that wants you to die. “Everyone will stick together, no one will be alone. We’ll stay in groups. I promise.”
“But–”
“Robin, upstairs.” Nancy instructs, pointing towards the steps for the girl to follow her. They’re gone in seconds, already off on their own adventure yet again. Your throat feels gummy with fear.
Max grabs Lucas’ hand and rushes off without another word. Steve and Dustin are left with you. They exchange words, bickering about something, though you don’t process what they’re saying. They wander off somewhere, unaware that you’re lost in your panic. Breath spiking rapidly, your muscles tense together, prepared to run. You need to leave. This isn’t safe. You’re going to die.
Light headed, you blindly fall against the stairs behind you. You’re struggling to breathe, the room spins. Desperate, your head falls towards your knees. Curling into yourself, you try to steady your breathing. You think you’re having a panic attack.
In through your nose.
Out through your mouth.
Except your breath gets stuck in your throat and blood drips from your nose. Frantic, you harshly wipe at your face, smearing the blood even more.
Your first nosebleed. Another one of the symptoms. No one can know about this.
The grandfather clock looms over you; it taunts you.
“Hey, Dustin. You there?” A voice breaks through your panicked haze. “Remember me?”
They’re familiar. You know the person, you know you do. Carefully, you lift your head up. Looking around, you try to find the source of the voice.
“Hey, if anyone’s there, I really think I might be in a bit of trouble here.”
It’s Dustin’s bag.
“Wheeler? Anybody?”
“Eddie?” You rasp, barely able to pronounce his name. Your mouth is numb, your body still stuck in its terrified state. You have to press the walkie close to your lips, too weak to say anything else.
“Henderson?” While Eddie is relieved someone answered him, he’s surprised that it’d been you. “Can you-can you get your brother? I’m kinda in deep shit.”
Your stomach twists at the anxiety in his voice. “He’s not with me.”
“Shit.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s Jason–” Static comes through, cutting off whatever Eddie is trying to tell you. “They-it’s not–”
The static intensifies. You hit the walkie, frustrated. “Hello?”
“–Boat and I think–” Eddie cuts in and out in a dizzying manner. “Here, and they’re–holes!”
“Holes?” None of what he’s saying makes any sense. “Boats? Are you-are you trying to tell me that there are holes in the boat?”
“No!” Eddie screeches, but then the broadcast goes out completely.
You stare down at the walkie, brows knit together in confusion. “What the fuck?”
But Eddie doesn’t respond. It’s quiet again.
With a huff, you toss the walkie back into Dustin’s bag and sling it over your shoulder. At the very least, the bizarre conversation with Eddie was enough to pull you out of whatever spiral you’d been in. Steve and Dustin will be looking for you soon, probably even send out a search party if you don’t follow them upstairs.
“‘The world is full of obvious things,’” Dustin’s horrible British accent greets you when you finally find him upstairs. He’s standing with Steve in a random room, though the older teen doesn’t look particularly pleased. “‘Which nobody by any chance ever observes.’”
Steve looks at your brother as if he’s grown a second head. You lean against the doorway, smiling slightly. “It’s a Sherlock Holmes quote, Steve.”
Both boys whip their heads around to face you. Dustin looks shocked, while Steve looks like he’s seconds away from strangling you. “Were you-were you alone?”
“Dude, how could you?” Dustin shoves his chest, already blaming him for abandoning you. “You know we can’t just leave her alone, she’s practically patient zero!”
Steve slaps Dustin’s hands away and reels back to yell at him, but you step between them. “Okay, first of all, I’m cursed. Not infectious. Second of all, you both wandered off without me, but I’m not a goddamn child. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah, but–”
You hold up your walkman up to Dustin’s face, shutting him up. “I also have this, in case you two idiots forgot.”
“That’s great,” Steve responds sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “That’s real great. Totally reassuring that your life rests in a walkman.”
“Take it or leave it, Harrington.”
“Actually, can we go back to you knowing Sherlock Holmes? I’m dating a nerd. That can’t be good for my image.”
Dustin snorts. He pats Steve’s chest, already walking away. “Yeah, okay, buddy. Your ‘image’.”
Steve scoffs at him and you pull the two boys away. “Stop being annoying, we’re supposed to be looking for clues or whatever the hell Nancy told us to do.”
No one argues, and the three of you split up. Dustin wanders towards one side of the room, you make sure to keep an eye on him as he looks around. You go with Steve, following him to the other side.
A vent catches Steve’s eye. He nods towards it, alerting you of it as well. You shrug, indifferent. He bends down, opening it to reveal a collection of jars with twigs and debris inside. You make a face. “Gross.”
Steve reaches inside, picking up one of the jars. He brings it closer, aiming his flashlight to illuminate its contents. When the light reveals dead spiders inside, your heart lurches fearfully. You’re fucking terrified of spiders.
And then, naturally, one begins crawling up Steve’s arm.
You scream, your fear alerting him of the insect. Steve drops the jar and quickly swats at his shoulder, stumbling backwards. He’s freaking out, so are you. You’re hitting his shoulder as you scream, stuck between wanting to help him and wanting to leave him for dead.
“Stop!” You screech, falling backwards as well.
Steve doesn’t hear you, breaking through the doorway, before the two of you collide into another body. “Woah!”
Nancy’s arm steadies you, concern etches her face. “What’s wrong?”
“There was a spider,” Steve speaks for you, panting. He knows your fear of the creature. He brushes at his jacket, as if he can still feel it crawling upon him. “It was a black widow.”
Your heartbeat is in your chest. Looking at the door you crashed through, you topple forward and slam it shut. “Fuck this room.”
“That bad, huh?” Nancy can’t hide her laugh. She feels bad that you had to experience a black widow, but your almost childish reaction amuses her.
“Fuck spiders.” Is all you can say.
Nancy starts to laugh again, but stops mid-way. “Oh, oh no.” Her hand reaches towards Steve, her fingers find his hair.
Steve flinches away, both from shock that she’s even touching him and from the idea that there’s something residing in his hair. “Is there something? Shit, okay.” He instinctively moves towards you, freaking out, but Nancy gently chides him.
“Stop moving, come here.” She stands behind him now, her fingers still in his hair. Softly tussling the strands, you watch as she gently plucks a cobweb. “I got it.”
It’s the way her voice softens when she speaks to Steve, the delicate way her fingers course through his hair as if she’s always done this. You suppose, in a way, that the delicacy comes from practiced ease. She used to do it all the time.
Unable to stop yourself, you raise your eyebrows. Something twinges in your chest. An icey, red hot feeling that you despise.
Nancy must sense that she’s upset you, because she awkwardly clears her throat and snatches her hand away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, fearful she’s crossed a line.
Steve steps away, already back by your side.
“If there’s a spider in Steve’s hair, you’re never gonna find it until it lays eggs and the babies spill out.” Robin suddenly appears, cackling at her own joke.
“What’s wrong with you?” Steve hisses at her, patting his head, now slightly paranoid.
Robin leaves just as suddenly as she arrived, her laughter echoing in the hallway. Steve looks at you, and you merely shrug. “It’s Robin, what can you expect?”
“She’s got problems.” He huffs. When Nancy agrees, Steve jumps at the opportunity to lessen the iciness he feels between you and her. He wishes things were how they used to be, back before feelings complicated everything. “It’s, uh. Cool that you and Robin are friends now.”
Nancy doesn’t say anything, and you busy yourself with running your hands over the expanse of Steve’s back. You do it because you’re worried Nancy may have missed a few cobwebs, though a part of you knows that you also do it to show her that you can. That Steve allows your touch, leans into it.
“Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world and stuff, maybe we can all go out or something?” Steve knows it’ll never happen, but he still says it anyways. It’s his way of extending friendship to Nancy, proving to her that there aren’t any hard feelings. “A long overdue double date, you know? You, me, Y/N, and Jonathan when he’s back.”
Jonathan’s name slips from Steve’s mouth before he can stop it. He knows he’s made a mistake.
You look away from him, the guilt of remembering Jonathan’s words. His dangerous reminiscing, how you still haven’t told Nancy.
And Nancy looks away because she’s reminded of her problems with Jonathan. The distance that has grown between them. How it feels like they haven’t been on the same page for a long, long time now.
“I’d-I’d like that.” You finally say, the words bitter.
Nancy nods, her own uncomfortable expression mirroring yours. “Yeah, totally.”
Neither of you sound convincing. Neither one of you can look the other in the eye. You can’t bear to look at Nancy because of the overwhelming guilt. Nancy can’t bear to look at you because you’re Jonathan’s best friend.
“We can bring Robin on the date!” Steve is desperate to break the tension. He hates it, he hates that Jonathan has created a chasm that he can’t cross. “I’m sure she’d love to join.”
Thankfully Nancy laughs. “Why would she want to third wheel?”
“Who says Robin would be the third wheel?” You say, relieved by the change in topic. “She’d be my date, obviously. Steve would be the third wheel.”
“Obviously.” Steve rolls his eyes, though there’s fondness in his voice that Nancy doesn’t miss.
You pick the last of the cobwebs off of him. Running your fingers through Steve’s hair one last time for good measure, you poke his cheek. “You’re officially cobweb free, by the way. We should probably get back to searching the house.”
“‘The obvious things are not what people observe,’” He catches your hand as it falls, squeezing it. “Or-’don’t observe’?”
Steve’s cute little frown warms you. He’s trying to impress you, quoting what your brother had only a few minutes ago. You squeeze his hand back, your cheeks warming as you smile up at him. “‘The world is full of obvious things by which nobody by any chance ever observes.’ You were close.”
“Thanks, angel. I would’ve gotten it eventually.”
“You would’ve.”
The tenderness that Nancy sees in Steve’s eyes burns. The way you’re smiling at him, the softness underneath your voice. She sees the way you squeeze the other’s hand. It makes her ache; she misses holding Jonathan’s hand.
–
You stand underneath a chandelier, its lights flickering. The sight is a familiar one. Flickering lights have become a part of your nightmares.
Max and Lucas had called everyone over to where they were. They’d found the lights that way.
“It’s the Christmas lights all over again.” You don’t know why you’re whispering, but it feels wrong not to.
Nancy nods in agreement, but Robin leans forward. “Christmas lights?”
“When Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… came to life.” Nancy explains, staring up at the way the chandelier flickers now.
“It’s how we knew he was alive.” Your chest tightens at the memory. You’ll never forget the dread you felt, realizing that Will was alive, yet trapped somewhere you could never reach.
Lucas clenches his fist. “Vecna’s here. In this house. Just on the other side.”
Steve grabs your hand, protective. He doesn’t like the idea of Vecna being so close to you. When the lights stop flickering, he pulls you closer to him, on edge. Equally as scared, you turn to Max to make sure she has her headphones nearby.
“Max, get your headphones on.” You command her, but she doesn’t listen.
“I think Venca just left the room.” Robin announces, looking at the group surrounding her.
Max frowns. “Did he hear us?”
“Can he see us?” Steve asks, hand skimming the walkman that resides in your coat pocket. Your headphones dangle from your neck. He positions himself so that if he needs to, he’ll be able to grab them as fast as possible.
“Headphones.” Lucas echoes your prior command, only this time Max doesn’t hesitate to put them on. He looks at you, too. “Y/N.”
You shake your head at him. Not yet. You’re scared that if you play your music right now, you’ll somehow miss any signs of danger for Max. You can’t be distracted, you can’t risk it.
“Everyone turn off your flashlights and spread out.” Nancy orders. There isn’t any time to argue, she recognizes that. You’ve made your choice.
Steve protests not having any lights on, and you can’t help but agree. The idea of running around the house without any sense of guidance makes you incredibly uneasy. It makes you easy targets.
But no one listens, already spreading out as Nancy told them. Steve groans, knowing you have no choice but to follow along as well. “Jesus Christ.”
“We’ll be fine.” You promise him, but Steve refuses to let go of your hand.
Robin is the first to find Vecna.
“I got him!” Her flashlight is pointed in the air, illuminating for only a second before the light dies completely. She slowly lowers it, defeated. “I… I had him.”
Then Steve’s flashlight turns on. He holds it away from him, though quickly he realizes that the light is following something. “He’s moving. I-I think he’s moving!”
Steve makes it to the top of the stairs before the light dies once more. He curses in agitation. But before he can complain, your flashlight turns on.
“He’s back,” you whisper, too afraid to raise your voice. Steve tries to snatch the flashlight from you, he doesn’t want Vecna anywhere near you, but you push him away. “He’s taking us somewhere.”
“Up here,” Max says, pointing towards a door. It’s cracked, faint light seeps through. Shoving it open, she reveals a separate staircase.
“It’s an attic,” Robin’s voice pitches an octave. “Of course it’s an attic.”
No one says anything as you make your way upstairs. Your light shines brightly, growing stronger and stronger with every step you take. Dustin tries to warn you guys that it could just be a trap, but his protests go ignored.
He’s probably right, but you’re already cursed and you have nothing to lose.
When you reach the attic, a single lightbulb hangs from the rafters. It flickers wildly, growing dimmer and stronger in stuttering patterns. Your flashlight begins to mimic the light’s pattern, before everyone else’s flashlights flicker on.
You all stand around the lightbulb, flashlights now joined together.
“Okay, what’s happening?” Steve looks around, anxious.
No one answers him. No one can answer him; but you can. The hair on your arms stands up. Static swirls around you, your body shivers at the sensation.
You’re standing where Vecna’s standing.
“He’s here.”
No one asks you how you know this.
A searing pain rips through your head. It’s so sudden, so jarring, that you can’t mask the pained sound you make. Everyone looks at you, terrified that you’re next, before the lights go haywire. The flashlights reach a burning capacity, energy exceeding their limits. One by one, they explode.
Glass flies everywhere. One piece cuts your cheek. The cut isn’t deep, it’s only a superficial wound, but Steve has your head in his hands before the blood can even begin to drip down your skin.
The lights go out. Steve tends to you in the dark.
The entire car ride back to Nancy’s, his hand never leaves yours.
-
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#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things rewrite#slowburn#angst#bdyr#m's writing#first chapter where steve and bug dont fight !!!#HOORAY !!!!
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pussydrunk manon from katseye x reader??
idol!manon x surfer!reader
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oh my days brother, just think about how much of a fiend she is when it comes to surfer!reader she met while filming the music video for “debut” in Columbia. like she leaves abruptly during her part of the MV, just so she can be between your legs. just absolutely devoting her time to you— oh and don’t you worry that won’t be the last time!
cw: obvious smut (r!receiving, cunnilingus, semi!public sex, foul mouth reader, fingering), porn with some plot, fem!reader, reader is somewhat a tan queen, reader is a Spanish speaker, not proofread
There was just something about you to Manon, it wasn’t anything extraordinary, you just happen to catch her eyes constantly, maybe it was the Columbia air, or something about you just looked so good. Even when her other members tried to snap her attention off of the beach where you stood, zipping up your wetsuit ready for another casual surf on the beach, Manon was unable to pull her gaze away.
It had been about maybe, 6 even 7 reshoots of one specific part, give or take, where she constantly messed up her part of the choreography, because she was still hung up on you. At every moment she got, she trailed your body as you came out of the sea soaking wet, your hair damp, and your skin glistening, it made her miss every single beat. Truly, it wasn’t until her leader, Sophia, had quite literally knocked her to her senses, for her to actually get her part right. It was so bad to the point Sophia had to pry Manon away from the camera’s to scold her, telling her that if she didn’t get her act up, that someone would have to eventually cut her out of the MV.
“Come on’ Manon. We are all trying here, so whatever is going on with you and the beach you keep looking at— just get it together alright? You know what, just take 5’ alright, get your thoughts together, and then we’ll call you over okay?” Sophia spoke sullenly, it was clear to Manon that her poor leader was exhausted, and it made her conclude that there was only one way to solve this issue! If she were to be able to talk to that person who’s been catching her attention for hours at this point, maybe she’ll forget about the whole ordeal and focus.
Biting the bullet, and reassuring herself that she would miss all the shots she doesn’t take, she scurried her way over towards the beach. Searching around to see your figure whom was walking out of the communal showers after getting out of your wetsuit, and your regular dry clothes, it was apparent you were about to leave. Manon, who had no intention of letting such a bronze beauty go, pounced over to you, her face lighting up when she inched ever so closely.
“Ah wait— you! You there!” She called out, pointing her hands over to you as she ran closer, of course, since you really just came here to surf, you where taken aback by such a beautiful woman strutting her way over to your vicinity. “Ay— I mean… Tú ahí! Ven aquí!” The woman spoke in her very clearly broken Spanish.
Pointing at yourself, you looked around the area to see if she was referring to anyone else, but it was mostly likely directed at you as it seemed like she was running towards you. “Ah, me? You…you’re talking to me?” Manon nodded at your inquiry when she finally caught up to you, with your surfboard still gripped in one hand, and your other equipment in one hand, you tried your best to wave back at her.
She was out of breath, like she ran a marathon, Manon let out a long winded sigh, before fixing herself up. “Oh you— you speak English!”
“Well yes, but may I ask why you’re calling for me? Did I forget something on the beach, mi meil?”
Manon, who was now dancing circles in her head, regrading her composure after being completely whipped for you, not wanting anything more, (not to be crude or anything) but to be between your legs right now. She doesn’t waste anytime, knowing that sooner or later she’d have to back on set filming the music video that quite frankly, she didn’t care about right now.
“No it’s uh, it’s not that. You’re just so stunning I couldn’t get my eyes off you for awhile now and…”
Abruptly cutting her off on that comment with a light chuckle, finding it quite humorous that’s all she had to say, but quite in awe at her lethal face card, you too, unknowingly didn’t want her to leave your sights so soon. “Well thank you so much pretty girl, I could say the some about you! So, you, your single?”
“Yea!— I mean, yes I am, why may you ask?”
“You look, interested in me? Ah I mean— sorry that may be wrong, but people here are very straightforward, so I assumed you may had intend the same.” You admitted, not wanting to come off as snarky or insensitive, but truly meaning no harm to your words. Luckily for you, Manon was an expert at picking up social cues, and somewhat understood what you were putting down.
“No your completely right, your gorgeous, I wanted to just get your number so like, I could have some way of contacting you. You catch my drift?”
See that’s how it started, it was innocent, and you hadn’t minded spending your time with a beautiful woman for a few days in a row because she could only stay in Columbia for so long. Everything was slow, until it wasn’t, from what began as a friendship turned out to be nothing but a way to relieve her stress after another day of shooting.
Manon was so sweet in the beginning, offering to bring you over to the set while she was filming, showing you the inside and outs of the music industry. Even letting you be a backgrounder for a main shot which included her and her other 5 members, always making it apparent that she wanted to be near you every waking moment. Which was both endearing and suspicious as you’ve only met her for maybe 5 days at maximum.
It was all friendly really until you offered to stay with her alone at the backstage during her one off break, where things truly took a turn. She had finished a shoot and wanted to have another lighthearted conversation with you, without all her nosy members butting in, which had lead you to be in the makeup room that was all the way in the back of the building the company she worked for rented.
Manon, who knew her time was limited with you, had grew tired of waiting for you to make the next move again, and wanted to hurry this up so she could regain into her focus once more. As you spoke about your tales at sea, and dangerous waves you conquered by sheer luck, you dismissed the way her hands slithered around your inner thigh.
You tried to wave it off like it was just your hormones talking, but sadly you were unable to deny the heaving in your chest as she brought her face closer towards yours. It wasn’t long until you were sitting on one of the vanity desk, pinning up against a mirror and Manon, kissing her lips hungrily like it was the first meal you’ve had in days. Both of your hungers consumed each other, as suddenly you allowed entrance of her tongue into your mouth, dancing with hers as fisted a bundle of her shirt.
She needed to feel every inch of you so badly, she wasn’t even trying to pry off your jeans as this point, she just swiftly slid her fingers to unbutton and unzip as best she can before gliding her fingers into your undergarments. She rubbed your bud for a bid, creating a decent amount of slick from her fingers. “Hah, you’re a lot more easy than I imagined you’d be.” Manon giggled to herself before prepping you for her fingers, slowly inserting two, in a very agonizing pace, almost as if she was teasing you.
Gripping onto her shoulders in a mix of discomfort and anticipation, she could’ve swore you were digging so far deep into her skin to either leave cute or dents from where you held yourself. She found the way you winced your eyes in pain almost like a spectacle to her, finding it more amusing as she slowly, but surely made her way into fucking both her index and middle finger into you.
The sounds of your moaning and squelching of her fingers gliding in and out of you so easy was music to her ears, she wanted to hear more, she needed to feel more. She quickened her pace at unbelievable speeds, being a dancer and singer really did something to her stamina and speed as she didn’t slow down one bit. Fucking her fingers into your delicious tightness, she didn’t know where to focus, whether it be the way your hips buckled and grinded to the rhythm of her fingers, or how your body arched more and more when you came undone. (Maybe even when your body writhed whenever you’d suck her fingers up so quickly.)
It was all too much, it would be an understatement if you said it was just good, “Yeah good girl baby, you can come.” She would whisper foul words just like that as she’d let you unravel yourself all over her digits, fucking you through your high continuously as she wanted to see how tour faced looked again while she fingered you towards your high.
But knowing her, that wasn’t enough, she needed more, to taste how delectable you were. Manon, who had the stamina of course, of a dancer, didn’t even let you calm down from your high as she slid her fingers out of you with a sharp pop, reaching over to her fingers seeing the mess you made all over her.
Putting her fingers into your mouth to muffle your quiet mewls, she brought her face down at your bud, and gave it gentle kitten licks. Loving the taste of you as you just finished, making it all the easier to taste you, as your hips buckled by the sensation of pain from the previous high, you tried connecting your thighs together to stop her from licking. To no avail as she dug her nails into your plush thighs and spreader you open once more.
It took her no time to eat you out as your gripped onto the edge of the vanity to form some sort of stability between the both of you. Grabbing her knotless boho braids, trying to pry her off of you gently, but not enough to mess up her newly done hair, knowing you’d be told off by her from how long she spent getting it done. You pleaded with her to stop as you felt tingly and it hurt a lot, and that you were sore or whatever.
“Wait— hah— Manon! Stop, I can’t—“
She had no regard for your soft feelings, her mind was absolutely drunk on the taste of your pussy, she needed every drop you could give her, and wasn’t leaving until she got what she wanted. Her tongue exploring the deeper into you, feeling like you were about to burst as she had no indication of stopping. She even went as far as to reach her hands out and cover your mouth with her index and middle finger, and rub your bud once more, letting you come undone quicker.
To her surprise it actually worked, she watched as your face twisted from sheer discomfort to immense euphoria, feeling like you where on cloud 9. The way her tongue swirled all around as she rubbed her thumb across your lower region, it was once again, all too much. Causing you to arch your back and release another wave of pleasure, this time atop her tongue.
She couldn’t believe the sight that was in front of her right now, pulling away from your sweet cum dripping cunt, she didn’t want to leave so soon. She wanted so much more, but noticing how the time flew by so quickly, she probably had maybe 2 minutes before Sophia, or maybe even Megan would burst inside and interrupt her. Finally deciding to pack it up as she left you a mess on the desk, picturing seeing you in different places with the same expression, she sighed as she spoke.
“Shit girl, you taste fucking good, I’ll meet you at your place after shooting. I can’t get enough of that.”
You nodded breathlessly at her comment before trying your best to put everything back onto your body, your legs in a complete state of soreness, comparably worse to when you first started surfing. She was amazing at what she did, and god did you both enjoy every single moment you got together before she had to go back to Korea.
god manon twin, I’m sorry if you ever have the indecency to ever see this😪 this was my most shameless moment I hope you forgive me anyways lol… i love tan!reader 😫😫
#katseye x reader#fem!reader x idol#manon x reader#manon bannerman#manon bannerman x reader#katseye smut#Manon smut#This was literally so shameless of me I cannot#female idol x reader#katseye#gxg smut#gxg imagine
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