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rinniessance · 2 years ago

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DADDY'S FAVORITE GIRL ༊*·˚ - step dad!gojo x fem!reader

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to in the summer is a new step-dad. and you do not like the dangerous glint in his eyes every time he looks at you.

꒰ warnings: nsfw - dark content - mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ non-curse au. step dad!gojo, stepcest, age difference (reader is implied to be 21, gojo is in his late 30s), dubcon, gaslighting, manipulation, cheating, heavy daddy kink, so many pet names (babygirl, pretty, doll, princess etc.), slight dacraphyllia, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, unprotected sex, virginity loss, corruption kink. plot is kinda messy 'cause i was rushing to get to the smut, sowwy ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ // word count: 5.1k ꒱ ꒰ notes: i am freely being my most disgusting self, thank you for supporting my little insane brain .ᐟ.ᐟ꒱

going away for college, the last thing you expected to come back to during summer break is a new step-dad. ever since your parents divorced when you were 14, your mom has been single – your teenage years, she dedicated herself to you, protecting you from your scumbag father, focusing on your future. you even agreed to delay your college admittance until you were 20, taking two gap years after your high school to stay at your hometown with her. your mom has the worst case of separation anxiety – which is why maybe you should’ve been more concerned when she gradually stopped texting you as the days went on. you assumed the best – maybe she found a hobby, maybe she reconnected with old friends, maybe she finally realized you are an adult and stopped babying you every waking moment. what you did not expect is for her to get married.

these are the thoughts running through you head as you stand in the middle of your living room, fresh out the airport, gawking at the man sleeping on the couch, and wonder how the fuck that happened. you would’ve honestly screamed and thought this was a squatter, or a robber, if not for all the wedding pictures obnoxiously decorating almost every available surface (god, how many photos do you need?). you try not to think too much about it – the flight was 6 hours, you barely got any sleep sitting to the smelliest man on the planet, and you just want to take a shower and go to bed. just as you start walking off, the front door swings open.

“oh my god, sweetheart, you’re home!” your mom’s voice booms through the quiet room resonating like a thunderclap in the middle of a still field. she runs to you, immediately pulling you into a hug which you happily return. you’re genuinely delighted to see her, albeit feeling a little weirded out by a man she decided to bring home. your mother looks over to the couch, man’s sleeping figure not moving once, and sighs with exasperation. “i assume he didn’t pick you up?”

“no but it’s okay…” you whisper quietly and gesture towards the figure on the couch with your head, “about that, though…”

“yeah, honey, i know, i am sorry i didn’t tell you. everything has been happening so quickly, i haven’t even had time to process it myself!” she squealed like a school girl. “his name is satoru gojo and we met at the charity event i went to six months ago.”

“since when do you attend charity events?” you ask, quirking the brow upwards.

“oh, i didn’t know what to do with myself ever since you moved out so i’ve been trying anything and everything. and look, the results have been phenomenal!” she giggled, frustration she had towards her husband about not picking you up melting away in front of your eyes. god, he really had her wrapped around his finger.

“okay, well, i am kind of tired so i wanted to go to bed. is it okay if we talk about this tomorrow?”

your mom suddenly looks down at her feet, a little embarrassed. what did she do.

“yes, about that… that room was sitting unutilized the whole time you were away so satoru and i thought it would be a good idea to remake it into a home office, kind of. your bed is still in there though! so you can sleep in the room no problem.”

“mom, what the fuck…” you whine. not only your room with all your memories and all your personality was gone and demolished, you now have to sleep in the room that was most likely used by him. “home office” my ass, you thought – your mom would not need it in a million years, and by the way she’s avoiding your gaze in shame, it was definitely not her idea.

“i’m sorry baby, but you’ve been away and…”

you interrupt her with a wave of your hand.

“whatever, i’m too tired to think about it. i’ll take a shower and go to bed, i don’t wanna deal with him until tomorrow,” you sigh with frustration and walk off into your home office, dropping your things on the floor.

what you don’t see as you walk off is the dangerous glint in satoru’s eyes as he listens to every bits of your conversation. you said the last sentence with so much poison, he thinks it might’ve struck him dead. gojo knows it will be difficult to get on your good side now but he likes to play these games on hard mode.

oh, you will be so much fun to break.

gojo satoru is a patient man – when he really wants something, he is content to wait until he gets it. that being the main reason why he approaches you slowly. it’s the next day after you arrive that he has a chance to introduce himself properly.

you leave the room after having the best night’s sleep – you really didn’t mind waking up in the office today, you must’ve been too tired to think straight and threw a fit yesterday. you make a mental note to apologize to your mom later. as you turn into the kitchen, you’re met with the view you wish did not have such a strong effect on you – your step-dad, freshly out of the shower, grey sweatpants low riding on his hips, is preparing what seems to be breakfast.

you’re so fucked.

you try to shake off the feeling of arousal washing over you. you may not have had a chance to have any sexual experiences yet, but you’re not that much of a virgin not to know when you’re feeling horny. you just wish it wasn’t due to the incredibly hot step-dad. the left-over frustration from previous night bubbles up like over spilled champagne and you decide to keep your distance. anger helps you keep yourself grounded, and you maneuver around the man to make breakfast, but you see that he prepared it for you already.

“oh, thank you,” you say quietly as he extends the plate to you.

“you’re very welcome, sweetheart.”

the nickname sends a shiver down your spine.

gojo turns to face you and gives you his breathtaking smile. you want to choke on your toast.

“i wanted to apologize for not picking you up yesterday. your mom told me so much about you, and i was excited to meet her ‘favorite girl’,” his eyes spark with a dangerous glint at the nickname, making you shrink into yourself, “but my work held me up, and then i think i went for a quick nap and… uh… ended up falling asleep,” he says with a light chuckle.

“that’s okay, i didn’t really mind the train ride,” you respond with visible discomfort,

he now stands next to you by the counter, his body heat palpable, melting over you like a scorching son. gojo’s all-teeth smile is gorgeous, frustratingly enough, but it makes your skin crawl: like a prey walking into the carefully designed trap, you can feel your gut asking you to run. it makes sense your mom fell for him so easily.

“will you let me make up for it? let’s go our for a dinner, i’m sure your mom would be delighted to hear we’re trying to get along.”

“i don’t know, i haven’t seen my friends in some time, i think i’ll be hanging out with them for a while,” you shuffle from leg to leg, trying to move away

“that’s okay, we have a whole summer ahead.”

for some reason it felt more like a threat than a promise.

you smile politely back, not knowing what to say, rushing to finish your breakfast. the image of your step-dad, half-naked in your family kitchen talking to you about his plans with you for the whole summer should be weird – it’s difficult to find it weird when the said step-dad is criminally hot, unfortunately.

“i think i’ll go now, thanks for the breakfast,” gojo’s gives you a smile so sweet, it somehow triggers a toothache, and waves you off. since yesterday, he’s been making you feel extremely on edge for no apparent reason, it’s driving you a little insane.

when you come back home that evening, you are greeted by both your mom and satoru with the dinner ready. she babbles about how great of a cook he is, and that she can’t wait until you try it. you politely decline citing that you’re full and quickly leave for your room – satoru’s blue eyes were looking at you with almost an animalistic stare, and you hated that you liked it.

gojo thought things were going well with you – he’s given you the space you need in the first two weeks after you arrived. your mom was overjoyed seeing how deeply satoru already cared about you – making sure you eat in the morning, not letting you go to bed without a meal, always checking on you throughout the day, keeping you safe. you, however, thought it was… weird, if anything, that he was all around you this intensely.

“oh, honey, that’s just how he shows that he cares. he was like that with me as well,” your mom tells you one of the nights when you bring it up. it worries you how easily she takes his side now and wonder if something else is going on.

satoru picks you up when you stay out too late, to the wee hour of the night when the subways stop running; he makes sure you have your nights with your mom, when he doesn’t intrude on your backyard conversations and only adores you pretty features from his second-floor window; he learns what movies and music and tv you like, trying to decipher the person that is you.

he’s been putting all this effort to get to know your every step – then why the fuck does he find you one night you kissing some random boy on your driveway?

you said you were going out today and no pickup was needed – now it makes sense why.

gojo satoru is a patient man. but even his patience can start running thin, trickling like water through cracks in the fingers. hourglass of his kindness has been half full for a while now – it’s about time the sand runs out.

you think a boy like him can give you what satoru can? just you wait and see.

kitchen is uncharacteristically quiet when you walk in. it’s the next morning, and usually by now, satoru would be making breakfast for you. his job is still unknown – you are not sure if he was suddenly called in but the feeling of happy solitude falls over you, even if for a moment.

your mom is gone at least for two weeks for work, you’re dreading the moment you have to be left alone with your step-dad. the look in his eyes yesterday was dangerous, a predator appraising its victim before sinking its teeth in, and you’re happy megumi was able to leave quickly after walking you home. surprisingly, gojo didn’t say you a word when you walked into the house, silently sitting in front of the tv like he didn’t just spy through the window on your kiss with the boy.

air in the room was heavy with tension – you knew satoru was avoiding looking your way, jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. instinctively, you wanted to break the silence, say something to discharge the electricity jumping through the atoms of your stuffy living room air, but ultimately decided against it. you have nothing to say to a man, and it’s not like you needed to justify your actions in front of him anyways. you quickly retreated into the office and avoided him until you fell asleep.

when you woke up to an empty apartment not even fifteen minutes ago, you felt relief. walking into the kitchen and confirming your presence alone, you even felt happy. then what is this weird feeling, almost as if you are missing something, nagging at you? you thought of going out today but now a strange desire to stay at home washes over.

you make breakfast for the first time since you came home (gojo didn’t skip a single day, you have no idea how he kept up with that), and you chastise yourself for feeling weird about cooking for yourself; and you chastise yourself again when your mind lingers on the thoughts of a certain white-haired man; and again when you look at your phone, convincing yourself it’s a bad idea to text him. god, you feel so stupid. didn’t you want him to stop being so unsettlingly sweet and dotting around you all the time?

conflicted by your irrationality once again, you frustratingly take your plate and sit down on the couch. flipping through the netlifx previews, you land on something to distract your mind by. you settle on some true crime documentary and let the horrors on the screen consume you, abandoning for a moment the thoughts plaguing your head.

you’ve been glued to the screen for at least two hours before you heard the jiggle of the keys. like an eager puppy, you waited for gojo to come inside and greet you like he would every day – only for him to completely ignore your presence, beelining straight for the kitchen. turning your head back to the tv, you try your best not to pay any attention to the uncharacteristic behavior from satoru’s end.

“i will be in the home office the whole day, don’t enter.”

before you can respond anything back, your step-dad is already walking off without sparing you a second glance. is he still upset from yesterday? you didn’t think kissing megumi would be that much of a deal. your nervously play with the hem of the blanket, show playing on tv long forgotten, contemplating what you should do next. why are you bothered by his silence this much anyways?

rethinking your earlier choice, you send a quick text to your friend asking to meet you for drinks. maybe right now gojo needs space, or whatever, and leaving him alone is the best next thing right now. you knock at the door of the home office.

“sorry, i am going out now and need to quickly change.”

not even 5 seconds pass before the door is swung open by a man that’s been occupying too much of your mental space today.

“be quick,” is the only response you get before he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. you’re perplexed by this sudden change in behavior yet again. throwing on the first decent outfit you can find, you let gojo know that you’re done and will be home later; hum is the only acknowledgment you get before he disappears in the office.

exiling all the thoughts of satoru gojo from your head, you leave your house, hoping tomorrow will put all the pieces of the puzzle back together.

yet the next day comes, and you still wake up to no warmth from satoru – it felt as if he built a wall between the two of you in one night’s span, impossible to be breached. should you talk to him? should you apologize? and apologize for what? you didn’t do anything wrong, did you? ignoring the gnawing feeling inside once more, you retreat to the living room, sulking on the couch until the end of the day, clawing onto the hope gojo of tomorrow will acknowledge your existence.

“did i do something wrong?”

you stand in the doorway to gojo’s office, arms crossed over your chest. he lazily turns his head your way as if giving you even a second of his time is too much of a bother – the look he sends you is burning through your core, making you pathetically weak and wet.

“no,” he starts slowly, “do you think you did something wrong?”

“i don’t know! that’s why i’m asking. you’ve been ignoring me for the past week, and it’s getting weird.”

“i thought i’d leave you alone, it seems you’re capable of having fun on your own.”

satoru is looking back to his screen now, and you scrunch your eyebrows, frustrated by the riddles he’s throwing your way. walking inside the room, your close the door on instinct and take wide steps to stand in front of him.

“stop answering me like this, we’re not playing a charade. what do you mean?” the demand in your voice is clear, and it twists something inside satoru – his gaze falls on you again yet this time it’s dark, taunting, dangerous, with a hint of chaos. it scares and excites you.

gojo suddenly stands up, and pushes you into his desk until you’re sitting on it. he is tall – your mom basically married a giant – and you try to curl into yourself to escape his malicious eyes.

“what, i thought you wanted me to leave your alone? you want my attention now all of a sudden?” he respond with the question of his own in a mocking tone.

“i never said i wanted you to ignore me…” you answer meekly, yelping slightly as your back hits his desk – you suddenly realize there is nowhere to run now.

“really? we’ve been together in a house for almost a month now, and yet you showed no interest in getting to know me.”

“’m sorry…” you cannot think of anything else to say. gojo moves even closer, and is now towering over you – it makes you embarrassingly horny.

“show me how sorry you are.”

before you can respond, he is caging your body with his and capturing your lips in a kiss, and you freeze – all of this is so wrong, you cannot bring yourself to start moving your mouth against his. gojo’s tongue coerces its way inside, exploring the undiscovered paths, his teeth biting your still lips. closing your eyes, you whimper and try to push him away but he only catches your wrists with his one hand, while the other plays with the hem of your shorts. a gasp escapes your lips, and you push yourself further into the desk, squirming under gojo’s body.

“what, you don’t like it? i thought my little girl wanted daddy’s attention?” he torments you, voice condescending and thick with mockery. all you can muster is a pathetic mewl, words lost somewhere inside your throat, and dig your fingers into the edge of your desk as your step-dad forces his digits inside your panties, lightly brushing against your clit.

“god, you’re already so wet, so filthy,” he whispers between the heated kisses as the pads of his fingers keep teasing your pussy. “tell me, babygirl, are you still a virgin? gotta know how to treat you.”

“y-yes…”

“well, am i just not the luckiest?” gojo chuckles darkly, spreading your legs with his thigh. unoccupied hand goes to grip your hip while the fingers on the other are still working your clit, sliding the digits between your puffy lips, teasing your hole. every time he circles around the entrance and mocks by pushing his finger just slightly inside, the moan builds up in your throat, and you’re too embarrassed to let it out.

“common, baby, your daddy wants to hear you, don’t hide your pretty voice from me.”

gojo is infuriatingly good with his fingers – you could never bring yourself this much pleasure from playing with your clit, and your defiance starts melting away as you find yourself bucking your hips into his hand, whining pitifully. the man completely removes your shorts and underwear, shoving the latter into his pocket – something to remember this moment by.

“god, such a pretty pussy, i can’t believe you’ve been hiding it from me. take off your shirt so i can see all of you, princess.”

immense desire pools between your legs, hunger and lust evident in satoru’s cerulean eyes, now hidden by dilated pupils, and you’re surrendering yourself to him – want makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong. you remove the top, nipples perked and waiting. gojo looks at you in wonder and disbelief – all of that for him? his hand went to squeeze your boob almost on an instinct, rolling the nipple between the pads of his fingers, while sucking on another with his mouth. you drop your head back, losing yourself to the intense pleasure your step-dad’s giving you. seeing as you’re distracted by him playing with your tits, he takes this as his chance to shove two of his fingers inside.

a strangled moan leaves your lips, your hands gripping man’s shoulders.

“ahhh, that hurts, satoru.”

“nah-uh, that’s not what i want to hear you calling me,” he straightens himself and starts scissoring you with his digits. the initial intrusion is painful, you can feel your virgin walls stretching to accommodate for how he’s dragging the fingers in and out, yet the burn is woefully delightful, and you’re getting lost again.

“’m sorry daddy.”

gojo only chuckles – god, you were easier than he expected, so well-behaved and pliable under him.

“that’s right, let daddy take good care of you.”

he speeds up the pace, curling his slender, pretty fingers, brushing the spots you were never able to reach with your own. wet, soggy sounds fill the entirety of the room, air already stuffy with smell of sex as he continues to finger-fuck your pussy. gojo could feel his cock twitching in his pants, he wanted to take you right there and then, but he was determined to make you cum on his digits first – it prompts him to attach his lips to your neck, sucking on the sensitive spot below your jawline, marking you as his.

your mewling turns louder, breathing is getting labored, and it seems your hips have a mind of their own now as they are bucking into satoru’s movements, fucking yourself how you need it. something akin to orgasm starts building up in your tummy – it has never felt this all-consuming, you wonder if you’ve been touching yourself wrong all this time.

“daddy, please don’t – ah! – stop,” is everything you can say in a measly attempt to ask him to speed up. his thumb finds your neglected clit, rubbing tight circles around your bundle of nerves, and picks up the pace, cunt now clenching even tighter around his two fingers, and gojo groans thinking how you’d feel around his aching dick. he adds a third finger – it’s angled so perfectly assault your special spongy spot, it turns your brain into a mush.

gojo pinches your nipple, kissing you to swallow all the lewd moans to himself.

“is my princess close?”

“yes daddy, ‘m so close.”

“common, cum all over my fingers, baby.”

these words finally push you over the edge – your climax washes over you like a cold morning shower, leaving you trembling in gojo’s hold. your legs are trying to close to stop the man from continuing his abuse on your twitching pussy but he is too lost in the feeling of your walls constricting around his fingers to allow you to do that. he fucks you through your orgasm, bringing you to the realm of overstimulation.

“ahh, daddy, please, it hurts now,” you whine with teary voice, beads of salty water gathering in the corners of your eyes.

“shhhh, daddy knows best, yeah? let me feel you a little longer.”

gojo keeps his pace until you’re clawing at his arm, trying to pull away your pussy from his fingers. he grabs you by the back of your head, bruising your lips with the intensity of his kiss – you’re sure he draws blood by how he bites your lower lip, licking the messy aftermath. you’re still whining and mewling, trails of tears finally flowing down your face, and he’s sure he’s never seen anything hotter as he licks the salty tracks.

“you’ve done so good, babygirl, i think you’re ready for the main gift,” satoru says and finally withdraws his fingers. the emptiness is welcoming yet disappointing, and you groan. gojo quickly unbuckles his pants and shoves them down, alongside his boxer briefs, and you almost choke on your spit when you see how well-endowed he is. you don’t have a lot to compare it to but you think his cock is beautiful – it's long and slender, and uncut, prominent vein running all the way from the base to just underside of his head, and you get an immeasurable desire to run your tongue along it.

“is my pretty doll drooling jus’ at the sight of my dick?” he mockingly asks you, making you turn your gaze away. gojo chuckles again, and grabs you by your chin, pulling your head down.

“no looking away, darling, i want you to see how i take your virginity.”

with no other option, you keep your gaze peeled downwards, to where gojo strokes himself couple of times before lining himself up with your leaking hole. despite all the preparation and your previous orgasm, you’re still incredibly tight and satoru groans as he starts pushing himself inside. you can see his smooth cockhead bullying his way into you, stretching your greedy walls – man feels you pulsating around him, and that makes him twitch.

“fuck, princess, you’re so tight, feels so good.”

gojo finally sinks all the way in, your cervix being met in a kiss by a swollen tip, and you moan, sound almost pornographic. your step-dad doesn’t let you adjust before he pulls out almost all the way before sliding back in – he doesn’t go easy on you for your first time, setting up a brutal pace, not caring if you’re ready to take him fully yet. it stings, and you have to hold yourself on gojo’s shoulder’s as he starts fucking into you. his hands are on your hips, guiding them to meet his thrusts.

“daddy please, ‘ts too much,” you cry out but satoru is all too lost in how your gummy walls perfectly hug his swollen cock. he doesn’t respond, shutting you up by forcing his tongue into his mouth yet again, sucking on every piece of available flesh. slowly, the tension in your body melts away and gives way to a new kind of pressure – the one building up in your tummy. you’re shocked at how fast your body is able to start getting on the road to blissful ecstasy again but you’re not complaining.

“shit, are you getting close already, babygirl? i can feel your pretty pussy squeezing me again.”

“yes, sorry daddy.”

“there is nothing to be sorry about, just means your daddy’s doing a good job,” he says with a grin, keeping up the pace, rutting into your sloppy cunt. queefing sounds and slapping of skin on skin make you blush furiously yet you can’t take away your gaze from where satoru keeps burying himself inside you.

the girth of gojo’s cock is deadly – not only he’s able to reach the spongy spot almost immediately, making white spots dancing across your vision, kaleidoscope of pleasure lighting up your every nerve ending, he is also bruising your cervix just with enough pressure to make you twitch in delight. his pubic bone grinds against your puffy clit and it’s setting up fireworks against your skin, hot molten lava igniting your whole being.

your moaning becomes uncontrollable as satoru’s fucking you in an animalistic pace – he keeps splitting you open, the spread of legs is slowly growing uncomfortable.

“look how good you’re taking me, being such a good girl for me,” he’s babbling, edging himself too – he wants to feel you spasming around his cock, he cannot let himself cum before that. “gonna feel so good cumming inside, pretty. give you a cute little brother or sister, huh? what do you think? i bet you’ll look so gorgeous being pregnant with my baby.”

“no, daddy, you can’t do that…”

“hm, why? just imagine, you walking around, with my child inside your belly, all cute and swollen for me, tits full of milk. wouldn’t you want that?”

you hiccup a sob as gojo keeps dragging his heavy cock in and out of you, the vein you saw before pressing against your walls deliciously, and you feel your toes start to curl as your body chases after the second orgasm. you dig your nails into his biceps, certain to leave half moon marks on his porcelain skin, and bite your lip. in turn, he is pressing his fingers against the plum skin of your hips, marking you with bruises to remind you of this tomorrow.

“shit, i haven’t fucked your cunny for that long yet it’s already perfectly snuggled around me. i’m training it fast, huh? i’m gonna teach it to fit only me,” you can hear the grin in his voice as he says that.

gojo feels your walls tighten around him – he can see you’re teetering on the edge of climax, whining and moaning under the man, letting him completely use you – so he picks up the speed, assaulting your abused pussy. it doesn’t take longer than that for the tension in your tummy to snap, and you’re wantonly crying out satoru’s name.

“fuck, dollface, you’re squeezing me so perfectly right now. want to milk me for all i’ve got?”

you’re cock drunk, unable to respond to him, hoping your mewling will be enough for the man to see he fucked you stupid. he is not showing signs of slowing down – you can only continue whining as satoru chases after his own pleasure. he pistons his hips couple of times more, and you can feel him throbbing inside as he shoots creamy ropes of cum inside you, painting your womb white. the ring of mixed fluids at the bottom of his cock drives him insane, and he continues fucking his cum into you.

“shit baby, can’t waste a single drop now, can we.”

you’re letting out a quiet sob, pleasure too overwhelming and almost feverish, still unable to find your voice. when he deems it satisfactory that his seed is all warm inside you, gojo finally pulls out and kisses the top of your head.

“i’d say this was a good practice run, what do you say? your mom only comes back in a week, i’ll make you my personal cumdump until then.”

you snap your head up at his words, the smile playing on your step-dad’s face borderline sinister. you think it’s supposed to make you scared, then why is your pussy already twitching around nothing?

“yes daddy, anything for you.”

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midnightquips · 2 months ago

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Chaos

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are involved in a friends with benefits situation. But when feelings start to creep in, you’re not quite sure if this situation is the best for you anymore.

Themes: Mutual Pining, Damaged lead TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of Suicide,Mentions of alcoholism, Mentions of Sex,Slight Smut, Friends With Benefits, Sexual Content, LanguageSmut Author Note: This is one of my works from AO3 from 6 years ago. I've always loved this and have only posted it as a one shot. I've had the other chapters in the drafts but have never proceeded to post them. Sharing it here maybe to pick up inspiration on it again to continue it and maybe flesh it out.

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Chaos

"Happy Birthday, Y/N."

You look at the small box Bucky handed to you, unsure of how you would react. Your other hand tightens the grip on the blanket wrapped across your chest as he looks at you pensively. This was not normal post-coital procedure for you and Bucky.

Although you have been sleeping together the past few months, you had made sure to keep things casual. Bucky never shared too much about his past, and you thought this was preferable because it didn’t require you to do so as well.

Gifts were definitely a no-no. Sentiments were dangerous. Suddenly, you were worried. Was it only you who had been keeping the illusion of casual?

"How did you know?" your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"You mentioned it last time when you were drunk."

You blush at the memory from two weeks ago when you had accidentally called him after drinking too much at the local bar.

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

You stare at the box again. You hadn't received a gift in years and had already forgotten what it felt like to be given one. Being an orphan since you were 17 and living alone half your life meant that there was no more reason for you to celebrate birthdays. You usually worked on that day anyway, rarely falling on a weekend like today.

"I'm happy you called me today. Might be for a totally different reason... but I’m here." He gives you a soft smile.

You almost felt shitty. Tonight, your only goal was a good distraction from what sometimes lingered on this day. Usually, getting shit-faced drunk was your solution, but since Bucky had come around, you were more than happy to use him to occupy your mind.

"I haven’t gotten a gift in years," you reply softly.

He gives you a confused look. "Weren’t you married? Your husband never gave you a gift?"

You fidget with the ribbon on the box. It was a pretty box, and you almost laughed at the image of Bucky trying to wrap it himself.

"It... it wasn’t a love marriage. It was a relief when he left me."

He takes your hand in his. It felt... intimate. More than when he fucked you. Yet, you didn’t pull away and let his hand linger on yours.

He already knew you had a shitty marriage. You didn’t have to say it—the way you refused to ever talk about it was already an indication. It’s also why he never asked. He wanted to know, of course, but he understood about not pushing. He had numerous experiences he didn’t want to talk about either.

"I’m sorry for asking," he whispers.

"No, it’s okay." It really was.

"Open it," he urges with a soft smile.

You do as you're told, and inside you find a silver necklace with a snowflake pendant.

"It’s beautiful, Bucky."

"It’s just... snow reminds me of you," he explains, as if it was needed.

You understood. Snow reminded you of him too. How he ended up in your small café during a particularly snowy day and continued to come back every day after.

How you had slipped in the back alley on black ice, and thankfully the snow had caught your fall, or else the accident would have been much worse. He was there to carry you inside the café and help you with your broken ankle, snow everywhere on his jacket.

How he first fucked you by the windowsill of your apartment after he rushed to you during a blizzard, worried because the café had been closed for days while you were wallowing/celebrating after your divorce finally went through. You hadn’t really been thinking straight, and you jumped at him the moment you saw him on your doorstep.

God, you didn’t even realize how much Bucky was there for you and felt incredibly ashamed of how you treated him. A body to keep your bed warm.

Of course, you also considered him a friend. Perhaps the only one, and you were afraid of how it had happened unconsciously. You didn’t like getting attached to people, and the more you thought about it, maybe... Bucky was really more than just a friend to you.

Nervousness started to take over Bucky as your silence continued.

"Y/N?"

"I think... we should stop sleeping together." You look away from him.

His face fell. "I’m... I’m sorry. I can take the gift back. I didn’t mean—"

You turn to him to interrupt. "It’s not the gift, Bucky. The gift is wonderful. You are wonderful. But... I just don’t think what we have is something that I want anymore."

You didn’t want him, he thought. Of course, who could? The self-pity party had started inside him, berating himself on how he was a broken shell of a man. How he had nightmares that could drive a regular man insane. A history one man cannot burden. Now, even a job that no woman could bear to stand in the long run.

You deserved something better. He understood.

You observe his reaction, trying to figure out what was going through his head.

Attachments have never brought any good to your life. Everyone you let in hurt you. Everyone you loved left.

His expression was empty. Then and there, you discovered why Bucky was the one attachment you should never have. You cannot read him, and that was a fact you cannot ignore.

"I understand," he says calmly as he turns around slowly, sitting at the edge of the bed.

You see his shoulders slump as his back faces you before he moves to get up. You had a feeling he misunderstood what you meant, but you didn’t think there would be a point to rectify it. He was better off away from you anyway.

Bucky deserves someone better. Someone that could love him the way he should be loved. Someone warm, kind, and nurturing. He needed someone that could help him heal. He did not need another damaged person like you. He has had a hard life as it is.

You decide to get dressed as well, the awkwardness starting to perpetuate between you. The silence is deafening.

Bucky turns to you after he is fully dressed. He looked so handsome in his grey Henley and jeans, you thought.

You proceed to put on a loose shirt that fell high on your thigh, your hair disheveled and lips plump from your recent lovemaking. His hands itched to drag you back into his arms again, wrap your legs around his waist, and just bury himself deep within you once more. Keep you under him all night.

You were so beautiful to him, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest knowing he could never bask in your presence again.

"I..." he starts.

'I love you,' his mind screams, but the words are stuck in his throat.

"...care about you," he instead says.

A lump in your throat is forming. Oh God, why was this suddenly becoming so hard? Your throat feels tight, and for a moment, you almost believed your breathing would just stop.

"I care about you too," you admit.

You didn’t understand yourself why you said this, but it was too late now. It was a touch move.

This was the only thing Bucky needed to hear before he strides up to you in three steps, hands gently grabbing you by the neck as he presses his forehead against yours.

"Don’t push me away. Please," he begs.

Bucky was not above it. He had begged so many times in his life. FOR his life. As the Winter Soldier. As himself. It had never been effective with Hydra, but he would not hesitate to beg you over and over because you were as important as his life.

You bite your lip. Tears were rising up within you, a sob rising from your throat, so you close your eyes as a last defensive measure. "I can’t. You have to go."

Bucky trembles at your voice. A weak command, but a command all the same.

You push at his chest, shaking yourself away from his hold. He has to leave while you are still holding on by a thread. He has to before the dam within you breaks. No one has seen you weak for years, and this would not be the day.

"Go, Bucky. Leave," you say one more time, a bit firmer.

Swallowing hard, you look at him, and somehow deep inside you, there is this small part that hopes he’ll continue fighting for you, continue fighting for whatever this was.

When he finally nods at you, it takes all your will not to stop him. Not to tell him you made a mistake and that you’re only scared. You keep your mouth pressed in a tight line, afraid of the words that might spill, of the sob that might slip.

You watch him take his jacket and head out of the bedroom. Unable to control your feet, you find yourself rushing and standing in the living room to see him continue walking away.

'Don’t look back. Don’t look back,' you think.

He pauses as his hand reaches the doorknob and, because he was Bucky, of course he looks back at you one last time.

"You were my safe place. With you, I felt like me again. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the same for you."

At this, your walls crumble, but by the time the tears fall, Bucky had already closed the door behind him.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic

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rgwriteshockey · 4 months ago

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hiii could i do prompt 14. with luke hughes?? love your work btw <3333

is that my shirt w/ luke hughes ->

summary: luke finds y/n in his shirt

word count: 1.07k

a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! hope you and everyone reading enjoys!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

y/n walked into the living room, stretching her arms above her head after a long day at work. the apartment was quiet, aside from the soft hum of the refrigerator in the corner and the faint sound of traffic outside. she kicked off her shoes, and without a second thought, grabbed the nearest oversized hoodie she could find to throw on. it was the comfiest thing she owned and made her feel at home instantly.

as she pulled it over her head, she noticed luke's hockey gear scattered across the floor — his skates, a couple of jerseys tossed carelessly onto the couch, and a tangle of socks. she made her way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, trying to avoid stepping on anything that could possibly be a sharp piece of his equipment.

that's when luke came out of the bedroom, fresh out of the shower, towel slung around his neck. his hair was still wet, droplets of water dripping down to his chest, making him look like he'd just walked out of a movie scene. he stopped in his tracks when he saw her.

"hey, what's up?" y/n asked, turning toward him with the glass in her hand.

"nothing much," luke said, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. "just got back from practice. how was your day?"

"same old, same old," she shrugged, taking a sip of water.

then his eyes narrowed, and his gaze dropped lower. "wait a second..." he said, pointing at her with a grin spreading across his face. "is that my shirt?"

y/n froze, looking down at the oversized hoodie that engulfed her body. her heart sank a little as she glanced at him, playing it cool. "what, this?" she said innocently. "nah, it's just a random hoodie. found it in the laundry. comfy, right?"

luke took a few steps toward her, raising an eyebrow. "really? because last time i checked, i’m the only one who has a hoodie that big. and this one’s got my number on the back. number 6, in case you forgot."

she couldn’t help but smirk at the playful challenge in his voice. "oh," she said, "you mean our shirt?"

luke snorted at her response. "our shirt? that’s a bold claim. you’ve been stealing my stuff for months now. i think i should get something in return. like, maybe some dinner?" he said with a mischievous grin.

y/n rolled her eyes, setting her glass on the counter. "first of all, i don’t steal your stuff. i just borrow it. there’s a difference."

"oh, i see," luke said, tilting his head. "so, this isn’t stealing? because that looks like my hoodie to me."

"you gave it to me," she said, crossing her arms in mock defensiveness. "remember? a couple of months ago when you bought like five of the same one. you said, and i quote, 'y/n, you’re gonna need one for yourself, too. we’re gonna match.'"

luke blinked at her for a second, then his face softened with the memory. "right. i do remember that. i guess you’re right, it is our shirt, then," he admitted, walking toward her and wrapping an arm around her waist. "but still, i don’t think you need to wear it every day. i mean, come on, i need a little bit of my own space too, right?"

y/n laughed, leaning into him. "what, you're not happy i like wearing your clothes? thought it was cute when i wore your jersey to that game last week."

"it was cute," luke admitted with a smile. "but i’m starting to think you might be wearing it to get extra attention from me. maybe you're just trying to distract me so i don't notice how messy the apartment is."

"oh, please," y/n chuckled. "like you haven’t already noticed. you’ve been leaving your stuff around here for weeks now. it’s like you live in a sports store."

"hey, i need my things where i can see them," luke defended himself, his voice playful. "that’s the only way i’m gonna remember everything. otherwise, you know i’m gonna forget something important."

"i know," y/n smiled up at him, her eyes softening. "you’re hopeless. but i love you anyway."

"yeah?" luke raised an eyebrow again. "even after i leave my dirty socks everywhere?"

"especially then," she replied, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. "you're lucky you’re cute."

"lucky, huh?" luke chuckled. "i guess i'll take that as a compliment."

they stood there for a few moments, enjoying the quiet of their apartment and the simplicity of the moment. y/n pulled away from him gently, still with the oversized hoodie hanging off her shoulders. she was comfortable, more than comfortable, in his shirt, in his arms, in their life together.

"you know," she said after a beat, "i think you’re starting to get used to me taking your stuff. last week, you just shrugged when you saw me in one of your jerseys. you didn't even make a comment."

luke smirked. "i’m getting soft in my old age," he said. "besides, you wear it better than i do. i can’t complain when you look cute in my stuff."

"so now it’s a compliment?" she teased.

"definitely," he said with a wink. "i think i’ll get you more stuff soon, though. you’re starting to wear my wardrobe out faster than i can buy it."

"oh, please," y/n laughed, poking him in the side. "i’m not that bad."

"really?" luke raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "because i swear, i’ve seen you in all of my shirts in the past month. it's getting a little hard to tell them apart. you should start wearing your own stuff sometimes."

"my stuff is boring," y/n protested. "your stuff is so much better. i like it because it smells like you."

"that’s sweet," luke said, his expression softening. "but you know what? i’ll still buy you your own stuff if it means you’ll leave mine alone for a little while."

"oh, okay," y/n grinned, looking at him playfully. "but only if it’s our stuff."

"of course," he said, laughing. "you know i wouldn’t have it any other way."

as they stood there, together in the quiet apartment, y/n felt a sense of calm wash over her. sure, they bickered about the small things, like clothes and his messy habits, but those were the little things that made their relationship special. it wasn’t just about sharing a wardrobe or living together. it was about the moments that made them feel like home to each other.

"alright," y/n said, finally relenting. "you win. i’ll wear my own clothes more often. but i’m still wearing this shirt tonight."

"you do that," luke said, pulling her close once more. "i’ll just be over here, waiting for my dinner."

y/n grinned, leaning into his embrace. "deal."

they both stood there for a while, just enjoying the simplicity of being together. nothing big had to happen for them to feel like everything was right in the world. she was wearing his shirt — or their shirt, as she liked to call it — and that felt more than enough.

"you’re lucky you’re cute, Luke Hughes," y/n murmured into his chest.

"i know," he replied with a smirk, holding her a little tighter.

and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

#luke hughes x reader #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl imagine #new jersey devils

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na0koz · 7 months ago

Note

Love your toxic/stalker Jinx but like.. what would happen if she got caught? By anyone (Like Vi, Vander, etc) but also/or reader

toxic!jinx masterlist

now i think vi has always known in the back of her mind that maybe jinx loves you a bit too much. but at the same time she didn’t really register all the photos of you on her wall, your name paired with hers written on every surface even her skin, the amount of time she spends out of the house since meeting you.

like vi knows about you, you’re the only thing jinx talks about. she knows jinx, and knows very well that she’s obsessive but she’s never been obsessed to this extent. it concerns vi slightly so she decides to take a look in jinx’s room.

the photos are obvious, they’re literally plastered over her walls. she then notices a corner with a pile of stuff in it, above it is your name in a heart carved into the wall. vi carefully starts to pick apart the pile, finding the nail polish jinx stole from you, the clothes, everything else she pinched from your apartment.

this freaks vi out slightly so she keeps looking around. on her bedside table there is the piece of metal that jinx fashioned a key to unlock your apartment with. the distinct key-shaped cutout, paired with an open notebook listing everywhere you’ve been and everyone you’ve spoken to basically every day in the last 6 months that tells vi everything she needs to know.

when jinx comes home that day, vi is sitting on the couch. unusual for her, she’s generally in her room blasting rock music and wallowing in her sadness over some blue-haired girl. jinx stands opposite the couch, wondering what the look on vi’s face is for.

“are you stalking that girl you’re always talking about?”

jinx freezes. she has no idea what to say.

vi sighs. “you can’t do that, jinx. besides, aren’t you dating?”

jinx looks at the carpet under her feet. “no… i haven’t.. asked her,” she whispers. she cannot believe that she’s been caught. is vi gonna force her to leave you alone? she can’t deal with that, and jinx starts to panic.

vi is close to anger now, “are you kidding? what the hell is wrong with you?! does she know?”

“of course she doesn’t know.”

they argue back and forth for a bit, mainly vi yelling at jinx and jinx cautiously whispering a response, as if you were on the other side of the door listening.

after that, jinx stays in her room for a couple of days with the door locked. every time vi comes knocking, she either stays silent or starts screaming at her to fuck off. her phone is dead and she has no plans of charging it, despite the fact she knows you’ve probably texted and called her multiple times.

instead, she just stares at the photos she has of you, from before the two of you met.

to be honest though, she just goes back to her usual acts after she gets over herself.

if reader found out on the other hand, i had to think pretty hard about what would happen.

i don’t think reader would fully find out what she was doing, but just something surface level. like not the full extremes of jinx’s obsession.

one day, you and jinx had a sleepover and it was the next morning. jinx was laying on your stomach fiddling with the waistband of your shorts when you ask her the question she has dreaded for months.

“have you been following me?”

her hands freeze, eyes widened staring ahead of her. she breathes out a laugh.

“what?”

“have you been following me around?”

“n-.. no? what do you mean?” her voice trembles slightly. she was so fucked.

“i keep seeing you in random places at the same time i’m there,” you talk with an unwavering tone. you need her to know you’re serious about this.

“that’s not me. it could just be someone else with blue hair? i’m not the only person in the world with it,” jinx feigns a small laugh. she’s not sure why.

“no, it’s definitely you jinx. i see your face every time, just watching me from a distance.”

she curls herself into an even tighter ball on your bed. she has literally no idea what to do in the situation.

you stare at her for a bit, noticing her trembling fingers still holding the hem of your pyjamas. you decide you should try and get her to talk, to explain herself.

“i’m not gonna be mad. i just need you to tell me if you have been following me or not.” you’re 98% sure she has been, but maybe it was a coincidence, like the couple of times when you ran into her in public.

more silence follows. a few minutes later, she finally speaks up.

“maybe i have a few times. i just.. worry about you. it’s only ‘cus i love you. i’m just checking you’re okay.” she honestly sounds like she’s about to burst into tears.

“you can just text me and ask how i’m doing, jinx.”

you feel a tear wet your pyjama shirt. this is is honestly not how you thought she’d take it.

“no.. no you don’t get it. i have to see that you’re okay with my own eyes.”

the two of you go back and forth for a while, jinx trying to justify her actions and you shutting her down every time. her arguments have a lot of holes in them.

after a brief pause, you try to reach a conclusion.

“can you just stop following me around, then? it’s scary.”

scary. there is nothing jinx hates more than the idea of you being scared of her.

“i’ll stop,” she breathes. maybe she will for a bit but.. she’ll find a way to keep doing it.

“okay. thank you,” you reply with a sigh, placing your hand on her back to try and comfort her. she had created a significant wet patch on your shirt now, from the involuntary tears falling while she refused to get up from her spot on your stomach.

“i’m sorry i’m so sorry i’m so sorry. i love you,” jinx chants.

you tell her it’s fine.

you’re stuck with her.

#jinx fanfic #jinx arcane #jinx x reader #jinx league of legends #jinx

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happysparklingshadows · 5 months ago

Text

A Certain Hunger (5/?)

Chapter 4 ✿ Chapter 6

Summary: Just a random few days in the first Summer in the wilderness. (Y/n) explore her surroundings and the people around her in the wilderness to find some sense of control and agency. She is blossoming. Adult (Y/n) gets an unexpected visitor late at night and has deep thoughts about the right move going forward. She also needs to get ready for a romance novel convention, but she just can't catch a break from her pine-scented memories.

Pairing: Surviving!Poly! Yellowjackets x fem!reader (slow burn)

Warnings: Gore, Mentions of Starving, Mentions of weight, Mentions of Chronic Pain and Injury, the 90s setting with the views of the time, homophobia and internal homophobia, Coming out of the closet, Mentions of sex and voyeurism, Mentions of Cheating, Mentions of menstrual cycle, Stalking.

Word count: 16.7k

Notes: HAPPY NEW YEARS! Back in action with my monthly uploads, and I am so happy to have my first headcanon chapter that doesn't follow an episode of the show, I hope I can add about three in the first and second season that shows things more about the reader and her experience out in the wilderness when there was still a lot of hope. I even did a poll for the readers of this story to have a voice in the direction of this arc for the reader. If you have any questions or thoughts about this story, please let me know in my inbox, and if you have any requests, I would love to hear what you all think and want from the story. The three days that I focus on in this chapter are July 7-10,1996, during their time in the wilderness, and I plan on making a timeline written for anyone really into the story!

Day 1

The hard ground under you was comfortable enough to sleep on, and maybe enough blankets and exhaustion made it the most comfortable place in the cabin. Your pillow's plush, fuzzy fabric snuggled against your cheek as you slept deeply. The pain in your neck rested just right as you folded your arm under your pillow. Your blanket was warm.

A hollow growl rumbles in your stomach again as you rest.

You have skipped another meal last night. Making it the third meal of the day you have skipped for the others.

The months have been getting to you.

You didn’t think you could avoid hunger, but you didn’t think your stomach would hurt this much. It felt hollow and sore, but you were mostly fine and had the same energy. You haven’t been getting as much fish as you did your first time fishing, but it was enough for almost everyone. You decided to go without for the past four days to help everyone ration out the food. Lately, you would catch about three fish daily, around 1 pound each for 16 people. It was spreading thin on the days when Natalie didn’t catch any animals, but you were content with it sometimes.

You had two advantages over everyone else in the woods: you had wilderness survival, and you were overweight. It will take longer for you to suffer from starvation, and if you skip your meal, that just means everyone gets a little more. You didn’t mind it, but everyone else seemed not to like it; not even the boys wanted you to go without unless you simply put your food on the table and walked outside if you thought the portions too small for everyone. You would just say you could handle it, and if you had a negative calorie intake, it wouldn’t be as harmful as it would be if Jackie or Larua Lee skipped. Sometimes Van, Shauna, Lottie, or even Travis, to your great surprise, skipped with you for everyone else to have more. It was those days when there was a whispering dread in your ear, making you think too far ahead for your liking. You didn’t like to think about the nights becoming colder and the food slowly disappearing, and only having food that you saved, which would be nothing as things were going.

You worked your anxiety away as much as possible with the fishing and projects around the cabin, so you didn't think about it too much. You still hoped to be saved and didn’t want to think about the colder months unless you had to.

A soft hand lands on your shoulder and gently pushes you back a few times until your eyes creep open, “Hey, get up.” Natalie’s soft voice comes to your ears as you slowly get up.

“Wha- what's wrong?” You yawn as you sit up, your hands pushing the wooden floor. You wore your blue and pink striped lattice hem set your mom got you for your trip to Seattle. As you were sitting up, your shoulder peeked out of the top. Your clothes were slowly becoming bigger on you, and you couldn’t find it inside yourself to complain; you had wanted to be a couple of sizes smaller, but this wasn’t how you thought you would lose the extra weight. A thin layer of salty sweat lines your face and neck, feeling every small move with a sticky sensation tickling your flesh. The morning of July was as unforgiving as the day. You pray there will be rain today so you can get a break from the beating sun.

“Nothing. I got some food,” Natalie said with a smile as she looked over your face. She was most worried about you not eating the last few days.

“Really!?” You say as you quickly start to get off your makeshift bed from the floor. You try to pull yourself off the floor like you usually do, but your left arm gives out from under you, causing you to light thump back onto the floor, and a sharp stab stocks you through your stiff neck.

“Are you okay?” Natalie asks, concerned, as she takes your hand, pulling you to stand with her. Her eyes are concerned and worried at your inability to lift yourself. Seeing the biggest girl in the group fall apart wasn't a pleasant feeling because she wasn’t getting enough calories.

You chuckle as you place your hand on her shoulder as she helps you stand up. Your cheeks become hotter as she holds you up. When you are on solid ground, you softly push her off you and say, “Sorry. I was pretty tired yesterday. I don’t know why; I was just in the heat, I think.”

“I could tell; you slept like a damn rock yesterday after I got back from hunting. You good?”

“Yeah,” you say with a little sigh of exhaustion, but you smile at her nonetheless. ”It must have been jet lag, " you joke as you run a hand through your hair. You find a greasy curl in your bangs that stood up the whole conversation with Natalie. You try to hide your cringe at the feeling of your own bad hygiene. After two weeks in the wilderness, most of the body smelled sensitivities left everyone after the deodorant ran out.

“Looks like your prayers have been answered ‘cause I got us some rabbits.” Natalie chuckled as she rubbed the back of her neck and looked at you.

You don’t notice how her eyes seem to study your movements, “The rabbit traps finally worked?”

“Yep, we caught four rabbits this morning, but one was lost. Something got to it before we got up.”’

“A wolf?”

“Maybe. But there was just a foot left behind.” Natalie shrugged her shoulders with an amused smile like she was going to laugh.

“Did you keep it? It’s good luck. Maybe Lottie would have liked it.” You say with a little chuckle at Natalie’s face, and you just turn your head away. You felt your cheeks getting warm talking to her. Before the crash, Natalie was flirty with you, but now she seems more serious. She only talks about food and how people feel, but you always feel like she has a special interest in how you feel. Your stomach growled last night, and she gave you strong looks from the corner of the room.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll be eatin’ good today.” Natalie jokes as she crosses her arms, leaning on the doorway to the kitchen, the second half of the first floor. She seems to be waiting for you to follow her to the hearth where Mari and Laura Lee are cooking the food, and the smells of meat cooking fill the whole cabin. It was making your stomach growl.

“Good. I will eat until I am sick if I can." you say as you finally move to look for clothes for the hot day. Natalie's steel-blue eyes lock as you move to your bags on the opposite side of the small room. You thoughtlessly take off your pajama shirt and expose your bare torso.

Now, after months in the wilderness, you have grown comfortable with your body being seen by others. It didn’t help that you all changed in the locker room together before the crash, but since there was nowhere you could go without peeking eyes, you have grown accustomed to just exposing yourself to change. Even if the boys were in the room, you didn’t even think about it even more because there are a lot of tits out here in these woods. Yours couldn’t be the only ones their eye see in the morning when everyone changes.

It was a little different this time, and you felt Natalie’s eyes on you, tracing your back as you looked down at your pile of clothes in your luggage bag. You could hear Misty and Krystal quiet in their conversation as you move quickly to find a shirt; your chest softly jiggles for everyone in the room to see. You find a thin pink shirt and a Harley-Davidson shirt your dad gave you that you made into a crop top. You tell Natalie to break the loud silence, “Did you find the rest of the pop tabs?”

“What?”

“Wha-” You say as you throw a sports bra on yourself, “Pop tabs, Nat.”

“Oh, yeah.” She says, quickly pushing her hand into her black jeans pocket and pulling out a couple of old pop tabs from the crash site. “These were the only ones I could find in good enough condition.”

You throw the pink long sleeve over your head as you take the pop tabs in your hands and push them into your bag. “Thank you, Nat! I needed a few more to improve my net,” you say as you pull the crop top over your head.

“What do you use pop tabs for again?” she asks with a chuckle. Her smile lingers on her lips, making you feel light in your stomach.

“Hooks, " you crock out to her as you start straightening your hair as best you can with your fingers. “Just bend them back and forth at an angle, and they're makeshift hooks.”

“Sick.” She says as she leans away from the doorway. She leans away for you to walk into the second living space.

“Good morning!” “Morning!” “Hey, (y/n)!” was sent your way as you walked into the room. You smiled and waved back to everyone as you sat down at the table. Everyone had a pile of rabbit meat on their plates, but yours was slightly larger, with berries and the last of the fish jerky on your plate.

“Guys!” you say as you look at your plate, worried everyone didn’t get enough food. But you are shut down by looks.

“Stop it; it's yours,” Jackie says, smiling. She then leans her shoulder towards you playfully.

“Yeah, please. We all thought it would be nice for you to have a big breakfast after skipping the last few nights,” Shauna says as she chews on some dark meat.

“But, guys-” you try, but your stomach growls as you look at the freshly cooked meat.

“Just shut up and take your present,” Van says with a playful glare and shakes her head. Everyone laughs as you try again to make them take some of your portion.

You eventually succumb to your urge to eat the meat. You sink your fork into the meat and shovel the dark meat into your mouth.

You feel the strands of muscle on the rabbit leg you bit. You feel the juices of the fat in its body flush out of the strands as you chew on it more. You savor the gamey and wild flavor of the rabbit’s meat. You just moan as you keep eating everything on your plate. There was a click in the back of your throat as you ate. Your jaw healed weirdly after the crash, making you hear the tiny clicks as you swallow.

You rub the back of your sweaty neck, and every step you take holds a tiny stab of discomfort at the base of your neck. It’s been two months and three weeks in the wilderness, and most of your wounds from the crash have healed beautifully. Your black eyes, busted lip, and burns healed within the first week, and the more significant wounds on your legs and neck seemed to take longer than expected. Misty said your leg took a little longer to heal than the other wounds, but it was because it was on the lower part of your body, and you believed her. But your neck has yet to feel the same. You know you should have had a brace on it, but you couldn’t find anything to make one without leaving someone without. You hoped that you would be saved before it became a problem. Luckily, it doesn’t hurt so bad anymore, but it felt like you constantly slept wrong on your head, having a stiff neck for the rest of the day. You have been messaging your neck as much as you could as you felt it becomes sharply painful, but you have made it a habit in the week of walking in these woods for hours.

In another circumstance, these walks in the woods to the lake would have been therapeutic. The sun's rays peek through the branches and kiss the ground with light. The greenery completely consumes the environment, and with such natural beauty, sometimes you stand still, looking up at the tall trees. As you walk down the trail, you look up at the tall branches of the trees. At this point, it becomes almost muscle memory for you as you slowly approach the beach.

You decided after breakfast to take a bath and clean the grease out of your hair and the thin film of sweat on your skin. You felt uncomfortable in your skin on a hot day out in the Canadian sun, and knowing your day would be spent sitting under the sun fishing, you felt like it was just time to wash and use some of your soap rations and lotion. You hold your toiletries bag, a new pair of underwear, and a towel in your hands as you stand on the end of the grass to the beginnings of the sand, but you stand in place as you look down the lake.

There standing alone was Lottie in her nightgown, looking absentmindedly out to the sky, almost like she was trying to piece something together being written in the blue.

You notice her absence at breakfast, and the last few breakfasts, she has been gone, and you always find her at the water, just staring out into space. It worried you, but you knew there was nothing you could do for the time being. The only thing you could do is be there for your friend. You didn’t need her to tell you to notice that there was a mental health issue underlining Lottie’s behaviors lately, even though she is mostly normal throughout the day. Sometimes, you would have a conversation with her so that she could only forget what she was talking about or completely state vague and ominous things without being able to explain herself.

You softly place your towel on the big rock and untie your shoes. Then, you sit down as the soft waves brush against the hot sand, watching the brunette standing in the water. You stand up from the rock, taking your belt off, then your shorts, until you are in just your underwear. You unclasp your bra from under your shirt, slip the straps through your sleeves, and place your bra onto your towel next to your new pair of underwear.

You walk toward the water, softly stepping into the cold, blue water. Water splashes caress your leg, hugging your body with fresh frost. As you walked deeper into the water, it was a painful pleasure to reach the unresponsive Lottie.

When the water was at your thighs, you called out to Lottie, who was only a few more feet away from you, “Hey! Good morning, Lottie!”

You decided the best thing you could do was be there for Lottie and ensure she was on the right track. You also had to comfort her and help everyone stay in the best conditions possible until you were found.

She was deeply lost in her daze, but she seemed to slowly come back to reality with slow blinks when she heard your voice. She blurted out, “Huh?” and paused to rub her eyes with her fingers. “Um, right. Good morning, (y/n).”

You chuckle, playing down what you were watching, letting her get herself in order, “Hey, I saw you weren’t at breakfast when I woke up.”

“Have you eaten?” Lottie says in a deep, raspy tone as if she is sleeping but looking at you seriously. Hearing her talk to you like that was a little eerie, but it shows her concern about skipping meals.

“Yeah, Nat found a lot of rabbits, and they basically gave me one whole one with berries. It was surprisingly delicious.”

Lottie nodded, but her eyes looked miles away from her. She looked down at your body as you came beside her in the lake. She says as she doesn’t look connected to her body yet from wherever her mind is, “What’s the bag?” she asks as she stands still.

“Soap and stuff, I wanted to take a bath, but I saw you out here and came to you. Can I ask you a favor?”

Lottie's attention was now drawn to the bag in your hand and your thick thighs. "Yeah, Of course."

She didn’t move for a moment but blinked a few times, a clearer and more present look returning to her face. Lottie turned her body to face you fully. "What do you need?"

“Can you hold my things? I'll take my bath real quick, and you can take one, too, if you want.”

Lottie blinks at you and nods, her hands out to hold the bag. You smile as you slowly place the bag in her hands. You say, “Is it okay if you hold my shirt too? I know you have seen my tits enough times, but I want to ask before I take it out,” you chuckle as you look at her shocked face.

Lottie laughed quietly, her cheeks darkening with a grin spreading on her cheeks, and nodded. "I'm sure I can survive the traumatic experience of having to see your naked tits for another few minutes."

You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Whatever.” You quickly take off your shirt and put it on Lottie’s shoulder to keep it from becoming wet. Lottie then glanced around to make sure no one else was there. 'We're alone here, right?"

“I’m sure, and if we weren’t, they wouldn't be seeing anything new.”

Lottie chuckled as she turned her head back to you, her brown eyes scanning your face as she opened your bag. You move in with your naked body to grab the shampoo, start to dunk your head under the water, and stand back up to rinse the foaming soap.

You splash water on your head as you close your eyes and place the soap on the crown of your head. You move the bottle towards Lottie’s direction, then quickly wash your hair with both hands.

Almost instinctively, you peek your eyes open. You see Lottie looking at your chest and down your torso. She doesn’t even notice your eyes, watching you gaze at her. You close them again and say to her, with a little laugh on your lips, “Wanna take a picture?”

“Maybe, so I have it for later,” Lottie muttered. She took another longing look as you rinsed the grease from your hair. She said louder before you asked her to repeat herself, “I don’t have a camera.”

“Guess you just have to use your memory, Matthews.” You laugh as you lean over again. After you rinsed your hair off the shampoo, you also decided to use some conditioner.

“Don’t make me out as some kind of pervert or something, (y/n)!” Lottie says back with a laugh, and she is now looking at your face as you scrub the smooth soap through your ends.

“I’m not, but I don’t know, you might be liking my tits.”

“What can I say? You’re my girl crush.” Lottie says, looking harder at your form as your eyes closed. She quoted Cosmopolitan about movie stars and singers, but Lottie has been thinking she is forming some kind of crush on you since you both shared that kiss late at night. Lottie doesn’t know what to think, but she knows she feels safe with you, and Lottie knows that she is pleasantly surprised with how beautiful you truly are. “I also have a girl crush on Sandra Bullock.”

You giggled as you rinse out the conditioner from the ends of your hair, “What the fuck?” You laugh as your cheeks grow in heat as she talks at you like this. You are happy she is out of her episode, but you didn’t realize that your tits were so distracting for her.

Lottie laughs and says, “I don’t know, I am just talking.”

From across the lake, in the thick brush, she watches with rasped and raggedy breath as she sees (y/n) in the water with Lottie. Jealousy runs through their veins like a heroine, making them hot off this intense hatred for Lottie and even (y/n). “Why is she always with other people? Why does she just show her body off like that? Doesn’t she know how beautiful she is? Doesn’t she know I would kill someone to touch her soft skin just once?” thoughts race through the teen girl's head. She wanted to touch herself at the image of (y/n) so beautiful and vulnerable in the water. If (y/n) was alone, they could have stood in the water bathing with her and watching the soap run down her body up close. It’s all they have ever wanted; it’s what they have thought about for years. They felt themselves retreating to the woods after the sounds of the girls' shared laughter got to their ears. It felt like knives were stabbing into their skin or like bugs digging into their flesh. Their hands formed into hard fists as they stormed away from the shoreline. They couldn’t take much more of this.

After your bath, you and Lottie separated for the rest of the day. You went to your new fishing spot with your makeshift fishing net, and Lottie returned to the cabin to do laundry. She stopped by with a basket on her hip alongside Laura Lee and Van. They asked if you needed help bringing the two medium-sized grey fish, but you declined. You work hard to weave fishing lines and waterlogged weeds into a sturdy fishing net with two thick branches to anchor the netting. You would bend pop tabs at an angle until they broke, making a hook to braid into the net. You were almost halfway done with this project, but you needed to constantly work on the net to finish it before midseason when fish became less active.

When you leaned into your braiding, the small remaining hole on the tab got stuck on the fishing line in a specific braid. You let your fishing pole sit lazily next to you. You put a small frog as your bait this time, but there wasn’t even the smallest bite for the last hour.

Suddenly, as you are weaving the netting, your fishing pole lunges forward, almost getting thrust into the lake water. You quickly drop the net and rush over to your old, rusty fishing pole, and before there is another thrust forward, you grab hold of it.

A mighty thrust forward caused you to step into the water, and you panicked with the pole. You quickly tried to reel in the line, but it didn’t move; instead, it moved you.

You looked down at the water with wide eyes. As you saw the clear fishing line thrash about quickly, you stepped back and decided that the best course of action was to pull it to the surface.

You slip on the mud, and your back leans on a tree as you struggle to pull in the heavy creature at the other end. You panic as you start to feel yourself being pulled forward again into the water by a strong force. You pull the pole with you, both hands on the reel and rod, and rush back to where you sat for hours. Surprisingly, the creature at the other end seemed spooked by you; pulling it forward, the turtle stilled, and as you rushed back to your spot from before, the green ball came to the mud with a low hiss coming into the air.

You look behind you to see an ugly, large, snapping turtle staring you down. The fishing line is in the turtle's beak, most likely in its stomach, as it ate the frog.

You were amazed, but you were also scared. You didn’t know what to do, so you stared at him. A few feet away, he stood, afraid, hissing at you. He was at least 25 lbs without his rocky shell.

SNAP! SNAP!

Before you could pull him in more, he lunged at you with two great snaps of his jaw, missing you each time but getting closer to you with each bite. He stands a foot away from you with his mouth open to whine a hiss.

You couldn’t think but quickly backed up again and looked for your knife. You grab it quickly before the turtle can react. You pull him in with all the strength in your arm. He hissed as his body lifted from the ground, and he hung from the line in pain from the hook in his throat. You try to stab the turtle’s neck to kill him, but he reacts quickly.

SNAP!

You moved quickly out of the way and luckily didn’t lose your finger. You rejected not letting the others help you because now you were dealing with more than before. You didn’t want to let the turtle go, but you didn’t have the strength to keep him in the air like that. You tried again, and he snapped at you. You then decided to put the fishing line on a lower branch of the tree next to you.

You take a trig growing from the broken branch to distract the panicking snapping turtle. You annoy the turtle with a twig to the face, and the turtle snaps onto the twig like it’s nothing, but as he is distracted with the twig, you stab the turtle in the back of its head. The blade pops through its head through the turtle's left eye, popping the small ball out of the socket and making you cringe. You pull the blade from the turtle's head and pull the massive beast from the tree.

You gave up on the rest of the day after killing the turtle. It was a very taxing experience fighting with an adult snapping turtle, and you pack up for the day. You put your little tabs in the fishing box, and your net inside the box handle to walk home. You put the two gray fishes on the stomach of the snapping turtle as you held onto its shell. Walking home with the big guy was laborious, but it was worth it. You knew how much food he would be if you brought him back, so you kept walking with the turtle, weighing you down.

When you got to the cabin, everyone circled Natalie, who held a small beaver in her hands. They cheered when you came to view and seemed beyond excited that both of you caught huge catches you had for them all. There was enough food for everyone for the next couple of days, and it could be spread out for 5 days.

Everyone decided to jerk the beaver and fish to keep them longer and to eat the turtle because Mari could make so much soup from it.

Jackie looked at the slimy moss-green turtle with a curled lip and narrow eyes, “I’m not eating that.”

“What?” Mari says and steps into your space to look at the turtle. Mari picks up the turtle from its shell with both hands and huffs at the weight as if she knew how to handle the beast. “My mom makes killer turtle soup. We can cook it with its shell. We just have to scrub him up, and we have a whole soup!” Mari smiles as she struggles with now Misty to bring the dead turtle to the porch.

You held the two small grey fish by their tailfins and added to Mari, “Don’t we have some carrots and spring onions?”

Jackie gave you a sideways glance at the mention of the bendy forest purple carrots you all found by the plane. The carrots naturally grew on the vine marshy ground the plane lay on. They were a fantastic find. The problem was preserving them long enough to eat throughout the days because they were root vegetables. They were bendable and weak but still were edible. “This sounds so gross.”

“You’re such a stick in the mud, Jackie. Just think it’s rabbit.” Mari says as she starts to wipe the turtle from its blood with a rag.

“Dude, look at it! It looks like a slug!”

“Dude!” Shauna says to Jackie, nudging her shoulder to make her stop talking badly about their dinner.

“I would rather have the beaver!” Jackie yelled with defensiveness, her eyes big and wide and serious.

A snicker from Van started it, making you laugh out loud and making everyone giggle at the joke Jackie unintentionally made.

“Beaver.” Van says, and it makes everyone laugh harder. Jackie rolls her eyes with a loud ugh. She stomps off to the back of the cabin to get away from the laughing and her unintentional pussy joke.

Late that night, after everyone had eaten the turtle soup, you sat outside on the porch, writing about your day with your journal in your lap. You had picked up the habit from Shauna, and you both decided to write about your experience out in the woods so that if you were found, people would know what happened in your time stranded. You have been becoming lazy with your journal lately because there has been nothing new to write about. You have been fishing, talking with your friends, and worrying about your mom.

A strong breeze sent a chill down your legs, making you cringe at the cold night. You closed your journal, placed your ballpoint pen in the center, and decided to pack it up for the night. You stood up off the porch steps, but as you stood, you felt a deep pressure in your pelvis, making you want to pee.

You turned yourself around to go to the woods, the pooping corner, as Mellissa coined it. You felt the tall grass brush against your calves, crickets and salamanders sing in the twilight of the Canadian mountainside; you felt the crisp, clean air reach your nostrils and travel down your throat. You traveled down the small trail you and all the others made from traffic, but you felt a drop in your chest as you approached the bushes.

Snap!

You turn your head to your right, through the thick brush of trees toward the abandoned plane, to the sound of something snapping a branch. You see the small figure in the brush coming towards you, her hands holding the tree for whatever reason. Her eyes glued on you, her mouth slightly open, she looks shocked at the snapping branch.

“Misty! Holy moly!” You yelp as you jump back on instinct. Misty always had a way to catch you off guard. “What the hell are you doing over there?”

“Uh, Peeing?”

You laugh out loud as you pant. For whatever reason, you feel your heartbeat in your chest. Misty’s unsettling personality isn’t one to be around at night. It is uncomfortable, but it is bearable if you speak right. You put your hand on your chest as you laugh again to distract from her creepiness and act like you are not uncomfortable in her presence.

“Oh, of course! Sorry, Misty! Doing the same!”

She steps forward out of the brush and keeps her eyes on you. “I could come with you to keep watch, you know, um, just to make sure you're safe,” she says.

A stiff breeze hit the back of your legs, but it wasn’t as chilling as the feeling of Misty’s eyes staring into yours. Something simmered under the surface—it was always there, but in this moment, it felt dangerous. You felt a desperate need to let her near you, to be friendly with her, but she didn’t know how to mask the sinister undertone in her words.

You hated the fact you felt pity. You felt bad. You didn’t want to make Misty feel like a freak like everyone else. You remember how crushed she was when Randy called her a dyke at homecoming years back, and you remember the rumors of her having anal and giving boys footjobs even though everyone knew she didn’t. You know how everyone treats her like an outcast in the wilderness. It wasn’t fair to be permanently outcasted because you were offputting but overly kind, you thought.

“Yeah, sure. Can you hold my journal?” You say to her as you stand in place, waiting for her to be beside you. “Hey, I have a question to ask you, actually?.” you add as you move to be behind a bush.

Misty looks into your eyes softly, her hands tightly holding the leather bond book. She smiles tightly and says, “Yeah?”

“What are those birds out on the water, do you know?” you ask as you unbutton your pants, move to a squat and pee. Your eyes lock onto Misty as you continue, “The one that makes those loud dove noises. I know those aren’t crows because they are like ducks sitting on the water and don’t sound like crows. They are so loud and scary early in the morning.”

Misty smiles, her eyes perking up with light, her face almost red with excitement as she proclaims, “Those are Common Loons. The black ones with red eyes.” She says with a smile growing on her lips, like she is smiling under the mask she wears, “Fun fact! They use Loon calls as Mourning Dove calls in movies because Loon’s are a lot more crisp sounding.”

You smile at her softly as you study her face. “That’s crazy... I thought it was some kind of duck or something.” You chuckle as you watch her face. You look to the forest floor for some leaves to wipe with, and Misty continues talking about different birds. You feel a shiver down your spine at how normal Misty is.

After you were done, you walked with her, took your journal back from Misty, and kept talking about her special interest in birds. She told you she has a pet named Neapolitan, Yellow Canary, back home who always sings for her when she enters her room. As she was talking, you watched closely at her eyes and lips.

Her eyes are bright and wide, and her lips turn upward as she speaks. But it was as if something inside wasn’t connecting with her eyes.

There was no sadness or grief at being here and not with Neapolitan. There was just contentment in her face.

Misty is acting the same way she did before the crash. She seemed fine, happier talking about the loon out on the lake more than her pet in her room. It wasn’t right. It made no sense. It scared you.

The energy coming off misty just made you want to run away. You don’t understand why Misty is giving you the creeps in the back of the cabin, but you don’t feel well hearing her speak. Hearing her become so content with being here and talking about home like it didn’t tear her apart made you feel sick. You couldn’t understand how she wasn’t sobbing, talking about home or a pet, and just talking to you like this was her best conversation in years.

Misty was at the porch with you as you started to step up the stairs to the cabin’s front door; she listed, “There is also the brewer sparrow, burrowing owl, bald eagles, American dipper, the brown-headed cowbird-”

“Misty?”

“Yeah?” She asked with her head whipping back to you, her blonde curls bouncing around her head with the movement.

“I need to ask you a serious question, and it needs to stay between us, okay?”

Her eyes widened for a second as she approached you with a deadly serious expression, taking the face you needed her opinion on sincerely. “Anything, what is it?”

You sigh and look away from her at the beautiful starry sky above you. “Do you think we're going to be found? I just—” You sigh as you look at the north star off the side of the Waxing gibbous.

“I don’t know.” Misty immediately answers before thinking about it, but she says, “Maybe the plane had its last location sent to the power tower, and people are searching high and low for you guys.”

“What do you mean “you guys”? Your family are looking for you like all our families are.”

“I don’t think they are, " Misty said as if it were a fact. At this moment, her eyes were empty of emotion, and her face looked too relaxed to be natural.

“Don’t say that.”

“Well, don’t ask if we’re going to be found as if you've given up hope, (y/n),” Misty says with a serious voice as she steps closer to you, with her face almost in yours, “You are the one everyone is looking up to for what to do out here, you're the one holding all of this together, and you can’t start asking those things now. You’re our only hope of staying alive long enough for search teams to find us, and you're doing amazing. You can’t lose hope now.”

She spoke to you like she was pushing you on a pedestal, building your confidence with a fierce glare to push you back in place. It was so unsettling. It was just wrong; it felt wrong, like she was toying with you for losing hope, which was so odd. Why do that?

Just like the day you left the locker room after their last game before the whole plane ride, she hid in the hallway just to stare at you.

“Okay, " you say to her as you fight the urge to step back, trying not to hurt Misty’s feelings. I’ll try. Sorry. I haven’t given up hope; I have just been getting wary lately.”

“It’s okay, (y/n), just make sure you don’t tell anyone else what you just told me because that might scare them.” Misty says again with her smile creeping up slowly, predatorily, like a wolf lifting its lip to lick their chops.

You blink slowly, feeling unnerved by the words but seeing why she was saying them. “I mean, I am just being realistic. I’m not trying to be a stick in the mud.”

“I know that.” Misty quickly animates her face and body, her hands to her chest to prove her innocence, with her eyes looking big up at yours. “We’re friends that understand each other, but the others don’t understand that. They will judge you and never take you seriously again.”

You look at her momentarily to understand what she is saying and feel the sinister undertone in her words. You know you should play it dumb and safe, though, as you smile at her and say, “Yeah, okay, you're right. Sorry for talking crazy.”

“No problem, bestie!” Misty beamed with a tight grin. Her eyes looked cold as she tried to make her smile warmly.

‘21

You had a wonderful last few days. When Misty dropped you off at your house, you quickly wrote the ending for your smutty novel. It was a perfect ending where the two women stay together and have hot sex, the perfect ending for a complicated romance story. It made you so happy to turn in the novel finally to your publisher, which after review, they fucking loved as well. It was sent to the editors, and the book's production will start by the end of next month. You couldn’t help but feel so accomplished that you even took your father out on a nice dinner to celebrate, and you have been on a happy high since.

Tonight, you have been sent over the editor's notes to fix the holes in the story. You went to get yourself a coffee and dinner and came home to see your cat sitting on your laptop keyboard.

You then took the next couple hours devoting yourself to critically combing through your story, your handwritten notes beside you, and your reading glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose. The chapters have been read over four times with edits each time to be approved in your eyes to move to the next. You remember when your first published book came out. It was a lesbian Vampire book trilogy about a feminine Noblewoman meeting a street fighting masc, which just so happened to come out at the same time the movie Twilight came out. The success of the movie made your book blow up in popularity among queer groups, in conservative groups from outrage, and from everyday literature lovers. You remember how stressed you were when you were writing the series and how many demands were placed on you to push out the next book and the next, and then you didn’t hear from your publisher for a year until they demanded a new book. You then wrote a fantasy book romance that had a fairy falling in love with a goblin, another successful series. Now, on your third romance trilogy, you have grown bored of your fantasy creatures and celebrate concepts. Tension grows in your shoulders in your computer chair, and you lean back, taking your glasses off in exhaustion.

Rubbing your eyes and leaning back in your chair, you naturally pulled back. The wheel glided on the carpet under your resting foot, and your eyes landed on the open closet.

Your chest grew hot, and your breath became deep. Staring at your closet door, with your hands on your head, you slowly rose from the chair.

“You don’t need to read them again.“ The voice begs in the back of your head.

In a semi-self-inflected trance, you step into the closet and find a mess of clothes and long-forgotten items: skates from the 1980s, notebooks from NYU, and an old steel safe.

“Stop it. You don’t need to read them again.” It says again.

Your painted fingers type in the code, your mother's birthday, and quickly open the safe. When you open the safe, a wave of smell barrels towards your nose, smelling like old paper, dirt, dust, and small hints of Pine.

You start at the worn black leather of the bound journal, which has water and sun damage staining on the exterior. The once-white pages have yellowed over the years, and the quality feels like it will fall apart in your hands before too long.

You gradually breathe as you lean against your closet wall and slide down, looking at the 25-year-old journal.

“(Y/n), it’s not going to change.” The voice pleads as you turn the page to a random page of the first book you found.

7/7/96 Today was productive and amazing! I caught a snapping turtle about 30ish ibs, and we made a yummy soup of it. It's the best thing I've had out here so far because I feel myself salivating about it. I can't wait to have a bowl tomorrow for breakfast. When Travis took a bite of the soup, he got the eyeball of the turtle, and he gagged. Mari said it was good luck and should eat it, but he kept gagging. He is so pathetic!! Natalie caught a beaver today, and we decided to make it jerky. Jackie didn’t want to eat the turtle, so she said to everyone with a straight face, “I want the beaver!” Needless to say, it made us all laugh until we peed! I am feeling happy today and hopeful. I feel better about being here, but it doesn’t make me feel completely at ease at the thought of being okay. I hope they haven’t given up looking for us, and I know everyone’s family wouldn’t stop looking for us. 7/8/96 I caught two fish, one of which was a salmon (score!!) Natalie and I started making a map by walking around the area and building it together. I had a bowl of turtle broth for breakfast and some fish jerky. a lot of progress with my fishing net. I am about ¾ completed, but I need more stable vining. I feel somewhat like I am PMSing, and I am so not ready to be on my period just yet again out here. I wish I had a pad or tampon out here. All we have is homemade ones out of shirts and stuffing made from cattails fluff. I am about to start because I am much more sad than yesterday. I miss my mom so much I can’t even help but cry when I think of her face

You violently start to sob and cover your face with your hand after reading the tragic line from your old journal. The journal that you and Shauna started there. It’s been 25 years since you wrote that sentence in the journal, but the statement is never more accurate than it is right now. You felt like you were 18 again. You were a child missing their mother and just want to talk to them about it. About everything, but you couldn’t. There was no way for you to talk to your mother again. Nothing has changed from then to where you are now.

It was physical proof of your broken mind and heart. The words don’t even sound like you anymore. It was so young and naive, hopeful to no end. But when you see lines like that, you break down like a baby. Maybe it was for all the times you didn’t cry when you should have been out there.

You felt as you looked at the young woman’s words a feeling of grief that just harassed you in place when you so much as looked at a page. It didn’t matter if it was a sad or mundane page. It always made you break down. You don’t understand why you still have urges to read over your old dairy, but you did almost every week for your whole adult life. Maybe it was a reminder of the dead young girl you used to be or just clinging onto the moments in the wilderness that made you feel whole. It made you feel like you knew everything, your purpose, and the meaning of life, but as time marched forward, you didn’t feel any more in place than you did then.

It wasn’t fair.

You were just a girl.

You all were just children.

You may not have died, but a part of your soul did. Some of you just couldn’t escape those pine trees and butterfly weeds. It’s been a whole lifetime away, but you still haunt yourself.

It hurt because the words were just as true then as they are now.

You missed your mom.

You missed yourself.

Knock! Bang! Knock! Bang!

You pause in panic and hold the journal to your chest in fright. You don’t understand. Is it real? It’s dead of night outside, and you live in the middle of nowhere.

Knock! Bang! Knock! Bang!

“Hello! (Y/n)! Open up, please!” A familiar feminine voice yells from outside your house. It comes from your backdoor. The glass French doors rattled from the knock from the other, making a vibration ring out into the house and your shaking heart. Your anxiety spikes as you slam your journal shut, and you throw it into the safe, shutting the safe door with a sharp click. You race downstairs and go toward the doors with your heart beating violently against your chest. You don’t know why, but you knew you had to open the door for some reason without a fight.

You rush to your door in a panic, worried it is one of the team members in trouble and immediately needs you, and quickly unlock the back door. You felt foolish and like you were putting yourself in danger by opening the door when it was dark outside, but the knocking wouldn’t let up.

You rip open the door to come face to face with the big blue eyes of your goddaughter.

“Callie!?”

“Before you say anything, I need to-“

“Oh my god! Are you alright?” You gasp at her and grab her arms, looking over her small teenage body for any wounds or signs of her being harmed. How did she get here? She doesn’t have her license yet. She lives 3 miles away. She is in her bedclothes and has no coat or a bra.

“What? No, I’m fine.�� She says to you in a snapping tone, tired from her journey to your home. She came from the wooded separation between the neighborhoods. You stand in shock, your mouth wide open as you stare at Callie.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE SO LATE!?” you raged as you grabbed ahold of her arm. You look outside to see if her boyfriend is there in his car. He wasn’t. You pull her into your warm home. “What the hell are you thinking!? It’s 1:20 in the morning!”

“Jesus Christ, Let me explain, chill!”

“Chill!? Are you serious? Does your mom know you're here?”

“Like she cares! She thinks I am at Cyanne's house, and I came home, but no one was home.”

“Callie, of course, she cares about you. She cares a whole shit ton about you.”

“Sure, she does.” She rolls her eyes softly, looking to the floor to examine her shoes. She is ashamed and defensive and feels foolish for coming here. You can read it all over her face. You take a deep breath. You need to calm down and make her understand.

“Callie, I am freaking out because I love you. Why did you walk to my house in the middle of the night with no coat? Do you know how dangerous that was?” You continued with a stern voice, your hand on her arm again to make her look at you.

She rolls her eyes again, annoyed, “I was okay, alright! I am fine! I was cold, and my feet hurt, that’s it!”

“You could have run into a dangerous person, you could have gotten lost in the woods-“

“I didn’t, OKAY!”

“Why are you here?” You ask again with her stern tone, your hand holding her tighter to make her look at you.

“My parents are cheating on each other.” She blurted out as she kicked off her shoes. She moves her arm out of your hold to sit on the couch beside your backdoor. You let her push off your hold of her at the words; you feel a sense of guilt come over you again as you lean against the wall.

Day 2

The humidity of the July morning breeze made your skin feel sticky as you carried some logs toward the chopping block for the firewood you all would need for the day. You woke up early today, restless as always, and stuff in the neck as you were the day before, and you look down at your tied shoes. Noticing the now caked-on dirt, mud, and leaves that have stained the fabric of your shoes it made you sad to see how dirty they got within only a few months out here.

You lift your head, and to your shock, you stand still in what is in front of you. As you approached the back of the cabin through the woods, you noticed two girls giggling against a tree. You see pale hands holding the tree as they lean into the other girl, their other hand on the other girl's stomach. You almost immediately know it was Taissa and Van making out against a tree. Soft moans from Taissa came out as she arched her back against the tree. You notice Van’s other pale hand down Taissa’s shorts.

You were in shock as you watched them. You felt dirty for walking in on their intimate moment and pervert for feeling your body tingle at them touching each other. Jealously ran hot in your veins, but embarrassment possessed you stronger. You realize you are watching like a peeping Tom and try to turn away from them.

Snap!

You cringe at the snapping of a branch under your foot. The two girls turn to your snapping branch to find you standing awkwardly behind them with wood logs in your hands.

“(Y/n)!” “Please, stop-”

“Guys, it’s, please don’t panic-” You try to calm the two down as they storm towards you. Van’s face was painted red, eyes dressed in worry as Taissa’s face was panicked.

“(y/n), You can’t tell anyone about this! I’m so sorry you walked in on this, but don’t think that we are lesbians or anything we- we just-” Taissa rambles as she grabs your arm to keep you there. They’re scrambling to find any explanation or excuse to explain the two of them making out against the tree even though there was no way to play down what they did. They still tried, and you just shook your head.

“Please, it’s okay, I promise-”

“You can’t tell anyone about this, (y/n)! They can’t find out about us; please don’t.” Taissa panicked again, tears in her eyes. The sight made you pause, and your heart hurt. Seeing how hard they tried to hide their love made you want to cry.

“Please, (y/n), don’t tell anyone,” Van added with deeply concerned eyes. She kept her hands to her waist, hugging herself, and tried to hide the proof of Taissa on her hands.

You look at the two with wide eyes as you realize you must calm them down. “I won’t tell anyone about this! I didn’t mean to walk in on you two-’

Taissa completely broke down as you spoke. Her face turned painfully in sadness as she started to cry. Her cheek was red with a lack of breath, and her eyebrows furrowed together tight. She was stressing out and about to have a panic attack.

You drop your wood logs on the forest floor, approach Taissa, and hug her. She tried to push you off at the first attempt, but at your second, she came into your arms with deep sobs coming from her stomach.

She wasn’t just crying about you finding out she was gay.

Your eyes scan towards Van, who bites the cuticle on her finger as she watches anxiously. It seemed to be a death sentence for the two to be found out. You say without hesitation, “I’m not saying a word. You have my word. I would rather die.”

Van blurts, “(Y/n), it’s okay, but you're not okay with this. We don’t know what to say-”

“Please, " you say again as you rub Taissa’s back. She is still sobbing quietly in your neck. With tears in your eyes, you say, “I understand. I get it more than you understand.”

There was a pause in the air after you spoke. Even Taissa calmed her breathing and her cries.

Van’s eyebrow quirked in confusion, and Taissa, hidden in your neck, seemed to be doing the same.

You felt brave in this moment with the two completely a mess in their shame and worry.

“I have known about you two for a while. I didn’t say anything because I was envious of you two. You found each other, and you had each other.” You pause as you try to find the right words. Taissa pulls away to look at you. I never found anyone to be with like you two.”

“What are you saying?” Van asks, her eyebrow higher on her forehead as she slowly figures out what you are saying. Taissa quietly connects the dots as she listens to you speak.

You tear up more as you would say it out loud for the first time. You felt emotional.

“I like girls, Van. I’m gay. I’ve never tried to be with a guy or anything, but I am sure I won’t be getting with anyone who isn’t a woman.”

They both pause as the moment comes over the three of you. A eureka moment was almost in the air as you looked down at your feet.

“I’ve known about you two since Randy’s party before leaving for Seattle.” You said as you looked at your feet. “I saw it in the way you two looked at each other. I just knew. I don’t know if anyone who isn’t gay would know, but I knew.”

You look back up to the two silenced girls and add, feeling yourself vomiting your emotions to the two only people who would understand, “I didn’t say anything because I was happy you two found each other. I was jealous because I didn’t have anyone, but I wouldn’t do that to you. I know how much it would kill me if someone told people before I was ready. I mean, I haven’t even dated a guy before or had sex with one to completely know if I am, but I just never had the urge to be with a guy, so I don’t think I am wrong…”

“(y/n), Why didn’t you tell us?” Taissa asks. She steps closer towards you with a hand holding yours kindly. It touches your heart.

You choke up as a tear comes to your eye. Van comes towards you, too, with a soft smile. “I don’t know. I didn’t even want to mention it. I don’t want you to think I wanted to do something wrong or that I wanted to break you two up-”

“Oh, no, no, (y/n), you big dummy.” Van chuckles as she comes to hug you and rubs your back. “We would never think you would do that!”

Taissa agrees instantly. She says, “We didn’t even think you would tell anyone; we were just panicked!”

‘I know, I get it! So, please believe me when I say the secret is safe with me! I am happy you two are together, and I don’t want to push you before you are ready to say anything. It's none of my business to tell.’

“Thank you,” Taissa says again, deeply touched by your words. As you finish speaking, she quickly pulls you into a hug. Van quickly follows suit. She holds a soft smile the whole time.

You softly cried and said in Taissa’s chest, “You two are the first I’ve ever told. Not even Shauna and Jackie know.”

It always felt so shameful that you never told your closest friends your true proclivities, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look them in the eyes and say you liked girls and not guys. Not after years of lying and saying you wanted to fuck random guys you decided you had a crush on, you felt like if you let the truth out to Jackie and Shauna, it would hurt whatever dynamic you had left after your distance because of your mom’s health. You skipped out on so many hangouts, sleepovers, club meetings, and even birthdays with your sandbox best friends, and it has been slowly killing you. They still reached out and acted like nothing changed, but you all know things have shifted to Jackie and Shauna being the best friends, and you are now the tagalong old friend. But since being out in the wilderness, you have been closer to them than ever. Every day the three of you steal away time to talk shit and just be girls for a few hours by the river while you fish. It was slowly feeling like it did back in freshmen year of high school when you three were a true trio, but the growing weight of your mental health and shame for not telling them so many things, being gay being one of them.

Van rubs a hand on your back as she pushes a hair behind your ear. “I am very happy to be the first to hear it. Thank you for telling me that. I told my big sister, " she confesses. She smiles softly at you, a sadness in her eyes. “She wasn’t super happy about it, but after a while, she acted the same as she always had.”

Taissa nods her head and says with a chuckle, “You are the first I’ve had to tell I was gay without dating them.”

You chuckle softly back as you pull away from the hug. You say as you look at the two again, “Please, believe me when I say it’s all going to be okay. Just be more careful with people being around.”

After this morning, the day went smoothly. Van went to chop wood, Taissa started cleaning laundry in the lake shortly after your deep confessions, and you went out to fish like always.

Today was a lucky day in the spring season because you caught a small gray fish and a Salmon. You caught a stray salmon on its way to lay eggs for the season, and it was completely healthy. As you raised the fish from the water, it snapped its tail.

You returned to camp with your wins, only to find Natalie returning with two more brown rabbits, dragging the small animal back to camp.

“Hey, pretty lady, what are you doing over there?” she calls as she approaches you on the trail. She seems in good spirits today, walking with a skip in her step, the rifle comfortably hanging from her shoulder.

“Got a fish, what about you, baby?” You say back with a chuckle at the end, trying to flirt back with her playfully.

She chuckles with you, a big smile, as she lifts the rabbits in her hand. " I got some dinner.”

You chuckle again without realizing you feel like a stupid schoolgirl not even listening to Natalie’s words, and you beam to her, “You did well with those traps!”

Natalie blushes as she chuckles; her hand scratches the back of her neck, and her eyes shy down to the ground. “Yeah, well, you helped me set them up.”

“It was nothing because you were doing almost all of it.” You giggle offhandedly, and you walk together to the cabin. You then snap your fingers that you remembered a thought you had. “I have an idea to run by you!”

“What’s up?”

“I was thinking that maybe we could start making a map of some sort to find a way out because we both go into the woods often.”

Natalie nodded slowly as she processed what you said, “like how?”

“Like we can draw the cabin as the center and then draw everything around it until we are as far as we can go.” You say with a shrug as you reach the cabin. Girls circle the fire, talking, working on firewood, hanging and sewing clothes on the line.

Natalie looks at you as you both place the animals on the table in the cabin for Coach Scott to skin for cooking later. “I see. You're saying we piece together everything we know until we get enough coverage to find a way out?”

“Yeah! I don’t know, but can we figure it out while we go? Like when we are bored, we draw more to the map.”

“Yeah, okay, I like this plan.” She smiles as she slowly looks over your face. With a cute shrug, she says, “I’m happy I’m doing something. Gives me a reason to steal your time.”

You giggle a little at the comment, trying not to take it as a clear hint that she wants to be with you. You say, “You always steal some of my time away, baby.”

“I just want more.” Natalie smiled at you playfully as she slid away from you in the kitchen doorway to the other living space. You felt yourself smile to yourself in a flustered state, huffing out air. “Holy shit.” You mumble as you walk from the table to the back of the cabin.

‘21

You lean against the wall with your eyes wide. You study Callie’s distraught face and see her lip quivering.

“My mom is cheating on my dad, and my dad is never home because his stupid fucking database needs work on, but it’s all just bullshit!” Callie says with a quiver in her voice, and tears come to her eyes, and she continues to say, “I am so sick of this shit!”

You stay quiet because you feel like she just wants to yell out her frustrations at you, and you want her to calm down.

“My mom asks me how I am or my day at school, but she doesn’t care about me! She doesn’t know what music I am, she doesn’t like my clothes, she hates my boyfriend, I can’t do this.” She has fat tears rolling down her face as she rages on. She tries to keep up the front that she is nonchalant and doesn’t care even though it is failing. “She just looks at me with these cold fucking eyes. I can’t stand it anymore. She looks at me and doesn’t see me at all! I am just a roommate to her!”

“Callie, that is not true. Your mother loves you.”

“No, she doesn’t. She fucking hates me.”

You stop yourself from yelling at her by closing your eyes and covering your mouth. You had a painful flash of a memory as she says that, of a bloody pile of rags used in the wilderness that old winter night when Shauna was in labor for the first time. You remember her cries that rattled your soul and caused you to have a tear in your eye. You could never bring yourself to speak about the baby before her, and it wasn’t your place to tell Callie something so heartbreaking about her mother. It didn’t stop your heart from breaking.

“Callie, stop-“

“I know she is fucked up, and she is traumatized, but she doesn’t care how she traumatizes me.” She says with her eyes full of angry tears, and she points to herself with her hands, but her eyes grow wide as she looks at you across from her after that sentence.

You just stood there emotionless against the wall, with your eyes losing color as she paused to reflect on what she said. You sigh deeply. You slide down a wall for the second time tonight as you softly raise your eyebrow at her and look away for a second. You take out the pack of cigarettes in your sweatpants pocket, and you put one in your mouth.

“I’m going to let you in on a little something,” you pause to light your cigarette, “something about the woods.”

You see her eyes keep wide and watery as she hugs her arms around her belly. She is focused on what you are saying but says nothing, scared of what will happen.

“Your mom, Jackie, and I have been best friends since kindergarten. We met playing house at recess and were always at each other's hips.” You say as you take a puff of your stick, looking at Callie with soft eyes, “I knew how your mother was when we were young. She was stubborn and guarded with her emotions; sometimes, Jackie and I couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. She hid some things from us but always told us eventually.”

You stand up and sit next to Callie on your couch. You stare at the floor in front of you. Not her as you continue, you want to vomit, “But when we got out there, uh, the things that happened,” you pause yourself as you feel your lip quiver, “You have heard what people say about us, how they whisper what we did and what we did to each other to survive, is not as bad as it did go, honey.” You say with honesty dripping in your haunted tone, and you are in a faze staring at the burls in your hardwood floors. You know what you said was too dark and too vague not to continue as she sits beside you with bated breath. “People passed away out there because the winters were so cold that death felt like going to sleep. People passed away because they were trying to hunt, and wolves found them.” You stopped yourself again as you felt a tear fall from your eye. You weren’t even in your own body as you kept talking. It is somewhat the truth, mostly a lie, but still, the same reality you lived. You didn’t need to tell her the truth just yet.

You didn’t even look at the girl in the corner of your eye. Callie stared in awe as you spoke about the unspeakable—the crash and surviving the wilderness. Tears formed in Callie’s eyes as she looked at her godmother. She was emotionally and mentally affected by what had happened just from speaking vaguely about it, thinking about you as a teenager going through all that, and thinking about her mother as a teenager in that situation, too.

“I need you to know what happened out there changed your mother. It kept her alive. It’s why she is here today, baby.” You say as you slowly turn to look at Callie. You push your goddaughter's hair behind her ear as your face stays still, tears running down her young, flustered cheeks. “When we lost Jackie, me and your mom were never the same. Something died within us. And every time you come face to face with the death of a friend like that, it kills something inside of you. It’s hard having kids of your own when you have known so many dead children at one time…”

You put your cigarette out as it reached the filter of the stick, and you flicked the rest into the small ashtray on the corner table. “Callie, you are the age we were when all that happened. I know that in some small part when she looks at you, she sees what she could have been if it hadn’t been for the crash. And maybe it’s why she isn’t close to you right now or why she isn’t up your ass wondering what you're doing. Because she wants you to have a good time and do the stupid teenager stuff. She will never tell you that, though.” You say with a smile to Callie and a nudge to her side. You look at the calmed-down girl who looked deep in thought with her hands on her knees,

You add to her ear with a warm tone to your voice again, your hand on her shoulder. “She loves you. Period. She worries sick about you, and she couldn’t put you down when you were born because she worried you would go away if she let you go, Callie. But she couldn’t be a mother like she could have been if your mom had never been out there in those woods, even if that doesn’t make that easier for you or make it fair… it was some really dark times out there for your mother, and that’s why she is not as emotionally open like other mothers. I’m sorry, Callie, but please don’t think your mother loves you.”

“Okay.”

“And with that being said, what is happening with your mom and dad is between them. Stay out of it. I don’t know what is happening, but you have no part. They love you, no question, even if they are cheating. I understand it is affecting you and making you uncomfortable, but you can’t get involved with your parents. Okay.” You add that as you nudge her with your shoulder with a big smile. She softly smiles back with a shake of her head.

“Fine.” She sighs, defected.

You stand before your stove as you fry eggs in a pan. You yawn as you sip on your coffee. Your eyes still have a sleep crust in the corners of your eyes. You woke early to make breakfast for the sleeping Callie on your old sofa. Last night, after your long talk with Callie, you led her to your comfy sofa with the TV controller. You have her a pillow and a throw blanket to sleep on as you sit in your dad's old recliner. You let Callie put the TV on CartoonNetwork on some show she liked as a kid. You didn’t care much for its colorful characters or their loud laughing, but you leaned back as you heard Callie softly snore beside you in the living room. You leaned on your fist as you napped until the morning birds chirped outside your window.

You made a big breakfast for the two of you, including eggs, bacon, toast, and a fruit salad bowl. When you hear the teenager walking down the hallway connecting to the kitchen, she slumps into a counter chair. She looks comfortable and relaxed at your house, as you always do when you watch her.

“Good morning, Callie. How did you sleep?” You asked as you poured yourself another cup of coffee.

She yawns with her arms wide stretching, and she says in a deep yawn, “Good! I’m starving!”

You chuckle as you place the fruit bowl before her and fry her eggs, “Eat up. You came at the right time. I needed to get rid of some food.”

Callie chuckled as she threw a blackberry into her mouth. She says, “See, your favorite goddaughter coming over wasn’t such a bad thing.”

“No, but sneaking out of your house at midnight and crossing town to my house isn’t so cool.” As you look at the side of your face to her, you want her to know you’re not over the danger she put herself in to talk to. “You couldn’t have called me to pick you up.”

“You would have said no.”

“I might have, but you would have been safe.”

Callie sighed and took another berry in her mouth, slumping back in the chair almost defectively. You sigh in return as you plate the buttery egg for the child, “Listen, I love you. I care about your safety and feelings, okay? I would have come to your house and taken you out for ice cream or something. I wasn’t doing much then anyways, just picking out an outfit.”

Callie looks at you with big, soft eyes as you push the plate toward her. She just keeps her head down as you speak. Callie picks up a fork and eats the hot eggs and bacon. She mumbles as she eats, “Thank you for talking to me last night. About what happened.”

You move beside her, slumping into the chair. " Any time, I’ll always be there for you.”

“Why were you picking out an outfit at 1 in the morning?” Callie chuckled as she spoke, completely taken from your comment earlier.

You chuckle and say, “I’m promoting my book at a convention soon, so I was trying to find something cute.”

“Can I help you?” She asks you with big eyes, pleading for a yes, and shoves the hot egg into her mouth.

You chuckle and nod, “Finish your breakfast, and we can look around.”

Day 3

You and Natalie decided to start the map idea today. You went west towards the plane. There were enough animals that you both felt comfortable not fishing for the day, so you could devote more time to mapping the area. Today was the hottest day this week, and just walking to the front door from getting dressed made you sweat like a pig.

“Alright, I’m going to head north, and you go to the plane, try to find out what's beyond that big ass tree.” Natalie says to you casually as she readjusts the rifle strap on her shoulder. She looks over you softly.

You nod as you hold onto the strap of your purse, which you emptied to use as your forage bag—it just so happens to hold your remaining cigarettes. “Okay, I’ll try to get back at sundown, but I might take some rest.”

“Please do. Try to get under some shade and stay out of the sun.”

“I’ll try. You better try, too. You're so pale you’ll get sunburnt just standing right here.”

Natalie chuckled and shook her head, turning herself around to walk in her direction for her hunting, “Sundown!”

You smile and turn away towards the trail, “Sundown!”

You then march forward in the familiar trail down the forest. The way to the plane crash was like the back of your hand at this point. The once long and narrow path has become comfortable to travel through from Natalie and Travis.

The heat surrounded your skin, creating a sticky film that dripped down every curve of your plush body. You felt a sweat drop from your back and collect on your bra’s clasp. The heat was getting to you, but you kept yourself under the shade of the tall trees. You would have already been resting if you were directly under the sun.

A pale-barked tree with lime leaves had dark branch scars on its flesh, standing at a curve in the trail, looking like almond eyes staring down at you in random directions. It was natural for birch trees to have lower branches to break off so that the plant could focus on the top branches that face the sun, but the scars of the branches falling age into the almost furrowed fiber. It was unreal but completely natural. As it was unnerving, it was beautiful. You stop yourself in awe at the simple, complex, tall plant; it is skinny but tall enough to be at least 50 years old and 60 feet tall and stare up in wonder at the peaks of sunlight through the cotyledon. As you gently let your eyes glance down, the slight curve of its shape as it comes to its base.

The symbol stares at you. You softly raise your eyebrow as you stare down at the carving. It had to be new because it was at eye level with you, but it was faded enough not to be made by one of your teammates. Was it the mummy in the attic that made this? Or was it someone else? You were always so confused as you looked at the odd shape in the bark that your finger ran across the image out of a sudden urge. Your finger glides against the triangle, the short arms of the descending sides, the long diagonal line that crosses the entire shape, a crowned circle to the point on the top, and then a crooked hook at the base. You sighed to yourself as you moved away from the birch tree to continue on the trail. Your finger tingled with the friction.

You passed the old plane with a stiff, steady foot away from the eerie sight. Since the crash, you had wanted nothing to do with planes. The thought alone of being suspended in the air made your heart squeeze in your chest, and your stomach turn. You didn’t look at the white exterior as you rushed past the beast.

When you get past the wide thick dark brown oak tree, aka big ass tree, that had moss dominating the left side, at least 150 years old, you walk forward on the tall grass. You look down at the ground and try to find anything worth taking back as you walk forward, making the map a wonderful excuse to forage.

The summer has been a little dry in the last few weeks, with insufficient rain. The grass is turning brown in places as you move forward. The ground was barren of any nuts or mushrooms. You glace up, and you pause.

In front of you was the old, wide, thick tree again, and the plane was just behind you again. You looked behind yourself to be sure of it.

The plane was behind you again like you hadn’t walked at least five feet away from it.

A breeze brushed against your side, moving the baby hairs on your cheek as you studied the tree in front of you in confusion.

The timber has deep lines embedded in the tree's grain, and the moss grew on every pendant's surface. The swirls of the fiber were enchanting to look at and find where the line goes, but you pull yourself back from the beauty of the wood. You pull your crop top up to your face and wipe the multiple drops of sweat trailing down your nose and cheeks.

You march forward with some determination, trying to solve this problem. It made no sense.

You walk past the mossy oak tree again and go towards the crowd of trees in front of you that goes on and on. Your eyebrow quirks stay on your forehead as you continue on your journey.

And you walk forward towards the detritus as expected. The crunch of dead leaves and branched cry under your feet as you walk faster forward. Your eyes softened as you glanced around the environment, and you felt the uneasiness of whatever happened to melt from your shoulders. You reason that you must have turned yourself around when looking down at the mushrooms. You feel your mind wander as you march forward. You look up absentmindedly to look at the leaves above your head for some kind of entertainment.

Your eyes level back to their natural direction, and when you do, they widen in terror.

The cabin was before you, and Natalie was next to you. She looked at you nonchalantly and said, “Please do. Try to get under some shade and stay out of the sun.”

You freeze in place as you stare at the bleach blonde with a cold sweat coming over you. You felt the sweat collected from the hike you just had, and it felt like you spilled in time back to your conversation over 45 minutes ago.

“Hey, are you alright?” Natalie asked concernedly, her hand touching your upper arm to reassure you. She noticed how much you were sweating and was completely confused. How could you be so sweaty from walking from the cabin to the fire pit??

You just stare into her eyes, feeling scared, “Wha-what?”

“I said to stay out of the sun. Are you alright? Are you sure you're up for it today? It’s really hot.” Natalie says as she looks you over. She notices the pale complexion on your face and how your hands softly shake. “We haven’t looked past the tree, but you shouldn’t be scared.”

It was like you didn’t walk away. It felt wrong. This was wrong.

“I know, sorry! I’m getting a little lightheaded because my period is coming.” You lie, trying to find any excuse for acting so strange to her.

She raised an eyebrow and questioned what was happening to the girl beside her, and she said, “Okay… Just take some water with you. Take as many breaks as you need.”

“I will.” You say and nod. You must have imagined walking past the plane if you hadn’t left this conversation like nothing happened. You take the plastic red water bottle Natalie handed you with a soft smile and worried eyes.

“(Y/n), if you get tired, just head home. We can always come back to it; don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’ll try not to. I will come back as soon as possible, I promise.”

“Okay, try to get back at sunset, " she says as she softly steps back and starts to head in her direction to hunt. Her gun hits the back of her thigh as she stares you down. Please don’t overdo It.”

“Okay, be careful,” you mutter back to her as you watch her walk off in her direction as she did in the morning. You remember everything, and it’s happening again.

You shook your head to yourself as you turned yourself around, “I’m fucking crazy.” You thought as you walked the trail again, but you knew for certain you had traveled, and there was no question in the ache of your feet.

You get to the carved birch tree once again with its dark eyes. You don’t give it or the plane so much of a glance as you continue to the mossy oak.

You felt focused on your mission to understand how you got turned around so badly when you got back home, ignoring the fact you walked into a conversation you already had. You let your hand touch the moss on the left side of the oak as a marker in your memory if it was truly tricking you.

As the hour passes, you rush to see beyond the oak tree and familiar trees. You just needed a landmark to find it to draw, and you would head back. It didn’t need to be so confusing. You walk past the oak tree to the sea of timber to find a boring environment again, no trail to have your eyes look down to or rocks to stumble on, as you see the sparkles of light and birds resting in branches above. Your focus again relaxed even with your sharp mind, and your eyes glance down to your shoes again.

Your eyes look at your laces as you walk forward in routine. You took a deep breath as you tried to calm the nerves building in your body, and as you looked up, it felt like it shot whatever efforts you made to soothe yourself. You still your movements to the feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach.

Again, the pale-barked tree with lime leaves stares back at you on the curve of the trail. You didn’t understand. It doesn’t make sense.

You walked straight past the oak tree, glancing behind the birch tree to peek at the fat tree standing in the background of the plane. Then, you closed your eyes slowly.

Your lower lip quivers as your eyebrows furrow, and your teeth catch your salty lip. You swallow the spit collecting in your cheeks, holding a cry in your throat—a big drop of sweat rolls down your neck from the back of your head.

Why are you so emotional right now?

Why does it feel pointless? All of it. The trail, the map, the fucking point of trying to find a way out. It felt like everything was up against you, and you know rationally that it was mostly true.

You weren’t going to help anything. You are not fit enough to go more than a mile before you get tired, and you can’t help but get lost.

It’s a trail in the ground. How could you get turned around in circles?

Halting in your tracks, you covered your tear-covered eyes as watery tears ran down your cheeks, mixing with your sweat.

You don’t know what to do.

“Dad would know what to do. He knew what to do for everything out here.” You thought as your lip curls in a deep frown, pushing down a sob to the bottom of your stomach.

You wanted to hit yourself on the side of your head, and you wanted to scream into the bright green leaves that looked down at you with indifference.

You didn’t listen to your dad about everything. You wanted to hit yourself for every time you didn’t listen, and you didn’t care about what he was saying, didn’t absorb everything he gave you so lovingly. You wanted to crawl into his arms and be rocked like you were as a child. You wanted to feel the safety of his strong chest and arms around you. You are never going to feel it again.

The river ran down your cheeks as your feet started to march forward.

You felt stupid. Ashamed somehow. And overwhelmingly devastated.

It was fucking hotter than hell outside.

You slap your hand that covers your eyes to your side. You look down at your shoes, walking through the dry grass and dirt. You say to yourself, as you hiccup a cry, “This sucks.”

As you expected, you look to find the brown curvy tree again. You stop again as you wipe away the sweat from your brow and the wetness collecting at your upper lip. A breeze gracefully brushes against your back.

You sigh as you focus on yourself again. You wipe your face again with your black crop top and wipe your clammy hands on your thighs. You walked on. It felt like you were walking into a wall and expecting something different.

As you walk forward, you look at the oak tree, which is mossy and dominates the right side of the plant. This made you pause again this morning. As you stared at the tree, you wanted to pull your hair from the roots.

Wasn’t the moss on the left side?

You couldn’t be mistaken. You knew this tree. It’s the tree you slept under when the aftermath cuddled beside Jackie and Shauna. It was the tree you collected kindling for your first fire out here. The moss was on the left.

You fucking touched it, for god sake. You are not crazy.

Why is it now on the right?

You put your hand on the mossy side as you walked past it not even 15 minutes ago. You don’t know how you could have been turned around from looking down at your feet. It was in the direction you left from; it was on the left, not the right.

You threw your hands up in defeat, and a dry laugh came from your throat, tears streaming down again. You were too hot to think straight, but you felt an itch in your skin. You were so confused.

You walk towards the right side, lift your leg over a thorny bush, and start walking forward.

It wasn’t like it was before. It was a rocky and uneven terrain that made your aching feet uncomfortable. The crowd of trees was as it always was. You hiccuped at the end of your cries.

You stumble on a sharp rock, fall forward, and catch yourself with your knees and elbows on the grass.

You hiss a moan of pain, and you sit up on your knees. You wipe dirt and blades of grass from your elbows. You look back up to the dark branch scars of the single birch tree at the curve in the trail.

You didn’t cry this time as you stood up. You sniffled and looked on with fear. You are losing it. Maybe you're having heatstroke?

The birch tree with lime leaves and eyes staring down at you with almost a mocking laugh. You felt a scowl grow on your lip as you walked forward stubbornly. You just fucking can’t understand.

You think for a moment and can’t remember this strange birch tree. You don’t remember when you and Taissa found the lake, and you don’t even remember a curve in the trail. You thought birch trees grow in their groves and asexually sprout saplings around themselves. Sure, the seeds could have been eaten and taken to this specific spot, but not a single seedling for an adult healthy tree made no sense.

Nothing fucking made sense.

You find yourself in front of the oak tree again, almost dizzy from the turning around you have done today. The sun's heat beats on the crown of your head, and you feel a boiling sensation. You stare down at the bark of the oak, seeing the moss collect on the left side as it always has.

It was like the trees were messing with you and laughing. The leaves stare down at you with a snicker on their lips.

“Fuck it.” You spat out in frustration. You didn’t stop your leg kicking out to the tree, kicking the moss. The growth softly lands on the sole of your shoe and the tow box of your beaten shoes. You give up. “I don’t get it.” You say to yourself as a breeze comes over your burning face.

You turn around and see the curve of the birch tree move. You pause again as you look on, glaring at the change. You are paranoid.

The tree’s bark and scars moved in front of your eyes, and the curve on the side of the wood slinked into what seemed like a feminine hip.

You feel like you weren’t in your body as you wanted the tree morph in front of you. It completely moved two smaller scars to the center eye level to you, and it seemed to slowly open one of the scars like someone waking up from a deep sleep.

(Y/e/c) flashes in the new pocket as you feel your body launch back to the trail, running back to the cabin. You felt a scream rip out of your lip as you ran past the tree with a chill tickling your spine.

And you ran.

You look behind yourself to see a sapling next to the birch tree. It looked like a woman with her arms above her head, and what could have been hair stood up tall, her fingers connecting with her hair with leaves and seeds dancing. The body curves and leans to the side as if it looks at you running away with a studying eye.

You don’t look back after that. You stumble and panic your way through the sunsetting light. You felt unaware tears spilling as you tried to stay straight on the trail.

The sun was set when you reached the cabin, and the stars shone brightly above you. Time must have escaped you like your sanity. You puff out the pants of breath you had, and you can’t help yourself from feeling exhausted.

Natalie and Shauna sat at the porch steps waiting for you, the spring from their spot as they heard your footsteps.

“Oh my god, (y/n)!” “Dude! I said sunset! We were about to go out to look for you!”

You pant as you come to the two girls. They grab your sweaty form, and you look down to the ground as a sharp breath travels down your throat. You wanted to vomit how much you were exerting yourself. You knew you couldn’t tell the truth; they didn’t need to know how bad you were getting.

“I’m so sorry! I fell asleep and woke up, and I rushed back! Am alright, just fucking ran like hell.”

Shauna chuckles and punches your arm harshly, “You could have been hurt! Of course, you were just napping!”

Natalie shook her head softly at the confession and chuckled, but her eyes remained stern. " You can’t be trusted alone anymore. I have to babysit you because you need your baby naps.”

“Shut the fuck up.” You huffed in your still panting breath. You point your middle finger at Natalie as the two laugh, pulling you towards the cabin. Something bothers your foot inside your shoe, making you want to kick it off.

You follow them without a fight, and a growl in your stomach loudly grumbles as you enter the cabin. Most of the others were in their sleeping bags and makeshift beds on the ground of the living space, some in the kitchen.

Misty sits up from her spot and whispers, “Is (y/n) back?”

“Yeah, she's here. All's good.” Shauna says to Misty as she walks past you to the kitchen. “I’m getting your dinner.”

“Me too.” Natalie says as she follows behind Shauna with a concerned face.

Misty sits down with a big smile and says, “I’m happy you're back, (y/n).”

“Thank you.” You say to her without smiling, moving yourself to your bags.

You wanted to peel the sticky fabric off your body, completely change every piece of clothing you had, and take another bath.

“Is she back?” You heard Coach Scott ask the girls in the other room with sleep in his voice. There was a conversation you would hear, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to listen to. You wanted to lay down on your pillow.

It seemed well past 10 while everyone took a rest. You couldn’t wrap your head around how what felt like a 3-hour journey into an 11-hour one. You didn’t have the energy to care much, though. As you pulled your shoe from your foot, a pile of moss stumbled out from the inside, littering your sock with small moss fur.

You throw your shoe to the side, rip your sock off, and moss is even between your toes.

You stood up, disgusted and anxious. You pulled your crop top off, wanting to shred every piece of the day away. Then, you pulled a long pink shirt from your jean shorts, and lime-colored leaves fell inside your clothes.

The birch tree leaves.

You look down at the floor beside your feet at the pile of leaves and moss all around you as if you rolled around in the earth. You looked at your hands to find dirt under your nails as if you were digging for roots.

“(Y/n)?”

You turn your head sharply at Jackie. She lays beside your makeshift bed and looks up at you with big eyes. “Are you okay, (y/n)? You seem spazzed out.”

You shook your head and said, “I think I started my period, and I am covered in dirt.”

She chuckled and said, “That sucks, okay! I freak out every time I bleed out here.”

You nodded your head with a chuckle, lost in your own head, “Yeah, now I have to clean-“

When you look down at the ground, you see only a birch leaf and moss fur.

“I have to clean myself.” You finish your sentence, and you rub your eyes. “I think the heat is getting to me, too.”

“It’s okay! Lay under the window.” Jackie smiles as if she solved the problem and closes her eyes.

You were going fucking crazy.

❀ A03 ❀ wattpad ❀ spotify playlist ❀

Taglist: @zhivaxo @h-doodles @homopheli @bigtimesalt8196 @juniperjean @scatorccioz @juniperjean @yaakooi @lottieswebs @juchily @freezinggay @deathly710-blog @ghostoflesbianism @marvelous-wandanatangel @errriiie @anskkks @deathvidal @slutforhotpeople @thursdayygrrrl @day-ziez @evewasheretoday @mayasaurusss @captainbabybear @eleanormall @mommyeater2000 @leonchef @mikititta @tigersarrcool @nyasbae @dykepvppy @jax1118 @oakwave @mmiah @dvrkhcld @swiftin0f @opheliadeservedbetter-27 @psychicdreamwonderland @pinkmoonzzz @under-your-bed-not-in-it @sadsapphic-rose @fictitious-sapphic @gayandfairycore @lttllmb @gigabitemyass @happy647 @alyssaisntdoingalright @kandicanesworld @theworldscalamity @yeziisblog @bigbenis4life @shuribabymama @ih3artjooo @goldusttt @grimzzuhhhhhhh @sapphic-lil-lime @powercake @urmommyluvrr @astrasmindpalace @cstar-hi @only3my

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lillypad910 · 6 months ago

Text

Christmas with the Emersons

Eddie Munson x Emerson! Girly! Fem! Reader

Part 2 of Brother's Best Friend!

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, pin, protected sex (follow their example!), a lot of fluff, giggly cuteness, Christmas celebrations, not pre-read, might have errors, Reader is Gareth's little sister

Summary: After 6 months of dating Eddie, you're reminded of the Christmas get together your family throws every year. This time, Eddie is invited- or, "your boyfriend" is, since your family isn't aware of that person being Eddie Munson yet. Will they be excited for you? Or will your brother have something to say about it?

a/n: this took so long and I know its late but shush.

Big thanks to my girl Mare at @munsonsmixtapes for giving me her time to help me wrap this bitch up!

It is December 1st of 1992, the cold air outside leaks through your not-greatly-sealed windows into your apartment. Your heater broke on you last week, and you’ve been waiting for the landlord to send a guy to fix it. Fortunately, your new-ish boyfriend was kind enough to stick around until it’s fixed.

Lounging across the couch, on top of your boyfriend, Eddie, you bury yourself into his chest. He chuckles as your hair spreads across his skin, pulling the blanket that’s wrapped around you both more over your shoulders. “You ok, sweetheart?” He asks, running his fingers through your hair to clear a spot for you to look up at him through.

You do so, blowing air to push a strand he missed out of the way, “No, I’m cold.” You give him a playful glare, not actually meaning it, of course.

“Aww, I’m sorry,” he wraps his arms around you more snuggly, “I know another way to warm you up…” he smirks. Your cheeks flush, slapping your forehead against his chest once again, making him laugh.

To be honest, even though you and Eddie have been dating for 5 months now, since that fateful concert back in June, you haven’t done anything…physical. Besides the heated make out sessions and getting to your underwear before backing out. Thankfully, Eddie is really understanding about it all.

“Not… yet.” You mentally groan out the words, straining your brain.

His lips press to your forehead, smiling softly, “I know, Sweetheart, I was just teasing.” He pulls you closer to him, sitting up in his spot on the couch. He places his finger around your chin pulling you towards him, pressing his lips to yours. You hum into the kiss, still amazed at how you were able to actually start dating your teenage-self’s crush.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, as his tongue swipes your bottom lip. Just as his tongue breaches your lips- your phone rings.

You groan, dropping your head to his shoulder for a second before pushing off of him, yanking the blanket with you. He is yanked off the couch in the process, a soft yelp leaves him as you make your way to the counter where your phone is stationed.

“Hello?” You answer, holding the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Sweetie! It’s Mom!” Your mother’s recognizable voice echos through the speaker, her cheerful attitude as perky as ever.

“Hey, Mom,” you glance at Eddie as his head pops up to look at you as you address who you are talking to, “What’s up?”

“Oh nothing much, just trying to figure out what we are all doing for this year’s Christmas party, you know. Now that Garrett is married, you have a whole new boyfriend none of us have met before, everything’s different.”

You never told your family who you were dating, not even his name. You just said you started seeing someone, and that you promised they would meet him when you brought him home. You didn’t think about the Christmas party your parents host every year when you made that promise. That’s bad planning on your end.

“Oh yeah…” you hesitate, “I honestly kinda forgot, haha…” your mom hums in response.

“I figured as much, but not to worry! I’ve already got your room all ready for you to arrive in two weeks. And when you and that mysterious boy get here, you can help us go pick out a tree, decorate it, help me prep meals and all the goodies for-“

Your mother talks on and on about all the tasks you will have to do when you get there. You like Christmas, you really do, especially when you were still at home and could help your mom prepare everything so early in the month to make sure everything was perfect. “The Emerson Way” as your dad called it, perfection was the only outcome for Christmas. But god, did you just wanna stay home, in your cold apartment with your warm-bodied boyfriend.

“Mom,” you call out to her, and she shushes herself quickly, “let me talk about it with him, ok? I need to be sure he can even come this year.” You explain.

She gasps, “Oh my lord, of course!! I’ll let you go so you can give him a call. I love you!”

“Love you, Mom.” You hang up the phone.

Obviously you are not about to call Eddie Munson’s apartment, so you turn around. “Eds, code red. It’s Christmas.” Eddie looks at you confused, finally lifting himself off the ground.

“Yeah? I know, it’s December.” He chuckles a bit.

“No, Eddie, you don’t get it. It’s Christmas. The Emerson’s Christmas Party?” You gesture to your phone as you watch him blink.

God, you love him but sometimes his brain is ‘head empty, no thoughts’.

“Sweetie,” you step closer to him, placing your hands on the sides of his face. “My family hosts a party every Christmas Eve. I’m a required guest, and now so are you.” It hits him.

“Oh- Oh no.” Eddie hasn’t spoken to your brother, his ex best friend, in six years. At the time they were besties you were a simple 16 year old girl that he never thought of as more than just ‘Gareth’s little sister.’ Now you’re his girlfriend. “Oh I’m dead. Oh sweetheart, he’s gonna kill me.” Eddie hisses in a breath, wrapping his arms around himself. He may have just been cold but you also think it’s because he’s genuinely uncomfortable with this news.

“He’s not gonna kill you, Gareth doesn’t have the heart for that. Besides, Cindy wouldn’t let him even if he tried. Can’t have her husband in jail with a baby on the way.” You let out a soft laugh, trying to joke.

“Eds, I promise it will be fine.” You give his nose a soft kiss. “When do we leave…?” He asks, eyes wide with anticipation. “Two weeks…?” You awkwardly smile. He yelps.

The two weeks fly by fast, and before you know it, it’s December 14th and you’re passing the ‘Wecome to Hawkins’ sign as you cross over the town line.

“Haven’t seen that sign in a while.” Eddie speaks genuinely, it has been 6 years since he was last in Hawkins.

“Oddly enough I’ve seen it more in recent years than I ever did living in Hawkins.” You explain to him, watching the trees pass the car as you come into familiar territory.

Driving up the long driveway of your home you see a familiar car parked outside, your brother’s car. You and Eddie glance at each other, before turning off the car and stepping out onto the pavement into the cold crisp air of Hawkins, Indiana.

You don’t grab your luggage just yet, too nervous to bother with it right now. As you step towards the front door, Eddie follows close after.

It’s weird, he’s always felt welcomed at your house in the past, felt like part of the family. But now he feels like a total stranger, like a bear stepping into a bush with a hidden trap.

You ring the doorbell, rolling back and forth on your heels as you wait impatiently for the bright smile of your mother. “Coming!!” You hear a sing-song voice call out, and you’re both able to get in one final deep breath before the front door opens.

“(Y/n)!” Your mother opens the door, all smiles like usual, pulling you into a hug, “It’s so good to see you, dear!” She pulls away and looks up at Eddie. “Well as I live and breathe!” She smiles at him. “Is that really you, Eddie Munson? My, you’ve grown quite a lot!” She holds up her hand to graze his head before pulling him into a bone crushing hug.

“It’s good to see you too, Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie hugs her back.

When she pulls away she smiles happily, “Oh, please, call me Donna, Eddie. I’ve known you since you were a kid! It’s only fair.” She turns back to you after patting his arm. “Sweetie, I thought you said you were bringing your boyfriend? Not that I’m complaining, Eddie Munson is forever a welcome face in this house,” she smiles at him again before facing you once more.

“Mom,” you smile at her, “meet my boyfriend.” You gesture to Eddie beside you. “Eddie.”

Donna Lynn Emerson looks up at Eddie, her smile growing wider before her eyes close and few words leave her breath, “Oh thank you, Jesus.” “What?” You ask. “Sweetie, I love you, you know that,” you mom pats your arm, “but when you told us you weren’t gonna tell us anything about your boyfriend until we met him, we all thought he was gonna be some biker or gang member.”

She turns to Eddie and taps the side of her head, “Parents brains go to the worst outcomes.” “So… you’re not mad…?” You ask, a little shocked by the chill reaction.

“(Y/n), you’ve had a crush on this boy since you were 14. You’re living the teenage girl dream, Sweetie, I don’t judge.” She smiles at you, “Besides, It’s Eddie. I know his Uncle, knew his dad, his mom, shit I knew this kid’s grandma on both sides.” She laughs to herself.

“But we are four years apart…? That doesn’t concern you?” Your mom’s face go dead serious, making the both of you jump at the sudden change in expression.

“Sweetie, I’m 7 years younger than your dad, and we married when I was 19. You’re a 22 year old woman who can make her own choices.”

“Anyways!! Come in!! Get out of the cold!” She drags you both into the house.

Stepping into the familiar entry way, you take off your coats and shoes, sitting them by the door and respectable hooks. You mother leads you both into the kitchen, where you are met with a very familiar face.

“Cindy!” You smile and run up to the girl, throwing your arms around her. “(Y/n)!! Hi!” Cindy laughs and pulls you to her, but you be careful not to squish her too hard on her belly.

Gareth and Cindy got married nearly two years ago now during February of 1991. They met 5 years ago when Gareth moved away for college. You will never forget that Christmas of 1988 when you met her, been friends ever since. You honestly questioned who side you would be on if they divorced. You love your brother, but it’s Cindy.

“How have you been? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to call you last week, life got a little hectic.” She laughs running her hand over her baby bump.

“I’ve been good! And no worries! My heater broke a couple weeks ago so I’ve been just shivering in the cold since then, honestly this might be my vacation.” You laugh a bit.

She giggles before turning her attention to Eddie, “This must be the guy!!” She holds out her hand to him, “So lovely to finally meet you! (Y/n) never told us your name so I apologize for the awkwardness of the family.”

Eddie shakes her hand, smiling at her, “oh it’s fine, I actually-”

“Munson?” A voice comes from behind you all and Cindy tilts her head.

You both turn around and there in the door way is your dear brother. “Shit. Holly shit!” Gareth, as if reverting back to 17 practically tackles his old friend. “Dude! It’s been what? Almost seven years? Where the fuck did you go?” He pulls away, smacking his old friend’s arm.

Eddie looks like a relief was weighed off him, “I needed to get out of town, moved to Indianapolis, been living there ever since, though I’ve actually gone on tour a few times now.” Eddie snickers and Gareth chuckles.

“Yeah, no shit! Jeff and I found out there was a band called ‘Corroded Coffin’ and nearly fainted!” He turns to his wife who smiles at him. “Oh! Eddie,” Gareth squeezes through the two of you, wrapping his arms around the woman your age, “meet Cindy. She’s my wife.” He’s practically glowing when sharing this knowledge.

Eddie tilts towards you and not even bothering to whisper goes, “I see why you say they are meant for each other.” You snicker and Gareth glares at you.

A moment of laughter washes over all of you though, but Gareth stops first, “so, why are you here, man? Not that I’m complaining, just-“

“Oh!” Eddie, blissfully innocent Eddie, smiles at his old best friend before throwing his arm around your shoulders. “I’m (y/n)’s mystery boyfriend! Isn’t that cool?” As if clockwork, Gareth’s arms drop from his wife, his smile drops, and he stares at Eddie.

“I’m sorry,” he glances at you before looking back at the tall guy, “repeat that?”

“Eds-“ you go to press your arm against him.

“I’m her boyfriend! Isn’t that cool?” Eddie chuckles a bit, obviously more nervous than the first time he said it.

“You son of a-“ Gareth doesn’t even finish before tackling him, arm wrapped around his neck, locking him in a choke hold. Eddie flails around like a fish out of water, “I told you she’s off limits! When the fuck in all those years did I stutter!”

Gareth bumps into everything almost knocking over Grandma’s vase before, “Gareth!” The entire house goes silent. Your mother, the sweet woman that she is, struts into the kitchen and practically rips your brother off your boyfriend. “Eddie, dear, are you ok?”

“Him!?” Gareth yells, utterly shocked.

“Yes, Gareth! Him!” She glared at him, making your brother’s back go pencil straight.

Gotta hand it to Mom, she’s a sweet one, but god damn you don’t wanna be in the cross fire of her glare.

“I’m ok, Mrs. Emerson.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, “kinda deserves that honestly.” He lets out a chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” you step forward, turning towards the nitwit you call a brother. “Off limits?”

“Oh,” Gareth hesitates, “I made the guys promise to never date you. I know them, trust me you don’t wanna know everything about them.” You gesture to Eddie.

“Kinda been living under the same roof with this one for a good few weeks now, trust me what ever you know, I know.” Eddie blushes covering his face in his hands.

“Sweetheart, no…” He knew what Gareth was meaning, and god knows you have not discovered yet.

“What?” You question.

“I hate to ask, but if I don’t it’s gonna bother me,” Gareth takes a deep breath, “Have you two-“

“no!” You speak a little too quickly for everyone in the room, “no… not- oh my god, Gareth. Why are you like this?” You hold your head in your hands.

Gareth raises his hands up defensively. “Sorry.”

It doesn’t take long for everyone to get comfortable again. Gareth takes Eddie out to the garage with your dad and talks, you, your mom, and Cindy all stand around the kitchen, helping your mom do some Christmas baking.

“So,” your mom smiles at you, “Where did you meet Eddie again? He mentioned living in Indianapolis?” You roll the rolling pin over the homemade cookie dough on the counter, pressing it flat.

“Steph had tickets to his show, though I didn’t know it was his show when she invited us.” You explain, checking the width of the flattened dough.

“That’s fun! Did you meet him during the show?”

“Half time, and then met up with him again after. Jenny was there too.”

“How is Jenny? I haven’t seen her in a while.” Your mother changes the subject.

“Good, she’s dating this new guy, I’ve met him once. He’s cool.”

“Good for her.” Your mother smiles.

Cindy comes up by you with the container of cookie cutters. You both take a few and start cutting out Christmas shapes from the dough. “It’s good to have you home.” Cindy nudges you with her shoulder, “This town is so boring without you.”

“Aww, thanks, Cindy.” You smile at her.

“Your father has been a pain, claiming he needs to come see you every week. I kept telling him off about it.” Your mother jumps in.

“Gareth too, when you called us and complained about your heating being out, he was about to drive down and come fix it for you.” Cindy chimes in. You giggle at their claims, happy to know your brother and father still want to take care of you even though you’re a good bit away now.

After a little more baking and cookie decorating, the men come back in from the garage, beers empty and ready to eat. Eddie steps over to you, wrapping his arm around your waist and hugging you from behind. He leans down and kisses your cheek. “Having fun?” You ask him, smiling at the small kiss.

“Yeah, it’s nice to catch up with your dad and Gareth.” He leans his head against yours.

After you all eat, your mother notices the time, and quickly shoos everyone off to bed. “We need to get up bright and early! Tree shopping isn’t going to do itself!”

You step up to your old room, Eddie close behind you as you open the door. “Whoa,” Eddie mumbles from behind you. You look across the room. It’s the exact same, the pink walls, white carpet, and baby blue bed spread.

“Don’t judge,” you glance back at him before stepping in, dropping your bag - that you finally got from the car - onto the floor.

Eddie steps into the room, glancing around at the pictures you have on your walls. There’s a painting he remembers you painted in art in your Freshman year, the mirror over your dresser, and a ABBA poster taped on your closet door.

As he steps closer to your mirror, he looks over the photos tucked into the frame. Pictures of you and Jenny in middle school, you and Gareth in the yard as little kids, and one more. You and him, a picture Gareth took the night you were at their concert back then. He was smiling at the camera in that picture, his arm thrown over your shoulders.

“That’s cute.” You look over at him, seeing the photo he points to.

“Oh- um, yeah…” you feel your cheeks heating up, looking back down at your bag. Eddie steps closer to you, placing his hand on you cheek and pulling you closer to him. His lips press to your forehead, soft and sweet.

“You’re cute,” his words are simple but to the point. “You make it hard to forget,” you let out a soft laugh.

The next morning, you wake in your old bed, the alarm on your night stand ringing out. You press the ‘off’ button before throwing yourself back against the mattress. You look over to where you left your boyfriend last night, but the spot is already empty. Then, the door to your room opens.

Stepping into the dim room, Eddie smiles at you with a mug in hand, “good morning, sweetheart. I brought you some coffee.” He makes his way around the bed as you sit up, before hanging the mug over to you.

Taking it you look down at the contents of the mug. “You didn’t have to do that, Eds, but thank you.”

“Of course!” He crouches down by the bed, smiling like a kid in a candy store as you take your first sip.

“Mm! You’re making my coffee every morning now. This is so good.”

After a semi-slow morning, you come downstairs fully dressed and ready for the day, your family all ready in the kitchen. “Finally, the bear leaves her cave.” Gareth snickers. You roll your eyes at him, “Oh, shut up.”

Your family piles into your mom’s Chevy Suburban. Your dad driving, mom shotgunning, Cindy and you in the middle row, and Eddie and Gareth in the back. The ride is nice, your mom having the Christmas station playing on the radio, with you and Cindy (mostly) perfectly singing every song it plays. Gareth and Eddie banging their hands against the back of your seats to the beat.

After your dad pulls the SUV into the local “Mary’s Trees,” the place everyone in Hawkin’s buys their Christmas trees, you all fumble out of the brick on wheels, Eddie nearly falling out himself. You all are quickly greeted by an associate, one you remember well from high school.

“Welcome, Emerson Family!” Tiffany Fraser, a girl who was on the cheer squad in your high school, smiles and greets your mom and dad with open arms. Her blond hair blown out and curled, perfectly pulled back into a high pony tail. “Coming by a little later this year, but don’t worry, I have some perfect trees to show you!”

Your mother smiles at Tiffany and loops arms with her before letting herself be dragged off, “Please share! I’ve been dying to get decorating!”

It doesn’t take long for your parents and brother to begin to make their way through the forest of Christmas trees for sale. You take this opportunity to fall back and hang with your obviously intrigued boyfriend.

Eddie’s eyes dart all around the area, the subtle glitter in his eye reminds you of childhood wonder. “You doing ok, Eds?” You ask him, stepping into an easy pace with him as you both follow behind your family.

“Hmm?” Eddie’s head snaps to your direction, before getting distracted again, “Yeah, yeah… didn’t realize how many trees would be here. How do you pick just one?”

You blink. What?

“What do you mean?” The question came out a little more harsh than you intended but you were genuinely confused, “have you never been tree shopping before?”

“I mean…” Eddie hesitates.

He had gone with his uncle Wayne once to pick out a tree. Though it was in a box and he had gotten it from one of the few chain stores in Hawkins. It’s a memory he will hold on to forever.

“Once. With Wayne, but it was a fake tree. I didn’t realize people actually bought real trees to decorate.” His eyes glance over the rows and rows of living trees that the farm has on display.

Something about that made you feel weird. You never even thought about that. Eddie grew up in the trailer park down the road with his Uncle Wayne. They wereon the poorer side, not having much money and Eddie mostly wearing hand-me-downs from Wayne until he could buy his own clothes. For some reason you didn't realise how different you two grew up. But suddenly this Christmas tree meant more to you.

"Hey, Mom?" You get your mother's attention, and she turns to you, stopping her conversation with Tiffany.

"Yes, dear?" Her voice is as joyful as always.

“In honor of Eddie joining us this year, can he pick the tree?" You know you're asking for a lot from your family, especially your mother. Donna Lynn loves Christmas. She loves to have full control over it.

"What a great idea!" Her voice seems to go higher, causing people around you to glance over, "Of course! Eddie, please do us the honors of picking out the tree this year!" Eddie glances at you with a look of pure concern. You pat his back lightly and lead him towards the front of the party. "Tiffany, you remember Eddie from high school, right?" Your mother asks her.

You remember Tiffany hated your brother and his friends in high school, and now she was being made to be nice to him.

"I do, nice to see you again, Eddie." Tiffany smiles and you can tell its a bit strained. She continues with, "Let me show you some trees they might like, that way you at least know you did something right..." The second part was mumbled under her breath, but you heard it, and so did Eddie based on his expression.

"What was that?" You ask, quite loudly so your mother looks over, interested. "Hmm?" Tiffany looks over at you, "oh nothing, just speaking to myself, haha." She turns around quickly after getting a weird look from your mother, but luckely no further comment was made.

It takes a while of Tiffany showing the metalhead different trees, him getting your mother's input before he finally decides on a wide 7ft tree. The cielings in your house were taller downstairs so your mom told him it was alright. When you got home, the boys help move the tree into the living room, while your mom, Cindy, and you migrated to the kitchen. The first thing you noticed on the island was the Christmas recipe tin from your Granny.

"Are we making anything tonight?" Cindy asks, situating herself on one of the stools as she opens the tin to go thorugh the recipes. You walk up behind her and lean over her shoulder.

“We can, but it will have to make something that will be fine for the next week." Donna replies, washing her hands at the kitchen sink. "Any ideas?" Cindy looks up to you.

"Maybe the Peanut Brittle? Ohh, or the Buckeye Balls!" You snatch the recipe card for the Reese's-like recipe out of the tin the moment you see it.

Your mother giggles, "You did always like that one... How about this, Cindy and I make the Brittle, and you and Eddie make the Buckeye Balls?" your mother suggests. You smile, excited to finally have the best holidy treat just sitting in the fridge, begging to be eaten by none other than yourself.

Eddie comes in with Gareth and your dad, who both walk straight up to their wifes. "Tree is up and ready to be decorated!" Your father sallutes your mother, making her giggle. He kisses her cheek before stepping over to the fridge and pulling out a coke.

"That tree was heavy..." Eddie steps up to you from behind and sits his chin on your shoulder, "Gareth and I both had to hold it straight while your dad bolted it into the stand, but damn."

You nod, leaning your head onto his, "hmm, now think how my dad feels doing that every year while we were kids, and Gareht didn't start helping until he was thirteen." You glance over at your brother who shuffles through the recipe cards.

"Don't look at me like that." Gareth doesn't even look up at you.

“How do you always know?" You ask, which inclines him to turn to you.

"I can feel the burning rays of your eyes staring straight into my head. You've never been a subtle starer."

You smack your hand to your chest, faking insult. "How dare you! I'm an amazing starer!"

Gareth rolls his eyes before looking at Eddie. "This is who you're settling for?"

Oh now you're insulted. "Hey-!"

"Enough!" Your mother gets your attention, making both you and Gareth look over at her, "I'm stopping that before it even begins... God, behave, both of you." 'Behave' was strained, you'd obviously annoyed her with your sibling banter. "Eddie, (y/n), you two make the Buckeyeballs. Gareth, Cindy, would you two make the Peanut Brittle?"

"Of course!" Cindy gives her award winning smile, but your brother just hums in response. "Thank you."

"Wait, what are you and dad gonna go do?" Gareth asks, his teenage self coming through, and you swear you just experienced some deja vu.

“Mom and I are gonna go sit our asses on the cough. You two know the kitchen and where everything is." Your dad answers for your mom.

"Exactly!" She jumps in with a smile, starting to push him towards the living room. "We're old, Gareth! We need a break!"

"You are not old!" Gareth yells as they go through the arch of the kitchen, "And they are gone..."

“Yup" you respond, not even really shocked about your parents ditching you.

“If we were under fifteen I'd say we might be safe to assume a nother sibling before next year, but-"

"Gareth! Ew!" Cindy interrupts.

"Oh please, you’re pregnant, Cin."

You shake your head at your brother's comeback, “I agree it’s gross, I never wanna think about our parent's sex life." Gareth just shruges.

As the four of you look over your recipe cards and begin to pull out the ingredients you need - or rather, you and Gareth get out everything you need - Cindy sets up some Christmas music to play on the stereo in the kitchen corner, while Eddie helps her pick out the first song. It doesn't take long for Jingle Bell Rock to be echoing through the house.

Gareth hogs the stove, heating up his sugar mixture for the Brittle, bickering back and forth with you because he refuses to let you start melting your semi-sweet chocolate chips. Cindy is prepping the pans for you all to use, linning then each with some parchment paper. Eddie is already mixing up the powder sugar, peanut butter, softened butter, and vanila in a large bowl, aproned up - per your request - so he doesnt get dusts of sugar on his new Metalica shirt.

It takes a while, but soon the goodies are done and you are able to finally take a seat.

You and Eddie take refuge on the couch, him laying across first with you laying over him. Gareth takes your dad’s chair, with Cindy sitting just on the arm.

“Well at least we’ve got it done.” Cindy smiles, brushing some of Gareth’s hair out of his face.

“Yeah, still kinda pissed mom and dad didn’t help. Those bitches.” Gareth glares in the direction of the stairs.

Your parents called it a night about two hours ago, coming in the kitchen to say goodnight to you all before shuffling up the stairs giggling like a couple of high schools. It was a little unnerving if you had to be entirely serious with yourself.

“Oh, let them enjoy themselves. They deserve a break after dealing with you for your entire childhood.” Cindy kisses his forehead, earning herself a scoff from your brother but a few well deserved chuckles from you and Eddie.

“I was not the problem child!” Gareth tries to defend himself, glancing over at you. You can’t even defend yourself before Cindy follows up.

“Yes you were.” She smiles at him, glowing under the soft lamp light. “But hey, at least you have your sibling as your child. We’re gonna have a well behaved kid. Poor (y/n) gets you.” She nuzzles into him a bit.

You have to admit, Cindy and your brother were adorable. They perfectly balanced each other, with his annoying antics and her sweet personality.

“Well,” Cindy stands back up after a few more minutes, “I say it’s bed time! Lord knows your mother will come barging into our rooms in the morning.” She does a quick stretch before taking Gareth’s hand, pulling him up from his spot. “Goodnight you two! Go to bed soon.” Cindy calls out, dragging the (in denial) man-child up the stairs.

“Goodnight!” You and Eddie call back, watching as Gareth mumbles annoyances under his breath to his wife, who just giggles and waves him off.

“They’re an interesting pair.” Eddie smiles to himself, his arms gripping a bit tighter around your waist.

“They are. But they’re cute.” You express, leaning your head back on his chest. Eddie hums.

His eyes roam down to you as you lay there over him. Your fingers drum over his, playing with his rings, the metal cold to the touch. He cant help but feel a warmth rise in him at the sight of you, the little bit of chocolate still on the corners of your mouth from licking the spoon from your kitchen adventure.

You abruptly turn around, sitting up and straddling his lap, your knees now placed on the outer sides of his thighs. He feels his heart pick up, suddenly nervous as you face him, a soft smile on your lips.

“We should probably go too-“ you’re cut off when Eddie’s lips press to yours. You gasp, caught off guard by the suddenness. His hands press to your hips, dragging you closer to him. Eddie kisses you deeply, before kissing the corners of your mouth, then down your jaw and neck. You can’t help the soft moan that leaves you.

“Eddie-“ you try but your voice catches in your throat when you feel the bulge of his pants as he tries to press you to him. Heat floods your face, suddenly embarrassed. You press your hands to his shoulders, softly pushing at him, which he relents immediately.

“Sorry, just… got carried away.” Eddie mumbles, a bit breathless from the kisses he was giving. “I was just watching you in there and I kept wanting to- ugh.” Eddie runs one hand through his long hair, pushing the strands back. “I know we’ve agreed that we would wait until you’re ready… I didn’t mean to push… just-“

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his again, earning a soft groan from him that ignites something in you. He gently places his hands back on your waist, respecting the boundaries you had originally placed. You pull away just a bit, both of you with your cheeks flushed.

“Eddie,” you call out to him, his chocolate brown eyes stare deep into you. “I-“ you hesitate, feeling your legs twitch as his thumb rubs circles into your hip, “I’d like to…” you glance away from him, embarrassed to say more, but Eddie understands your words.

He leans forward, placing soft kisses on your temple and cheek before you feel his hot breath on your ear. “How about we head out for a bit?”

You both slowly make your way upstairs to your room, but he takes every opportunity to give you little kisses that stops you in your tracks and makes you giggle. When you both make it into your room, you watch him grab his jacket and pull you close for one last gentle kiss.

“Stay here.” He mumbles to you, a simple order that you can’t stop yourself from obeying. You realize you’d probably do anything he asked of you, as long as he pairs it with a soft kiss and that goofy youthful grin you love so much.

“Ok” is all you get out before you watch him exit your room once again, jacket barely on his shoulders as he leaves. You sit on your bed, feeling a little antsy as you wait, your nerves not letting you relax. Then you hear his van start up as he leaves the driveway.

You know he’ll come back. He has to. Eddie wouldn’t ditch you, he’s literally staying here with you. He wouldn’t do that… right?

You keep glancing at the clock, time ticking by as you wait for him to return. 10 minutes turns to 20, 20 to 40.

As the old clock on your nightstand is about to hit midnight something hits your window. You nearly jump out of your own skin as your head snaps towards it. Then another.

And another.

Pebbles.

Wait- pebbles?

Getting up from your bed, you go to your window, looking out to see the metal head of your dreams standing down below, the moon light reflects on his eyes as he looks up to see you there. You notice the few tiny rocks still cupped in his hand.

Was he throwing rocks at your window?

You open the glass that separates you from the cold air, instantly getting a chill as you lift it and stick your head out.

“Eddie? Why are you throwing rocks at my window?”

“I wanted to do that right.”

“What-?”

“Lady (y/n) of the house of Emerson, will you do me the honor of giving me your company on this cold night?” Eddie smiles at you, all teeth as if he’s proud of himself.

You can’t help but feel the butterflies flutter through your stomach as you remember the first time he did this, taking you to their concert when you were 16. The context was different then, a boy taking his best friend’s little sister to see their band. But this time you are his damsel, without the distress and needing saving. But his, nonetheless.

“I would be honored to accompany you, Lord Edward of house Munson.” You can’t help but giggle, hoping the blush on your cheeks isn’t noticeable to him. But he notices.

You grab your jacket, slipping out of your window just like you did back then, climbing down the cold sturdy vines that line the outside wall of your house.

He catches you just like he did all those years ago, easing you down to the ground. But this time he gives you a small kiss, cupping your face before taking your hand in his and leading you past the yard of your house. To your surprise you realize he parked down the street, as if trying to not gain suspicion from your family.

He leads you to the passenger side, and you can’t help but giggle as he opens the door for you, bowing down with a dramatic “My lady.”

“Thank you,” you hop into the car, buckling up as he shuts the door for you. He scurries his way around the front of the van and into the driver’s seat of the car.

Although he doesn’t play music, the drive is far from quiet. You two giggle and chat back and forth, and you can’t help but feel comfortable. Eddie has always been someone who has tried to make you feel safe around him, and tonight is no exception.

After about a 20 minute drive, Eddie parks the van. Glancing around you don’t recognize the scenery around you.

“Where are we?” You ask him, looking out the window to see the rows of trees that line your sight.

“Lover’s lake. I… I’ve never actually taken anyone here before, believe it or not. But I know it was a big spot when we were in high school.” You can’t help but feel the warm traces of heat rush up to your cheeks, grazing your skin with the ignites of something unknown.

Lover’s Lake?

“You’ve… never brought anyone here?” You ask, a little shocked at the admission. You know Eddie wasn’t… how do you say… everyone’s cup of tea…? But surely he had his share of girlfriends or at least flings in high school.

“No, I mean… I had… experiences in high school, but never brought anyone here. Mostly it was the bathroom stalls at the Hideout after shows.” Eddie mumbles the last part, blabbering to himself. You know by now he never means to, he just can’t help it when he gets nervous.

“I’ve… never had any experiences.” You respond, giving him a shy smile. He matches your smile before gesturing towards the back of the van.

You hesitate before squeezing through the two seats, shoving yourself into the bed of the van. After an abrupt landing, you glance at the arrangement around you. Pillows, blankets, it’s comfy, warm, a stark contrast to the sharp crisp air outside. When you turn back, Eddie is already next to you, fluffy one of the pillows.

“So… um…” you hesitate, nervous for the eventual activities that will happen. “How do we start…”

“Well, we can just kiss for a bit first, and slowly lead into it.” Eddie scoots a little closer to you, his body heat radiating off of him, covering you in a warmth of anticipation.

He leans closer to you, placing his fingers under your chin, tilting you to face him. Eddie’s lips press to yours in a soft kiss that sends butterflies through you. You lean into it, lifting your hand to his cheek. He pulls away just a bit, leaving you a bit breathless.

“You’re really pretty, I hope you know that.” His voice is deeper than usual, huskier almost. It sends a heat to your core that you’ve never felt before.

Leaning forward again, he kisses you once more, shifting his body so he’s more turned towards you. After a few kisses, it becomes more intense. The once soft kisses turn heated and passionate, your hands cling to his clothes, grabbing at his shirt and jacket.

Your hands glide under the leather fabric, pushing it off his shoulders for him. He doesn’t pull away from you, but he shifts his arms back to allow the coat to fall into the floorboards of the van’s backseat. When the restraints of the added weight are gone, Eddie leans more forward, placing his whole palm on the side of your neck, his fingers long enough to reach into your hairline on your nape, his thumb pushing your jaw upwards.

His kisses feel hot and heavy, almost desperate. He pulls away only to leave a kiss on the corner of your lips before trailing down your jaw and neck, the opposite side of his hand.

You take in a deep breath, suddenly aware of how little oxygen you were getting. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at the metal head as he pulls the coat off your shoulders. Your breath hitches when you feel him suck on your neck, a soft moan leaving your lips as your hands grip at his shirt.

“Ed- Eddie-!” You’re trapped, your throat in between his hand and head. You don’t mind it, the feeling of his tongue swiping across your warm skin; the way his free hand grips at your thigh doesn’t go unnoticed either.

After a moment, Eddie pulls back, looking at the masterpiece he has left on your neck, the hickeys slowly turning more red. He leaves a soft kiss on one of the more purple ones, a ping of guilt tugging at him as he does so.

He knows it doesn’t hurt, if anything, he hopes you enjoyed it being left there as much as he did.

Eddie pulls back from you, taking the hem of his shirt in his hands before slipping the cotton fabric over his head. You’ve seen him shirtless a few times by now, mostly before bed or when he gets out of the shower in the mornings after he’s stayed over. But this is different. It feels more intimate.

“Oh…” the sound leaves you before you can realize. You see the little grin that tugs at his lips.

“Oh?” Eddie sits back into some of the pillows, leaning his head against the wall of the van. “Like what you see, Sweetheart?”

You don’t know what came over you. A simple surge of confidence, maybe?

You crawl over to him, climbing into his lap. You watch those warm brown eyes widen a bit, taken aback by your sudden forwardness. But he’s eating it up nonetheless. He’s got you right where he wants you and he intends to make this night perfect for you.

“I love what I see,” you bat your eyelashes at him as your hands move up to the top button of your flannel, unbuttoning it slowly as you make eye contact with Eddie.

“Do you like what you see?” You ask as you do a few more buttons, revealing a light pink lacy bra. Eddie’s eyes dart to it, desperate to see what’s underneath but he’s going to wait until you’re ready.

“Love,” he says, the word slow, like it has more meaning than it should. “But I think you’d look good in nothing at all.”

Together, you unbutton your shirt until it’s open, only your bra on display as Eddie pushes it off your shoulders and it falls behind you.

Eddie gently lies you down on the bed of the van and slowly unhooks your bra as he does so, tossing it to the side as a dramatic leaves his mouth.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he says as he goes to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down slowly but with force. Once they’re off, he spreads your legs wide, noticing that there’s a wet patch on your underwear and feels himself getting even more hard as he sees how wet he’s gotten you.

He lowers his head down to your cunt and your eyebrows furrow as you try to figure out what he’s doing. He grabs onto the waistband of your panties with his teeth and pulls down slowly, and once they’re off, he pockets them and he spreads your legs even wider, seeing that you’re so wet that your slick has run down your legs.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask, leaning up to see exactly where he’s going.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, his brown eyes going all soft.

“Of course I do,” you nod and he grins wide.

“Then lie back and enjoy the ride, princess,” he winks then moves his face towards one of your thighs, placing his tongue on it and swiping up, wanting to get every last bit of your slick.

He then moves on to the other one, quicker this time as he’s eager to get on with the main event. He places your legs on his shoulders then dives in shamelessly, the only thing on his mind being your pussy and how delicious he knows it is.

His tongue flattens against your slit and he moves it up and down as your hands move to his hair, a sound you’ve never made before escaping your mouth.

It’s a mixture between a moan and a whine and Eddie continues as he likes what he’s hearing. He’s not being precise, the whole thing sloppy as he wants to taste every inch of your cunt, wanting every part of it underneath his tongue.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’s done this as he’s forgotten just how much he enjoys doing it. With you, it’s different. He’s never done anything like this with a virgin, and goddamn is he going to make it memorable for the both of you.

“E-Eddie, oh my god,” you moan loudly, giving Eddie’s hair a yank as you do. This is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before and now you’re addicted, wondering just how long you can last.

He pushes his tongue inside you and you tense, the sensation is so foreign, but you like it, love it even as he pushes his tongue inside and out of you swirling it around.

His tongue hits just the right spot and you’re moaning again, this time, your back arching as you do, grabbing onto his hair for dear life.

Your thighs press against the sides of his head as you reach your orgasm, the prettiest moans Eddie’s ever heard falling from your lips. Just when you think it’s over, Eddie pushes your legs back open, going in for seconds, wanting another taste of you as his tongue moves faster, trying to get you to that high again.

He removes his tongue and their replaced with his fingers, pumping them a little slower as his mouth goes for your clit, his tongue doing most of the work as he licks and sucks, taking his time with it.

“Eddie, fuck,” you whine and he goes in with his teeth, biting down with just enough pressure to get you to make that pretty sound again. “Yeah, just like that,” you tell him and he does it again, harder this time as his fingers move just a little faster, just enough to overstimulate you.

Another orgasm courses through you, but Eddie’s not quite finished. He just needs one more taste and he’ll be good. He swirls his tongue around your clit one more them then removes his fingers, leaning up to make eye contact with you as he puts his fingers into his mouth, giving them a suck before removing them with a loud pop.

Once you’ve come down, Eddie leans over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips then leans back as you whine for more.

“Sorry, did you need something?” He asks, his tone nothing but teasing. “I just gave you your first and second orgasm and now you’re whining for kisses? I really have created a monster.”

“Eddie, please,” you beg with a roll of your eyes.

“Let’s not get greedy now, baby. Or else I might have to punish you.”

“Punish me, how?” You ask, genuinely curious, wanting to know what he’s referring to, wondering if he’ll give an example.

“I’ll show you next time,” he says as he goes to unbutton his own pants and as soon as they’re off, you see the outline of his cock through his underwear. He takes them off slowly and you’re unsure what to make of it. Sure, you had maybe seen one in a movie or two, but never in real life and never this close.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, removing a condom from it and he tosses his wallet behind him, the whole thing completely abandoned for the beautiful woman in front of him.

He removes his underwear and removes the condom from the packet before rolling it on. He then takes no time to spread your legs again, slowly inserting himself, little by little so you can get used to the feeling. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, especially not for your first time.

He watches you wince as he moves inside, understanding that this is something that you’ve never done and he’ll go as slow as he needs to. As long as you’re comfortable, he’s happy.

“Is this okay?” He asks, looking down at you, then where you’re connected, seeing that he’s only put so little of himself inside.

“It’s good,” you nod. “It’s good. You can do a little more.”

He does as you say then begins to pump, the slowest and most gentle he’s ever done, watching your face the whole time to make sure that you’re okay. You’re moaning already so he takes that as a good sign.

He picks up the pace ever so slightly and you’re eating it up, moaning and whining as you grab onto his back, burying your face into his neck because you can’t handle him looking at you so intently anymore.

“You’re doing so good, angel,” he says his thrusts pick up just a little more. “Make some more of those pretty sounds for me, hm?” He asks as his arms moved underneath you, pulling your chest to his. He just wants to hold you while you share this intimate moment.

He’s enjoying it, but a part of him wants to fuck you until you can’t walk the next morning. He knows you can take it all and he wants to try and see how much will fit as he fucks you so hard that the van will shake.

But he can’t. He won’t, because this is your first time and he wants to make it special for you. He didn’t get that for his so it’s even more important that makes this something you remember fondly for the rest of your life.

He picks up the pace just a little more and he can tell you’re almost there, just one more push and-

“I love you,” is what comes out of your mouth and everything freezes. You both pause, unsure what the next move is and now you’re panicking that you’ve done something wrong as he stares down at you, his mouth wide open in shock.

Without a word, he’s pounding into you with so much force that you feel your brain turn to mush. You’re goo in his arms and all you can do is clench around him, wondering where this Eddie has been the entire night.

You’d never tell him, but this was what you had been wanting from the very beginning. It was sweet that he was trying to be accommodating, but you know Eddie well enough that he’s never been the kind of guy to “make love”. The kind that’s sweet and gentle, filled with murmurs of sweet nothings and soft touches.

“Fuck, yes, just like that,” you say again and Eddie’s going even harder now, making your back arch.

Without a warning, Eddie’s hand wraps around your neck squeezing tightly and you can slowly feel yourself being unable to breathe. He’s unsure at first if you like it, but feeling your cunt clench around his cock, he’s sure.

He holds you there, wishing so badly he had a camera to capture this moment, something just for him to look at when he needed a little encouragement.

Just when he thinks you’re going to pass out, he lets up, his hand favoring your thigh as he knows he can squeeze it as much as he wants and he not so secretly, desperately wants to leaves marks all over your body. And he intends to.

His fingers dig into your thigh as he sees you reaching another high, spreading your legs even wider so he can get all of himself in for one last thrust. He watches you as the last few inches are in, your bodies now fully connected, and now he just wants to see how long you can hold out as you’re riding your orgasm.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” you moan as your nails scratch down his back, already feeling fucked out, but you can’t give up now, not when it’s gotten so good.

You’re almost drunk when Eddie pulls out and lets you come down from your orgasm as his lips press to your collarbone, nothing but gentle kisses all along it, light nibbles before he’s leaving straight up hickeys wherever he can, wanting to mark up your body so you know exactly who it belongs to. Even though he’s pretty sure you already know.

Once he’s done, he lies back on the floor of the van, pulling you with him as he covers the two of you up with a random blanket he had lying back there.

his hands run through your hair as he hums a song you’re not familiar with, the only thing on your mind now is that you told him that you loved him, during sex. You feel so embarrassed that you don’t think you can look him in the eye again. Especially not after he didn’t say it back.

“You-“ you try to say, but cut yourself off. “You never responded.”

“To what?” He asks, his voice soft as he tries his best to look down at you, his hand still combing through your hair.

“To me telling you that you love me.” You sit up, now looking at him, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “Oh god, you don’t love me do you? Just say it, I can handle it.” But as you’re speaking, you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to see how he’s looking at you.

“Hey,” he says softly, as if he’s speaking to a spooked animal. “Hey,” this time a little more rough as he pulls your hand away from your face. “I love you,” he says, looking you dead in the eyes as he presses a kiss to your wrist. “I love you,” he repeats, going for your other wrist.

He then takes your face in his hands and presses his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, pouring every single bit of love for you he has into it.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your lips before pulling you to his chest, holding you there so you can hear his heart, the thing that only beats for you.

The sun is already up when you get back to your house, both you and Eddie gliggle amongst yourselves as you enter the front door. Eddie presses a kiss to your kiss bitten lips, getting a little handsy as they slide up your shirt. Just as he goes to unhook your bra once again, a lamp flicks on and the two of you jump away from each other, Eddie accidentally biting your bottom lip in the process. Eddie's cheeks go pink and you press your fingers to your bottom lip as you turn to see your mother sitting in her favorite chair, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

She's dressed in her robe, her legs crossed with a book in her lap. It's not uncommon for her to be up early in the morning, but something is off about this time. It's almost as if she was waiting up for you. And the way she crosses her arms over her chest, it's obvious that she was. You don't know why you're embarrassed now at the state of both of you and Eddie. Your clothes are all rumpled and Eddie's hair is an absolute mess, lipstick smeared across his neck, accompanied by a very prominent hickey.

"What were you two doing out all night?" She asks and her tone is nothing but teasing. The three of you know exactly where you were and what you were up to and it almost seems like she's trying to embarrass you in front of Eddie.

"We were out." You're being vague because this isn't exactly something you want to talk to your mother about, especially not in front of your boyfriend who already looks embarrassed even though he'd never admit that he was. You just wish she'd drop it and let you go upstairs.

"You don't have to hide what the two of you were up to. You're adults now and you shouldn't feel like you need to sneak around me. I would have just been nice to know where you were." You're fully expecting a lecture about letting her know when you leave the house, but she suprises you when she says, "Now go get into your pajamas before the others come down," she nods towards the direction of the stairs. “We're doing presents soon and our special guest will be here any minute."

You and Eddie make a beeline for the stairs and head to your shared room. Everything is silent between you as Eddie closes the door, the two of you finally alone again. You're both getting into your matching pajamas that your mother had bought for everyone and you can't help but smile at him as he's completely oblivious to you staring at him.

You never thought you'd be here with him like this. You fully expected to spend the rest of your life dreading any and all holidays you had to spend with the Munsons' because then you'd have to see Eddie's husband or wife and be nothing but jealous the whole time. You honestly never thought that your feelings for him would be reciprocated. But here you are now, more in love than ever and the two of you were very much looking forward to the future.

You head twards the door but Eddie stops you, resting his hand on your shoulder as he gently turns you around to face him. You look up into those honey brown eyes and they're nothing but soft as he hands you a black velvet box with his free hand.

"Merry Christmas, sweetheart," he says as he squeezes your shoulder and you sit on the bed to open the box.

He's smiling now, so excited for you to see what's inside. He's honestly glad you're not looking at him because he’s grinning like an idiot as he watches you open the box, a gasp escaping your mouth as you do so. You remove the necklace from the box, your initals sitting pretty together on the chain as you hold it up to the light.

"Eddie," you say. "It's beautiful. I love it. Help me put it on?" You hand it to him and move your hair out of the way. Eddie lowers the chain onto your neck and attatches the end to the clasp before pressing a kiss to your neck. You let your hair down then turn to Eddie to show him what it looks like on.

"What do you think?" You ask and just by looking at him, that soft, loving look in his eyes, you already know what he's going to know what he's going to say.

"You look beautiful, baby," he gestures for you to come closer. You lean in and your lips find each other, a brief kiss before you pull away, reaching into your bag for your gift for Eddie. The two of you seem to have thought alike because you're handing him a velvet ring box.

Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as he opens up the box, that stupid smirk on his lips as he takes the ring out of the box. It looks like a wedding band and it has the date of his concert where you had ran into him again engraved on the inside. His silence is making you nervous and now you're beginning to second guess yourself.

Eddie's not silent because he doesn't like your gift, he's silent because this is easily the best gift he's ever recieved. All of his past relationships have been nothing but shit and he thinks you're it for him. It warms his heart knowing that you feel the same.

"Is this a promise ring?" He asks as he puts the ring on the correct finger. He already knows the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. You could propose to him right now and he'd say yes. That's how far gone he is for you. He loves you with everything that he is and wants to do exactly that until he takes his last breath.

"Yes," you nod. "I love you, Eddie, and I know we're not ready to take that step yet, so this is just a placeholder. So all of those women you meet on tour know that you're mine."

"You're always jealous, aren't you?" He laughs. "I'm yours and will continue to be yours as long as you'll have me."

With that, Eddie kisses you one more time then leads you down the stairs where everyone else is already gathered with the added company of Wayne who just so happened to be the special guest your mother had invited. His eyes lock on yours and he stands from the couch where he was sitting next with Gareth and Cindy. He pulls you into a tight hug, giving your back a few pats before pulling away to ruffle Eddie's hair.

Wayne has been not so secretly rooting for the two ever since the two of you crossed paths again. You are nothing but a great addition to their family and Wayne is always quick to tell you so, always thanking you for taking care of his boy. Seeing the way his nephew's face lights up when he talks to or about you, he can't help but feel his heart swell as that's what he's always wanted for him.

Ever since Gareth and Eddie became friends, Eddie was always welcome into the Emerson household and that invitaion was extended to Wayne as well. You fondly remember having dinner with the two of them as guests, everyone joking and laughing at the dining room table. You'd look at the two of them as they sat side by side, deciding that it was no wonder how Eddie was such a sweet guy when you looked at who raised him.

"Alright," your mother claps her hands together to get everyone's attention. "Now that we're all here, why don't we-" her words were cut off by Cindy letting out a groan and as soon as she stood up from the couch, all you see was her leaving a trail of water behind her as Gareth rushes her to the door.

You all hurry out the door to your separate cars to head to the hospital where your niece is about to be born. Thinking about your brother being a dad now fills you with joy, epsspecially with how much he's grown up over the years. There's still a bit of the Gareth you grew up with in there, but for the most part, he behaves differently than he previously had.

You've all grown up, you, Eddie, and Gareth, and you did it together. Well, more like Eddie and Gareth grew up together while you tried to insert yourself into their little club because of your giant crush on Eddie. But now you're apart of it, you, Eddie, Gareth, Cindy, and now the little one who was about to be born.

Thinking about your niece got you thinking about what it would be like to have a baby with Eddie. Maybe one day that dream will be a reality, but until then, you’re going to take this relationship one step at a time. You want to enjoy every second with him.

Tag list!

@cagethemunson

@spikeybatt

@cherrycolas-things

@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e

@ali-r3n

@thepurplelovewitch

#stranger things #x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #christmas special #holiday special #part 2 #brother’s best friend #rockstar! eddie munson #rockstar! eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

i forgot that you existed * sv5

you didn't expect to run into your ex ever again, yet here you are and you find yourself pretending like you'd never met him before.

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!reader

trope: fake amnesia

wc: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (falling in reverse)

you hide behind a display in the middle of the supermarket, stacked boxes keeping you somewhat hidden from the man you’ve stalked the moment you got out of your car in the parking lot. you keep your head down to avoid getting recognised back.

an uncanny lookalike of the man you swore was the love of your life stepped out of the car parked next to yours and it’s like you’ve been in a trance ever since. you can’t tear your eyes away from the man now sauntering within the supermarket with a basket hanging from his arms loosely.

because you know that you packed everything up and moved halfway across the world when you thought you’d go crazy from the reality that he’d left you at the altar — on your wedding day.

it’s been 5 years since he watched you walk down the aisles of a church with your shared friends and families covered in a white dress that took you 2 months to choose. an entire lifetime ago since you had taken one last step up to the altar before he had run in the direction you came from and never be seen again.

in the back of your mind, you remember the way it felt like life had lost all its meaning after that day. life started to grey itself out as the living soul was sucked out of your body.

all for him to relay a message through his parents, thoroughly embarrassed to tell you that all the man could muster up was a pathetic and humiliating apology: ‘i’m sorry’.

he’s sorry? that’s all he could say to you after spending — wasting — 6 years of your life with him, planning your future and ending it abruptly on the day you were supposed to vow that you’d spend the rest of your lives together.

you’d daydreamed several times about the things you would say to him if you’d ever chanced upon running into him again. it went several different ways: sometimes you thought about throwing punches for making you question everything or falling to your knees in tears asking him how and why he could do this to you, and sometimes the scenario goes in a way that he’s the one begging you for an apology at your feet and saying that he regrets it.

the days seemed to pass by slowly and painfully after he’d left you. but you just remembered waking up one morning and hating the way your reflection stared at you in the mirror.

you were a mess.

so you packed your things and left everything behind — you moved halfway across the world and started anew. you haven’t regretted that decision.

and what are the chances that you’d run into sebastian in an obscure supermarket on the other side of the globe half a decade later? you had left your hometown for this very possibility only for it to happen much later in life at a time you would never have expected.

now that you’re stalking him (unstealthily), everything you’d sworn that you would say to him is thrown out of the window.

you follow him into an aisle and linger at the edge of the aisle, feigning interest in the baking goods displayed neatly on the shelves. you pick up an item and drop your head to look at it, though your eyes can’t help but trail up to the man standing on the other end of the aisle.

it really is him. no matter how much reasoning you do with yourself, there’s no denying that sebastian vettel is standing in the very same property as you for the first time since the unfortunate demise of your relationship.

you seriously consider walking up to him and clocking him in the face then bolting away. because you know — used to — him and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw back a punch.

sebastian turns his head in your direction abruptly, making you whirl back around to the shelf in front of you. and then it happens.

you hear your name being called out by a voice you’d longed to hear after all these years.

you start to panic. you consider all of the possible options to escape the situation. maybe you still have time to start running? it’s just a supermarket; there’s several others everywhere else. you can just start doing your grocery shopping elsewhere.

ah, but this is the biggest supermarket closest to you and it’s got everything you need.

but as sebastian slowly approaches you, you find your mouth speaking faster than your head could process. “do i know you?”

do i know you? where the hell did that come from?

sebastian stops a a distance from you, jaw hung as he tilts his head at your words. “what?”

you swallow the formed lump in your throat as you look at him, wide eyed and hands balled into fists by your side. perhaps you should just pretend that he’s got the wrong person.

yet it seems that your mouth will continue to run without your brain. “yeah, i got into an accident a couple of years ago. it affected my memory.” you smile slightly. “did i know you?”

you watch as he tries to find a response to what you’ve just said. and he’s better than you, you think, because he still managed to find something to say. “accident? i’m so sorry.” you wave off his concerns with a hand in the air and a shake of your head. “we, uh,” he sucks in a breath, “used to be really good friends.”

good friends. men really are liars.

“oh, what a shame,” you say with a grimace, as if you mean it. as if you don’t actually remember the way he’d made you feel small. “how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face. i haven’t seen you in any photo albums.”

you start to think that your mouth has a mind of its own. you swear that you’ve seen a movie with this exact plot: feigning memory loss to avoid the real consequences of running into someone from your past life. or it could just be a result of all your panic.

because he is in every single photo album you’d brought along with you. there’s holes in those albums, photos with sebastian now sitting in a box in the store room of your little apartment, in the deepest corner where it cannot be acquired without hardwork.

you lie again with a soft laugh. “when i was told my memory was completely wiped from my accident, i took off in an attempt to start again. but how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face again.”

sebastian stands there in silence for a moment. “i’d really love to catch up some time,” sebastian offers with a small smile. “find out about this new life you have and everything.”

you feel an insurmountable rage fill your chest. your chest feels heavy and your head starts to pound.

you should really just start running back to your car now.

“that would be a great idea!” what the hell. that’s literally not what you had meant to say. you were considering laying it on him and screaming at him in the middle of the supermarket. it’s just so unfair that he stands here acting like he hadn’t driven you to the brink of insanity in your 20s.

“fantastic!” sebastian grins fishing for his phone in the pocket of his jacket. “let me get your number so we can find a day we’re both free? i have to head back to finish unpacking my boxes — i just relocated here for work recently.”

“what are the chances,” you joke through gritted teeth, typing your number into the contact sheet he’d pulled up for you. you should just run now with his phone and throw it into the lake nearby. “well, it’s nice running into you. i’ll hopefully see you soon!” you perk up and turn around. “sorry, i didn’t catch your name earlier.”

he grins, “it’s sebastian.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @localwhoore @namgification

series taglist: @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @lozzamez3 @haikyuu-carat @bicchaan @cinnamongirlontv

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke fir

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theblessedcap · 8 months ago

Text

A Weekend to Remember 💕

Summary: Terry wants to give his girlfriend Siya (Sigh-ya) a peaceful weekend away at his place to help her loosen up after a rough week. 🩵

Warnings: Some smut 💋 and 420 friendly 🍃

This is my first fanfic y’all so take it easy on your girl. It’s been a while! lol. Enjoy!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Terry POV

Friday Night 🌙

My girl Siya, who I’ve been seeing for about five months now, has been expressing her frustration with work all week. I’m not quite sure what her exact job title is but I know she works with badass kids and intense parents everyday in the school system. I’ve always admired her patience with people on a daily. I told her I do labor and engineering work for a reason cause I’d catch a case. Nonetheless, I know she needs an outlet and frankly, just a good time so she can let her hair down a bit. I can admit I’ve been slightly negligent to my lady’s feelings recently due to my own work being a shit storm with high volumes of orders and requests needing to be completed. A couple nights in a row I’ve been falling asleep on her mid conversation from pure exhaustion. I know that stings her a bit because we don’t live together and she really treasures our nightly FaceTime calls. She lives about 35 mins away from me on the other side of the county so anytime I get to see her face I try to make it last. I know she knows I still love her and I’m here for her like always but I’m the type of man to show it. Especially when I know I’ve been slacking a bit.

On the way home from work today, on a high from finally making it to Friday, I text Siya to let her know my plans.

T: Hey babe, hope your work day ended on a high note today. I want you to pack a bag to stay over my place for the weekend. I wanna show you how much I’ve missed you all week.. I’ll be there to get you around 6. I love you ❤️

S: Oooo you got plans plans huh? 😏 lol ok baby, I’ll be ready when you get here. Just let me know when you’re on the way 😘

I smile down at my phone at her response. She always finds a way to make me laugh. That’s why this weekend I want her to feel like she’s fully taken care of. My girl is the kind of woman who loves detail but loves simplicity even more. She loves good vibes and ambience.. she loves to be able to take in all the small joys around her and revel in them while spreading that same feeling to the people around her. It made me think about what I wanted to plan for us this weekend. I want to take Siya’s mind off of all her stress and worries and I have to be quick because I only have about 2 hours until I pick Siya up…

Siya POV

That text from Terry made my day. I haven’t stopped smiling since I got it just as I was about to sprint to my car after calling it a day at work. Don’t get me wrong, I love aspects of my job but the mental rigor of trying to put out fires everyday is A LOT. I was just starting to get annoyed with Terry actually, he’s been seeming a bit distant and uninterested but those thoughts faded away as soon as I read that text. If there’s one thing I know about my man its that he’s thoughtful when it counts and loves to prove it.

Getting home to my quiet condo, I drop all my stuff in my office room then head straight to my bathroom to shower off all the angst of the day. Blasting some Summer Walker and Kehlani while the hot water slowly soothes my body into relaxation. I make sure to shave and moisturize something serious not yet knowing exactly what Terry has planned. I just have a feeling it’s going to make me fall in love with him even more.

After my shower, I decided to fix something small to eat to hold me over and then pack my bag for a stay at my man’s.

*phone vibrates*

T: I’m heading to you now babygirl 🩵

S: Ok be safe ❤️ see you soon daddy 💋

I don’t know what it is but Terry still makes me giddy and nervous. I can’t stop checking my hair and light makeup in the mirror just to make sure nothing is out of place. If he knew I was taking what I looked like so serious, he would reprimand me saying you look beautiful regardless, don’t trip but hey, I’m just a girl with nerves!

Dressed in a causal three piece cozy fit, perfect for this fall weather and brisk evenings, I wait for Tory to arrive while chilling on my living room couch. Just as I start to feel a little antsy my phone vibrates again.

T: Come open your door for me beautiful

Without texting back, I hop out of my seat and speed walk to the door with a smile. I open the door to find my tall, muscular, ocean eyed teddy bear of a boyfriend dressed in a hoodie and joggers to match.

“There she is” he says before softly pulling me into his arms and lifting me into a tight hug. He smells so good..

“Hey baby, I missed you so much” I say before planting a kiss on his soft, plump lips.

“I’ve missed you too baby girl. More than you know. Come on, let me get your bag for you” He says slightly brushing past me into the living room to grab my pink duffle bag. “You ready, mama?”

Terry POV

It feels so good having Siya next to me again. It’s only been about a week and a half since I’ve last seen her in person but right now let me know that’s too long without her. Her soft, luscious, radiant skin. Her fragrance that always smells like something sweet that makes me hungry for her. Head full of curls and that amazing smile that still makes my heart skip a beat. I’m sprung, no doubt. I can’t keep my hands off her as I hit the highway heading back to my place. My free hand found its way in between the heat of her thighs and rested there for comfort as I gripped the steering wheel. Snoh Alegra playing from my truck speakers and our heads bobbing to the smooth tunes. I look over at Siya softly singing the words and I crack a smile involuntarily. Call me corny but I made a playlist just for this ride back so I knew she’d be feeling it.

“You know this is my song” She says with a playful smirk while dancing in her seat.

“Yeah I know love”

Siya went back to her karaoke as i focused on not missing a turn right up ahead of us. As soon as I made the turn off our usual route, Siya stops her concert and looks at me with curious eyes.

“Where we going?” She asks

“Just a little detour babe, don’t worry” I reassure her grabbing onto her hand to hold.

I could tell my words put her at ease. I watch her lean back in her seat to take in the beautiful sunset outside our car windows. The sky barely lit but just above the horizon it’s painted a firey bright orange with clouds leaving small traces of purple and blue. Approaching our destination, I see Siya sit up, peeking out of the windows to take in the view before us. A walking park adorned with vast land scattered with trees and a beautiful lake front that provided a perfect view to watch the remainder of the sunset. The area is empty and barely any cars drive past at this time of day. Perfect for a chill ass smoke session to get my girl right for this relaxing weekend I got planned for her.

Siya POV

Terry is always up to something I tell ya. I’ve always appreciated the effort and thought he puts into the things he does for me. No matter how little or large. Terry knows I’m a sentimental nostalgic who loves taking in sunsets and sunrises. I mean, I couldn’t even count the amount of moon photos I have in my camera roll too. He also knows I don’t take the time to enjoy these things as much as I’d like to. To just be present.. with a beautiful view.

“Let’s sit at these benches over here” Terry said taking my hand and leading me to our seats near the lake.

“This is beautiful Terry. How do you know about this place?”

“Me and a homeboy of mine use to come here and go fishing sometimes. We even came out here just to chill. Get our minds right” Terry reaches into this hoodie pocket, “So, with my beautiful lady having the hard week she did.. I figured we’d start this weekend with some reallll relaxation” he declares pulling out a thick cigar blunt with a playful, big cheesy smile.

Terry and I have smoked together before but it’s been quite a while. Shortly after we started dating we both decided to take a tolerance break and focus on work and being a bit healthier. Not to say we didn’t break our pact from time to time but it has definitely been a couple months since I faced a fat blunt.

“When did you start smoking again?” I ask genuinely curious.

“Right now. I figured since work has been kicking both of our asses, we deserve this. You deserve this,” He says lighting the blunt and passing it to me. Instantly the thick weed smoke and scent hit my nose and brought back all those fond memories of getting high and letting my worries roll off of me like water.

I take a deep breath and allow the smoke to hit my chest. I hold it for a few seconds before a deep harsh cough escapes my throat.

“Take it easy, babe” Terry said laughing while patting my back.

“Oh whatever! It’s been a while” I snap back at him out of a little embarrassment of my fragile lungs. I take another puff and force myself to keep in the smoke long enough to feel the after effects.

“You good mama?” Terry asks me as I pass him back the blunt.

“Yeah I’m good. This shit is hitting me nice..” I say leaning back into the bench, letting my body and mind unwind. I start to listen to the gentle wind of the night breezing past my ears, the lake in front of me rippling from the wind. It’s so peaceful. I feel Terry’s arm cradle my shoulders from be side, providing extra warm from the cool breeze. We continued to pass back and forth until our blunt became a roach. The lowering sun completely gone but now the fluorescent moonlight took its place. It gave us ample light reflecting from the shimmering lake. I could feel every bit of my body soften and loosen up. My head lay back to rest on Terry’s buff arm still wrapped around me. We were both pretty quiet enjoying our high and the tranquility around us. I look over to Terry to make sure he’s okay only to meet his incredible grey eyes, low and hazy from the marijuana, already locked on me.

“How you feeling?” He asks deep in tone, his gaze still stuck on me.

“Good. I feel great actually”

“Good. I’m glad to hear, babe. Come here…” Terry whispers before grabbing me around my waist and pulling me into his lap. Never taking his eyes off me. I was starting to really get lost in them. All I could picture was the last time we fucked, soaking my satin panties as I clinch my thighs on Terry’s lap. My eyes gaze down to his juicy pink lips that just seem to be calling my name. Without hesitation, i pull Terry in for a passionate kiss. Lips smacking and soft biting making us both groan into each other’s mouths. I could feel Terry’s thick bulge grow stiffer below me as he shifts my booty on his lap to help adjust himself. He let out a soft moan before placing lewd, wet kisses all over my neck.

“Terry you know that makes me weak” I moan out as he hits all my spots causing me to quiver.

Ignoring my plea, gripping onto my thighs, he continues to place warm kisses on my neck and slowly down my chest. Suddenly he stops and looks up at me. The moonlight beaming out of his now dark clouded eyes. He sits up, gently moving me off his lap and back on the bench before standing up and starting to take off his hoodie. I bite my lip watching him undress, revealing a white tee hugging his defined abs and massive arms. I quietly stare up at him from my seat, heat rising within me from anticipation, wondering what’s next to come. Also forgetting that we’re technically in public.

I’m high as shit.

“Lay back on my hoodie babygirl” Terry says softly while stretching his hoodie out on the bench space beside me. I do as he ask and lay my heated back to the wood bench to rest. Terry, now sitting by my feet and smirking down at me, slowly turns to me with his eyes still intensely on me, lifts my legs and places them firmly over his shoulders. Now I get the hint..

“Take these off” he whispers before licking his lips and pulling at my pants with authority.

I lift my lower body to assist him in slipping my pants and panties off in one quick swipe. The cool air hit my bare legs and made me clinch my legs shut.

“Open up for me, babe” Terry commands sliding his large body back on the bench and lowering his head right above my wet, aching pussy. “I got the munchies.. but all I wanna snack on is you”

With a sloppy, wet kiss to my throbbing clit, Terry began to devour my pussy like his last meal. I couldn’t help but to moan loudly as he slurps and licks me with purpose. One thick swipe of his tongue after another. As he playful darts his tongue in and out of my pussy and tenderly rubs my pulsing clit, I stare up at the stars above. Thanking God and the universe that I’ve found this man.

“Ahhhh Terry.. this feels so fucking good babyyy” I cry out reaching for the bench arm rest behind my head for leverage.

“Mmm.. you taste so damn good mama.. I could eat you all night..” he spoke with all his concentration still on my leaking pussy. Suddenly feeling two thick fingers slowly sliding into me, I arch my back out of pure ecstasy.

“Fuuuuck” I cry out letting Terry quicken his pace. Beginning to feel an amazing but unfamiliar pressure build within me.

“Pussy clenching up baby, you about to cum?”

“Oh my god… Terry!” I shout unable to explain what I was feeling. Silence falls as nothing but the sound of Terry’s fingers slipping in and out of me and his slurping and smacking fill the air. My eyes close shut and I swear even with them closed, I can still see stars. Suddenly, a loud gush erupts from my slippery center.

“God damn..” Terry groans staring at my pussy forming a puddle below him with a look of pride and accomplishment.

“Did you just make me squirt?!” I asks out of pure shock. Did I really just squirt on my boyfriend on a public bench?

“Hell yeah I did. You got me and my hoodie soaked baby girl” he says with a chuckle and a menacing smirk.

“Oh my god” I say laughing to myself, covering my face as Terry lifts me up to hold me in his arms, face to face.

“Aww none of that now. Shit, that was fucking amazing. I didn’t know you could squirt like that, mama. I find it sexy.. lets me know I’m doing all the right things.. maybe I should get you high and eat you out more often” he suggest with that enticing smile of his.

“Yeah maybe” I respond with a smile and gaining a little sense of confidence back. The sound of loud car exhaust approaching made us both grab for our clothes and get dressed. Terry wasn’t lying when he said I soaked his hoodie. Even with it being black I could tell I left the majority of it damp and knew he’d be cold in this frigid wind as we walk back to his truck.

“I’m sorry again about that Babe” I say with my arms crossed in front of me to shield my exposed skin from the breeze.

“You don’t hear me complaining do you? Stop worrying, love. So what I’m drenched? I love that shit. All that matters to me right now is that you feel good.. you gushing all on me like that just shows me you was feeling more than good though.. right baby?” He asks slowly stepping closer to me, forcing my back against the truck door, invading my space in a way that makes my knees almost buckle. Him and these goddamn eyes!!

“Oh I’m more than good..” I almost whisper looking deep into his glistening orbs, feeling like I’m under a trance.

“That’s what I like to hear. Gimme kiss..” Terry says before pulling me into him by the waist and giving me two sweet, wet kisses, “come on, beautiful. Let’s get back on the road. We still got the night ahead of us.”

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK and sorry for any typos 🙈🩷 Depending on feedback I’ll write the rest of the weekend with Tory and Siya 🥰 I have a feeling this is gonna get cute and nasty lmao appreciate y’all! -Kye ✌🏽

#terry richmond smut #aaron pierre #black female writers #black female reader #terry richmond

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charliemwrites · 2 years ago

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Part 7 of Charmed Slasher Simon

CW for gore and violence. No smut (yet) this part was already long enough so I’m saving it for part 8

The carpets are drenched in blood, squish beneath Simon’s boots as he toes a lifeless arm out of the way. Headcount: 5 dead, 6 to go. And you for last.

You, wide eyed and paralyzed as you recognized the skull mask from nearly a year ago. Your manager had to drag you off. Simon’s going to cut his fingers off one by one for that.

Your coworkers are such easy prey. Hapless in the dark with a snowstorm raging outside. Huddling first for warmth and now from fear. You’re trying to gather everyone up; strength in numbers. Not a bad idea. But Simon’s faster and quieter and he’s been picking them off one by one.

The ones you’ve always liked he gives a quick death. A hot spill of blood before they even realize they’re dead. The others though - ones that have reported you to HR, badmouthed you to the boss, so much as stolen a pen. Those he’s been taking special care with, dooming them to long, slow deaths that you always stumble upon too late to do much more than cry and hold their hands.

Oh you’re so pretty like this. It really is the best of you. Too kind for your own good, all that altruism useless against a tidal wave of violence. He loves to watch you be so good.

It’s three more before he finds you again - separated from that manager. All on your own. Simon will have his guts for that as well, since he’s not using them.

He lunges at you, just slow enough that you can duck away as his knife thunks against the wall. Your eyes are so big; he can see the reflection of the mask in them.

You scramble away without looking back like the smart girl you are and Simon grins to himself as he takes his time following. There’s a yelp and then a thump, your quiet curse. Simon rounds the corner but you’re long gone - the smeared blood from you slipping though…

His cock twitches. You, covered in the blood of his victims, your own coworkers…

He rips the mask off and tucks the knife away as he hears voices up ahead. His name in a harsh whisper. He puts on the same terrified look he’s seen a million times, crouches down as he wobbles around the corner.

“Riley!”

You choke off a sob as you stumble to him, hands reaching. He catches you fast, eyes flicking over your shoulder to find Brandon trembling behind the couch.

“Where have you been?!” you murmur, eyes flicking over his face, his body. “oh, god you’re covered in blood!”

“‘S not mine, luv.”

You sniffle, shaking hands gripping at his forearms. “I-it’s awful. I don’t know why this is happening again.”

“It’ll be alright, I’ll keep you safe from him.”

You give him a half-hearted smile. Simon mirrors it, putting on his best survivor face.

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” Brandon asks.

Simon levels him a flat look. “Caught a glimpse of him gutting your manager. Big fucking bloke.”

You whimper; he’s all too happy to bundle you in his arms, stain you in crimson. From the other side of the couch, Brandon is staring. Hard.

“Where have you been?”

“Hiding. Like you.”

You pull away, frown at Brandon in confusion.

“Where?” Brandon persists.

Simon narrows his eyes in warning but the wormfood doesn’t take it back.

“Wherever I can,” Simon answers. “Like you.”

“Then why are you covered in so much blood?”

You step between them, as if you could do anything if they did start fighting.

“Brandon, what are you getting at?” You ask. “You don’t seriously think…?”

“Well where the hell did all that blood come from then?!”

Simon scoffs, puts a little hysteria in it. “You think I did all this?! You think I - that I-”

Except once he starts laughing in disbelief, he can’t stop. It’s just too funny. This idiot that can’t recognize something that doesn’t belong to him has Simon clocked in less than five cumulative minutes. Meanwhile, you’ve been orbiting around him like a little moon for months and haven’t had so much as an inkling.

“I can’t,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “I can’t keep a straight face. Never was much of an actor.”

The blood is draining from your face as you stare at him, warring with denial burning in your eyes. He coos, slips the mask from his back pocket and waves it in front of your face.

“Been too long since we last did this, eh, luv? Better venue than the hospital at least.”

You whimper, too frightened to even cry properly, all that water and energy going into survival. He takes a single step forward and grins as you nearly trip over yourself getting away.

“Careful, luv. I want a proper chase from you this time.”

But first-

“If you stay right there and give her time to run, I might not flay off all your skin.”

And the fucking coward bolts. Simon tsks in disgust, pulls the mask over his face.

“Looks like you didn’t learn the lesson last time,” he muses to you. “Your friends haven’t got any better. I’ll have to find another way to make the lesson stick.”

You pivot and dart around the couch, sprinting for the same doorway Brandon went through. Simon merrily follows, hopping the couch and letting his boots land hard to warn you that he’s right behind you.

You take sharp corners and double back, thinking that his larger size will make it harder to change directions. It would be smart in any other situation, against anyone else. But this is Simon, and he’s letting you stay just out of reach. Only tugging at your clothes when it seems like you need an extra boost.

As you’re passing through a doorway, there’s an ominous creak. A huge grandfather clock that nearly slams into Simon. You don’t dare look back, taking the next corner and disappearing.

Simon looks up at the landing where the clock used to stand. Brandon is leaning over the railing, white knuckled and despairing. Simon cracks his neck, rolls his shoulders.

“Alright then.”

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Masterlist

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #dark fic #reader fic #charmed slasher ghost #final girl reader

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ryemackerel · 3 months ago

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BIG BIRTHDAY BASH ON APRIL 10!!! The big ryemackerel special occasion is finally here!! I turn 19 today GAHAAGHHH 1 year older <333

Cheers to breadfish nation for being awesome. Featuring my persona for the special day!

Ive been stoked as hell for my bday YAAAAGHH :-] Not gonna lie I don’t got much ideas to celebrate it, but just being around and just vibing brings me nothing but joy UAGAHGH Thank you for the awesomness my dudes <333

And as per usual, for any special occasion means a huge description! It really means a lot just knowing there’s a buncha cool people who like my stuff, and I’m so happy to have met so many cool people from it :-] Gahhh YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME!!

YEAH it’s weird knowing that I’m a bit older now? And the fact that I’m one year closer to 20 is insane man BAHA. Becoming an adult is a very liberating yet very strange experience and I’m all here for it man.

Not only am I looking forward to just having lots of freedom to do stuff as an adult, but just meeting new super cool friends and learning new stuff as I go :-] I love seeing it as this cool journey, and not only with life and stuff, but with art.

I know I draw a looottt more differently now than I used to draw back in December, but I still think about how differently I might draw in like, 3 months from now??

OH YEAH AND IM TAKING TESTOSTERONE SOON HELL YEAAAAAAHHHH

AUGHRP. My mind is so foggy because I haven’t looked away from my screen since like 6 hours ago making this 😭 LAST THINGS TO SAY!! AUAUAUU TAKE CARE FOLKS!! HAVE AN AWESOME DAY AND THANK YOU FOR BEING COOL PEOPLE!! I’m looking forward to seeing how this day will turn out :-]

TAKE CARE AND STAY AWESOME!!

#oc #oc art #oc artwork #original character #original character art #persona #persona art #sona #sona art #character design #character design art #ryemackerel art thing

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 6 months ago

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I wanted to ask for some fem! Reader x Dani/touya angst. Kind of like him disappearing for a while and coming back randomly without saying anything to her, and he really pushes her limits by leaving for 6 months and not telling her anything at all. like no updates about if he’s even alive or not. So one night Dabi comes back and sees her getting back home from a date and the two get into an argument and the reader is like are we even together? And Dabi’s thinking they are but she says she isn’t sure anymore because he keeps leaving her with no word and she’s tired of it but never says she’s done with the relationship, just that she Doesn’t want to see him right now. Dabi tries to ask her about the guy she was on a date with but she says nothing and the story ends with basically Dabi saying to himself he’s going to find the guy so he doesnt come near her again.

A/N: I haven’t written for Dabi in idk HOWWWW LONGGG UGGH, I missed him so much 😔 my toxic king. But I loved this so much, I’ve been in an angst slump lately because it’s all I can think to write right now. Regardless thank you so much for your request!!

Warnings: Toxic Behavior!! On again off again relationship! Miscommunication! avoidant attachment?

Navigation!!

Without a trace

The air was cold and sharp as Dabi stepped out of the shadows and into the familiar street where you lived. The streetlights flickered, casting faint halos of light over the pavement. His black coat hung loose around him, and a lit cigarette dangled between his fingers, the ember glowing faintly in the dark. Six months—it had been six long months since he last stood here, since he last saw you.

He hadn’t meant to stay away that long. He hadn’t meant to stay away at all. But life had a way of pulling him in directions he couldn’t control. Not when you were tied to a world so far removed from his chaos.

Still, his chest tightened as he looked at your apartment building. Would you be angry? Hurt? Relieved to see him? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he needed to see you, to reassure himself that you were still here, still waiting—still his.

Then he saw you.

You were walking up the street, illuminated by the dim glow of the streetlights. Relief washed over him for a brief moment—until his eyes landed on the man walking beside you.

The stranger leaned in, saying something that made you laugh. A soft, genuine sound. Dabi’s chest tightened as jealousy burned through him, hotter than his flames. His fingers twitched, and he had to clench his fist to stop himself from making a scene right there.

The man lingered at the entrance of your building, his hand brushing your arm before you waved him off with a small smile. Dabi stayed rooted in the shadows, watching as the guy finally turned and walked away. He felt his jaw clench, teeth grinding as he followed you into the building.

When he reached your door, he didn’t hesitate. He pushed it open without knocking, his tall frame filling the doorway as he stepped inside.

You were in the middle of taking off your coat when you froze, your eyes locking onto him. Your expression shifted from shock to disbelief. “Dabi?”

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands shoved into his coat pockets. “Miss me?”

Your jaw dropped, and for a moment, you just stared at him, your emotions flashing across your face—relief, anger, hurt—all in rapid succession. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, your voice low but tense. “Six months, Dabi. Six months. Not a single word, and now you just show up? Like this?”

He shrugged, his tone casual, though his eyes never left yours. “I had things to do.”

“‘Things to do,’” you repeated bitterly, hanging your coat on the rack with shaky hands. “That’s all you’ve got to say? I thought you were dead, Dabi. I thought—” You cut yourself off, your voice cracking as you shook your head.

“Well, I’m not,” he said, stepping further into the apartment. “I’m here now. That’s what matters, isn’t it?”

“Is it?” you snapped, whirling to face him. “Because I don’t think it is. You keep doing this—leaving without a word, disappearing for weeks, months. Do you have any idea what that does to me? Do you even care?”

“Of course I care,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly. “But I can’t just sit around here, playing house. I’ve got a life, things I need to handle.”

“A life you never let me be part of,” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “You just leave me behind and expect me to wait. Like I’m nothing more than—than some afterthought to you.”

“You’re not an afterthought,” he growled, stepping closer. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane in all this. But I can’t drag you into my world, alright? It’s not safe.”

“And what about me?” you asked, your voice rising now to match his. “What about how I feel? I’m not asking you to tell me everything, Dabi—I just need to know that you’re alive. That you’re coming back.”

He fell silent, his jaw working as he struggled to find the right words. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

You let out a bitter laugh, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Are you serious right now? You didn’t want me to worry? So you thought it was better to let me think you were dead?”

“I didn’t think it’d be this long,” he admitted, his voice softening, though the frustration lingered in his tone. “Things got complicated.”

“They always do with you,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. “And you know what? I’m tired of it, Dabi. I’m tired of waiting, of worrying, of wondering if you even care.”

“I do care,” he said, his voice rough. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Then why do you keep doing this to me?” you asked, your voice breaking. “Why do you keep leaving me?”

He didn’t have an answer for that. At least, not one he could give you without exposing the mess of his life.

The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. Finally, you let out a shaky breath, stepping back from him. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Dabi.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I don’t even know if we’re still together,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest as tears threatened to spill. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”

His stomach dropped. “Of course we are,” he said, his voice rough and almost defensive. “We’ve always been together.”

“Then why do I feel so alone?” you asked, your voice soft and trembling.

Dabi took a step closer, his hands twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach out to you but didn’t know how. “I’m here now. Doesn’t that count for something?”

You shook your head, tears slipping down your cheeks. “It’s not enough, Dabi. It’s not enough to just show up when it’s convenient for you. I need more than this.”

The words sliced through him, and for once, he didn’t have a retort. He just stood there, staring at you, his chest heaving as the weight of your pain settled over him.

Finally, you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath. “I think you should go,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Go?” he repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yeah,” you said, your tone firm despite the tears in your eyes. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

He stood there for a moment, his body tense, his fists clenched at his sides. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out, the door closing behind him with a soft click.

As he stepped out into the cold night air, his mind raced with the memory of the man who’d walked you home. His jaw tightened, the image of you laughing with someone else burning into his mind like a brand.

He didn’t know who the guy was, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let anyone else take you from him.

#dabi x reader #dabi todoroki #bnha dabi #mha dabi #dabi x you #dabi my hero academia #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader angst #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #mha touya #touya x reader #bnha touya #dabi touya

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fandomwritingbit · 1 year ago

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Sweet girl pt.6

Dbf William Afton x (fem) virgin reader

Synop: Your parents are throwing a neighbourhood party, you're looking forward to it. It's too bad you're going to miss all of it.

Warnings: smut, oral, taking of virginity, public sex, coercion, corruption and manipulation. William is pretty evil ngl.

Imma just link to the masterlist, this series is getting well too long lol.

A/n: I've never written cherry-popping before I hope this is okay. This is so far from my experience it's hard to believe it'd be the same even lmao. Also my writer's block has been so fucking bad recently, I need all the slack you're willing to give.

It sounded great when your parents first put it to you: a barbeque a few weekends from now, the whole neighbourhood invited to enjoy some good food and sunshine. The perfect excuse to flaunt a gorgeous lavender dress you bought months ago, it caught your eye on a sales rack, a perfect flowy fabric that clung to all the right places. Your size, a match made in heaven. You can’t help but shiver with the thought of how William will react to it, handsy is the word that springs to mind, not that you are against that.

The day of, you step into that dress, the fabric soft and almost soothing around your body. It’s hot today and you’re glad for the lightness of the material, though you think that maybe the heat on your face is from anticipation. He’s all you think about, the danger of him asking you to touch him with your dad barely 10 feet away, the beautiful feeling of his fingers inside you tearing an orgasm out of you like nothing you've had before, the nights you’ve spent calling him and getting off. You’re addicted to all of it and it has your fingers dipping into your panties at any given opportunity.

You pad downstairs about ten minutes before people are set to arrive, finding your mum and dad hurrying around. “Oh you look lovely, sweetie.” Your dad says in passing, carrying an overly big bowl of salad towards your dining table. It was full of all kinds of buffet bits, but enough space left for guests to contribute things, as tends to be customary. Right now the amount of food seems over the top, but you know that once things get going your house will be full of everyone with a tie to the community.

…

And you were correct, your house is swarming. People in the living room, the dining room, outside, all chatting and greeting neighbours that ‘they really should see more often’. You’re herded around groups of people by your mum and dad, introductions and re-introductions said to what felt like hundreds, but was likely only twenty or so. You are as polite as you can, smiling through small talk about your education and how much you’ve changed since last year, but your heart’s not in it, your eyes are constantly flicking around for William. It should be easy to spot him, he's a tall enough fella, but your searching keeps turning up empty.

Your glancing around the room is interrupted by a squeaky, “Oh my god, y/n?” You turn to where the voice is coming from, instantly recognising the girl of your age who was squeezing past your dad to get to you. “I haven’t seen you since… school.” She pulls a face at the word ‘school’ which you commiserate with, you can’t place this girl's name but the mention of school makes you frown. Your manners are important to you but it doesn’t take a genius to realise that if you haven't seen someone in years, there’s most likely a reason why.

“Yeah… It’s been a long time.” You agree, giving her a bright smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. In the middle of this awkward interaction you clap eyes on him and your heart jumps in your chest in such a ridiculous way you pray it doesn’t show on your face. He’s talking to a bloke you know from three or four houses down, a small smile on his face that has an air of amusement like he’s laughing internally at the gentleman’s expense.

You are almost physically pulling away from this conversation but the lass doesn’t stop talking, oblivious to your lack of interest as she tells you all about her cosmetology school and her apprenticeship. You just don’t have the rudeness in you to walk away so you grit your teeth and ride out the conversation, eagerly watching William out of the corner of your eye.

It takes so long trying to get her to leave that by the time she’s got out her phone and is part way through finding you on instagram, William is slinking out of the room. The moment she’s done, you brush her off with a polite see you later, leaving the room in the path your bad influence had used. You’re experiencing some kind of withdrawal from not having his attention, it’s pathetic but it’s true, and achingly obvious in how you walk your house searching for him… again.

You find him in your living room and you edge through a group of chatting neighbours to get through to him and as you get near still unnoticed you find your mum standing beside him, looking up at him and talking through a wide grin. “It feels like a long time since I’ve seen you properly, William.” It takes you no effort to lock onto your mother’s words, they make you frown instantly.

“Yeah I’ve been busy with work.” He shakes his head, “I’ll have to come and see you and Chris soon.” And your lovely daughter, he mentally adds, though some of the intention must show on his face because the woman in front of him puts her hand on his arm. His eyes widen.

“Anytime.” She says, doubling down on it, “I mean it, any-time. I like having you around.” Something about the tone of that turns your frown into a scowl. It’s flirtation, and you burn with anger. Jealousy, yes, you can’t help it, it’s instant, but for god’s sake your dad is right fucking there. You don’t consider how you could be overreacting, the indignation is too strong, so you leave the room in a huff, feeling like a fucking idiot for spending your whole day looking for a bloke who clearly wasn’t looking for you. It stings and in a flurry you remind yourself that all the things you’ve done with him are only your first times, not his.

You’re out of the house before you know it, keeping your head down as you go far to the bottom of your garden where a hedge gives you respite from turning heads. You’re not crying, but you’re not a mile away from it either. Maybe it’s that withdrawal again, but you stand in the corner feeling let down, lonely and stupid. Anger at your mum outweighs anger at William, but the latter is still strong.

You stand there for a while, getting a better grip on your emotions, you need enough of a hold to walk back inside and either brave more of the party or hide away in your room. This is when people need a smoke, you think to yourself, wondering if a fag could actually help relax someone in this state.

Calming yourself down takes a good few minutes but once you get there, you decide that yeah, you need some quiet for a bit, then some thought about why you went off the handle so quickly, why you’re so enamoured by William. But to do that you’re going to have to escape this whole party, preferably without being noticed because if someone asks you how you are right now, you don’t know how you’re going to react.

So you slip out your hiding place, peeking around the hedge to see the silent picture of people through your back windows. Here we go. You cross the garden pretty quickly and soon get your hands on the door handle into the house, you step inside managing to smile at the few heads that turn your way. But that smile soon drops away when he appears. Your heart jumps at the sudden confrontation, so long of trying to catch him but now you don’t want him anywhere near you.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding.” William’s voice drips with honey and you try to ignore the warmth already settling in your core, but you know it’s a battle you won’t win.

You turn from his invasive gaze, hands a little shaky as you try to close the sliding door behind you. “Hey, where are you going, hm?” His eyes narrow at the blatant way you’re ignoring him, he can’t hold a serious expression though so a confused smirk rests on his face, how sweet you look with that pet lip. He puts his hand on your arm, halting the process of closing the door easily, no force necessary, the touch is enough. “Come with me outside, sweetheart, come on.”

You look up at him frowning, partially from previous anger, partially from fear that someone else will see, how he can dare to be so obvious is beyond you. There’s no room to reason with him, not when he’s already opening the door again, already guiding you through it, that grip still present on your arm. It’s not a firm hold, it’s barely there but, the skin to skin contact has you enthralled.

He takes you all the way back to the hidden spot you left just minutes ago, only this time it doesn’t feel like such a safe space. Once out of view he lowers his head down to look you in your face, not liking when you turn away and so catching your chin with his thumb. “Are you alright, sweet thing? What’s wrong?”

His sickly sweet tone is enough to spark a flash of anger as bright as it is sudden. “Why don’t you ask my mum?” You snap, your voice much more petulant than it is clever, the patheticness of it has your cheeks hot but you double down. William just grins, confusion leaving his brow furrowed. This is new, he thinks, you’ve never taken that tone with him before, it’s fun, shiny-new and exciting.

You continue, provoked by him not understanding what you mean, “...You seemed to be enjoying her company anyway...” You speak dejectedly, your jealousy running riot with you. You want to pull away from him, the lack of genuineness in his expression inflames you, he thinks it’s all a game and you can’t believe you’ve only just cottoned on.

William hums in acknowledgement before dropping his hand from you, you’re glad that he’s taking you that bit more seriously but it’s downright shameful how you miss the contact already.

It takes a lot in him not to laugh, the unfounded envy practically has your eyes glowing. This is good though, such passion all from feeling cast aside, you so desperately want him to want you and that is just perfect. For him. He faces your glare dead on, being very careful not to patronise you too much. “What exactly are you jealous of?”

You open your mouth to protest, hating yourself for being so easy to read. You know your bitterness is written on every inch of you, your closed stance, your harsh jaw, the immature tone of your voice, but you just can’t fucking help it. There’s no point denying it, so you don’t bother. “There…” you stumble, having to abandon your daggers to continue, “You didn’t have to flirt with my mum right in front of my face like that… and my dad’s.”

He nods, sighing before answering you through a slick grin, “I think maybe your mam was teasing me, a little.” That grin simply blossoms, thorough amusement peeking out of hiding, “But you more than anyone should know that flirting with me isn’t half as boring as that was.”

You don’t have time to fight the way you flush, it’s not fair, are you really this easy to win over? He’s doing the William equivalent of batting his eyelashes at you and you’re falling for it, you must want to deep down. But you still don’t trust him as far as you could throw him, which is needless to say, not far.

“Come on, why would I even consider your mother when I have her sweet girl looking at me so moody right now, huh?” You roll your eyes at that, moving to turn away and think for yourself but he stops you, his hands on you holding you still and muting the dull noise around you. “At least tell me what I can do to make it better. How can I earn your forgiveness?” He speaks with a certain glee, prideful of his art form, like you’re some puzzle he’s solved before. And with his face close to yours he adds mockingly, “Or have I got it already?”

You want to touch him, shut him up, but you’re a mere corner away from the whole neighbourhood. “You’re slimy.” You speak honestly, well maybe you’re sugar-coating it even, “And I’m not stupid.” Your conviction is there, but the physical support isn’t, you’re looking up at him like a doe, breathing quicker than normal, your chest rising and falling fast in your new dress.

He laughs, “True. But watch it, you’ll hurt my feelings.” He has something else to say, some other mocking teasing syrup, you don’t let him, throwing yourself towards him. Your lips press against his in a sudden desperate way, like you’ve something to prove. Your lack of finesse could be mistaken for hunger but he knows you better than that, he dominates the kiss without much effort, easily pulling you along with his rhythm. He likes you like this, smart, able to see through him, it turns him on. Because what’s better than spoiling a naive young woman? Spoiling one who knows it’s happening and can’t help herself either way.

William breaks the kiss, hands eagerly taking in your shape, “Let me make you forgive me, right here.” As he talks his touch slides low, over your arse and making your back curve against him. “I’m dying to pull this cute dress up.” You need it, just whining some form of approval, wordless at that predator’s glint in his gaze. He slides his hand between your legs and you’re keen, shivering at the spark of pleasure and eagerly angling your hips for more.

He pauses his touch for a moment, breath staggering as he thinks about what he’s going to do, you hardly notice for your own need. When you do look at him, you see him shaking his head, snickering at something unbeknownst to you.

He moves then, debasing himself by dropping to his knees on the grass, hands grabbing your skirt fabric up above your waist band, gathering it there in one to rive your panties down with the other. The cool air invades you, unwarned exposure making you moan. “William-”

“Shush.” He chastises bluntly, as if his thumb wasn’t now resting against your clit and giving it a perfect gentle pressure. He knows what you’re going to say, “You don’t want anyone to see, huh? Well, bite your tongue. I don’t have to worry about mine.” The words are wicked with innuendo and you have to stifle everything in you except a sharp intake of breath when he shows you exactly what he’s doing with his tongue.

It’s dirty, shame-ridden and debauched, but you’re at the mercy of his mouth devouring your cunt. Parting your seam to toy with the slick plea of your hole. You can hardly stand still, body shaking with fretful want, it’s too much and not nearly enough, you have to battle to keep quiet against the vindictive way your core is tightening.

His tongue drags through your slit and he sniggers against you before cruelly sucking your bundle of nerves. You’re grabbing him, pulling him closer, trying to push him away, as you tingle with need for your end. He’s relentless, playing your instrument just right and you have no faculty to ask for respite. Your coil clenches tight and snaps, and you come undone right there in your garden, waves of bliss so bright your legs shake and you need his arms to hold you up. There are tears in your eyes and you don’t know if they’re because of your climax or the emotional whiplash you’ve just endured. You don’t have it in you to care.

He pulls away from you and you watch over-blissed as he wipes your slick from his face on the back of his hand, letting your skirt fall to its rightful position. “Now that’s the perfect thing I’ve missed.” He stands, his eyes dark with arousal. “You’re a good girl on the phone but fuck there’s nothing like it in person.”

You beam with pride, his praise so much nicer when you’re pliant and glistening from pleasure. How bad an idea that was isn’t lost on you, but it was worth it, even if now you have to pull your knickers up to hide the evidence. As you do, you see how filthy he is, mud coating his knees and you laugh.

Struggling to explain yourself through the shocked giggles you manage to state, “Your trousers are ruined.”

He looks down and sees why you’re so lost in laughter, he had weighed up his options though and tasting your sweet pussy was more than worth the dirt. William attempts to brush some away but it’s never going to happen, and so with a sigh he sniggers, “Am I old enough to have people believe I fell?”

You burst out laughing at that, unable to regain yourself for a while, he deserves that, you think. After some time you are lucid enough to say, “Maybe say tripped instead of fell.” Your cheeks are shiny with both the fit of giggles and the aftermath of your activity, you look so delectable he hardly minds the state of his clothes.

“Why don’t,” William begins, still smirking, and you give him as much of your attention as you can, “you show me your room? I’d like to see it in person.” He’s testing to see how much forgiveness he’s won, you know that, but the prospect of what’s to come is motivation enough to give him it.

“Okay.” You agree, the idea of it has your chest tight but your core knows better, “Should I be scared?” You’re joking, mostly, your room is a different beast, much more personal. Somehow more bare than what you’ve just done.

“Very.”

Walking through your house felt dangerous, like it’s written on your forehead that you’re doing something wrong. People are eating now though, too self-absorbed to notice the rabbit leading the fox to its burrow, which is for the best, all things considered.

He follows you obediently, mind half-focused on your retreating form, the other half pondering just what he’s going to do about this raging erection he’s afflicted with. You looked so sweet taking him in your mouth, so eager to please, malleable. But your perfect unbroken cunt would be just delightful to rut against. As much as he wants to, he won’t- can’t deflower you just yet, not with all these people around to hear the squeaking of bedsprings, hell, the squeaking of you. The idea makes his cock throb and he’s already palming himself before you reach the landing.

“This one.” You say, opening the door for him, your voice sounds much smaller than it did two minutes ago. You are scared, all jokes aside.

He moves past you inside, you’re the one to shut the door, sealing the two of you inside your bedroom. How out of place he looks, this huge hulking figure in your untainted room, the walls pastel, the sheets light and the curtain frilled.

“I could have told you your room looks like this.” His grin is wolfish, the imposition feels very metaphorical and he revels in it. He’s absent-mindedly touching things, a bottle of perfume on your drawers, then a teddy on your bed, you like how they look in his hands, delicate, breakable.

You find yourself speaking before the words are clear in your mind, “William…” He turns to you, still holding the fucking bear, visibly overjoyed to be in your private space, piece by piece you’ve let him in here, first through a camera now this, it’s all very correct.

“Hm?”

You’re flummoxed for words, arms folded across your chest in some vain effort to keep yourself together, “I want to t-touch you. On th-the bed.” The request takes a part of your soul with it, it’s unveiled and glaringly obvious, but there’s no other way to say it, that is what you want. Well, some of it.

Chuckling, he throws the teddy aside, “That is the best thing anyone has ever asked me.” He means it, he could touch the peak now with just how pretty you’re talking to him.

He moves slightly and you interrupt him, the rest of your want raising its whiny head. “You’ll have to take t-that off.” You’re pointing at his trousers and he laughs, remembering the muck decorating his legs, but the laughter dies quickly and he fixes you with a quizzical look, eyes narrowed as he again reads you like a book.

“Because of the mud, or another reason?” He teases and you bite your lip, your answer wearing you, more than the other way around. Much like the way smugness is wearing him. “I know you like to see, you’re quite fascinated, aren’t you?” He grabs himself as he speaks, crude, garish and vulgar, and it prickles your sides.

“You like to see me.” You retort, trying not to feel the embarrassment your brain really wants you to.

“Very true.”

…

Fascinated is perhaps the right word, you are fascinated by him. It’s more than just that he’s handsome or you find him attractive, it’s curiosity, desire to understand. The broadness of his shoulders, the muscle on his arms, the hair on his chest, his legs, his cock; it is fascinating.

You start off sitting beside him on your duvet, enjoying the sight of him with his dick in your hand. Observing what your action is doing, how his breath changes for you, then a deep groan when you smear the precum beading on his tip. It’s driving you crazy and in a sudden realisation you need more. You want it all, want to know how his thickness is going to feel inside you, good, bad, dirty and ugly, you need it.

And you tell him.

The view of William above you is insane, the dark greying hair trailing down his chest leading your gaze down to the sight of him stroking his cock, positioned above your cunt. He presses against you occasionally, your hot slick beckons for him and he thrusts himself through it, restraint a heavy weight on his shoulders. It’s maddening.

“Please…” You whine, any trace of dignity you had is long gone, you’re corroded, worn down to your bare minimum and you need him to feel the same way.

He takes his eyes off your glistening cunt to flash you a devastating smirk, “Please, what?” The teasing makes you shift underneath him, desperate for more, that’s just how he wants you. As he watches you he pleasures himself, it’s bloody stupid how weak your pretty hole has got him.

The lewd words burn in your throat, there’s no debate in saying them, not anymore, “Fuck me… please.” You manage to choke out, but it still fails to convey your need to be filled. His fingers had made you see stars, but you’re greedy for more, you want him to come undone inside you. You want to drive him mad.

Well, he didn’t expect you to say that. You want him to take your innocence right now? Right on your lacy fucking bed sheets? With your parents downstairs? Clearly you’re not thinking straight, you’re too fucked up and that is just delicious. Your plea makes his cock twitch in his hand, he wants nothing more than to stretch your sweet pussy around him but you could hardly handle his fingers. You hardly know what you’re begging for.

“You want me inside?” As he speaks he rubs his cock over your pussy lips, there’s an almost sinister quality to his voice that makes your core tighten.

You nod, squirming away from the teasing of your aching bundle of nerves; that’s exactly what you want.

William sniggers, “I can’t, sweetheart. Not with everyone downstairs to hear.” You hardly notice the noises you make, but you’re vocal as anything, whining from the tiniest touch, he has no doubt his cock would make you scream. The reasoning falls on deaf ears, you don’t care because his power over you is too strong. You just want his cock inside you so he becomes as pathetic as you are.

“Please.” You try again, this time shifting your body to roll your hips against his cock to show you’re serious, but your thighs quiver at the stimulation.

In a sudden movement he seizes your jaw, forcing your gaze away from his cock on your swollen pussy to the dark look in his eyes. The restraint is visible, a clear crack in his in-control façade. He can’t help it, your begging is making him leak again, impatient precum oozing from his tip, begging alongside you for stimulation. How’s he supposed to hold himself back from this perfect untouched cunt right here asking him to deflower it?

“Do you even know what you’re asking for?” He speaks slow, a singsong tone to the words that’s a little sharper than intended due to the continued rolling of your hips. “It’s not to be taken lightly.”

You watch him wide-eyed, understanding his words is a conscious effort. “It’s not just a quick fuck, sweetheart. It’s me breaking this little pussy. Taking your innocence.” He punctuated the filthy point by lining his cock up with your entrance, eliciting a terrified pang of excitement in your core. “Stretching you open. You know what that means?”

He pauses but you don’t have the speech to answer, he thought as much, “Means it’s all mine. My little toy to use whenever I want. Break it over and over.” At this moment it doesn’t occur to you that this is the real William, not just slimy but the honest William who knows he’s bad, creepy, gross whatever you want to call it. The man who’s blatantly moulding you into something he can use, using your sexual naivety against you and playing your mind and body like a fiddle.

You swallow, his words go straight to your cunt making you impossibly wetter. He looks down at you and his control slips from his fingertips, he knows you’re going to feel so fucking good around him, how tight and wet and fucking warm.

“That what you want?” He blatantly asks, the intention thick in the air.

“Y-yes.” You start, your back arching a little, “I want it to be yours.” You know the words are dangerous, but you have no agency to prevent them from leaving your lips. “I want you to t-take it. Please.”

He lets go of your jaw, a particularly mean expression possessing his face. “God, you are fucking stupid.” He speaks quietly but you hear, it stings and you’re unable to tell if he’s kidding or not. He wasn’t, you are stupid to let him get this far, and he’s stupid for going along with your begging.

His cock is still notched tight against your entrance and he holds you squirming still with a hand on your hip. “You’re going to be quiet for me, alright? I’m giving you what you want.” His voice is thick but you hardly notice he even spoke, your heart is pounding and your whole body tense with anticipation.

He parts your walls, pressing in slightly, just the head and your eyes ping wide. You’re wet, drenched even, ready for it but it still hurts. A noise escaped you, wounded, doubling when he presses just that little bit further. “Shh, fuck.” His curse is very telling, you’re strangling him already in the most perfect way, if he’s not careful he’s going to crack his own jaw with how tight it is in restraint. “I told you.” The words are harsher than he meant them, but seeing the tears already welling in your eyes he knows he was right.

His hand comes over your clit, drawing a circle over the bundle and it works, a blaze of pleasure drapes over the invasion but it doesn’t distract you when he moves, forcing himself a lot further in your cunt. You cry out and in a sharp movement he covers your mouth, grunting at how you tense due to the sudden action. “Ah-You’re going to do it, sweet thing. Just relax, you’re tight as a fucking vice.”

You try, blinking through tears, and focus on his rhythm on your clit, it’s better, easing. He moves, slowly pulling out then back in and you see it. The need for him inside, shaping your walls around him, your body squeezes him eager for him to continue.

Your mouth is open behind his hand, muffled sounds leaving your lips, whining, mewling, hooked on the promise of overcoming the ache and snapping the coil inside you more than ever before. If your mouth was free maybe you’d say his name, or kiss him, or curse him, you don’t really know. His movement becomes better, you can take him, he knows you can. So he thrusts deep, making you accept him, your yelp is stifled and your teeth dig into the palm of his hand, it's unnoticed, overshadowed by the perfect feeling of you cunt swallowing him completely.

“God,” He scowls.

The pain dies again, settling back to the muted ache, you’re reeling, full more than should be possible, breathing frantically through your nose. He’s slow, pushing in and out of your hole considerately, as he’d be sure to tell you. And you quickly realise with a startling joy how he digs just right into a spot deep inside you. It’s almost blinding, engulfing you in a doubly quick need to end.

Your cunt throbs and he flicks his eyes back to your face, what a good girl you are. He can feel the change in you, the rise of pleasure over pain, the way you panic at the growth of your end, your eyes say it all fearful of what’s going to happen. You’re close to an end, body burning and falling rigid underneath him. It hits you like a train, each time he shoves himself deep is electric, it's intense and you white-knuckle just to take the pace he keeps as you cum around him.

“Fuck, baby.” His words are edged with his own ruin, the rhythm of his pace growing brave, selfish, you’re taking it so well. And he loses it, no sense in him to pull out, he doesn’t care, your perfect cunt wants it. He’s biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself quiet as his warmth spills inside you, thrusts sloppy to push his cum deep inside you. You whimper, it's a dirty feeling, but a right one and seeing the look on his face you realise that you were right, he looks as pathetic as you feel.

He removes his hand from your mouth, your skin red under his grip, freeing you to moan pitifully. You’re wrecked, somehow exhausted and exhilarated at the same time. You don't know how you feel, your climax was like something unreal and when he slowly pulls out of you, you feel empty. William was right, you’re changed.

He sits beside your form still laid exactly as he left you, your pretty pussy flushed and shining. “You alright?”

You blink, like you somehow forgot he was a person able to speak, “Yeah, I think so.” Your voice is hoarse as fragile as the rest of you and it makes him grin.

He looks down at you, and just laughs, at you, at him, at the situation, “What the fuck are we supposed to do now then?”

It makes you chuckle and you run your hand over your face. Yeah, what exactly should you do now?

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton smut #fnaf smut #william afton x you #fnaf william afton #william afton x female reader

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sugarcoatedstarkey · 2 years ago

Text

Artwork

Pairing- Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary - Rafe takes notice of tattoos on a girl.

Warnings- language, drinking, sexual intercourse, foreplay, scratching.

A/n- it’s been a while so please be kind, welcome to give constructive criticism but don’t be rude 💜🖤

It was the little tattoos she had scattered across her olive skin that first caught Rafe’s eyes. The art on her body sent shivers down his spine.

He’d never been one for tattoos, hadn’t ever really taken much notice if someone had or hadn’t any. But, this time he couldn't keep his eyes off the little drawings.

She had jet black hair that cascades over her shoulders, it had the softest of waves and stopped just below her shoulder blade. Her nails painted a deep red, the same color as her lips. Freckles that kissed the skin of her flawless face, scandalous brown eyes.

He had watched her on the odd occasion, sipping from the red solo cup, talking to her friends, swaying her hips to the music. He was working up the courage to talk to her, he was never one to feel nervous around women. But, with her it was a different story.

He couldn’t help the grunt that escaped his lips when John B strolled over to her, a cocky grin on his face as he handed her a bottle of tequila.

She accepted it with a smile and took a swig, for a split second her eyes landed on him. His throat closed in and the music around became silent.

But then her eyes were back on John B and rage filled his insides, the can in his hands was crushed within seconds.

“Bro, what’s wrong?” Topper questioned, taking the crushed can from him and replacing it with a new one.

Rafe didn’t need to respond as Topper caught on quickly when he looked over at the girl Rafe had been hooked on for the past 6 months, John B’s arm wrapped around her shoulder as they laughed.

“I got you” Topper states, he’s walking away before Rafe can ask what he meant. He watches his best friend walk over to John B, he whispers something in his ear and steps back.

“What did you just say bro?” John B yells, he puffs out his chest and clenches his fists at the side of his body. Topper pushes his fingers into John B’s shoulders and nudges him away, this only causes John B to fire up and before you know it they are throwing punches.

Rafe’s eyes move from the fight towards the girl, she looks frightened. Her feet carry her backwards and her friends grab at her, pulling her towards the exit.

Rafe knew this was his last chance, so he swallows the anxiety bubbling in his throat and strides towards her.

“Hey, let's get you away from here” he smiles, he presses the palm of his hand to her lower back and escorts her towards the empty kitchen.

He doesn’t miss the look she gives her friends and the wave of her hand in their direction. She smiles up at him as they come to a stop against the island bench, he smiles back.

“I’m Rafe” he offers, she smiles even brighter this time. Her teeth aren’t perfect, one tooth overlaps another but it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Hi Rafe, I’m y/n”.

Her voice sends the blood rushing to his cock, moving his body so he’s hidden behind the bench. “Lovely to meet you y/n”.

“I’ve noticed you at a few other parties, you're not from around here though?” He questions, he occupies himself by pouring them both a drink. Vodka and cranberry, his favorite.

“I’m from Charleston, I come over here pretty much every weekend though. Better parties and people” she states, accepting the drink. She brings the rim of the cup to her painted lips and takes a sip.

“Yeah parties are pretty great over here, haven’t been to many in Charleston to compare though”.

She nods and takes another sip, for a moment they just stare at each other. The fighting in the other room had stopped and now the room just filled with the humming of the stereo bass.

“I’ve noticed you at a few parties too, each time I catch you staring I think you're going to speak to me, but you don’t. How come?” She questions, her fingers fiddle with her rings. Twisting them back and forth as she waits for his answer.

“You noticed. I was nervous, you were always with friends and you're so beautiful. I didn’t know how to introduce myself” he admits, he throws back the last of his drink. Hoping the alcohol would calm the nerves.

“Thank you, I too was nervous. I wanted to introduce myself a few times, a lot of girls spoke highly about you, I wasn’t sure if I was your type”.

“Oh your my type, your way better than any other girls on this island” he says, chewing on the inside of his mouth until he sees the corner of her lips curve into a bashful smile.

“Rafe”

“Yeah?”

“Can you kiss me?”

He grabs her by the waist and pulls her towards him, her hips pressed against the bench. One of his hands cradles her face while the other holds her hip tightly, his thumb caressing her lower lip and pulling her mouth apart.

“I’ve wanted to do this the moment I laid eyes on you” he whispers against her lips, he presses his to hers before she can speak.

It’s soft, there’s no movement. He pulls away, hunger overtakes her chocolate brown eyes and she grabs his face. Pulling him against her roughly and kissing him again, her tongue slips between his lips and they fight for dominance.

The air feels sticky, their breaths heavy and skin sweaty. Her fingers run through his hair, pulling every few seconds. His hands grip her waist and he lifts her to sit on the island, slotting himself between her parted thighs.

She wraps her legs around him, pressing her warm core against his jean clad cock. His hands run up and down her back, trying to pull her as close to him as possible.

“Take me to a room Rafe”

“Are you sure?”

“Take me to a room before I get naked in this room and let everyone see us fuck”

His hands grab her backside, pulling her away from the bench. He steps out of the kitchen, slipping behind the party and down towards the guest rooms of Toppers house.

“How do you know where to go?” She questions, her lips sucking and biting at his neck. “It’s my friend's house”.

She nods and grabs his face again, pressing her lips to his.

He steps into a room and locks the door behind them; switching on a floor lamp he takes her over towards the bed.

His chest feels tight as the nerves kick in, if he wasn’t holding her he knew his hands would be shaking. He had slept with girls before, kicked them out afterwards and never felt a thing.

But he knew the moment he laid eyes on her things would be different, he wouldn’t be able to kick her out afterwards. He wasn’t having sex with her just for his pleasure, he wanted to please her, wanted to watch the look of ecstasy on her face.

“Rafe” she whispered, her fingers unbuttoning her shirt slowly. The material began to pool away from her chest, exposing a dark green lace bra, the swell of her breasts had the saliva gathering in his mouth.

He hadn’t expected her to have tattoos on her breasts or even her ribs, the pictures painted on her olive skin had his dick throbbing for her.

“Fuck your beautiful” he whispered, her shirt now lay on the floor of the bedroom. She sat back on her elbows, legs spread just enough for him to kneel between.

She stared up at him through her thick lashes, her chest moved harshly as she too tried to calm her nerves.

“Can I touch you”

“Do whatever you want to me Rafe” she breathed, he leaned forward pressing his lips to her collarbone. Moving his way down her chest stopping to suck small bruises into her breast, his fingers pulling down the cups of her bra to expose her perky tits, her nipples hardened under his touch. His fingers massaged her breasts, as his mouth sucked on her right nipple.

Her breathing was staggered, her hips raised up to meet his for some sort of friction. His hand left her breast to push her hips back down on the bed, his lips moved down her body, licking and kissing each small tattoo on her stomach.

“Rafe”

He bummed against her ribs, her fingers once again began to unbutton her shorts. He pulled away to grab the back of his shirt, pulling it over his head and throwing it to the floor.

Her fingers left her pants to touch his abs, her eyes focused on his tensed stomached. “Beautiful” she whispered, her fingers dropped to his shorts.

He let her unzip them and he pulled away to push them down; leaving him in his boxers. She took the next step by pulling her shorts and panties away from her body, spreading her legs in front of him.

She was dripping, her cunt weeping for him to touch her. His cock twinged within his boxers, she nodded her head towards him. He wasted no time and pulled his boxers down, his cock sprang free and swayed in the air.

“Shit” she gulped, her legs closed as she pulled herself up slightly. Her hands reach for his cock, wrapping her fingers around the base.

His body shuddered under her touch, her delicate fingers worked themself against his shaft. Precum lubricated her finger tips, he pushed her back down, running his hands between her thighs. Her legs spread for him, once again exposing her wet cunt, she nodded her head before he could even ask if it was okay.

His fingers ran softly through her folders, gathering her arousal on his finger tips. Bringing it towards her clit, he massaged slowly, soft sighs left his lips.

Her head hit the pillow, eyes rolling back as two of his fingers pushed deep inside of her. His breath caught in his throat when her mouth opened and a gasp escaped. His thumb circled her clit, her juices soaked his fingers.

“I need you inside of me” she gripped his shoulders and shook him softly, he pulled her fingers away from her and pushed them into his mouth. His tongue tasting the bitterness of her arousal, goosebumps rose on his skin.

“Inside of me now!”

He moved his way above her, her legs pressed to the sides of his body. Her hips rose slightly to meet his cock, the tip of his head brushing her folds.

They stared at one another as he pushed past her folds and into her warm opening, his cock nudging it’s way through her soft, wet, sponge like walls.

“Oh god” she exclaimed, dragging her nails down his back. Her legs wrapped themselves around his body, her heel digging into his buttocks, nudging him deeper and deeper inside of her until she could feel him in her stomach.

“You feel so good, pretty girl” he groaned, rocking his hips back and forth. Her nails dug half crescent moons into his shoulders, “I like that” she hummed, her walls clenching around him.

“Like what?”

“Pretty girl”

“Good, because you are a pretty girl”

Her arms wrapped around his neck and she managed to switch them around, her body now above his, her hips rocking back and forth at an ungodly speed.

Her breasts bounced with each movement, her eyes closed tightly as she chased her high. His hand grabbed her breast, massaging it within his fingers tips, pinching and pulling at her nippled.

“Oh god, faster” she moaned, he began to move his hips to meet hers, pushing his cock deeper into her. She could feel him hitting her sweet spot, a feeling of delight ran through her, her clit rubbed against him as she rode him.

“Fuck, pretty girl. If you keep bouncing this hard I’m gonna cum before you” he groaned, reaching his hand between them to toy with her clit,

Stars began to form behind her eyelids, arousal soaked his cock and dripped down his balls. He gripped her hips and maneuvered them so they sat at the edge of the bed, his feet planted against the carpet. Her nippled between his teeth, they moved their hips in the sink.

This new position had him hitting her g spot at a better angle, she knew she was going to cum at any moment.

“Oh shit, Rafe I-” she cried, holding onto him as she came around his cock. Pressing her lips to his, she kissed him with force. Her vision blurred and legs shaking, he was close behind holding on until her second orgasm hit her at full force, she cried out in shock, he couldn’t hold on anymore and went to pull out.

“Don’t you dare” she cried, she clenched around him. Bouncing faster than before, her orgasm still rattled through her. “I’m on the pill”.

He let go instantly, his cum shooting deep within her. A low throating moan left him, his fingers digging into her thighs as she slowed down above him. Beads of sweat dripped from his forehead.

“You should have said hey sooner, we could have been doing this a lot” she joked, her walls clenched around his cock as it twitched inside of her.

“Round 2?”

Tags - @rafesthroatbaby @ijustwanttoreadlols @mountloverr @kkmstblog @pheonixssugarbaby @rafemotherfuckingcameron @lail1010 @s-we-e-t-t-ea @darleneslane @h34rtsformilli @subjecta13-thefangirl @starkey-zegras @definitelynotholly @renmpsworld @delicatepiratecloud @lydiasxxsworld @hdhdhsy @speedycomputerfury @beautifuldetectivedinosaur @voidcameron @hallecarey1 @tiacordelia02 @loverofdrewstarkey @bbycowboi @outerbankspov @teresalesbian @imnotapretzelsstuff @its-ria-07 @cameronmedia @drewstarkeysleftfoot @vigilanteshitposting @pedrisgatorade

#outerbanks smut #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey smut #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #outerbanks x Rafe #outer banks #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks fic

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venusacrossthestars · 1 year ago

Text

a choice I can live with

Summary: you thought that after that night in Monaco you would never see Carlos Sainz again. but what do they say? when one door closes another door opens.

Pairing- Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

WC-10,182

warnings- swearing, making out, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end, angst, Lando is more of an ass than he was in part one, reader is in her feels, the word slut is used.

this is a part 2 to 'a choice I don't want to make' read it HERE before reading this part

F1 masterlist

December 2021

You didn't like this foreign feeling that was settled in your stomach. All you were trying to do was pick out a movie while your popcorn cooled down, so why did it all feel so wrong? Sighing, you turned off the TV and placed the remote on the coffee table. It was Lando’s turn to pick the movie. The thought washed over you like a tidal wave. Suddenly the aspect of having a movie night no longer sounded appealing. Picking up the popcorn bowl from the coffee table, you walked over to the trash can and threw away the popcorn. Just like 15 years of friendship.

You plopped back down on your couch, sinking into the cushions. The last time you had seen Lando had been that night in Monaco; the last time you had any contact with him was when you sent him that text the following morning. That was in May. You knew that he saw your message, the taunting little ‘read’ underneath had only made you feel worse. As if it wasn’t the consequences of your own actions.

The past 6 and a half months had been miserable. Every time you had exciting news you found yourself thinking- ‘I can’t wait to tell Lando!’ only to remember that you couldn’t. You could barely talk to your own mother without feeling more guilt over the situation. You could feel her disappointment through the phone. As your mother, she was on your side, she told you as much, but it wasn’t without a disappointed sigh.

You had other friends, you had a world that didn’t revolve around your now ex-best friend but sometimes it didn’t feel like it. However, the couple of times that you had braved stalking Lando’s socials you couldn’t help but feel as if he never needed you. Maybe that was the truth.

You could face Lando’s socials, and you could manage the tweets and comments you saw about him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to check Carlos’s. Maybe it was the fear of seeing that he moved on. Maybe it was that he seemed perfectly fine. That was something you were comfortable staying in the dark with.

A knock on the door startles you out of your pitiful self-deprecating spiral. You silently groan, it was too late to be dealing with people. Maybe it was one of your neighbor's friends who got the numbers mixed up and if you stayed silent they would realize. The universe must really have it out for you because the knocking continued, louder and more insistent than before. Getting up, you shuffled to the door taking a quick peek through the peephole. The face on the other end had you quickly undoing the chain and unlocking the deadbolt.

“Carlos?”

“Hi.” Is the only thing that Carlos says.

You rub your eyes, making sure that he wasn’t an illusion, that you haven’t gone mad in these past months. When you bring your hands away from your eyes and re-open them, Carlos is still there standing in front of you with a bouquet of white tulips.

Carlos breaks the silence, “These are for you,” he holds out the bouquet, “I was told that white tulips represent an apology and forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness?” You parrot back, not taking the flowers. Why is giving you flowers that represent an apology and forgiveness? “What are you apologizing for?”

Carlos rocks back and forth on his heels, ignoring your question, “Can I come in?”

You move away from the door frame and hold the door wider allowing for Carlos to enter. Embarrassment washes over you as you come to the realization that this is the first time Carlos has been in your flat, and while it didn’t look like a total disaster, you certainly wish it was cleaner.

“What are you apologizing for?” You ask again.

Carlos spins to face you, “Do you have a vase for these?”

“Carlos,” you try again, “what are you doing here?”

Carlos wanders towards your kitchen, “Like I said, I am here to apologize.” He waves the flowers around.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“All of it. For letting Lando talk to you like that. For letting you leave with him. For letting you walk away that night on the roof. For not responding back to your text. I’m mostly sorry for how long it took me to come see you, to come talk to you.”

“Carlos, you don’t need to apologize. For any of it.”

“It takes two to tango.” He points out.

“It’s been 6 and a half months Carlos, you should move on.”

“Have you?”

That simple question was all it took for you to break. Honestly, you should have been able to move on. You should’ve been able to leave this whole situation back in Monaco. So why were your feelings for Carlos just as strong as they were back then? Even after your attempt to cut him out of your life he still stood here in your flat with a bouquet of flowers, apologizing for not coming to you sooner.

“I haven’t,” you whisper, not trusting your voice.

Carlos sets the flowers down on the counter and moves in front of you. You avert your gaze to the ground, knowing that if you looked him in the eyes there would be no stopping the tears.

Carlos doesn’t let you. His hand gently moves your chin so that you are looking him directly in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything about your tears, he only moves to wipe them away and unlike that night in Monaco, you let him. His hands are still surprisingly soft, just like that night the two of you kissed.

He moves his hands away and you nearly sob at the loss of contact but before you can say anything Carlos is pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around your middle, hands sprawled out across your back. It takes you a second to register what is happening but once you do you are quick to mirror his motions.

You bury your head into his chest and close your eyes. There is something about being wrapped in Carlos’s arms that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. You take in a shaky breath. You haven’t been this happy to see someone in a long time and that simple thought is what causes you to break out in sobs.

Carlos tries to pull away, presumingly to ask you if everything is okay, but you are quick to pull him back into your embrace. “Just hold me. Please.” You manage out between sobs.

“As you wish.”

You don’t know how long you stand in the middle of your kitchen in Carlos’s arms, and frankly, you don’t care. The soothing circles Carlos rubs on your back and the gentle swaying of both your bodies is enough to make you calm down.

“Do you want to sit down?” Carlos pulls away, hands still holding your arms.

You nod, leading him into your living room, and you sink into your couch. Carlos sits directly next to you, close enough to where both of your thighs rest against each other. “I’m sorry,” you begin, “I didn’t mean to get snot all over your shirt.”

“No need to apologize.”

“I’m sorry for more than that. I’m sorry too Carlos, for all of it. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Stop,” Carlos puts his hand up and you close your mouth. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. That night I was hurt, I didn’t stop to think what it was like in your shoes. I'll never know what it is like to have my supposed ‘best friend’ tell me to pick between two important people in my life. I've never been in that position.”

“Carlos,” you begin but he stops you again.

“I spoke to Lando the next day, right after you texted me. I was furious with him. How could someone call their best friend those things? How could he, the same man who told me that he wanted me to stay away from you because he wanted to protect you, flip a switch that easily? He showed me the message you sent and I felt my heart break more. Asking him to put all the blame on you? Asking him to not blame me when we were both responsible? Pinning all the blame on yourself just so that he and I could still be friends?”

You knew that Lando had read your message but knowing that he had shown Carlos that same day made his lack of response hurt ten times more. “You talked to him? He showed you the message?”

Carlos nods his head. “I should say I yelled at him that morning rather than talked. We’ve spoken a couple times since then but I can tell he is still furious.”

You figured, Lando wasn’t one to let go of grudges easily. “I can’t help but miss him, even with what he said to me.”

“And that’s okay,” Carlos comforts you, “he is -was- your best friend for a long time. I wouldn’t expect you not to miss him.”

“This is the first winter break we’ve been apart since we met. I don’t know what to do.” You admit to Carlos.

Carlos rests a hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles across the material of your sweatpants. And you look at him with tears in your eyes. You are so sick of crying over this whole situation, you've wasted enough tears.

“I don’t know what kind of traditions the two of you have but if you'd like, I was thinking we could make our own?” Carlos questions. You look at him with wide eyes and he continues, “I don’t want to replace him or those good memories but I think making our own would be fun.”

“I would love that Carlos.” you smile at him. “There is one thing though. If this,” you point back and forth at the both of you, “is going to be a serious relationship, we need to take it slow.”

“How slow is slow?”

“Why? Do you not want to take things slow?” You panic internally. Did he change his mind?

Does he not want to take things slow? You know that his life is fast-paced so does slow just not work for him?

“No, no, no,” he hurries out sensing your panic, “Slow is fine, I’d wait a lifetime if you asked mi amor. I’m just asking because I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

“Can I kiss you Hermosa?” Carlos asks in a whisper.

You nod and Carlos closes the gap between the two of you. Unlike the last time the two of you shared a kiss this one was slower, sweeter but somehow more passionate. With closed eyes, you relished the feeling of his lips on yours even more so because you thought you would never experience this feeling again.

Carlos pulls away after a moment and you open your eyes and glance at his swollen lips, a slight you’ll never get sick of. Overcome with emotion you launch yourself onto Carlos, pushing him on his back into the cushions of your couch.

Shock is written all over his face, “Are you okay?”

You shake your head, not trusting your voice and Carlos pulls you into his chest. Carlos’s hand runs over your head and after a moment of savoring the comforting gesture you speak up,

“Thank you for coming to see me. I really thought I’d never see you again.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

January 2022

Carlos wasn’t lying when he said that you wouldn't be able to get rid of him easily. The man was stuck on you like a popsicle on a hot summer day, not that you were complaining.

New Year’s came and went and Carlos insisted that he spend it with you. You argued that you weren’t doing anything fun, that you would probably be sleeping while everyone else was out ringing in the new year, and that he should go out and spend it with his friends. Carlos had refused, stating he rather be somewhere quiet celebrating with you. So the two of you had rang in the New Year together in your flat with a cheap bottle of champagne and poppers you set off on your balcony.

It was only a few days later that, as you were making dinner, you got a call from Carlos.

“Are you free this weekend?” Carlos asked as soon as you accepted the call.

“Well, hello to you too Carlos,” you chuckle at his enthusiasm.

“Hello mi amor, how are you this fine afternoon.”

“I am spectacular, and how are you, Mr. Sainz?” You can’t help but break out in a smile, something you seem to do whenever you hear from Carlos.

“Good, however, I would be even better if you answered my question. Are you free this weekend?”

“I think so, why?”

“I want to take you out.”

“Like on a date?”

“Yes, like a date. I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t take my love on dates, wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, I didn’t know we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend.” You tease, Carlos knew fully well how you felt about him.

“Don’t play around with me.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking you’d come over to my place and I’d cook for you.”

“Oh, I would love that but Carlos you don’t live in London.” It amuses you to have to point out that simple fact.

“I know, that’s why I asked if you were free the entire weekend. I was going to fly you out to Madrid.”

You freeze at his nonchalant attitude, to him this was a small little gesture and you can tell that he thinks nothing of it. You, on the other hand, were thinking way too much of it.

“Carlos, I can't come to Madrid. I don’t have the money for it right now.” You say defeatedly, as much as you wanted to see Carlos you couldn't drop that type of money on a flight.

“I think you missed the part where I said I would fly you out. You wouldn’t be paying for anything.”

“Carlos, this isn’t how I want this relationship to be. I won’t be seen as a sugar baby.” You tell him seriously and all you can hear is him laughing over the phone.

“Mi amor, you are not a sugar baby. You are my girlfriend. My girlfriend who I want to see and spend time with so desperately that I am offering her, as her boyfriend, to fly her to my home so she can spend time with me- her boyfriend.”

You bite the skin around your nails carefully weighing your options. You want to see Carlos but on the other hand, you were worried. What if someone spots you? What if someone outed your relationship? You still wanted to take things slow and this was all moving a little fast for you.

You voice your worries to Carlos and you hear him sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry mi amor.”

“No, I’m sorry. I should be jumping at this opportunity. You want to spend time with me and here I am acting like a brat. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Nothing is wrong with you. I need to respect your wishes. You have no need to apologize.”

“I still feel bad.”

“Don’t. There will be other opportunities.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, do not worry about it. Listen I have to go, I will call you later okay?”

“I’ll be waiting.” The two of you exchange quick goodbyes and you are then left alone with your thoughts. Saying yes wouldn’t have killed you, in fact, you should’ve said yes. So what if someone saw you and Carlos? Since when did you care what the rest of the world thought of you?

You drop your head on the kitchen counter, lightly banging it muttering a quiet ‘stupid, stupid, stupid.’ Oh well, there was nothing you could do about it now.

Your Friday nights always play out the same way. You get home from work, take a quick shower, put on a pair of sweatpants (you’re pretty sure these were a pair of Lando’s from years ago) and a baggy top, order something, and watch a crappy movie.

You have only finished step 3 of your routine, about to start step 4 when there is a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone other than the delivery man but you hadn’t even placed your order yet, so if it was the Chinese place already you really needed to change up your diet.

When you open your door you aren’t greeted by the greasy teenager who typically delivers your food, instead, you are greeted with a comfy-looking Carlos who has a backpack in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other.

“Carlos, what are you doing here?”

“Are you not happy to see me?” He questions with a slight pout.

“Of course, I’m happy to see you,” you reach across the threshold to grab his wrist and pull him into your flat, “I’m just surprised to see you here.”

“I’m here to spend the weekend with my girlfriend and cook her dinner,” he proudly states, holding up the bag of groceries.

You could melt into a puddle right there and then. “Carlos, you didn’t have to come all the way here.”

A look of panic is now written all over Carlos’s face. “I’m an idiot.” You raise an eyebrow at his admission and gesture for him to spit the rest out. “You said you wanted to take things slow and here I am showing up without notice.”

You wave your hands frantically, “You are not an idiot. I’m happy you’re here. Ever since I turned down your offer I’ve been thinking that maybe we don’t have to take things slow.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.”

“I am more than sure. I am sick of overthinking. Who cares what everyone else thinks of me?”

Carlos’s look of panic is replaced by the biggest grin you have ever seen. He drops his backpack and groceries, his hands aren’t empty for long because the next thing you know you are being lifted in his arms and spun around.

“Carlos!” you squeal out, not expecting to be picked up.

Carlos sets you down gently and cups your face in his hands, you are then attacked by an onslaught of kisses. He kisses your cheeks, your lips, nose, and forehead. No part of your face is left untouched by his lips.

You giggle at the sensation, “Carlos, Carlos,” you try to get his attention but he seems too lost in his own world. “Okay. Okay. Calm down, what has gotten into you?”

“I’m just happy. Is that a crime?”

You tap your chin in mock ponderance, “I suppose not.”

Carlos closes the gap once more but this time instead of an onslaught of kisses he locks your lips with his in one long kiss. His hands haven’t moved from their spots on your cheeks this entire time. You can’t help yourself from grinning into the kiss, never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined this.

Carlos pulls away and when he sees the smile that graces your face can’t help but ask, “What has gotten into you?”

You giggle at his question and your reply is full of snark, “I’m just happy. Is that a crime?”

It is Carlos’s turn to break into a fit of giggles and you wish that you could listen to that sound forever. “Okay. Okay.” You try to break the laughing spell that has fallen between the both of you. “What’s in the bag?”

Carlos picks up the bag full of groceries and makes his way to the kitchen, “I’m glad you asked, it's all the ingredients I need to make my pancakes.”

“You were serious about cooking for me?”

“Of course I was, I want to spoil my girlfriend.”

“I will gladly be spoiled. Do you want any help?”

“No, you just sit and find a movie or a show to watch.”

“I got the only show I need right in front of me.” You wink.

Carlos laughs at your comment but doesn’t say anything else, too focused on making his pancakes. You have to help him a couple of times when he realizes he doesn’t exactly know the layout of where you keep all your mixing bowls, pans, and spatulas, amongst other things. But once he has all his materials you can almost see the switch flip to Chef Carlos. And while it is a bit shameful to admit, the sight does turn you on slightly. The way Carlos’s tongue slightly sticks out of his mouth in concentration. The way his arm flexes as he mixes the batter. Who would have thought that cooking would be so hot? Not you, that’s for sure.

Carlos spares a few glances in your direction and every time you need to make sure you aren’t drooling all over your counter. Your time of ogling Carlos is cut short when he slides the plate of pancakes in front of you.

“Any syrup or butter?” He asks.

You shake your head, “No, I want to experience the pancakes without any interference.” You pick up your fork and knife and cut right into them. Carlos does nothing but watch as you bring a piece up to your mouth and take a bit.

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about knowing a pancake recipe,” you say with a full mouth.

“Good?”

“Good? Better than good, these are delicious,” you practically moan out.

“Almost as delicious as the chef,” Carlos says with a smirk. His comment has you choking on the rest of your pancake. Carlos is quick to rush to your side, gently smacking your back.

You hold up your hands signaling for him to stop, “I’m okay, I’m okay.” You take a sip of water, helping aid the rest of the pancake down. “You need to make these for me again. I don’t think I can ever go back to eating a normal pancake ever again. Not after tasting this slice of heaven.”

“You’ll never have to eat a sad pancake ever again as long as I’m around.”

“I want you around as long as you can stand me,” you tell Carlos truthfully.

“Good, because I never want to be without you.”

You can’t help but think the same, and it isn’t because of the pancakes.

February 2022

It’s a week before Valentine's Day when you answer a FaceTime call from Carlos.

“Did you see the car launch?” He asks.

You have given up trying to get him to say hello every time you answered the phone, he was always too eager to talk to you.

“I did. Looks beautiful, hopefully that corresponds to speed.”

“We can only hope. I didn’t call to talk about the car.”

“Well, you could’ve fooled me.”

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

“I am funny, you know this.”

Carlos ignores your quip and instead asks, “Valentine’s Day, do you feel okay going out?”

Ever since that night when Carlos showed up at your flat unannounced, he has been trying to communicate better. The two of you had your little inside dates- movie nights, cooking, board games, anything the two of you could do at home or over the phone you two have done. You had only gone out on a date once and that was over as quick as it started. Some fan spotted him and it was only a matter of time before his location was leaked. You didn’t want to hide your relationship but you also didn’t want it outed by some random F1 update page. You wanted to be the one who shared it with the world.

It took you a moment to think about it and you didn’t want to spend your first Valentine’s Day in your flat. “I would love to go out,” you tell Carlos honestly.

“Good, I made a reservation to this place I think you’ll love.”

You smile having the perfect idea of how to mess with him, “Well what if I said no?”

Carlos doesn’t seem at all phased, “Then I would’ve canceled the reservation.”

You can’t argue with that logic. “What’s the dress code? Because I take it you aren’t going to tell me where we are going.”

“You’ll be correct about that. Dress code,” Carlos pauses for a moment, “Wear something red.”

You roll your eyes, “You are only saying that because you like seeing me in red.”

“It is your color mi amor.”

“Oh so I look bad in all other colors,” you challenge.

“What has gotten into you today? So sassy.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it's because I miss you.”

“I’ll see you in less than a week, mi amor.”

“I know, I know.” You pick at your nails. “I don’t know why, I just miss you more than usual this week.”

“I miss you too,” Carlos admits.

You go to say something but you are interrupted by another voice. “Carlos, Carlos,” a familiar Monégasque driver calls out. “Who are you talking to?”

“My girlfriend,” Carlos replies nonchalantly.

“Ooohhh,” Charles calls out, and before Carlos can react Charles shoves his entire face in front

of the camera, your screen now filled with nothing but Charles.

There were only a handful of people who knew that you and Carlos were together, Charles being one of them. When Carlos left McLaren for Ferrari, he had spilled the beans to Charles and you had learned that Charles was the one who kept pushing Carlos to come see you. So saying you were thankful for the Monégasque driver was quite the understatement.

You giggle at his actions. “Hi, Charles. How are you?”

“I’m doing great, how about yourself?”

“Same old, same old.”

“What are you two talking about?”

“None of your business,” Carlos answers at the same time as you say, “Discussing Valentine’s Day plans.”

“Valentine’s Day plan? What are you two lovebirds doing?”

“Going out,” Carlos answers for you.

“Ooooohhhh can I come with?” Charles asks.

You snort at his question, “Don’t you have your own girlfriend to take out instead of third-wheeling on our night?”

Charles says nothing and just gives you a blank stare, “Fine, be that way.”

You roll your eyes at his childishness, “Don’t be such a baby.”

“You’re younger than me!”

“That makes it worse!” You exclaim.

“Charles, did you need something or did you only come in here to bother us?”

Carlos’s question seems to snap the other Ferrari driver back in focus, “Oh. Yes actually, we aren’t free from our media duties yet.”

“Let me say goodbye then I’ll be back out.”

Charles wishes you a quick goodbye and you are left alone with Carlos. “You have to go?” You ask, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

“The life of a Formula 1 driver never stops.”

“You’d be right about that Hermosa.”

“I’ll let you go, call me if you get the chance.”

“Of course. I’ll see you soon mi amor, don’t miss me too much.”

“I’ll try.”

It’s a week later on Valentine’s Day, and you had spent the majority of the day getting ready for your first real date with Carlos. But along with the butterflies in your stomach, there was also this unwelcome feeling of sadness. At first, you couldn’t place what it was but then it hit you like a truck. Lando didn’t send you any chocolates. You knew that the chances of him sending them were slim but for some reason, it really stung. Every year he sent you a box of chocolates, no matter where in the world he was, no matter what he was busy doing. And every year there was a note “You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms”, well you at least you still had your shitty rom-coms. You were excited for your date but that gloomy feeling was hard to get rid of and you knew that Carlos was bound to notice.

“Wow,” is all that came out of Carlos’s mouth when you answered the door.

“I hope that’s a good wow,” you chuckle nervously. You had done what he asked, you were wearing red, more specifically the signature Ferrari red. While it wasn’t a hard color to match, you hoped that Carlos appreciated the sentiment.

“Of course, mi amor. You look… amazing.” You smile at his lack of words. You don’t need him to tell you anything, you could tell what he’s thinking from his gaze alone.

“Oh, these are for you,” Carlos hands you a bouquet of red roses and baby’s-breath along with a wrapped box of chocolates.

“Thank you Carlos, we can share the chocolates later tonight.” You tell him as you walk back into your flat. Carlos shuts the door behind him and follows you into the kitchen as you rummage around for your good vase.

“We’ll have to leave soon if we want to make the reservation,” Carlos says, checking his watch.

“Alrightly, just let me grab my shoes.” You walk into your bedroom to grab your shoes. On your way you stop in front of the mirror to check your hair and make-up one last time.

When you walk back out you notice Carlos staring at the pictures on your walls. As you move closer you can see the one in particular that he is staring at.

“That’s when Lando and I first declared each other as best friends.” You say with a sad smile. “I don’t really remember it but I do know that we were at my house and my mom snapped the picture.”

Carlos turned to face you but you continued to stare at the picture, jealous of how young and naive the two of you were back then.

Carlos called your name and you were quickly snapped out of memory lane. “Are you okay?” His question laced with concern.

You wave him off, “I’m fine.” Carlos gives you a look almost asking ‘are you sure’ and you are quick to spill your feelings of gloom. “I mean it’s silly and I knew what was going to happen.”

“Knew what was going to happen?”

“Every year Lando has either given or sent me a box of chocolates. At first I knew it was his mom forcing him to give them to me, but as we got older he knew that it was something that cheered me up, especially because I never got anything in school from the other boys. Then he would always include a note, ‘You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms’. Then I didn’t get anything this morning and I knew I wasn’t, but it makes it all more… I don’t know. Real? I guess? It’s stupid, I know I shouldn’t be complaining about not getting chocolates from another man when my insanely handsome boyfriend is standing next to me.”

“Mi amor, I didn’t know he did that. That was sweet of him and I am sorry that he can’t grow up and accept that he isn’t in control of you. Even if he was your best friend you deserve to be loved and not be shunned for doing so.”

You nod in agreement. Every time you feel at peace with the whole situation something like this happens and you are brought back to square one.

“Well let’s get going. I don’t want this ass-hat to ruin anything else for us. Especially not tonight.”

Carlos snorts at your insult and holds out his arm for you to take, you do so happily.

Carlos was nothing but a gentleman the entire time. He opened the car door for you, pulled out and pushed in your chair, and complimented you the entire evening. Sure these were all little things but they meant the world to you. The two of you were in your own little bubble the entire night, everything was so peaceful.

However, it wasn’t until you and Carlos got back to your flat that your little bubble of peace was popped. You were busy finishing your skincare routine when Carlos called out your name. You walked into the living room and were met with the most domestic sight: Carlos sitting on your couch in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt scrolling through his phone. The sight brought a smile to your lips.

“You called?” You asked, making your way over to the couch.

As you take a seat next to Carlos, he hands you his phone and you are greeted with the familiar sight of Twitter. It takes you a second to make out the picture, the two figures in it are quite blurry but as soon as you read the caption attached to it your smile drops into a frown.

‘New WAG alert? Carlos Sainz was seen looking comfortable with a mystery woman at a candle-lit dinner this Valentine’s Day. Will we be seeing more of her?

“Oh.” You aren’t surprised by the lack of privacy and you are well aware that this was bound to happen eventually, you just didn’t think that it would be the first time the two of you went out publicly.

Carlos raises an eyebrow, seeming to have expected more than a one-worded response to the tweet he just showed you and you can’t help but shrug your shoulders in response.

“You’re not upset,” he asks.

“I mean a little, but it's not like I can do anything about it. We knew the risks before we went out and we were willing to take them. Are you upset?”

“I am used to it,” Carlos admits, “It happens to me all the time, I just wished I was given the decency to go out with my girlfriend and have a nice private dinner.”

You cuddle up into Carlos’s side and he is quick to abandon his phone and wrap his arms around you. “I don’t want anything to spoil this evening,” you tell Carlos, “so as long as those are the only pictures out there let's ignore them for now.”

“I can do that. Now what movie do you want to watch?”

“How about 10 Things I Hate About You?”

March 2022

The beginning of the 2022 season was right around the corner and every time you and Carlos talked he was always trying to sneak in a comment about you coming to Bahrain. He thought he was being so subtle with his comments that the look on his face when you asked him if he wanted you to come with him was priceless.

“I thought I was being subtle.” You can hear his frown through the phone.

You try to contain your laughter but the task is easier said than done, “Baby, you were as subtle as a bull in a china shop.”

“But will you?”

Ever since he first started hinting around, you weighed the pros and cons. You loved watching the races, you would be able to spend time with Carlos, you would be exploring a new country. All of these things were nice, but when you thought about the cons, they paled in comparison. If you went to Bahrain then your relationship with Carlos was definitely going to become public knowledge, and while that wasn’t a bad thing you weren’t completely sure if you were ready for the entire world of fangirls to also be a part of your relationship. There was one other thing that was making you hesitate- the idea that you would probably run into Lando.

You couldn’t let that stop you though, so without putting any more negative thought into it, you told Carlos that you would love to go to Bahrain with him.

Walking through the paddock in Ferrari gear felt wrong but right at the same time. Carlos had insisted on providing you with all the possible merch you could imagine. The number 55 displayed proudly across your back, a Ferrari cap snug tightly around your head, a pair of Ferrari sunglasses Carlos had loaned you, and to your surprise a pair of Ferrari socks. You had nearly laughed when you took them out of your little handmade care package, you didn’t even know that Ferrari had socks it wasn’t like anyone was going to see them anyways.

You were hesitant to wear it at first. Most of the other WAGs never wore team gear and when they did it certainly wasn’t to this extent, however, Carlos had put your mind at ease. He did love seeing you in red.

You were well aware of all the cameras and more aware of all the people. Carlos had given you a clear set of directions on where to go and who to ask for so that you would be escorted to Ferrari hospitality without any complications. However, you had guessed Carlos had scrapped that plan and failed to tell you. Because standing right by the entrance to Ferrari hospitality was none other than Carlos himself.

“Find everything okay?” He asked as you reached him.

“I did, but this wasn’t a part of the plan.”

“Well, I had time and saw your message. I wanted to be the first to greet you.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“It’s a welcomed surprise.”

“Come,” Carlos grabs your hand and interlocks it with his, “I want to give you the grand tour.”

Carlos drags you around introducing you to everyone and you can’t help but feel extremely welcomed in your first -official- introduction into the world of Ferrari. Monaco might’ve been the first time but this experience was a much fonder one.

Carlos spends as much time as he can with you, doing his best to make sure you felt welcomed. Eventually, he is forced to do his job and you watch the free practice in the comfort of Ferrari hospitality.

Ever since Valentine’s Day you have avoided social media. Even when you were friends with Lando you never really interacted much with F1 Twitter and even less so now that the two of you weren’t talking. However, due to it being the beginning of the season F1 the sport was trending and out of pure boredom, you decided to brave the tweets. Most of them were predictions about the year, fans cheering on their faves, and even thirst tweets of seeing the drivers back in their cars once again. And who could forget the beloved gossip and update pages? Certainly not you, considering you were looking at your own face on one of the pages.

You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were going to go undetected with Carlos, you were fully expecting it. That however did not lower the shock of seeing yourself on one of these pages. The tweet itself didn’t have many likes or retweets but it wasn’t the only one out there talking about you. And it wasn’t before long until you saw one captioning ‘Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris’s BFF spotted together entering the Ferrari garage’ and below it was a picture of you and Carlos hand in hand. That wasn’t what made your stomach flip, it was what was underneath the photo. Speculation as to why you didn’t have your yearly appearance on Lando’s Instagram.

Of course they were right, there was no need to speculate when that is exactly the reason why, not that you were going to confirm their beliefs. You would have to tell Carlos about all of this on the way back to the hotel. No need to worry him when he should be focusing on the car and the season ahead of him.

The two of you are lying on the bed in your shared hotel room watching some random movie that just happened to be playing when you turned on the TV while waiting for room service. You were snuggled into Carlos’s side, your hand resting on his chest. Carlos has one arm under your head, the other is scrolling through his phone.

When you told him about what you saw on Twitter that afternoon he simply shrugged and said “Let them think whatever they want to think. It’s our relationship, not theirs. We don’t owe anyone anything.”

You still had your concerns that Lando might do something but Carlos insisted while he was dumb, he wasn’t that dumb. But if he was to open his big mouth McLaren and Ferrari’s PR team could handle it. This was nothing to worry about.

You’re half paying attention to the movie and half paying attention to the occasional funny tweet or whatever Carlos is showing you. A knock at the door causes you to shoot out of Carlos’s arms. “I’ll get it!” You call out to Carlos, excited to eat some real sustenance.

You don’t even bother looking through the peephole before whipping open the door, a rookie mistake. Because who stands in front of you is not the room service delivery person with their little cart, no, the person standing in front of you is your ex-best friend.

“Lando?” you ask in shock.

“So I see what’s going around Twitter is true then?”

You cross your arms over your chest, “Excuse you?”

“I just had to see it for myself,” Lando sneers.

Before you can respond Carlos comes up behind you. He’d gotten out of bed at the sound of

Lando’s voice. “What are you doing here?” Carlos questions.

“Oh I just saw some update and WAG pages saying that my best friend was spotted with no one other than the Carlos Sainz and I figured I would come see it with my own two eyes.”

“We aren’t best friends anymore. Remember you told me I was throwing 15 years of friendship away?” You snap back.

“You need to go,” Carlos gently guides you away from the door so that you are now standing behind him. You aren’t going to argue with that. All you wanted was to spend the night with your boyfriend eating room service while watching a crappy movie. You didn’t want to see Lando, let alone have this conversation.

“Is this room 512?” Of course, now the room service shows up.

“Yes,” Carlos answers. The gentleman looks between Carlos and Lando, “Don’t worry about him, he was just leaving.”

You peer around Carlos in time to see Lando stomp off down the hallway back to his own room. The room attendant drops the food off and leaves in a hurry, not that you blame him.

You make your way back to the bed and curl in on yourself, Carlos is quick to follow. “I’m not hungry anymore,” your voice is muffled by one of the pillows. You feel the side of the bed dip behind you as Carlos sits to comfort you.

“I can’t believe he showed up here. What is his problem? Do you want me to go talk to him?”

The idea of Carlos talking to Lando nearly makes you throw up. “No, don’t bother. It’s not worth it.”

“No,” Carlos says harshly, “He comes here, spews a bunch of bullshit and he thinks he can get away with it.” You roll yourself over so you can now look at Carlos. You’ve never seen him so mad, sure you saw him pissed off and frustrated at Monza a few years back but this, this was a whole different type of anger.

“Carlos, as much as I would love for you to give him a piece of your mind, it’s not going to do anything. To him we're the bad guys, no matter how we try to explain ourselves. I’ve made peace with the fact that this is who he is. I think as long as this stays between the three of us and off the track it's best that we just leave it.”

“That still doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he feels like it and start shit.”

“I know, but you’ve said it yourself- he’s childish.” You can see the fight and anger leave Carlos’s body. “Besides, I want all your focus to go into the race. I only kiss boyfriends who end up on the podium.”

“Is that so?” Carlos questions with a sly grin.

Well, it seemed that you owed Carlos a kiss. A Ferrari P1-P2 finish at the first race of the season was a sight to see. The entire garage was in a frenzy as all of them rushed to watch the podium ceremony. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with yourself. You wanted to go watch the ceremony in person but you weren’t sure if that was acceptable, seeing as the rest of the team was more deserving and you were only, well, yourself.

“What are you doing? Let's go! Carlos will want to see you!” James, one of the mechanics that Carlos had introduced you to early in the weekend had seen you standing off to the side looking confused as to where you should go.

“Are you sure?” You asked as he weaved you around his co-workers.

“I’m sure of it! Besides, don’t you want to see your boyfriend up on the podium?”

You really did want to see Carlos on that podium and it definitely had nothing to do with seeing his skin shine with sweat and champagne, nothing at all.

The entire atmosphere was addicting- the fireworks, the roar of applause, the cheering from the team, it was all so addicting and the grin on Carlos’s face was worth being squished in between multiple sweaty bodies.

You could pinpoint the exact moment that Carlos saw you in the crowd and if you thought he was happy before you would consider him ecstatic. After the ceremony, Carlos was quick to make his way down to where you and the rest of his team stood.

Your congratulations died on your lips when Carlos crashed his into yours. Although surprised, you waste no time grabbing the nape of his neck and bringing him closer to you. His skin is sticky with sweat and champagne, not that you mind. His lips are sweet and you can’t help but savor the flavor.

He pulls away and you can’t help but ask, “What was that for?”

“You said you only give kisses to boyfriends who get podiums. I was just collecting my award.”

You roll your eyes, “I’ll kiss you no matter where you end up.”

“Good.” Is all he says before capturing your lips in another kiss. You were well aware of the cameras, the people and their cheers when Carlos kissed you. You could feel the heat rise into your cheeks but you didn’t care. How could you when you had Carlos kissing you? Tomorrow

might be a different story but for now, you were truly living in the moment.

Silverstone 2022

Nearly 4 months had passed since Carlos had kissed you after his podium finish in Bahrain. And it's been nearly 4 months since every social media platform of yours has blown up. It was almost scary how fast your follower count went up. You tried not to look at the comments but your curiosity had gotten to you. While the majority were sweet, there were always those who hated other people's happiness.

It really didn’t bother you, well most of the comments anyways. The ones that cut the deepest were the ones that asked about Lando- Where’s Lando? I wonder what Lando thinks about this? Oh, so you're the reason we don’t have Carlando anymore. She was only using Lando the entire time, I guess the friendship paid off.

Carlos had called you when first brought them up, that conversation was a rough one. He had suggested deleting social media for a time and you had argued back that they really didn’t bother you. You knew that Carlos was concerned for you, it was sweet. But like any 20-something-year old you were addicted to your phone and social media. Carlos had then suggested making a private account, something only your close friends and family could view, that way you could continue your life as an iPad kid.

Silverstone was the second race that you were able to attend of the season. Carlos understood that you couldn’t drop everything and travel the world with him, no matter how much the both of you wished you could. But it nearly broke your heart to tell him that you weren’t able to make it to the Spanish Grand Prix. He told you it was okay but you could still hear the sadness in his voice.

You always sent him a text after every race, no matter the result, and if the timezone allowed you would try and call him. So when your time off got approved for the entire week at Silverstone you couldn’t be happier.

So here you were, your third time at the Silverstone circuit, however, it was your first time being here and not being in the McLaren garage. You felt more comfortable in your Ferrari getup the second time around.

You had high hopes for Carlos during qualifying, the free practice sessions seemed promising. And your hopes were fulfilled when Carlos got pole position for the 2022 Silverstone Grand Prix.

Your emotions were amped up a hundred times the next day when the checkered flag was waved and Carlos crossed the finish line in P1. Emotions were high in the Ferrari garage and you weren’t excluded in feeling them. Carlos had just achieved his first-ever Formula 1 win at Silverstone. Everything seemed to move in a blur, you were whipped away to see Carlos. You didn’t care how sweaty he was, how his hair was sticking out in a hundred different directions, or the indents of his helmet on his cheeks. None of that mattered, all you cared about was Carlos. Celebrations didn’t cease after the podium ceremony. Of course, Carlos was whisked away for a few post-race interviews but everyone was preparing for the night ahead.

You don’t remember the name of the club that you were dragged to and frankly, it didn’t matter. The atmosphere was buzzing, the music was so loud you could feel it in your chest, and the floor was so sticky that you could feel your shoes almost slip off with every step. But you could barely think about any of that when Carlos’s hands were currently around your hips and the two of you were dancing, not very PG-ly, in the middle of the club.

Carlos was handsy when tipsy, you knew that much. His hands were constantly moving up and down your sides, to your hips, to your arms, and even to your neck every time he decided it was time for another kiss.

“Do you need another drink?” Carlos shouts over the music.

You glance down at the empty cup in your hand, “Yes please!”

Carlos grabs your hand and drags you away from the dance floor and towards the bar. You bump into a couple people and while it is bound to happen you can’t stop the quick ‘sorry’s’ that slip through your mouth. No one seems to pay any attention to you basically stepping on their toes, all too wasted to really care.

You stand next to Carlos as he tries to get the bartender's attention. You don’t mind waiting, it’s busy and the poor bartenders are slammed. However, you do mind when someone bumps into you so roughly that you are rammed into the bar counter.

“Sorry!” The person exclaims and you are quick to turn around to see who the hell just ran into you.

The universe must really have it out for you because the voice belonged to none other than Lando Norris, who else? The two of you lock eyes but say nothing. It’s only when Carlos turns around with your drink that Lando lets out a scoff.

“Congratulations Carlos,” Lando says. You don’t have to be a genius to tell that Lando isn’t being genuine.

“Thank you,” Carlos replies dryly.

“That was quite a performance at the podium ceremony,” Lando’s attention is now fully on you, “I never did quite take you for a slut but guess I was wrong.”

Your jaw drops and you are left speechless. Never in a million years did you think that the boy you grew up with would call you such a vile name. Tears well in your eyes, is this truly what he thinks of you?

Carlos slams the drinks on the counter and you can feel the anger roll off of him in waves. “What did you just say?” Carlos growls.

Lando looks taken aback by Carlos’s reaction and you can almost see a flicker of regret flash across his features, however, he doesn’t change his stance reply with a cold, “You heard me.”

“I have had it with your glorified temper tantrums. You need to grow up and get over yourself.” Carlos doesn’t allow Lando to get another word out, he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the bar.

Once the two of you are outside Carlos is pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t listen to him. He’s drunk and an asshole.”

Carlos's words don’t do anything to stop the tears from falling. Sobs rack your body and Carlos can only hold you tighter. Rationally thinking, why did it matter what Lando thought? He wasn’t a part of your relationship. Emotionally thinking, on the other hand, Lando was your best friend for 15 years. The two of you went through almost every milestone together and yet he still called you a slut. It didn’t matter if he was drunk or not.

“Let's go back to the hotel,” Carlos says softly.

You can only nod. You can’t help but feel bad for Carlos, tonight was supposed to be his night. The two of you were supposed to celebrate his win but here you were crying and getting snot all over his shirt.

You had nearly passed out the moment you and Carlos got back to your shared hotel room. The excitement of the day along with the tears had proven all too much. Cuddled up next to Carlos you couldn’t help but feel the need to apologize.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Hermosa?”

“Tonight was supposed to be all about you. We were supposed to have a fun night celebrating and I ruined it.”

“No. The only person who ruined it was Lando. He had no right to say anything.”

“But-”

“I don’t want to hear you apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault. You did nothing.”

“But my reaction-”

“Was a normal reaction to the situation. If he ever says or does anything like that again I won’t hesitate to punch him.”

“Carlos!” you exclaim, “You can’t just do that.”

“Consequences be damned.”

“Carlos,” you say in a warning tone. He says nothing and you shake your head in annoyance.

“We can celebrate properly later, when do you need to be in Austria?”

“In three days, I think.”

“Oh, well when we go back to my flat we can do something before you leave?”

“Sounds perfect mi amor.” Carlos presses a kiss to your temple.

When you talked about celebrating with Carlos at your flat you meant maybe have a few drinks, go out for a nice dinner, or maybe even watch a movie. What you didn’t imagine was straddling Carlos on your couch.

One of your hands was wrapped around Carlos’s neck and the other was tangled in his hair as his lips left warm, wet kisses along your neck. His hands were spread across your back, holding you in place to make sure you didn’t fall backwards off the couch.

“Carlos,” you whine out. The slight scratch of his facial hair mixed with the feeling of his lips were driving you crazy. You were definitely going to need to use some concealer and foundation

on your neck when you got ready tomorrow morning.

Carlos, hearing your whine, had only responded with a “I know Hermosa.”

His hands then found their way to your waist and moved you off of his lap so that your back was now resting against the cushions while he hovered over you. His hands dance along the hem of your shirt and you savor the warmth of his palms.

Carlos nearly has your shirt off of your body when there is a knock at the door. The two of you look at the door and then back at each other and Carlos brings a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. You nod in understanding, hoping that whoever is at the door goes away soon.

The knocking continues and Carlos moves off of you and to the front door. You sigh and sit up, fixing your shirt in the process. You hope whoever is at the front door has a good enough reason for interrupting your and Carlos’s celebration.

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hear Carlos question whoever is at the door.

“Carlos,” you call out, getting up from the couch to make your way out of the living room to see what the commotion is. “Who’s at the door?”

You don’t need Carlos to answer the question because as soon as you are close enough you see a sheepish-looking Lando who is holding a bouquet of flowers.

“Lando, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I came to apologize for my behavior last night.”

Carlos scoffs, “Just last night? You should be apologizing for a lot more than that.”

Lando looks down defeatedly, “You’re right. I should have never acted the way I did. The truth is I was worried about losing my best friend. I’ve always cared about you and I always will care about you.”

It was your turn to scoff, “You didn’t seem to care about me that night in Monaco when you told me I was throwing away 15 years of friendship. You didn’t care when I pleaded with you to understand my feelings. You didn’t care when you basically told me to choose you or Carlos. You say you were worried about losing your ‘best friend,’ but if you were so worried, how come I couldn’t even get a response from you that morning I texted you apologizing for all of it?”

“But I’m here now.”

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t need a half-assed apology. Especially after that night in Bahrain and especially after what you called me last night.”

“What made you think that showing up here, unannounced, was going to do anything?” Carlos asks.

Lando now turns his attention to Carlos, “I wasn’t talking to you. I am here to apologize to her, not you. This isn’t any of your business.” Lando snaps.

Lando has always been a bit of an idiot and clearly, that hasn’t changed in the past year. You rub your eyes. You can feel the stress headache starting to form already.

“Not any of my business,” Carlos repeats, “Are you kidding me? You say it’s none of my business but I think calling my girlfriend a slut is my business. You might be too childish to see it but I care about her. I listen to her when she talks about you and your friendship, when she talks about how she has supported you for all these years, and when she misses you. I won’t have you messing around with her feelings.”

“Lando,” you say gently, “You will always have a special place in my heart. I just can’t get those nasty words that you told me out of my head. It’s one thing to call me a bad friend but calling me a slut? For what? Finding someone I care about, someone who makes me happy? I can’t accept your apology, at least not right now. Maybe someday we’ll be able to be friends again but I think it's time that we admit that we will never have what we once did.”

Lando looks as if he is about to cry and while you feel bad you have to maintain your stance. You can’t have someone like this in your life, it’ll only make it harder.

“I get it,” Lando says, “Just know that I truly am sorry for the way I’ve acted. I hope the two of you are happy, I mean it.”

“Thank you, Lando. I wish you the best."

Lando walks away, head hung in shame. Carlos closes the door softly and just like that the hope you held for you and Lando’s friendship dies out. Maybe it’s for the better, maybe one day the two of you can be friends again. But for now, you’ll focus on the present. You might’ve closed the door on Lando but you have never been happier opening the one for Carlos.

A/N: I just wanted to say again thank you so much for all the support on part one. I was not expecting this to become a 20k+ fic in it's entirety. I was also unsure the entire time whether or not to make Lando and the Reader friends again, so hopefully this is open ended enough for you to decide.

Also please don't forget to like, comment, or reblog. It seriously means the world to me <3

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