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zorostitties · 2 days ago

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Aurora; 5 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 7k

A/N: Hello people!!! I present you the longest chapter up until now. I don't even know how it got to this word count but I had a lot of fun writing it anyway!! OH MY GOD THAT'S A LOT OF NOTES Y'ALL 😭😭😭 THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! This fic is receiving so much love both here and on AO3. I'm getting emotional 🥹🥹 Anyways!! Enjoy <3

⤕ Chapters: check masterlist in bio! ⤕ Also on AO3

Richter’s incessant talking was starting to piss Annette off.

She wasn’t going to tell him, obviously – not because she didn’t have the courage to do it. It was because she knew the reason for her annoyance wasn’t exactly Richter’s voice, nor the voices of the people around her.

It was the spirits’ voices.

They’d been… popping up incessantly ever since that moment at the clearing. Annette was used to seeing spirits to a certain degree; her connection to the other side was part of her powers, part of who she was, after all. She learned to not be afraid of them. She learned to accept her ancestors, to pay attention to their whispers and the messages they carried.

And yet… they’ve never been so restless like that.

Nor so noisy.

And certainly not so clear.

Back in Saint-Domingue, when Annette started to explore her powers, she’d often feel… presences. They caused goosebumps, whispered words in her mind. Sometimes, she’d have strange dreams that carried hidden meanings. When those occurrences became too frequent to be brushed off anymore, Annette opened up to Cécile. Her mentor then explained that it was not only normal, but a privilege; as her abilities blossomed, her ancestors would get closer to her – offering advice, warnings, and even reprimands when necessary.

With time, she started to see figures with the corner of her eyes. Silhouettes in the dark. They never scared her. She knew they were part of her family – just a glimpse of her large family tree, generations of spirits that went all the way to the other side of the ocean, staying beside her even after death… supporting her in her fight for freedom.

Well.

They were starting to scare her now.

Why did they look so angry? Why did they become so clear out of sudden? These weren’t just silhouettes anymore, she could see them as easily as Richter beside her. In fact, some looked so real that they could pass as any other living person; the only indicative that they didn’t belong to this world were the faint transparency of their bodies and the soft glow around them.

And worst of it all – she could not understand a word of what they were saying. Their whispers were unintelligible.

If these really were her ancestors trying to bring a message, why couldn’t they be clear about it?

...Were they even her ancestors? Were they even real? What if she got trapped in an enemy spell, causing her to see illusions?

Annette wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to they them to shut up and leave her alone. Hell – she was all worried about Ruby earlier that day, as the girl seemed so distressed to be in a crowded city, and yet Annette herself wasn’t feeling much better than her at all.

The sensory overload was so bad that she didn’t see a prominent rock on the pavement and tripped on it, almost falling face down in the middle of the street.

Richter caught her in time.

His hand was quick to take her arm in a gentle, yet firm grip. His blue eyes were even rounder than usual. “Oh! Are you okay?”

The action brought Annette back to reality – and also brought back that feeling she was trying hard to ignore.

The girl straightened her position, stepping away from him rapidly. It was stupid how she already felt her cheeks heat up with such a simple touch of his… but it was becoming a frequent occurrence ever since she accidentally held his hand at the clearing, creating a bit of an… awkward situation for them both.

One more embarrassing thing these spirits made her do.

“Yes, thank you,” she brushed it off the best she could before she continued to walk.

If Richter noticed her reaction, he didn’t let it show. The Belmont boy let a tired sight. “I didn’t expect Paris would be this big,” he muttered tiredly. “I thought when he got here, we were practically at our destination. But… we’ve been walking for hours already.”

Annette had to agree. They’d been walking all morning and this Louvre palace was yet to reveal itself. She even wondered if Alucard was sure of where they were going; after all, she was aware that other palaces existed in Paris. What if Louvre wasn’t the correct one?

“You’re not familiar with Paris? I thought you’d been here before,” she asked.

“I’ve only been here once, and I didn’t stay for long,” Richter explained. “I was just taking care of Maria, to be honest. Not exactly safe to let a teenage girl roam a big city alone, you know, and especially not when she’s reaching out for revolutionaries. Maria gets in trouble pretty easily.”

He let a light chuckle, yet his eyes were saddened at the mention of Maria – and it tightened Annette’s heart just a bit. She knew he was carrying a lot of baggage with him this entire mission. The fight with Maria, Tera’s “death”, how he felt he didn’t help her and had to flee… and now the fact that he handed their destination to that damn vampire. The worst part – Alucard got mad at him.

As if she was reading his mind, Richter lifted his eyes and looked at the white-haired vampire’s back, walking many steps ahead of them with Ruby by his side. To be fair, after that moment at the forest, Alucard wasn’t being mean or cold to Richter (well, not colder than he already was, at least). It was very clear in Annette’s eyes how his anger wore off as hours went by. But Annette also knew that this didn’t ease Richter’s regret.

Annette lowered her voice, hoping Alucard wouldn’t hear her.

“You know,” she started quietly. Her tone caught Richter’s attention. “I don’t think he was that angry at you. I think he was angrier at himself for letting Ruby get hurt.”

Richter blinked. He also thought she was reading his mind. He pressed his lips together, lowering his head again.

“And he decided to lash out on me.”

“Well… it’s not like you didn’t give him a reason to.”

Richter pouted. “Aw, come on. I thought you were trying to cheer me up.”

Annette couldn’t help but giggle. “I’m sorry. But what I mean is… don’t dwell on it. Yes, what you did was silly, but to keep thinking about won’t help you.”

The Belmont boy went silent for a few moments. “Ruby told me the same thing.” He lifted his gaze, now looking at the young woman. “Hey, Annette… what do you think of her?”

Instinctively, she looked at Ruby’s back as well.

From the moment she laid eyes on Ruby, she felt immediate empathy. Her constant hesitant, frightened state… it was painfully familiar. Annette still remembered very well the weeks that followed her escape from the plantation. The nightmares, the shivers, the fear of going out, the paranoia. It took a lot for her to realize that she was safe, that no one would ever hurt her anymore. It took even longer for her to learn how to voice her opinions, to understand that she mattered to the people around her, and they mattered for her, too.

And that’s precisely what helped Annette overcome her struggles. She had something to fight for. A cause she would never give up on. Genuine friends around her. Warriors in arms, family in hearts.

She had Edouard.

The mere mention of his name in her mind was enough to make her want to cry again.

Edouard was who helped her during her darkest times. He was still the reason why she was fighting, why she crossed the ocean, why she would do anything in her power to defeat Sekhmet.

And that was precisely what made Ruby’s situation difficult. She… didn’t have a family – not one she remembered, at least. She didn’t have a past, something to hold onto. Someone that would give her motivation to keep fighting until the end of her forces, until the last drop of sweat. With such an amount of trauma (although Annette didn’t know exactly what she went through in Erzsebet’s hands, it certainly wasn’t easy), it is important to have a reason to stay alive.

Or someone.

Annette’s deceased mother was her primary reason. Then Edouard, Cécile, the Maroons… until she realized that by fighting for them, she was fighting for herself, too.

And… perhaps… perhaps she had a new reason to keep fighting now. A reason she met recently, but that made her feel things that she never felt before. A… sweet, funny, a little silly reason – but strong and determined nevertheless.

“I think she’s being honest,” Annette finally answered Richter’s question. “And… I don’t like to feel sorry for people, but I feel sorry for her. I hope she finds her reason soon.”

Richter frowned, clearly not understanding what she meant by “her reason”, but Annette didn’t feel like elaborating on that.

“The only thing I’m suspicious of is this… healing thing of hers,” Richter said in a quiet tone. “I don’t think anyone can acquire this in a good way.”

Annette had to agree with that. Alucard might be right in his words – maybe the Ruby from the past, the real Ruby, was not the innocent person she seemed to be…

A harsh whisper in her right ear made Annette gasp.

Oh no. Not again. They had stopped for some moments, but then started whispering again. That was more of a hiss, in fact – rushed, anxious, trying to catch her attention.

The spirits trembled. Annette noticed that the crowd around her – the crowd of real people – seemed to be walking in the same direction; they wore apprehensive, even angry expressions on their faces. They were almost as hectic as the spirits.

“Is Paris always like this? I can feel the tension,” Annette muttered more to herself than to Richter. She looked around; there were spirits behind them, to the sides, in front–

Wait, in front–

Her eyes passed rapidly by Alucard and Ruby. They had stopped walking for some reason, but that’s not what caught her attention.

She… she saw a strange glow in Ruby.

It didn’t surround her body like it did with the spirits. It was a… point. Faint, eerie; the tiny point glowed on the left side of her back, almost transparent… like the flame of a candle.

It glowed in the same place as her heart.

Annette tightened her eyes. What was that? Did anyone put a spell on her? Was an enemy nearby? No one else had a glow like that – no one alive, at least. She was about to reach for Ruby’s arm, scared for her safety–

But then, the sound of drums echoed through the streets.

The spirits vanished – just as the strange flame in Ruby’s heart.

Annette blinked repeatedly. Did she… see things?

Alucard looked behind his back to the two of them, now that they had reached their position.

“Something’s about to happen,” he said eerily.

The crowd kept walking. Now, Annette could see that there was a great square ahead of them. It couldn’t be a good thing; she felt a strange sensation in her gut, an apprehension that she could not understand.

She wanted to ask if Ruby was alright – if she felt anything – but decided that was not the time. The group followed the rest of the crowd.

That left a question mark in the back of Annette’s mind. What was that thing she saw in Ruby’s heart?

But then, the King of France was executed, Annette saw the three headed spirit that almost made her have a heart attack – and nothing else mattered after that.

You felt sorry for him.

Of course – you heard the conversation between Richter, Annette and Alucard. They understood the situation much better than you and even had divergent opinions. He wasn’t a particularly bad King, Richter said, while Annette stated that no one can reign innocently. On your understandings, both of them were right to some degree.

And yet, when “Louis The Last” stepped on the platform and knelt in front of the guillotine, you didn’t see the King. You saw a frightened man in the face of death.

Watching normal humans die wasn’t easy; you never got used to it. It was always horrible whenever you’d see one of Erzsebet’s preys let their dying breath, their last gag. It was almost as if you could see their lives slipping away, their bodies becoming empty. And yet, when you realized that they’d finally stopped moving, you felt… relief for them. Because at least, they weren’t in pain anymore. Whenever you saw a human victim be dragged into the hall, you’d silently hope for a quick death upon them. Things didn’t always go that way. You hated when they didn’t.

The square was uncomfortably crowded, but Alucard was right – you were getting used to it, although you were still hoping to leave that place as soon as possible. Angry whispers, shouts, loud discussions... they were energetic.

The conversation of a particular couple close to you caught your attention.

“I don’t think I can look at it,” the woman said with a visible scowl of disgust. The man, still facing the platform, made her hide her face on the curve of his neck.

“It’s okay, darling. You don’t have to.”

You frowned.

She was wrong. He was wrong.

You shouldn’t look away when a man is about to die. It’s dishonorable.

You watched in solemn silence when the sharp blade of the guillotine went down on the man’s neck, beheading him. Blood splashed on the platform. The head rolled one, two, three, four times. A perpetually horrified expression. The crowd cheered in satisfied anger. They felt avenged.

Only then did you close your eyes for a moment. A quick death is a luxury not many have, you thought.

“Annette? Are you alright?”

You opened your eyes and turned around to see Richter calling the girl in yellow. Annette had her back facing you, yet you could see her heavy breathing, which immediately sparked some worry. Was she feeling unwell?

“...Yes,” Annette’s voice almost disappeared within the crowd’s roar. She sounded hesitant and scared. It was the first time she looked even remotely scared.

Alucard was quietly watching her, too, from over his shoulder. Then, he sent you a meaningful glance, pointing with his head a way out of the crowd. He didn’t wait for any of you to follow him.

“Let’s go,” you said, calling Richter and Annette’s attention. She looked more than happy to leave the place, while Richter kept sending her worried glances.

There was no time to ask if she was okay or not. The crowd seemed to be getting even more heated. They shouted, raised their fists in the air, clapped their hands – and it only got worse when one of the guards took the deceased King’s head and put it on a spike, lifting it up for the audience. The crowd started to push each other to try to get a closer look.

That was when the confusion started.

You saw people falling. Children crying. Guards shouting, trying to get control of the situation with no avail. You were pushed, almost smashed in the middle of hundreds of bodies, to a point were your feet were merely following the flow of the crowd, having no control of where you were going.

“There are ladies here, you savage animals!” One woman groaned.

“Stop pushing!” Someone else said.

“Rot in hell, Louis!”

“I want to see the head!”

“Ouch- my foot!”

“Vive la Révolution!”

You desperately tried to make your way out – and there was no way out without pushing people, which only made the situation worse. You looked around, trying to see Richter or Annette; the Belmont boy was quite tall, so it was easy to spot him many rows of people away from you, also being smashed. He sent you a worried gaze and tried to yell something, but you couldn’t hear anything over the incessant shouting. You tried to approach him, but that was like trying to swim against the flow of a river.

Richter tried to shout something again. He managed to lift his hand and point at something to your right side. You supposed he was trying to show you a way out of the crowd.

You turned your head in that direction in time to see Alucard approaching with a deeply annoyed frown.

He caught you by the arm and pressed your body on his, keeping a firm arm around you while the other quite unceremoniously pushed people out of the way. He didn’t let himself be carried by the flow, keeping a solid and consistent pace. Alucard was like a rock in the middle of these people, literally. No one could push him even if they tried (and they tried). He didn’t lose balance.

He was visibly pissed.

And even so, the thing your brain most noticed was that he… had a good smell.

It wasn’t exactly your fault; Alucard was pressing you against his chest after all. And… you tried to remember that method – if you could call it that – that Alucard himself taught you a few hours ago. When your mind was distressed, about to spiral, too overwhelmed… focus on a single thing, a simple thing, to try and muffle everything else.

So you focused on his smell.

It was… sweet. Like spices. It even reminded you a bit of cocoa. And refreshing, maybe a bit citric, like orange.

It… reminded you a bit of the natural smell a baby has after taking a bath.

Vampires have a very specific smell you learned to hate over time. It’s nauseously sweet, like burnt sugar. Add this to unnecessary puffs of perfume – Erzsebet loved floral fragrances – and their absolutely horrible breath that no amount of chewing peppermint could mask.

You shouldn’t be surprised that even though Alucard was half-vampire, he was still starkly different than all the others you’d met, even in the tiniest details. But it surprised you anyway.

Finally, he managed to push his way out of the crowd into a nearby, emptier street, releasing his grip around you. You stepped aside, cleaning the sweat on your forehead with the back of your hand.

“That was… intense,” you managed to speak breathlessly, looking back at the still growing mess. “Thank you.”

Alucard sighed heavily. “We should’ve left sooner,” he muttered dryly, more to himself than to you. “I should’ve figured a commotion like this would happen.” He looked at the crowd for a few more moments before his eyes fell on your figure, the frown on his forehead untying. “How are you feeling?”

You widened your eyes slightly. Sure, he was just being thoughtful, but you figured he was asking that after your… history of panics involving crowds (or even smaller things).

“Oh! I’m totally fine. Thank you,” you tried to sound cheerful. Alucard nodded.

It seemed that all you could tell him was thank you over and over again – and it was starting to annoy you. Not only because a tiny (maybe not so tiny) part of you wanted to have more meaningful conversations with him like the one earlier that day, but because you didn’t want to worry anyone anymore. You wanted to be more useful to the group. But how could you be useful if the group consisted of excellent fighters, experts in magic, and you were just an “ordinary” human? Your healing was only useful to yourself, not to them.

Alucard looked back at the crowd and raised his arm. Following his gaze, you saw Richter and Annette pop out of the mass of people, similarly breathless as you. This at least brought you some comfort. Alucard was the only one to show no sign of tiredness.

The Belmont boy rested his hands over his knees, breathing heavily, when they reached your position. “...I hope that was the only beheading scheduled for today,” he joked tiredly.

Annette didn’t chuckle this time. Worry still clouded her eyes. “Are we close now, Alucard?”

The man nodded. “Only a few blocks away from here. Let’s go.”

He kept marching ahead, not giving any of you a chance to recover.

The Louvre was scarily big.

Bigger than the chateau, bigger than Erzsebet’s palace, bigger than… well, any building you’d ever seen.

The gigantic front garden of the palace was eerily empty, with only a few people walking here and there; most of the population was concentrated on the central square to watch the execution of the King, which would grant you some advantage (and tranquility) to look for Sekhmet’s mummy. You approached the palace a little after the midday sun, its light reflecting on the decorative pools of the garden, the wind softly swaying the trees.

“The monarchies of Europe will be horrified. Already, some of them are waging war on France. They’ll be joined by the rest. The Vampire Messiah plans to lead them, commander and chief of the counterrevolution,” Alucard explained while you walked.

Oh. And just like that, everything made sense. Erzsebet’s reason to be on France, their talks about “crushing a revolution”… Indeed, if she succeeded, she’d be considered the Queen she always aimed to be. One that could unite an entire continent regardless of public opinion, as she sided with the oligarchies which possessed the most power. Vampire oligarchies.

“And just this street rabble to resist her,” Richter said somberly. “Who won’t stand a chance, will they?”

“No.”

A shiver ran down your spine. You didn’t have enough information to understand if the current kings and queens were bad to their people. Judging by the execution witnessed earlier and the reaction it caused… you could assume they weren’t doing a great job. To have a sadistic vampire sitting on a throne, ruling over millions of innocent lives… it would be even worse. Erszebet saw humans as less than insects, barely livestock, and her court thought the same. Soon, she’d be ruling over an empire of corpses.

You looked over your shoulder to Richter and Annette, who had suddenly stopped walking and were a few steps away. They were being too quiet for you to hear them. Richter still looked worried, while Annette seemed distressed.

You looked ahead again. “There’s something wrong with Annette,” you said quietly. Alucard hummed.

“I noticed.” He also kept the quiet tone. “However, we can’t help her if she doesn’t say what’s the problem.”

Alucard was already preventing you from getting stressed. You nodded. “...I hope it’s nothing serious.”

Finally, you reached the doors of the palace. Two guards protected the entrance. After a quick chat, they let you in. Apparently, the palace was public domain now, so it didn’t take a lot of convincing.

Opposing to its empty exterior, the large halls of the Louvre were filled with people – men and women, working on organization and cleaning. All of them wore some sort of hat in the colors of the French flag; members of the Revolution.

“A single family lived here?” you muttered to yourself, letting your gaze wander through the place. The high vaulted ceilings, the tall windows, red columns, golden arabesques, the glass skylights; it was bathed in natural lighting. Not to mention the many pieces of art – statues, paintings, some of the frames towering three times bigger than a person; the intricate carpets, the chandeliers… with each corner you turned (the palace seemed to be an endless labyrinth) you grew more and more speechless.

“No, the royal family lived somewhere else. It was still their property, though,” Richter explained. “And to think the people were dying of hunger and plague while the royal family had all this,” he said bitterly. “It really makes you agree with the revolutionaries.”

You had to admit that it was hard to focus on the task at hand being surrounded by so much art. Erzsebet’s palace was beautiful, of course, but devoid of any personality. It was… beauty for the sake of beauty, mostly. But at the Louvre, you saw sculptures and paintings that looked genuinely ancient; hundreds of years of history, the works of multiple hands, stories being told. It definitely should not be at the hands of a few people only.

A certain half opened door caught your eye. There seemed to be a big statue there that glowed faintly under the sunlight. You narrowed your eyes, trying to see better��

“Oh! Leonardo!”

Alucard’s voice completely caught your attention.

You snapped your head at him. The nonchalance in his expression was completely gone, being replaced by… longing?

He turned to you three with a bit of excitement he hadn’t shown up until that moment. “It’s a painting by Leonardo da Vinci, of a woman he actually couldn’t abide. Or so he told me,” he explained, pointing with his head towards a particular frame. A woman of straight brown hair and dark clothing posed in the painting with a vague expression, her arms crossed over her lap. Alucard closed his eyes for a moment, chuckling, and opened a tender smile. Then, he side eyed you as if telling a secret: “I never really thought it was one of his best.”

Then, he kept on walking as if nothing happened.

...You were pretty sure that you, Richter and Annette were all blushing at that moment.

Alucard never sounded so excited before. Never so lighthearted. And he looked… cute? Adorable, in fact. It made him look very young.

...You’d like to know this side of him a little bit better.

“Is there any order to this? Or do you just… put things anywhere?” Alucard asked one of the men in uniform.

“We’re looking for Ancient Egyptian,” Richter added.

The man pointed ahead. “Go straight, then turn to your left at the end of the corridor. First door.”

You followed his directions after Richter muttered a thank you. Alucard picked up his pace and all of you followed. Now that you had some guidance, it seemed that apprehension weighed over the atmosphere. The room mentioned by the man was empty – if you could call that a room, that is, as it was bigger than some houses. A gallery, in fact.

Wooden crates of different sizes were scattered here and there. Some sculptures were protected by boxes made of glass. Sunlight embraced the entire room through the tall windows. At the far end of the gallery, there were four columns that seemed to imitate palm trees; they had colorful paintings and ancient writings around them.

A shiver ran down your spine. A memory from not long ago – or was it long ago? – was brought forward in your mind. An obelisk with writings similar to those in the columns… the same art styles, the same periods. It would be brought whenever Erzsebet summoned an eclipse… or when Erzsebet summoned Sekhmet. The vampire’s very appearance would change, taking an animalistic look similar to a lioness. Whenever Erzsebet did that, you’d be genuinely frightened, even more than usual. That wasn’t simply the strength of a vampire anymore. It was much more ancient, much stronger, a much denser type of magic… the type that shouldn’t be messed with thoughtlessly, the type that demanded respect upon its use. Erzsebet had no respect for it. Maybe that’s why it was always so horrendous to witness.

“Hm… so we’re looking for a corpse…” Richter muttered, looking around.

“It’s here. I’m sure of it,” Alucard said as he inspected one of the wooden crates.

You thought of searching for it too, but you didn’t want to touch anything. You couldn’t tell exactly why. Was it because of your bad memories associated with anything Egyptian? Or was it something else?

“Show me.”

The three of you turned to Annette at the same time.

“What?” Richter asked.

The girl had an apprehensive expression as she stared at… nothing in particular. She visibly hesitated before speaking.

“There are spirits here. Many spirits,” she confessed quietly. You widened your eyes. Richter instinctively looked around. “They’ve been following us. Following me.” She inhaled, as if building up courage. “Show me.”

You looked around as well and saw, well… nothing. But Annette was following something with her gaze with much attention. Richter approached her.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Because I don’t know what they want,” for the first time, Annette showed a glimpse of her real distress over the situation. That’s what had been bothering her since the execution… she was sweating. “Or if they’re real.”

“Do they speak to you?” Alucard asked in a serious tone.

“Yes, but I… can’t understand what they’re whispering,” she narrowed her eyes. “Sometimes they seem angry. There are spirits here now who just seem lost.” She looked at Richter. Annette seemed even more fragile than when you talked to her at the forest, which took you by surprise. “...Or is it me that’s lost?”

Richter pressed his lips together, not taking his eyes off her for a second. He rested a reassuring hand on her back, not saying a word – and it seemed enough to calm her down, even if just a bit.

It even felt that you were interrupting something for a second. And yet, you couldn’t look away. They… seemed to share something very intimate. Very beautiful.

Your chest tightened.

“What’s happening with them now?” Alucard asked quietly, looking around. “Could they be trying to tell you something?”

Annette looked ahead and went silent for some seconds. Then, she pointed in the direction she was looking.

“There.”

The group approached a particular wooden crate sitting at the very end of the gallery, near the columns. Alucard knelt down in front of it and lifted its lid.

And there it was.

A mummy, with its arms crossed over their chest, completely bandaged in red linen, laying over a bed of straw. It had the silhouette of a woman.

“It stinks,” Richter complained, pinching his nose.

Annette narrowed her eyes. “It’s her. It’s Sekhmet,” she confirmed with certainty.

Alucard got up again. All of you watched the mummy for some seconds; it seemed you shared the weight of responsibility that thing represented.

“So, what do we do now?” Richter spoke up first, scratching the back of his head. “I could burn it, or we could just… hack it to pieces and scatter it to the winds.”

“What you do now is give her to me.”

In that moment – time was frozen.

Air left your lungs. Your eyes widened. Every nerve tensed up. Violent goosebumps roamed your entire body.

You turned around. You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to face the owner of that voice. You wanted to believe it was just your mind playing tricks, that there was nothing actually happening. Because there was no way it was her.

Drolta is dead, Alucard said. He confirmed it. He said he was sure.

But you turned around anyway – and what you saw made your heart drop.

That thing couldn’t be Drolta. There was no way. It had a female body, its leathery skin a mix of black and greyish pink. Instead of feet, it had hooves that made it tower over any human. Its wings were leathery as well, similar to a bat’s; its claws seemed to be made of iron, just like the tip of its long tail. Twisted horns sat at the top of its head.

The thing focused its eyes on you and opened a cruel smile.

No.

No no no no no no no.

That thing couldn’t be Drolta. No, there was no way. But you stared back at her, you scanned her facial features, and these were the same eyes. Most of her original form was gone – it had little resemblance to the attractive woman she once was – but the eyes. The cruelty in those eyes. They remained the same.

It was Drolta.

“Yes, Alucard. You killed me,” she said in the same sultry voice you were so disgustingly used to. “And you stole something very precious from me, too.” Her gaze locked on you again. Her smirk turned to an evil grin. “You little runaway rat… it’s time to return home.”

She was twirling something around her pointer finger. The thing she twirled… it gleamed under the sunlight.

You gasped.

It was the ruby necklace.

You had time to see her extend her great wings, ready to launch. A part of your brain registered that she was accompanied by three other winged creatures, but they seemed blurred. All you could do was stare at her. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t do anything.

She attacked.

Alucard jumped at the same time, his body enveloped by the familiar red glow. They clashed mid-air.

And then, Richter’s back blocked your vision.

“Stay behind me!” He yelled, snapping his whip in the air, as the three other creatures launched together.

Annette threw one of her newly created blades in the air as if it was a boomerang to no avail, as it didn’t hit any of the creatures. One of them – it was red, its head was what looked like the skull of a wolf – spat a ball of pure fire in your direction. Seeing there would be no time to grab you, Richter pushed you out of the way roughly, sending you a few meters back; your back hit the wall, causing air to leave your lungs.

The Belmont boy knelt down; his palm touched the ground in your direction. With a grunt of effort, he lifted his hand – and at the same pace, a wall of ice rose around you, enclosing you like an igloo.

The outside noises were muffled for some seconds.

You stayed there, sitting on the floor, unable to move; your entire body trembled, and it had nothing to do with the ice around you. Sweat dripped down your temples. Your breath came difficult, it seemed that the air was burning your throat and your lungs; your vision was blurred.

Drolta is alive Drolta is alive Drolta is alive was all that your mind repeated, yelled at you; Drolta is alive and she came after me, Drolta is worse than she was before, Drolta is going to kill Richter and Annette and Alucard–

Richter and Annette and Alucard–

They were all fighting.

Richter snapped his whip around violently, embedding it in blue flames. When one of his attacks hit, the creature – a black one, with a more humanoid figure – screamed in pain; he jumped, twirled in the air, protected his arm with a layer of ice when one of its attacks was about to hit. He tumbled back to avoid being hit by another gush of fire by the skull-headed night creature.

Annette fought a three-headed beast similar to a dragon; she controlled many pieces of iron around the gallery, aiming them at it. Some hits were successful. She jumped from crate to crate, avoiding the bites as all the three heads tried to catch her in different directions at the same moment.

And Alucard kept Drolta completely focused on him, maintaining the fight in the air, near the ceiling. It seemed that the sword barely made any damage against her leathery skin, and yet he kept attacking and tanking her attacks. You watched with horror as her hair (well, what was supposed to be hair; that thing wasn’t hair anymore) extended themselves like snakes, pursuing him around the gallery, causing great destruction were it hit.

The three of them were fighting. And you understood with great remorse that their objective was to keep the creatures so occupied that they wouldn’t be able to reach you or the mummy.

You were not only completely useless – you were getting in the way.

They couldn’t fight freely with you around.

You gulped, trying to stop panting, but you couldn’t. No no no, not this now. You don’t have time for this. You don’t have time! Why was your body playing tricks on you again? Why couldn’t it function when you needed the most? You needed to get out of there. Fuck, you needed to do something, anything! And still — your body wouldn’t obey.

Focus on a single thing, a simple thing, to try and muffle everything else.

Alucard’s method.

A single thing.

You looked around the small area inside the “igloo”.

Spotted a nail – probably used to lock the lid of the crates.

A simple thing.

With all your might, you forced your shaking arm to move; forced it to stretch, to reach for the nail, to hold it tightly.

Focus on a single thing, a simple thing.

With a grunt of effort, you pierced your own palm with the nail. The sharp pain awakened you from your numb state.

Right on time.

The black creature found an opening in Richter’s incessant attacks and launched itself towards you. The igloo melted. You rolled away from it and got up in a jump.

Annette immediately glued to your side. She was panting, holding blades in both hands; Richter threw a gush of blue flames, trying to keep the beasts away. You couldn’t see Alucard or Drolta behind the wall of fire. However, it wasn’t enough; the three night creatures were about to surround you. You’d have no escape.

Annette seemed to be reading your mind.

She let go of the blades for a second. She gesticulated with her hands as if grabbing something in the air; the wall beside you cracked. Annette “pulled” the air and let a scream of effort. Obeying her command, the wall teared apart, creating a hole towards the corridor – big enough for someone to pass through.

“Run, Ruby! Run!” Annette yelled.

And you obeyed.

You jumped through the hole and sprinted down the corridor, the pain in your palm completely forgotten. The ground was shaking, chandeliers tinkling, dust fell over your head. The sounds of the fight were slowly replaced by screams of fear and many steps. Of course, the palace was packed with workers. Some of them were running towards the Egyptian gallery, being attracted by the loud noises, but stopped running when they saw you.

“Get out of here! Your weapons won’t work!” You shouted without slowing your pace, gesticulating vehemently. “Get out, all of you! Right now!”

Luckily, you didn’t need to repeat yourself; the people in the hall started to run towards the exit.

You turned the corner, desperately trying to find an escape plan. You thought of running outside into the sunlight, but these things weren’t vampires; the sun wouldn’t protect you. You could try to mix with the crowd of people running out of the palace, but it would definitely put them all in danger. You could hide – but was there any safe place? These night creatures weren’t the same as the weak vampires you’ve encountered on your way to Paris. They were actually dangerous, even to your powerful allies.

Your thoughts were cut off when you heard a shrilling growl out there.

A gasp escaped past your lips. It was the three-headed beast – it was flying out there, soaring near the windows… scoping the area after you.

You entered the first room you saw.

You banged the double doors of the gallery. It was much smaller than the Egyptian one, yet the windows were equally large. You rushed to untie the heavy curtains and cover them, immersing the room in darkness; only a peek of light was visible through one of the windows. Shit shit shit shit you needed to barricade the door. You pushed a heavy crate with your back, positioning it against the door, yet you knew it wasn’t nearly enough; you needed to put something between the handles to truly lock it.

It was too dark now. You searched through the wooden boxes with shaking fingers, trying to find any artifact that could do the job; a steel bar, a vase thin enough, anything. The floor was still shaking incessantly. Please, let them be safe, you prayed silently to whoever was hearing; please, let them be safe.

You knelt in front of the final crate and lifted its lid. There were a couple of artifacts there, all so rusty and old that you could barely recognize what they were. A sword, a helmet, what looked like the remains of a broken shield, and… oh! A spear!

Or at least, it resembled a spear. It was completely covered in rust; thin, shorter than an actual spear, and it didn’t have a blade on the tip, but some sort of… rusty circle. Again, it was too dark to understand what that thing was, but it would do the job.

And yet – you hesitated to hold it.

Your fingers hovered over the object with hesitancy.

Suddenly… you weren’t hearing the outside noises anymore. They were distant. All you heard was your thundering heartbeat, your panting.

Your hand tingled. It had nothing to do with the injury you inflicted in yourself. The “spear” seemed to radiate some sort of warmth; you could feel it even some centimeters away. It made your stomach drop in a funny way. It wasn’t the fear or the adrenaline; it felt different.

Finally, you gulped and grabbed the object.

It was, indeed, hot. But that’s not what made your eyes widen.

As soon as you held it, the “spear” started to glow. No, it started to shine.

You watched as the rust around the object dissipated like dust. It shone so brightly that you had to close your eyes; it was so hot that you felt that your palm was about to burn. But then, after a few seconds, it stopped.

You opened your eyes again gasped.

You weren’t holding a rusty “spear” anymore. That wasn’t a spear; it was a scepter.

You got up from the ground slowly. The scepter was almost as tall as you were, made of solid gold. At its tip, the rusty “circle” was gone, being replaced by a small “plate” with twelve curvy “spikes” circling it in regular intervals; an unmistakable representation of the sun. Tiny inscriptions were engraved across its entirety. You brought it closer to your eyes, trying to understand what they meant since it was still dark inside the room – and when you recognized them, you almost dropped the object on the floor.

The writings were on the same strange language from the moon book Erzsebet made you read. You recognized the characters.

What the hell was that?!

The sound of an explosion so loud out there that made the floor shake yanked you out of your own head.

Fuck. I still need to lock the door, you remembered, rushing towards it with the scepter in hand. You were still shaking, clumsily trying to barricade the hangs with the long object–

A window crashed.

You screamed in horror. Glass flew everywhere, part of the wall was destroyed, the curtain was ripped off. You turned around to see the three-headed beast enter the gallery, groaning and hissing, as Annette gripped one of its necks for dear life.

She finally released the night creature before one of the heads could chop her, landing on her feet and putting herself between you and the thing. She was visibly tired, yet her eyes were ferocious. You noticed that the creature had lost its middle head, probably the reason for it to be so aggressive.

Annette growled. She controlled iron objects around her, launching them all at the creature; it flapped its wings violently to avoid being hit, destroying crates and artifacts around it. The creature ran towards Annette. She pushed you out of the way.

“Ruby, you need to–“ she jumped, avoiding a hit. “You need–“ she managed to cut the thing’s leg, skipping out of danger’s line before it could strike. “You need to go!”

There was no way to run through the broken window – to reach it, you’d have to come across the night creature. The doors were the only escape – and they were fucking barricaded by the crate you put there previously. You groaned, putting all of your strength into pushing it away, the scepter completely forgotten on the floor. You needed to run, you needed to run, you needed to–

Your eyes were glued in Annette.

Like what happened at the forest, it seemed that the world was moving in slow motion again.

You saw as Annette twirled mid-air above the beast; with one hand, she controlled one of her blades to pierce the creature’s left skull, but it was unsuccessful; the thing caught the blade with its teeth. Her landing trajectory was at the right side of the same head. She already held another blade firmly with both hands.

Annette landed graciously. With a groan of effort, she sliced its left head, beheading it.

But the right head was still there. The right head already had its jaws open wide. Annette was stuck between the remaining head and the neck of the one she had just beheaded. There was no escape route. She would not have time to react.

You saw all that unfold in front of your eyes and got to the obvious conclusion: Annette was going to die.

So you moved.

You sprinted from the place you were on the floor. You didn’t wait until the world would start moving fast again. You didn’t wait for Annette to realize what you were about to do.

You put yourself between her and the monster.

Its jaws tightened around the entire right side of your body – and when the world started moving at its normal speed again, all that existed was pain.

#alucard x reader #castlevania alucard #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #alucard x you #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes #alucard tepes #castlevania x reader

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cosmicmunsonwrites · 2 days ago

Text

wanna kiss his face with an uppercut

mean!rafe cameron x desperate!fem!reader

cw — rafe is back to being a softie, talks of explicit picture

summary — rafe wants to know why you’ve been ignoring him.

authors note — this can be read as a standalone but is a continuation of that recent part in my mean!rafe series. it can be found in my rafe cameron masterlist under au’s. olease request more!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

“you’ve been ignoring me,” he mumbled, sitting all tense on the sofa across from you in the living room of your house. “i’ve called and texted hundreds of times and you jus’ haven’t returned any of ‘em.”

you just shrugged and tucked yourself further into your blanket. “been busy. haven’t had the chance,” you replied bluntly. it wasn’t necessarily a lie. the only thing you were busy with though was sleeping and thinking about your relationship and whether or not it was worth the pain.

he looked slightly taken back. “busy with what? you don’t leave the house. your car hasn’t even moved.” if you didn’t hear the slight whine in his voice, you would’ve though he meant it in an aggressive manner. instead, he sounded genuinely curious.

“i have stuff to do around the house, schoolwork, i have to car for kiwi,” you listed. college was hard and even harder with a relationship. and your dog kiwi wasn’t exactly low maintenance. she needed a walk everyday, special meals for her specific diet, and pampering.

he leaned back in his seat and spread his legs to get comfortable while crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at you. “why didn’t you ask for my help? you know kiwi loves me. i coulda helped out with her or helped with the house. y’know i have before, right?”

you simply shrugged again. “i can handle myself,” you said dismissively.

“yeah, i know you can but you don’t need to. y’know i’m always here,” he said as if it were obvious. “did i do somethin’ wrong? why are you suddenly bein’ so cold with me outta nowhere?”

you rolled your eyes and huffed out a laugh of frustration. “are you fucking kidding me rafe? ‘did i do something wrong?’ you know exactly what you did,” you snapped sharply at him. “what do you think of me? because you clearly don’t respect me.”

a crease formed between his eyebrows as he stared at you. “what?” his voice was much smaller now. maybe it was the fact that yours was louder and he’d never heard you raise your voice, especially at him.

“don’t act all stupid with me. you don’t get to just go around showing your friends vulnerable pictures of me and basically tell them that i’m so easy and i just do whatever the fuck you say,” you spat. “i’m not your bitch and i’m sure as hell not someone you’re gonna boss around and walk all over. that little comment about me begging for a chance? seriously? i didn’t know you saw our relationship as a power play for you.”

you could see tears forming in his eyes. you’d never seen him get this upset over something. “baby, i didn’t—i didn’t think—“ he began to stutter over his words before just stopping all together.

“i have too much respect for myself to let someone talk to me like that,” you said, your voice much quieter now but still nowhere near gentle. you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose to try to relieve the pressure forming into a headache. “i don’t know if we should do this anymore, rafe.”

his head immediately snapped up as his teary gaze met yours and his wet cheeks glistened under the light. “no. no, don’t do that. please baby, don’t say that,” he pleaded desperately. he stood from his seat and took eager strides to where you were sitting. he kneeled down in front of you and gently took your hands in his own. “please jus’ work this out with me, angel. i don’t wanna lose you. i can’t. i’ll do whatever it takes, jus’ don’t leave me.”

you bit your lip and shook your head. “i can’t keep letting myself get disrespected. what you said—what you did, was absolutely insane. i would’ve never in my entire life thought to say that to someone, let alone someone i love. that was just cruel and it hurt my feelings. you didn’t even acknowledge that.”

“please angel, jus’ one more shot, okay?” he reasoned softly, fresh tears falling. he’d never had someone confront him like this besides his dad. “i’m sorry for bein’ so mean the other day. i know i was rude and all but i was havin’ a bad day and that’s not an excuse but you know its hard for me to control sometimes. once again, not an excuse but i jus’ let my anger get out of hand and i swear to be better about it.”

you looked to the side to avoid looking at him while thinking carefully bout your next words. “you don’t get it. you say all this stuff and i want to believe you but i’m not even sure thats possible after what you said the other day.”

he nodded in agreement. “i understand that and i know that things won’t just go back to normal. i’m not asking you to do that. i’m just asking that you try to work things out with me. give me time to prove to you that i can be better and i promise you, you won’t regret it.”

you knew it was a bad idea. you could feel it in your bones but the bigger part of you wanted to hold him and tell him things would be okay. you wanted to wipe his pretty tears and kiss his pink lips. it was terrifying. “one last shot rafe. i’m giving you one more try and thats it. you’re not jus’ gonna keep hurting me and expecting me to forgive you and have sex. thats not how this works. i don’t deserve that.”

“no, you deserve the world,” he whispered softly as his lip began to tremble. a sad smile graced his lips before he was laying kisses to your knuckle. “i promise i’ll be so much better baby. i swear on my life.”

you really did hope he was serious this time.

#gracies asks and requests 💌#gracie writes rafe cameron 🌺#obx #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #outer banks

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 day ago

Text

Love?

Warning, this story contains explicit content!

“So, I’m not going to Rask then?” Azriel raises a brow and you can see the fire sparking in his veins. A fire full of anger and betrayal. Another spymaster job Rhys doesn’t grant him to go on.

“Exactly,” Rhys answers tightly, nonchalantly sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants as if not noticing the turmoil within his brother. But you know he notices and probably has good reasons to not send Azriel to the continent. You gather that it simply is too dangerous right now. He would risk his life, and that of his family, and Rhysand can’t allow that.

“Oh come on!” Azriel growls and throws his arms up in despair. “Why are you doing this? Don’t you trust me anymore? Is that why you give me no jobs anymore? Why you trap within this damn court!”

You press your lips together, shoulders slouching. He would never speak about the Night Court in that way. Only if he’s really disappointed, or angry.

You want to confort him, to go up to him and hug him, hold him, or at least hold his hand. But your relationship, if you can call it that, is still secret and now is not the right moment to put the cards on the table.

“Az…” Rhys says calmly, though his body tenses. “You need to understand. I’m doing this because of Feyre, because of the ba–”

“Fuck of, Rhys, I mean it, fuck..,,” The rest of his curse is muffled, and swallowed by the rustling of his wings when Azriel dashes out of the room, shadows vividly swirling behind him. The door slams shut with a loud thump, rattling even the cutlery in the kitchen.

For a moment silence falls upon you, no one moves until the High Lord blows out a long, pent-up breath and throws his head back. Once straightening up again, he turns to the door but you beat him to it. Sliding off the chair quickly, you hurdle to the door and grab the handle before he can do so.

“I’ll go talk to him,” you tell Rhys and pull down the handle. “I‘m not sure he‘ll listen, but I can at least try.”

Azriel is one of the most stubborn males you have ever met. And he is proud, too proud, and hates when Rhys denies him a mission. You don’t know if your words will even break through the hard shell he often builds around himself when brooding, but you can at least try your best.

The corridor and also the staircase is dark, and slightly chilly, only a hint of moonlight lighting up the narrow space as you walk up to his room, thinking of the best way to approach him and not upset him any further.

You knock gently at first, a little louder when he doesn’t answer and then simply walk into the room when he ignores you a third time.

Males.

Eyes closed, legs crossed at the ankles and head tipped back, he’s leaning against the bedrest of his bed, shadows lazily moving around him. “What?” he grumbles.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes at him. “Can we talk?” You pull your lower lip between your teeth, trying to keep your voice level and not let your irritation show.

“If you want to tell me that Rhys is right and I’m once again the idiot, you can immediately leave through the door you just walked in.” Azriel points a dismissive thumb at the door. He slowly lifts his head, his eyes open but are fixed on a point on the wall opposite him.

You frown at him. “I’m not here to talk about that, but to make you understand why he reacted like he did.”

“I’m not fucking stupid, I don’t need another explanation.”

“Well, you clearly understood it wrong, so–”

Azriel’s gaze darts to you, brown eyes still full of betrayal and hurt. “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.”

“I know.” You let the door close behind you and walk into the room, still keeping a fine distance between the two of you. Then you exhale loudly. “He did it because of love. Because he loves–”

“Love?” Azriel's voice drips with mockery. “What do you know about–”

“Love?” you spit. “Clearly more than you.” The words slip through your lips and hit Azriel like a harsh slap. His eyes widen, shock filling them. But it’s too late to turn back now, so you add, “I’m not the one who is scared of it, to admit my love out loud, to tell you how I feel. Azriel, I know what loving someone means. And Rhys does not only love Feyre and his children, and wants to protect them at all costs, but he also loves you.”

Your nostrils flare when he doesn’t answer, only staring at you, and you wish you knew what was going through his mind.

“I told you that I loved you,” he finally mutters, dropping his gaze to his lap and his fidgeting fingers. “I said it back. I–”

“When we were fucking!” Your voice rises, hollowing through the suddenly very cold room. “It was the only damn time you said it. The only time you told me you loved. While you were fucking me, Azriel. While you had me on my knees, my ass up, my face pressed into the pillow. You couldn’t even say it straight to my face. Or while looking into my eyes!”

The frustration and slight anger about his unsaid words that has gathered over the past weeks, now bubbles up and gets the best of you.

“That doesn’t make it any less true,” Azriel breathes, and slowly, so painfully slowly, his gaze lifts.

You inhale a deep breath and pause. Then finally with a voice tinged with hurt, you say, “For me, it does.”

"Y/N …" He rubs his hand down his face, and there’s so much regret in his eyes when his gaze finds yours again, you can barely stand it. "Why did you never say anything? I had no idea."

You shake your head with a humorless laugh. "You’re such a male, obviously you wouldn’t know." Then you pull your lip between your teeth. "And I didn’t want to seem like a fool. I thought maybe this was only casual fun between us and nothing more—"

He is on you in an instant, your back hitting the wall as he captures your jaw in his palm, his other hand braced on the wall beside you. “Y/N, I love you.” He locks his gaze with yours. “I am in love with you. I am so in love with you. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t love you.” He drops his head, his forehead touching yours. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” He whispers over and over again until you finally start to believe it.

"And you really mean it." You meet his eyes. "You’re not just saying it to make me feel better?"

Azriel's eyes soften, and he gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean it with every fibre of my being, with everything I am. I’m such a fool for not saying it more often, out loud for the whole world to hear." He gives his head a shake and deep crease forms on his forehead. "And…and I was scared."

His head drops to your shoulder and for a moment he doesn’t continue, only breathes in your scent and then kisses your collarbone.

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. "Of what?" you find yourself asking after a few moments of silence.

As he lifts his head, his eyes slowly open, a pained expression crossing his face. “Because I was scared. Scared if I let you in completely that you would see how broken I really am. And maybe that you would think … I’m desperate. That I tell you how much I love you too soon, that you aren’t ready yet. That you aren’t there yet."

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands. “Azriel, I would never think you’re broken, and even if you are, then I want to help you fix these broken pieces. You don’t have to be perfect for me. I just need you to be you."

He leans into your touch, his eyes glistening with tears. “I love you," he whispers and this time it is really honest. "Can you forgive me?“

You pull him into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. “If you never assume my feelings for you again. I love you, and I’ve told you so before. Don’t ever think I’m not ready to say it out loud, to confess my love for you out loud, to love you openly and freely."

He holds you close, his voice a whisper in your ear. “Let me show you that I mean it.” Azriel kisses your neck. “You spoke of us fucking and I don’t like this word to describe what it feels like between us. Let me make love to you. Let me show you how much I love you. Let me worship you."

Driven by desire and the wonderful four letter word, you both discard off your clothes in an instant, leaving you bare and fully exposed on the bed in front of him.

Azriel is kneeling between your thighs, your feet braced on either side of his hips as his heated gaze drops to your core. It‘s where damp heat already pools and soon Azriel’s mouth finds its place, to lick, and feast and devour. Soft, quick pants leave you when your eyelids start to feel heavy as you fully give yourself to him. Slowly dissolving into heat and pleasure.

Your knuckles turn white from how tightly you hold onto the pillows next to you, watching Azriel dip his head between your thighs. A low groan leaves Azriel, the sound raw and primal, turning you molten, and your legs begin to tremble. Your back arches into him, into the soft brush of his lips against your core, the feel of his tongue inside of you, but his firm grip on your thighs only tightens. He keeps you in place, exactly where he wants you to be.

"You taste—" He starts and drives his tongue into you once more, licking one long stroke from your centre up to your clit. "Divine."

He meets your gaze, watching for your reaction. But you can’t answer, you’re rendered dumb, feeling too hot, your nerves too stimulated. You can only moan and it makes the shadowsinger grin against your wet heat.

The strong tendons of his throat stand out when he clenches his jaw, his pupils dilating even more when he dips his head again. The broad stroke of his tongue through your silken folds up to the apex of your thighs, has you squirming. Your back arches even more, your hips lift, pressing against his face and a lewd gasp leaves you.

It is the firm grip of his scarred hands that places you back on the bed, that holds you tightly, that limits your movements. Azriel chuckles lowly, sending vibrations and hot air right into your core. You squirm against him and the shadowsinger tips his head back only an inch. “Baby,” he coos, grinning, his lips glistening with saliva and your arousal. “Relax and let me worship you properly. Let me show you how much I love you. How much I need you.”

Using first one and then two scarred fingers, he brings out the most pleasure as he feasts, his tongue driving deep into. He licks and suckles, holding you firmly, the sounds that leave his mouth sounding like a sin in your ears. Azriel is like a hungry, starved male, his primal need fully unleashed, his restraints gone. You wreathe beneath his ministration, your walls clenching before you shatter, fall apart and fully dissolve into pleasure, crying out his name.

Wave after wave of hot pleasure wash over you, pulling you under, drowning you in passion and desire. And love.

You come with his name on your lips.

Azriel lets you ride out your height, softly guiding you through it, his tongue and lips still sloppily licking and kissing your sex and then a slow path up your belly. "I love you. I love you. I love you so much." He whispers against your navel, kissing your soft skin, up to the valley of your breasts. "I love you."

Azriel pampers your collar bone in small pecks, all the while he tells you he loves you, over and over again until his mouth finds yours. But before he kisses you a second time, he holds your gaze and smiles. "I love you, Y/N, and I‘m sorry if I ever made you feel like I didn’t. I want the whole world to know how much I love you. And that," —he kisses you— "you‘re mine. Fully and completely."

He leans down and flicks his tongue over the hardened peak of your breast, while he positions his hard length against your entrance. His lips close around your nipple, licking, suckling.

“Yes?” Azriel breathes against your breast. Your hips give a little jerk, making him slide him just the slightest bit. You revel in the feeling of the crown of broad cock pressing against you.

But he doesn’t move, doesn’t allow you to rub your hips against him any further. Instead, he says, "Words, baby. Use your words. Tell me what you want."

“I need you, Az. I need you in me. Please. Please, make love to me!”

Azriel’s reaches down between your bodies and adjusts himself between your thighs, softly pressing against your hot flesh. “Look at your dripping cunt, already soaking me.“ He grins as he meets your eyes again, but there’s an emotion in his eyes that catches your attention. One that makes tears spring to your heavy-lidded eyes. Love.

Then he slides in and it has you both gasping. Both of you look down at where you are connected. Azriel’s lips part in a silent hiss. “Fuck your perfect. Your tight little pussy is gripping my cock so well.”

Azriel stretches you out to the fullest as he slides further into you, slowly pulling out and then moving into you again, making you feel every inch of his glorious, hard length, and drawing out the utmost pleasure from you.

He leans in, softly brushing his lips against yours. “We were made for one another." Then he pushes into the hilt. The same moment, your hand slides into the hair at the back of his neck and your lips close over his. “We do,” you whisper. “You feel so good, Azriel.”

Azriel’s lips curl against yours when he stills for a moment, letting you both savour the moment.

Once you fall into the perfect rhythm of soft, gentle love making, his hips brushing yours with every time he moves deep into you, one of his hands slides to your lower belly gently adding pressure. You pull your legs up, curling them around his waist and moan at the feeling of it. Gods, it truly feels perfect.

“Az…“ you whine, your eyes rolling back in your head as your nails pierce the skin on his shoulders.

His entire body covers you, his wings flared, creating something like a cocoon around you. And then he kisses you deeply, with fever and passion, his tongue meetings yours with every stroke and his pace increases.

“Tell me how good I make you feel,” Azriel whispers when his lips close over your lips once more. You love his cocky confidence in the bedroom and how sure he is off his skills when you’re tangled in the sheets.

“So good,” you breathe through gritted teeth, your head thrown back, your eyes squeezed closed, the sound of skin moving against skin in your ears.

Azriel kisses a path down to your breasts, taking your right nipple into his mouth. He hums against our skin and you can feel yourself clench around him.

"I'm close.“ You let your nails scratch down his back as you cry out.

"Let go." You know he can feel you tighten around him, your walls hugging him tightly, almost milking his cock.

The spymaster’s pace turns softer once more, slowly, steadily moving in and out of you. His thrusts are long and coordinated now. A lewd sob parts your lips, as your back bows of the bed. Calluses scrape over your soft skin when Azriel’s hand slides up your body, cradling your face. He lowers his forehead to yours, exhaling warm air that feels like a summer breeze against your skin.

"Look at me," he demands softly. "Look at me and let me see the pretty look on your face when you come around me."

And so you open your eyes, pupils fully dilated, mouth still agape.

"Good girl,“ he praises and a grin forms on his lips. "I love you so much."

Your back arches, pressing against the solid body of your lover, your mouths meeting in a sloppy brush of lips and teeth and tongues. Azriel’s stomach flexes, cock twitching and balls tightening. He’s close as well, but he always wants to make sure you come first. Or at least that you come at the same time.

Giving you the last little push you need, he thumbs clit, rubbing small circles against the bundle of nerves, adding the tiniest bit of extra pleasure that lets you fall over the edge and dissolve into pleasure.

Your pants come out quicker, your moans getting higher. You claw at his shoulders, flecks of white and black sparking in your vision when your eyes roll back. You clench around him, and a lewd cry parts your lips as you come.

Azriel follows you not even a second later, his entire body trembling as his release spurts against your walls, his forehead dropping to yours.

"I love you, baby. I love you so much,“ he breathes against your skin, cradling your face. "I love you."

Together, you ride out your high, hips moving sloppily against one another, mouths occasionally meeting in open-mouthed kisses as you continue to whisper sweet declarations and words of love.

And when you finally lie in each other’s arms, you meet his eyes and say, "See, I know a lot about love."

Azriel smirks and simultaneously pinches your butt. "Smartass."

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acosf #acotar x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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ssaaaronmontgomery · 3 days ago

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thoughts about mean stepdad!hotch who is polite to everyone other than you... lashing out angrily because it's the only thing that can stop him from bending u over and taking what he wants from u, filling u up with his hot cvm over and over again 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

Stop Ignoring Me

Warnings: Smut, p in v sex, mean!stepdad!hotch (both consenting adults), mentions of oral sex (fem!recieving), mentions of Hotch masturbating and thinking of reader, reader gets bratty, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 850

Pairing: stepdad!hotch x fem!reader

A/n: Oh my god YESSSS. I got very carried away at some point when I was working on writing my thoughts out 😅. At some point it turned into a blurb so that is what I'll count it as. I hope you enjoy it 🫶. The writing may be a bit off because it was originally going to be a thoughts post but I am leaving it as is.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

For this post only: @queenofvelaris @itsneverlupus2

Let me know if you want to be added to my tags 🫶

*NSFW MDNI*

It is how he keeps you at a distance so that he doesn't rail you until you can't think anymore. You never understood why he was always so mean and cold to you but would turn around and be so nice with his voice so soft to everyone else. Sometimes you wonder what you did wrong to feel like he hated you so much. It made you sad. The one person you had eyes for would hardly even speak to you. He wouldn't look at you. But little did you know that if he did look at you that his eyes would wander, and he would end up hard in his slacks before leaving for the BAU every single morning.

And then there was one time you overheard him moaning in the room he shared with your mother. She was gone for that weekend, so it was easy to imagine what he was doing. You shouldn't have listened, but you did. And that's how you found out that he was fucking his fist to the thought of you. Your name falling from his lips sounded amazing, but it shocked you. Not only because he's your stepdad but he treats you like you barely even exist.

So, when you realise that he must be acting that way to keep you at a distance, you decide to try getting him to warm up to you. You do everything you can. You make him a drink when you know he will be home from a long case. You make him food sometimes. He loves how it tastes but he acts like it's just okay. You practically throw yourself at him multiple times, but he pretends that that's not what is happening and completely denies you any sliver of interest. When being over-the-top nice doesn't do anything to get that scowl off his face, you start to be a brat instead.

You start to be just as rude to him. You ignore him and you pretend that he's not there. You don't greet him like you used to whenever you saw him. You stop with making him any drinks or food. You act as disinterested in him as possible. He notices it immediately. And he does not like it. He liked the attention you would show him, but he knew he had to ignore you, or he wouldn't be able to help fucking you until you were screaming his name at the top of your lungs

It wasn't until you came home with so little clothing and smeared lipstick that he finally ended up breaking. He pulled you into his home office and asked where you had been looking like that. He asked if you were out fucking someone. You weren't, but clearly the show you had put on had worked. You smeared that lipstick yourself just to get this reaction from him.

"All this time I've tried so hard not to fuck you and fill you with cum. I've tried not to stare too long. I've held myself back from tasting you. You have no idea how many times I have thought about doing things to you, how many positions I've thought about taking you in. I can't decide which to start with. Any ideas?" His voice is so deep and dark and it makes your knees weak. You just stare at him with wide eyes. He chuckles and you think it sounds condescending. "I think I know where to start." And then he drags you over to his desk, clears it, and yanks your clothes off before bending you over it. He presses his crotch against your dripping heat and you can feel how painfully hard his is in his slacks that he has yet to change out of after work. You know that means he was doing paperwork as he waited for you to come home.

"You feel what you do to me? You're soaking wet. You like this? You knew exactly what you were doing, hm? Trying to piss me off enough to get me to fuck you?" All you can do is whine and nod.

"Wanted you to stop ignoring me." You manage to pout at him You can hear him undoing his slacks and you imagine him pulling his cock out. You feel his tip begin rubbing through your slit and then it's prodding at your entrance. He finally pushes into you completely without much warning. He feels big, but not too big. He doesn't give you any time to adjust before he starts pounding into your pussy with no mercy. He spends the rest of the evening fucking you over and over again. He is taking all of his pent-up frustration out from not being able to have you and he's not sure when he'll get to have you again. When he's not fucking you, he is eating you out until he gets hard again. By the time he's done with you, his cum is dripping down your thighs and you both know that you're ruined for any other person, and you know it will happen again at some point. Even if he tries to restrain himself like he had before.

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revelboo · 2 days ago

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Every time I listen to ( puppy love by Paul anka) it reminds me of Waspinator and b-127 they are clingy puppies o⁠(⁠(⁠*⁠^⁠▽⁠^⁠*⁠)⁠)⁠o

Please update if you have free time any of them would be nice I'm checking your page every day 😉✨

Sure!

The Coma Kid Pt 8

B 127 x Reader

• “Are you sleeping?” Not anymore. Squinting as he leans over you, those blue optics are bright and far too close when he stares down at you. He’d been humming to himself, mercifully distracted from smothering you with love and attention. And you were supposed to be planning your escape, not napping, but the lull in the nonstop jabbering had let you relax enough to fall asleep apparently. Groaning, you drape an arm over your eyes and make an even louder noise when he slides his servos under you and picks you up. “Here we go,” he murmurs, lying back on his berth with you cupped against his chassis and then mass shifting so you end up sprawled on top of him, heart racing. Hating when he does that, because it feels like you’re falling. “Nice and warm. Just us.”

• Draping an arm against your back, the servos of his other hand play with your hair. Fascinated with how soft and warm you are. His. Still can’t believe you’re his. That’s he’d found his spark mate. His destined other half. And sure, you’re a bit standoffish. But you’re just shy. You’ll come around. You have to come around. Please come around, because he doesn’t want to be alone anymore. “Can’t breathe,” you hiss at him, squirming and he eases up his grip.

• “Oh, no. No, I’m so sorry. You okay?” He asks. Wheezing when he finally stops trying to crush your ribs, you scowl up at him. “I didn’t mean to,” he says, servos gently brushing your cheek and jaw, tipping your chin up. Worrying over you. “Did I hurt you?” Why does he have to be so sweet and so mind numbingly frustrating at the same time? “I hurt you, didn’t I?” Can giant, alien robots cry, because he looks like he just might.

• “No, you didn’t,” you say, reaching to pat his arm. “Look, we need to talk.” Venting at your tone, he tucks his chin against his chassis, servos sliding down your spine as he watches you. And you’re so unbelievably perfect. Servos brushing your bottom lip, he rumbles at you. Would rather kiss you. Roll you under him and make love all night long. Because he knows that tone. Tired and resigned. Elita uses it with him all the time before telling him to stop annoying her.

• “You know, we should invite Optimus over for a meal,” he says, changing the subject and your eyes narrow. “You’re going to love him. He’s just great.” Yeah, he’s just steamrolling you. Like it’s going to get him out of talking to you. Explaining patiently to him all the reasons this can’t work between you. Why you’re not his soul mate or whatever. Because you need to soften the blow for when you eventually get away. Know it’s stupid to feel guilty about escaping your lovesick kidnapper, but you kind of do. “If it wasn’t for him, I’d still be alone down in sublevel fifty.” Sublevel fifty?

Reminding myself that I can sorta draw

#transformers x reader #b 127 x reader #b 127

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kuronarnze · 3 days ago

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a/n: i srsly love Charles sm! So sad that when NEL arc ends we can't see Charles (kaiser, ness, and others) much anymore sjoajeke :(.So heres another oneshot heh! Enjoy!

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

Je Te Trouve Mignon

"y/n, repeat after me—‘Bonjour.’”

Charles leaned in slightly, his golden eyes filled with amusement as he watched y/n struggle to mimic his accent. She sat beside him, a notebook on her lap, her (e/c) eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Bon...jour?" she said hesitantly.

Charles grinned. "Très bien! You’re learning fast."

y/n huffed, puffing her cheeks slightly. "You're just saying that."

He chuckled. "Non, non. I'm serious. You’re doing great, ma belle élève."

She tilted her head. "What does that mean?"

"It means ‘my beautiful student.’"

y/n blinked, processing his words before looking away, pretending to jot something down in her notebook. Charles smirked at her reaction but continued his lesson.

They had been sitting in a quiet corner of the school library, Charles offering to teach y/n some basic French phrases. At first, she was reluctant, but he was persistent—too persistent. And now, here they were, going over simple greetings and common phrases.

"Alright," Charles said, tapping his pen against the desk. "Let's try something fun. Repeat after me—‘Tu es mignon.’"

y/n frowned. "What does it mean?"

He gave her an innocent smile. "You'll find out after you say it."

She sighed. "Tu es mignon"

Charles suddenly placed a hand over his heart, dramatically leaning back as if she had just shot an arrow through his chest. "y/n, mon cœur! You think I'm cute?"

Y/n stiffened. "What—?! Wait—! That’s what it means?!"

He laughed, his shoulders shaking. "Oui! You just called me cute!"

Her face turned red in an instant. "Charles!" she smacked his arm lightly, hiding her flustered expression behind her notebook.

"But you said it so naturally," he teased, leaning closer. "Maybe you really do think I'm cute, hm?"

"Shut up," she muttered, looking away.

Charles chuckled, utterly entertained by her reaction. He rested his chin on his hand, watching her with a smirk. "You know,y/n, if you want to keep learning French, I'm always happy to teach you. Especially if it means hearing more sweet words from you."

Y/n groaned. "This was a mistake."

But despite her embarrassment, Charles knew she would come back for another lesson. After all, she was too stubborn to quit now. And who knows? Maybe next time, he’d get her to say something even sweeter.

End.

──────⊹⊱✫⊰⊹──────

soooooo i used google translate hehe.. I ACTUALLY DONT KNOW ANY FRENCH WORDS. But im wanting to learn french hehe, anyways i hope you guys enjoyed! Thank you for reading! Have a nice day or night! (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

#bllk #writers on tumblr #blue lock #charles chevalier #charles chevalier x reader #blue lock x reader #anime x reader #anime and manga #anime #anime fanfic #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock fandom #bllk x yn #bllk x y/n #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk x female reader

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peachhcs · 1 day ago

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i could so see samy and will doing the “we listen and we don’t judge” trend. i thought that could be fun to write about!!

WAIT YES this is my favorite trend ever and i know samy and will would rip one another APART (i know i keep saying i’m coming back but TRUST in two weeks i will because it’s another break😛) (bare with me pls pls)

au masterlist

“you are so lucky i haven’t said no to these yet,” will rolled his eyes as he joined samy at the counter while she set her phone up. she rolled her eyes.

“come on, you think they’re fun.”

“yeah, fun is one way to describe it,” the boy mumbled and samy pinched his arm. he immediately swatted her hand away and the couple eyed one another before settling back in which meant will needed to be serious for once.

samy pressed record and then her and will repeated the phrase, “we listen and we don’t judge.”

she let the hockey player go first, watching as he scanned his list he made five minutes prior to this.

“sometimes when you sent me videos to listen to like on snapchat and i didn’t want to listen, i used to make gabe or ryan listen to them for me and respond to you,” will started off strong and his words made the girl’s mouth drop open.

“will! those were personal sometimes!”

“hey! we listen and we don’t judge,” he reminded with a small smirk. the brunette scoffed and then eyed her own list as they repeated the phrase.

“whenever i was mad at you i didn’t watch your games and then just looked at the highlights after when we talked about it.”

“i knew you did that,” the blonde laughed earning a small shove from samy.

“we listen and we don’t judge.”

“whenever you ask if you smell bad sometimes i say no even when you do so you don’t get upset,” another jaw dropper as the boy giggled to himself.

samy was in disbelief.

“dude, what the fuck? i ask because i don’t wanna smell bad. you fucking bitch,” now, samy wouldn’t have said that if her and will weren’t already best friends first.

“we listen and we don’t judge,” will emphasized while the soccer player rolled her eyes.

“when you ask if the other guy was better than you i always say no because i know you’ll get upset even if he was better,” will’s mouth finally dropped open while samy celebrated her small victory of getting back at will for all his harsh ones.

“we listen and we don’t judge.”

“when we were like 10 and i was mad at you i dipped your toothbrush in the toilet and then let you use the toothbrush until you got a new one,” why were will’s comebacks so much more mean than samy’s. the poor girl’s jaw was on the ground hearing that one.

“will, what the fuck! no wonder why i consistently didn’t feel well for months,” she slapped his arm while he just laughed.

“i know you did it to me so it’s just even,” the boy shrugged while samy looked for her next one.

“we listen and we don’t judge.”

“i used to tell the girls who liked you at games that you were such a player and that you got with everyone so they’d lay off because it pissed me off how much they talked about you right next to me,” samy laughed.

“dude what the hell. is that why i never got any girls,” will playfully rolled his eyes.

“hey, you got me!” the brunette grinned and will couldn’t help his smile seeing that.

“okay last one because i don’t have anymore,” the boy chuckled.

“oh of course you get the last word,” samy shook her head.

“we listen and we don’t judge.”

“when i got into that fight with your ex i don’t think i ever told you the full truth but it was because i liked you at the time and he knew it and wanted to provoke me. he was trying to prove his point which is why he started talking and everything escalated,” will finished and then gave the camera a thumbs up.

“wait what?”

not that kevin talked to them anymore, they were all still friends and will wouldn’t have said that if they weren’t. the blonde winked at the camera, “if you’re watching this kevin, love you. miss you.”

the video ended on that note where all the fans were dying to know the lore in the comments once it was posted.

user1 the roasting is sooo crazy omg

user2 ugh u just knowww they’re best friends bc they can say this stuff about one another and not get mad

user3 when samy smiled at will and he smiled back it was sooo cute awww

user4 is this what a secure relationship looks like??

user5 i love how none of this bothers them really

user6 ugh my shaylassss

user7 waitttt what is the tea at the end???

user8 will fighting samy’s ex??? omg i gotta know

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youremysunshine8 · 2 days ago

Text

Shen Yuan reviewed his options. He was pretty sure that Shen Jiu wasn't a transmigrator - but he would lay out a clue just in case. He said, "my old friend is here, yes. It wants me to follow a certain Way, if you know what I mean."

Shen Jiu didn't blink at the reference, but he looked furious nonetheless. "It's controlling you? Is that why you've been pretending to be me?"

That was probably the best excuse he could give. Shen Yuan responded, "In a way. There are certain things that had to happen. I had to come to Cang Qiong, you know. Or well, you did. It wasn't just the system, everyone expected you. Wu Yanzi at first, then Yue Qingyuan. Anyway," he shuddered, "I've always regretted the way your life turned out." That at least was true - he regretted the torment of Binghe, and the future looming before himself!

Shen Jiu looked devastated. "I know the system was what made you protect the other street rats, even if it was what got us caught. Was that what made you take my clothes that day? Was it beyond you?" His eyes narrowed, "I will have to consider this, A-Yuan."

WARNING! called the system. IF SHEN QINGQIU ATTCKS THE SYSTEM THEN HOST WILL BE PUNISHED.

Shen Yuan winced, and said soothingly, "Jiu ge, let's not talk about this anymore. Things are, well, they're getting better now. Aside from everything. Let's focus on getting you back home."

Shen Jiu didn't look like he would stop plotting to destroy the system, but he agreed to keep quiet - for now. "Either way, as soon as I can get Yue Qingyuan alone, I will be asking him some very deliberate questions," he snarled.

Shen Yuan gulped.

----

!!!! His gege survived and became Shang Qinghua? How did that make any sense? The system had told him from day one that Shang Feng would become Shang Qinghua, and his brother, Shang Huahua, would have a different destiny.

Shang Huahua had always been a lying, scheming little jerk with the best prank ideas. And he had died on a mission when they were both disciples. It had even been in the backstory of Shang Qinghua, from proud immortal demon way!

"Shang Qinghua had a brother once, another scheming disciple of An Ding. This brother had died due to inadequate protections on a mission. This had hardened Shang Qinghua's heart against the cultivation world, leading to his easy betrayal of them for the demonic realm. His actions at the immortal alliance conference could even be called retribution against the sects that had failed to protect his brother."

Obviously that had never been published, but Airplane had always known what was coming. Airplane had always tried to remember that the people around him were just characters, with set destinies, and his brother was doomed to die. And he had.

"Shang Huahua?" He whispered, "you - didn't go on that mission to retrieve the egg of the red-pearled parrot Cobra?"

"No," Shang Huahua said with a sneer, "you did Feng-er. One last prank, you said, before we focus on making head disciple. You never came back."

Never came back. Was that alternate Feng -er also Airplane? Or was it just a coincidence? Could he have changed his brother's fate, if he'd just tried?

Airplane began to weep.

Shen Qingqiu was doomed.

He stood still, fluttering his fan nervously and trying to avoid catching his counterpart's, the real Shen Qingqiu, glaring eyes from across the room. Instead, he idly observed the other Cang Qiong Mountain Peak Lords, trying to spot the differences between the ones he knew and their alternates.

Liu Qingge had brought back a strange artifact from one of his hunts to the monthly Peak Lord meeting. It was a mirror, rimmed an ugly tarnished gold, topped with a decoration that was shaped into an unidentifiable creature with ruby red eyes.

[Important Artifact Detected: Red-Eyed Sphinx's Mirror! Quest starting...]

Shen Qingqiu had been trying to remember where it might have appeared in PIDW when the surface of the mirror suddenly began to glow a dull yellow. It quickly brightened until it obscured everyone's vision.

And then, there stood another set of peak lords across the room, facing them down.

System, what on earth is going on???

[Quest started: Lost Long Spirit in My Reflection! Other characters have been transported to this universe. Host must find a way to send them back without revealing his identity as a transmigrator.]

WTF? I didn't agree to this!

[Good luck!]

System??? Get back here!

While the two Yue Qingyuans and Xu Qinglis conversed together to try to understand what had happened, the other peak lords had begun to mingle with each other, curious about their counterparts.

Shen Qingqiu tried to suppress his panic, sticking close to Shang Qinghua. His Yue Qingyuan occasionally flicked his softened gaze towards the alternate Shen Qingqiu, likely noticing that the other still acted as he used to before his qi deviation. In fact, several of the peak lords he had gotten to know over the years were sending some looks at the other Shen Qingqiu.

With the original goods right there, how long would it be before something exposed him as a fraud?? What if he was confronted about why he acted so differently?

[Host must avoid having his identity exposed. Being revealed as a transmigrator will result in Host being immediately sent back to his old body.]

Yeah, yeah, same shit as always!

Looking to his side, Shang Qinghua seemed to be experiencing the same threats, desperately looking away from the more dead-eyed Shang Qinghua across the room who, luckily, was barely paying him any attention.

Fuck, what do we do?

---

Shen Qingqiu continued to glare at the Other Shen Qingqiu in the room. The other Shen Qingqiu was so obviously a fraud, he could tell within minutes of being here. While his alternate seemed somewhat familiar, he didn't act like him at all, his mannerisms were all off, and despite the attempt at keeping a poker face, Shen Qingqiu could tell that he was nervous. Probably at being caught out.

His alternate self had likely been replaced with a bodysnatcher or some sort of spirt, if they truly were supposed to be the same person. Was everyone else stupid, or had they had their brains sucked out by a Heart Mouthed Lobster-Squid?

Or maybe they simply like the bodysnatcher better and didn't bother to investigate.

Shen Qingqiu's face became stormier, turning his glare to the Other Yue Qingyuan, wondering if he had felt happier once his precious Xiao-Jiu had vanished. The other Yue Qingyuan's face grew even more pathetic. Tch. Typical.

"That stupid System--" Shen Qingqiu nearly snapped his neck in looking at the bodysnatcher upon hearing his murmur. The fraud, upon noticing his sudden attention, clammed back up and looked away. But Shen Qingqiu knew what he heard.

Xi Tong.

He hadn't heard those words in years, not since--

He stepped forward, scanning the other once more. Upon a second, more thorough look, Shen Qingqiu realized that he grew more familiar. He wore his hair in the way that Shen Qingqiu wore it, but looser and less severe. His eyes were clearer and lighter, with hints of a smile, despite his nerves. He occasionally quickly glanced up and to his left, as if seeing something there, before bringing his attention back to the room at large.

No. It couldn't be. He was long dead, despite Shen Qingqiu's best efforts. Even if the fake had some similar things about him, that doesn't mean--

Shen Jiu had once had a brother, besides Qi-ge. Slightly smaller than him, despite the fact that Shen Jiu passed him along as much food as he could when on the streets. He smiled so much despite their circumstances, and was so kind despite Shen Jiu constantly telling him that he was making himself a target. But he looked so, so similar to Shen Jiu himself. They could have switched their clothes and looked exactly the same, if one didn't notice the difference in their demeanors.

His brother has also always been a little odd, talking to himself and arguing with an imaginary friend that only he could see named Xi Tong. One of the reasons that they survived as long as they did on the streets was due to the inexplicable knowledge that his brother seemed to have. Somehow, his brother knew about the various plants or small animals that they could hunt and sell for a pretty coin in the markets. Shen Jiu never asked, not looking a gift horse in the mouth.

But his brother was dead. He had died years ago, in the time during when they were in Qiu's manor. During a punishment for Shen Jiu's attempt to get them both to join Wu Yanzi; he had switched their clothes and taken Shen Jiu's place and died for it. That had been the final catalyst that made him set the manor ablaze and escape, mourning his brother's death as his fault for daring to be free. Cursing Qi-ge for not coming back for them.

Dazed and his vision dim, Shen Jiu took another step forward, and another. Hope, something he thought he had killed off long ago, slowly rose in his chest.

Had his brother survived in this world? Had he managed to escape alongside Shen Jiu? Or had Shen Jiu died in his place? Dimly, he can't help but think that the world would be far kinder if that were the case. If his brother had made it to Cang Qiong Mountain and became a peak lord all on his own and still managed to keep his smile. If he didn't have Shen Jiu dragging him down with him.

The other Shen Qingqiu, not having noticed his approach, laughed at something the other Shang Qinghua said ("Wonder if Shang Qinghua is a traitor here, too," Shen Jiu thought dimly). His laugh was the same. He rose his fan to hide his face, but Shen Jiu noticed how his nose crinkled, and his eyes nearly closed in delight, exactly like--

"A-Yuan?"

#shang qinghua #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #airplane shooting towards the sky #shen jiu #using tossowary 's name for sqh #svsss #shen twins #shen brothers #original shen qingqiu #shang twins #shang brothers #my svsss #my addition #because Shang Qinghua grew up here! he would have known his brother!

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ace-of-zaun · 3 days ago

Text

Kiss Me More. Pt 4:

silco x f!reader - 2.4k words - SFW

cw: fluff, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, break-ups, self-doubt, emotions, silco is a lovely boy

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

Only a few days after Silco had crashed your date, Seven turns up at your work and invites you to a run-down café during your lunch break, where he rather efficiently ‘breaks up’ with you.

It’s quite a curt speech, all in all. Very straight to the point and surprisingly only includes one, extremely cliché, it's not you it’s me, that he doesn’t even really sound that sorry about.

You’re mostly too stunned by the sheer audacity to respond to a single word he says.

And then, to add insult to injury, the lunch ends quite abruptly with Seven pushing back his chair with a scrape and exiting the café (conveniently forgetting to pay for the large lunch and three drinks he’d greedily consumed whilst talking), where he promptly begins to flirt with a girl playing the guitar on the other side of the street.

You go back to work in a daze.

Truthfully, you’re a little bit relieved that it’s finally over and that you weren’t the one to have to do the ‘breaking up’ in the end.

But even though you never really liked him, and even though you think it won’t be enough if you never see his arrogant mug ever again, you still feel that inevitable ache of rejection. The kind which unfortunately hits you right in the middle of your afternoon shift at work, where you almost start blubbering on a customer who innocently asks if you have any vintage picnic baskets. (How could they be so insensitive, don’t they know you went on a picnic for your second date?!)

And after an agonising rest of the afternoon, hating everyone for carrying on as normal as if life isn’t just a cesspit of cruelty, you finally return home from work emotionally exhausted, and desperate to just crawl into bed and hide under the covers forever, until the end of time, please and thank you.

Except, fate must have it in for you because the very second you make it through the front door, Silco is waiting for you on the sofa.

He jumps to his feet the moment he sees you, looking strangely nervous as he shuffles from one foot to the other. You close the door behind you slowly, eyeing him up like he’s a rabid bunny about to chomp at your ankles.

It’s tempting to just make a run for it and never look back. But he’s clearly been waiting for you, made doubly obvious by the fact that Vander is watching from the kitchen doorway, leaning casually against the frame with his arms crossed.

Silco says your name cautiously, drawing your gaze back to him.

You blink at him slowly which he must take as his cue to start speaking.

"Hey, uh, look," he begins, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, clearly struggling to make eye contact. "I just wanted to apologise for upsetting you the other day. And I didn't mean to imply that you would never be good enough for someone, of course I don't think that."

"The opposite really…" he then mumbles under his breath.

Vander clears his throat loudly and Silco darts a glance over his shoulder at him. From this angle, you can’t see the face Silco pulls but you can clearly see the pointed look Vander gives him in return.

Then, just as quickly, Silco swivels back round to face you before awkwardly adding, "And, uh, I'm sorry for crashing your date. It won't happen again. Promise."

If you weren’t feeling so despondent, you’d have laughed at the irony. No, Silco, you definitely won’t be crashing any more dates.

You take a deep breath, conscious of his poorly hidden apprehension while he waits for your response.

"Well, thanks for the apology, Silco, but it really doesn't matter anymore," you say, finding it difficult to inject any kind of warmth or enthusiasm into your timbre.

But instead of the look of relief you expected, you find yourself confused at the expression of absolute horror that suddenly paints itself across Silco’s face.

"What."

"He broke up with me," you clarify with a frown.

You’re certain that the carousel of emotions that play out across Silco’s face would be thoroughly entertaining at any other time. Starting with pure surprise, that then shifts to guilty relief, before landing on a look that can only be described as torn.

"Oh," he says, before his features finally, finally drop into concern. "Oh."

You’re not sure what prompts you to do it because it’s definitely not a conscious decision, but all of a sudden you find yourself walking silently to your bedroom like you’re stuck on tracks. You think Silco might call your name behind you, but you can’t respond, stuck in your own little bubble of despair.

And before you know it, you’re getting into bed and hugging a pillow to your body as you begin to cry.

It’s all a confusing mess of pressure that sits right in your chest; the disappointment, and sense of abandonment, and that awful, desperate hope for a new chance at what you’d hoped might eventually become love.

You have no idea how long you stay curled up in your bed, but at some point, the sobs eventually recede into a quiet stream of tears, salting your cheeks.

In fact, you’re only brought back to the real world when a knock sounds on your bedroom door.

You ignore it, which only proves futile because a few seconds later the door pushes open anyway, revealing a fuzzy, tear-blurred Silco.

You watch him silently, blinking the tears out of your sore eyes. Normally, you’d be shouting at him for not respecting your boundaries, but just now, you have no energy to do anything but sniffle and stare.

"I brought you some tea," he announces, terribly, heart-breakingly soft.

Silco places the tray down on your bedside cabinet with a carefulness you rarely see from the lanky boy, much more accustomed to the rough, slightly clumsy way that he usually trips through life.

But when you finally get a glimpse of the tray, you find that he hasn’t just brought you tea, but also the small box of chocolates you’d spent months scrimping and saving for, just to give to him on his birthday.

Your heart pangs at the thoughtfulness and almost threatens to set you off crying again.

"Those are yours," you croak out, throat sore and just that little bit swollen.

His expression crumples into concern at the sound, but he manages to keep that soft, soothing timbre that’s held you together through countless bad nights at this point.

"You deserve them more than I do."

Your bottom lip juts out in protest against the tears that begin to flow again, entirely without your permission.

Silco carefully sits down on the edge of the mattress, reaching out with his thumb to gently brush the tears off your cheeks, one side then the other.

You look up at him and there’s a moment where you wish you could become stuck in time, stay in this bittersweet moment forever, just the two of you.

"I really am sorry," he murmurs.

"No, you're not," you mumble back, without heat.

You’re not angry. Gods, you’re far too tired to even think about being angry right now. If anything, you’re just being honest.

"Okay, well I'm not sorry that you're not seeing that scumbag anymore," he replies, and you can’t help but huff an amused breath through your nose at his candour. "But I am sorry for being an asshole,” he finishes.

Then, his tone drops right back into that gentleness as he wipes the tears from your face once more.

"And I'm sorry for making you cry.”

There’s a million things you could say to that, but none of them will really solve anything, so instead you just sniff once and shrug your shoulders the best you can whilst lying on your side, arms still wrapped tightly around your pillow.

Besides, it wouldn’t be very accurate to say that you’re crying because of anything Silco said, or even because of Seven.

If anything, if you really think about it, you’re mostly upset because you have a sneaking suspicion you’re in love with your best friend, and if that wasn’t confusing and overwhelming as it is, then you don’t even want to consider what would happen if he didn’t feel the same…

Oh, gods, what if he doesn’t feel the same?

Your expression crumples at the thought of Silco rejecting you, so you shove your face into your pillow as a fresh wave of sobs break through you.

At this, Silco makes an upset noise from above you, lifting the covers and shuffling to lie next to you in bed.

He wraps his arms around you, but with the pillow squishing between your bodies it just feels ridiculous, so you tug the pillow from your front and throw it over his shoulder, off the bed, closing the gap to hug him properly.

Silco’s arms engulf you like a lock fitting in a key, your face pressed into his sternum as your arms hug tight around his waist whilst he holds you to his body, one hand cradling the back of your head whilst the other strokes soothingly up and down your back.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispers into your hair. "I'm really sorry."

It takes a few more moments for you to stop sobbing, but you force yourself to push through it. You have to let him know that this isn’t what he thinks it is.

"It's fine, Silco," you say through gulps of air. "I… I didn't really like him anyway."

"You didn't?" he says, just a little bit too far on the side of hopeful as he delicately threads his fingers into your hair.

"No. He was a dick,” you say bluntly. "And he… sometimes made me feel kind of uncomfortable.”

Part of you feels a little bit foolish for allowing yourself to spend so much time with such an insipid person. But this was only your first foray into the world of dating. Who can blame you for hoping it would all get better with time?

Silco stiffens in your arms, pulling back just enough so that he can look you in the eye.

"He what?"

You're genuinely surprised at the venom in his tone.

"I'm going to fucking kill him," he seethes, fingers tightening ever-so-slightly until he’s gripping the back of your shirt in his fingers. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, no, nothing like that.” You’re quick to reassure him before he gets the wrong idea. "I just didn't really like it when he tried to kiss me or hold my hand. He was just a bit… I don’t know… gross?"

Silco calms down marginally, to your relief, but a layer of hurt still resides.

"I can still kill him," he offers darkly.

"Shut up, you idiot," you chide, but find yourself helpless to the smile that tugs at your lips.

You pull him back into a proper hug to hide it. Honestly, the last thing this ridiculous boy needs is to be encouraged.

It’s comfortably quiet for a few minutes, and Silco returns to gently carding his fingers through your hair. This is how everything should be. This is how it should feel.

"Do you think it was my fault?" you blurt out, entirely against your will.

"What? No. None of it was your fault," Silco insists. "He was the one who messed you about."

"No, not that, I mean…" you begin, trailing off until you can put it into words. "I just mean, it didn't feel like what I thought a relationship should feel like, you know?"

Silco shuffles back slightly, close enough that you’re still holding onto one another, but far enough so that he can lay his head on the one remaining pillow you’re currently sharing.

From here, you can see his emotion-tired expression, faces close like when you were little and Sil would climb into your bed after a particularly harrowing nightmare, telling you stories and nonsense ramblings until you eventually felt safe enough to go back to sleep.

Except now, there’s something more. Something charged, connecting you in a way that is much deeper and much more rousing than when you were children.

"How should it feel?" he asks, voice low.

"I don't know…" you say, considering. "I think… I think you should feel comfortable with your partner, and not nervous all the time."

He nods, ink hair slowly becoming messier against the pillow.

"Like you're at home with them," Silco adds.

"Yeah," you reply, surprised he understands you so well. "And you should want to be around them, not wishing they’d just leave you alone."

The little smile he gives spurs you on.

"And- and when you kiss, it should feel like nothing or no-one else in the world exists in that moment. Like the only thing that matters is you and them."

Silco carefully tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, the pads of his fingers trailing softly down your jaw, as he looks at you in a way no-one ever has before.

"And you didn't feel any of that with him?"

A brief pause, as you genuinely, truly contemplate it.

"No."

But I did with you.

"Well, then. He clearly didn't deserve you if he didn’t make you feel any of that," Silco decides, with an air of finality. Like he’s putting Seven to rest. Done and dusted.

“Yeah, I guess…” you say, cheeks burning a little pink at the compliment. It was probably unintentional, knowing Silco.

But then, he says your name, expression turned serious, almost startlingly so.

“Yeah?” you ask, slowly and nervously.

Silco’s mouth opens for a moment before it falls shut again and he draws you into his embrace once more, hiding his face against the side of your neck. His warm breath tickles your skin and you can’t help but feel that this hug means something, something more than the previous ones did.

You’re too scared of accidentally ruining the moment to ask.

The two of you lay in each other’s arms for a long while, long enough that you completely forget about the cup of tea steadily cooling on the bedside cabinet. Long enough that you slowly drift to sleep in his warmth, exhausted but for the first time in a long time, comfortable.

Maybe if you can find a way to stay like this forever, everything will turn out alright.

a/n: there’s no unrequited love in this house by the way, all will be well, reader’s just going through it a bit at the moment… and we would have gotten away with it if it weren’t for them meddling emotions!!!

super secret taglist 🤠: @oceansssblue , @inolaphoenix , @holographicgarden , @darlingimafangirl , @rainyforest777 , @kikiiswashere , @deviantgamergirl , @miffysoo , @eternallyvenus , @forcrybaby , @laurazuko6 , @kakashiislut , @aws4blood

#silco #silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco x you #silco fic #silco arcane #arcane #part 4

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bananayuyu · 2 days ago

Text

just friends (3) - false start

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 12.3k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, mirror sex

a/n: this series has been a lot of work so far, but it's been so rewarding. I really hope y'all are enjoying <33

<- previous part | next part -> | series masterlist | read it on ao3

You'd intended to leave quick, that's why you'd said it.

That's why you'd used that word. It had to be.

As you sat wrapped around him, tears streaming from your eyes down his bare chest, it was all you kept telling yourself. You'd needed to leave, needed to work, needed to check on your sick friend. He was trying to start some sort of conversation with you, you could tell. You'd needed to put a stop to it. That's why it rolled off your tongue so easily. That's why you'd said something so preposterously mean. So untrue. Right? It had to be. If not for that reason, why else?

An hour, then two passed you by. You'd shed more tears than you thought you could, felt lower and more broken than you had in a very long time. And even if you were trying desperately to convince yourself of your lack of blame, the realization sunk deeper into you that this was all your fault, these tears. You shouldn't have said that; you felt like you'd taken a step past a deep line in the sand, and knew that you'd probably broken his trust forever. But you couldn't help the little part of you that would always be on your side, even with shit like this, from screaming out your praises. He deserved to hear it, she screamed. He did something wrong.

"Baby," San grunted beneath you, his head slack against the back of the couch. He was tapping at your leg, clearly trying to adjust himself. The muscles of his hip were cramping from the position, but he'd held off moving as long as he could, too mentally gone to really care much. You sat up off of him, moving yourself beside him now, curling around his left arm and resting your wet cheek on his shoulder. You barely opened your eyes at all; you were stuck somewhere deep inside your brain and you had no desire to crawl back up to the surface and deal with the mess you'd just created.

"You okay?" he asked you, crossing his legs underneath him to alleviate his pain, stroking his free hand through your hair. You mumbled something incoherent, looking up at him with bloodshot eyes, your entire face puffy with sadness.

"I don't know," you murmured, more coherent, your lips trembling as you did. You thought you had no more tears left, but the emotional unsteadiness was still somehow there; you had a growing anxiety that it wouldn't leave now no matter what you did, not since you'd said that horrible word to him and the whole world felt like it shook at it's core.

"Me too," he said, sighing, staring up at the ceiling and wiping away the remnants of his own tears, trying desperately to feel better in any way he could.

"I'm sorry," you squeaked, your hands a vice grip around his bicep.

"I know."

"I shouldn't have said- u-used that word," you said.

"I know."

His deep, solemn voice was cutting through you, but it wasn't a sharp, sudden pain. It was slow, it was reaching it's tendrils into the very depths of your soul.

"You scared me," you finally said. Your voice was breathy, breaking on the last word.

"I know, and I'm so sorry," he replied, another tear sneaking it's way out of his left eye.

"But I liked it, too," you said. Your volume hadn't increased, but it felt like the words were being screamed right into San's ear. His breath hitched, and then he let out a massive sigh of relief, his head coming to rest on top of yours. "I'm so fucked up for liking that," you mumbled, more tears falling, your grip on his arm even more severe.

"No, you're not," he said, turning to his side and grabbing you, moving you onto his lap and holding you tight as more tears somehow sprung from your eyes, your body heaving and shaking into him.

"Why do you even like me?" you asked, choking on the words.

"I don't know baby, I just do," he responded.

"I'm- I'm mean, I'm cruel, I'm so selfish-" a sob wracked through you, cutting off your words. "I'm so fucked up, you shouldn't like me," you finished, your hands in front of your face, as if holding them there would somehow put a stop to this.

"That's not really for you to decide," San sighed, and you buried yourself into him more, wishing desperately to go back and time and start this whole day over. The way he was speaking, the words he was using, they all were so choice, so blunt, so obviously honest. And it was hurting to see just how much this thing with you had worn him down, how he no longer could keep up the smart, charming, nice-guy facade that he liked more than his actual self. "It's not really for me to decide either, I suppose," he sighed again, even more deeply.

God it hurt, it cut right through you. "You can't help but liking me even though I'm a mean, horrible person?" you asked, peeling your face off his chest to look at him.

"You're not a horrible person," he responded, and when he looked back at you his face and body were so tense it made you want to scream.

"But I am mean," you said, wiping snot and tears from your face.

"You just accused me of raping you," he said, sighing again.

"I didn't- I-" you sighed yourself, closing your eyes. Was it really worth getting into the minutiae of what exactly you'd said, how it was obvious you weren't really accusing him of that? You couldn't think straight enough for that conversation right now, and more than anything you realized you were on very shaky ground when it came to that discussion. You had used that word, and it had been meant nastily. There wasn't anything left to do but apologize.

"I'm sorry, you didn't rape me, of course you didn't, you're you, you're too perfect and nice and all that shit to do something like that," you said, words flying out of your mouth.

"Then why'd you say it?" he asked.

"I didn't want to talk, I wanted to leave," you said, unable to make eye contact with him. You knew what was coming next.

"So you said that?? Instead of just saying you wanted to leave??" He was keeping his voice down, but the absurdity of your answer was not lost on him, and he couldn't keep his frustration from his tone.

"I know it's stupid, I'm sorry," you responded.

"You confuse me so much," he said, shaking his head, his eyes hitting the ceiling. "This morning you call me to come get stuff for your friend, then you say you wanted me to put you to sleep, then you wake up and don't want to be here anymore. I don't- I don't understand anymore, what you want."

"You asked me if I wanted to come here, I was so exhausted..." you trailed off, face in your hands again.

"I know you can say no to me if you don't want to do something, you do it all the time," he responded, and again the words cut through you, because as much as they were about this weekend, they were about so much more.

"I'm sorry, Sannie," you said. You didn't know what else to say now. The air hung silent for a moment; you were lost in the dark inner world of your mind, and San was just staring at you, watching your face scrunch and twist in what looked like conflict and pain.

"Do you want to stop seeing me?" he asked.

"No, oh my god, of course not," you said, eyes flying open suddenly, the weight of his question knocking every other thought out of your head.

"Then what do you want?" he asked you, eyes thin, eyebrows low.

"I don't know..." you trailed off, eyes darting around you. "I want to make things better between us, I- I know this was all my fault. I'm sorry Sannie I know, I- I'm so stressed right now because of Tina and the manuscript and everything, I know it's no excuse I just-" you sighed, holding the butt of your palms in your eye sockets- "I can't stop fucking crying," you sighed, trying to gather yourself. "If you're done with me I- you're too good for me Sannie, I don't know-"

You cut yourself off, disappointed you couldn't find any of the words you'd wanted to, a sick feeling spreading through your guts as you looked at the dazed and dismayed look on his face.

"We'll have this conversation another time," he sighed, leaning forward to hug you. "You're obviously too stressed about other things right now."

The words struck through you sharply, and it took everything in you not to break down and sob on the spot, again.

"I'm sorry," you said again. It felt so empty, pathetic, falling off your tongue. You'd lost track of how many times you'd said it.

"I can't have you over here during the week anymore," he said, sighing and holding you close to him, placing a kiss on the side of your head. "It fucks with my sleep, I can never get enough when you're here, and this last month I've barely made it to the gym at all, I- I just can't do it anymore."

"Okay," you responded, sounding almost defeated.

"And you can't be mad at me for saying that," he continued. You sucked in a breath; you were so overcome with all of things that last sentence implied, and how it was sort of fucked for him to insist on a particular reaction from you.

"I'm not mad," you said, voice flat.

"I love spending time with you, but I have work, I just can't-"

"I get it," you said. He sighed deeply, the two of you slack against each other, and you could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, his rapid heart pounding away in his chest.

"Your musical is amazing," he said, as you started to unwrap yourself from him.

"Mediocre at best," you replied, looking away and sighing.

"It's a shame you'll never get to see how brilliant you are," he said, and you just pouted at him, your ego stumbling and huffing it's way to the front of your mind, all of your insecurities crying and shaking together in defeat.

"Stop it," you mumbled, sitting yourself up, tears almost coming again as you shook your body, trying to wake it up so you'd be able to make it back home in one piece. He knew what saying shit like that did to you; you had no way of processing praises or criticism, and you preferred to never talk to anyone about your projects until you were finished with them. His compliments always shook something deep within you; it was a challenge getting yourself up, getting yourself home, but it had to be done. You left his place with sad looks on both of your faces; this whole day hadn't gone at all how you'd planned, and you hated that. San hugged you extra long, extra tight as you stood in his doorway, watching you walk down the hall until the elevator opened, waving bye as your hunched form disappeared from view.

One Year Ago

"Is that the dress you were wearing two nights ago?" Tina asked as you stumbled into her apartment Monday night, your hair a tangled mess from the wind outside.

"No comment," you laughed as you closed the door behind you, setting the bag of take out on her coffee table, leaning down to give her a hug.

"Have you been home since Saturday?" she asked, taking in the look of you, her smile threatening to break into laughter.

"Um, well, no," you answered her, the two of you breaking into a pile of giggles.

"Didn't he have work today?" she asked, struggling to undo the knot at the top of the plastic bag.

"No, he had today off," you answered, taking the bag from her, your nimble fingers loosening the knot.

"So you spent all day today doing what exactly?" she asked you, grabbing her container from you as you handed it to her.

"You know what," you sighed, laughing as you hopped up to grab chopsticks from the kitchen.

"Jesus Christ, genuinely, is your vagina okay?" she asked, a look of pure amusement on her face.

"Somehow, miraculously, yes," you laughed, walking back and sitting down beside her again.

"I am amazed," she laughed, taking her first bite, chewing and swallowing quickly. "When are you seeing him again?"

"I don't know, we haven't set a time or anything," you responded, digging in yourself.

"But it's gonna happen, right? You exchanged numbers and all that?"

"Well yeah, but I don't know if I should see him again," you said, sighing. Tina gave you a look of confusion, making a sound of disagreement through her full mouth. "Titi, I just spent two full days with him, I got nothing done, completely wasted the time away."

"So?" she asked.

"I can't afford to lose time like that, I have shit I want to work on," you said, eyeing her.

"Wait, was he weird in some way?" she asked.

"No, I mean what I said," you responded, eyes darting away.

"No you don't, what are you not telling me?" she asked.

"I-" you hesitated a moment. "I think I'm addicted to his cock," you spat out, looking over in Tina's reaction to find her spitting food on herself, her hand jumping up to her chin to try and mitigate the damage.

"Dude, don't make me laugh when I'm eating!" she said, grabbing furiously for napkins as you laughed beside her.

"I'm serious, though, I'm so serious it's actually ridiculous," you laughed, letting out a cry of pure dismay.

"So he was good? The sex was good?" she said, pulling off her shirt that was now covered in food.

"Yes, it was too good, I- I know now why people can be addicted to sex, this is bad Ti, so bad," you sighed, laughing at yourself as you stuffed another bite of food in your mouth.

"I'm gonna go change my shirt, I'm still listening though," she said as she stood and walked over towards her bedroom. "So, I'm assuming he's huge?" she called from inside the room.

"Uh- yeah," you laughed, a hand coming to your forehead.

"Like, huge huge?" she asked, laughing.

"No, like, just the perfect size. Any bigger and I'd probably not be walking today," you answered her, your cheeks flushing at the image of him naked still playing in your mind.

"And you're somehow spinning this as a bad thing?" she asked you as she exited her bedroom, a black t-shirt replacing her stained one.

"I don't want a relationship right now Ti, we've been over this," you sighed, looking at her thoughtfully.

"It doesn't really seem like he does either, he fucked you within hours of meeting you," she said, sitting back down, tucking a leg underneath her.

"That's true," you said, nodding your head, your thoughts getting lost down all the potential paths this whole situation could lead to.

"You seem really giddy about it," Tina said, a hand on your knee. "Don't beat yourself up for taking this time. You did exactly what I told you to, you need to relax. You can't always be writing, every fucking day. You need a break from it sometimes."

"I don't know, I don't know what I want," you mumbled, stuffing more food in your face.

"You don't need to decide right now," she said, sitting back. "Just see what happens."

"I know," you said, taking a deep breath. "Thank you."

"Of course," she said, squeezing your arm. "I'm just so glad you actually took him up on his offer Saturday. We all had such a good night."

"Was it actually crazy?" you asked her. You'd been stuck in the kitchen the entire time, completely wrapped up in your conversation with San, and hadn't seen any of the huge house or the acre of land it sat on.

"Girl, the garden on the side of the house was so pretty. But I think some people were doing something in the bushes," she laughed. "And the pool was very full, it looked pretty crazy out there too. Inside the house was chill though, Sasha found that man she had been eyeing, I think they exchanged numbers, not sure; me and Maya and Bibi ended up talking to this older woman most of the night who was sat in the living room. She was really funny, said she was a friend of the owner. I have no idea if she was telling the truth or not."

"That's so funny, I'm glad it was fun," you smiled, looking fondly over at her. "I'm so lucky to have you Ti, you always make everything fun, no matter what we're doing. Even though I know you're feeling low a lot of the time," you said.

"It's a good thing you didn't know me in high school," she joked, smiling back. "The wonders of therapy, seriously, that's why I'm the way I am now."

"I should try it sometime, shouldn't I?" you asked.

"Only if it feels right," she answered, but her head nodded too.

It wasn't until Friday that you received a message from him, minutes after making it to work, about to set your phone in your bag and forget it for the night.

{San}

4:48: Hey, how's your week been? 4:49: I just got off work and I'm free most of the weekend, lmk if you'd like to get together

You shuddered at the sight, the two messages popping up one after the other. You'd been simmering on a low heat in anticipation for days, and hadn't expected now to be the time you'd finally see his name pop up on your phone screen. You were in your dressing gown, makeup done but costume not on, and had only minutes before you were meant to be on stage to help introduce a new act being added to the roster. Julie wanted to try something new; introducing every performer at the top of the show, to help encourage customers to stay longer, buy more food and booze, get to know the performers more and have a reason to come back. Your group number had been such a hit, she wanted one now to open the show with, too.

"Mija, what are you doing!" Bibi called from the door.

"Shit, I lost track of time," you replied, shutting off your phone and throwing it in your locker.

"Tienes una cara muy bonita, pero what is this outfit?" she laughed, leaning a shoulder against the wall beside her.

"What, you don't like my new dressing gown?" you joked, eyeing her sideways as you untied it and threw it into your locker, grabbing your costume from it's hanger.

"Why does it have dots?" she laughed, waving her right hand, a look of disgust on her face.

"Hey this is Sasha's old one, blame her if you think it's ugly," you responded, struggling to pull on your shoes for the number.

"I see why she gave it away," she said, smiling playfully.

You rolled your eyes, pulling your costume around and begging her to help you zip it up the side. You slammed your locker shut; you knew she'd been sent in here to get you by Ilya, and that must have meant you were standing by getting lost in your phone much longer than you realized. You'd been asked to grab people from the dressing room before; it was hectic in here, especially when new acts were added and the schedule of numbers was changed. You and Bibi rushed out to join everyone in the wings, as Ilya relayed some new staging information that Julie had given him just minutes before. This whole group number thing was so new, it would be weeks before you all could run through it smoothly. As soon as it was mastered it had been ditched, of course, but that's how things worked around here. Your boss always had a taste for something new, something to spice things up and keep the bar as popular as it always had been.

Everyone was a bit of a mess that night. The performances were sloppy; no one was at their best, and you all knew it, but thankfully it never seemed to affect the crowds of diners and drinkers cheering you on. It was a normal level of chaos, something you'd gotten so, so used to, something that sucked you in and kept you focused, which you loved so much. To be so totally immersed in something was a feeling you'd never experienced before this magical place; never in school, never in other jobs, never in life had you been so enthralled and captivated by work you were doing, learning every crack and crevice of this old building, every single bit of life outside falling away as you ran through the hallways and panted in the wings, helping pin hats to wigs and tape broken props back together. It felt like another world, entirely; your phones in your lockers, relying on each other, it was like a little off the grid city of it's own.

But outside of work, his face wouldn't leave your mind. Every time you'd been in your bed since those two days with him, you'd found it impossible to satisfy yourself. Your own hand just did nothing compared to what his did; even your vibrator didn't feel as good as it once had. It had been a mind-blowing couple of days with him, but in the haze of it all you'd drifted back to your real life without realizing the enormity. It had changed you. Nothing would ever feel the same. And not just when it came to sexual stimulation. You looked at yourself in the mirror differently, now; it was like you were seeing new dimensions of your face you'd never known existed, like you were finding new beautiful quirks that you'd never ever paid any mind. It was intoxicating, the way his words and his eyes and his every move made you feel desirable, breathtaking. You were mesmerized now by your own reflection; you saw nothing but perfection, but genius, but all the things that were just so right. His lack of communication did nothing to break the spell; in fact, it only heightened it, as you remained in the bubble of not quite believing it had happened, knowing deep down that it did, and hoping these feelings growing inside of you would never leave.

It was a stark change from who you'd always been, so you hid it with all your might; this self-confident, self-obsessed girl was not someone you wanted people knowing. The fact that she'd always lived inside you, just now popping up to take control, was scaring you more than you could put into words. It was a devastating sort of realization; this sort of confidence did exist in some people, and you were now one of them. It made you feel happy, feel higher than you ever had, yet it worried you, shocked you, was impossible to accept. This isn't me, you thought. But it was you; you'd stumbled into a perfect mold, snug and comfortable, too revealing in its honest reflection. You were a performer after all, someone who wanted her art to be gawked at, admired, talked about.

You badly wanted to run backwards a week, go back to your simple worries. You wanted to look in the mirror and see nothing of note. But you couldn't stop yourself from running straight through to more of that feeling. You were peeling back the layers, seeing into yourself deeper than you'd wanted to. It had only ever been trauma that had shaken you inside yourself like this. To be feeling so inwardly turned, so stripped back and bare from something that was good, was terribly confusing.

It wasn't until the end of your shift that you remembered the outside world; the man you'd just met, the two simple texts he'd sent you nearly eight hours ago. The feeling swept over you with intensity. You had no clue, no semblance of an idea of what to respond with. It was nearly one in the morning, and he probably was asleep, and even so, he'd waited this long. Why? Was this some sort of game? Were you to become his weekend hookup, the girl he texts only when he's free? It didn't sound so bad, you thought. But you hated that your real life now held more intrigue than your work. You were still waiting to hear back about your latest play; you had worked so hard on this one, poured so much of yourself into it. And really, it should have been all you cared about.

You stumbled out of the dressing room, bag swung over your shoulder, your phone gripped tightly between your fingers. How has your week been? Did he really care to know? If you told him honestly, you were sure you would scare him off; I'm lying to everyone, pretending I'm the same, actually, you'd say. But I feel like I'm diving off the side of a building constantly.

"Hey, we still on for Sunday?" Tina called, rushing down the hallway after you.

"Oh, yeah," you said, nodding as your head snapped back up and your feet slowed to meet her.

"You heading home tonight?" she asked, pushing open the back door to let you both out.

"Oh- uh, yeah, I think so," you sighed, "sorry."

"Don't apologize, you just seem a little out of it. You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah just, feel like being in my own bed tonight," you responded, the two of you walking down the street arm in arm. You were lying, at least a little; you were okay, you were fine, you were just confused, needed space, needed somehow to escape the complicated feelings you were having. Why couldn't you just text him back? What was so worrisome? You jittered as you crossed the street, the flashing red of the walk sign reflecting off Tina's glasses and painting her face in a soft orange.

"No worries hun, have a good night," she said, pulling you into a hug as you both reached the other sidewalk. Just then a bike whooshed past you both, missing you by what must have been five inches.

"Fucking hell," you mumbled, shaking a little more from the adrenaline. "Thank you, love you," you responded to Tina, squeezing her back.

"Love you too, see you tomorrow," she replied brightly, giving your hand a final squeeze before turning down the road towards her place. You walked numbly, slowly, one foot in front of the other as you stared only at the ground. Fuck it, just do it, one part of you said. Hell no, bad idea, said the other. But that intoxicating confidence was calling to you again, and you had a feeling that if you just asked for it, you'd get your way. That too was starting to creep in; a feeling of being in control, of getting to write this story how you wanted to. Nothing had ever felt that way with your real life. It felt stupid to give up on this chance, no matter how nerve wracking, when it was staring you in the face.

12:46am: Hey, sorry, just got off work. Can I come over?

You didn't dare look at your phone as you marched to your apartment, the cool air and hard ground giving you none of the warm, tingly feelings you were needing right now. He could give you those, make all of this worry fall away. Maybe you just needed to see him again, to touch his honey skin, to know that what you felt was real, was true, was all that you built it up to be. You needed to ask him so many things, needed to know why. Why me? Of all the girls that live in this vast city? You needed to take a good look at yourself in the mirror of his bathroom, to see if somehow you transformed into someone else when you were with him.

At home your three roommates were squeezed on the couch, another episode of Nevertheless on the TV in front of them. They'd tried in vain to get you to watch their newest k-drama with them, but unfortunately Friday nights had become your night with Tina, and you just couldn't be bothered to break that tradition for a little show; It was strange that you were breaking it now, but you weren't thinking of that. You were here to change and sneak out again, which wouldn't perturb any of your roommates in the slightest; they'd gotten used to your strange hours and unpredictability, and thankfully taken it in stride without shutting you out of their comfortable dynamic, still inviting you to have dinner, watch movies, play games with them when you could. You slipped behind them as quietly as possible, waving to the only one who looked up, the other two caught up in the mess of couples on the screen.

You resisted looking at your phone even as you undressed, even as you threw on your black sweats that made your ass look amazing, your pink tank that had your chest sitting just right. You threw your hair up into a messy bun; you had to redo it three times before getting it just right, pulling out the right number of strands, making it look as effortless and carefree as you wanted. You repacked your purse, checking for your phone, wallet, keys. You saw your phone screen light up with a notification, but still you resisted, choosing a matching black hoodie and your dark blue sneakers to finish your look. It wasn't until you slung your purse over your shoulder that you pulled your phone out, the screen staring back at you, taking you completely by surprise.

It was an email from your literary agent. You clicked on it immediately, opening the message.

Hey,

Sorry to send this so late, though I think you're probably still up. I just got off a super long call with the director who showed interest in your play, and he said he quite likes it, but he really wants some changes to the character Lisa. He said he feels that for the balance of lightness and dark humor to work, Lisa's lines need to be even darker, to "give space for the actress to really take it there, take the audience to a deep, scary place before pulling them back up again by the seat of their pants." His exact words. He said he's making final decisions about everything by Monday. I don't know how much he was just entertaining me, given how goddamn long our call was. But I wanted to tell you. He said if you can send in an edited version by tomorrow he will read it again. I'm trying to fight for you kid, so I wanted to let you know. I think this story needs to go places. But don't stress yourself out about this, either. There are other halls and other directors we can take it to. Just wanted to let you know in case you have the time and desire to edit things tonight.

Sorry if this was incoherent, I'm not usually up at this hour. Hope you are well.

Millie

"Fuck," you audibly sighed, eyes furiously reading across the page to double check every word. It was now or never; this was the first time any of your writing had gone anywhere, the first time anyone had shown interest. This was the start, you could feel it. You needed to commit, to go all in. You immediately ran to your bag, pulling out your laptop to find your manuscript and start plugging away. Even darker humor, you could do that. You'd held back a little in your last draft; you already had some ideas. There'd be parts that tripped you up, you knew, but with enough concentration you'd make it through.

You picked up your phone again to type up a thanks to Millie, when San's message appeared.

1:07am: Yeah, I'll meet you down in the lobby. You'll be taking a cab, right?

"Fuck," you muttered again, this time for a very different reason.

1:07am: So sorry, I know this probably sounds like an excuse, but a sort of work related thing just came up and I can't come tonight

It was only a minute, and his response came through.

1:08am: No worries :)

It was a hectic weekend, a night filled with writing, an exhausting final day of work for the week, and a birthday party at Tina and Maya's apartment you'd promised to help throw. It was for one of Maya's friends; the small space filled with girls, so many couples, so much love and energy pouring through every inch of the room. In all that, in the rushing around, in the exhausted performing, in the crazed writing and editing spree you'd been on Friday night, no more communication came through from him, not a peep.

Maybe, you thought, it was for the best. When you stared at yourself in the mirror at Tina and Maya's place, you'd seen the you you'd always known. Slight bags under your eyes, eyes red from only one drink. Your brown hair looked flat and a little greasy; all the hairspray you'd been using recently was really doing a number on it. You looked tired, but content; you looked as insignificant as you knew you were, just another human on this planet, someone doing what she could to make herself happy, as hard as that was to figure out.

The next week tumbled by and you spent ample time with Tina; she'd asked you if you'd heard from him, and you'd shown her the messages, shown her the email from your literary agent, told her everything. You played it down; you said you probably had overblown how great he was in bed, because your last few years had been so disappointing in that department that even something decent felt heaven sent. She'd laughed, even though she saw there was something deeper. She didn't want to pry; she figured you were hiding your hurt that he hadn't texted for so many days, that he'd been so chill about you canceling on him. She knew deep down you wished he'd been at least a little upset, shown that he was truly looking forward to seeing you. But she let it go, as you both fell into your normal ways, your grocery shopping and cleaning and tea drinking filling your days off the way they so often did.

The next weekend, you'd almost forgot, was when your mom was visiting. She'd been wanting to for months, and finally arranged for your twin sister Micah to stay with your Dad to help with anything he might need. Your parents still hadn't seen you perform at the bar; you'd moved three hours away, and with your Dad's state of health, traveling even that short of a distance was a massive challenge. Finally your mom was going to see you up there; you'd asked to change one of your numbers to something less sexy, and Julie had obliged, understanding immediately your reason for asking. You modified your costume, too, replacing your short shorts with leggings. Sexuality was never something discussed in your home; at the bar you'd become more and more comfortable with it, comfortably changing in front of everyone and dancing all types of ways to the packed room. In the privacy of your own room, too, you'd managed to find your ways with it. But never around your parents could you consider stepping into that territory.

It was probably why you were so bad with relationships, with sex. You'd known it for a long time; your parents had a very unique relationship, one in which your mom was primarily a caregiver, one in which you were sure physical intimacy was hard. You were never given the talk, never even talked to about periods, or STDs. You'd had to stumble around the internet for your education, which you knew was often unreliable, and beyond the physical stuff, you had no idea how to approach the mental and emotional side of things, how two people could discuss comfortably all the things they were into. With you friends there were only ever light jokes; only illusions to what may be happening behind closed doors. You knew you were so behind your peers in understanding your sexuality, your desires.

Your mother's approaching arrival did nothing but remind you of all of it; any of that sense of confidence, of sexiness, had left you. Your body was locking up in preparation of her staying in your room with you for three nights. Once she was there, the guilt tripping had started. Why haven't you been home since Christmas? The train ride isn't so bad, you know.

It was Friday when he texted you again.

3:32pm: There's another party I'm going to this Saturday up at that same house, if you and your friends would like to come again lmk

There was no question what you'd respond; you had a parent here with you. But his lack of intrigue, his simple directness was making it even easier.

3:55pm: Ty for the invite, my mom's in town this weekend so I can't go, but I'll let my friend's know about it still if that's okay? 3:59pm: Sure, no problem

You stared at those three words so long your mom asked what the hell you were doing.

Sadly, here was no time to wallow, no time to sit and overthink. With your mom in town you were balancing her needs and your work, and it was taking every bit of energy you had. The weekend flew by, though in the moment it felt long, sometimes arduous. Seeing your mom was good, but it was hard; the exhaustion, not only in her eyes but in her whole teetering frame, made you want to cry. She was thinner than you'd ever known her to be, which wasn't typical of other women you'd known post-menopause. Even if she'd always driven you crazy you couldn't deny how good it felt to see her in the audience when you performed, how sweet it was when Julie met her, how the two chatted all night about how much they loved you. You felt like a kid again, like your only need in life was to please the adults around you. You tried your best to cook her all her meals, to not let her spend a single ounce of energy on anything she'd have to be doing as soon as she got home.

"Don't stress yourself out about the manuscript sweetie, those things sometimes take much longer than they say they will. That director is probably still making a decision," your mom said as you walked her down to the street.

"Thanks mom," you responded, giving her a quick hug, sighing. "I just hope it works out."

"Me too," she nodded, taking in a deep breath.

"You sure you don't want me to go with you to the station?" you asked her, separating.

"No, I'll be fine. I don't want to take up any more of your time. It was so good to see you though," she said, reaching a hand out to hold yours.

"You too mom. I love you," you said, squeezing her hand in yours, then grabbing it with both your hands.

"I love you too." Checking her watch she said, "I better get going, don't want to be late."

You smiled and nodded as she turned from you, watching as she disappeared down the stairs a block away, trying to avoid the eye contact of the hoards of people out on that beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Your mom was right, that director was probably still mulling it all over. But it was impossible for you not to worry. You shot off another email to Millie, hoping that just maybe she'd heard something new. It wasn't until Monday afternoon you heard back from her, no new information on her plate, nothing for you to do but wait. But life had it's ways of distracting you. Sasha called on Tuesday to go shopping, and you heard all about the strange few weeks she'd had with that coworker of San's, how she was sure he was into her, only for him to pull back and say he'd never done this before. You both rolled your eyes at that. But then you sighed in pity for him, too. Clearly another case of repression, and it made both of your hearts hurt. The day flew away, capped off at your favorite Taqueria downtown.

"You really don't like drinking, do you?" Sasha asked you, her two empty cocktails shoved off to the side of the table.

"I do, I just have such a low tolerance it's hard to drink like other people. I can't do shots, they fuck me up. Seriously, those two sips of your mojito have me feeling a little buzz," you said.

"Those two sips? God, I wish I had your liver. Would save me so much money," she laughed.

"I don't know why I'm like this, but my twin is too so it's probably genetic," you said, sipping at the last of your water.

"You're a tiny woman, that's probably why," she responded.

"I'm not even tiny though, I'm like super average sized. I don't get it," you laughed.

"Just be thankful, darling. Seriously, I wish I could get buzzed from two sips of a cocktail," she responded.

You thanked her when you went your separate ways, for the much needed day of fun. Making new friends since leaving college had been hard; you were thankful for her presence in your life, knew you relied too much on Tina for company. The short ride on the subway back to your house was fast, the car nearly empty at ten p.m. on a Wednesday. The next few days you slept fretfully; you'd needed rest after your weekend with your mom, but your body wouldn't stop craving more and more from you, your bed feeling less like a place of rest and more a place of physical unsatisfaction. Were you really letting this man slip away? The memories of his hands on you were still so vivid, even weeks later, but you kept reading over his texts, kept seeing so little interest. There were no games, it seemed. There was nothing you could do with that. You didn't want to let him in, didn't want to start that daunting process of opening yourself up, of stripping back the layers and letting someone examine every part. You couldn't do relationships; you'd realized three months ago that you needed to be done with them, to step away from it all. The expectations and dynamics at play with dating were not something you could navigate; you knew you'd probably need extensive therapy before cracking that door open again.

Because of your lack of rest, work that week was a struggle. You didn't like to perform so tired, you worried that you'd hurt yourself. You opted for no heels Friday night as you felt so unsteady on your feet, but you tried to hide it from everyone, saying instead that you wore your sneakers because of a blister.

It was starting to feel ridiculous, the lying; it was starting to feel ridiculous that you hadn't seen him again, that somehow nearly two weeks had passed and you hadn't laid eyes on his beautiful face. But you were so unable to think straight with your lack of sleep that you kept not texting. You'd type out something and delete it, about once every day. Nothing sounded right; for once in your life the written words weren't coming easily.

You forgot how you even got home that Friday; you woke in a daze the next day, nearly three in the afternoon, no clue how long you'd been asleep. You were in the slowest rush that morning, your breakfast taking twice as long to cook as it should have, your legs physically moving so slow you knew you looked ridiculous. But you made it to work, miraculously. You probably should have called out, but you still felt so nervous to do so. And all the weird feelings you were having only made you want to cling to your normal routines more. Seeing the familiar faces, you hoped, would be relieving, and it was to a certain extent. But you weren't prepared for the email you were about to read. Standing outside, waiting to walk Tina home in the breezy air, you saw a notification from this morning, one you'd missed completely in that strange rush.

Hey,

I am so sorry to be sending you this. I met with that director this morning and he told me he loved your re-write, but the hall was just offered a new manuscript from J.F Benton, that hot shot British writer that they're all obsessed with right now. It's another period piece, which they're drooling over, of course. He said his hand is basically being forced by the owner, so he can't move forward with your manuscript at this time. He said he'd keep it in mind. And I know we should keep sending it around, because someone is gonna want it. Let's meet early next week to discuss it all, let me know what days/times work for you. And please recognize what a huge accomplishment this is. If it weren't for that Benton script, I think he would have selected yours. And it's your first attempt with the big halls. You are a remarkable writer kid.

Talk to you soon.

Millie

It was gut wrenching. It's fine, it's fine, you kept telling yourself. But there was no convincing your heart of that truth. You knew what a shot in the dark this all was; you were likely never to make it, never to see a play you'd written up on the big stages. Still, you couldn't help it hurting. It dug so deep into you it felt almost like embarrassment; you walked Tina home without telling her, pumping her up for her date night, doing your absolute best to put on a happy face. Remarkably she didn't really notice your fakery, knew that you were tired and waiting to go home to collapse, but unaware of the despair brewing underneath your wide smile. You pushed it all from your mind; you'd failed, you wanted to forget about it all, to chuck the whole project in the trash and forget it ever existed. You wanted to curl up and disappear; you wanted to live someone else's life.

"Hello?" San's voice rang clear through the phone, his question obvious. Why the hell are you calling me?

"Hey, can I come over?" you asked, wiping away the few tears that had escaped your eyes.

"Uh, right now?" he asked.

"Yeah, if that's okay?"

"Uh, sure, yeah, I'll meet you downstairs."

It all fell away, as soon as you were in his arms again.

"How are you?" he asked, taking your bag and your coat from you again, placing it in his front closet. You were experiencing deja-vu, the cleanly perfection of his apartment impossible to look away from, his hands and mannerisms so very respectful.

"I'm pissed and in need of distraction," you sighed, chuckling as you watched his face scrunch up.

"And I'm that distraction you want, I'm guessing?" he laughed, standing back against the wall with his arms crossed.

"That's correct," you answered.

"You're using me for my body," he joked and you shook your head, biting your lip to try to keep from laughing. "I'm feeling very objectified."

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," you joked back, raising your eyebrows briefly, staring him dead in the eyes.

"I wondered when I was gonna see you again," he said as he pushed up from the wall behind him, walking in your direction.

"You were sure it was gonna happen?" you retorted, shaking your head at him again.

"Seemed likely, after everything..." he trialed off, a hand caressing your cheek, another feeling over your waist.

"Presumptuous..." you trailed off too, his lips meeting yours, the warmth and sweetness as intoxicating as you remembered. He was here, in front of you, he was real and strong and broad. There wasn't a detail your memory had gotten wrong; his hands on your body had you trembling in an instant, his kiss taking your breath away, your cunt aching for him to do all that he had done, all over again. He was taking his time with you; your back pressed against the wall of his front hall, his tongue making slow work of opening your mouth, his hands feeling over your tight tank top and finally snaking under it. His skin on yours felt like burning electricity, so sharp and deep was the pull, your body pushing into his in every way it could. There was nothing in the world that felt like this; not even being at the bar compared to it, the way you were so completely present in your body, so aware of every sensation and emotion flowing off of him, your thigh pressing against his crotch and feeling how hard he was already.

"Now," you mumbled as you reached for his sweatpants, trying to pull them down.

"Huh?" San asked breathless, breaking your kiss for a moment, his hands reaching down into your pants and grabbing at the flesh of your ass, snaking under the thin fabric of your panties and feeling how wet you were.

"Need it now," you huffed, diving your tongue back in his mouth, finally reaching into his pants and feeling over his hard length through his boxers.

"I like taking my time with you," he said, voice tight because of the pleasure, a hand coming up to grip the back of your neck and pull your kiss even deeper.

You whined into his mouth, trying to grind your cunt against his leg, feeling the muscles of his thigh flexing as he pushed into you further, almost crushing you flat. You were totally enveloped in him; nothing else mattered, nothing could touch you now, you were indestructible, immortal, a goddess of almighty power. You'd never felt so connected to the world, so connected to another being, so sure of everything you were doing and it's need to be done.

"Please, San, I need you," you begged breathlessly, stroking him harder as you broke the kiss, squeezing him slightly.

"Fuck, you're crazy," he groaned, his left hand running over your hard nipple, your hair and face already a fucked-out mess. He grabbed you, flipping you around, pulling at the waist of your sweatpants to reveal your red panties, doing everything in his power not to rip them open on the spot. Instead he pulled them down too; just enough to reveal your flushed wetness to him, as he pulled out his aching length, rubbing it up and down your slit before slipping it inside you, it all happening too fast for you to prepare.

"Fuck," you groaned at the stretch, his size a shock all over again. With your back arched and your hands on the wall in front of you, the angle was deep, and he bottomed out quickly with a satisfied groan of his own. You nearly screamed; a sound so guttural, so animalistic, he knew there was no way you were faking it.

"Is that what you wanted?" he asked in your ear, an arm wrapping around the front of you, grabbing your chest harshly and starting to pound into you, not giving you the chance to adjust like he had last time. But you didn't really need it, and that he could tell; your body had already gotten used to this feeling of being split open, and had been craving it for all these days apart.

"Yes, fuck," you cried in response, arching into it even more, his tip hitting that perfect spot inside of you over and over again, your legs already starting to shake.

"You coming already?" he asked with a soft chuckle, his breathing labored as he kept up the punishing pace, his hand now snaking up to rest around your throat and hold your bodies even closer.

"I don't know," you whispered, but your body answered for you. Legs trembling, like a rubber band snapping, it washed over you with sudden intensity and you could feel yourself gushing around him, feel your muscles clenching and sucking him in.

"You're coming all over me baby," he groaned in your ear, his back nearly flush with yours, his hips not letting up as you rode through it all, your whole body suddenly so bright and satisfied with the orgasm he'd just given you. You could feel some of your slick slipping down your leg; you had no idea you could get this wet, and it all felt too good to be real, your moans and whimpers not ceasing even as the last of your aftershocks floated away.

"You good?" he asked you, slowing his movements a bit as he felt the fluttering of your cunt slow.

"More- ple- fuck- please," you mumbled, reaching a hand down between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow deep circles in time with his languid thrusts. He picked up his pace immediately; moving both hands down to your nipples, his mouth moved to the side of your neck to suck hard, all of the points of pleasure adding up to something indescribable. Your moans were loud; so loud it would have been embarrassing if you weren't so in it, if you were seeing this from the outside. Everything that was happening was fucking pornographic; the way you felt another orgasm coming already, the way his cock fit so perfectly inside of you, his voice and his words and every fucking thing about him.

"How the fuck do you feel this good, fuck," he whispered in your ear, and it was all you needed to come undone again; you felt another gush, another strike of red-hot pleasure through your core, your body shaking and melting from the inside out. "Fuck yes, god that feels fucking amazing," he groaned as you clenched down on him again, your pleasure so intense you had no words on your tongue. You screamed and moaned as it lasted even longer than the first; nearly slack even in your standing position, you let yourself be taken by him, as hard and as fast as he would give it, until every bit of pleasure had been wracked from you.

As you came down you grabbed sharply onto his arms, trying in vain to steady yourself.

"I- I can't stand anymore," you giggled, and he chuckled too, helping you stand, then reached down to pick you up bridal style, carrying you in the direction of his room.

"How do you do that so easily?" you asked, chest still heaving with deep breaths, your body still jerking here and there as you tried to process all that had just happened.

"I lift weights a lot," he laughed.

"But I'm a lot heavier than those weights I'm sure," you responded, eyes blinking open slowly as you tried to get a look at his face.

"I don't think you are," he smiled, lifting you even higher as if to prove how easy it was, turning you both sideways to walk through his bedroom door.

"Wait, take me to the bathroom," you said, looking up at him through hooded eyes, needing to know.

"Okay," he responded, smiling down at you; he wasn't sure why you'd asked, but couldn't say no to that face. As soon as you were through the door he set you down, and you walked over to his huge mirror, sucked in immediately.

There you were. Hair a mess, your clothes crumpled and awkwardly pulled in different directions. But that was your face, your flushed cheeks, your chapped lips and crooked bottom teeth. This was the same girl you were looking at last weekend at Tina's, this morning at your own place; but the look in her eye was something altogether unknown to you. Intense, piercing, glittery. It was like you were high on something, feeling better than anyone ever should from just the simple act of looking in a mirror.

"You just wanted to look at yourself?" San asked, your body folded in half over his long wide counter, as you held your face mere inches from it. Your ass was sticking straight out towards him; one foot lifted as you wiggled yourself even closer, your legs barely able to reach the ground anymore. It was like you were deliberately attempting to make him interrupt your little moment; when you only answered him with a quiet mmhm, he walked forward and placed a hand on your ass, the other guiding the head of his now leaking cock into your still soaked cunt.

"I don't think I can come again," you said, pushing your hips back against him, your head thrown over your shoulder as you gave him a sultry look.

"I bet you can," he chuckled, sheathing himself in one swift motion, and once again started thrusting hard, fast, chasing his own high now that you'd tipped over the edge multiple times. The swiftness of it made your head fall back; arched into him at this angle he reached even deeper, no doubt pounding into your cervix, the sensation as blindingly pleasurable as you would have imagined. Nothing had ever been this far inside you, you realized now; you never thought you preferred penetration to clitoral stimulation, but San was making you rethink every single thing you knew. This was better than anything, better than chocolate, better than your favorite book or movie. This was all you wanted to spend life doing; your eyes squinting open to peer at yourself in his giant mirror, his face hard and eyebrows low as he drilled into you, hands gripping onto your hips and low back and making you arch even deeper.

"Fuck, oh my god," you cried as you felt it building again; now you really felt like you were being broken open from inside, like your legs were going to shake so hard they'd fall right off and onto the floor. Your mouth was agape with shock, with awe; you watched his face intently as his breath hitched, as he let out a guttural groan, as a string of words fell from his lips that you didn't understand. Then with one final thrust he held himself flush with your ass, and as you came around him you felt the warmth of his load filling you, the feeling laced with a bit of embarrassment, making it all so much better. He held himself to you for a moment, before bending down over your back and nearly collapsing himself, placing a series of gentle kisses along you spine and making you wriggle with overstimulation underneath him.

"You're incredible, you know that?" he said as he stood himself up, slowly pulling out of you. Immediately you felt it slowly leaking out of you; down past your clit, down the inside of your thigh, all the way past your calf to your ankle.

"Oh yeah?" you asked playfully, wiggling your butt at him, giggling as you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and saw just how crazy you looked. San chuckled and slapped your ass, gently; the movement caused more of his cum to leak out, and suddenly he was reaching forward to swipe a finger through it, moving his hand around in front of your mouth. You reached your tongue forward without thinking, sucking hard on his finger, swallowing the sticky saltiness down, turning your head around to lick your lips and give him heavy eyes.

"Fuck, don't do that," he groaned. "Gonna make me hard again."

It was far too late when you finally cleaned yourselves up, another slew of hours passing you by as you fucked until your bodies couldn't take any more.

"Wait I gotta ask you something," he said as you made to leave, grabbing your purse out of his front closet. "You sure you can't get pregnant?"

"Yes, very sure. The implant is nearly a hundred perfect effective," you said. "You seriously have never heard of it before?"

"No," he shook his head, looking you over with genuine eyes, his hair a bit of a mess still even as he tried to flatten it.

"Are you admitting you've barely been with any girls except me?" you laughed.

"They've all been on the pill," he answered you, giving you a displeased look.

"Ok, well, the implant is pretty common these days. I'm just surprised you've never heard of it."

"I know what a diva cup is," he responded, a small smile on his lips.

"Wow, good for you," you laughed. "Can I ask- was that Korean that you were speaking when you came?"

"Oh- yeah," he answered, looking almost bashful.

"What did you say?" you smirked, holding back laughter.

"Uh- nothing," he laughed, his ears pink as he turned his head away from you.

"Oh my god, did you say something super fucked up?" you laughed, playfully smacking his arm.

"No, no, just, I don't even remember now what I said exactly. It just came out in the moment," he answered.

"Sure, you don't remember," you laughed, rolling your eyes, laughing deeply.

"I- I haven't come that hard in so long," he said. "It just came out of my, I don't know." You laughed as you bit your lip, your eyes crinkling at the corners as you stared back at him. "When am I seeing you again?"

"I don't know, I-" you cut yourself off, looking away for a moment. "I don't have space in my life for a relationship right now, I- I don't even know if that's what you want but I just can't. I don't want to stop seeing you, but..." You tried to gather your thoughts, feeling wildly underprepared for this conversation. You'd come here on a whim, came to escape rational thoughts about real things. "Sorry, I'm struggling to make sense. I just wanted to say I have a very busy life, a lot going on, and my friends mean a lot to me. So I don't have a ton of extra time. But I'd like to keep seeing you here and there, if that's okay."

"I want to keep seeing you too," he said, his dimples popping as he smiled at you.

"We can keep it casual?"

"You're not seeing anyone else, are you?" he asked.

"No, I definitely wouldn't have time for that," you laughed, looking at him nervously.

"Me neither," he said. "I'd be fine with keeping things casual, as long as I'm the only person you're seeing."

His words felt contradictory to you, but then you wondered, does it really matter? What were the chances you'd meet someone else you wanted to sleep with as badly as him? You froze, for a moment; it felt like he was asking more of you than he should be able to, if you weren't dating. This was only the second time you'd been at his place, too.

"Okay, you wouldn't be seeing anyone else either, right?" you asked.

"Of course," he responded, with a slight nod of his head.

"Okay," you said, nodding too. His face had stretched wide into a full smile now; you felt a tiny drop of dread snaking down your throat, but you couldn't tell why. He'd agreed, you'd keep things casual. This was what you wanted, wasn't it? As you hugged him goodbye you were stiff, purposely avoiding your mouth from getting anywhere near his and allowing a goodbye kiss to accompany it. You were leaving, not staying the night, for the same reason. Those were things couples did; you were determined not to let that line be crossed.

But you could tell even then that he wanted more. You barely knew him, yet it was written all over his skin. You barreled on with your plan anyway, so determined to make it work, so sure you could handle whatever was to come. Life had thrown some crazy shit at you over the years; you could deal with anything, make do with whatever hand you were dealt. You knew how inept you were with this stuff, but what expertise did one really need to start casually fucking a guy?

Present

With barely any sleep, you stumbled into the next day. Editing was a nightmare in as emotional of a state as you were in, but it had to be done. You hadn't had the chance to call Tina; you'd been at San's too long and didn't want to bother her more after she'd texted that she was eating fine now and just resting, her and Maya curled up on the couch watching old episodes of Jersey Shore.

You wished you could be her, be as accepting of love and as upstanding of a person. Even in grave sickness she was telling you not to worry; even in that state she wasn't fighting with her girlfriend, wasn't quick to anger or nastiness. How the fuck had she gotten this way? Her life had been more messed up that yours growing up, on top of all the mental health struggles. It all seemed so backwards, and though you knew comparison was never helpful, you couldn't help doing it with all of your friends, seeing again and again how behind you were, how unskilled and unknowledgeable when it came to life.

You made it through the day of editing by eating anything you could find in the pantry; a few granola bars, some instant oatmeal, and a bag of Craisins were all that got you through to the late afternoon, the manuscript close to being ready. You decided you'd take a short break; maybe actually have a decent meal, let your brain rest before a final push tonight to reread the whole thing one last time and send it off. You were about to stand, finally stretch your legs, when you saw your phone screen lighting up, your twin calling.

"Hey," you answered, snapping your laptop closed and shoving it away from you on your desk.

"Hey, how are you?" she asked, voice alight with energy.

"I'm weird, had a weird couple of days," you answered. "How are you?"

"Oh yeah, how's Tina doing?" she asked.

"She said she's a bit better, but she's definitely still sick," you answered.

"Did you get a thermometer for her yesterday?"

"Yeah, we did," you said, before catching yourself. "Me and Maya, her girlfriend," you clarified, awkwardly.

"How bad was her fever?"

"Uh, not bad, nothing to fret about," you answered, the sour taste of guilt on your tongue at the realization that you didn't actually know if that was true.

"That's good," Micah responded, taking a deep sigh. "I meant to call earlier but I was really needing sleep today, do you have a few minutes?"

"Yeah, what's up?" you asked, forgetting entirely what she'd said to you Saturday night.

"Well I've been meaning to talk to you about this, I know that it might sound harsh, I really don't want it to sound that way-" she cut herself off with a sigh.

"What is it?" you asked, but you already had a feeling where this was headed.

"You haven't been home since Christmas," she said.

"I'm aware," you responded, words coming slowly.

"You barely came home all last year, just once in October and then Christmas. Not even for Thanksgiving..." she trailed off.

"I'm aware, what are you trying to say?" you sighed, fighting words badly wanting to jump off your tongue.

"Dad is not doing well, you know the winter is hard on him, but this winter it's just been-"

"Are you just calling to try and make me feel bad?" you finally snapped, sighing hard as you stood dramatically from your chair, your body needing to move all the frustration out of you somehow.

"No, I'm asking you to come home soon, please," she said, her signature sniffle following.

"I wish you'd just say that instead of making me feel like shit first," you said, frustration bubbling through every cell in your body, hot stinging tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

"I just wanted talk to you about Dad, I'm not trying got make you feel bad," she answered, sniffling again. "I'm sorry, I know I could have said that better, it's just been very upsetting seeing him so bad lately, yesterday was not a good day-" she cut herself off with a deep breath, one she always takes when she's trying not to cry.

"It was a bad day for me too," you sighed, still snappy.

"This isn't a competition," she responded, voice harder.

"I'm not making it one, I'm just telling you shit is hard for me here, too. Just because I left doesn't mean I live some fairy tale," you huffed. "No one forced you to stay home and become a nurse and take care of him, that was your choice."

"Yesterday wasn't bad for me, it was bad for him, okay, I'm not calling to bitch to you about my life choices, I'm very content with those, but it's still fucking sad to see my father unable to do certain basic tasks for himself. You're like the only person who I can talk to about this, who actually gets it," she snapped back.

"I'm not a good person to talk to about things," you replied, voice quieter, the rough edge now gone.

"That's not true, you're not usually like this," she responded, sighing.

"Like I said, I've had a bad few days."

"What happened?"

"No, I don't want to talk about it," you said, now pacing your room.

"Something other than Tina being sick?"

"Yeah, something else."

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about it!" you snapped again.

"I'm worried about you, did something bad happen?"

"I just got into a bad fight with- with my friend- it's a long story okay, but it was awful," you responded. "Don't worry about it though, it's fine, it- everything's gonna be fine-" your voice cracked on the last word, the tears coming without warning.

"What happened though? You don't sound okay," you twin answered you.

"I don't, I-" you were cut off by the sound of another call coming through, and you pulled the phone from your ear, San's name lighting up the top of your screen. "Shit he's actually calling me right now, I need to take it."

"He?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, I really need to take this call, I promise I'll come home soon, you can tell Mom and Dad I will. I promise, seriously. I love you."

"Wait, please don't hang u-"

But you cut her off, sliding the green button across your screen that you couldn't stay away from any longer.

"Hey," you answered him, taking a deep breath to try and steady yourself.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, the sounds of the bustling street carrying though in the background.

"Yeah, just had a weird conversation with Micah," you answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, pausing in trepidation. "I just got off work and was thinking, I know you were really out of it last night but there's so much more we need to talk about. Have you finished editing?"

"I- no, I haven't," you sighed, curling yourself into a ball. "I know we need to talk but can it please wait until tomorrow? I really have to get this done..."

"Yeah, it can wait until tomorrow," he sighed deeply. "Listen, the heater at the office broke today, so they told us all to just work from home tomorrow, potentially the rest of the week depending on how long it takes to repair. Anyway, I'll be home tomorrow. So you can just call me whenever you wake up, I'll keep my ringer on."

"Okay, I will," you responded, body shaking as you said it.

"You promise?" he asked.

"Yes, I promise," you said, keeping your voice from breaking, the tears snaking down your cheeks totally hidden from him. They hurt coming out of your eyes; it really felt like you'd used them all up yesterday, and now as you body tried to process all of this emotion, it was totally unable to.

"Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow," he said, sighing in his own frustration, knowing that if you didn't call he'd have to make a decision that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

"Okay," you said, voice steady, keeping up the act. As he ended the phone call you sat hugging yourself on the floor, knees curled up into your chest in the fetal position. Just a few more hours of work; you were ready to let the floor open and swallow you alive, ready to sink into the earth and never look back. But you had things to do, promises you made. As the sun set and your room was enveloped in darkness you finally rose, pushing up your stiff wooden limbs with every little ounce of energy you could muster.

next part ->

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katyswrites · 3 days ago

Text

this love came back to me

PART 2 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use, smoking, allusions to/discussions of smut, reference to virginity, minor angst, references to cheating, Billy Hargrove jumpscare, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 3.8k

Your sister is getting married - and you're thrilled for her. Yes, it means returning to Hawkins, years after moving away. But, as Maid of Honor, who are you to refuse? That is, until you run into Steve Harrington - an old high school flame. It's been over a decade, and a lot has changed - but in many ways, you're both still the same. And, as it turns out, he's invited to the wedding, much to your chagrin. Can you two keep it cool? Or will old feelings come bubbling to the surface?

First loves, broken hearts, and everything in between. A second-chance-romance, and the ultimate reckoning of two old friends. And, lots of champagne-induced antics.

PART 2 | i pictured you with other girls in love, and threw up on the street

July 13th, 1997

You stare up at the ceiling, hearing the house slowly start to wake up around you - your father in the kitchen, making coffee; the shower running, likely for Sarah. Your mother, chattering away to the dog like he’s a person as she makes the bed. It’s always this, the sounds of your family in the morning, that makes you feel like you’ve been thrust back into childhood. From every creak of the old hardwood floors, to the sprinklers starting up outside, it’s home. It’s comforting, if not disconcertingly nostalgic. You sigh, glancing at the alarm clock on your bedside table - 10:57am. You can’t be surprised, considering you were kept up all night - you were already stressed about the bachelorette party you planned going well tonight, and your unexpected encounter with Steve isn’t helping.

Seeing him shouldn’t have rattled you this much, but it has. He seems well, a fact that actually brings you some relief, considering everything that happened to him after high school. Still, it’s strange, seeing him be so different, and simultaneously just as you remembered him.

You force yourself to get out of bed, padding downstairs to the kitchen.

“Oh look! The dead arose and appeared to many!” your mom chimes.

You grumble. “Morning. Coffee?”

She nods, and you make your way over to the pot to pour yourself some.

“So, you went out in town last night?” your mother asks, instinctively placing a plate of toast in front of you.

You nod, spreading some of her special homemade jam on a triangle of toast.

“Yeah - checking out all the places we’re going tonight ahead of time.”

“You meet up with any old friends?”

You freeze for a second, nearly choking on your coffee.

“Um - most of my old friends don’t live in town anymore, Mom,” you say quietly.

“Well, I hope you know that… it’s so nice having you here, and you’re welcome to come back and visit, any time.”

You sigh - you’ve been through this before. “I do come home to visit, Mom.”

“Only for Christmas -”

“I have a life in New York, Mom - a job, a fian-”

You stop yourself, but she hears it. You see the absolute pity in her face, and want to scream.

“Oh, sweetheart - I know these last few months have been hard for you -”

“Please, don’t,” you beg - you knew somebody would bring it up this week, but you were really hoping your own mother would know better.

“I’m just saying - if you ever wanted to move closer -”

“Well I don’t,” you insist. “I’m not only living out there because of…him. I like my life there.”

She just shakes her head.

��Fine - but, it’s okay to still be sad, honey -”

“Well, I’m not,” you insist.

It’s then that your sister, Sarah, saves the day, bounding into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” she says, cheerily. You shake off the conversations and grin as she gives you a big hug from behind.

“How long have you been up?” you ask, eyeing the fact that she’s already fully dressed.

“Since about 7 - went to the gym, had to pick up the namecards for the wedding - oh, and I took Sadie out for a walk -”

You glance at the family dog, fast asleep in the corner, and laugh - Sarah has always been a morning person, so… the opposite of you.

“I love how productive you are, honey,” your mom says pointedly, pouring her a cup of coffee.

You clench your fist, but say nothing, munching on your toast.

“Excited for tonight?” you try to ask cheerily.

“Oh, so excited - you know, I know it’s just a bar crawl through our little town, but it’ll mean a lot to do it with you and all the girls, like old times, you know?”

You nod, offering a smile - Sarah has always been so bright and bubbly, it’s hard to believe you two are related. It’s the thing that makes everyone love her, like she’s a little ball of sunshine. It sometimes gets to be a bit much, but when she smiles at you, you can’t help but feel the need to protect her from anything that comes her way, ever since you were a kid.

“Yeah - I’m surprised you wanted to come home to do it, though.”

“Why not? The whole wedding weekend will be up in the city, and I wanted to visit the old Hawkins stomping ground -”

“Ah, yes - fond memories of blacking out in the alley behind Hag’s Head on Thanksgiving Eve,” you say sarcastically.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun - a night with just the girls, before I’m boring and married. Besides, maybe you’ll even meet someone, yeah?”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself. “In Hawkins? I doubt it, but - it’ll be fun, you’re right.”

*******

She is right - you all have fun that night. Perhaps a bit too much fun.

The night stars fairly calmly - you go to all the best bars your little hometown had to offer - Hag’s Head, Industry, Katie McConnell’s, and of course, Christopher’s. By the time your group had gets there, the atmosphere is quite different from the night before - instead of a middle-aged cover band, a DJ is set up, with club lights and a disco ball, the tables used for serving shitty food pushed aside to make something that resembles a dancefloor.

You, and all of the other girls, are properly drunk. Sarah is in the phase where she tells everybody how much she loves them, including strangers; her friends Nancy and Robin are just giggly, immediately getting lost on the dancefloor when a song the like starts blasting. You order a round of shots, and then another. At one point, you lose sight of Sarah, as she seemingly disappears into the bathroom with her friend Chrissy. The last thing you remember is going out to the back deck for a smoke, followed by another round of shots. Despite the rest of the bachelorette party showing no signs of slowing down, you tell yourself that you should leave early and try to call a cab to get home - things get fuzzy after that.

The next morning, you wake with a pounding headache - the moment the morning sun pierces through the blinds, you groan, trying to block it out with a pillow. After a few moments of tossing and turning, you realize it’s no use.

You sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes - what happened? How did you get home?

You survey your surroundings, your mind still foggy with sleep, and freeze - you’re not in your home.

You realize you’re actually sitting on a pullout couch, not a bed - and still in your clothes from last night.

You stand up quickly, an action you instantly regret, grasping a coffee table for leverage as the room around you sways.

The living room you’re in is somewhat sparsely decorated, with only an old Back To The Future framed poster hanging on the wall by the TV. There’s a couch, a rather large television, a bookshelf, and a little coffee table. You glance around, and peek out the blinds - you’re on a second level, you realize, likely in an apartment building.

You try not to panic - you aren’t injured, as far as you can tell. Beyond the killer hangover setting in, you feel perfectly fine.

A sound from another room makes you stop in your tracks - footsteps, and the sound of glass clinking, perhaps. Your fight-or-flight instincts immediately kick in, your heart pounding. You look around, seeing if there’s anything you can use to protect yourself.

It takes several moments before you settle on grabbing a book off the shelf, the largest one you can find, and you follow the sound of the noise, slowly.

As you get closer, you realize it’s coming from what must be the kitchen, and you hear the sound of footsteps again, and a cabinet closing. You raise the book above your head, ready to strike whoever has seemingly kidnapped you.

You turn the corner, peeking around the doorway, trying not to make a sound. It’s then that you see someone shuffling around the kitchen, and smell coffee brewing. The moment you realize who it is, you sigh with relief, loud enough that he turns around.

“Hey, you’re up - why are you -”

Steve Harrington is staring at the book raised high above your head, brow furrowed.

“Were you trying to take me out or something?” he asks apprehensively.

You slowly lower the book, feeling your face heat with embarrassment.

“Maybe. I thought -”

“You thought what?” he asks, handing you a mug of coffee, simultaneously taking the book from you, gently.

“That, I don’t know, you kidnapped me or something.”

He stares at you for a moment, and bursts out laughing.

“What?”

“Kidnapped you? You’re nearly 30 years old -”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, well, I thought - I woke up in a stranger’s house, and don’t remember how I got here - sorry for being a little cautious -”

He just laughs, turning the intended weapon over in his hand.

“Just you and the Revised 1992 Merriam-Webster Dictionary against the world, huh?”

You want to collapse in on yourself, and just sigh in defeat.

“Steve, why the fuck am I in your apartment?”

He sighs, leaning back against the counter. He crosses his arms, taking a sip of coffee before he speaks.

“What do you remember?”

You think for a moment, biting your lip as you sit at the kitchen table.

“Um - I remember - going to Christopher’s -”

“Always the scene of the crime, apparently -”

“Shut up -”

He does, but he’s fighting a smile, his tongue pressed into his cheek.

“Anyways - I was with my sister, and her friends - I lost most of them, I got another shot at the bar, bummed a cigarette off someone - it gets blurry after that.”

Steve nods, his face contemplative.

“What?”

“Okay, so - I probably found you not too long after that.”

“Found me?”

“Yeah - um - I heard the commotion -”

“You were there?”

He sighs. “Sort of - um - we’re actually above Christopher’s, right now. I rent the place above it.”

You stare at him, the pieces falling into place.

“Oh - so… that’s why you were there the other night -”

He shrugs. “If I want a beer, it’s nice to technically not even have to go outside for it. But, um - I heard some screaming and commotion, and went down there to see what was going on - you had gotten kicked out.”

Your eyes widen.

“I what?”

“Yeah - you were throwing up on the sidewalk -”

“Jesus -”

“- and crying. Like, a lot. Something about - some guy named Billy -”

You feel your heart plummet. Then, you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“What?”

“That - that’s my ex. Um - oh my god, I’m such a cliché! Getting blackout drunk, and crying over some guy - at my I bachelorette - wait -” you think for a moment, “- where the fuck was she? Or any of her friends?”

He shrugs. “Don’t know - I tried to find her, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to leave you, crying on the sidewalk. So… I brought you upstairs. You kept apologizing, telling me to just let you walk home, it was almost cute.”

You want the ground to swallow you up, and never have to see him again, not after that display.

“I - I’m sorry -”

“It’s cool,” he assures. “I pulled out my couch, put you to bed there. I tried to get you to drink some water but you kind of… fought me -”

“Sorry -”

“- so, I just put you to bed.”

You nod, thinking. If it’s possible to die of embarrassment, you probably should be collapsing on the spot.

“And, um - did we - I mean, we didn’t have -”

His eyes widen, and he aggressively shakes his head. “No! Definitely not - you were way too drunk, I - I just put you to bed, I swear.”

You nod - he seems sincere, and horrified that you’d even ask.

“Okay - cool, just checking. When I get drunk, sometimes I tend to -”

“I wouldn’t have let you,” he says, his tone serious.

There’s an awkward silence, and just just take another deep gulp of coffee.

He eventually clears his throat.

“I’ve got, um - Ibuprofen, for the headache -”

“Oh - how did you know -”

“There’s no way you got that bad last night and don’t have a headache.”

You sigh, conceding, because it’s true. He disappears down the hallway for a moment, before returning with a bottle of pills. You watch him move about the kitchen, fetching a water glass from a cabinet, and filling it at the sink. He hands it to you, and you offer a small smile in thanks, swallowing the medicine.

“So… you live here?” you ask casually.

“Yeah,” he says. “I stayed in town to work for my old man, but - I got my own place as soon as a could. Even if it’s a shitty place above the loudest bar in town.”

You laugh, staring down at your coffee.

“It’s not shitty - you just need to decorate more - a Back To The Future poster isn’t cutting it.”

He looks at you like you shot him.

“I’ll have you know that poster is very precious to me, as I stole it from Starcourt Mall before it burned down in ‘85 -”

“Whatever - it still looks like a college dorm in here.”

He just smirks, and dumps the rest of his coffee down the sink.

“You know - you never struck me as the kind of girl who cries over her ex when she gets drunk,” he says, avoiding your gaze.

You sigh, crossing your arms.

“I’m not, usually.”

He stares at you for a moment, and nods.

“You don’t have to talk about it -”

“I was engaged,” you explain quickly. You look up, and see his mouth hanging halfway open, dumbfounded.

“You? Engaged?”

“Don’t sound so surprised -”

“No - shit, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I remember - you were always that girl who was all like, marriage is a construct and it’s archaic and -”

“I know,” you say, cringing a bit at your younger self. “But, I grew up, and my priorities changed - or maybe they didn’t, I don’t know -”

“Why did he break it off?” he asks, his voice a bit softer.

“What makes you think he ended it?”

“Oh - only because - you seemed really upset -”

“I ended it because - I - I caught him in bed with his coworker. In our apartment -”

“Oh - Jesus -”

“He begged me to not call off the wedding, it was only a couple of months away, but - I had to. Nearly 4 years, down the drain -”

“Hey - I’m sorry -” he murmurs, reach out to touch your arm, but you pull it away.

“It’s fine - looking back, he was an asshole anyway, even without the cheating. I just - he proposed, and I said yes, and - I really thought - I’d have a ‘normal’ life. I’m not the kind of girl that guys want to, you know, introduce to their parents, get married to, buy a house with - but here’s someone who seemed to want that, so I just -”

You stop yourself, glancing at Steve. “Sorry - that became a rant really fast -”

“It’s fine,” he reassures. “It sounds like… a lot. How long ago?”

“Uh - about 6 months ago, at this point - I - I thought I was doing better with the whole thing, but apparently not -”

“I mean - it’s okay to still be upset -”

“I know it is,” you snap, causing him to recoil slightly. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. “Sorry - I just - it’s my fucking family.”

“What about them?”

You exhale, exasperated.

“It’s just - I can tell they - they’re all pitying me. They all think Sarah’s wedding will be too hard on me, and - fuck, maybe it will, because I thought the next wedding I’d be going to was mine, but - they keep trying to bring it up, like they’re afraid I’m going to kill myself in front of everyone at the ceremony or something. And - I’m so, so happy for Sarah, she and Peter are perfect together. But, I - I think they’re worried I haven’t moved on, and never will. They keep reminding me that I have a plus one for the wedding, that I should use it, all this bullshit. I thought I was fine, but - I guess last night says otherwise.”

Steve just nods for a moment, and you can tell he’s lost in thought.

“What?”

“Nothing - it’s just - it’s stupid -”

You can tell that the gears in his brain are still turning, and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever it is, spit it out -”

“What if you did have a date to the wedding?”

A beat of silence passes. You just stare at each other.

“What?”

He shrugs. “I mean - I’m already going, so, you won’t piss your sister off with a last-minute addition -”

“Are you fucking insane?”

He laughs. “What? Is it really such a bad idea?”

“Um, yes?”

“It just might be fun, that’s all, and get your family off your back,” he says, holding up his hands in defense.

“I’m not - I’m not going to tell people think we’re together -”

“You don’t have to - just let people make their assumptions. They’ll think you’ve moved on and shit, and… we can just go together, as friends.”

You scoff.

“What?”

“You really consider us friends?” you ask incredulously.

“I mean, what would you call us?”

You don’t have an answer to that - what do you call the guy you were kind of friends with in high school, who took your virginity, and then you didn’t speak to in over a decade until he saved you from passing out in the street? Suddenly that dictionary from earlier feels like something you could really use to try and find the right word.

Then, something occurs to you - if Steve is still anything like he was in high school, that means -

“What’s in it for you?” you ask, crossing your arms.

“Who says there’s something in it for me?”

You shake your head. “No, because there has to be. You’re not doing this out of the goodness of your heart, Harrington.”

He holds your gaze for a moment, then gives in, letting out a deep sigh.

“Fine, fine - I told you I RSVP’d yes to the wedding because, well, Pete’s an old friend, and it’s only in Indianapolis, not too far out of my way. But -”

“But?”

“I didn’t realize Nancy was gonna be there, okay? And honestly, I don’t really love the idea of seeing her.”

“Nancy Wheeler? I was out with her last night -”

You think for a moment, then it dawns on you.

“Oh my god - I forgot that you two used to date -”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t end well. And yeah, I can be mature, be in the same room with her, especially in a crowd. But - fuck, I heard she got engaged recently, and -”

“You don’t want her to seem like she’s doing better than you?”

He nods.

“It’s stupid - I shouldn’t be worried about making her jealous, or some shit -”

“Let’s do it, then.”

He pauses, doing an honest-to-god double take.

“What?”

“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea -”

“I know, but - I never thought you’d say yes -”

“You’re right - everyone will stop worrying all about me if I have a date. And… Nancy can think you’re not still single.”

“No need for the still, but okay -”

“Do you want to do this, or not?”

There’s an uncomfortable moment of silence. He stares at you, as if he’s searching in your eyes for some kind of reassurance. Then, the slightest hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, here’s to - whatever this is,” you say, extending your hand to him. His eyes flick down to it for a moment, then he shakes it, his large, calloused hand enveloping yours.

You pull away for a moment, smirking.

“I think this is gonna be fun, actually,” you say, noticing that his face has become a little pink.

You hear the churchbell from the center of town chime. You glance down at your watch, and your eyes widen.

“It’s noon already? Shit, I need to get home -”

“I’ll drive you,” he says, grabbing his keys from the counter.

“It’s fine -”

“No, I’m driving you. Your parents still live on Soundview?”

“Um… yes,” you reply, shocked he still remembers.

The drive back to your parents’ house is relatively short, and also very quiet. Aside for the hum of the engine and low crackle of the radio, there’s not much to fill the space.

When Steve turns onto your street, you speak up.

“Thank you, again - for saving my ass, and letting me crash last night.”

“Anytime,” he says, eyes straight ahead on the road.

“Well, hopefully that’s only a one-time thing.”

He chuckles, slowing down as your childhood home becomes visible on the left.

“Yeah, well - for what it’s worth, that guy was an idiot for cheating on you like that.”

“I know he was, I’m great,” you reply bluntly, making Steve laugh.

“I forgot that you’re… like this.”

“Like what?”

“Brutally honest. And… very sure of yourself.”

You shake your head, staring down at your hands in your lap.

“I’m not as sure of myself as you think,” you say quietly. Before he can respond, you’re unbuckling yourself, popping open the car door.

“Thanks for the ride.”

He nods.

“See you Thursday?” you ask.

“Isn’t the wedding Saturday?”

“Yeah, but - if you’re really going to be my date, you should probably come to the rehearsal dinner with me. And, the welcome drinks. Plus, I have to get there a day early to help Sarah set up.”

He groans, dramatically slamming his head on the wheel.

“Hey, this was your idea -”

“I know -”

“There’s an open bar.”

He stops, and straightens up, grinning.

“See you Thursday - I’ll come pick you up -”

“You don’t have to,” you interject.

“C’mon - if we’re really doing this little… performance… we should go all-in.”

You sigh, exasperated by him.

“See you Thursday, sweetheart.”

Before you can protest the petname, he’s rolling up the window, and pulling away. You get the message across well enough, flipping him off as he backs away. You see him laugh through the windshield, and return the gesture before tearing away.

Despite your headache and exhaustion, you feel yourself smiling as you close the front door behind you, Sadie barking and running up to you. You crouch to pet her, and hear your name being called.

When you look up, you see Sarah, face etched with concern.

“Do you know how many people we were calling to figure out if you were alive or not?”

You can’t help but laugh in disbelief. Sarah puts her hands on her hips, clearly pissed off.

“What? It’s not funny -”

“You abandoned me at the bar last night -”

“Abandoned? You left before us!”

“Bullshit -”

“You said you were tired and wanted to go home, but we weren’t ready, so you left the bar and said you were calling a cab -”

You think for a moment, wracking your brain to sort through the fuzzy memories.

“Sarah - I was so drunk, I didn’t know what I was saying, there’s no chance I was capable of calling a cab. I - I guess that’s what I meant to do, but -”

“So, where did you go?”

You pause - how do you explain this one? She looks at you, expectantly.

“I - I ended up at Steve Harrington’s apartment.”

It takes a moment for the information to register with her, then she gasps excitedly.

“Wait - did you and him -”

“Well, no -”

But she’s positively beaming, barely listening as she grabs you by the shoulders.

“He’s so hot, are you kidding? He’s like, the only eligible bachelor in this town -”

“Okay, relax -”

“I just - you and him kind of make sense, you know? I always thought you two would’ve been cute together back in the day -”

“Well - I mean, we - it’s not important, because last night -”

But, you stop yourself - Sarah’s reaction does spark something in you - it makes you realize that you and Steve’s silly scheme might actually work, for both of you.

“Actually,” you say, holding her still. “You’re right - I’m going to need you to make some changes to the seating arrangements at the wedding, Sarah. Because… I have a plus one, now.”

author's note: hey everyone! I know this was a very quick succession between chapters... likely, the next thing I post will be the next part of put on your records (and regret me). I have a fairly clear vision of where I'd like this fic to go, but I'd love to hear your thoughts! As always, likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated!

#this love came back to me fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #steve harrington/fem!reader

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amusedatreus · 17 hours ago

Text

Lips of an Angel

You and Sevika had grown too close for her comfort. You leave and then make the first call to her months later.

Smoke rose from Sevikas lips as she exhaled a deep sign following a drag from her cigarette. The weight in her chest sunk deeper and deeper as she looked out at the night sky. A longing for connection. The same connection she had cut off just a few months prior. Now she had one-night stands with any broad willing to come home with her. The short sex with no meaning. Sevika, holding a woman whose name she has refused to remember. Laying still until a soft snore can be heard so she can get up and sit on the balcony of her apartment looking at the vast nothingness above her.

A vibration in her pocket stopped her thoughts. You. It’s as if Sevika had suddenly lost all of her hearing. Memories flooded her brain. The love. The happiness. The fights. She answered.

“Honey, why you calling me so late?” Sevika whispered. A rustling coming from the room attached to the patio reminded Sevika that she wasn’t alone. Soft cries coming from the other end of the phone gained her attention. Sevikas eyes widened at the sound. “Honey, why you crying, is everything okay?”

“Sevika, I miss you.” You hadn’t called since the big fight. Months of hearing nothing made Sevika think you had moved on. Maybe even forgotten about her. The agony of not knowing where you had gone, or who you were staying with.

“It’s really good to hear your voice, saying my name.” Sevika took a breath. A teardrop falling from her chin onto her flesh hand. She hadn’t even noticed she was crying. A rare occasion that Sevika would cry, but it always surprised her when it happened. “I guess we never really moved on.” A joking tone in the older womens voice.

A tone shifted. “Moved on? How could I have? I gave every piece of me to you, and yet it wasn’t enough to be in a serious relationship with you.” You took a breath. “I can’t stop dreaming of you. Of you holding me, kissing me. The way you’d wrap your arms around me when we slept. How you’d come home late at night and carry me from the couch to the bed. The way we’d wake up and just stare into each other's eyes for as long as we could without even speaking. I dream of us every night. It haunts me.” When your tangent was done you realize it was your turn to hear sobbing on the opposite line.

Sevika openly sobbing was a vulnerable thing. Something that you had only witnessed once before. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Was being repeated over and over again. Sevika had shut you out before this moment. She realised that her work was dangerous and tensions were high.

She made it very clear to you that she didn’t want you staying over anymore. So that was the first step, you collected your things and went back to renting a room with your friends. She then started to ignore you when you approached her at The Last Drop. You remember it so clearly. “Just back off.” The words stung as if she had just slapped you across your face.

The two of you had never disclosed a title to your odd relationship, but domestic it was. Was that what had scared Sevika off? The way you wash her clothes, the way you clean the house and cook her dinner every night. Was Sevika so uncomfortable with the thought of somebody caring so much that it made her shut out the only person in the world she cared about?

A shaky breath filled the short silence. “Come to me. Tomorrow. I need to see you.” Sevika said.

“Okay.”

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

Sooooo this is the first thing I have written in literal years. It's a bit (allot) shaky, but I kept listening to this song and thinking of Sevika!!! If you've read this far THANK YOU and I hope you enjoyed this little blurb I've made. K BYE <3

#arcane #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika arcane #sevika x y/n #sevika fanfic #Spotify

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luvs4haechan · 3 days ago

Text

sudden confessions

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff, angst??

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: bff!haechan x bff!reader

𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵/𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: college au, fear of unrequited love, they're oblivious it's disgusting

𝘸𝘤: 2300

masterlist

the soft buzz of students speaking could be heard as you took your seat in the lecture hall. you were determined to attend all your maths lectures this semester - even the 9am ones. looking around you spotted a few of your friends, some still asleep, some on their phone but one person you couldn't see. donghyuck, your best friend, was nowhere to be seen. it wasn’t unusual for him to skip a lecture, especially maths, nevertheless you still expected to find him when you scanned the auditorium. disappointed, you sighed as you took out your notebook and made a mental note to text him later.

the rest of the day went by quickly, going from lecture to lecture, finding some of your other friends later on. it was now nearing 5pm and still no word from donghyuck, which was very unlike him. you were currently in the library with mark, yeri and jaemin, studying (or pretending to) for your upcoming exams.

"hey, have any of you guys heard from hyuck today?" you asked, looking up from your notes. jaemin shook his head.

"yeah, he said he couldn't be bothered for todays lectures." mark replied to your question.

"oh..." you said, confused. you shared a look with yeri that spoke more than words. you weren't even upset, just disappointed and confused. shrugging you went back to your notes, trying to remove a certain brunette from your mind.

you finally got home later in the evening after a (un)successful study session. having had enough university for one day, you decided to make a quick dinner and relax when your phone sounded with a notification.

"movie night?" read a text from donghyuck. you raised your eyebrows, debating your answer. with a sigh you typed back, "be over in 20". knowing that donghyuck was coming over, you included him in your dinner and brought out a few snacks. despite the excitement building inside you, you still couldn't help but feel nervous and unprepared. he makes you feel nervous, yet you couldn't exactly figure out why...

25 minutes later there was a knock on your door.

"puncual," you said opening it. outside your apartment stood a smiling donghyuck with his hands in his pockets.

"happy to see you too, y/n", he said sarcastically. you rolled your eyes and opened the door further to allow him to come in. you walked back to the kitchen, donghyuck following close behind. he leaned forward on the counter, looking at you as you prepared a meal for the two of you.

"so," you started, "what's with the disappearing act?" you said, not turning around.

donghyuck looked around your apartment, clearly avoiding the question, "i don't know what you mean". now you turned around and raised an eyebrow, looking at him incredulously. a small part of you couldn't help but wonder if he didn't show up today to avoid you.

"okay, i just didn't want to go today. we had shitty classes." he rolled his eyes, not meeting yours. donghyuck normally showed up to most of your lectures - more often than you did - he took his studies surprisingly seriously.

"i don't buy it," you replied, turning back to the pots on the stove. donghyuck sighed and burried his face in his hands.

"i just..." he took a deep breath "i don't know, i've been feeling weird." he finally said.

you furrowed your eyebrows, "how do you mean?" you said as you moved to the counter, standing opposite him. he couldn’t hold eye contact with you, knowing you were the cause of his misunderstood feelings. meanwhile you were wondering whether you did something to cause him feeling this way.

"just like...things are changing, and i can't do anything about it. even though, i so badly want to avoid this i just feel like i can't anymore." he speaks quietly, like he's afraid of saying these things.

"you're not making any sense..." you said with a confused expression. trying your hardest not to show it, you started to piece together his words and your heart did a few flips. donghyuck waved his hand, dismissing his words.

"nevermind, i'll get over it." he said, moving over to sit on your couch. you looked at him for a bit longer as he picked out a movie on your tv, before moving to sit next to him with two plates in your hands.

the both of you ate the dinner you made, and managed to finish three bags of sweets. now the two of you were laying legs up on the couch in your apartment.

"i'm going to die," you said dramatically, hands on your stomach "why did you let me eat so much?"

donghyuck widened his eyes, "don't put this on me!". you turned your head to look at him, and he did the same. after a short while the both of you burst out laughing.

"come on. i'll carry you, since it's all my fault," he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and standing from the couch. you smiled at him and outstreched your arms. he carefully picked you up, carrying you bridal style to your bedroom. you suddenly became aware of his hold on you, and how it was making you feel. you felt safe. before your mind could spiral further, donghyuck placed you in your bed. he sat down by your side, tucking you in. the both of you looked at each other for a while, not saying anything. donghyuck raised his hand and moved some hair from your face, causing your breath to hitch. you'd never seen that look on his face. he was looking at you like you'd pieced together the universe and created everything good to ever exist.

"do you want to stay the night?" you whispered. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to have sleepovers.

he smiled slightly, "no, i don't think i should." donghyuck replied, removing his hand from your face. he knew that if he were to sleep in the same bed as you tonight - after slowly coming to terms with his feelings - he wouldn't be able to control himself.

"goodnight, y/n. i'll see you tomorrow, " he said, standing from your bed and making his way towards your door. you laid in bed for a while, thinking back on the strange interaction.

you did not see him tomorrow. you actually didn’t see him for the rest of the week, and you couldn't help but think he was avoiding you. every text you sent him was answered bluntly and without any emotions. inbetween classes, you were eating lunch with all your friends.

"hey what's up with, hyuck? have you guys spoken to him?" you said, looking around the table. some shook their heads, while mark simply said "no, have you?"

you also shook your head, and at that your friends shared knowing looks. you furrowed your brows. "okay, what's with the weird looks?" you asked, confused.

"y/n, you're just slightly oblivious." yeri said with a sigh.

"what's that supposed to mean?" you asked defensively.

"what she means," jaemin said, giving yeri a pointed look "is that you should talk to hyuck. i think you would both benefit from an honest conversation." he finished.

you furrowed your brows further, "can you stop with these criptic messages, and just say what you want to say?" you sighed.

mark shook his head, "not our place to say." you looked at all of them confused, feeling like they know something you dont. "okay..." you trailed off, "i guess i'll go over to his place later on." you went back to your food. a feeling of dread and excitement started brewing within you. could this finally be the time donghyuck returned your feelings? or could it be something totally the opposite?

after classes finished you stopped by your place to pick up all the notes from this week, then made your way to donghyuck's apartment. you heaved a sigh before bringing your hand up, and knocking a few times. footsteps could be heard from the other side, then the door opened revealing donghyuck looking slightly disheveled. there were bags under his eyes, he was dressed in sweats and a hoodie. his eyes widened slightly when he saw you on his doorstep.

"y/n, hi." he said, in disbelief.

"hey? you okay? i came to bring you the notes from this week, and apparently to check on you..." you trailed off, taking in his appearance.

donghyuck shook his head, "you didn't have to, i'm fine." he insisted, forcing a small smile. you nodded softly, looking at him. the two of you stood there, looking at each other.

"can i come in?" you asked finally. the boy before you looked like he was contemplating your question, before he opened the door wider motioning for you to come inside. you walked into his apartment to see his bedding on the couch and the tv paused, it was quite messy which was unlike him.

"i'm really fine, you didn't have to come all this way y/n." he said, walking after you and picking stuff up off the floor.

"yeah, looks like it." you said, placing the notes on the table in his kitchen. you turned to look at him, as he stood behind you with his hands in his pockets. narrowing your eyes you looked at him.

"hyuck," you tilted your head, a ghost of a smile on your face. he looked you in the eyes for a moment, before he resorted to looking around his suddenly very interesting apartment. "what is going on?" you asked softly, not wanting to pressure him.

"nothing's going on," he shrugged, still not looking at you. the brunette was hoping he could avoid having this conversation with you. he hoped that if he didn't show up to any classes this week, he'd get over his feelings and everything would go back to normal.

"something is definitely going on. mark won't tell me, he said it's not his place. you're not looking well-" you said, pleading with your eyes.

"thanks," he deadpaned.

"you know what i mean, you look like you haven't slept in days. you haven't been showing up to classes, even renjun is worried." you sighed, exasperated. "please, just talk to me. you know i'm always here for you. we're best friends, hyuck, and it feels like you've been avoiding me and i can't figure out why." you looked at him, hoping for an answer that will clear up your running thoughts. "is it... is it because of the other night?"

donghyuck suddenly looked up at you. "no! i mean yes," he shook his head. "kind of?"

as he looked at you, he realised that his detachement, that was supposed to help him get over his sudden feelings for you, hurt you more than he imagined. he sighed heavily, knowing he's going to have to tell you the truth.

"look, i just want to say i'm sorry. and i was actually hoping we could avoid this conversation, and that this wouldn't take this long and that everything would just go back to normal." he rambled, without getting to the point.

"what are you talking about? what wouldn't take this long?" you looked at him with furrowed eyebrows.

"me getting over you." donghyuck said quietly, avoiding eye contact. your eyes widened - this was the last thing you expected him to say.

"what?" you breathed out. he finally looked you in the eyes, and you could see all the emotions he had been holding in.

"i really didn't want this to ruin our friendship, you're my best friend and i don't what i would do if i lost you. that's why i've been trying to get over this, but y/n" he chuckled "you're extremely hard to get over." he smiled softly, looking at you.

unconsciously, you had moved closer to him, now standing only a foot away. "how long have you felt like this?" you asked.

donghyuck shrugged in response, "a few weeks, maybe months," he looked at you, ashamed and awaiting your rejection.

"hyuck," your eyes softened, and you took a step closer placing your hand on his cheek.

donghyuck looked down, "i don't want your pity y/n, please," he pleaded, shaking his head slightly.

"i don't pity you, hyuck. i um," you paused, searching for his eyes, "i actually feel the same way." you almost whispered. he immediately looked you in the eyes, searching for any signs of lies or deception.

"are you serious?" donghyuck asked quietly, his eyes showing raw emotion. it wasn’t often that donghyuck was vulnerable with you, usually fighting his own battles.

"one hundred percent," you nodded, a smile spreading on your face. a smile made its way to his own face, mirroring your expression.

"really? are you sure about this?" he asked again, incredulous.

you laughed softly, "i'm so serious, hyuck. i've been wanting this for a while actually." he looked at you fondly, holding that same look from a few nights ago. your own eyes moved down to his lips and lingered for a few moments. donghyuck took a deep breath before moving closer to you and finally placing his own lips on yours. the kiss shared all the feelings the both of you had been holding in for too long.

"is this okay?" he whispered inbetween kisses. your nod was a good enough response to keep kissing you. he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer while yours stayed around his neck. the both of you pulled away after a while, big smiles spreading on your face and his too.

"you really came here to bring me notes?" donghyuck laughed. you leaned your head back laughing with him.

"shut up," you said, leaning back in, feeling his lips on yours once again.

𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘴!

first post!! kinda very nervous but excited. i haven't written in actual YEARS so this might not be that good 😅 let me know and i hope you enjoy! my asks are always open PLS SEND SMTH I NEED IDEAS 🙏🏻

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