#even if i kinda hate her at this point i still would never wish that upon someone
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Last night I had a dream where I confronted my ex and actually started physically fighting her and then I saw the "I saw the the tv glow" bad timeline version of her and that dream was honestly so evil and dark sided I need to change my life or else I feel I may be becoming a horrible person
#dreams#1-4-2025#she was like balding with a combover it was so fucked up whyyyyy why why would my brain show me that#even if i kinda hate her at this point i still would never wish that upon someone
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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.
Chapter twelve ⭐︎ When the curtains call the time, will we both go home alive?
Warnings: 18+ minors don't interact! angst, jealousy, misunderstandings, mutual pining, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of cheating (not on reader), mentions of past stancy, jealous!Steve, slightly mean!Steve (kinda?), smut smut smut, bathroom sex, car sex, fingering, squirting. I like to picture Jacob as Drew Starkey hehe
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Summary: Steve had never handled his jealousy very well, but being jealous over you, brings out a new side in him. He would do anything to keep you, anything.
Word count: 17.4k+
Author's note: I've been waiting for this chapter since forever, jealous men are always my jam, and @hellfire--cult took these ideas to a whole new level, enjoy this filthy chapter. This one is for all my Steve girlies who haven't given up on me after my last story ♡ Roe, I should grant you a thousand wishes at this point, you keep me so hyped for this story. Also this chapter wouldn't have been this good without you, don't even try to fight me
Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter
♡
Nancy’s brows are furrowed in concentration, her pink lips pursed as she looks through the many dresses to find the perfect one, her curly hair is pulled up into a bun, held together by a white scrunchie with pink polka dots, she’s wearing one of the outfits she had gotten on your last shopping trip together, this is only your second time, but it’s fun, you like hanging out with her.
You drove to Indianapolis since Hawkins doesn’t have all too many clothing stores, especially after the ‘fire’ at the mall, you prefer it here anyways, the big city has much more to offer than the small town.
“What do you think of this one?” Nancy asks as she shows you the yellow sundress.
You tilt your head, pressing your lips together as you eye it, not quite liking the way too bright color. You walk around the clothing rack to get to the other side, holding the clothing items that you threw over your forearm a little tighter as you take in the different colors of the dress she’s still holding up.
“Mmm… No, maybe the blue one, Nancy?” You ask, as you point your finger at the baby blue color, when your eyes widen as you catch sight of the purple one, “or, the purple one! That one would look cute, it matches the color of your eyeshadow!”
She smiles at you, nodding excitedly. She puts the yellow dress on the rack, and looks through the purple ones to find her size.
“But you should go for the yellow one if you like it more.”
She shakes her head, looking back at you, “no, I trust your judgment,” she smiles and picks out the dress, “besides, this color is way cuter.”
You nod, a smile tugging at your lips, “yeah, it’ll look amazing on you.”
Her dimples show and her eyes light up a little.
Nancy has been nothing but kind and sweet to you, and you can’t help but feel guilt and regret growing inside of you for the way you once felt about her.
You weren’t only jealous of her because she had Steve, you also hated her for having him, and you’d spent your shared classes with her, staring at her and comparing yourself to the girl he loved so dearly – the girl he still loves. You were never rude to her or mean, you never glared at her or threw comments at her the way other girls did, after Steve had humiliated her in front of the whole town, despite your feelings for him, you did feel disappointed for what he had done, even when you didn’t even like her, at that time.
“You should try this one on!” Nancy pulls you out of your thoughts, a grin on her face as she holds up a black dress – a daring black dress. It’s short and flowy, the straps are thin, it’s low cut with a dainty bow on the front, the back very exposed. “You could wear this one to Vickie’s party.”
A smile tugs at your lips, you step forward and slowly reach your hands out to take it from her.
“You will look hot in it,” Nancy wiggles her eyebrows at you, nudging her shoulder against yours as she brushes past you to look for more dresses, “I’m sure I won’t be the only one who thinks that,” she says in a sing-song voice.
Nancy had been very persistent in trying to get you to go on dates. The last time you went out together, the Barista at your local coffee shop had put his number on your takeaway cup after giving you the order for free. She tried to convince you to give him a call, gushing over how sweet he was to you and how he looked at you, and yeah, he was sweet, he was very good looking too, and maybe you would’ve given him a call if things were still the same they were months before this. Yeah, you would’ve definitely given him a call, but only to forget about the certain someone who woke up in your bed this morning. Whose bed you will go to sleep in tonight.
As you stare at the dress, all that you can think about is Steve, and how he will react to seeing you in this.
Will he think that you’re pretty?
Will you look irresistible to him?
Will he want to tear it off of you?
After all, he does like your dresses, your sundresses especially, you see the way his eyes darken whenever you step into his house with a new one on your body, like he is ready to rip it to shreds and devour you for the next few hours or so, and he usually does, sometimes he doesn’t even take it off, and only pushes it aside, bunching it around your waist.
This sundress is by far more revealing than any of the other ones you have worn before. Excitement bubbles in your stomach as you think of his reaction to it.
You are definitely getting it.
After taking forever to pick out what clothes to keep in the dressing room, you both make your way out of the store with full bags, stuffed with new summer clothes. You stroll around town for a while, looking for new jewelry and shoes to go with the dresses you both bought.
You never realized just how much you missed having a girl friend to do these things with, until you sit down at a cute café to eat some late lunch. It’s something you always used to do with your childhood best friend, that you always try not to think of, too painful are the memories of Chrissy and how you couldn’t be there for her, how you couldn’t save her. You always wondered if things would have gone differently had you both not drifted apart the way you did when you both went separate ways.
But it’s no use to overthink about it, you won’t ever find out.
“Funny how we’re shopping for clothes, when a few weeks back we were fighting for our lives against something the whole world doesn’t even know about,” Nancy says as she looks over the menu.
“Yeah,” you nod with wide eyes, glancing up from your own menu to look at her, you realize that you never asked how she got involved in all of it, in the first place.
You clear your throat, “I never asked… how did you get involved?”
She raises her brows at your question, taking a deep breath before she puts down the menu.
“I–It was when Barb went missing, right after Will… What the police said about her wasn’t right, I knew my Barb, so I looked into it all, and I dragged Jonathan in with me because he was looking for his brother, only to find out that my brother and all of his friends were in it too…” She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips.
You laugh a little, shaking your head.
A shiver runs down your spine as you think of how long it had all been going on in the shadows, how long you had been unaware of the Upside Down and the existence of monsters, how children were involved in something they shouldn’t have been.
“And then, poor Steve… He showed up at Jonathan’s place when we tried to lure in the Demogorgon, he almost ran off… but he came right back to fight him with us.”
You know all about it, Steve told you how he fought the Demogorgon with Nancy and Jonathan, how he had been dragged into it all by accident, how he helped Dustin find Dart, how he protected the kids and climbed into the tunnel after getting beaten by Billy.
You know most of what happened, not only from Steve, but also from Robin, but you feel intrigued, you want to know more… from her.
Something flashes in her eyes, a look of guilt, a look of regret.
You know exactly what she’s thinking about, and you know that you shouldn’t bring this up, but your curiosity gets the best of you.
“I-I was at Tina’s Halloween party.”
Nancy winces at that, she doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your words, just… regretful of the memories that night brings her.
You remember the night just as well as she does. Steve had bumped into you after he rushed out of the bathroom you didn’t even know he was in with Nancy, he glared at you and nudged your shoulder harshly, he rudely told you to move out of his way and murmured some incoherent curse word at you.
You remember how deflected you felt, all night you had avoided him only to bump into him in his worst moment.
Everyone knows what happened that night, not in full detail, but it doesn’t take a genius to find out what happened between King Steve and his girlfriend after he had stormed out of the house without her, and she left with Jonathan instead.
Word traveled around, rumors circulated, but you didn’t listen to them, it wasn’t any of your business, and it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened anyways. Just as Steve and Nancy’s relationship ended, she showed up to school, holding hands with Jonathan. Clearly, something happened between them long before her relationship with Steve had ended.
Steve hated you, but your heart broke for him still.
It was so very obvious how much he loved her, and you can imagine how much it hurt when she cheated on him, and left him and his heart in shambles.
“I-I will never forgive myself for it. No matter if– he did forgive me. I was horrible to him, no amount of apologies can take away the guilt I will forever feel.”
“W-What happened?” You ask nervously, not wanting to overstep but still feeling the curiosity tugging harshly in your chest.
She sighs, looking around the bustling street before her eyes move back to yours.
“I-I always blamed him for what happened to Barb, I should’ve gone home with her that night, but I didn’t, even though I promised I would. I went with him, a-and the Demogorgon got her,” she explains, shaking her head a little as she closes her eyes, “it wasn’t Steve’s fault, not at all, but I-I blamed him and every time I looked at him, I just thought about her and what happened to her and how things would’ve gone differently if I didn’t leave her that night, if I didn’t went with Steve.”
You dig your nails into your palms, swallowing harshly as you watch her.
“He was good to me, he was there for me, b-but I couldn’t stand him sometimes, and how he tried to act like everything was normal, when it wasn’t.”
The feeling of irritation sparks inside of your chest, crawling into your bloodstream.
“And then, the Halloween party… I just, I was still grieving and I was angry, I let it all out on him, I should’ve handled things differently, I shouldn’t have been so harsh but… I-I called him bullshit,” she confesses to you, scrunching up her nose as she cringes at her own self, “and then I confessed my true feelings for him and our relationship.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, the anger that you are holding back after those leave her mouth. Bullshit.
How could she do that to him?
How could she hurt him the way that she did?
How could she call him that?
You can tell that it takes a weight off her shoulders, that it’s something she hasn’t talked about since it happened, not to Robin, not even to Jonathan, because after these words leave her mouth, she takes a deep breath, and her body relaxes as she leans back in her seat.
Her face is edged with shame, but also with relief to finally be able to let it out.
And you try, you really try to hide your own feelings, the anger, the hurt that you feel for the man that you hold so dearly in your heart.
You feel thankful for the waiter who interrupts your thoughts, he places the drinks that you ordered on the table, and reaches for his notepad, taking Nancy’s food order first.
You take a sip of your iced tea and you watch her for a moment, reminding yourself of how long ago it was, how much she changed, how much he changed, how it’s none of your business, how you shouldn’t feel angry at her, even when she’s the one who hurt him, when she’s the one he still wants, despite what she did.
He would take her back in a heartbeat if she came back to him, and the thought breaks your heart.
But you can’t help but keep dancing around the topic, so after the waiter takes your order and leaves, you ask her something you’ve been wondering about for weeks now.
“Do you… regret it? Do you sometimes wish that things between you went differently?”
She leans her elbows on the table, placing the straw between her lips, she takes a sip of her drink before she leans back again.
“The only thing I regret is how I led him on, I wish I could go back, and lay it all out on him in a different way… Explain to him why… I didn’t feel that for him, give him a reason instead of making him think that he’s damaged.”
She cared about him, you can see it in her eyes, you can hear it in her voice. She cared, even if only poorly.
“I see,” you nod, trying not to sigh. “And… well– when the whole thing with Vecna…” You pause as you feel the weight on your chest crushing you with nervousness.
She tilts her head at you, “what?”
Heat rushes to your cheeks, you lick your lips as you look around, watching the people in the busy street across the café for a moment, before you return your gaze to her.
“Well… It was noticeable you know… and then… you two weren’t exactly quiet in the RV,” you mumble, trying not to sound bitter as the day catches up to you, what Steve had said to Nancy, how he looked at her, how she looked at him – and the rude things he said about you before the white picket fence conversation came up.
Her eyes widen a little, cheeks blushing a deep red as she looks down sheepishly.
You don’t know what you had expected, but you certainly didn’t wait for her to blush, it makes your stomach clench uncomfortably.
“I–I was just hurt because of Jonathan. Feelings are cunning, evil… I was angry, and I think my heart and mind looked for where I could find comfort.”
Oh, how ugly the feeling in your chest now is, how bitter the taste on your tongue is, how the sweetness of your drink does nothing to make it better, because you know, you know that you wouldn’t be sitting here now if Jonathan didn’t come back, you wouldn’t wake up in Steve’s bed or fall asleep in his arms.
Because she would be the one.
You knit your brows together as you stare at her, “but Steve–”
“I know but… I think it was just a heat of the moment kind of thing.”
You physically have to restrain yourself from clenching your jaw or rolling your eyes. So, you look away for a moment, staring into a blank space as you try to calm your breathing.
Heat of the moment.
You want to scoff and laugh at her words, because telling your ex-girlfriend that you want to have six kids with her is totally, a heat of the moment kind of thing, right.
You’re very well aware of the jealousy that is boiling inside of you, worsening every passing second, and yet, you can’t help but want to fuel the fire even more, and find out what she would’ve done if she needed more comfort.
So when you look at her back, you ask, “so… if you were still hurt and Jonathan didn’t come back…?”
You see the way she freezes, the way she hesitates, the way she takes way too long to answer your question.
“I-I don’t think that I would’ve been with Steve again… Even if my urges and desires told me to… That’s the only thing they were… desires or… attractions. I wouldn’t want to hurt him again and give him the idea that there’d be a chance for a future,” she sighs, shaking her head, “I’m not the one. I’m not the woman for the future of his.”
You don’t know whether to feel sad for Steve or yourself.
She is that woman.
She is the one, the only one that he wants in that way, so why is she denying it?
The question lingers in your mind and you can’t help but wonder, what would happen if she stopped denying it? If her feelings were more than just desire after all? If she came back to him?
There is no doubt about what he would do.
You’d be nothing but a faint memory the moment she’d come back.
You’d no longer occupy her space in his bed.
You’d no longer be the one he’d kiss, touch, feel.
And you, you would step aside without a moment of hesitation, because despite your feelings for him, you would want him to be happy, and you know that he would never get that with you.
“Besides, I don’t want to be. Steve was my first boyfriend, puppy love,” she chuckles. “It’s different with Jonathan, I want him in my future, a-and I’d honestly take any future with him,” she says, as a soft smile creeps on her face, “I didn’t love Steve but, I love him,” she says truthfully and honestly.
She isn’t someone you have to worry about.
She isn’t someone who will take your temporary space, at least not now, not anymore.
But you still can’t find peace within you after this conversation, you can’t push aside the thoughts of him, of how much he still wants her, of how much he still loves her, of how much he wishes to be with her again, and it upsets you, even when it shouldn’t.
So, when you come home, you throw your bags on the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, you pick up the telephone and you call him, coming up with some weak excuse as to why you can’t see him tonight.
You want to see him, but you wouldn’t be able to control your feelings, you wouldn’t be able to hide the pain in your eyes. If Nancy wasn’t with Jonathan, she would be with Steve, and he would choose her, then and now.
You heard the sigh on the other end, the disappointed ‘okay… bye, Blondie.’ before you hung up the phone abruptly.
You want him, you want to be with him, you want to feel his touch, his hands on your skin, his lips on yours, and yet, you don’t at the same time, because right now, it would just hurt too much.
You need to calm your anxious thoughts, or you will give yourself away completely.
-
Two days.
It’s been two whole days since Steve had last seen you, and both his mind and his body were going crazy over the lack of you.
When you had called him on Wednesday evening, he was already waiting for you, giddy and excited for another night with you, but when you announced that you wouldn’t come, he felt deflected, a little crushed even, but he understood, you sounded tired and like you needed your rest, so he didn’t even try to convince you to let him come see you.
But the next day, there was no trace of you either, you didn’t call, you didn’t visit him at work, you didn’t come over, and when he tried to call you, you didn’t pick up the phone, you also weren’t home, your car wasn’t in your driveway, you were gone. And it made him feel… weird.
Because where were you?
You had never done anything like this before, always eager and ready for him, but never this.
He craved you so terribly, he wanted to see you, he wanted to hear your voice, to feel your touch, to feel your body beneath his.
He longed for you, and two days away from you, only showed him just how much of a hold you have over him.
The past two days went by so slowly, it was almost agonizing – just like the terrible music that blasts through Vickie’s house as more and more strangers make their way into her home, filling the empty spaces.
With his back against the wall, Steve stands there with his arms crossed over his chest, a bored expression on his face as he nods along to Eddie’s rambling about some band he had never even heard the name of, occasionally putting on his meanest face to glare at the people who give Eddie dirty looks. He can’t stand them.
He takes a sip of his coke, looking around the crowded room in search of you.
He knows you’re here, but he has yet to see you.
You came with Eddie, but while the latter instantly came to find him, you apparently left to find Robin, who he hasn’t seen in a while either.
He has been here for at least two hours now, and he is beginning to grow restless, wanting to just push himself away from the wall and go find you.
“--And I can’t wait to see them live, man! No more headbanging in my room,” Eddie laughs as he sips on his beer. “Judas Priest is sick! You gotta come with us, I’m sure Gareth won’t mind.”
“Mmm.” Steve nods, glancing at Eddie with a plastered smile on his face, he feels a bit bad for not listening to him, but Eddie doesn’t seem to mind, he continues talking.
Steve cranes his neck, looking into the kitchen, then into the hallway, and out into the backyard, trying to catch a glimpse of you, but all he sees are people he doesn’t care about.
The music is starting to give him a headache, and the smell of liquor and weed is beginning to make him feel hazy. He's not drinking, he’s got other plans that hopefully won’t be canceled tonight but the more time passes, and there is still no trace of you, his hope is beginning to dwindle, because a part of him starts to believe that you are doing this on purpose, not showing yourself to him.
Are you avoiding him?
The thought makes his chest ache weirdly, a feeling that he can’t even describe floods through his veins.
He doesn’t want you to avoid him, he doesn’t want you to stay away from him, he doesn’t want you to get bored of him.
“I got Robin to listen to my mixtape, you’re next, I’m telling you, you’re gonna be a metalhead in no time,” Eddie chuckles, bumping his shoulder into his, he pulls Steve out of his thoughts.
“Huh?” Steve furrows his brows at him before a forced laugh falls from his lips, “y-yeah, sure.”
Eddie snorts, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a single word he just said and still agreed. A smirk tugs at his lips, he tilts his head, “so, you’re gonna listen to it?”
Steve nods, pursing his lips as he scratches the back of his neck.
“Promise?” Eddie asks, almost cackling.
“Yeah, promise,” Steve shrugs.
Eddie shakes his head, bringing his beer up to his lips, “you’re gonna regret that,” he murmurs against the glass before he takes a sip.
Steve hates the music Eddie listens to, he’s hated every song he has shown him so far, but Eddie will take that promise in satisfaction, knowing that Steve never breaks any of his promises.
Eddie takes a look around the room, recognizing a few people from school, some of whom have already graduated the year before. The guy by the snack table is the one who catches his attention the most, he squints his eyes as he takes a better look at him – tall, dark blond, lean, the gold ring that he always wore on his middle finger, still in place. Jacob Leeney.
He hasn’t seen him since last year when Jacob was back from college for the weekend, the same weekend you made this guy lucky.
He wants to make a joke to Steve about it, knowing that he hates the football captain’s guts, when from the corner of his eye, he notices how Steve stands up straighter.
Every hope that began to dwindle, comes back in a rush when Steve sees you for the first time in two days.
You walk into the room with a drink in your hand, a smile on your lips that grows brighter when your eyes lock with his.
His own eyes light up at the sight of you, something in his chest swells with a feeling he grew unfamiliar to. His lips curl into a smile as he stares at your face for the longest time, before he lets his eyes roam your body, the exposed skin that isn’t covered by the pretty dress that you’re wearing, begging for his attention, begging to be marked up by his lips and to be touched by his hands.
If only he could look into his own reflection to see just how awestruck he looks at the sight of you, how you lit up the whole room for him with your presence. If only he was focused on the beating of his heart or the fluttering in his stomach, the butterflies he thought were long gone, rising back up and filling him with life.
Your skin is glowing beneath the dim fairy lights, your glossy lips that he craves to feel on his own, looking even more kissable than usual, and he already begins to count down the second until he can actually feel them.
You start making your way over to him, the platform heels that you’re wearing making you look taller than you are.
Steve licks his lips, having to fight the urge to just meet you halfway, throw you over his shoulder and get the hell out of here so he can have you all to himself.
Your eyes are locked with his, a blush creeps up on your face and you grow flustered beneath his stare, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you raise your hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear – good, nothing changed in those two days.
His excitement grows, the closer you get, he has nearly all forgotten about his friend next to him, about the other people in this room, but the reminder that it’s not just you and him in this room, catches up quickly, when the smile falls from your lips and your eyebrows furrow as a hand on your upper arm stops you, not enough to startle you, but enough to make you turn around in and look away from him.
Steve’s own smile falls, and he straightens his back even more.
He no longer sees your face, your expression or your reaction, but he sees him, Jacob Leeney. And the sight of him alone, is enough to turn the fire that you lit up inside of him, into raging flames. – And not because of the rivalry that was once between them, but because of what he had found out about you and the football captain not too long ago.
Steve can’t hear what he’s saying to you, but the smile, the smirk on Jacob’s face makes his blood boil. The look in his eyes as he stares you down, making him clench his jaw.
He pulls you into a hug, hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades, but not quite staying there, he moves it lower and lower until it rests dangerously low on your back as he hugs you for longer than necessary.
“Damn,” Eddie mumbles from beside him, “Leeney’s about to get another best fuck of his life,” he chuckles, repeating the words that the jock had said to him months back.
And it does little to calm Steve down.
“I mean, unless they’ve seen each other this week before, I heard that he was back in town… a few days ago,” Eddie shrugs, watching him closely.
He watches the way you take a step back, putting distance between you and Jacob after you pull away from the hug, but his hand lingers, not on your back anymore, but now on your elbow as he taps his fingers against your skin, talking to you with a look on his face that gives away his intentions. The sparkling in his eyes matches the one of his own, he wants you, he wants you badly. The interaction between you seems so… trusted, intimate.
And then, Steve registers what Eddie had said to him, just now.
A few days ago.
Steve freezes.
The cold shudder that runs through him, weakening the flames that just ignited.
Is that why you canceled your plans with him?
Is he the reason why you haven’t called?
Did you stand him up for Jacob?
Were you with him?
Did you let him kiss you?
Did you let him touch you?
Did you forget all about him?
He can’t decipher his own emotions at this very moment, too many are running through him, anger, frustrations… and a very ugly emotion that he won’t admit to feeling.
He takes a deep breath, unable to hide the frown on his face as he watches you.
Steve knew it, he knew that his own rule would come to haunt him, and he suddenly feels a deep regret for suggesting the inclusivity that allows you to see other people, he doesn’t want you to do that, he doesn’t want you to see other people, he wants to be the only one for you.
He is watching you, so closely, so intensely, glaring at the touchy man in front of you, like he’s ready to light him up with his own eyes for putting his hands on places only he should be allowed to touch.
Eddie slaps his shoulder, “I’ll be right back,” he announces before he scurries away from Steve who refuses to tear his eyes off of you.
He continues to watch you like a hawk, eyes not straying away from you and the man before you, and despite the intensity in his gaze, he is blind to your reactions, to the subtle, tiny steps you take to put distance between you and Jacob. All that Steve can see is the burning red that flashes in his eyes every time he touches you.
He sees the way your shoulders shake from laughter, the way you brush your hair back as you tilt your head up to look at him.
And the more time passes as you stand across the room, spending time with someone who isn’t him, he begins to grow impatient, restless.
You should be here, with him, by his side.
And he wants to show you that the only one you need is him. So, without a second of hesitation, he slams his drink on the table, and he lets his feet carry him over to you, no longer wanting to stand there and watch how someone else might steal you away from him, he won’t let it happen.
He let it happen with Nancy, he probably would’ve let it happen again if he was still with her, if this was her with Jonathan in front of him, he would’ve looked the other way, despite the aching in his chest.
But you aren’t Nancy, and his feelings, his reactions, his action that he’s about to take, didn’t fully sink in yet.
Once he is in earshot, Steve hears Jacob’s annoying, flirty voice.
“You’re the prettiest girl at this party.”
Your giggle follows, and it makes Steve’s skin crawl – if he wasn’t so driven by jealousy, and blinded by anger, he would’ve heard how fake it sounded.
“Oh, I don’t think so.”
Jacob chuckles, opening his mouth to speak, to throw some lame pick up line at you, probably.
But Steve doesn’t let him. Stepping up beside you, he places his hand on your back first, before he slides it down to your waist, gripping it tightly. The feeling of your body beneath his palm, your warmth and the way you melt into his touch after you turn and tilt your head to look at him, makes his stomach flutter pleasantly.
You step closer to him, relaxing further when he squeezes you with his large hand, though your eyes are wide and your lips are parted as you stare at him.
Right now, he can’t even find it in himself to care that your friends could see the intimacy between you and him, all he cares about is you and dragging you away so he can finally have you all to himself.
“Can I talk to you?” He asks, calmly.
Your wide eyes spark with curiosity as they look into his own, your glossy lips parting further for him as you come up with words, only to be cut off by Jacob.
“Oh hello, Harrington, long time no see!” The jock grins.
Steve clenches his jaw, but still turns to face him, biting back the distaste on his tongue, he nods at him, “yeah, yeah man, I’ll take her for a minute, okay?” He mumbles with squinted eyes and a fake smile on his lips as he points to you.
Before the blond can even respond, Steve’s hand leaves your waist, and moves over to your wrist. He grabs your much smaller hand and holds it tightly, giving it a squeeze as he pulls you away and begins to walk, basically dragging you out of the room, and you don’t protest, you follow him, without a single word, slamming your drink on the counter on the way out.
You both walk into the crowded hallway, and he pulls you closer to him when you pass by a group of guys who are talking rather loudly. He pushes you towards the stairs, bringing your hand up a little as he gets behind you.
He doesn’t even bother to look out for your friends, they aren’t on his mind right now and he finds himself not caring about who could see you together. He also doesn’t care about one of his many rules that he is about to break when he pushes you into an empty bathroom.
You switch the light on and let go of his hand when you walk in further.
Steve turns around to close and lock the door, his fingers linger on the handle as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“What’s wrong, did something happen?” You ask.
He opens his eyes again and turns around to face you, he raises his hand up, running it through his styled hair, he licks his lips as he lets his eyes roam your body for a second, taking a better look at the dress he hasn’t seen on you before, it must be new.
The light that shines on you from the ceiling is golden, making your soft skin glow, making it look even more delicate, more desirable. Your chest rises up and down heavily, a worried expression etched in your beautiful features as you stare at him with furrowed brows. Your pouty lips parted.
Can he blame Jacob for trying to go after you? Not really.
“Nope, nothing happened,” he mumbles as he makes his way over to you.
You shake your head a little, frowning, “then why–”
He practically lurches forward, cupping your cheeks, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, the way he wanted to, all night.
You squeal in surprise, a noise that only fuels his lust even more, prompting him to deepen the kiss roughly. He can taste the sweetness of rum and pepsi on your lips, the strawberry from your gloss, he can taste you, he can smell the intoxicating scent of your perfume, he can feel your arms around his shoulders now as you start moving your lips against his, picking up the pace to match the speed of his own.
He moans when your fingers get lost in his hair and your nails graze his scalp as you try to pull him closer against you.
He licks your bottom lip, parting it with his tongue so he can slip it into your mouth. You let him. His palm slides down to your jaw, he holds it there for a moment as his other hand moves down to your hip, gripping it tightly as he presses you against the counter behind you, fingers now playing with the flimsy material of your sundress.
A needy moan blesses his ears, the delicious sound rushing to his cock, making it stir in his pants that are now getting way too tight around his groin.
You place your hand on the back of his neck as you place your other on his chest, pressing yourself further against him as you kiss him with whimpers and a neediness that he thought only he was feeling.
God, he missed you.
But, did you miss him?
Did your lips touch someone else’s when you weren’t with him, where you were supposed to be?
The flames that are still raging inside of him, sparking a new kind of anger in him at the thought of it, it prompts him to do something that he has never done before – he bites your bottom lip, making you wince and moan at the pain.
He pinches your chin between his fingers, pulling away from the kiss to look at you.
With furrowed brows, you open your eyes to look at him, leaning back in to steal a kiss, but he keeps you in place, ignoring the whine that falls from your lips.
“Jacob Leeney, huh?” He mutters, instantly clenching his jaw after saying that name out loud. “Why did you talk to him, hm?”
Steve moves his hand under your dress.
“W-What?” You ask, shakily. “He was just talking to me about college.”
Right. That is the reason why he looked at you like he was ready to tear your dress off and devour you, right then and there.
“Right,” he mumbles, gritting his teeth in anger.
You stare at him with a frown on your face, tilting your head a little as you reach your hand up to wrap it around his wrist. And then, realization flashes in your eyes and your lips twitch a little.
“You plan on fucking him tonight, Blondie?” He sneers, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.
You raise your eyebrows, pressing your lips together, he watches the way your throat bobs as you swallow.
The silence between you is nearly deafening, he can feel your breath on his thumb as he still holds your chin, he waits for you to answer his question.
Your eyes crinkle, and your lips curl into a smile before you suddenly burst into giggles, making his irritation feel worse than before.
Steve’s muscles tense up and he bites the insides of his cheeks, pressing his knee in between your thighs, he holds you tighter.
“Why are you laughing, huh?” He asks, as he leans closer to you, cupping your jaw again, he tilts your head to the side, making your giggles die down the moment he latches his lips onto your neck.
You suck in a sharp breath.
“Mmm, nothing,” you murmur, “w-what if I am? What if I do plan on fucking him?”
Steve has to hold back to growl, threatening to escape as he presses another rough kiss to your neck, his fingers now digging deeper into your hip.
“Well, I have a little priority here, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin.
“Wasn’t it you… the one who said no exclusivity, Steve?”
His breath stopped for a moment, regret gnawing up in his throat like vile. He wants to back out of that rule… but you are not his, so he waters it down.
“New rule then, Blondie,” he mumbles, not stopping with the kisses on your neck, “we leave with each other when we are at the same place. So, meaning today it’s me.”
You furrow your eyebrows at his words, questions already lingering in your mind.
You would always choose Steve.
There is no one else you would go home with.
And you can’t help but want him to know, but you don’t get to tell him because just as you open your mouth, Steve starts kissing your neck differently, intensely, roughly. He sucks on your neck, marking you up and blessing your delicate skin with hickeys as though he wants to show everyone that you’re his, that you belong to him.
And you do, you do belong to him, but he doesn’t know it.
He doesn’t know that your heart is his, that your mind and body is in his possession.
He doesn’t know how crazy you go over his touches, how your heart flutters at every slightest touch of his, how weak and vulnerable you feel when he holds you, how no one else could ever come close to make you feel the things that he can make you feel.
“How many drinks did you have, Blondie?”
“J-Just half of the drink I left downstairs,” you say, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.
“Just that?” He asks, “you’re not drunk, are you?”
You shake your head quickly, “no, not at all.”
“Good,” he nods.
Your eyes flutter shut when you feel his fingers on your ruined panties, he pushes them aside and slips his long fingers through your folds, dipping them inside of you before he pulls them back out to tease your clit, digits now coated with your slick.
You jerk a little, wrapping your arm around him so you can hold onto him, a needy moan escapes your mouth.
You could have had this on Wednesday night, you could have had this last night, but you were too busy worrying about something that filled your heart with pain.
“S-Steve!”
He gets lost in his feelings, lost in the rage, in the possessiveness and the urge to show you that he should be the only one for you. His teeth graze your neck, his lips suck harshly on your skin as he spreads you open with two fingers.
You mewl when he starts pumping them inside of you, in and out, deeply and slowly at first.
“Who are you so wet for, huh?” He asks, pulling away just enough so he can look at the marks he left, appreciating the sight in front of him for a second, before he pulls your face towards him, gripping your chin tighter than before, his thumb now lingering on your bottom lip. “Tell me, Blondie”
You open your eyes, revealing to him just how dark they are, how much lust lingers in them.
“You, Stevie! Just you!” You whine needily before you wrap your lips around his thumb, catching him off guard, once again. You swirl your tongue around it, looking into his hazel eyes as you start sucking, you watch the way they widen and darken, the tension in his jaw now leaving as he is only focused on this, on you.
“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath, picking up the pace of his fingers, he drags them out of you and slams them back in, nearly moaning himself when he listens to the squelching noises as he finger-fucks you, “just me?”
Your jaw drops and you throw your head back, letting go of him to hold onto the edges of the counter, he has got you pressed against at. You nod quickly, “yes, yes! Just you, only you!” You ramble as you squeeze your eyes shut again, enjoying the feeling of his fingers inside of you.
“Good.”
Steve can feel how you clench around him, how you’re already so close even though he didn’t even get started yet. He leans in to peck your lips as he curls his fingers inside of you, and he presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing it slowly.
He feels himself growing harder – the feeling of your tight, wet walls around his fingers being too much, along with the needy moans that keep falling from your pretty lips.
He stares at you, watching the way your nipples poke through the thin material of your dress – of course, you’re not wearing a bra. You bite your lip, your brows are knit together, and your head falls to the side as you let yourself get lost in the feeling he provides you with.
Not Jacob, definitely not Jacob.
The jock could never make you feel this, he is so sure of it, and yet, Steve can’t shake the thoughts of you and him together.
Would you be this wet for him too?
Would you moan so prettily for him?
Would you be so needy for him?
The anger just won’t leave him, it refuses to, it has him in its tightest grip, urging him to prove something to you.
His chest heaves up and down heavily, his darkened eyes are nearly black now.
You’re close, he can feel that you are with the way you’re clenching around him, but he doesn’t let you cum like this tonight, so he pulls his fingers out of you.
Your eyes shoot open and your lips part as you’re about to protest, pouting at him. He grabs your hips with both of his hands, turning you around abruptly, he bends you over the counter and presses himself against you, and he chuckles darkly when you gasp at his action.
Steve reaches for the hem of your dress and he flips it over, exposing your ass to him and the lacy thong you’re wearing, he groans at the sight of it, unable to hold back, he rears his hand back before he smacks his large palm against your skin, slapping your ass harshly.
Steve has never, never treated a girl roughly before, not any of his hookups, not Nancy, but then again, he never had this much fun with any of them. Letting go of his inhibitions, taking what he wants for once, and the fact that you let him, and even love it, makes him go feral.
But as the realization sinks in of what he had done, his eyes widen as fear rushes through him, worried that he had gone too far, but you ease his mind with the filthy whimper that sounds through the room as you press your ass against his dick, rubbing it against him as though you’re asking for more.
He can’t help but chuckle, the shock and the fear vanishing just as quick as it came.
“Oh, you like that, Blondie?” He asks as he presses his palm against your ass, this time not slapping it, but grabbing it roughly, making you whine again. “Of course you fucking do,” he murmurs as he lets go, only to smack you once more, making you gasp his name in pleasure.
“Please!”
He looks at your reflection in the mirror, needy eyes meeting his.
“Please what?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans, he reaches for the condom in his back pocket – mentally thanking his needy self for placing one there before he left his house, in hopes that he would get this.
“Please, fuck me!”
He pushes his jeans and boxers down, just enough to free himself, not wasting any more time, he rips apart the foil and throws the empty packet on the ground, making quick work of rolling the condom over his length. With his chin against his chest, he looks down, stroking his dick for good measure, his spit curl falls in front of his eyes, but he doesn’t bother to push it out of the way, he looks up through hooded eyes, glancing at you through the mirror, he almost wants to chuckle at the desperation in your eyes, but it gets stuck in his throat when you push your ass back against his dick, whining.
His stomach flutters seeing you so desperate for no one but him.
He grabs your hip with his left hand, pressing himself against you, he teases both you and himself by slipping his shaft through your wet folds, he watches the way you look at him, begging for more with your eyes as you push yourself up a little.
He presses his palm against your lower back, pushing you down so your chest is flush against the marble counter, he lines up with your entrance and pushes inside of you slowly. Waves of pleasure rush through him in an instant. You scrunch your face up, lips parting as a sigh escapes you.
You throw your hand back, reaching for his forearm, you grab it tightly as you shut your eyes and drop your head a little, your hair falls in front of your face, hiding all your pretty features.
Steve looks down, watching his cock disappear into your weeping pussy.
“You take me so well, holy shit,” he murmurs under his breath. And it was the truth, you take him like no other, making you the most addictive.
He sinks into you, deeper and deeper, stretching you out and splitting you open, the tension inside of him grows and his heartbeat increases. He pulls out again, watching the way the condom around him glistens with your slick – how he wishes that he could feel you without it. He slams back in, making you gasp and arch your back in pleasure. He starts thrusting, in and out, deeply and slowly at first, but with an intensity that makes you open your eyes again.
“Steve!”
“That’s right,” He grunts, reaching his hand forward, he grabs your hair and tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at yourself in the mirror as he moves his hips faster, quickening his pace until he’s pounding you. “Look at who’s fucking you right now, Blondie.”
The loudest moan falls from your lips, and you instantly bring your hand up to cup your mouth, panic flashing in your lust filled eyes. Despite the loud music, you are scared that someone might hear you, and it only prompts him to fuck you harder and rougher against the counter, holding you tighter as heat spreads in his chest – who do you want to hide from? Your friends, or Jacob?
But while Steve worries about something that isn’t even on your mind, you are so far gone, so lost in the pleasure that you feel because of him, your insides so sensitive already, yet aching for more. You focus on the way he thrusts in and out of you, how heavenly it feels to feel him inside of you, to feel him in your stomach.
You are so drunk on him that there is not a single thought in your brain, only him.
No one has ever done this to you, no one has ever made you feel so weak, so submissive, so lost in the heat of the moment, no one has ever taken such control – you wouldn’t have let them, only he can have this.
Your eyes turn glassy, rolling back as you throw your head back, your weak hand falling from your face again.
“Yeah, as if that asshole could fuck you like this,” he grunts, letting go of your hair and moving his hand forward to cup your cheeks, “say it. Say no one can fuck you like this, Blondie, because I know it’s true.”
Your walls clench and flutter around him, a cry leaving you as he pulls your ass up a little, slamming in and out of you, hitting the spot that makes tears fall from your eyes, making him even more aroused than before.
“Only you, Steve!” You sob as a tear spills down your cheek and onto his thumb.
Your knees buckle and your body begins to tremble, sobs and moans turn into needy whines and whimpers, your flustered face decorated with pretty tears making his muscles tense in his stomach.
You try to keep quiet as you press your lips together, trying to breathe calmly through your nose despite the pounding in your chest, when he suddenly changes the pace again, pounding you so hard that he knocks you forward, hitting so deep inside of your squelching pussy, that you can’t help but cry out loudly as stars blur your vision.
“Stevie, Stevie, Stevie!”
Steve nearly busts, eyes widening at the way you chant his name so desperately. His hips stutter a little and he has to suck in a sharp breath, eyes shutting for a moment. He twitches inside of you, and it doesn’t help that you keep clenching.
The sound of the music, of laughter and voices outside are so far away, the only thing you both hear are your moans and how wet you are as his skin slaps against yours.
He slows down a little, enough to make you whine again, to make you move back against him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock.
“F-Fuck,” Steve moans, he opens his eyes again, reaching forward, he grabs your shoulder and pulls you up and against his chest before he lets his hand travel down your stomach, he pushes your dress out of the way, and his fingers find their way to your clit.
A high pitched moan echoes through the room, your body shakes harder and you grab his forearm tightly as he rubs circles on your sensitive nub.
He presses his lips to your neck, moaning himself as the tension in his stomach grows bigger and bigger. He kisses your delicate skin, his mouth brushing the dark marks he left.
You cling to him, nails grazing his skin, you press the side of your face against his, staining his cheek with your tears.
“I know, baby, I know.”
If only he knew just how such a simple yet special word affects your heart, making it beat faster and harder in your chest, setting all your insides on fire and igniting something in you that throws you into a pit of love and glee.
Steve had never called you this before, and you could only dream of such sweet nicknames, until now.
Your eyes roll back again, eyelashes fluttering as you squeeze them shut completely, mouth ajar as filthy noises fall. You’d fall over if it wasn’t for his strong arms holding you up, his fingers moving so fastly on your clit, his dick so deep inside of you, his lips biting gently on your skin, all it takes is another rough thrust and your body begins to shake for a different reason, you fall apart for him, once again.
You don’t even feel yourself drooling, you no longer feel the tears spilling down your cheeks.
“Good girl,” he whispers into your ear, kissing the spot behind it before he grabs your chin and tilts your head to the side so he can press his lips against yours, pulling you into a soft kiss as he keeps fucking you, chasing his own high.
Steve furrows his brows, his muffled moan vibrating against your lips as he gives one last powerful thrust and spills into the condom, secretly wishing that he could spill inside of you and paint your walls white instead.
His body relaxes after the high it had been on for the past minutes, muscles loosening, but lips still moving gently against yours.
Both yours and his moans die down after a moment, but you’re still panting, trying to catch your breaths as you pull away from one another. You open your eyes, and look into his, the blackness slowly fading away and you see the pretty hazel color again. His tongue licks his bottom lip, eyes flickering between your own and the marks he left on your neck.
A lazy smile appears on your face and you feign confidence as you tilt your head to the side and reach your hand up to move the spit curl away from his forehead, the tips of your fingers brushing his skin, he holds you tighter in response.
“I didn’t think you could get so jealous, Steve,” you whisper, ‘jokingly’ but most of all, painfully to yourself.
You’d hope that he was jealous, that all of this was the result of the burning red emotion, but why would he feel jealous over you?
Just the presence of Jacob was enough to bruise Steve’s ego. That’s all that it was.
You know he never liked the jock, and the fact that he got his hands on you first, must’ve hit a nerve. But it has nothing to do with you. Steve is not jealous of who you sleep with, he doesn’t care. He is just bruised cause he felt threatened with an ex hook-up you had, afraid of them stealing you for tonight.
Steve huffs at your words, shaking his head at you. He pulls out of you with a hiss, cursing under his breath.
“Well, did you think I’d let him steal you away from me…?” He asks, clearing his throat as he adds, “tonight?”
And then he looks down, not wanting to show his face, to show how jealous he really is.
He doesn’t need you to know that.
He slips his hand between your thighs again, adjusting your panties and putting them back in place before he fixes your dress, pushing it back down over your ass.
Your eyes soften at his action, heart fluttering in your chest.
It’s not the first time he does this, he always takes care of you – he cleans you up, he helps you put a shirt on your body whenever you stay over, whenever you’re too weak to move. He is good to you, gentle and soft, and that is dangerous, because despite the thoughts in your head, the logical part that tells you the truth, his actions keep putting false hope into your heart.
You grab the counter, and on shaky feet, you step closer and hold onto it tightly, watching as he fixes himself next, throwing the condom and the discarded foil into the trash, he tucks himself back into his pants and steps towards the counter beside you to wash his hands.
His lips are stained with your lipstick, his hair is messy and his cheeks are flushed – he looks so cute like this.
You tear your eyes away from him and finally look at your own reflection, your eyes widen and you gasp in shock – not at the mascara that runs down your face, the messy hair or just how puffy your lips are, no, this is not exactly an unusual sight to see, but the marks on your neck are, because they are so much bigger and darker than they usually are.
You throw your hand up towards your neck and turn to face him, “what the fuck, Steve?”
He winces, quickly drying his hands before he turns to face you, as well. Eying your hand that is covering the hickeys he left, your big eyes filled with panic. He can’t help but think you look cute like this, with your hair all messy and your lips curled into a pout.
“H-How am I gonna hide–”
He grabs your face and pulls you into a soft kiss, just a quick peck, one that is enough to cut you off.
“You think I’m done with you and we’re gonna go back to the party?” He chuckles, caressing your cheek as he pulls away from your puckered lips, “no, we’re leaving, Blondie.”
You gulp at his words and squeeze your aching thighs together as excitement rises back up in you.
“So, fix yourself and meet me downstairs,” he murmurs, placing another soft kiss to your lips before he pulls away. “I’ll wait by the front door.”
He takes another look at your neck, hiding his satisfied smirk by turning around. He unlocks the door and opens it, leaving you alone in the bathroom as he makes his way downstairs to find Eddie or Robin, to announce that he will be driving home a very sick Blondie.
While a smirk keeps playing on his lips, you are panicking in the bathroom, not knowing how to hide the marks he left, what lie to come up with this time if Eddie sees and asks questions again.
You do your best to fix your hair, running your fingers through it and wiping away the mascara streaks on your cheeks, and the smudged lipstick, that you only now realize, is still on his lips, he didn’t even bother to wipe it away – what an idiot.
You step back and take a look at your dress, smoothing it down and moving your hands back to your hair. The marks on your neck are so strong, so very visible, you’re not even sure if foundation and concealer will be able to hide this. A groan falls from your lips.
You should do the same to him, he surely won’t fix it with makeup.
You press your palm against your neck, testing out how it will look if you just go out like this.
“This looks so stupid,” you mutter to yourself, rolling your eyes.
You pray that you won’t run into any of your friends on the way out, all you have to do is make it downstairs and to the front door. You haven’t seen much of Eddie before, and Robin is too busy with Vickie anyways.
You take a deep breath and then you step out of the bathroom and into the hallway. It’s not as crowded as it is downstairs, but there are still a few people you have to pass, as you awkwardly keep your hand on your neck, pretending to scratch it.
You feel eyes on you, but you don’t bother to turn around to look at them, not even caring if they heard you and Steve – as long as your friends didn’t hear, you’re good.
Your legs are shaky, and walking in your platform heels feels like a workout after Steve just railed you into oblivion, your stomach still flutters, yet feeling empty at the lack of him.
You walk down the stairs, carefully. You hope that your knees won’t buckle.
The party is still in full swing, some Billy Idol song blaring through the speakers as the living room is still filled with dancing people. Red solo cups are everywhere, empty bottles and cans litter the counters and tables – poor Vickie will regret throwing a party when she wakes up tomorrow morning.
Your eyes fall on him, the smug look on his face making you huff in annoyance. Steve enjoys seeing you struggle after what he just did to you, he licks his lips as his eyes run up and down your body, they flash with amusement when they fall on your hand, you see the way his shoulders shake, he is chuckling at you as he plays with the car keys in his hand. Smug bastard.
You roll your eyes at him, and turn away, looking around to see if any of your friends are around, but the only people you see are strangers and a few known faces from school, you sigh in relief, knowing that you won’t have to lie into Eddie’s or Robin’s face. You return your gaze to Steve whose face is suddenly no longer as smug as it was a few seconds ago, his eyes aren’t even on you anymore, but rather on someone behind you as he looks over your shoulder.
Someone calls your name, someone who is the reason for the rage on Steve’s face that you had already seen before.
You turn around when your name is being called again, to find Jacob walking towards you. Oh.
You grow flustered knowing that the fucked out look on your face is so very obvious. You can’t even hide it.
He catches up to you, and he reaches his hand out to place it on your upper arm, “hi, there you are,” he smiles, towering over you. He is tall, much taller than you, even taller than Steve.
You greet him back, forcing a smile.
He furrows his brows as his eyes scan your face, his smile falling a little, a frown appearing instead, “are you okay?” He asks, worriedly. “Do you feel sick?”
You shake your head and open your mouth to speak when the words get stuck in your throat after his hand leaves your arm and comes to rest on your face instead, surprising you and angering Steve.
“Do you need me to take you home?” He asks, caressing your cheek.
You would have moved, but you are frozen in place as you stare at him, completely caught off guard by his action and the look in his eyes.
“I-I…”
A different hand appears on your lower back, one that your body instantly recognizes, because your skin heats up and your chest blooms with warmth – it’s scary how well your body knows him.
Steve pulls you into his side, wrapping his arm around you, “I got her, she’s in good hands, Leeney.”
Sometimes you wish that he knew how you felt about him, how your heart nearly explodes every time he says something only a boyfriend should say – maybe then, he would take pity on you and your heart.
You melt into his touch, the smell of his cologne is so intoxicating.
Jacob retracts his hand, he looks between you and Steve, his shoulders slumping a little as he steps back, he looks down at you, nodding, “alright.”
“Come on,” Steve murmurs, squeezing your waist as he begins to pull you away, wanting you away from the jock and towards the front door.
“Bye Jacob–”
“Wait,” he rushes forward, and reaches for your hand, placing a folded note into your palm. “Here, I’m not making the same mistake again.” He gives your hand a squeeze and smiles at you, not waiting for your response, he steps away and takes another glance at Steve, before he turns around and leaves.
You stare at the note in your hand, you don’t have to open it to know what’s written on the paper.
You fail to notice the absolute rage in Steve’s eyes, how much more intense it is than before, how tense the muscles in his jaw are, how it takes everything in him not to slam you against the wall and kiss you in front of Jacob and everyone else.
He pulls you out of the house without a single word, he grabs your hand instead as he leads you outside, he shuts the door and the sound of music and the many voices begin to fade away as you both make your way to his car, which he parked on the side of the road.
Your heels click against the cobblestone, your hands hold tightly onto his, you’re quiet, and so is he, but a storm is raging in his mind, and everything he felt before, now feels so much worse.
Can he keep you when there’s other people who want you just as much as he does? – And even, in different, much more intimate ways?
He saw the way Jacob looked at you, he wasn’t only interested in another quick fuck, he wanted more, and it irritates Steve, it makes his stomach churn uncomfortably, it makes his heart clench in his chest – it shouldn’t, there is nothing more between you than this, and yet, he is scared to lose it, the little secret that you both have, he isn’t ready to let it go, he isn’t ready to let you go and watch you fall into someone else arms.
He wants to keep you, and he will do everything to make it stay that way.
He knows that there is only one way to show you that he is the only you will ever need. At least, for now.
He opens the passenger door and lets go of your hand so you can get inside, eying the note that is still in your other hand. He closes the door once you’re seated, and he makes his way around his BMW, when he gets inside as well, he notices the now unfolded note in your lap and the number that’s written on it.
He grits his teeth but bites back his bitter words.
You won’t call him, he will make sure of that.
It’s not easy to focus on the drive when his mind is in such a whirlwind and his eyes keep glancing back at the note in your lap, that you folded back together again.
You aren’t looking at it any longer, your eyes are focused on the road and the passing trees.
“What do you plan to do with that number, Blondie?” He asks, unable to hold back and hide the jealousy this time.
You narrow your eyes at him, taking a look at his hands, you see how hard he is gripping the steering wheel when you take in the sight of his knuckles. The veins in his hands nearly popped. You gulp as your eyes move along his arm, muscles that are hidden beneath the black sleeve of his shirt peeking out just a little, his cheeks are red, his jaw clenched.
He is angry, but a part of you can see through your insecurities.
It’s not only his ego that was bruised, it’s not only the anger that shines through, there is more, so much more.
The jealousy that only you ever felt is lingering in his eyes.
He is jealous.
Steve is jealous over you.
And there is really no reason for him to feel that way, but you can’t stop the rush of excitement and happiness that floods through your body.
If he felt that way before he dragged you into the bathroom, over an innocent conversation, what will he do now that Jacob has made an entirely new move?
Will you get another taste of what he gave you before?
Will he call you baby again?
You’re stepping into a dangerous territory, you know it, but the thrill over it makes heat pool in your stomach.
“I don’t know, Lego Head,” you shrug, trying to keep a straight face as you look at him, “maybe I’ll keep it… You know, for when you don’t answer your phone.” You lie as you pick the note back up.
Steve huffs, shaking his head in disbelief.
He rolls down the window, giving you no time to react, he snatches the note from your hand and wastes no second to throw it out onto the road, letting it get lost in the darkness.
“Hey!” You gasp as your eyes widen.
“Whoops, my hand slipped,” he flashes you an innocent smile as he closes the window again.
“What if I want to call him!?”
Your question makes him grip the wheel even tighter, knuckles turning white.
“You don’t need him,” he mumbles.
You sit up straighter, raising your brows at him, “oh really? I don’t? Why’s that?”
Steve can’t take it any longer, the feelings inside of him boiling over, controlling all his actions now.
He pulls the car off the main road, and drives into the isolated wooded area that leads to a stream, a hidden part of Lovers Lake that he only ever came to when he needed to clear his head.
He slams his foot on the brakes and turns off the car, turning off the lights and unbuckling the seatbelt, he turns to you in anger, “because you literally just said no one can fuck you like I can!”
Your heart begins to race, goosebumps rise on your skin, and you press your palms against the leather seat beneath you. The giddiness inside of you is now so difficult to keep hidden.
“Ah, so that should make you exclusive,” you smirk, tilting your head to the side, “okay, well, maybe he got better–”
You don’t even get to finish your sentence, you don’t get to taunt him anymore as he turns his back to you and gets out of the car, slamming the door shut and rounding the car to get to you, he rips open the door on your side.
“You don’t learn, do you?”
“W-What?”
“Get out.” He demands, not nicely.
You frown at him, watching his stance and how angry he looks at you. “What the fuck–”
“Get out,” he repeats, in a much calmer yet angrier voice.
You shiver at his command, and you take a deep breath as you unfasten your seatbelt, your heels hit the grass as you get out of the car. Steve places his hand on your back and pushes you out of the way so he can close the door before he opens the one to the backseat. He glares into your eyes, “get in.”
Your frown transforms into a look of complete confusion as you look between his hand and the seat that he points at.
“You’re making me change seats?”
He steps closer to you, “get the fuck inside, right now.”
The demanding, aggressive tone in his voice doesn’t make you question him again, you swallow harshly and turn around, you place your hands on the leather seats as you crawl inside, moaning in surprise when he smacks your ass again.
He chuckles darkly behind you, “you really like that huh?”
You glare at him over your shoulder, earning another slap to your other cheek, making you jerk and whine.
He chuckles again and follows you inside, closing the door behind him, “noted.”
The leather beneath you is cold, and you grip it tightly, sucking in a sharp breath, and just as you go to turn around and sit down, Steve’s strong hands grab at your hips, flipping you over and manhandling you underneath his body as he forces you to lie down on your back. He pushes your thighs apart, settling in between them, he presses his palms flat against the seat on both sides of your head.
A shiver runs down your spine, not from fear, but from excitement, because he probably didn’t want you to realize he was jealous, but he is showing you. He is clearly showing you and you can’t help but feel absolutely happy, accomplished.
You know that you’re in for something when you look into his eyes – you can’t even find the right words to describe the emotions that are lingering in them, but they make your inside flutter so wildly, you feel the need to clench your thighs together as he looms over you, but you can’t, he doesn’t let you.
His nose brushes against yours, his hair falls in front of his eyes as he inches closer to you, his breath kissing your skin.
“Has anyone ever put you in your place, Blondie?” He asks as he drums his finger along your shoulder, hooking it around the strap of your dress.
“W-What?” You stutter, hating how weak and shaky your voice sounds.
“I’m taking that as a no.”
Steve drags the strap down, and he leans down to press his lips against your shoulder, “I wanted to be nice, baby,” he murmurs against your skin, “wanted to take care of you, but fuck, you leave me no choice.”
You squirm beneath him, digging your nails into the flesh of your legs as you furrow your brows at his words.
His lips ghost over your collarbone, his hand now pushing your dress down a little, he exposes your chest to him, and he traces the outline of your breast before his fingers pinch your nipple, making you whine again.
“Time for you to understand–” He murmurs as he plants a kiss to your jaw, “-- that I’m the only one you need.”
His movements are soft, his touches are gentle but to your surprise, they don’t stay that way, after a few more kisses, he flips the bottom part of your dress over, bunching it around your waist, he hooks his finger around your panties and tears them off of you, throwing them over his back, not caring where they land. His fingers trace your legs, hands finding their way to your heels, he unfastens the straps around your ankles, and takes them off before he returns his attention to where you need him the most.
He teases you with his fingers, torturing your clit and chuckling darkly at the whines that start filling the space around you.
Steve had been intense and rough before, but one look into his face shows you that you will get more tonight, so much more.
He splits you open with his fingers again, sinking them into your soaked hole, he fucks you with them, he taunts you with his words and sucks more marks onto your skin, littering the other side of your neck and your chest with hickeys. He makes you see stars with the way he curls his digits inside of you and rubs your clit.
To your surprise and confusion, he doesn’t let you cum, he pulls his fingers out and stops touching you when you’re about to fall apart, just like he did before in the bathroom. Nothing like this ever happened before.
You don’t think anything of it at first, not when he seems desperate to fill you up in a different way. He fumbles with his pants and pushes them down, along with his boxers. He rolls a condom over his length again, one of many he has in the glove compartment because sometimes you two don’t even reach a bed when seeing each other, rushing to do it just as he did earlier, your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking, red tip.
“C’mere,” he murmurs, grabbing your waist and pulling your weakened body on top of him, you instantly reach for his shoulders, grabbing them tightly as he gives you no time to react before he makes you sink down on his cock – you don’t mind. You are so needy, so wet for him that your juices soak your inner thighs.
But you need to feel his skin on yours, so you reach for the hem of his shirt, and pull it over his head, he leans forward as you rip it off of him. You throw it on the seat and wrap your arms around his naked shoulders, pressing yourself against his hairy chest.
You are the first to start moving, rolling your hips and riding him slowly, but he isn’t satisfied with that, he wants something else, he wants more.
Steve makes you bounce on his dick, he holds your hips harshly and uses you as though you’re a fleshlight, filling you to the brim and slamming you up and down on his dick, fucking you rather disrespectfully.
He makes you fall forward, as your eyes shut at the roughness and the intensity. He is buried so deep inside of you, you’re not sure if you have ever felt this before. Tears blur your vision again that night, moans turn into whimpers and whimpers into cries, the pleasure so strong, so overwhelming.
You throw your hand against the fogged up window, slamming your palm against it, leaving a handprint there for him.
No words escape you, not even his name, the only thing you can do is fall limply against his body and hide your face in the crook of his neck as drool starts coming out of your mouth but the moment it touches his skin, Steve grabs the back of your neck and pulls you back to him again, so he can see your face.
“Does he even get to see you like this?” He grunts, fucking up into you and watching the way you squeeze your crying eyes shut. “Drooling? Crying? I bet I’m the only one you’ve ever been this cock drunk for… aren’t I?”
You nod your head wildly, panting and gasping as pain and pleasure mix together. He thinks it’s just physical, but there is so much more to it. You knew you would turn into this for him and just him, you’ve always known.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Steve lets go of your neck, making you fall back against him, he decides to tease you more by smacking your ass, causing you to jolt and whimper, filling him with satisfaction.
He makes your pleasure the more unbearable, causing you to clench around him.
And just like before, just as you’re so close to reaching your peak, he stops your movements all together, filling you with anger now, making you snap out of the haze he put you into. He stills and grabs you tightly, so you won’t move, he lifts you up and off his cock, biting back a groan.
“W-What the fuck, Steve?” You cry out, “I-I was so close!”
His eyes are nearly unrecognizable when he squeezes your cheeks together with one hand, forcing you to look at him. The angry sight in front of you, only makes you clench around him even harder.
“You’re not cumming until I say so, Blondie.” It was stern, but Steve had a point to make, he needs to make it happen.
You aren’t even aware of what is going on inside of his troubled mind, you could never even guess, not even when he flips you over and throws you down under him, placing your left leg over his shoulder.
The position is quite cramping, but you forget about any kind of pain, when he sinks back inside of you and starts pounding into you with a force that makes the stars shine brighter and your heart race faster.
Steve is not even focused on his pleasure, despite how good you feel around him, all that he can think about is your pleasure. He gives his all, he gives everything to kill any memory of what any of your other hookups did to you, of the pleasure they made you feel, of the pleasure he once made you feel.
He snaps his hips into yours, fucking you so deeply and roughly, making his dick ache in pleasure.
He surely never fucked anyone this way before. He never felt this angry before.
He watches you closely, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, the way you grip the leather beneath you, nearly ripping through it with your nails as tears of pleasure stream down your face and you tilt your head to the side with furrowed brows, your tits bouncing as he slams you back and forth on the seats.
Your moans are so loud that anyone who were to pass by, would freak out and almost faint or call the cops.
He is not even touching your clit, not even grazing it with his fingers, not giving it any pleasure again… yet. But he feels your fluttering walls, how tight you are getting around him, how high pitched your moans are getting – you are close, so close.
And so is he, he keeps thrusting in and out of you, not tearing his eyes off of your beautiful face as he chases his own high, roughly and deeply. Your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as he finishes into the condom, groaning as your walls grip him tightly.
Steve pulls out of you reluctantly, stopping your pleasure once again.
He pulls your leg off his shoulder gently and places it back on the seat, giving it a squeeze.
His chest heaves up and down, he breathes heavily as he stares at you, biting back the chuckle when your eyes shoot open and a bewildered look crosses your face, the tears in your eyes still shining brightly as you raise yourself up on your elbows, frowning angrily at him.
“You– I’m going to fucking kill you, Steve, it’s not fair!” Your bottom lip trembles, you are clearly very frustrated with him.
He looks down to hide the amusement on his face, taking the condom off, he ties it up and throws it on the ground, making a mental note to throw it away later on.
Steve tugs himself back into his boxers and pulls his pants up, not bothering with his belt just yet.
He shakes his head at you when you squeeze your thighs together, hiding yourself from him. He hooks his hands around your knees, pulling you closer against him before he tears them apart again, exposing your glistening swollen pussy to him.
He licks his lips as he hooks your leg around his hip, holding it there as brings his other hand back to your center, he bites down on his lip, looking at you with mischief in his eyes as he delivers a slap to your clit.
“Wha– Steve!” You gasp in surprise and if he weren’t so determined, so centered on you, he would have been surprised by his action too.
“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, using his pointer finger to tease your slit, he spreads your folds apart, and slips his middle finger and ring finger into your sopping pussy, he focuses on your face.
Your angry features slowly relax again, mouth parting as he starts to move his fingers again, this time he does aim for your orgasm… and more.
He moves slowly at first, rocking his fingers in and out of you, moaning himself at the noises he draws from your pussy.
Despite the pleasure that you’re falling back into again, you grow flustered at the noises and raise your hands up to your face, covering it and hiding yourself from him, but your action only earns you another slap to your clit.
“Uh uh,” Steve shakes his head at you, letting go of your leg, he reaches forward and grabs both of your wrists with one hand, dragging your hands away from your face, “don’t hide from me.”
“But–”
He curls his fingers into your g-spot, tearing a gasp from you.
“No buts,” he grumbles, as he moves steadily, fingering your pussy roughly now. He angles his hand differently, the end of his palm now brushing against your aching clit every time he thrusts his fingers deeply into you.
He shuts you up quickly, making every word, every sentence get caught in your throat.
His left hand fondles your boobs, your waist, your stomach, your hip – he touches you everywhere, leaving every inch of your skin burning with desire. His fingertips dig deeply into your leg as he keeps you spread open, his thigh keeping your other leg from closing, as he abuses your cunt with his fingers that are much longer than your own.
Your back arches in pleasure, your sensitive core crying for more.
The feeling inside of you is different, new, but you aren’t surprised by it, he edged you three or four times tonight, tears of frustration fell from your eyes, those tears that are now caused by pleasure and sensitivity.
Your whimpers are so erotic to him, just like the wetness he can hear as he is knuckles deep inside of you, stretching you open. He can see the goosebumps on your skin and the way your stomach tenses up, the way your breathing stutters.
You are in bliss, he can see it on your face, there is not a single thought in that pretty head of yours.
He leans down, pressing into you as he inches closer to your face, pecking your lips, “no one else can make you feel like this… no one.” He whispers against your lips, placing another kiss upon them before he moves to your marked up neck, ghosting over it and inching down to your chest, trailing kisses along the way to your boobs. He wraps his lips around your nipple, looking up at you, he begins to suck, adding more pleasure to your body.
You belong to him.
“Steve!” You whimper, throwing your hands into his hair, you let your fingers get lost in it.
He moans against you, quickening the pace of his fingers, curling them even harder inside of you, making you shudder at the feeling, jolting even when he presses his thumb against your swollen clit.
You tremble beneath him, the wave of pleasure being so strong that a sob falls from your lips, your fingers curling into his hair roughly, “fuck… baby,” you whine.
A surprised whimper falls from his own lips, the nickname stopping every thought in his mind, for a second.
Baby, Baby, Baby…
No one has ever called him that, no one. The fact that you are the first, somehow makes it better, and he doesn’t even know why.
The coil inside of you grows bigger and bigger, an unfamiliar feeling bubbles in your lower stomach, making drool form on your tongue and stars blur your vision. Your nerves feel as though they are on fire, your skin prickling as he fucks you roughly.
“I-I’m so close,” you whimper and scrunch your face up as you move your hips a little, meeting his thrusts.
He is so lost in you and your moans, he doesn’t even realize that he is biting, tugging on your nipple with his teeth until a new, higher moan escapes you.
“O-Oh my god,” you whisper shakily as your eyes roll back, “S-Steve! That feels so good!”
“Yeah?” He murmurs against you, lips returning to your neck, he pecks it a few times as he looks down, watching the way your thighs tremble, the way the muscles in your stomach tense so tightly and your chest rises up and down so much heavier than before, “your thighs are shaking so much… holy shit.”
The pressure inside of you becomes so overwhelming, it feels a lot, it feels too much.
“S-Steve,” you tremble, “t-that feels weird.”
Your voice sounds so small, unsure, yet the moans won’t stop escaping you.
“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers as he lets go of your leg, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he wipes your tears and brushes your hair out of your face, pressing his thumb against your bottom lip, “just trust me… let go for me.”
You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, not even when he starts peppering your face with kisses.
The pleasure is too much, the pressure makes you panic slightly, but he doesn’t stop, if anything, he fucks you harder and faster with his fingers, keeping them curled inside of you, his palm keeps brushing your overstimulated clit. He is hoping to get what he has been seeking. You haven’t trembled this much before, and he is confident, he is so confident that you won’t forget this, that you won’t forget how he made you feel, that you won’t forget him.
“C’mon,” he murmurs against your lips, “I know you want to.”
Your bottom lip shakes, the pressure threatening to explode inside of you, every inch of your body now burning and quivering.
You let go of his hair and throw your hand down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, your eyes open, and you look at him through your blurry vision.
Your moans and the squelching that gets louder and louder, sounds that are like music to his ears, making his stomach flutter and his dick twitch again – to his own surprise.
“I-I can’t– too much, Steve!” You whine, nearing an edge you have never touched before, “I’m gonna–”
You never get to finish your sentence, because as Steve plunges his fingers in even deeper, and curls them harder. You can only throw your head back, a mix between a squeal and a whimper falling.
Steve nearly stops all of his movements when you clench around his fingers like a vice.
Your hips jerk upwards as liquids shoot out of you, and he gets to where he wanted.
“H-Holy shit–”
Steve’s eyes widen, a chuckle of amusement and excitement leaving his lips, he stares at you in awe. Surprised at the tent in his pants, he is rock hard again.
He keeps pounding his fingers in and out of you, not stopping his movements just yet. With a smirk, he leans down to kiss your cheek, cooing at you, “you’re such a good girl for me.” He says possessively.
Your walls unclench around him, and he thinks it’s all, when you suddenly clench again, tighter than before, another shockwave rushes through your body, and you squirt even more, the leather beneath you becoming even wetter than before.
Steve’s hand is drenched, up to his elbow, and so is the front of his jeans, his stomach and the window behind him. The evidence of how good he made you feel is all over his seats, filling him with pride.
A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, he feels like he’s on top of the world, he feels like a fucking king again, knowing that he brought such pleasure to your body.
He never even thought that this was possible, that this move in porn movies is nothing but a myth, but he had to try, he had to try it with you. It would have shamed him before to admit he had been watching more porn than usual just to do the things he sees with you, but now? He feels like he is the most intelligent person in the world.
Your body falls limp, whines and whimpers still filling the space around you, tears roll down your cheek as you’re trying to catch your breath.
Steve pats your cheek, caressing it gently as he stares at you fondly, “hey, are you okay?” He whispers, unable to stop himself from pecking your lips.
You nod weakly, still needing a moment to come down from the high.
He keeps kissing you, playing with your hair as he caresses your skin, pulling his fingers out of you after a while, making you whine again.
You open your eyes, struggling to keep them open after the intense orgasm you just had. You look into his eyes, they’re filled with victory. A proud smile playing on his lips.
You raise your eyebrows when you notice the drops on the window, the wet seats, his soaked hands and the wetness beneath you.
Heat rushes up to your cheeks, embarrassment rushes through you and you can’t help but gasp as you look around the mess that you made. Tears blur your vision, “o-oh my god!” You say weakly, shakily as you start crying, catching him off guard, “I-I’m so sorry, Steve!”
You press your palms against the wet seats and push to sit up.
Steve shakes his head at you, he cups your cheeks and shushes you by kissing your lips again, “fuck, Blondie, don’t cry – holy shit, that was so fucking hot,” he chuckles, “it’s just leather, sweetheart. And honestly, this feels like a fucking victory to me.”
You blink through your tears, looking at him with big and glassy eyes, your heart still pounds in your chest, shame swirling deeply in your chest.
“Really?”
He nearly faints at the look in your eyes.
Who would’ve thought that Steve would ever get to see you like this or that he’d get to be the one to make you come undone so intensely?
You are so vulnerable, right now. It tugs at his heartstrings, knowing that you struggle with emotions, that you hate showing weakness and tears – yet here you are, even if it’s only out of shame, it shows him that you trust him, even if only a little.
You’re unaware of the fluttering in his chest that you cause, the warmth around his heart as he stares at you. He traces your cheek before he slips his hands down to your waist.
You look so fucking cute.
How can he not adore you when you look at him like this?
He gulps as he is completely aware of the way his heart feels.
You’re going to be a problem, that’s for sure – but he can’t find it in himself to care, not now.
He sits back and pulls you along with him, dragging you into his lap, he surprises you by wrapping his arms around your shaking, hot body. He pulls you into him so he can hug you, he cups the back of your head and makes you relax against his chest. He presses a kiss to your forehead, feeling the need to treat you gently, sweetly.
Your breath hitches in your throat, his actions doing nothing to calm your racing heart.
It takes you a moment, but eventually, you calm down and close your eyes as you bury your face in his bare chest, his hair tickling your cheek a little. Steve runs his finger up and down your spine, making your heart race.
Your body is aching, your legs are trembling, you nearly squeal when his crotch brushes against your center as you try to move closer to him.
“Wait,” he whispers, he grabs your waist again and changes your position, moving both of your legs over his thighs instead, so you don’t have to straddle him, and then, he pulls you back into his chest again. He brushes his fingers against your upper arm, stroking your skin softly, “is that better?”
You nod.
“Good,” he whispers, letting all his emotions guide him as he presses a kiss to your temple.
“Y-You made me squirt,” you whisper, blushing.
He chuckles, looking down at you and the way your cheek is pressed against his chest, “yeah Blondie, I made you squirt. I never did that in my life, you never did that in your life, we should put a memory plaque here.”
Finally, a giggle falls from your lips, and you look up at him, amusement shining in your eyes.
“I need a shower and sleep for like… three days straight.”
Steve chuckles, squeezing you tighter, he finds himself liking the feeling of holding you this way, he can’t help but want to pull you closer.
“I’m happy to provide all that for you,” he smiles down at you.
Steve likes to see you in his clothes, he likes it when you take showers at his place and make his bathroom smell like your shampoo and your sweet body wash.
He missed it last night.
He clears his throat, his smile falling a bit, “why didn’t you uh… call me the past two days?”
You hesitate, not wanting to show your face to him, you keep your head down.
“Oh uh… I felt sick, nauseous, probably because of something I ate, maybe it was Eddie’s attempt at the homemade burrito…”
Steve’s mind was plagued with ugly thoughts after seeing you with Jacob, but this is beginning to ease his mind a little.
“Wait so,” he blinks, sitting up straighter as he continues to look down at you, “you were home?”
You nod, meeting his eyes, “where else would I be?”
It’s not exactly a lie, but it isn’t the whole truth either. You had an appointment in the morning, one that you had been nervously awaiting for weeks.
The tension that remained leaves his body completely now, relief rushes through him, making him relax fully.
“I thought… since Jacob was back–”
Your lips part in surprise as your eyes widen, before a smile appears on your lips.
“Aw, is Stevie jealous and worried that someone is going to take his place?” You ask him, taunting him a little.
Yeah, he actually is.
But he can’t tell you that, can he?
He pinches your ass with his fingers, a smirk tugging at his lips, “don’t get all bratty now, or I will show you how no one can replace me… again.”
You’re a little taken aback by all the comments, by his actions today, by the softness of his touch, right now. He didn’t fight you on it. He just told you to not be bratty instead of telling you to stop thinking that way.
Today, he treated you as though you were his.
He acted out of jealousy and was possessive over you, and in the end, he pulled you into his arms, treating you with such gentleness that it will surely leave a stain in your heart forever.
This is dangerous, he is dangerous.
He is giving you a glimpse of something that you will never have.
He is showing you colors, you can’t ever see with anyone else.
And maybe, this should be enough to make you run into safety, to protect your heart from the pain it will suffer when it’s all over.
But in what world, would you ever run from him?
You know how this will end, but it won’t stop you from kissing his lips and letting him into you.
He can break your heart and shatter your soul for all you care.
It’s all his anyway.
-
Eddie looked all over for you, the backyard, the kitchen, even the bathroom and the bedrooms, he was sick with worry as he searched for you. He got distracted when Robin forced him into a game of beer pong, with Argyle and Vickie, and lost sight of you.
The girl ended up calming him down, when she told him that Steve took you home, you looked sick apparently. But Eddie knows better than that.
He knows deep in his gut that his suspicions were right, that he wasn’t thinking into it too deeply.
On his way out of Vickie’s house, he bumps into someone, turning around to apologize, he finds a very drunk Jacob, he raises his hands up, slurring out an apology, but then a confused frown appears on his face when he seems to recognize him.
“Munson, you’re friends with her, right?”
“Huh, with who?” Eddie mumbles, tilting his head.
Jacob says your name and Eddie blinks a few times and slowly nods, “best friends actually, what of it?”
The tall jock smells like beer and weed mixed together as he steps closer, invading his space a little.
“Well, I mean, is she dating Harrington or something?” Jacob asks, shaking his head.
Eddie raises his eyebrows, curiosity sparking inside of him.
“Um…” He could say no, he definitely could, but Jacob seems like a source of information right now, and he decides to use this opportunity to find out more, “what makes you think that?”
“Well, the fact that this guy cockblocked me two times tonight is the main one. Tried flirting with her and he just pulled her away and even dared to glare at me as if I were the one interrupting his conversation, man." Jacob is slurring, rambling, and he just looks like a guy that lost the opportunity, not someone who would push you into a date or something.
But Eddie is stunned by the revelation, so he pressed forward.
“Two times?”
“Yeah, the first one he took her somewhere as soon as I started talking to her, and the next he interrupted us so he could leave with her... Say sorry to Harrington for me, she didn't tell me she was dating him,” he mumbles, waving his hand as he rolls his eyes and steps.
Eddie’s gears work, trying to figure out a way to confirm all of this, but for now, the information is enough, his suspicions only growing with certainty. A small honest smile appears on his face and he pats Jacob on the shoulder.
“Thank you Leeney. I'll make sure to let Stevie know.”
The blond nods and steps away, giving him a weak smile before he walks off, leaving Eddie by himself.
His dark brown eyes flash with understanding and realization, a laugh of disbelief falling from his lips as he puts all the puzzle pieces together.
He brings his hand up to his chin and shakes his head when he thinks of the marks on both yours and Steve’s skin.
A scoff falls from Eddie’s lips.
“Chandler and Heidi, right.”
♡
tagging friends and mutuals
@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @taintedcigs @joekeerysmoles @ibellcipem @maroon-cardigan @sherrylyn628 @corrodedcorpses @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @agirlwholovesrockstars
#my writing ♡#dwoht#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington angst#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#stranger things angst
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reminiscing ꩜ ln4
type: instagram/twitter au
Fans suffer days leading to love's holiday without their favorite couple.
lily said: hi! my first fic here, my first social media au ever, hope u enjoy :) will be a part 2 and 3..maybe more as well. whatever my heart desires and such
call her daddy podcast, 2/6/23
alex cooper and special guest: y/n l/n
y/n l/n: my friends keep trying to get me on dates, but i don't know, i'm just too much of a homebody right now. trying my best, but i'm rusty.
alex cooper: right, and i totally don't want to bring it up, if you don't want it out, but...
y/n l/n: no, it's totally fine. and yes, i'm single. it's one of those things i figured people will start to pick up on, it's kinda how life like this goes.
alex cooper: like a microscope on your relationship?
y/n l/n: exactly. made stuff super stressful, especially since we started dating when we were 19.
alex cooper: shit, 5 years is longer than i thought!
y/n l/n: we grew up together, had so many highlights and growing pains, and i don't want to get on your show and wallow or pout, that's really not what i feel. and i hope no one thinks anyone did anything wrong, it's just a growth thing. some people, as they grow, grow differently. and apart, i guess.
alex cooper: but you still have love for each other, i know that for sure.
y/n l/n: i'll never ever lose that love, i don't think.
Liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, and 1,264,997 others
landonorris Quite a birthday today! Another year around the sun, another year of me kissing your face. Love you the most.
user1 yassss OUR girlfriend!
yourusername To the moon and back baby!!!!
yourusername Not pictured: his slobber on my cheek
landonorris You quite like my slobber, no? oscarpiastri I surely don't
user2: you two really are growing up together :')
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Liked by zendaya, kendalljenner, and 1,754,132 others
yourusername Sweet boy took me for a picnic, had too much wine hahaha. Thank you all for the birthday wishes, my heart is singing!!!! 23, woah am I close to getting old?
user1 SWEET BOY oh you people are sick
landonorris The most stunning girl, even napping
landonorris and yes you're old now user2 CORNYYYY (i'm ready to end it all) user3 "you're old now" and what are you??
emrata Wine's always a good idea
bellahadid happy birthday baby! come visit soon
user4 does that say lando on her necklace . i'm gonna snap soon
sza Loveeeee. U my favorite, Happy Solar Return!
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f1gossipcentral submission from a fan today in monaco:
i met lando today with a few others, he was so nice! we didn't want to ask flat out about y/n, he actually brought her up in passing when someone mentioned being from the same hometown as her, and he pointed it out himself. he didn't have the same energy we're used to when speaking about her, but it's obvious there was love in his voice, a lot of it. he's still got her friendship bracelet she made him last year on, but i think it's the type you'd have to cut to get off. regardless, i hope the best for him, and her too.
user1 you're telling me just the name of her hometown and he BLURTS about her?? AFTER being broken up??? yeah we're never seeing pearly gates atp
user2 is this what a broken home feels like?
user3 SHATTERED home. and yes. user4 y/n lando please. come home the kids miss you
user5: single y/n...don't hate me but i would love a baddie era
user6: oh this is not a safe space for you.
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#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#social media au#f1 social media au#f1 instagram au#f1 instagram edit
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Jinx just never really liked Vander that much.
One of the things that, to me, seemed like a main theme in Jinx's arc in season 1 was the contrast between her two families, and how her switch from Vander's daughter to Silco's drastically changes the way her personality takes shape.
And I hate that the fandom, and now the show, too, has reduced Silco to an unhealthy influence in Jinx's life, pushing her towards her "bad" side (being Jinx) when, for all his flaws... he gives her a better childhood than she ever had with Vander. The first three episodes of the first season, to me, when I watched them, illustrate quite clearly that Powder feels unhappy in her family life. She is the most mal-adjusted of Vander's kids. Her older brother constantly berates her, and it's quite clearly having a big effect on her self-image. She later takes up the Jinx name and persona once she feels like she has become irredeemable as a person. Her other brother never defends her. Vi is the only one who is there for her, and they care for each other, but at the same time you can see there's still a little insecurity in their relationship. Vi is worried that maybe Powder is indeed too weak, and Powder worries that maybe Vi does indeed see her as a Jinx like her brother does.
And when it comes to Vander... he's just not really all that present in her life. And I don't blame him, the man has four kids to take care of, on top of keeping things running in the Undercity. It's clearly not his intention. But it doesn't change the fact that he's not there for Powder, not as much as she needs. To me, when I watched the first season, it seemed like Vander was a figure that felt far away to Powder, someone that she admired but also feared being completely herself around, and someone that she ultimately wished to be closer to than she actually was. It's worth mentioning that Jinx never says his name post time skip, and he is not a hallucination for her, not until Vi brings him up in the finale. Hell, Claggor is somehow a hallucination for her and he never even speaks. Vander was just not an influential figure in Jinx's life.
I always found the scene at the end of ep3 of s1 fascinating, because Powder never once mourns Vander. She never once cries for him and never once says his name. When she sees his dead body, she becomes shocked and starts crying, but it's not actually what breaks her. What breaks her is Vi's rejection. Had it just been that she accidentally caused the deaths of her brothers and adoptive father, she would not have crumbled mentally. It's Vi's rejection that destroys her. Now, of course, a little girl that cares more about her sister's affection towards her than the lives of her family members is kinda messed up, but that's what makes her character interesting. And we can see that that little girl doesn't go anywhere, as Jinx displays the exact same one-mindness about her sister. Because Jinx and Powder were never really that different, after all.
She is quite clearly placed with her back to Vander's body, that she never turns to, barely looks at, only enough to recognize him and see he's dead, and never says the name of. She's turned towards Vi, calling for Vi, crying because of Vi, and no one else. Heck, Vi had just been crying over his body a few moment ago. Vi is clearly distraught over his death. Vi is devastated, she literally punches her sister and curses her in the exact worst possible way she can, in the way she know it will hurt her sister the most. But Powder... she just honestly dgaf.
So to then hear Jinx say this line in season 2...
...is just straight up jarring. I was pulled out of the story when I heard this. This is Jinx saying this to Vi. This kinda makes it seem like it was Jinx who was most attached to Vander, or at least that she was just as attached to him as Vi was. Which is just not how things seemed in the story at literally any point until this one. And then season 2 continues this way, and somehow makes Jinx seem like the closest daughter to Vander. Flipping Warwick literally acts more attached to Jinx than Vander ever did to Powder. Like literally. Season 1 clearly sets up that Vi is the favorite daughter, and then they just... flip it?? Warwick cares more for Jinx and responds better to her than to Vi. It's actually insane. It's true they sanitized Jinx's character to hell and back this season, but this is a straight-up rewrite. I can't wrap my mind around why they did this. Plus, the entirety of act 2 they set up this weird and pointless arc of Jinx rekindling her relationship with Vander or something... and like literally her story was genuinely never about that.
(This COULD have been Vi's story. And that might have actually been cool, and made sense. Maybe Vi is the one who finds him, and she is the one who helps him calm down. And then she brings Jinx, and maybe Jinx is terrified because she was never that close to Vander, and then she literally killed him, so seeing him again is the last thing she wants. Maybe VI is the one who tells Jinx that "he was your dad, too", which would make A LOT more sense, and maybe that's the first time that Jinx thinks that oh, yeah, he was... And then maybe they have a cute moment where Vander forgives her. Or maybe she sees the state he's in right now and loses it completely. Or maybe they look at each other and they both see the monster each of them has become. And then maybe Vi looks down at the enforcer uniform she's wearing, and, privately, sees it too. Idk. The things we could have had.)
Silco was actually a good dad to Jinx, in all the ways that Vander wasn't. He gives her all the attention that she never had before. He not only listens to her, but actively asks for her side of the story. He never insults her, and he defends her against Sevika. He trusts her and gives her opportunities to prove she's capable. She goes from being one of four siblings, and getting lost in the shuffle and often ending up feeling forgotten and alone, to being the most important child, always taken into consideration and almost put on a pedestal by her dad (this, like, has to have cured some inner wounds, i think).
Silco understands Jinx better than any other character in the show, and I'm genuinely sad that we didn't get to see any flashback of Jinx growing up with him. Because their relationship was so unique, and so integral to Jinx's character and to the rest of the story, that the fact that we never get to see any other glimpse into their bond is just...
As a final note, I'd also like to add that I dislike when people say that Silco "groomed" Jinx. I think a much more realistic analysis is that he enabled her. And as for all the times he tells Jinx that Vi "betrayed her", that's just a reflection of his own trauma, and also because he fears that if Jinx knew Vi was alive, she would go back to her and leave him (which, considering what goes down in the s1 finale, not an unfounded fear). It's wrong that he does that, but it's not out of malicious intent (also tbh Jinx never really seems to believe him anyway).
And for all the people who say that Silco "turned Jinx into a terrorist" (dumbest people in this fandom fr, im sorry), that's just straight up not true. Powder was already like that. That is quite literally why Silco adopts her. Because he sees that she's like him. Silco would not have taken Powder in if he thought she was just a cute, innocent kid who was orphaned (to, what, raise her for years so that, MAYBE when she's older, she MIGHT be useful to him? when they meet he doesn't know she's the one that caused the explosion, he just knows that she's been abandoned by Vi). This is the kid who thought playing around with explosives was a fun hobby. This is the kid who giggled at the thought of hurting others. This is the kid who already suffered from explosive emotions. This is the kid who saw her father and her brothers dead, because of her, and all she cared about was whether her sister was mad at her because of it. This is the kid who throws herself at the first person she sees, someone who her sister hates, who is the cause of all this destruction, and with an anger that shocks most viewers, declares that Vi is not her sister anymore. She is livid in that one moment.
Powder already had it in her from the beginning. And it's also ok to like a character (and to write one) even if they are not 100% morally pure in every single way under the sun, cause that is quite literally what stories are for.
#arcane critical#jinx arcane#silco arcane#vander arcane#arcane season 2#had to get this off my chest#ik other people have written about this too#but i wanted to make my own post so shhh#i don't even like silco that much but people are being insane about him#this is just yap really
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You know... >.>
My Dad always used to tell me, if I get a Genuine Genie(tm)? Get a lawyer first. Before I make my Wishes(tm), so they can help me word them correctly.
Obviously, a human lawyer would not be foolproof... BUT! What about a Ghost Lawyer?
Like? Obviously Desiree would be PISSED. How DARE you twist HER wish twisting! Her THING is "what you believe is your heart's desire always comes at a terrible cost" which is what she DIED to learn.
So obviously she would NEVER, willingly, bend her Obsession for ANYONE. And you'd have to make a DAMN good case to that Lawyer for why he ISNT breaking the law by helping you. Probably some "you can: save the life of an unconscious person against their will/shove an unobservant person OFF the train tracks, even if they get hurt, to save their life" clause.
Like? Using a ghosts Obsession against them? Bad. Illegal.
Using it against their will, to save OTHER ghosts, who are in immediate danger? Not illegal, but they will be PISSED. Still not great though, you will want to apologize and fast.
So like??? Reality Bending Power. Patrick Star Method of "what if we MOVED the city... somewhere else?" Considered at 1am. Team of Ghost Laywers, acquired.
Amity and all Limnals are REMOVED from the DP-verse.
Wish worded juuuuust so. Any ghost that forms there? Yoink! Instantly removed to the Zone. Natural Portals? Cut off. Let the whole Reality fade out at an accelerated rate, as no NEW energy is fed into the system. Entropy will do, what entropy does. Exactly as they wished it.
They hated Death so much, they speed up the heat death of their ENTIRE universe by Eons. Congratulations, you guys "Won". Enjoy the wildly more fragile flora, fauna, and general ecosystems. Now that none of you have that ambient Ectoplasm strengthening your bodies. Yeah, the things you used to shrug off? Those are gonna maim or kill you now.
Doesn't MATTER if you "learn your lesson" though! Cause this is WAY past that point! This is "cutting off the tumor before it kills us" territory, and buddy? Amity ISNT the tumor. Go forth a grow, just like you wanted.
They won't be here to fix your messes anymore.
Because Danny got himself a dictionary thick "I Wish..." contract. Which was worded, as it needs to be, in one loooooooong run on sentence. Shouted "I Wish what's written on THIS, as it is currently, and without any form of editing or negotiation!" As fast as he could. Yote the document in Desiree's direction. And Flew like an INCANDESCENTLY pissed off Genie was trying to set his everything of fire.
Which she was.
Thankfully, Paulina came in clutch with her History of all things Jewelry, world fashions, and Make-Up knowledge. That, coupled with the Power Of Rich Friends(tm)? (Sam. Her mother was THRILLED to take her Jewelry and clothing shopping for something other then blacks and dark purple. They went on a jet setting whurl-wind tour. Sam actually kinda liked a some of what she found.)
They have Apology Bribes.
They shamelessly HIDE behind the mountain of Apology Bribes, while they explain themselves. Is Desiree HAPPY? No. But those bracelets are magnificent and she DOES deserve nice things. Those silks will really bring out her eyes. And she... DOES... admit...
Maybe...
That things are not... SAFE. Any longer. Danny TRIES. Everyone else can see it. And he's made incredible strides! Even convinced his lunatic parents. Though they're still not quite POPULAR. (WAY too pushy and invasive with their questions, for most people.) But the fanatics in white?
They nearly killed Box Lunch. If her father hadn't BEEN there...
And the poor man will have that scar on his back for the rest of his afterlife. Desiree can see why Danny is pushing. Does she LIKE it? No. But...
She supposes she will content herself with the suffering of the Fanatics in White and all who support them. THEIR wishes, twisted. Their ugly heart's desires.
Fine.
"SO YOU WISH IT. SO IT SHALL BE!"
And? The ghost town of what WOULD of one day grown into Amity, had the witch's there not been found by those they had fled from, which sits in long rotted ruins, amongst the trees in nowhere Illinois? Poof! Two "Towns" are switched.
The roads out of town coming to a clean line stop, meeting not even goat paths. Just trees. Old growth.
But it's not ALL of Town, is it? Faces missing. New, confused, faces from every corner of the map, taking their place. No Limnal left behind. No supporter of the GIWs genocide, brought along. Family's kept together where they could be. But by the few, scared and upset, green flashing eyes of children in the crowd?
It seemed for some, it was easier to fear and hate, then love their children.
Already they were being gathered up by school teachers and PTA parents. As everyone tried to figure out what had happened. Concerned, quite muttering a dull roar as everyone tries to coordinate.
Red Huntress joins Danny and Dani in the Sky. She doesn't get a word in. Wanted to know what the HELL was going on. She was with her dad in Chicago! Dani was in Taiwan! Literally! As in, sitting in a SUBWAY station one second, the next? Outside!
But they don't get to demand those answers. Because there is a sonic boom on the horizon. And then? Floating... weird... not ghosts?
Uuuuuuhhhh?
Hi?
That much blue... sure is a Statement. Like the cape and... bloooomers? Shorts. Bikini bottoms? It.. it's a Cool Look, dude! No, really. They are being VERY supportive here! If YOU like it? That's the only thing that matters!
Red Huntress smacks the Danny/i's Repeated upside their heads and demans to know what the Not-Ghosts are doing in their airspace.
Oh YEAH. Good point! What she said! And can it WAIT? They're kinda going through A Thing right now...
Kon? Wants it on record he loves these guys. They're hilarious. The LOOK on Clark's FACE?? He wishes he could frame it. Preserve it for future generations. Thing is? There was NOT a town here a second ago.
Well, bout 30 minutes or so, but you get the idea. One moment? Tree noises. Bam! Thousands of people! Obviously the checked it out. Only to be met with two... three maybe? Heros who have NO IDEA who they are.
Clear Reality warping shenanigans. Might be time travel or multiverse. Question is... are they STAYING? And if SO? What now...
@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @dcxdpdabbles @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter
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You and Eddie are trapped in the drama club after school in the middle of a thunderstorm. Feelings ensue.
I was going to post this tomorrow but I'm feeling kinda crappy so am posting it now ♥️ this is enemies to oh my god I'm falling for you fic.
💞
Hawkins was in the middle of the worst storm it had seen in years. The rain hadn't stopped since this morning and you could hear thunder rumbling in the distance.
All in all you wished you were tucked up at home right now instead of making your way to the drama room.
You weren't sure what possessed you to even bother going to find Eddie. Surely you had seen enough of him today that avoiding him would be a no brainer.
Eddie had been your enemy from the day the two of you first met. You met him at a talent show in middle school and were performing with your fellow cheerleaders, Eddie was performing with his band Corroded Coffin and the two of you met backstage and well sparks flew and not in a good way.
He looked different then. A buzz cut and a little less dramatic but still the same smug smile and condescending tone. That meeting kick-started the war between the two of you.
Except his stupid little barb aimed at you had been playing on your mind all day. He loved irritating you and spent a good portion doing it earlier.
Even worse he had left his metal lunchbox at your shared table in Mrs O'Donnell's class and you weren't carrying that monstrosity around all weekend.
So you decided to show up at Hellfire, straight after cheer practice to return the item. You don't want to spend any more time with Eddie than necessary so you'll make this quick.
You can hear him setting up for Hellfire and muttering to himself. Taking a deep breath you head inside the drama room and he peers up at you, irritation on his face.
"Princess to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?" He says with a hint of derision in his tone and you hurry over to place the lunchbox on the table. Now you could get far far away from the asshat as possible.
"You left this at our table Munson" his face softens into relief as he picks up the metal lunch then he scowls.
"You can go now" he motions to the door and you feel a flicker of annoyance. Couldn't he thank you for returning it at least?
"Could you at least have some manners" you huff and he smirks as he sets up one of the figures in his campaign.
"Thank you for returning it princess, now go away" he returns back to positioning the figures and you growl under your breath. He's still smiling and you're distracted for a split second at the tattoos on his arm, the bats. You've never seen them this close before and a part of you wants to reach out and touch one of them.
Wait...what the fuck? You really needed to get away from Munson, you could never think straight around him. He made you muddled at times.
"You know you really should see someone about your anger issues around me sweetheart" he suggests with a smirk and you gawk at him.
"What! You're the one who is constantly pissing me off. I swear you get some sick joy out of it" there's a faint crackling of a radio and Eddie picks up a walkie talkie completely ignoring what you said.
"Eddie, we can't get out. I'm with Mike and Lucas and Mrs Wheeler has put her foot down. She says the storm is too bad for driving" Eddie grumbles and swears under his breath.
"Henderson it's not even that bad" at that point there's a huge clap of thunder that makes you jump. It's not like you hate storms, you like them well enough but you'd prefer to be at home and cosy.
Preferably not with Munson either. You raise your eyebrow at him and he meets your gaze giving you one half of his devil sign.
Okay, you've had enough now and storm away from him, the wind whips at your hair but you don't care. You'll walk home, it won't take that long.
"Bye bye princess" Eddie waves at you from the drama door and you resist the urge to flip him the bird. Rise about it... Rise about it. Don't tell him to kiss your ass...
You're so wrapped up in your thoughts that you almost miss the tree you're sheltering under jerk violently in the wind and one of its roots rips off. It's massive.
There's a split second of silence, you freeze and fear pounds in your chest and you're sure that the tree root will crush you but just at the last minute you're knocked out of the way.
You and Eddie crash to the ground in a tangle of limbs. He's breathing hard and his arms are wrapped around you tightly. "Shit, you okay?"
There's a ringing in your ears and you're shaking but manage to calm down enough that Eddie helps you up. "Yeah, I'm okay" you shiver as the rain water has drenched your clothes and there's a stinging sensation on your arm.
"I need to patch that cut up princess, there should be a first aid kit somewhere in the drama room" he leads you inside and the both of you don't notice the door shut tightly. Usually it's propped open with something but in your haste to get back inside the item is disregarded.
Eddie is too focused on you to notice, worry etches his features. He leaves briefly and comes back with a first aid kit.
He's quiet as he patches up the cut on your arm and you access him for injuries, "Are you okay Eddie?" It's maybe the first time you've called him Eddie and not Munson or dumbass.
"I'm okay, he speaks in a soothing tone and that relaxes you as he looks over your body for any injuries. There's a faint cut on your knee and Eddie kneels down to patch that up as well.
He hesitates for a second then gently cleans the cut, his fingers on your skin do funny things to your stomach. A shiver (a good one) runs down your spine.
Eddie's pretty brown eyes don't help the fluttering in your stomach. Fuck.
♥️
Eddie tries to pry the door open once he notices it's shut fully. The two of you are going to try and at least get to his van, he had offered to drive you home. Which was nice of him. He had been nicer than you ever thought he could be today.
"Ahh shit, Eddie curses and he manages to get the door open but it shuts again right away with the force of the wind.
"We should wait until that calms down" you suggest and he nods in trepidation. It's getting quite late and the sky is darkening even more. The storm hasn't abated yet... The wind is still fierce and the rain is coming down albeit a little less than before but it's still bad.
You're still shivery and curse the thin fabric of your cheer uniform. Eddie nudges your shoulder and you notice that he's slipped his leather jacket over to you.
"Thanks" you murmur and he nods tightly, his legs jittery as he waits for the storm to pass.
"Um so is the band good?" You nod to his discarded denim vest and the band Dio on the back of it. Eddie smiles and nods. "Mmm yeah, don't think it would be your type of thing princess"
"I went to see Black Sabbath with my cousin Jamie. He's like a massive fan of Ozzy Osbourne, it wasn't too bad" Eddie's jaw drops and his eyes are wide as he gazes at you.
"I know I'm just full of surprises aren't I Munson?" you tease and he's still speechless.
"You saw the god that is Ozzy Osbourne?" you shrug and feel flustered under his awed gaze. It's making you feel all tingly. Something that has happened more and more around Eddie.
"I never thought I'd see the day that you were speechless Eddie Munson" you smirk then wince as a particular loud boom of thunder startles you.
You wrap Eddie's jacket around you and nuzzle into it. It smells faintly of weed and cigarettes but also whatever cologne Eddie wears, it's nice and it comforts you.
"I might be able to get some pillows and shit from the staff room, I don't know how long we will have to wait, we might need to stay here for the night or until the storm fades a bit" Eddie says and gets up.
You notice he has to keep moving and busy. It must be so he doesn't freak out. The storm is worse than either of you thought it was.
"How are you going to do that? It will be locked wouldn't it?" He grins and doesn't seem to be perturbed by this in the slightest.
"The nurses office could have blankets too. We should go there" you tell him and he nods then frowns.
"You should stay here princess. I will probably need to break in and well...everyone expects the freak to get into shit don't they, not Hawkins good girl" you scoff but feel sympathy that people think so badly of him.
It wasn't like you thought he was an asshole all the time, he definitely had his moments of being sweet...
"You need my help to get blankets if the nurse has some and the pillows. Snacks too possibly and I'm the only one with a bag and cash on me" he thinks about this then nods in agreement.
Somehow you and Eddie manage to wrangle a big blanket from the nurses office and cushions from the sofa in the teachers lounge. Also a few snacks to last the night. Eddie gulps his yoo hoo down before the two of you even get back to the drama room.
You try to make a somewhat makeshift bed on the floor with the cushions and blanket. Just in case.
Eddie is still restless but calms down when you get up to look over the campaign. There's a Dungeons and Dragons handbook on the table and a notebook that looks like it's full of Eddie's own notes.
He points out the different figures and you listen interested in the complexity of the game and take a seat on the throne like chair. "That's my spot" Eddie frowns and you settle back grinning.
"I like this spot" you beam and he shakes his head exasperated.
"Alright, looks like you're the dungeon master for the night princess" you smirk at this and turn to Eddie.
"Does that mean I can tell you what to do?" He chuckles, and shakes his head.
"That's not what a Dungeon Master is, I organise the campaign, weave the challenges the rest of the team face, shit like that. I love it" you pout at his explanation and Eddie gazes at your lips for a few seconds. Enough for your heart to skip a beat.
"Um what's a Demogorgon?" You ask feeling nervous all of a sudden and Eddie explains what it is but that funny tension is still in the air.
Even with the wind whistling outside you and Eddie don't notice. Bickering and far too wrapped up in each other to notice.
🖤
At some point near ten you feel your eyes begin to get heavy and stifle a yawn. You try to fight the feeling but one minute Eddie is talking to you and the next your head drops on his shoulder.
When Eddie wakes up you're still fast asleep on his shoulder and it makes his heart race. It feels so...right being with you like this.
It's six am according to the clock on the wall above the door. It surprised him that he slept so well but he thinks it has a little something to do with you.
Gently he tucks a strand of hair away from your face, feels the softness of your skin and a pit of longing forms in his stomach.
Fuck, he really wants you.
The storm has calmed down and he finds that he's disappointed. He's enjoyed speaking to you, more than he ever thought possible. What did that mean?
You wake up while he's pondering this. It's still dark out and now the storm has all but disappeared. Eddie feels cold when you shift from his shoulder, looking away shyly.
"Sorry, I didn't realise" you murmured and his fingers graze over yours.
"You don't have to apologise sweetheart, it was nice princess" a soft silence lingers over the two of you and you sigh.
"The weather seems to have cleared up" there's a wistful tone to your voice. Eddie wonders if you're as disappointed as him that you're free to leave.
"I had a really great time with you" you turn to him and he smiles pleased.
"You're not so bad yourself" he nudges you gently and he leans close to you, instinctively you mimic his movements. The two of you are so close now, sparks flying and the longing growing even more.
His lips are centimetres from yours and there's only a tiny gap, you're eager to close the distance. Just as your lips touch the door bangs open and Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Steve rush in.
You and Eddie wrench apart. "Eddie dude, what the hell happened?" Dustin gawks at you and you hurry over to where Steve is feeling flustered as hell.
Eddie's eyes meet yours while Dustin is talking to him and you realise that maybe Eddie hasn't been your enemy for a long time and something else has been brewing between you two all along.
...
💞
...
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson imagine#enemies to lovers#eddie munson
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push and pull (part two) (end)
pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach
summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.
content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment
» intro post | part one
» masterlist
When Zach wakes up the next morning, he fully understands the term hangxiety.
His temples pound as he stares at his ceiling. At some point last night, he slipped from tipsy into drunk.
Thankfully, he didn’t get so wasted that he’s forgetting anything. But then again, that means every time he made an ass of himself is a memory etched into his brain.
He remembers welcoming his date. Having a decent time with her. Walking her downstairs. Her lips on his cheek when she kissed him goodbye. Feeling like something was missing, and then, that something wasn’t missing anymore when you came downstairs to let him in.
And he remembers looking over at you across the party. Wishing he was next to you. Feeling crappy for thinking about you while he was with another girl. Knowing he was idiot for thinking he could ignore his feelings for you and date someone else.
Talking to you in the elevator. Crap.
He buries his head into his pillow. Why did he blabber to you like that? His brother would kill him if he knew what he said. He probably already wants to kill him for loudly proclaiming how much he loves him in the hallway. Rafe’s not one for any sort of PDA.
Zach picks up his phone to text you: Trauma dumping to you was just a dream I had, right? Please tell me it didn’t actually happen.
You reply minutes later: you mean in the elevator? definitely a dream.
Despite his embarrassment, he smiles at his screen.
He replies: Sorry about that.
You send another text: it’s no problem. i’m guessing you have a pretty bad hangover.
He replies: Everything hurts.
You text back: make sure to hydrate and rest ok?
Zach smiles again. He can’t help but daydream about you coming over, taking care of him, cuddling him.
He’s worried about the consequences of things going wrong if he got into a relationship with you. But God, does he want you.
He replies: Ok :)
When he eventually leaves his bedroom, he sees Rafe lounging on the couch, still in his pajamas. Surprisingly, his brother actually tidied up.
It gives him hope that Rafe really is trying to improve himself. He’s had his fair share of meltdowns and Zach’s had a front row seat to all of them, watching his brother break down into tears, spiralling into his toxic, self-hating thoughts.
Once he calms down, every time, Rafe talks about how he knows he’s not a good person, that he wants to be better. But then, he sticks to his bad habits. He never gets the help he needs, even though Zach encourages him to.
Nonetheless, Zach never saw the bad in Rafe that he’s so adamant is there. At his worst, he can be violent, drunkenly throwing punches at parties, but Zach knows it’s a result of his emotional scars.
“Shit,” Rafe chuckles when he sees Zach. “You’re alive.”
“Barely.” Zach sinks onto the other side of the couch, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back. “You cleaned up for once.”
“Did you just say for once? I’m always cleaning up, asshole,” he mutters, making Zach laugh.
“I hope the neighbors don’t hate us,” Zach says. “The party got kinda loud last night.”
“This guy’s thinking about the neighbors,” Rafe says with a scoff. “The girl you were with looked like she was into you. Bet she would’ve stayed the night.”
“Maybe,” Zach says with a shrug, thinking back to his date.
Then, Rafe says he thinks you might be into him, too, considering he caught you staring. And Zach’s pulse picks up.
He loves and hates hearing that. Because if you really do like him back, it’s exciting, but that makes it even more crushing that he can’t pursue anything.
“Maybe,” Zach echoes.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Rafe laughs, thinking about how good you looked last night. “I’d jump on that if I had the chance.”
“But you don’t have the chance,” Zach murmurs. “If you love me, you won’t jump on any of my friends.”
Zach sits up and looks at his brother.
“By the way, you never said you love me back last night. I’m still waiting.”
“Yeah,” Rafe snorts. “You can keep waiting.”
────୨ৎ────
On Monday morning, you finally get a response from a student you found online who’s selling a used textbook you need.
You’d rather not go by yourself, so you text the group chat: i need to go to a stranger’s house to buy a textbook tonight. is anyone down to tag along so i’m not alone?
To your relief, Zach texts the group a minute later: I got you :)
That evening, you’re knocking on his front door. Instead of Zach, though, Rafe answers.
“Hi,” you say. “Is Zach around? He’s supposed to come with me to pick a textbook up.”
“Haven’t heard him since he got home,” he says, turning to look up the stairs. “I’ll get him.”
A minute later, Rafe comes down, keys jingling in his hand.
“He’s sleeping,” he says. “I can take you. I was about to go for a drive anyway.”
“Cool,” you say. “Thanks.”
You watch him lean over to slip on his sneakers, his frame broad and tall. It’s surprising that Zach, who’s usually reliable, forgot about your plans. And that Rafe, who you’ve come to known as hot and cold, is willing to help you.
He locks the door behind him before you make your way down the hallway together.
“He must be tired after practice,” you say, well aware of the team’s training schedule.
“Yeah, when he’s asleep, he’s out.”
You smirk to yourself, imagining Zach adorably bundled up in his bed. You already know he’s going to apologize profusely once he realizes he accidentally bailed on you.
“It’s only ten minutes away,” you tell Rafe. “I just wanted someone with me since it’s some random guy I don’t know selling it.”
“Zach didn’t offer to just buy a new one for you?” he asks.
“No,” you laugh, entering the elevator. “Why would he?”
Rafe doesn’t get Zach sometimes. It’s insane that he’s not into you, that he sleeps through plans with you, that he doesn’t offer to buy you something that probably only costs a few hundred dollars.
“Want me to?” Rafe asks. You have to laugh.
“It’s okay,” you say. “I already set all this up. Do you always offer to buy girls school supplies?”
He bites his tongue. If Zach wasn’t so adamant about m not being allowed to try to hook up with you, he’d flirt and say yes, he buys all kinds of things for beautiful girls.
“Not always,” he settles for.
The elevator doors open. You enter the parking garage and follow Rafe to his car, settling into the cushioned passenger seat. He starts the engine, then offers the cable hooked up his radio to you.
“Already know you have good taste,” Rafe says. You smile, plugging your phone in.
You’re Zach’s friend, but he figures you can be his friend, too. Because he wants to get to know what he can about you, to flatter you and joke with you and talk to you, even though the night won’t be ending with you in his bed. He has fun with you. He’ll take what he can get.
He backs out of his parking spot, putting his hand against the back of your headrest as he looks through the rear window. You gaze up at his profile, taking in just how handsome he is, how nice his cologne smells.
Rafe doesn’t know the song you put on, but he likes it. He turns forward in his seat, driving out of the garage.
You chat about your days and even though it’s small-talk, it doesn’t feel like it. There’s an ease with Rafe that you can’t really compare to with anyone else.
Still, he’s kind of intimidating, but you naturally want to keep challenging this way he makes you feel, cracking the wall he has up.
When you reach the house at the end of a dark street, Rafe parks in the driveway, turns his key and takes it out of ignition.
“You can wait here,” you offer.
“Nah,” he mumbles. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’m not letting you go alone.”
With Rafe standing behind you as you knock on the front door, the feeling of him protecting you is intoxicating, making your heart pound harder.
The door swings open and you greet the man you’ve been messaging. He’s holding the textbook you need and when you offer him four twenties, he looks through the bills and shakes his head.
“We said $100,” he says.
“No,” you reply. “$80. You said $80 was good.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I have the texts to prove it,” you laugh in disbelief.
“Really, man?” Rafe mutters. “Just give her the book.”
“$100,” he repeats.
“Forget it,” Rafe says. He steps forward, roughly taking your money out of his hand and pulling you by the waist. “I’ll just get you a new one.”
“No, wait,” the guy calls. “$80’s fine.”
“Get fucked,” Rafe mutters. You follow him to the car, still mentally catching up to what just happened. “Trying to scam you over twenty dollars. What a joke.”
You settle in the car, feeling Rafe’s warm, big hand curl your fingers open so he can give you your money back.
He’s fuming, beyond pissed off that someone would try to trick you like that. He’s glad you didn’t come by yourself to have to deal with this idiot alone. And he’s not sure how Zach would’ve handled it.
“How much is a new book?” he asks.
“Like, $250,” you tell him.
“I got it covered, alright?” he says. “Give me your phone.”
You comply, still a little jarred but appreciating how quickly he swept in to help you. You watch him enter digits, call himself to get your number, then hang up.
He returns your phone and takes his out, taps on your number, and quickly opens up a bank app.
“You really don’t have to,” you say.
“It’s fine.”
Within a minute, he sends you $250. It’s bizarre how he’s acting like that much money is nothing. Like he’s giving you change he owes you.
Rafe exhales slowly, starting his car again, coming down from the daze. This happens a lot. It’s like he blacks out when he gives in to his impulses.
But what can he do? He has a weak spot for you and he hates the idea of someone doing you wrong, of him not helping you when he’s totally capable of it.
He scratches his forehead. Zach’s words resonate in his head, telling him he needs to cool down and think before he does things. Sometimes his temper flares with no warning.
He’s sure he came off way too intense. He doesn’t know how to apologize for it. Before he can speak, you do.
“Can you come with me every time I have to buy something?” you say lightheartedly. It eases some of the tension in his chest.
“Was that too much?” he says, tone low.
You smile to yourself. You wouldn’t call it too much. He seems like he’s an intense, passionate person. Beneath the surface, Rafe feels more than he lets on.
“You didn’t let a guy con me, then you bought me a $250 book,” you reply with a laugh. “Trust me, you’re good. Thank you.”
Your phone buzzes with a text from Zach as you back out of the driveway. Crap I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Did you come over?
You reply: all good! i figured you were exhausted. rafe went with me.
“Guess who’s awake,” you say, the smile apparent in your tone. Rafe glances over at your profile as you text back.
He hates this about himself, the envy that pushes him to be sure that Zach is so much better than him. That every girl, if given the chance, would pick his brother over him.
“So, you were going to go for a drive?” you say, tucking your phone away. Because of his kind gestures tonight, you’re pretty sure that he likes hanging out with you. “Want company?”
Rafe taps his hand against the steering wheel. Even if this is just platonic, he doesn’t want you to leave his car.
“If I can pick the music,” he says.
“You said I had good taste.”
“Mine’s better.”
You laugh, and because he held your waist just a few minutes ago, you don’t feel apprehensive to touch him. You nudge his shoulder. He smirks.
An hour goes by like a minute. When Rafe and you part, your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing with him.
You talked together nonstop, touching on the most random subjects, finding similarities and differences. You have a deep crush on him. There’s no denying it.
When Rafe watches you step out of his car, he realizes that this isn’t just attraction like he’s used to. He feels like he knows you. And he likes you. It’s exciting and scary.
When Rafe makes it home, Zach is in the kitchen, the whole loft smelling like delicious food.
“You actually remembered how to get home?” Zach teases over the sound of ingredients sizzling in a pan.
“Lost track of time,” Rafe says. He settles on a barstool as Zach stands at the range, trying not to burn dinner.
Zach is glad his back is to his brother, because when Rafe tells him that he was with you that entire time, driving around and talking, his eyebrows furrow in anger and jealousy before he can subdue it.
“But before you lose your shit,” Rafe adds, “it was all friendly, okay?”
“Right,” Zach mumbles. He stares down at the pan, trying to breathe through his prickly frustration. He’s unbelievably mad at himself for falling asleep after practice.
You can do whatever you want, he knows that, but he feels that even though it’s just as a friend, you’re his, not Rafe’s. And his brother getting to spend time with you feels painfully unfair.
────୨ৎ────
The bright stadium lights pool over the deep green soccer field. It’s a cool evening, perfect for a match.
Cold seeps in through your jeans as you sit on the metal bench on the sideline. You have your phone at the ready to film the team as they rush the field for a home game.
You’ve grown to love your job. You found great friends, the TikTok account is earning more traction, and you’ve started to genuinely enjoy coming out to games and cheering on your school’s team.
It’s been almost a week since your night with Rafe. You haven’t seen him or Zach since. You welcome the distance. Liking them both is ridiculously confusing.
Minutes pass. The crowd is getting louder. The team still isn’t out on the field. Your dad runs a tight ship, so it’s weird that they’re late.
You head into the stadium tunnel towards the locker room, curiosity nagging you. A group of players are standing outside the door and you approach Chance.
“What’s going on?” you ask.
“Something’s up with Zach,” Chance tells you. Alarm rushes through you and you step into the locker room without a second thought.
Zach’s sitting on the bench by his locker, hunched over, surrounded by your dad, the team’s medic, and a few other players.
“Is everything okay?” you ask.
Zach looks up at you. His eyes are sunken, his lips parted. And then, he loses consciousness.
When his eyelids flutter open, the brightness of the room is so painful that he has to squint.
“He’s up,” he hears. It’s you. He hasn’t heard your voice in a while. He misses it.
He slowly comes to, realizing he’s in a hospital bed. You’re sitting to his left. The team medic is standing at the end of the bed with a doctor. He’s hooked up to an IV.
“What happened?” he rasps.
“You’re dehydrated,” the medic explains, leaning over to hand a plastic cup of water to Zach. “You’re at Trinity Hospital. You’re okay. Drink.”
Zach weakly picks it up, downing the cool water, his throat feeling raw. He rolls his head to look at you again. He knows it’s wrong, but he’s relieved that you look so concerned for him. That you’re here.
The doctor introduces herself, then explains that Zach was unconscious for so long that she’d prefer to keep him overnight to monitor him.
The news makes everything in him twist with worry and frustration. He just wants to go home. He doesn’t want Rafe to spiral.
“Okay,” he says. “I’m alright, though?”
“I’m not worried,” the doctor replies. “I just want to be sure you’re in good shape before I send you home.”
Within a few minutes, the doctor leaves the room. Then, the medic encourages Zach to drink more fluids, calls the coach to update him, and asks if you want to head back together now that you’re sure Zach’s okay.
You politely decline. You’re too worried to leave him alone so fast. And shortly after, it’s just you two in the room, listening to the beeps of Zach’s pulse.
“Dehydrated?” you say playfully, but still worried. “What the hell, Cameron?”
“I know,” he says with a smile. He regrets going hard at the gym today. He’s sure that’s what did it. “Rookie move.”
“I specifically told you to hydrate like, two days ago.”
Zach’s laugh is boyish. He reaches for your hand and squeezes. You remind yourself it’s likely nothing more than a friendly gesture.
“That was hangover advice,” he says. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand.
“It was life advice, actually.” You inhale slowly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
He lets go of your hand, remembering you can hear his pulse right now and not wanting to risk you witnessing it beat faster.
“It was way more than two days ago, by the way,” he says. He threads his fingers through his hair, suddenly self-conscious of how bad he must look right now. “Where’ve you been?”
You look down at your lap. You’ve been declining all the invitations to hang out in the group chat because the past few days have been so confusing.
Seeing Zach with another girl was painful, and then, you realized just how unimportant you felt to him when he slept through your plans, even though it was by mistake. You need time and space to stop liking him before you can hang out again.
“School’s been kicking my ass,” you lie.
“Do you need help?” he asks. He’d do anything to have you around again.
“Leave it to you to be in a hospital bed asking if you can help,” you mumble. Zach laughs. You try and fail not to fawn over his perfect smile.
“Did I faint in front of everybody?” he says, fixing his hair again.
“Not everybody,” you half-laugh. “But, seriously, everyone was really worried. We all care about you a lot.”
His heart warms. He may be in the hospital, but right now, he’s grateful for having people who care about him. It’s all he ever wanted.
“Thanks for coming with me,” Zach says softly. “And for staying.”
You nod. You were so worried that you told your dad you were going with the paramedics when they arrived, not even considering that you had work to do, that Zach was already taken care of.
“Of course,” you reply. “You said you don’t like being alone, remember? In that dream you had?”
Zach huffs a laugh and looks away, embarrassed as he thinks about that night in the elevator, but still appreciative.
“Did anyone call my brother?” he asks.
“I texted him that I’m with you at the hospital. He hasn’t replied yet.”
Zach nods and thanks you. He tries not to fixate on the fact that you have Rafe’s number. He looks at the clock hanging on the wall to see it’s late in the evening. He figures Rafe’s out with friends or with a girl, not paying attention to his phone.
He wishes he could just talk to him. With every second that passes, he worries more and more about Rafe’s reaction to him being here.
“I should’ve grabbed your phone from the locker room so you could talk to him directly,” you say regretfully. “But I told Chance to get your things for you after the game. Is there anyone else I should contact?”
Admittedly, you’re bracing yourself for him to mention the girl from the other night. Or any girl, really. But he only shakes his head no.
A nurse comes in to remind you that visiting hours are up soon. Zach sits up, visibly on edge, asking her when he can have visitors tomorrow. She tells him 9 a.m.
Knowing he won’t be able to see his brother in person tonight makes him anxious.
After the nurse leaves, Zach frantically asks if he can send a voice-note to Rafe on your phone. You open the conversation and hand your phone to Zach, noticing the nervous way he’s chewing on his lip.
“Hey,” he says into the speaker. “It’s nothing. I passed out from dehydration and I’m at Trinity and they’re keeping me overnight just to be sure I’m good, but the doctor’s not worried.”
His eyes flit to you and he swallows hard.
“This is nothing like the last time, okay? I know your mind’s gonna go there and this is not even close,” he continues. “You can come see me at nine tomorrow. And you better bring me food.”
Zach ends the recording, sends it, and gives you back your phone.
“Thanks,” he breathes. You nod, your eyebrows knitting in confusion and worry.
“Sure,” you say. “Is there anything I can do?”
Zach scratches the back of his neck.
“When he answers, please tell him that you saw for yourself that I’m okay,” he says. “He might be a little freaked out.”
You agree, not wanting to pry, and start to collect your things. There’s no television in the room and you feel bad that Zach’ll be left alone with nothing to entertain him. You want to help.
You tell him you’ll be right back, then rush downstairs at a vending machine you saw when you came in. After, you drop by the gift shop. It’s closed, the flowers and balloons locked up, but you’re still able to pick up a book sitting on a rack.
You leave behind more than enough cash for the book on the counter and go back to Zach’s room.
“Snacks,” you say breathlessly when you enter, dropping the bags of chips and candy and the paperback on the bed, “and a book. Hopefully, this’ll keep you entertained. And don’t tell my dad about the junk food. You know how he is about an athlete’s diet.”
Zach smiles at you, his eyes soft. With everything you’ve done tonight, you could simply be showing what a good friend you are, but what if you feel something for him, too?
The mention of his coach is reminder enough of why he doesn’t pursue this. It could get messy. But maybe he should be more like his brother. Taking risks. Allowing himself to do what he wants to do.
“I should go,” you sigh, looking at the clock. “Feel better, okay? We don’t stand a chance of winning without you.”
He laughs, his eyes lingering on you.
“Thanks,” Zach says. You turn to leave. He stops you with a gentle, “Hey.”
You stop, turning back to look at him. Zach takes you in, how good he feels when you’re around, how there’s still a little bit of worry written into your cute features.
He won’t tell you that he wants to you to be his girlfriend. Not like this, when he’s hooked up to monitors, stuck in a bed. He’ll do it when he’s out of here. He’ll do it when he can hold your face in his hands and tell you how much you mean to him.
“Seriously, thank you,” he tells you. “You’re amazing.” You smile at him again. If only he knew how much his words mean to you.
“You’re welcome,” you say.
You’re pacing through the parking lot when your phone buzzes. It’s Rafe calling you. You answer quickly. He says your name, his voice strained.
“I’m here. Is it too late to see him?”
“Yeah, visiting hours are over. I’m just leaving now,” you say, looking around the dark lot in case you can spot him. “But, honestly, he’s okay.”
“Does he…” Rafe pauses. “I think I see you.”
You approach each other under the starry sky, meeting by a line of parked cars.
His eyes are glossy. He’s been crying. No wonder Zach was so worried. He must have known the effect this would have on his brother. There’s more to this than you realize.
“Hi,” you say softly, ending the call. “It’s okay. He’s acting totally like himself.”
“He doesn’t have his phone?”
“No,” you say. “But I made sure someone’ll pick his stuff up for him.”
“What happened?”
“Before the game tonight, he was in the locker room and he looked really tired,” you explain. “He passed out, but he was already sitting and someone caught him, so he didn’t hit his head or anything. They have him on an IV and drinking lots of fluids.”
“Okay,” he mutters. “Fuck. I was at a bar and I wasn’t checking my phone… I got into a cab as fast as I could.”
“It’s okay,” you console him. “He’s good. He was more worried about you than himself.”
Rafe sighs, hands on his hips as he looks down and paces back and forth, hair hanging over his head. You can hear him panting.
“He was worried about me?”
“Yeah.”
“What’d he say?” Rafe asks the question the same tense way he did the night of the party. He’s so closed off, clearly upset at the thought of you knowing anything he doesn’t want you to know.
“I heard the voice-note he sent you,” you admit, “and he said you might be freaked out, but he didn’t tell me anything else. I didn’t ask. It’s not my business.”
Rafe chews on his lip the same nervous way Zach does. For once, you see a similarity between them.
His breathing gets even shallower. He rests his hands on the rear window of the van parked next to him. His body curls forward. His skin is flushed.
You step a little closer, searching his face in the light of the lamps lining the parking lot. He’s distraught.
“Rafe,” you say quietly.
His stare is on the ground, his chest heaving now. Something bad has been triggered in him.
“Hey,” you say.
“You can go home now,” he mutters breathlessly.
“I’m not leaving you like this,” you say. You take a risk, placing a hand on his back, feeling it rise and fall quickly.
“I think you’re having a panic attack,” you say evenly. “I get that this is scary, but I promise you, everything’s okay. Zach is okay.”
Rafe’s chest is tight. His veins are made of ice. He feels like punching something. He hates this familiar loss of control, this shock of the world crumbling around him with no warning.
Yet while he thought that he’d hate someone touching him like this, that he’d hate being so vulnerable, he actually feels a little better.
You continue to rub his back, sweetly and tenderly. The touches he shares with girls are never like this. They’re always superficial, fuelled by lust. But this feels like real, sincere care.
“You took a cab here?” you ask.
“Yeah,” he rasps.
“Did you talk to the driver?”
“What?”
“Did you?” you say. “What kind of car was it?”
It’s all in an effort to distract him, and while Rafe stammers his way through his answers about the driver and the car and the bar he was at, you notice his breathing start to even out.
Minutes later, his heart isn’t racing as fast. His chest isn’t as tight. He can think clearer.
He’s embarrassed, but relieved you were here to talk him down before he ran into the hospital and demanded to see his brother. He now realizes how bad that could’ve gone.
“I don’t…” he stammers. He doesn’t know how to say that this doesn’t happen all that often, that this is a piece of him he typically buries deep from everyone.
“What?”
“You probably think I’m crazy.” Saying the word out loud hurts more than he expected. It’s what he’s felt all his life, that something isn’t wired right in his brain.
“No. I get it,” you say. You shake your head. “I mean, I don’t know what happened, but… I’m guessing he was in the hospital for something before, right?”
Rafe meets your eyes, straightening.
“I get why you’re freaked out,” you say. “I would be, too. Memories can mess with us.”
The way you just calmed him down, the sympathy in your tone, the alcohol swimming in his system are what push him to actually be honest with someone for once in a long time.
“We almost lost him,” he admits. “A long time ago.”
Your face falls in sorrow, eyes searching his face. He looks down at the ground, too uncomfortable to meet your gaze again.
“I almost lost him,” Rafe mumbles, his voice thin. Because, really, he knows he would’ve felt the loss the hardest. His brother is the most important person in his life. Always has been.
And to lose him, someone so irreplaceable, someone he was with from the moment he was a living thing, would kill him. Zach’s right, even though he’s joking, that Rafe doesn’t tell him he loves him enough.
“I’m so sorry,” you say. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen,” Rafe says.
It was mere months after their mother abandoned them, saying she couldn’t stay with their father anymore, that she did everything she could do as a mom, that she was done.
It left a hole in Rafe that he feels every day. If Zach feels it, he does an incredible job hiding it.
He still doesn’t know what the final straw was. Why fourteen years of her sons’ lives was enough for her. How could a parent decide that they had enough of their kids forever?
She wasn’t the best mom, unpredictable and erratic, but he loved her. There had to be something wrong with her mind for her to act like that. To leave. Something that Rafe is sure skipped Zach and was passed on to him.
“That’s so young,” you say sadly.
“He was really sick for a while.” Rafe’s heart twists thinking about it.
How a freak case of pneumonia had Zach bedridden, his lungs fighting to keep breathing. How mad Rafe was at his brother, as if he did it on purpose. How sure he was that in some twisted way, his mother’s sudden abandonment triggered it.
He still regrets how he acted when Zach was discharged. He couldn’t talk to him for days. He was too angry for scaring him into thinking he was going to lose his best friend, his anchor.
“How long?” you ask.
“Weeks,” Rafe tells you. “And you know Zach. He kept telling everyone he was fine. Even as a kid, he didn’t want people to worry about him.”
“He is like that, isn’t he?” you say with a soft chuckle. Since you met Zach, you quickly learned he dismisses any notion of needing any sort of help. “But I promise, this isn’t one of those cases. I saw for myself. He’s good. I wouldn’t lie about that.”
Rafe nods quickly, finally looking at you.
“You’ll see him tomorrow,” you say with a small smile, sad but touched that he opened up to you like this. “Until then, just try to relax.”
Rafe loves the feeling of your hand on him. He can’t remember the last time he loved someone’s touch. If he ever even did.
He’s keeping his promise to Zach. He won’t hook up with you. Because he wants more than that. He wants to know you and for you to know him. He wants you to stay the night, every night. He wants you to be his.
And he needs to be sure you don’t feel anything for his brother.
“Are you and him…” He swallows hard. “Is there anything there?”
Your forehead crinkles in confusion. Zach had told you that his brother was his best friend. You’re sure he would’ve told him if he felt something for you.
If he has to ask, Zach must not talk about you much at all. You’re nothing but a friend to him. Although you do have feelings for him, you were right to be apprehensive from the start. He doesn’t like you like that.
“No,” you finally say.
Rafe nods. At least there’s no unrequited feelings on either side. He must have been reading into things, imagining you looking at his brother a certain way.
“You wanna grab some food?” Rafe asks impulsively.
You agree. Right now, there’s nothing else you’d rather do.
Rafe’s been on a handful of dates before, but sitting across from you at a quiet late-night diner, sobering up, getting to know you more and more makes him feel like he’s living in a dream.
He’s never felt this way about a girl before. Scared in a good way. Slowly, he opens up little by little, peeling back layers of the wall he’s been hiding behind for years.
He shares what happened with his mom. How Zach was the strong one, while Rafe acted out and made his life hell. You take in every word, seeing just how much guilt and shame and pain he carries around.
You open up, too, sharing things you don’t tell many people. He’s a good listener, and the eyes you thought didn’t have much hope behind them at first aren’t cold at all by the end of the night.
It’s one in the morning when you part ways. Rafe shares a cab with you, making sure you get dropped off first, watching you step through the front door.
Everything in him wants to invite you to his place, but things are going to be different with you. He won’t rush into numbing himself with sex like he always does, because he refuses to be numb or absent or checked out with you in any way.
────୨ৎ────
“What kind of grown man forgets to drink water?”
Zach looks up from his orange juice to see Rafe walking into his hospital room.
He chuckles, asking Rafe not to give him shit for this because you already did. The mention of your name makes Rafe’s heart feel lighter in this tense moment.
Because of how good it felt to be so open with you last night, expressing just how important Zach is to him, remembering everything they’d gone through together, Rafe doesn’t shy away from leaning over to hug his brother, who stiffens in his bed.
“Uh, good morning to you, too?” Zach laughs. “Is this a hug? What the hell? Who are you?”
“I love you, too,” Rafe mumbles, pulling back and holding up a paper bag of breakfast for him. “And I got you your food, princess.”
“You try eating hospital food,” Zach replies, taking the bag, feeling ravenous.
Rafe settles on the chair, remembering his brother at fourteen, picking apart at the food they served him with a look of disgust, yet telling the nurses ‘it’s good, thank you’ when they asked if he was enjoying his meal.
Rafe urged his dad to bring his brother home-cooked food almost every day of his hospital stay. It was one of the little ways he showed up for Zach, taking care of him instead of the other way around for once.
“What’d the doctor say?” Rafe asks. “Do you feel better?”
“She hasn’t come to see me yet, but I feel totally fine.” Zach digs into his breakfast. “How are you?”
Rafe looks down at his lap, sighing before he speaks.
“I freaked out,” Rafe admits. Zach stills. “She told me you said I would and you were right. But, man… she knew exactly what to do.”
“It happened when you were with her?” Zach knows what Rafe’s breakdowns look like. He has full-blown panic attacks. He’s nearly inconsolable. He wonders how jarring that must have been for you.
“Out in the parking lot,” he says. “It was just too much. All that shit came rushing back.”
Rafe shrugs, defeated. Sometimes, he’s able to give into the fact that he can do nothing but surrender to the chaos in his mind. He felt safe doing it in front of you last night. He felt safe every second he was with you.
“Are you okay now?” Zach asks. He notices the hint of a smile in Rafe’s face. A brightness he hasn’t seen in him in a long time.
“Yeah,” Rafe says. “I gotta ask you something, though.”
“What?”
“Does ‘off limits’ mean I can’t date her?”
“Date her?” Zach repeats, in disbelief. “You want to date her? Like, commit to her? You don’t commit to anyone.”
Rafe breathes a chuckle, pursing his lips.
“Well, now, I want to.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
Rafe looks like he got rid of a ten-ton weight that was sitting on his shoulders. He’s relaxed. He’s content. Zach can’t remember the last time he saw him like this.
Zach became hyperaware of other people’s emotions at a young age. When their parents would argue, he saw what it did to Rafe, who would shut down and lash out. Zach would distract his brother in every way he could.
Then their mom left and it became ten times harder to keep Rafe steady. But Zach did it and he never stopped trying. Because helping others, putting their feelings first, really does make Zach happy.
But right now, he feels really far from happy.
He looks down at his food. He had it all planned out. He’d get in his best clothes, find a nice place to take you, give you a whole speech about how he hasn’t stopped thinking about you for days and how happy you make him and how happy he could make you.
“She feels the same way? Did something happen between you?” Zach asks. His chest is a hole. A pit.
“Nothing happened,” Rafe says, scratching the back of his neck.
It was nearly impossible for Rafe not to give into the impulse to hold your hand in the booth you sat at together last night and tell you how pretty you are and how much fun he has with you.
But he really does want to be a better person. He wants to think before he acts. And that means checking in with Zach that he’s okay with this, considering how tense he is about Rafe getting involved with his friends.
“But I think she might like me, too,” Rafe says. “And I made sure she’s not into you. I guess I was just reading into stuff before.”
That’s the moment Zach’s heart breaks. He licks his lips, his stare low. So, you would’ve just rejected him.
“You really like her?” he asks after a moment.
“Yeah,” Rafe says.
“Why?”
“Don’t make me be corny,” he groans.
Zach’s head is pounding. He wants to be mad at Rafe. But he had so many opportunities to tell him that he likes you, and he was too chicken to admit it. And now, his brother is falling for you. And he looks so happy doing it.
“You’re gonna have to be corny,” Zach says. “I need to be sure you’re not just messing around.”
Rafe sighs. It’s always Zach doing this, gushing over a girl, freaking out over if she hasn’t texted him back, getting all nervous before a date. Rafe used to tease him about it. He gets it now, though.
“You suck,” Rafe scoffs, tensing up. It’s hard for him to talk like this, but he forces the words out. “I don’t know. I like who I am when I’m around her. And it’s… when she’s in the room, everything’s better, you know?”
“Yeah,” Zach says. He knows. He feels the exact same way.
“Is that corny enough for you?” Rafe says with a scoff. “Are you cool with this or no?”
Zach chews his food slowly only to buy time before he has to speak again. He’s trying to act unbothered and it’s working, considering how in the clouds Rafe seems.
He has no idea that Zach is falling for you. Because he’s too busy doing it, too.
He meets his brother’s eyes. He takes a deep breath. And, because Rafe’s happiness has always been more important to him than his own, he gives him his blessing.
“Go for it,” Zach says. “And don’t hurt her.”
He’s never felt so bitter. He hates that he hopes you’ll have a change of heart. He hates that he feels like he’d treat you better. He hates all of this. But he stays silent.
────୨ৎ────
You’re having a late breakfast when Zach replies to your text asking to keep you updated.
Doctor cleared me. I’m home and I got my stuff from Chance. Thanks for everything.
His message is cold compared to how he usually texts. But maybe he’s just tired from the hospital stay.
You gaze out your window, thinking about everything that happened last night. Rafe isn’t as different from Zach as you first thought. Behind his hard exterior, he’s sensitive and gentle and so badly wants to be loved.
He confessed to feeling like something was missing in him since he can remember. The look in his eyes when you told him that to you, he seems perfectly whole, is one you won’t forget.
Being with him for hours was a wonderful haze. You didn’t want to part. He made you feel heard. It’s a joy that you’ve been lacking for a long time.
Minutes later, Rafe texts you asking if he can take you out to dinner tonight. You smile at your screen. You love how you don’t have to wonder about if he wants you.
The restaurant he drives you to is lavish and elegant. Rafe is unbelievably handsome across the table over the candlelight, his dark button-up making his eyes look all the more blue. Your stomach is full of butterflies, yet a sense of calm fills you when you’re with him.
You pick up where you left off, conversation flowing without any effort. He looks at you like you put the stars in the sky. You’re sure you look at him the same way.
When Rafe pulls the car up to your place, in an effort to keep you from leaving right away, he presses his palm against the back of your hand.
“Did you have a good time?” he asks, tone low, adorably nervous.
“Of course. Did you?”
Rafe chuckles at the question. Good doesn’t begin to cover it.
“You’re…” he begins.
“I’m what?” you laugh.
He squeezes your hand gently, turning it so he can lace his fingers with yours. The contact is warm, his ring hard but smooth against your skin. Your heart pounds in your ears as he stares at you.
“Beautiful,” he says. “In every way.”
His tone is sincere and firm. He says it like it’s a fact.
“And I want to keep doing this,” he says. “Seeing you. If you want to keep seeing me, too.”
“I do,” you say. When he leans forward, his kiss is soft but hungry, making your mind spin.
Zach fakes a headache when Rafe gets home. All he needs to hear is that the date went well. He doesn’t want the details.
────୨ৎ────
You’re wrapped in Rafe’s arms, your back flush against his chest, as music and chatter float through the air around you.
You’re settled on his couch, talking with your friends as the party rages. Rafe’s still getting used to what it means to be a boyfriend, tense and quiet around your friends, but he’d get used to anything if it meant making you happy.
You’ve only been dating a few weeks, but he’s sure if this isn’t love, he’s damn close to it. Aside from his brother, you’re his best friend.
You smile when you feel Rafe’s lips press against the side of your neck. He’s ridiculously affectionate, touching you whenever he can, spoiling you, whispering sweet things to you all the time. He’s completely unguarded.
Zach’s in the kitchen, as far away from you as he physically can be. After the hospital, he hasn’t been himself at all. You can tell he’s trying to be, though, forcing smiles around you.
It makes no sense. He called you amazing that night. But, then, he pulled away. It’s like he’s mad at you for dating his brother, but he refuses to admit it.
You’ve asked him multiple times if things are good between you. He reassured you over and over that they are.
Maybe someone else would believe him, but after you pined for him for so long, you can read when he’s trying to hide that he’s upset. At parties, at casual get-togethers, even at work when you’re making content for the team, he’s absent-minded and disinterested.
And whatever’s wrong, he prefers to hold inside.
Nonetheless, while your feelings for Zach have faded, you genuinely hope he’s happy and that you can be friends with him again one day.
The next morning, you wake up in Rafe’s bed. His arm is around your waist, his breath warm against your back. He’s still snoozing when you slip out of bed to get water.
Zach’s sitting at the kitchen island, staring down at his coffee. It’s almost funny how just over three months ago, you were here for the first time, yearning for Zach to give you a hint that he liked you. Now, you’re falling for Rafe.
“Morning,” you say kindly.
Zach looks up from his coffee. His smile doesn’t meet his eyes.
“Hey.”
You open the fridge, the awful feeling he’s been giving you lately sitting heavy on your heart. He makes you feel unwelcome, which is something you never expected from him.
“Just getting some water,” you say, searching through the shelves. “He’s definitely gonna wake up with a headache.”
Zach tenses. You’re doing for Rafe what he daydreamed you doing for him. Sharing a bed with him, nursing his hangover, touching him and smiling at him and giving him what Zach would die for.
You look so pretty in the morning, your bedhead adorable, your pajamas complimenting your figure. Why won’t his heart just catch up with his mind? He keeps telling himself to get over you.
He notices that you have Rafe’s ring on your finger. He used to imagine you wearing his things. He’d love to see you in his team hoodie. But he never will.
In another world, you’re in this kitchen as his girlfriend, talking about last night’s party, sharing kisses and laughs. But not in this world.
“I never asked you,” you say, your back to him, “how was that book I got you?”
You hope it serves as a reminder for how much you did for him and how much you care about him. It hurts, the way he’s been keeping you at a distance.
Late at night, as your mind drifts away from you when you try to fall asleep, you’ve considered the possibility of Zach being upset because he’s jealous of Rafe and wants to be with you.
But Rafe told you he checked with Zach to make sure your relationship was okay with him and he even said he didn’t feel anything for you. Maybe Zach thinks you’re not good enough for his brother and he’s too nice to actually say it out loud.
“Good,” Zach says.
You grab two water bottles and close the fridge door. One word is all he’s willing to say to you.
You can’t do it again. You can’t ask him for the hundredth time if you did something wrong, just for him to say you didn’t and he’s sorry that he made you feel like you did.
You leave him alone in the kitchen, padding up the stairs. Zach looks down at his coffee again. His eyes are starting to burn with tears.
He wants to remind his brother that they agreed they wouldn’t let people overstay. And you being here for even one night feels like overstaying. He can’t have you and every time he’s reminded of that, it hurts.
He can’t stop thinking about that night in the elevator and wishing that instead of drunkenly rambling about his brother, he rambled about his feelings for you. At least then, everything would have been out in the open long before you really got to know Rafe.
The girl he met through the video messaged him last night, asking if he was up to hang out again. She’s cute and nice. But she’s not you. And it’d be wrong to pursue someone just to numb the pain of not having you.
That’s all he wants. You. And because he was such a coward, he’ll never have you. Maybe at some point, he had a chance. Maybe you would have grown feelings for him if he was honest with you.
But you seem happy. So does Rafe, who actually wants hold you and kiss you in public. He was never like that with any other girl.
Zach realizes that while he was always so sure he coped with everything that life hurled at them better than Rafe, he wasn’t paying attention to how destructive he is to himself. His martyrdom was never a virtue.
He’s too late. He self-sabotaged. He has nobody to blame for his aching loneliness but himself. That’s the most heartbreaking part of this whole thing.
Rafe’s hair is tousled, his smile lazy when you come back to bed.
“Thought you left me,” he murmurs tiredly into your hair, pulling you tight against his warm body. You smile, your cheek pressed against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.
Rafe’s sure you can feel his pulse on your cheek. He feels like you own every beat of his heart.
“I wouldn’t leave you,” you tell him.
The tension from what happened downstairs leaves your system. You swallow down the tears that threatened to fall when you left the kitchen.
You plant a kiss on Rafe’s chest. You know where you’re wanted. And you’re happiest staying there.
(the end)
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#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#zach maclaren and you#zach maclaren and reader#zach maclaren and y/n#zach maclaren x y/n#zach maclaren x you#zach maclaren x reader
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heyy loveee !!
I don’t know if this is super weird, but yk what a hurricane shot is ? I was thinking maybe bartender!ellie giving a hurricane shot to reader. (and smut in bar bathroom maybe ??) hmm idk, js an idea!
What Can I Get For You, Cutie? (Ellie Williams x Reader) (Smut)
⚠️Warning!⚠️: This story contains smut, slapping and consumption of alcohol
Words: 3501
It was all your friends idea. You didn’t even know what it was. But based on their unstoppable giggles you should have known. You made your way through the packed club, being waaay closer to people than you wanted to, before finally making it to the bar. You let out a sigh as you placed your hands on the countertop, as if to compose yourself. Despite the few shots you’ve taken before this the nerves still crept up on you. You eyed the girl you’ve been gushing over the whole night as she prepared a drink for a girl who barely looks old enough to get in. You found it odd and you couldn’t help but wonder if she got in thanks to a successful fake ID. But you soon shook the thought out of your head. Who are you to wonder about that? Are you the police? Your eyes went back to the bartender who worked her skilled hands behind the desk. Grabbing different utensils before neatly putting them back in place. Despite the busy and noisy environment she kept her focus, zeroing in on the cocktail glass in front of her. She’s experienced. You stretched over the countertop a little more, just so you could see her slender fingers grasping the tequila bottl-
“Hey, (y/n)!” was announced loudly behind you before a hand was placed on your shoulder. You jumped at the unexpected touch, but relaxed when you turned around to see Bailey, one of the people who forced you out tonight. Also, your best friend since middle school. It’s one of those friendships that would have never happened if you hadn’t met each other when you were 9. Growing up you kinda chose different paths in life, and if it wasn’t for you magically choosing the same collage you’re pretty sure you’d never see her again.
“Hey!” Bailey yelled, getting the gorgeous girl behind the bar’s attention. Her pretty emerald eyes made eye contact with your friend, almost making you jealous cause you wish you would have the pleasure of looking into them. “She wants to order once you’re done!” she said while pointing at you, giving away one of her charming smirks. You quickly got pulled out of your trance and widened your eyes in terror. “Nonononono!” you felt the embarrassment creeping up on you as you tried to waft away her hand. Somehow the thought of the pretty girl not knowing you'd ever existed seemed more pleasing than having your friend get her attention as if you're a kid who can´t make an order for themselves.
But the bartender looked you over before giving you a little smirk followed by a nod to assure she heard Bailey’s statement. You hid your face in your hands as you slowly hunched over the bar desk that smelled of spilled alcohol. You're pretty sure you're hair soaked up a worthy of $90 of drinks, but you couldn´t care less. The embarrassment of looking at the perfect girl after this interaction was way more horrible. Bailey just chuckled at your act. She knew you hated stuff like this, but she’s pretty sure you’ll thank her after. “Good luck, (y/n)” she whispered in your ear before giving you a friendly back dunk, harder than usual. “Ow!” you threw out as you looked back at her making her way to the rest of the group again.
“What can I get for you, cutie?” you turned around to be met with one of the pretties smiles you've ever seen. Even thought it´s used to drain your bank account you can´t help but feel a little giggly inside. She placed her hands on the worktop in front of her as she leaned in, waiting for your order. All while wearing that smirk that´d make you throw your credit card at her. You lost the ability to think for a second. If anyone asked for your name you're not sure you´d be able to give it. She´s even more gorgeous up close. Freckles decorated her face and the glimes of the décolletage behind the button up shirt. You sure got a thing for freckles, but the girls you've hooked up with before couldn´t even compare. Seeing all the things you couldn´t from the distance before would keep you busy for days. Being able to point out all the things that made her unique while combing your fingers through her shoulder-length, auburn hair would be the dream. She even got a cut in her eyebrow! Like the one every lesbian guide tells you to get. Except this one looks like a real scar, which makes it 10x hotter. You're willing to risk it all for a girl you don´t even know the name of.
“Hi” you nervously laughed, “I, uhm….I would like a….”. Ellie found you absolutely adorable as you stumbled over your words, while you wanted to bash your head open on the fucking desk in front of you! She made sure to keep a soft expression while patiently waiting for you to get your order out. She’s no new to nervous costumers, though she more often come across more cuddly people who has a hard time standing up by themselves. Patience is key when you have a costumer who’s having a hard time getting their words out. Little does she know her face is the exact reason you're stubbling over your words like a fucking moron. “…..a hurricane shot, please”.
Considering Ellie's been kinda wishing you’d come over and make an order all night she almost thought her mind was playing a trick on her. She payed attention to you pretty early. Whenever the bar was rather slow she’d steal a few glances at you. Searching the room for your cute face. Usually everyone in this type of surrounding looks kinda the same, but something about your body language caught Ellie's attention. She could bet money you're not the one who came up with the idea to come here. Your uncomfortable and displeased manner sure made Ellie crack a smile. You seemed so out of place and somehow that amused her. Despite not thinking you'd stay more than 30 minutes she still hoped you'd made an order. Just so she could get the chance to interact with you. So hearing you order that made her think you could read her mind. But you looked innocent enough to not mean it in that way.
Guys would usually order a hurricane shot when they thought the bartender was super hot. Probably a weird degrading kink or something. You had made it very clear you found the bartender really attractive from the second you laid your eyes on her. And your friends insisted on you taking the next order, specifically asking for said shot. You had never heard of it before, but you’re open to try anything. Ellie´s questionable expression made you think she hadn´t heard you over the blasting music. But before you could repeat your last sentence, an octave higher this time, she asked with a chuckle “Are you sure?"
You nodded, though your mind was hesitant. What the fuck could this be if even the bartender seems hesitant? A mixture of all their strongest liquor? Ellie lets out another chuckle as she shakes her head in disbelief, mumbling "As you wish". She placed a shot glass in front of you on the desk, effortlessly grabbing the vodka bottle to fill it up. Once she´s done she turns around to grab a water glass and fill it up from the tap. Your eyebrow frowned, but you assume you have to trust the progress. But the wrinkles remained when she placed the untouched glass of water beside the shot. "There you go!" Ellie announced, sliding the two glasses closer to you. The gears in your head were working hard. Is this it? A vodka shot and a useless glass of water? Or is this some type of inside joke? What am I suppose to do first? Drink the shot or the water? Or is it one of those submarine ones where you’re supposed to drop the shot into the glass? Then what’s the point of the shot?
You reached over and grabbed the small glass with the strong liquor. As you did you notice Ellie making her way around the bar, on her way to....you. You widened your eyes and quickly looked down at your lap. You could feel her presence beside you, but you didn’t dare look her way. Thought you did pay attention to the black, beat up converse right beside your barstool. An awkward silence took over. Despite the loud music you could hear the cartoon crickets. Ellie waited another few seconds before breaking the silence “Sooo…are you gonna do it?”. “Ehm….I-I actually don’t-.....I don´t know what to do“ you finished with an awkward laugh. Why did you even get an order you knew nothing about? This is the last time you'll agree on something Bailey says.
Ellie was a little surprised by your statement, but it reassured her prediction you hadn’t come up with the order yourself. Someone told you to. A quick glance over her shoulder left no questions about it. Your friend group could barely contain their laughter as they watched the interaction between you two. Ellie shifted her attention back on you again. Your unsure eyes eyeing your recent order made you look so lost, so….innocent.
“Ellie!” both of you shot your head in the direction of the girl’s voice. “Hurry up! You need to come back and take up more orders” her stressed out coworker complained. Ellie? So that’s her name. “Yeah, yeah, I’m on it” she replied with a not so joyful tone, but it quickly switch when she turned back to you. "Do you, uhm......do you want me to tell you what it is?" Ellie could feel her usual confidence slowly wash off. Something about you didn´t just make her feel hot. It made her feel...nervous. She felt too much sympathy for you to just slap you across the face without warning. Every muscle in her body screamed at her to not do it! To just give you the shot as it is and claim you've got a hurricane shot. But considering your friends close eye on you she didn’t want to be called in by her boss and be yelled at for not doing a correct order. She’s here to do her job, take up orders and make sure the costumers are satisfied.
“Ellie! Just do it!” the other bartender once again interrupted, stressing Ellie even more. She let out a sign before handing you the shot glass, guiding you to take it. You do as informed, a little shocked at the touch of her skin on yours. It took everything in you not to make a face when the strong liquor hits your tastebuds, but you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself in front of Ellie. Not more than you already have.
Ellie hesitantly grabbed the glass of water on the counter, shaking more than she should. She gave you a quick glance before throwing it your way. The cold water hits you right in the face, ruining any chances of your makeup still looking good considering the sweaty bar atmosphere. The couple sitting behind you turned around after feeling some of the droplets hitting them too. You let out a surprised gasp, louder than it would have been if you could have controlled it. But you didn’t have much time to think before you felt a sudden sting on your left cheek. Despite Ellie holding back as her hand meets your rosy face it still was a proper slap. And the water didn’t make it any better, just adding onto the burning feeling.
Oddly enough it felt like the whole bar had stopped at the sound of the smack. Of course that wasn’t the case, the music was still loud enough to be heard 6 blocks away. But you’re sure a few people turned their heads to look. You on the other hand were in complete shock. Your jaw was hanging low, eyes looking like they might fall out any second. And Ellie’s face was no different, though she tried to keep it professional. You were both completely frozen. You raised your hand and softly graced your abused cheek. The sting made you flinch a little, and you’re sure Ellie saw it cause her eyes switched from shock to utter pity. But before she was able to reach out and help you whip away the mascara that’s currently making streaks down your cheeks the same girl who’s been stressing her grabbed her by the arm and janked her back behind the bar. Thought Ellie’s eyes never let you. Baliey came running down with one of the other girls to help you down from the barstool. Ellie couldn’t hear what she told you, but based on her expression she seems thrilled, in comparison to you. A lump in her stomach started to form and a huge wave of guilt hit her like a wave. But she’s quickly forced back into the stressful tempo of being a bartender.
The leather seat felt nice as Bailey crashed you down beside her on her previous spot. Another one of the girls, Nathalie, come running with a bundle of paper towels. Bailey grabbed them one by one as she tried to dry you up without having too much of your makeup coming off with it. While the third girl, Lindsay, tried to dry up the remains of the water from your hair and clothes. “So……” Bailey began “Did you like it?”. You gave her a death stare that was enough to draw out an amused laugh from her. But matter of fact the wet stain in your underwear has been bothering you ever since Ellie’s hand left your cheek. But you couldn’t let Bailey know that. “Next time, don’t bring me into one of your weird kinks” you playfully said while rolling your eyes. Lindsay chuckled while throwing another crunched up paper towel in the near by trash can. Bailey smirked “But you thought she was hot, right?”. You nodded your head, looking up as she tried to correct the smudge eyeshadow on your lower lash line.
When the girls was done helping you to look as representable as possible with the circumstances everyone went back to their previous conversation. Almost like they completely forgot about the event that had just taken place. But you sure didn´t. How could you? The hottest girl you've ever seen had just slapped you across your face. You´d never tried anything like this before, but if Ellie were the one doing it you'd gladly take another round.
You made sure to sneak a few glances at the bar, not long enough to catch any of your friends attention. You could see Ellie effortlessly move around behind the desk, looking like she was built for the job. Her coworker whispered something in her ear that made her burst out in laughter. Oh my god, she’s perfect. As she continued to put the clean drink glasses in the rack her eyes locked with...you. You quickly turned your head towards your friend group, pretending as if you´d been apart of their conversation the whole time. Ellie chuckled for herself at your cute act. She couldn´t believe you still had problem looking her in the eyes after your latest exchange. The guilt was still there, though it looks like you’d repaired pretty well. She turned around to grab another batch of the glasses from the dishwasher that Sophie, her coworker for the night, had brought over to her. But when she spun around she´s met with a familiar pair of eyes that had issues looking into hers.
You nervously played with your fingers under the desk as you tired to not embarrass yourself any further. "I, um.....can I have another one?" you asked with a hesitation. Ellie smirked "Another what?". She was 99% sure she knew what you referred to, but she wanted you to say it. You took a deep breath, pushing away any nagging thoughts "A hurricane shot. Can I get another hurricane shot?". She could see her imprint starting to form on your chubby cheek. Ellie gave you another smirk before saying "How about you save your money and hold on for second?". You gave her a confused look but mumbled a "Okay". She nodded as if to reassure herself, "Good! I'll be right back!". You observed as Ellie mumbled something to Sophie before making her way to the back. Still confused you tried to build an idea of what she was up to.
After a few minutes a pair of hands grabbed onto your shoulders, making you jump. You thought it was either Bailey who had spotted you and now knew you had lied about going to the bathroom, or a creep who tried to make a move on you. But neither of them were right, cause the face that met you when you turned around belong to the bartender who´s got you wrapped around her finger. "Hi" she said while giving you another one of her charming smiles. God, just take my card and clear it already! "Hey" you answered with a nervous giggle. She didn´t waste another second before grabbing your wrist and drag you past the dance floor. She tried to avoid mixing DNA with the dedicated dancers that filled the floor.
You looked down at her hand firmly holding onto your wrist and saw a tattoo wrapped around her forearm that you somehow hadn´t noticed before. “Wait, where are we going?” you confusedly asked while trying to keep up with her footsteps. She glanced back at you before answering “You wanted to get slapped again, right? Or did you like the taste of the vodka shot so much you had to get another one?”. You made a face at the memory of the aftertaste that Ellie was able to see before turning her attention forward again. "No, you're right" you admitted while feeling your cheeks starting to heat up. “Right. So I’m just doing my job” she shrugged. Your heart skipped a beat at the realization. "Wait, wait, wait. I-I don´t even know your name". Lie. You sucked up that information the second her coworker said it the first time. But you didn't want to admit you'd payed such close attention to it. "Ellie” she said nonchalantly “My name is Ellie”. “Well, nice to meet you, Ellie. My name is-“ “(y/n). I know” Ellie interrupt. You were confused “Your friend said it pretty loud. I’m not sure anyone in this club missed it”. You laughed, she’s pretty funny too.
As the toilets came in view you could feel your nerves starting to freak out. Ellie opened the door to one of the unoccupied toilets while gesturing with her hand for you to go in “Ladies first”. You made your way into the cramped up booth, but before you got the chance to open your mouth Ellie spun you around and crashed her lips on yours. She quickly pulled away and a deep shade took over her face "I´m sorry, I´ve been wanting to do that all night, but maybe you-" you put your lips on hers to make her shut up. You found it rather amusing how you were the one stumbling over your words, but now she's the one being nervous. "I´ve wanted this too, Ellie. I´ve been eyeing you this whole night" you reasured her. "Yeah, I´ve noticed that" she added with a cocky smirk as her hand slide up your skirt.
You playfully hit her on the shoulder "I´m not the one slapping people in the face!". "You were the one ordering it!" Ellie quickly defended herself. "Yeah, yeah" you mumbled "Now come over here. I wanna see what those talented fingers can do". “Yeah? Oh, I’ll show you just how talented they are” she added while sliding her hand underneath your underwear. A cocky smile took over her face when her fingers met your mess “You really like being slapped, huh?”. You rolled your eyes and hit her on the shoulder again. She didn’t waist any more time before slowly sliding in her middle finger in your wet hole. You let out a satisfied moan, not believing this is actually happening. Ellie pays close attention to your blissful face as she moves her finger in a steady pace. “One more. Please, one more”, she quickly lined up another one of her fingers to your entrance before pushing it in. The stretch was everything you looked for, so when Ellie’s knuckles meet your wet folds your eyes uncontrollably rolled to the back of your head.
You took a steady grip on the color of her white shirt as she continued to slide her slender fingers into you. “Fuck, Ellie!” You moaned, letting your head hit the graffiti covers wall. Your jaw was slack as all sorts of sounds left your mouth for anyone in the bathroom to hear. And that’s when it happened. A slap to your left cheek made your eyes shot right open to land on Ellie’s concentrated face. The same hand then grabbed a hold on your face as she force you closer to hers. “Who knew you were such a slut, huh? Getting this needy from a hurricane shot” she mumbled close to your face. You let out a whine before desperately grabbing onto her outwashed, black jeans. But her hand leaves your face to stop you from pulling down her zipper. “I don’t have much time, pretty. I need to get back out there. So let’s focus on you. I know you’ve been uncomfortable for long enough with such a mess in your panties”.
#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader smut#ellie williams tlou#ellie the last of us#the last of us#tlou ellie#tlou#the last of us part two
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this has been on my mind for a while, how would König react to a reader who was around when he was being bullied, not one of the bullies since I doubt he would forgive that even tho the sex would be nasty but like a girl who was on the side lines doing nothing and just hanging out with the bullies coming to him apologetically and wanting to make amends??
Oh what a delicious idea!
I meant to answer this with a quick reply but alas 🙄 this turned into a short drabble almost
She wasn’t one of the bullies, which means she’s not someone who König would want to actively terminate (I hc him in some of my darker fics as someone who may or may not have killed his childhood bullies... and/or his father, which means König can’t go back to Austria bc MEMORIES and also bc he has like a raging criminal record there). But she’s an onlooker, practically an enabler, and used to hang out with his bullies, oh dear. König wouldn’t be all too welcoming with her.
Chances are she was someone who König crushed on during school. Unattainable, he daydreamed about having her as his first girlfriend, but naturally that never happened... Now he’s suspicious to the point of being a little paranoid: he built a tough shell because of his past, so doe eyes and apologies won’t get you very far, even if König is intrigued. To be honest, his interest is piqued, but he won't let you see that in a million years.
Perhaps you reach out after a class meeting, some get together he never attended. You always wondered what happened to the cute, awkward nerd who sat behind you in class, the clumsy boy who talked of Rome, chivalry and knights while other boys wanted to be F1 drivers... Maybe you fantasized about asking him to help you with your history or math test, maybe you even blew him a kiss one time on dare to see if he'd walk straight into a wall (he did).
Maybe you dolled yourself up, just for him, excited to see König after over 10 years. To see if the awkward boy would still blush, to see what kind of man he has become... Chirp your regrets after a few blunts and some booze and see if he still fancied you.
But König never came. And of course he didn’t, that’s hardly a surprise. The regret within you builds until you bite the bullet and send a message to his old number, and after a few months, a reply finally arrives, but it’s not the most genial one.
König wants to meet you though… And the man, the thing he has become, makes it clear that he's not the shy awkward boy anymore.
You spend the whole evening trying to get over the sheer size of him, the lack of shaking hands, the distant cold stare with which he looks down at you. The fact that he works as a mercenary, that the boy who never hit anyone now kills people for money... The fact that he looks like someone who could wipe the floor with the young men you used to think were kinda cool.
König, however, is trying to decide what you want from him. Do you still think he’s a loser who never hit back because he wanted to be the better person? Do you think he’s a good for nothing man, even now, upon seeing that he finally succumbed to his hate?
Why do you even want to apologize after all these years?
Do you want an official pardon so that you can sleep your nights better? Or do you want to gawk at him because he chose to skip that stupid get together, perhaps gossip about him to the others and see if you could still find something to laugh at?
He’s the perfect gentleman during your “date”, offers to pay for the food and wishes you all the best. You can see the hurt in his eyes, of course – he wants to make you feel even worse about yourself by being such a good joe, so you break before him when he tries to leave, apologizing again, even crying in front of him.
“I just wanted to know if you’re happy,” you say. “I just hope that everything’s alright now…”
You lay your whole heart out in front of this man, but he's not the boy you used to know, not anymore.
He doesn’t tell you that he’s not happy; he never was. Neither does he heed the wishes of his darker self, wanting to tell you that he’d be happy for a while if you blew him in the restroom. He’s fucking better than that.
“We were just kids,” he says instead.
And that’s it: that’s the apology. But you can’t let him go, and neither can he, not when you humbly decided to come and rip all his wounds open.
Cue to a few months from the first date, you’re neck deep in love with him while König tells himself he’s only having fun. You could say he’s using you for sex; yes, he’s just dating this chick from high school... You’re just someone he comes to fuck and cuddle during leaves. It's nothing serious, no. He can do without serious for a while.
And he’s not going to fall for your charms, no matter how sweet, authentic and loving you are... You make yourself so fucking easy to love, but he's not going to fall for that. Any other woman he'd worship, but not you.
Not you.
Not you…
#könig angst#könig x reader#könig x you#sorry not even remotely sorry#lol the sex would still be nasty........#my god this might just bring out the worst in him
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For the Danyal Al Ghul AU: How would Danyal react to other canon events like when Sam wishes she never met Danny, Tucker wishes for powers, the christmas episode, or other DP canon events?
(Also, I assume Danyal's cover is blown by the reality Gaunlet event.)
Ohooho I love this question. So im only gonna respond to the episodes you mentioned, since it's been a while since i actually watched the show and I don't remember all the episodes. And also since I don't remember them fully, I'm gonna get details wrong. I am fine with that, it still gets the gist down lol. I've got the tvtropes recap page pulled up, so i'll be using that to try and hit the major points it mentions.
So, Memory Blank! Man I've thought about that one, and its the one I'm frankly most excited to answer because it gets to show just how much of a positive impact being friends with Sam and Tucker had on Danyal. So where to start? Their fight goes differently than in canon, but I'm going to start from after Sam makes her wish.
Firstly; she and Tucker are friends, but the two of them are not friends with Danny. He's on his own. In this au, the three of them became friends when they were 11 and Danny's been in Amity Park for about a year.
They met in the beginning with Sam trying to befriend him at first because she realized that they shared similar ideals on environmentalism, but he rebuffed her pretty harshly due to a combination of grief over leaving his home, trying to process the fact that he can never return and will never see his brother again or meet his father, and just plain League arrogance lmao. He really hated being in Amity Park just in general because it wasn't his home and it was the city too.
So he was really rather unapproachable in the beginning. People kept a pretty wide berth of him due to Fenton association and his own vibes.
But Danny's still a kid, and they want socialization with their peers. At 11 he didn't have any friends, and was frankly quite lonely. He decided to approach Sam and Tucker after deeming them "acceptable allies", although Sam wasn't really interested at first up until he did the equivalent of apologizing. Tucker warmed up first afterwards, but Sam really wasn't too far behind.
So thats how they became friends, post-wish though? Lets say that Sam didn't accept the apology and rebuffed Danny, and kinda intimidated Tucker into doing the thing. Danyal closed down, backed off, and then never approached them again because he decided right then and there he wasn't going to chase it. Wasn't worth his effort or time.
Then he just. never approached another person after that because he didn't want to get rebuffed again (he wouldn't admit that it hurt a bit), and he could already tell his efforts wouldn't work. He turned his attention to other stuff. In this timeline it wasn't too difficult to find him at events dedicated to combatting climate change, deforestation, light pollution, animal cruelty, etc. the LOA is an environmentalist group, after all. They just also happen to be eco-fascist assassins-for-hire.
In summary, Sam and Tucker helped Danyal realize the flaws in some of the League's beliefs (the fascism) to the point where he could deconstruct it on his own. Being friends with them made him realize that, frankly, genocide was not the answer to environmental equilibrium, and that the people outside of the League had lives worth living. They also helped quell his arrogance, and just in general influenced him to become kinder even if it doesn't look like that all the time to other people. Sam and Tucker make him laugh, and smile, and just happy.
OG Danyal: wears pretty casual teen clothes. More punky-aesthetic. Has multiple ear piercings. These were self-done. Will have a lip piercing by the time he reunites with Damian, mark my words. Can and will wear muscle tees. Makes puns, jokes, is generally sassy with his friends. Can, will, and has climbed shit he shouldn't be because he enjoys the challenge of scaling a building. It's also very funny seeing Tucker and Sam reenact the "Gregory! HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?!" meme. Still has a questionable moral compass, but like, he's not an eco-fascist.
This Timeline Danyal: dresses much more sophisticated; dark academia vibe. Closed off, cold. Is 2x more likely to kill someone than OG Danyal, who was frankly, pr kosher with murder already but only if he deemed it extremely necessary. Still an eco-fascist.
Danyal without Sam and Tucker? Still believes in the teachings of the League because he has not been really challenged on them. In fact, he has doubled down on it, actually. Living in the city, growing up estranged and ostracized by his peers, has only strengthened his resolve that all of humanity minus the league (and the Fentons) deserves to be wiped out. He is disgusted by the people around him and desperately wants to go home, even more than the last timeline. The only reason he hasn't is for Damian's sake, but he's been checking in with mother whenever she visits and asking to find a way to come home. She's been steadily wearing down on it; her child is miserable here.
This version of Danyal should not have powers, and is, essentially on the fast track of rejoining the league -- doubly so when he hears Damian is living with father. Clearly it's safe enough for him to be with father, if mother allowed it, and father has become safe enough for Damian to live there. Good. With the threat of two heirs being in the League gone, Danny can return with Mother's permission. And. he probably takes Jazz (and the Fenton parents) with him. Forcibly if he has to.
So Sam has her work cut out for her here, a lot more than in canon, because even when she does tell him that they used to be friends in another timeline, and he believes it, he is not going to give a shit. Clearly they were not as good of friends as she thought they were, if she had wished they never met in the first place. Good riddance, then. This Danny is cold, incredibly hurt, and very closed off.
He is a cave wall in comparison to the Danny Sam knew, and talking to him feels like walking into one. Because he is looking at her with just utter disgust and disdain, keeping a distance like he is revolted by her presence and allergic to her and everyone else's touch.
Which really, really fucking hurts when she knows that in their last timeline, he would actively seek out her and Tucker's company and affection. Sam could read her best friend like an open book, and now its like she's trying to read one in another language she barely speaks. This boy used to smile at her, he used to laugh at Tucker's jokes, and he was so passionate about the things he enjoyed. Now he looks at her like he wants nothing more than for her to drop dead on the spot.
It hurts even more knowing that her last words to her Danny were the words, 'some days i wish we never met'; the way he looked at her afterwards haunts her. For a split second, he looked completely crushed and heartbroken, before his entire body language and expression shut off and he totally closed down on her.
Because by this point in his friendship with her and Tucker, he's told them, he has told them, in a very intimate moment of vulnerability, that they are one of the best things that's happened in his life -- right there alongside the day he first met his baby brother. They are very important to him, and he has finally felt comfortable enough with telling them. There's not a day that goes by that he isn't grateful for their friendship.
So to hear Sam say that some days she wishes they never met? well. That breaks his heart. Just- just a little bit. Sam regrets it the moment it leaves her mouth, and she immediately tries to apologize, but Danny immediately spits back; "Well. I hope you get your wish." and then stalks off.
I'm warring with myself here trying to decide whether or not this new timeline Danyal is at a "point of no return", where nothing Sam says is going to make him attempt to reignite that friendship. Clearly that will end badly anyways, if this is the result of that friendship. He's cut all ties from these people; he feels no prerogative to fix things she broke.
Like, the version of Danyal I'm thinking of here has no close bonds with anyone in the city sans Jazz -- and she? has her own life outside of Danny. She is not his keeper, not his caretaker, and certainly not his therapist. (which i have beef about too, considering how she gets boiled down to 'therapist with no life of her own' but im not going into that.) She has some influence on him, but frankly not enough to really make him challenge his beliefs. Danny cares about her that, if he returns to the league, she is coming with him. Or at the very least, will be spared from the League's goals.
Mmmm. I can't make it a total point of no return though. Sam's very stubborn, and she knows Danny. And while this Danny is still very different, he is still Danny. She'll try and befriend him insistently in a way that might annoy him, but at least not push him away further.
(Tucker, meanwhile, is just soo confused about Sam's very random, very abrupt switch up. Cuz girl he thought you hated this guy? Why are you suddenly trying to get all buddy-buddy with the terrifying Fenton kid. Have you been possessed? Is this some kind of crisis?)
(Sam drags Tucker into befriending Danny because he is the only person she knows that can get him to belly laugh. Tucker is mildly terrified but going along with it.)
Anyways this does end with Sam befriending Danny, or at least getting him to like her long enough that he'll pick up a ghost weapon and face off against Desiree. There's no way in hell he's walking into that portal, that last timeline might have been a 1/billionth chance of it happening and he's not dying for the chance to get powers. And frankly with his training -- which he's probably kept up with even more than the old timeline because he had no one to spend his time with -- he doesn't really need them to be good at fighting them. Just show him how to ghost proof a weapon and he'll handle the rest from there.
But Sam does end up undoing the wish and getting back to her own original timeline in the end. It's the morning after her fight, and the literal first thing she does that morning is get her shoes on and fucking sprriiint to the fenton house. Bursts into tears when she sees Danny and apologizes over and over again. She swears she didn't mean any of it, and to please believe her, and Desiree's still loose and they need to stop her, and she's had the worst time.
She does tell him about the other timeline she just went through, and she hopes that, if it still exists, that that Danyal manages to find friends in the Sam and Tucker there after this. And if not them, then anyone.
Danny's still pretty hurt by what she said, it cut really deep, but he forgives her.
-----
Tucker getting his powers! Frankly things gooo... relatively the same as canon, I think? Actually, no. Danny probably figures out the whole Genie "i wish you would go back into your lamp" thing faster than canon danny since he's not a C student lmao. TV.Tropes doesn't give me too much specifics for a recap on the plot, so we're gonna wing it. For the plot I'm going to say that Tucker gets his powers before Danny figures out the "i wish" thing, which happens relatively quickly.
Danny tries to be... rather supportive of his friend getting powers? Especially since, in comparison to Danny, it was rather painless. However, he's also very suspicious. He doesn't trust the source of Tucker's powers, and warns him to be careful and to let Danny know if he feels off in anyway.
Tucker does end up helping Danny a few times, but the quick progression of his powers and Tucker's willingness to use them more often than not worries him. He reminds him a handful of times that Tucker shouldn't rely on his powers to help -- not even Danny does that. He prefers to use his weapons and martial arts to fight instead. Tucker doesn't listen.
And they end up fighting anyways. Things get resolved, everything turns out okay!
------
Christmas episode straight up just. doesn't happen. Danyal doesn't care enough about the Fenton arguing or about Christmas to be upset about said arguing. He thinks its really childish, but he's not a grinch about all of it.
--------
Okay it wasn't explicitly mentioned but i have thought about TUE. And I'm trying to think how that would go because it's the result of Danny getting his hands on the math answers and cheating. Which Danyal would not do.
And someone mentioned in the comments on my ao3 under the oneshots there that TUE might just straight up not happen. Which makes sense, Danyal is so different from canon that things don't have to always happen like it did in canon. So that's something I need to chew about, cuz if it does happen, then I'm going to figure out a different way for it to.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#danyal al ghul au#dpxdc crossover#danyal al ghul#usually i'd have a plethora of tags to add. but i dont really have much running commentary in mind lmao#i technically could just blow them all up in nasty burger just without the added 'cheating' thing. however. thats boring.#so i'll do my own thing#things in threes au
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Sympathy is a knife.2
or; Wake up, I'm sorry.
Stanford!Tashi x tennis player!reader
Song of the post 'when you sleep - my bloody valentine'
Tashi Duncan visits you at the hospital. It could have been her.
SFW
2.4k words
you know the drill. injury, medical shit to the best of my ability which isnt a lot, tashi duncan being kinda gay??? homosexuality? in front of my salad? if you squint, reader being emo but like come on, hospitals, nurses, knee splints, DRUGS (the medical kind and morphine), reader is generally unwell but she also just came out of surgery, suicidal thoughts, more mentions of vicera, its the hospital episode (again) (like beach episodes but less horny and sexy and fanservicey more painful and ugly and intimate so nothing like a beach episode), enemies to idk what this is! I'm a native english speaker but i play fast and hard with the rules of the language (meaning i fuck up tenses a lot and don't catch it all in editing, but i know they're there so i think that makes it better), minimal use of Y/N but there are some points where I had to.
The steady rhythm of the heart rate monitor was the only indication that you were alive.
Tubes in your arm. Tubes in your throat. Hues of purple and yellow peaked from under the immobilizer brace and pins covering your leg and drainage tubes, matching with the same shades of color under your eyes.
Despite it all, she couldn't help but think you looked peaceful. You looked dead. The nurse said you were still knocked out from surgery and would be for a while. Tashi wondered if you were dreaming.
Tashi wondered if you always looked so lifeless in your sleep.
Her sepia eyes couldn't move from that leg. The bandaging, the knowing what's right under. She saw your soul, and then she saw your bones and blood. Tashi had cried in her mother's arms when it had fully hit her.
Tashi Duncan won the match. Your injury meant your forfeit. It didn't taste as sweet at she wanted, more bitter and even vexatious. She wanted to win through skill, not... this. It almost felt like you did this on purpose. You pitied her.
No, she knew that wasn't it. It was easier to blame you than accept the fate of an athlete. These things just... happen, sometimes. It could've been her, instead. But it wasn't. It was your bones that reached for the sunlight filtering down on the court amongst the blooming crimson, not hers. Tashi was here, standing before your resting form, with two perfectly functional knees.
When the nurse came and told her it was time to leave, and Tashi gathered her things from the small armchair in the corner of the room where she watched you from, she felt... strange. Changed.
The fan of your eyelashes on the tops of your cheeks, your pallor, the halo of hair framing your face and resting head. Those tubes. The IV. The heart rate monitor. The surgical steel pins securing your knee in place. Her eyes land on the small tattoo on your inner wrist, one she'd never noticed before. Tashi recognized them as your father's initials.
There was the girl she hated, softly asleep despite her surroundings. You almost looked beautiful, and then she got this feeling in her chest, and it startled her.
She pitied you.
Waking up was miserable. Your throat was dry like never before, the lights hurt your eyes worse than any hangover you've experienced, and the feeling of the scratchy hospital gown made you want to claw your skin off. You could hear your heart rate monitor, and in that moment you wished it would just flatline.
The sob that broke out, despite how dry you felt, when you saw the state of your knee, was ugly. Your nurse, Nurse Amanda, was a useless piece of shit. You had major respect for healthcare workers and everything that they have to go through on a daily basis, but Amanda could go fuck herself to hell. She's the one that had asked you for an autograph when you requested your brother's music to be played.
"Oh, your knee." She'd say casually while writing things down on a chart as disgusting, fat, blobs of salt ran down your face and chin and you tried to remember how to breathe properly. "Some physio and you'll be right back on the court or in the club. I'm sure."
"How," hiccup, "How much physio?" You try to wipe the tears, but more keep coming. It's like your eyes were sucking any moisture from your mouth and lips just to supply a fresh batch of them. Wasn't Amanda supposed to bring you water?
Fucking Amanda looks down at her chart, tapping a pen to her chin. You were on drugs, but no amount of them could completely rid the feeling of your knee and it freaked you out. Every time the corner of your eye caught on the metal pins that poked from it, you felt a shiver run through you. "About a year, possibly more, possibly less. It was a brutal break."
She covered her mouth sheepishly like she just told you the secret ingredient in a family recipe. "Oh, I shouldn't have said that."
No, she shouldn't have. It just makes you stare at your fucked leg even harder. It just makes the tears fall even more. The collar of your hospital gown, one a powder blue, now soaked a darker cornflower.
When Tashi returns, you've calmed down considerably-- mostly thanks to the increased dosage of morphine. It's been two days since, and it's actually hard to remember anything that happened that day. Or the day before, or when you first woke up this morning. God bless morphine.
Though you can't tell, Tashi hasn't changed from what she wore when she visited you yesterday. Nobody even told you that she came earlier, and she preferred it that way. She didn't know why she came back, or why her heart fluttered when the nurse told her that you'd woken up.
Tashi stood still at the door, and you lay exactly where you would stay for the foreseeable future on that damn hospital bed staring back at her. She noticed how you had such pained eyes. The harsh hospital light cast shadows from your browbones to your cheeks, draining color from your pupils. How'd she never seen it before? Words dried in her chest like withered flowers before they got the chance to bloom, and she could feel them sit there. Tashi honestly had no clue what she wanted to say. She could say "I'm sorry" or "Are you okay?" but those were useless words. She didn't like useless things.
When you spoke, and you spoke first after a long stretch of awkward silence and staring, your voice was clearer than it was earlier-- because Fucking Amanda finally remembered you might need hydrating after sobbing for three hours straight and major surgery. Despite that, you still spoke low and broken.
"What are you doing in New York?" She's meant to be back in France.
A pull between her eyebrows, like an invisible string being yanked. "What?"
You look aside at the circles of cleared dust. She heard you, you weren't that quiet.
"Fuck you." She slowly shakes her head. What she means is fuck you for questioning her, because she doesn't have a good answer. You can read between the lines.
You laugh at the suddenness of it, and then your head spins a little more. In a nice way, even though you're meant to be scared of her. "It's a reasonable question. You're meant to be playing against..."
"La Lourie."
"Right. Her. So, what are you doing in New York?" What are you doing here.
Tashi doesn't move from the door, arms crossed as her fingers pick at a loose string of her zip-up hoodie. She doesn't answer for a bit, eyes moving down to a spot on the floor. "I pulled out."
Your breath halts, looking up at her when her words pierce you like an arrow. You don't say anything, because really, you can't. What is there to say?
She finally steps in, leaning against the wall next to the door. An easy way out, and escape hatch. Tashi swallows thickly as the thread on the hoodie is pulled more and more. "I couldn't, uh," she blinks hard, shaking her head, "I couldn't go back out there. Not after that."
What an un-Tashi-like thing to say. She could've been in your place right now and she'd still get up and hobble to the courts, demanding someone play her. Yet, somehow, you ruined it for her. At least for now. She was meant to hate you.
"Your blood is... like, they cleaned it, but I swear I can still see it there. I had to leave."
"It's the French Open, Tashi--"
"And I'll win it next year. But, fuck, I can't play it now." she shakes her head with finality. "I tried, I went on the practice court but I could only picture you on the floor like that, crying and bloody and calling for your dad--"
Your eyes widen and your head snaps up to her. "What?"
The medical team rush from their tent onto the court, surrounding you almost the minute you crash and fall. You can't hear the scared murmurs of the croud, or the shaking breath of your opponent, or your own sobs. Just the blood rushing to your ears and out your knee.
Everyone saw how you clung to your leg, rocking back and forth on the clay. There's someone asking if you can move, someone calling for a stretcher. You just rock and cry.
"D-daddy," you whimper, eyes on the clear blue sky and swirling clouds as your vision blurs and doubles. "Dad, daddy where are you? I want my dad, I need my dad,"
The pain got so bad you stopped feeling it.
Those in the crowd who knew about your dad gasped. Amber stood frozen, watching, not knowing what the hell there was to do. Tashi couldn't feel her legs and her stomach turned. She ran off the court into the player's tunnel, spilling out into the first trashcan she could find. When they finally got you onto the stretcher and off the court, you'd passed out.
Naturally, it was all over the news. Players get injured all the time, but it wasn't often that players like you crashed and burned so brutally. News sites discussed and speculated in detail about the match, everything before, and everything after. TMZ reached out to Amber, who declined to give them any information, and even Tashi got called by a few publishers.
Amber came to your room an hour after Tashi left, rushing to your bedside as bombarding you with questions.
"Oh, fuck," She mumbled, looking over at the mess you were in. "Oh, fuck, I'm so sorry I didn't-- couldn't come sooner. I- I don't," words failed her. Sure, Amber was hard on you, and maybe she considered leaving your career in the hands of someone more emotionally capable very often, but she did care for you. Like a sick, twisted mother-daughter relationship despite the fact she was only a couple years older.
You could tell how hard she tried to not look at your leg, to keep her eyes focused on your top half. You could almost hear the anxiety going on inside that head of hers. The job insecurity must be wild. Where'd she get her check now?
Patrick was next. He almost threw up from a mix of the jet lag and seeing you. "Jesus fuck, Y/N."
He couldn't walk all the way in at first, staying by the door like Tashi had earlier. It was so much. "I got on a plane the second I could. God, this is sick."
It took him a while to come in and not feel faint, sitting by your bedside and not letting his eyes zero in on The Knee. Patrick wasn't a religious man, not by far, but he felt like praying for you.
Your mother was last. Nothing much to note there, it was a silent visit only interrupted by a call she 'had to take'. She didn't return. Seline sent a card which now lies facedown and unopened on the bedside table.
A hand on her shoulder startles Tashi from her vacant staring at her knee, a soft "We're here, Tash." from the driver's seat telling her they're home. It's been a week, now, since your fall. Looking up at the passenger's seat mirror, Tashi can see soft circles darkening under bloodshot eyes, a testament to the night terrors she's been greeted with every time she closes her eyes.
She was meant to move out ages ago from her childhood home but never quite got there. Art said it was because she was secretly sentimental, but Tashi just assumed it was cause her bed only felt right in that room. Nothing felt right, now.
Tashi helps her mother carry in the groceries, Nat and Renee bickering at the table about one thing or the other instead of helping. The older sister doesn't really hear, the words just pass through her as one bag, then another is set on the counters. She's asked to pick a side, the answer is a dismissive hand wave, their mother tells the twins to leave Tashi to breathe.
They've been tiptoeing around her all week but she's too zoned out to bother to tell them to stop. The truth is, Tashi doesn't feel like Tashi. She feels replaced, swapped out. A part of her kicks and screams at her for withdrawing from the Open, and everyone around her can tell.
Every time she sees her knees, she thinks about how it could've been her on the ground screaming, crying out for her mom or dad. Tennis was her fucking lifeline, thinking of it being ripped away like that in a blink of an eye... something in her head throbs and Tashi flops back onto her bed, staring at her blank ceiling.
She feels like she's swimming through life in a pool of shock. Nothing sounds full, everything feels slightly blurry against her skin. Art keeps calling and texting, asking if she's alright, if he should come over. She dismisses him every time. Her mother knows she needs her space to process everything, but now it feels like everything is giving her space. Too much space. She's suffocating.
Tashi forgot to ask for your number. She really wants to talk to you, despite it all. God, she can't even remember why she decided she hated you. Was there a reason at all? Did she hate you cause she felt like she had to, because everyone else did? It was like with Britney or Amy, watching them go through shit and instead of sympathizing, criticizing. Is that what Tashi was doing? Wasn't she better than that? Losing to you hurt, that was for sure, and she didn't exactly respect the DUI, but everything else... why did it matter so much to her?
All the shit-talking, all the tabloids about you she read, all the gossip she'd listen to intently from other players. It made her sick to think about, because now, and only now, she saw you as the person you were. It only took you losing it all for her to see.
Didn't her mother raise her better than that?
She grabs a pillow, pulling it over her face to block out the world. Downstairs she can hear the argument between Nat and Renee heat up, her father in the next room on a work call, her mother making fresh juice in the kitchen. The neighbor's dog, Lucky, is barking outside. Someone's starting a car. Art's new text buzzes her phone.
Tashi thinks about how the whole world moves on while you're stuck in that bed, and how it could have been her.
first prev
#challengers#challengers 2024#tashi duncan#x reader#zendaya#challengers fic#art donaldson#patrick zweig#angst#tashi duncan x reader#enemies to lovers#rivals to lovers#tashi duncan fic#enemies to.... whatever you call this#shorter than part one because i just can NOT do another six thousand word piece right now#finally finished#its 5 am#kaz i wish you were here to read this </3
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Scenario with platonic yandere Itachi and a daughter darling he never knew about? Like, maybe he was yandere for her mother too and she escaped, gave birth in secret, and then the two of them meet for the first time years later on not so friendly terms.
Sure! Just letting everyone know I am not finished Naruto so I apologize if I get Itachi's character wrong in anyway. I watched a "The Life Of..." video and made the plot of this take place at any time.
A/N: UGH, Now I really want to see an interaction of Itachi's Daughter and Sasuke meeting!!! They'd probably be the Itachi hate club, ngl. "We collectively want this guy dead" kinda vibe.
Sins of The Father
Yandere! Platonic! Itachi Uchiha with Daughter! Darling
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Guilt, Lucid yandere, Manipulation, Angst, Itachi was yandere for your mother, Slight mature themes, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping implied, Forced relationship (Your mother)/companionship (You).
Itachi had a feeling you wouldn't like him when he met you. He's a man who has done many hurtful things to those he loves in order to protect them. He really should've stayed at a distance and continued to observe others without interfering.
But your mother had driven him mad.
Itachi had once had a girlfriend before his many sins, yet when she passed he had found a new love. Your mother had managed to catch Itachi's heart. Even though he should've stayed away...
He couldn't.
He always wanted the best for her. He wanted to protect and love your mother. He wanted a family, to be her one and only.
He had even gotten close to the point of bedding her, a guilty pleasure he knew he shouldn't have indulged in. However, he and your mother were originally in love. He loved every second of it...
Then she learned the truth.
Your mother had learned he slaughtered his original clan. That he was a criminal. No matter how much he promised to protect her, to love her, she hated him.
But he kept her to himself no matter what.
Itachi felt bad deep down. It was a similar feeling to when he had to leave Sasuke to his own devices. Those he loved resented him... that was his curse.
He promised your mother the world. It was as though Itachi was searching for redemption within your mother. Unfortunately, while she loved him once...
She'd never love him again.
One day after a mission he came home to see her gone. His love had run from him, yet Itachi didn't give chase. He knew it was probably for the best. Even if his heart ached it was probably deserved.
Years pass by and Itachi feels his heart clench. He's stoic but he can't help it when he sees a mirror of his love in front of him. You have such angry eyes...
Your hate reminds him of Sasuke....
Itachi couldn't bring himself to fight you. Even after all of his sins he stays a pacifist. He just knows you're the daughter of his love.
Itachi wishes he knew his love was pregnant. He knows she never would've told him, yet he would want to help you the best he can to grow. However... without any of his help...
You stand in front of him, a strong Kunoichi, a dangerous hate burning in your eyes.
When you attack and he defends, Itachi can see your eyes clearly. At some point in your life you had even received your Sharingan. His heart throbbed for a moment, you really were his daughter...
Yet your mother was most likely deceased.
He stuck to the defensive when you attacked him. You had to have known you were related. Your mother must have told you about him....
He couldn't tell if you were attacking him because he was Akatsuki or because he was your father. It didn't seem to matter to you. He could tell from your rage you just wanted him gone.
It hurts... yet he's used to it.
He hates that you had to meet like this. Even when he wasn't around you, he still managed to harm someone he loved. For that reason... you don't deserve anymore pain.
Itachi was careful to only use Genjutsu when fighting you. He knew he should run from you, silence his emotions and leave. Although... you wouldn't let him leave...
He didn't want to leave you either.
Itachi whittled down your strength slowly. Even though you were his daughter, your power could not compare to his. He wondered if you ever met Sasuke... or what you both would do if you ever did....
When Itachi sensed your strength leave you, he made things quick. The older Uchiha is quicker than you, restraining you with a mix of tools and Genjutsu. He can see your eyes widen, trying your best to read him. You may even fear death.
Only for Itachi to find himself tugging the restraints to pull you closer.
He can see you freeze when he holds your face up, looking into your eyes. He observes your Sharingan, a thoughtful gaze in his eyes. Then... a ghost of a smile is on his face.
"I'm sorry we never properly met." He sighs, "Your hate for me is justified, In fact you'd get along with my brother just fine."
You stare at the older Uchiha, he can see your hate simmer for a moment. He sighs softly, releasing his grip on your chin to sit beside you. You're all he has to remember his love by....
"I never meant to harm you or your mother." Itachi admits, pain evident in his eyes. He's slowly dying yet life still managed to give him you. "I wish I could've been a father to you... I'd love you forever."
He finds himself tapping your forehead, amused at how tired and shocked you look.
"In fact..." He whispers, ignoring the ache in his heart. "I love you now. That will never change."
"You don't know me." You hiss, snake venom in your tone.
"I know..." Itachi murmurs. "But I loved your mother."
"I'm not her. She didn't love you." You respond back, Itachi going silent. He wasn't delusional. He knew you spoke the truth.
But he hugged you anyway, even if you hated it.
"I'm glad I met you." Itachi sighs, proud of you even if he only ever hurt you. "You're all I have to remember what I could've had."
You almost feel bad for him. Itachi didn't cry, but his tone was depressing. You could barely believe you were related....
Before you're able to say anything else, be that something spiteful or genuine... Itachi knocks you out. He makes it quick, carefully catching you when you slump against him in your restraints. Itachi is a man of many sins...
Yet he couldn't leave you... not when you brought up memories of more pleasant times.
"I'm sorry..." He apologizes to your limp body, holding you close. "Please allow me to stay like this a bit longer, my daughter."
It's then Itachi stays still, embracing you tightly...
If only things were different... if only he didn't hurt all those he loved.
If only he stayed away from your mother.
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You know what I find really, really funny?
You know how Reigen drops his "oh, I don't think anybody would like me if they saw the real me" on Serizawa (that definitely was not on his job's description)? Obviously there's a whole thing there with how he sees himself but how in the end he stops lying to Mob and confesses the truth to him.
And then... he kinda just stops there.
In the spin-off he doesn't tell the truth to Tome until he thinks he has no other choice because she's putting herself in danger by working under the wrong assumption that he's a psychic, and while doing so, he asks her not to tell Serizawa. He was honest with Mob, but that was with him and only him. His default mode is still lying and hiding.
And the thing is obviously these people he has surrounded himself with, purposefully or accidentally, don't like him because they think he's an esper —at this point I don't think he's fooling even half of them, frankly—, or even because of his whole... energetic, over the top persona. They like him because of the kind of person he is, whether he's keeping his whole salesman attitude or whether he's a bit quieter and less self-assured.
Now, it's kinda easy to see why he would think he has to keep that up, initially he presented himself to Mob as this wise mentor figure, half of the other people he knows are kids for which he feels the responsibility to be a reliable adult figure, and then there are cases like Serizawa and the ex-Scars who do hold him in high regard and see him with a certain degree of admiration, all of that sort of tied with his fake psychic status.
And so it's very amusing to me that the one person who could show him VERY clearly that people care about him regardless of all of that is... Ritsu.
Because here's the thing, he was jealous of Reigen to some degree since he was someone Mob could confide in, unlike Ritsu due to the distance that had formed between them after the incident. And I think part of his irritation with Reigen was definitely that he was so evidently (to him anyway) a fraud, so that put Ritsu pre-awakening of his powers and Reigen at the same level and yet... Mob always went to Reigen for advice and guidance. It's very understandable for him to have been annoyed considering that.
Through the story it's more than evident that Ritsu is very, very aware that Reigen is a fraud, and though he's open with his distaste, at some point it feels a bit more like a normal kind of distaste. Reigen might have his morals and principles as a fraud, but he's one nonetheless, plus his personality doesn't mesh particularly well with Ritsu, and quite honestly? If I were 13yo and had to interact with someone like Reigen, I think I would be feeling a good amount of second hand embarrassment that ends up in annoyance.
But Ritsu doesn't really hate Reigen. He's comically annoyed by him, sure, but it's more than obvious he doesn't hate him.
When push comes to shove, he never wishes any actual ill will toward Reigen, he helps pull him away from Ishiguro in 7th Division Arc, for example, and when he goes to face Toichiro to help Mob, Ritsu is the one showing visible concern for what's going on when they see the explosion and the fire from down below, with his little "Reigen-san..." (as a sidenote, I love how the English dub does this with the "please, be okay").
My favorite example of this by far is Separation Arc, because Ritsu has genuine reasons to be pissed at Reigen this time around, if he sort of gathered that he mistreated Mob, and yet what he does is... he watches the press conference. It isn't even because of Mob, he's not sitting down with him or even watching with his parents or anything, it's just him, he had to have made the active choice to watch. And he could be vindictive and it would be such a reasonable posture to take because, again, Reigen was a goddamn jerk to his brother and the situation snowballed from there, but he isn't, he's visibly concerned for him.
That is NOT a boy who doesn't care, much less one who hates Reigen.
And it's so funny to me that the one person who could show Reigen all of those fears he has about that side of him he hates being a deal breaker for the people around him is also the one who makes faces at the idea of going to stay over at his apartment.
#don't get me wrong i think their dynamic is fascinating but also. it's really fucking funny things are like this#anyway i'm just yapping but it just gets me. they get to me. i think about reigen and his little ducklings a normal amount#reigen arataka#kageyama ritsu#mp100#mob psycho 100
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Could you please write a short story on reader distancing herself from chan bc another member (any member of your choice) confessed to her that they caught feelings for them too and reader feels really conflicted since they do not want to cause any tension between the group and reader is scared to tell chan but also doesn’t know what to do?? like they don’t want either party to feel bad and kind of are thinking about leaving chan so that there’s no conflict, but chan finds out in the end, and they talk about it?
Absolutely love you and your work!❤️❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰🥰
Hurt 🕸🤍 - part 1
[You rejected Hyunjin because you are dating Chan]
Bang Chan x Reader x Hyunjin
🕸🤍 read guide lines in Masterlist!
THIS IS (OBVIOUSLY) ALL FICTION AND IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY! THIS IS MY PERCEPTION OF HOW I THINK SKZ WOULD BEHAVE IN SITUATIONS LIKE THIS AKA, NOT REAL.
[03:43 AM]
It was the middle of the night when you got the messages. You couldn't sleep because of your boyfriend's snoring anyways, so decided to unlock your phone very quietly, to check it.
You couldn't believe your eyes. ''Out of nowhere?'', you talked to yourself, but a little too loud. But it woke up your boyfriend, who is well known for his light sleeping. ''Hm?'', he said soflty.
You didn't want to talk about this with him all sleepy, so you played it off. ''Nothing babe, go back to sleep.'' You kissed his forehead, and he did as you said.
Then you looked back at the screen filled with the words you didn't want to see. You couldn't have this conflict, especially not in the group. Why did he have to tell you...this made things incredibly difficult...for litterly all of you. You liked Hyunjin...but only as a good friend, nothing more. Ever. You were hopelessly in love with Chris.
You wished Hyunjin never had send you these messages. It's like the universe heard your wish, cuz as soon you thought of it...the messages disappeared.
Even though he deleted the messages, you still read them. It couldn't just be deleted from your memory now too. You decided not to reply anything.
Did he see that you were online? Did he see that you read the messages? Did he feel guilty and that's why he deleted it? You had many questions. But most of all, you kinda hated the fact that he deleted it...since now you couldn't show it to Chris, if you had to...cuz you always wanted to be honest to him about everything. And this felt like something you had to talk to him about. Also because well... it´s one of his best friends....but also a member of his group. This would stir up a lot, and with the comeback and all...you didn't want them to have a conflict.
You decided to just leave it for now, and hopefully you could both just forget he ever said it in the first place.
[07:00 AM]
Chris's alarm clock went off. Both of you groaning since you didn't wanna get up yet. ''5 more minutes....pleaseee.'' He giggled. ''Nauuur baby, it's an important day. It's the first day of rehearsal for the tour stage. And you promised you'd be there.''
Right after he said that he jumped out of bed, going into his bathroom, taking a quick shower, brushing his teeth etc. You did the same...after your extra 5 minutes of sleep.
When you were done, dressed and ready to start the day you walked into the living room. Innie was already up. ''Morning...sleep well?'', Innie asked. He asked kindly, but a little worried. You nodded and looked at him questionably.
''I don't know, I had to pee during the night and saw light coming from under your door. Thought you might have been awake.'', he said.
You remembered the messages, from Hyunjin. ''Oh that... yea I couldn't sleep for a bit, due to this beautiful persons' snoring.'' you said as you pointed at Chris who obliviously walked out of the kitchen, into the living room with you both. ''Hm? Me? Snoring? Nah. Never.'' He grinned. It made you two laugh too.
''Well let's go shall we? It's gonna be a busy day!'', Chris hyped you both up. You both followed Chris out of the door. He noticed you looking down at the ground a bit as you stumbled behind Innie.
''You okay baby?'' You were nervous to see the other members. Hyunjin mostly obviously. You nodded and faked a smile.
''I'm really happy you're coming with us today.''. He said as he kissed your cheek and gave you a side hug, then grabbing your bag and carrying it for you. ''Me too.''.
[08:03 AM]
Chris and Innies apartment was close to the company, so you arrived in no-time. As you all got into the building you kept looking around to maybe catch a glimpse of Hyunjin yet, so you could maybe talk to him in private before hand.
But unfortunately, you didn't see him. Not until you 3 reached the rehearsal stage. There he was. Talking with Seungmin about a part of the dance.
The second he noticed you he stood still. Looking at you with a wide-eyed gaze. Shit, he must've known you did in fact saw the messages.
Chris and Innie joined the others as you hung back for a bit. But you kept on observing the boys as they got started on their warm up. Smiling at Chris here and there, but then loosing that smile as soon as you remembered the predicament you were in.
Hyunjin looked at you from time to time too, and you looked back but immediately after, you'd look away and look down.
Chris started to notice the tension between you two and commented on it during their first break.
[11:34 AM]
''What is up with you both? You two fighting or something?'', he asked. You shook your head but kept looking at Hyunjin, who was currently drinking some ice coffee. ''No, something is definitely up y/n.'' You sighed.
You finally decided to cut the bullshit and got up, walking towards Hyunjin. Grabbing him by his arm and have him follow you backstage.
''Why did you send these words to me Hyunjin? You know I am dating Chris. I am in love with Chris! This...what you did...it makes things complicated.'', you said stern, due to frustration.
''I'm sorry, I just had to tell you. It's how I feel y/n.'' You sighed again. You understood how difficult it must be for him as well. But that didn't mean it wasn't difficult to you too.
''Can´t you, forget about those feelings and pretend it never happened? I can not lose Chris. But I also don't wanna loose you, Hyunjin. You are one of my best friends!'', you stated.
He stayed quiet for a bit. ''I knew you would never choose me over him, I truly do...but I just had to say it. So you'd know.'', he then said.
''Yeah, well, me knowing isn't good either. I don't know what to do now...'', you said as you ran your hands through your hair. ''You don't need to do anything.......it's good that you rejected me.''
You both stayed silent for a bit. You saw him tearing up a bit, since well...even though it was never your intention...you did break his heart. When you saw tears streaming down his face, you felt bad and hugged him.
''I truly am sorry...I hope you understand though...what position you've put me in, and yourself too.''. He nodded, understanding that if this got out, there would be consequences.
''You cannot tell Chris. Not now. Maybe in the future. But if he knew, he'd be angry.''. He looked at you with his red teary eyes. ''Okay.'', he replied.
He then walked back on to the stage, with you following him quickly after. The boys weren't blind and they obviously noticed his teary face immediately.
Chris mouthed to you from a far ''What happened''. You replied ''Don't worry about it''. But he obviously wouldn't let that slide so easily. As the guys walked closer to the both of you, it all started.
''Why is Hyunjin crying y/n?''.
Part 2
...Masterlist...
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎
© 2022-2025, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations
#stray kids#skz#skz fake texts#incorrect quotes#skz x reader#scenario#bangchan x reader#bangchan#faketexts#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin
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A vat7k related question.
What do you think is Hugo's gender identity? Cus I want to hear what you think Hugo's gender is and the story behind it.
EHEHEHE personally i think she’s genderfluid and uses he/she/they pronouns…….I think he was kind of an uncracked egg up until the trials though. like, he’s been in survival mode for so long that he’s never had the time or luxury to really think about himself or his identity….i think he’s had a lot of different disguises over his career though, and those personas are either male or female depending on what the situation calls for so he’s not a stranger to dressing femininely either.
but yeah…i think for a long time hugo just identified as male by default cuz like…what else would he be LOL. if he had any doubts at all they weren’t significantly hindering him or anything so he just buried them with all the other of the emotions he doesn’t want to feel. but like the closet is made of GLASS and this becomes especially obvious when she teams up with 3 other teenagers who are also transgender so sometimes she’ll just Say Shit and they all turn around and look at her like “…….🤨”
i have this very vivid scene in my head where varian comes out to the gang as trans and hes clearly really uneasy abt it. and hugo doesn’t know what to say so he just tries to relate by saying the first thing that comes to mind and goes “oh yeah i get it i mean. sometimes i wish i was a girl but like not all the time yk” and nuru and varian both just stop and stare at him
hugo, getting nervous: …Sorry that’s probably not the same thing forget i said anything
nuru: No i think we should talk about this?
anyways yeah….other than her traveling party giving her some weird looks nothing actually really came of these conversations bc hugo would refuse to think about herself even if you put a gun to her head
fast forward to post-trials though, and hugo’s been living in the castle with varian for about six months…it was REALLY messy for both of them while she was adjusting, but at this point shes finally started to let her guard down a little, and all of a sudden she has SO much free time and she has no idea what to do with any of it. she’s stealing collecting things, tinkering with all kinds of useless little gadgets, rapunzel is teaching her tons of little arts and crafts projects. overall shes pretty content despite everything. So anyways then the gender crisis hits them like a fucking freight train
honestly i’m like half joking when i say i think it started bc they just kept forgetting to cut their hair. like one day they looked in the mirror and they’re like “wow my hairs getting so long i kinda look like a girl lol. Wait”
AND AS FUNNY AS IT IS ITS SO. WILDLY UNFAMILIAR TO THEM. like all of a sudden theyre SO insecure for as far as they can tell, NO reason and it drives them CRAZY. i dont even think that hugo dislikes their masculine features after coming out, i think they embrace them if anything but its just like…going from 0 to 100 so fast and suddenly being so hyper aware of themselves in a way that they NEVER were before…having to realize that they’re definitely Not cis. it’s fucking TERRIFYING!!!
not to mention it hits him all at once during a time when he’s still frankly really paranoid about him and varian’s relationship, and he’s kinda walking on eggshells bc deep down he’s convinced that var’s just gonna get tired of him eventually and kick him out. its like he’s just waiting for the final nail in the coffin despite the fact that there is literally no coffin.
All that being said i think it takes him a while to work up the courage to talk to varian about it. and he knows he won’t like. hate him for being trans or anything (I sure hope he wouldn’t, at least, seeing as he is literally also trans) but varian’s already done SO much for him and helped him through literally everything already….he doesn’t want to burden him any more than he already has. he also cant comprehend that someone can just Like him, like, as a person, so he’s convinced himself that varian must see something specific in him right now and he’s afraid that if he changes himself drastically in any way then whatever varian saw in him just. won’t be there anymore. If that makes sense
as for who he actually goes to first- honestly i think it’d have to be lance. at least in my head lance was the first person hugo really started to bond with aside from varian….he didn’t start letting his guard down with rapunzel until quite a while after that. also i think he’s worried that if he tells rapunzel she’d end up accidentally spilling something to varian (which is like. Valid bc she’s a horrible liar) he’d definitely write a letter to nuru, too, but nuru is also in another kingdom, and that message takes a while to get to her, so it’s more something they talk about after the fact
when he finally does get a letter back after dumping this revelation on her it’s just like
“dearest hugo. upon reading your letter i desperately wanted to tell you that i told you so, but i realize that would be in poor taste, seeing as you are clearly struggling right now. Moreover,-“ /j
regardless of who she tells first, they obviously all support her and encourage her to talk to varian as well…And ofc varian hypes her up to no end when she finally does. i wanna say it’s a sweet emotional scene but i feel like varian was also under the assumption that she figured out the gender thing like a year ago /j
hugo: ,,,,so like. i don’t think i’m a guy
varian: . yeah?
hugo:
hugo: TFYM “YEAH”?????!!!!???
varian: D. DID WE NOT ALREADY KNOW THIS?
hugo: ,???? NO???!!???!
jokes aside though as soon as hugo does decide he wants to explore his presentation more varian immediately consults rapunzel who gets WAY too excited about it and it kind of scares hugo a little bit. /j like Do you want to cut your hair? Dye it? Do you want new piercings? TATTOOS????
they eventually just settle on getting her a few new pieces to add to her wardrobe and that works out fine. varian sees his girlfriend in a dress and loses his mind etc etc. All is right in the world
#vat7k#varian and the 7 kingdoms#tangled ask#varian and the seven kingdoms#varigo#varian#tts headcanons#pansy rambling again#pansy-art#i first answered this like two weeks ago but i lost the entire post and i got so mad that i just didnt bother writing it out again#until now i guess#hugo rottewange
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Hello♡i wish you the best , can you please do this request? , reader is a close friend of yuzuha and she usually goes to their house but once, when she and yuzuha were together and were talking, taiju comes in , he was angry and cold as usual, reader heard rumors about him being mean and abusive so thats why she was always kinda scared of him and now she finally see him. lets just say this was their first meeting ,anyway, a few monthes later when reader goes to their house to visiting yuzuha , after one hour of them talking, yuzuha leaves to buy smg?But taiju was also home in that time(or he comes to home when yuzuha was out?) so he sees the reader , taiju has a little interest/crush on reader but reader thinks he hates her because she is close friends of yuzuha/his siblings (You can also add hakkai as a readers friend ) i would be so thankful if you write this 🎀 btw english is not my first lang so i am wholeheartly sorry if i make a mistake, btw i love your account sm♡
It's okey!! English isn't my first language either! Thank you so much for requesting<3
And thank you for support<333
Every time it's possible to go over at Yuzuha's place, you never miss the chance. It's not that often that you get to stay at her place because of her family situation. You both were talking while drinking iced coffee.
It was absolutely pointless talk or maybe the only point it had was Yuzuha's laughter. She's the only friend that stayed by your side through hardships and only friend you truly trust. Yuzuha was very mature, even for her age, so seeing her laughing and enjoying something without a shred of worry puts your heart at ease.
"Let's watch movies. How does that sound?" Yuzuha said after putting the dirty cups in the sink.
"Sounds good." You agreed. Sitting on the couch, you took remote control in your hands and started searching for some good movies. While Yuzuha was in the kitchen, searching for popcorn.
"Dammit. We don't have popcorn." You heard her speak.
"It's okey, we can watch movies without it too."
"No way, it won't be same." You should have guessed that she would be persistent about it, since she's number one popcorn lover-especially when watching movies. "I'll go to nearby market." She said, already walking towards the door.
"Wait, you really don't have to..." Sure the market is nearby but still, you tried to stop her.
"Nah, we can't watch anything without popcorn." She answered, already putting her shoes on.
"Then I'll go with you."
"Nope, stay here and choose a good movie. Don't worry, it's okey." And with that, she left.
You sighed and turned to face the TV again, clicking on remote control's buttons to search a good movie. But right at that time, you heard the sound of door's opening, however it wasn't Yuzuha. "Yuzuha! Where ar-Ah, you." The long blue haired boy stepped out of his room, wearing grey sweatpants and black t-shirt, which was tight around his body. He was incredibly tall and well built. His sharp eyes landed on your figure, raising goosebumps in you.
"Y-Yuzuha went to the market.." You said, gulping rather loudly. It's not like you thought he was going to do something but it's just that only nasty rumours surround him. And let's say....The first meeting between you two wasn't very pleasant either and after visiting Yuzuha's place more, you were sure that he didn't like you at all.
But Yuzuha told you that that wasn't true or that Taiju didn't like others' presence something to be happy about. But still, that didn't reassure you one bit. I mean, you got along with Hakkai, even if he still was shy around you, he didn't dislike you at all. You couldn't say same about Taiju...
"Oh. I see." He simply said and made his way to the kitchen. His steps were heavy and strong. Even when he was at home and not in fights, he sure gave intimating aura. He truly looked like a leader, always.
You swallowed hard, not being used to atmospheres like this. Sure you have met scary guys before but Taiju was completely different level from them and the fact that he disliked you didn't help at all. I mean, he's the tenth leader of Black Dragons, one of the dangerous gang in Tokyo.
Even so you almost knew nothing about him so it wasn't right for you to judge him. Let's say, things just were awkward between you two.
"Do you want a drink?" Taiju's rough voice snapped you out of your thoughts, you looked behind you and saw him leaning against a wall.
"Uh, no, thank you." You gave him small smile and all he responded with was simple nod before going back to the kitchen.
Well, so far, he's nice. You thought to yourself. The entrance door opened and Yuzuha finally walked in the house. "I'm back." She shouted and took her shoes off. "Did you choose a movie?"
"Well..."You turned your attention back to TV and named the first movie that caught your eye. "What about Dead Poets Society? Sounds interesting."
"Sure, whatever." She said from the kitchen, starting to make popcorn.
Taiju eyed you from the kitchen before turning to Yuzuha. "Will she be staying here for a night?" He whispered.
Yuzuha turned to him, somewhat hesitant. "Yeah...Why? Is it a problem?"
He shakes his head. "No, just wanted to know." Taiju looked at you again, his face relaxed and soft. But when you glanced at him, probably felt someone looking at you, he immediately turned around with slight, almost invisible pink blush on his cheeks.
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