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#she can’t tell me what to do forever and I can’t wait until I have access to my own bank account and get a job to save up money
greatooglymooglyyy · 3 hours
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Lovers and Friends 2 (M.S.)
summary: when y/n's boyfriend invites her out to a dinner a week before her birthday, the last thing she's expecting is to get broken up with. but little does she know, it opens a window for her bestfriend, matt, to tell her what he's been trying to for years; that he's hopelessly in love with her. headed off to vegas for her dream music festival, matt (and the rest of their crew) try to find a way to open her eyes to what she's been blind to for years... that it's been them all along.
executive produced & cowritten by sienna @rootbeerworshiper
contains: pining, brokenhearted reader, fluff, cussing, flashbacks (in italics), 2.4k words, dual pov
a/n: sigh, i couldn't bring myself to proofread tn. maybe tmw. also ik the real lovers and friends festival is only one day BUT i needed it to be 3 days so just vibe lil baby
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Y/N's POV
“How the fuck are you still not done packing?” Nick questions, standing there like a disappointed father while I shove random articles of clothing into my suitcase.
“I….. well I’m not sure. I just procrastinated.” I reply, a slight wash of embarrassment settling over me as I attempt to zip up an already full pouch in the suitcase.
Madi just laughs from the couch, her bags packed and placed neatly beside her. “Y/N always takes forever to pack. It’s just who she is”
“Well I want to meet the person who’s great idea it was to book plane tickets for a six am departure time.” I groan, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I think about what else I might need.
“Hey, are we ready to go?” A familiar voice says, walking out of his bedroom on the main floor.
“There you go! The man of the hour.” Nick jokes, gesturing towards Matt who’s walking towards the living room with freshly wet hair and a duffle bag slung on his shoulders.
“Y/N, are you still not done packing?” Matt questions, walking over to me after setting down his bag on the floor.
I look up at him, scolding him with my eyes. “No, I'm not done Matthew. Someone decided to book the world’s earliest flight.”
He chuckles softly, bending down to my level and beginning to help you repack slightly, his hands rolling up my clothes smaller than I could have.
For whatever reason I can’t bring myself to look away, infatuated by his focus as he tucks away random shirts into my suitcase.
This is until his eyes meet mine, looking up at me and holding my gaze for a moment. My head keeps telling my to look away, but it’s as if my body is speaking for me, our eyes remaining contact until someone walks in, the sound of the front door breaking the hold we shared.
I cough, clearing my throat as Nate makes his way up the stairs. “Are we ready to go?” he asks, making his hands comfortable on his hips.
Before i can speak, Matt answers. “Yeah I think we’re good now”
“Wait where the fuck is Chris?” Nick asks, standing up from his spot on the couch next to Madi.
“Did no one wake him up?” Nate questions. “This happened last time too.”
I laugh at the irony of being judged for packing at the last minute when a member of our group is still sound asleep. “He’ll be fine. It takes him two seconds to pack.”
“Christopher!” Nick singsongs, skipping out of the room and heading to annoy Chris awake. Nate laughs and trails behind, yelling something about the city that never sleeps.
Madi and I share a long-suffering look before I turn back to Matt and shrug. “I think I’ve got everything.”
He sweeps his eyes over the room doing a last scan, his eyes stalling on the kitchen counter. “You’re not taking your glasses?”
“Nah. I’ll put my contacts in when we get there. I don’t really need to see anything before that.” I say as I place my suitcase on the ground and yank up the handle.
“Okay.” Matt says, hesitating and dragging out the work like he’s unsure.
Before I can respond, Nate and Nick come back up the stairs, each of them holding one of Chris’ bags. He trails behind them, yawning and clearly cranky. When he sees us staring at him, he throws us a hard glance. “What are you looking at motherfuckers? We going to Vegas or what?”
*********************************************************
After we get through security, we sit in our section huddled over Nick’s phone as he explains the itinerary. I squint down at the phone, throwing daggers at Matt when he gives me a pointed look. Okay so maybe he was right about the glasses. So what? Broken clocks babe.
“Wait!” I cut in as I look at Sunday’s lineup. “What if we miss N-Sync?”
“Then I’ll do my little dancey-dance.” Nate mutters under his breath and Madi pushes his shoulder.
“We won’t.” She assures me and I smile at her gratefully.
My phone pings alerting me that my ex has posted and my face drops. Before I can open Instagram, Nick looks over my shoulder and sighs. He holds out his hand and gives me a stern face. “Give me your phone. I’m deleting the app.”
“But-”
“Y/N. You are not spending your birthday trip cyberstalking this fucking loser. Phone.”
I groan and hand over the phone, dropping my head onto Chris’ arm who pats my back awkwardly. Nick grins and hands me my phone back sans Instagram. “There. Download it back and I’ll hurt you.”
Over the intercom, an attendant calls for our group so we stand to line up. I walk over to Madi and link our arms since we had to get seats a few rows behind the rest of our group. “I downloaded the Corpse Bride just for you babe.” I say as we make it to our line.
“Um, actually” Madi says, pulling away from me, her face showing a tinge of panic. “Matt, is it okay if we switch seats? I have something I need to talk to Nick about.”
Matt looks confused for a fraction of a second but nods and steps out of line, swapping spots with her.
I look between all my friends with a raised eyebrow, the feeling that I’m missing something heightening. “What do you-” I start to ask but Matt cuts me off, uncharacteristically loud.
“What’s your favorite song of the week?” He asks, giving me a small private smile. I grin at the question, pulling out my phone to check.
“favorite color?” matt scrawls out, sliding a piece of paper across the desk when our teacher turns back to the board.
“light pink” i write back quickly, watching his reaction and smirking before he even writes back.
“basic.”
“okay mr.blue” i toss him an joking evil eye when i pass the note back and he bites his lip to hide a smile.
“favorite song?”
i stare at the note for a long time, tapping my pen against my chin, before i finally answer. “that’s impossible to answer. there’s too many to pick from.”
matt thinks for a while, leaning back into his chair. “what’s your favorite of the week?”
“probably selfcare by mac. why?”
he smiles over at me when he passes the sheet back. “i’ll keep asking you every week. maybe one day something will stick.”
And for the last six years, he’s done exactly that, remembering to ask like clockwork. I look up at him from under my lashes, already knowing he’s going to make fun of me. “Okay, hear me out.”
“Oh god-”
When we take off, I connect Matt and I’s headphones both to my phone so I can play him my throwback playlist. He’s being a bit of a hater but I know if we weren’t in public, he’d be jumping around and dancing to Jay Sean’s Down.
I huff in frustration as I bring my phone closer to my face, feeling a lot like grandma. Matt leans down and grabs his backpack from between his legs, reaching inside and pulling out my glasses. I laugh without meaning to and give him a grateful smile. “You’re such a know-it-all.”
“Someone’s got to.” He responds, leaning over my seat and hitting skip when Akon comes on.
As a 90’s love song starts up, I notice Matt bouncing his leg a bit like he does when he’s nervous. I furrow my brows knowing he’s not usually an anxious flier. When I drop my head on his shoulder, he stills immediately so I keep it there, closing my eyes and letting the music take me away. The last thing I register before I fall asleep is the pressure of Matt resting his head gently on top of mine.
*********************************************************
“Wake up, Madi!” I say as I flop onto her bed. “Let’s go see the turtles.”
“Go. Away.”
I can definitely understand her want for a nap after that flight but thankfully I’m wide awake. Matt and I managed to sleep the entire flight away unlike our friends. They apparently started up an entire Candy Crush tournament complete with a betting ring. Madi, the saint that you are.
“C’mon. You gotta get up for Y/N and Matt.” Nick says. When I throw him a puzzled look, he adds hastily, “and Nate and Chris!”
Weird.
Madi groans but rolls out of bed like a trooper to Nick and I’s chants of encouragement. While she goes to touch up her makeup and Nick makes sure the boys are ready, I order the Uber. When it’s confirmed, I open my messages, reading the one I received last night for the hundredth time.
‘i’m sorry. i wish it was you"
My fingers hover over the keyboard as a million replies rush to my head but I force myself to put the phone down instead. I’m on my dream trip with people who love me. Somehow I can make that be enough. Even if I wasn’t enough for Asher.
When we pull up to the aquarium, I’m bouncing with excitement. I look over at Chris knowing he loves shit like this just as much as me. “What’s first?”
To my left, Nate opens up the map of the aquarium, looking like a dad on vacation. “I vote seahorses.”
“Lame!” I protest, looking over his shoulder. “They have a fucking shark tunnel, bro.”
“But can their men get pregnant?” Chris retorts as if this is the most obvious deciding factor there could be. I roll my eyes and look back as Matt gently touches my elbow.
“I’ll go with you to the sharks and we can meet back up later.”
I clap excitedly before waving at the rest of our group and heading upstairs.
“It’s been a lot of me and you so far, huh? Hope you’re not getting sick of me.” I joke as we step to the side and allow a mom with a stroller to pass us.
But Matt doesn’t laugh, he just shakes his head giving me a quiet and earnest, “Not possible.”
In the tunnel, we stand shoulder to shoulder and look up as a tiger shark swims over our heads. I glance over at Matt, noticing how the reflection of the water tinges his face a cool blue, and let my eyes wander down his jawline.
When he flicks his eyes back to me, I look away, pointing at a shark in the distance. “I wish she’d come closer. She’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. She is.” He replies, but when I look back at him he’s not looking into the tank at all. When I open my mouth to question him, I hear someone call our names.
“What, Nick?” Matt says, sounding a bit irritated.
“They are going to let us hold the baby turtles!” He says, his voice pitching up in excitement.
At this, Matt and I share a glance before we take off out of the tunnel, pushing each other childishly to be the first in line.
While we’re waiting for the show-and-tell to start, sitting criss-cross applesauce like a bunch of kids, my phone dings so I pull it out. My heart drops when I open a text from one of my friends with a screenshot of Asher’s instagram story.
It’s a picture of him and Olivia, her sitting casually in his lap, while they both grin. When I look closer, I realize that I know the background; they are at his parent’s house. He’s already brought her home to them. My eyes start to water and I stand up.
The same Asher who told me time and time again that he just ‘wasn’t the Instagram official type’. The same Asher who only let me meet his mom once after months of asking.
“Are you okay?” Madi asks, standing with me and looking down at my phone. When she sees the picture, she whispers a quiet, “oh” and wraps her arms around me.
Chris takes the phone out of my hand and almost immediately starts ranting which is more than I can handle right now.
“I’m going to head back to the hotel. You guys should stay.” I say, grabbing my phone back and ordering another Uber.
“You’re not going back alone. Are you crazy?” Nate says, standing with the rest of the group.
I sigh in frustration, trying not to snap at them. I know they are just trying to help. “Please. I need to be by myself.”
*****************************************************
Matt POV
Thanking my Uber driver, I get out of the car with my bag and gently close the door. After Y/N left the aquarium, the day was pretty much over for me. After we sat together watching her location to make sure she got back to the hotel safely, I was the next to go.
I headed off to the store to get some of her favorite things in the hopes of maybe saving the first night of her trip. For some reason, I’m full of nerves as I knock on her room door. But to my surprise, Nick swings the door open instead of her.
“Oh, hey Matt. We were wondering where you were.” He says, his voice holding a bit of relief.
I give him a weary smile and peer over his shoulder, noticing Madi and Y/N sitting in the bed, all three of their faces covered in a lime green mask. Nick steps back to let me in and I stroll awkwardly over to stand in front of her.
“I…uh…got you some stuff. Thought it might make you feel a little better.” I say as I hand her the bag. Her eyes light up as she looks through the bag and I smile, taking in her face. She’s obviously been crying, the reddening of her eyes giving her away, but she seems okay.
“That is so sweet, Matty. You didn’t have to.” She says, reaching up and touching my arm.
I shrug, not knowing how to tell her I’d do it a thousand more times just to see her smile. “It’s nothing.”
I tell them all goodnight and head back to my room. As I leave the room, I hear Nick tell a joke and Y/N’s genuine full laughter. I pause outside the door, leaning against it for a second and smile.
I’m just glad she has someone with her to make her laugh, someone that gives her comfort. Even if it’s not me. Even if it never is.
🏷️/ @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos
@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable @st4rswrld @thvvluvr @sturnssmuts @littlenerdybee @sturniolossss @iloveneilperry @eclipzw @chrissloverrrrrrr16 @sstvrnioloo
@clemlament @fwskullz @luv4kozume @lotsofloveloulou @thebottledwatersupplier
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kingkonoha · 5 months
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TELL ME || Levi A.
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even during the battle to end the rumbling, levi can’t help but think about you.
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“Tell me, Y/N . . . Are you proud of me? Or are you disappointed? Did I fight hard enough? Could I have done more?”
Unanswered questions continued to appear in Levi’s mind as he glanced down at the blood splattering onto his fingertips, dripping from his mouth.
“Will I see you again someday? How long do I have to wait until I can know the answer to that?”
The pain in his leg was horrific. Awful. Indescribable — there weren’t any words in existence that could accurately detail the burning, aching sensation that made him wish he could chop off his own leg to escape the misery.
Even so, as one or two of his comrades held onto his limp body — he couldn’t tell who or how many, thanks to his blind eye — he did nothing but cough up blood.
“If I died today, I wouldn’t mind. Not if I get to see you again. I promised you that I’d always keep fighting — that’s what I said, right? I wish I didn’t make that promise, because I’m tired. I’m tired. I’m tired . . .”
As Levi rode on the back of Falco’s winged titan form, he realized something.
The pain in his leg was nothing compared to the agonizing heartache he felt every second of every day since he watched you die.
He hated himself for falling in love.
He hated himself for not being strong enough to save you.
Being known as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier felt like an utter joke. Like he was being mocked.
It was all he could think about as he looked down at the kids — no, they were adults now — fighting titans on Eren’s skeleton-like form, desperately attempting to stop the rumbling.
It was like he raised them. You both did.
But you didn’t get a chance to see them grow.
If you were still around, you would have known that Connie did indeed get taller. You won that bet. Levi owed you a new tea set, as he thought that the hilarious kid would stay the same height forever.
You didn’t witness Armin start to come out of his shell a bit, either. He was the commander now, could you believe that?
The shy kid who you thought of as a son — who followed you around like a lost puppy during his early days as a scout — was now Levi’s boss. And the colossal titan. How silly.
Jean had turned out to be a great leader as well, fighting for humanity instead of for himself. You would have been proud.
He only grew out his hair because you weren’t around to help him trim it. He could do it on his own, but he didn’t want to. Not without you.
Mikasa was exceptional then, and she was exceptional now. You were the only person she trusted to wash her scarf whenever she was too busy to get around to it.
Reiner and Annie were fighting too.
Everyone was fighting. All to stop the rumbling.
Even if it meant killing Eren.
“Could you do it, Y/N? Could you have helped us take Eren’s life?” Levi wondered.
You wouldn’t have supported the rumbling. That was a fact. Even so, you adored that kid, almost as if you were possessed by Carla’s ghost.
And he adored you too.
Your death was one of the horrific events that pushed Eren to this unspeakable point.
Both Eren and Levi witnessed it.
A titan snacking on your body as if you weren’t a person, but grapes at a picnic. Both of them were too weak to stop it.
They could only watch. Watch as you were eaten alive.
When the fight ended, your face was among the many ghosts staring at Levi. His old comrades were all satisfied. He didn’t have to fight anymore. He could just live.
But he couldn’t rest.
That came later. It came when Levi was an old man, sitting alone in his wheelchair at his favorite place in Marley to stare out at the glistening water with his one decent eye.
Old age claimed his life as the sun started to set, its beautiful orange rays shining over the water.
And you were waiting for him. You and all of his old comrades.
He pushed himself right out of his wheelchair. He could walk again. He could see again. He was young again.
His wrinkly skin melted away. His gray hair was once again black. His scars no longer existed.
Slowly, he walked towards you, the love of his life. The person he never got a chance to grow old with. Start a family with. Experience peace with.
When he wrapped his arms around you, holding you after so many years of trying and failing to remember what it felt like to touch you, he knew that he could finally rest.
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underoossss · 9 months
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Head over Heels - S.H
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masterlist
pairing: steve harrington x grumpy!f!reader
summary: Steve falls for Robin’s grumpy friend, and he falls hard.
warnings: family problems mention, trust issues, angst, hurt/comfort, no spoilers, (there’s fluff I promise!!!)
grumpy x sunshine trope
an: I know this is the first Steve fic I’ve posted IN FOREVER and I’m sorry! my writer’s block, personal problems, work and health, have all contributed to how long it took me to finish this. But I promise to make it worth your while, this is the same length as babe baby beautiful and I hope it makes you happy. I dedicate this to all my grumpy beloveds out there, who, like me. don’t relate 100% to the sunshine tropes bc sometimes life just freaking sucks. I poured my heart out with this one so, I hope this comforts you and that you like it! Please let me know. 💘
——-
The September breeze pushes Steve’s hair back as he makes his way to the Hawkin’s start-of-autumn fair, a new thing the town is trying out to make the citizens feel more upbeat after all the incidents they’ve experienced. His friends trail after him, Mike and Lucas arguing over something he doesn’t understand, Max listening to Dusting complain about some prank the soccer team played on the Hellfire Club and Robin walking by his side. Everyone shouts food orders over their shoulder, running towards the picnic tables in search for an empty one, and leaving Steve and Robin alone.
His friend is rambling by his side, and Steve nods along to what she’s telling him. She has a new friend this year, met her at homeroom when she was introduced as a new student. A senior like Robin, she got along with her just fine. I talk a lot and she doesn’t, it’s a good fit, I think she really needed a friend that day, Robin says, and now she’s friends with all of us. Steve hums in understanding, switching schools in senior year sounds awful, and he wonders why you chose to do that. He wouldn’t, unless it was for something serious.
“Anyway here she comes!” Robin says excitedly, waving you over. “I can’t believe she actually came, she’s not comfortable with strangers and she doesn’t know you. I thought she’d sit this one out.”
Steve follows Robin’s line of sight and spots you walking towards them in the distance. Baby blue sweater, light washed jeans and black high-top converse, make you stand out from the orange foliage around you. Your face is serious as you get closer, only breaking into a small smile when you wave at Robin and accept her hug. When you step back your face morphs back to neutrality, a slight furrow to your brow as you hide your hands in your back pockets.
Robin says your name and motions towards Steve. “This is Steve, the friend I told you about.” She explains, “He’s our chauffeur, monster-fighter and designated babysitter.”
Steve furrows his brows and looks sideways at Robin before he looks at you and grins. “Hi, nice to meet you.” He offers his hand and you give it one quick shake before pulling back and looking away. Steve wasn’t expecting that reaction, but he guesses what Robin said is true, you don’t like strangers.
“We’re going to get Apple fritters! They have massive ones here and they serve them with big scoops of ice cream.” Robin tells you, glancing down the line as it moves. There are only three people left to order, so the three of you step into line. “Let me check if they’re still doing the ice cream on top.”
With that, Steve is left to wait next to you until Robin is back. You shift from one leg to another, almost nervously and Steve glances at you. Your eyes meet his and then look away, not scared or nervous, just looking away like you can’t be bothered to make conversation with him. Is he intimidating? Steve asks himself or are you just a massive buzzkill that can’t even comment on the weather.
Steve tries again, scratching his cheek. “So, uh, you’re in senior year like Robin?”
You nod, looking down at your feet before looking at him. “Yeah, we have a lot of classes together. I know the guys over there as well.” Your hand lifts to point at Eddie, who’s just arrived at the table, and the kids talking around him.
Huh, so you do speak, Steve notes, but only when prompted. “Cool.” He nods, looking at your face and noticing the way you look away immediately. “So why did you move to Hawkins all of a sudden? I mean senior year, that’s gotta be rough.”
You press your lips together, looking uncomfortable by the question. Steve has the faint idea that he asked the wrong thing. “I should go say hi to everyone.” You say after an awkward cough. “If there’s ice cream can you tell Robin I’m good with cookie dough?”
Steve wordlessly takes the 5 bucks you hand him and sees you rush away from him. In the distance he can see everyone’s faces light up when they spot you, beckoning you over with excited waves, and your reluctant barely there smile as you greet them and sit down. Steve doesn’t get it; he is half mortified and half confused when Robin comes back. How is it that everyone is your friend when you’re so closed off and Steve doesn’t want to say it but… grumpy.
“Are you sure your friend wants to be here?” Steve asks Robin, looking over at you again. You’re sitting with your elbows leaning on the table, listening to everyone talk around you, neutral expression on your face. Bored, even.
“Of course, she does.” Robin is quick to say. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, she doesn’t look too thrilled to be talking to you.” Steve shrugs.
“You clearly don’t know her.” Robin shakes her head. “What did you do?”
“I only asked her about her move to Hawkins.” Steve holds his hands up defensively, then adds. “She said she likes cookie dough ice cream.”  
They pause their conversation to order the fritters and pay, then continue talking while they wait.
“Okay, you shouldn’t have asked that. First of all.” Robin rolls her eyes, “Second of all, she’s friends with all of us.”
Steve huffs in disbelief. “Oh so she likes you? That’s her I like you face.”
“She adores us, you… not really but that’s cause she doesn’t know you.” Robin nods with certainty, then worries her bottom lip. “The move question is just tricky for her.”
Steve moves to say something when their order is called, and she go back to the booth to take the trays laid out in front of them. There are eight apple fritters with ice cream they have to juggle back to the table but manage to fit in their hands and arms.
“Look Steve.” Robin says seriously, lowering her voice after a sigh.” She slows her pace, so they take longer to get back to the table. “She has been through a rough time; I won’t tell you what because it took her a long time to trust me enough to open up.”
“Okay…” Steve nods, going over her words and feeling a soft pang of guilt. He wouldn’t have judged you so harshly if he knew you were struggling with something. He wouldn’t have asked you about you changing towns. “You could’ve told me that before I messed up earlier. Before I was bitchy too.”
“You’re always bitchy.” Robin huffs, then hums when she looks at you sitting in the distance. “She’s wonderful Steve, in her own way, so don’t judge her by the way she presents herself. When she trusts you, you’ll see what I‘m talking about.” She gives him a pointed look.  
Robin’s words echo in his head as they reach the picnic table and hand over the food to their friends. Steve places yours in front of you with a nod to which you say thank you. Now that he knows a little more about you, Steve guesses you were both left with a bad first impression. They aren’t his forte, and it’s not his fault you weren’t the same person with him as you are with Robin. You don’t know each other, of course it was going to be awkward. Steve sees what Robin means as everyone chats and eats; he sees it in the way your eyes soften, and lips smile slightly when Max begins to tell you something. He sees it in the way you lean closer to the redhead and whisper something that has her laughing soon after; you smile as well before turning your attention back to the group. Dustin and Eddie are planning some sort of revenge on the jocks from the soccer team who messed up something in their Hellfire Room.
Steve tries to focus on what they’re saying but he’s too busy looking at you, trying to figure you out. What happened? What’s the thing that you told Robin that made you keep the gentleness you showed to Max tucked away? You feel him looking at you and meet his eyes, it’s a distrustful glance from the way you narrow your eyes at him. Okay, Steve probably stared at you too long. He looks away and hears you sigh before you do too, tuning back into the conversation between the Hellfire club sitting at the other end of the picnic table.
“That’s a horrible plan.” You say plainly, making Max snort and Eddie pause the conversation. The metalhead rolls his eyes –no annoyance, no malice in sight. Steve supposes Eddie knows you like Robin does.
“Why is that, buttercup?” Eddie asks.
“They’ll know it was you, and they’ll beat you up, Munson.” You tell him seriously with an eye roll of your own –Steve doesn’t need to know you to catch the concern in your tone. “Put some laxatives in their protein powders instead.”
Steve lets out a bark of laughter that startles the table; that would be a good prank if he’s being honest. Everyone turns to look at him, including you and Steve clears his throat. “It’s a good idea.” He mumbles rubbing his chin, then meets your eyes briefly to find something like amusement in them.
“No, no, no.” Dustin shakes his head. “It is an objectively good plan, there’s no way they’ll know it’s us.”
“Yeah, we’ll wait for them to leave and then sneak into the locker room.” Eddie adds. “We’ll seal their lockers shut, they can’t change into their gear the next day and their coach yells their ears off.”
“The perfect plan.” Dustin says proudly and looks around the take to see who agrees.
“You sure they won’t be able to trace the prank back to you? See it as immediate revenge for what they did?” Max asks nodding towards you, “She’s right.”
“We’re absolutely sure.” Eddie confirms with a nod, clapping his hands in front of him.
“Can I read the eulogy at your funeral then?” You ask Eddie and Dustin with fake enthusiasm. “I call dibs.”
Steve chuckles and next to him, Robin fakes discontent as she rolls her eyes. “Damn, I wanted to do it.”
You send a smile her way before you clear your throat. “Eddie and Dustin died as they lived.” Your words are solemn as you speak. “With bad plans and too much confidence that they’ll work.”
“They always work.” Eddie says, chuckling at your words with everyone else. You simply raise one eyebrow at him, which Steve must admit is hot, and Eddie shakes his head. “I guess they sort of work.”
“So, laxatives?” Dustin asks Eddie after a minute, a defeated hunch to his shoulders.
“Laxatives.” Eddie and the rest of Hellfire repeats before the table bursts into laughter– including Steve.
His eyes don’t leave you though. You’re not laughing like everyone else but there’s a small smile on your face. It is reserved but softens your face in the loveliest way. It shows him you are enjoying their company despite the otherwise inexpressive look on your face. Steve begins to wonder then… if he wins your trust, the one you have with Robin and Max, will you smile at him the same way you do with them? Bright and beautiful enough to blind him? He guesses it would be worth a shot, getting to know you more, because if he’s being honest, he’s intrigued.
--------
The next time Steve sees you it’s at a party. It’s mid-October and the cold weather turns it up a notch with the cold bite to the air. He wouldn’t have gone to the party in the first place, if he’s being honest, but Robin forced him to go. Everyone will be there she’d said but Steve didn’t know who everyone would be. Only when he arrived at Kevin Rotner’s house did he begin to recognize some familiar faces. Nancy, Johnathan, and Eddie arrive at the same time he does and the five of them walk up the driveway and the small path leading to the front porch. There’s loud chatter inside and a boombox playing to the loudest volume in the dinning room. There are people sitting in the staircase laughing at a joke and more loud conversation coming from the backyard. He navigates the house with his friends until Robin spots you in the kitchen, and Steve doesn’t know why he’s so nervous when he sees you. You greet Robin with a hug and shrug when she tells you something, he can hear. Your face is pretty and serious as you look over Robin’s shoulder, spotting everyone else coming to say hi. Steve sees you take a deep breath before you greet everyone — almost as if you’re preparing yourself for small talk and hugs. He greets you last, more open and approachable than last time, and he’s surprised when you wave. “Hi, Steve.”
Something inside Steve jumps, but he thinks it’s only his own surprise. He’s about to say something, when Robin and Nancy take your hand and drag you away with the promise of some new gossip, they have to tell you.
Steve talks to a few people here and there; mostly the ones he’s kept in touch with after high school. Other than that, he doesn’t know anyone else; he doesn’t know if it’s cause he’s grown up but he’s not really having fun. There are people jumping into the pool despite the weather while those who mind the cold have gathered inside the house. Steve’s mostly avoiding the crowds, where the air is too hot despite winter being near, while keeping an eye out for his friends. Nancy and Jonathan are talking to some people he doesn’t know in the kitchen, Robin is trying not to combust while she talks to her crush —her lab partner in biology— and Eddie is walking around the entire party with his lunchbox.
When Steve sees you again, you are people watching in the living room, eyes trained on a few people in the middle of the room. He moves to stand next to you, and you shift your gaze towards him but say nothing; Steve thinks it means it’s okay if you stand here. Your foot taps to the music –Tears for Fears’ Head Over Heels –and your head moves almost imperceptibly to the music. The two of you are quiet for a while, and it’s not awkward like Steve expected it to be, not after the way he messed up at the fair. He’s pleasantly surprised, and relaxes a bit more next to you, slouching slightly against the wall. One of your arms is crossed over your chest while your other elbow rests on it, a red cup in your hand. The music continues to play and your eyes are still trained on the people talking in the living room, they’re some old Hawkins High students Steve kind of recognizes. There’s Angela and Karen, Bradley and Peter and some other people he doesn’t know the names of. Steve leans his weigh on his right leg, which brings him closer to you.
You don’t move away, simply pass him your red cup. Steve moves to shake his head no and say he’s driving, but you speak up before he does. “It’s only soda.” You say and nod at the cup that Steve takes the cup from you shortly after.
“What’re you watching?” Steve asks.
“The only interesting thing that’s going to happen in this party I think.” You look at him finally and lean closer, Steve isn’t sure you’re aware of it. “I think there’s going to be a fight.”
Your eyes hold amusement in them, like you’re excited for what’s about to happen. The tiniest movement of your mouth has Steve glancing down, you’re grinning, barely; he thinks it’s cute.
Steve’s eyebrows raise, interest spiked, and is about to say something when you turn your head again. Bradley is saying something to Angela, his voice loud and slurred but incomprehensible over the music, and not a second later an equally intoxicated Peter swings a punch at him. Another girl, who Steve doesn’t know, confronts Angela they start arguing with Karen joining the fight. Bradley and Peter fall to the ground, wrestling each other while others try to break the fight.
“Wait isn’t she?” Steve’s mind catches up the everything that happened puts two and two together. He’s pretty Angela is dating Bradley, not Peter.
“Yup.” You say with a shrug, tilting your head. “It was all a matter of time before it happened.” It’s all you say, then chuckle. Steve does too, he can’t help himself at the sound of your own laughter, until the two of you are giggling at the fight in front of you.
The music changes then, to something more upbeat, and Steve’s mind can only think about asking you to dance. Would you say yes? Probably not. Before he can ask you though, you step away from the wall. More people have gathered in the living room to watch the fight, and you decide to make your way to the front door. Do crowds bother you? Steve wonders.
“Wait.” Steve goes after you and closes the door behind him. “Where are you going?”
“Home.” Your back is turned to him. The cream-coloured sweater you wear over your lilac skirt and your black boots look lovely on you, and so does your hair. Steve doesn’t know why but he thinks it frames your face perfectly. There’s also a hint of remaining lip-gloss on your lips that shines with the streetlamp’s light… and Steve, well Steve thinks You’re so pretty.
“It’s cold, don’t tell me you’re going to walk.” Steve speaks again, shaking away his previous thoughts.
You shrug, “I usually do, it’s not too far.”
Steve doesn’t know where you live but he knows Rotner lives far away from almost everyone in Hawkins. Your house is probably far away. “I’ll drive you.”  Steve offers, but you sigh and look away.
“Go back to the party Steve, you can drive Robin home.” You say simply. “I’ll see you around.”
“No, she can go with Nancy.” He follows you until he’s walking next to you. “It’s not safe for you to walk home, come on.”
You sigh again and look up at the sky, annoyed. If you’re annoyed, then he’s too, because you’re making a dumb decision for the sake of being stubborn. And you probably don’t know that he’s stubborn too, so you might have to argue all night about whether this decision is right or not. Why is it so hard for you to accept a ride home? You offered him soda and were talking to him just now; it was nice. More than nice.
“I won't stop asking.” Steve says, crossing his arms and stepping in front of you.
Your eyes meet his in an intense half-glare, and Steve can’t help but think how nice your eyeliner looks on you. It does something to him he hasn’t felt in a while. He feels like he can’t breathe while heat creeps up the back of his neck —it’s October, he shouldn’t feel hot at all. A moment later you roll your eyes, though backing down first, and giving Steve some time to breathe as you turn around.
“Alright.”
Steve can’t help smiling in triumph, knowing he just won, and follows you as you walk towards his car further down the road. Amusement paints his eyes as he looks at you; your lips are pursed, and a huff escapes you.
 “You’re pouting” Steve says, looking at your lips and the annoyed look on your face. It makes him smile. You’re pouting.
“I’m not” You look sideways at him.  
“Oh, you are.”
“Shut up, Harrington.” You say and he laughs, opening the passenger’s door for you.
-------
From then on Steve does his best to increase his charm and be a gentleman. He offers you his help as well as rides home whenever he can, especially when you’re alone. The last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s only being nice when your common friends are around. Steve sees you more often now, not as much as he’d like, he must admit, but enough to know more about you. What you’re okay with sharing, more like.  
As he suspected from the party, you don’t like crowds (they make you nervous), and when Steve asked why you’d changed the topic. You work at the Deli on Main Street, have a younger brother named Chris, and you love coffee. He always sees you drinking one in the morning when he gives both you and Robin a ride to school, and whenever he stops by at the deli for lunch during your shift. Most important of all, Steve is starting to see what Robin meant when she said not to judge a book based on its cover. Because, despite your grumpy exterior, there’s a whole personality hidden underneath.
Steve can tell. There are hints and pieces; from the way you dress, to the music you like, and comic books you read and often exchange with Max. When he takes the time to look, he sees the gentleness with which you do things, and the care with which you treat your friends. He also sees your distrust for what it is: fear. You’re afraid, to let new people in, to get hurt, and Steve doesn’t know why.  
He wishes there was something he could do to fix it, to make you see the glass half full instead of half empty, or to change your sporadic pessimism.  But then he figures, he would be changing you, and that’s not something he wants. If he’s being honest, your friend group (Steve isn’t sure if he’s your friend, officially at least) needed someone with an objective outlook on life to set their heads straight. And if he’s honest with himself, he likes all the things that make you you. He likes your confidence when you don’t care what people think about you. He likes it when you fight with Robin over who chooses the music, despite it being his car. And he's pretty much obsessed with your face; the hard set of your jaw when you get impatient, the brow you silently arch that makes him feel things he shouldn’t, and the silent way you listen to conversation, only speaking up when you think it’s necessary. Steve is more than a bit obsessed.
He had been wrong that first day. He didn’t know you and wrongly assumed you weren’t happy to be there with them, when you actually were. He reflects upon it now that he knows your facial expressions; your eyebrows had been relaxed, and your eyes didn’t have a hard edge to them. You had been at ease, only closing yourself off when Steve tried to dig into your move to Hawkins. He really started off with the wrong foot, but it all takes a turn on a Friday night.
You visit FV for a tape mid-afternoon, surprising Steve at work. The weather is more than chilly outside, and Steve notices right away how you have no jacket on, only a dark red sweater. He’d been doing some paperwork behind the counter when the bell over the door for his attention. It rewarded him with the sight of you walking in, looking around before your eyes settle on him.
“Hey, Steve.” You say voice light as you approach him and lean your elbows on the counter. “Do you have karate kid available? My brother is begging us to watch it again tomorrow.”
Steve doesn’t know why but he struggles to speak for a moment —it probably has to do with the fact that you look very pretty, and two, this interaction is so different from your first one he shortcircuits. After a long pause you raise a questioning eyebrow, “You okay?”
Steve clears his throat. “Yeah. Um, we have it, let me go get it.”
“Thank you.” You nod as he dashes away from the counter.
“Did you walk here?” Steve asks once he’s cleared his head and reaches the action movie aisle. He sees you shrug over the stands.
“I usually do, I don’t mind it.” You explain simply.
“You’re not wearing a jacket though.” Steve grabs Karate Kid and goes back to the counter. Why are you always out in the cold without a jacket? It’s a miracle you haven’t fallen sick, he thinks.
“I left school in a rush, I was gonna be late for work.” You shrug again, eyes visibly lighting up when you spot the movie. “Thank God. Chris would have been insufferable if someone beat me to it.”
Steve crouches down behind the counter and retrieves his own jacket —a grey bomber— before placing it on the counter in front of you. “Here.”
“Steve,” You tell him seriously, rolling your eyes. “I’m not taking your jacket.”
“Why not? You’re the one walking out in the cold, I only have to walk towards my car.” He dismisses your refusal with a wave of his hand.
“Hey!” Robin says, calling your name as she emerges from the back room. “Perfect timing, I was going to call you.”
“Here to rent karate kid.” You tell her, a small smile on your face.
“And choosing hypothermia over my jacket.”  Steve chimes in, sliding his jacket pointedly towards you.
“It’s not that cold Steve.” You roll your eyes at him again, “But I know you’ll annoy me until I say yes.”
Steve gives you a triumphant smile and you shake your head, Steve would even say it’s shyly, before you take the jacket and shrug it on. “The movie? Please.”
Robin speaks up while Steve rings you up. “We’re gonna hang out at Nancy’s tonight. The kids will be there too, you should come.”
Steve risks a glance at you, in his jacket; a huge mistake. He seriously underestimated his reaction to seeing you in his clothes, because it is downright adorable and something he was unprepared for. The sleeves go past your hands and the whole thing is oversized on you, his shoulders being broader than yours and his torso longer. Steve bites back a smile —he hopes you never give it back to him; this is a sight he’d love to see more often.  He turns back to the computer to hide his grin from you and silently hopes you’ll say yes.
“Will there be other people?” You ask Robin, and Steve is quick to shake his head no and reassure you. Too quick.
“Just the usual gang.” Steve tells you, clearing his throat to hide his eagerness. “No one else.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Robin insists with a smile, then moves her gaze towards Steve, who tries to ignore the way she raises a knowing eyebrow at him. He’s gonna have an earful once you leave, he can bet on it.  
“Okay, I’ll be there.” You nod, then exchange some cash for the movie Steve hands to you. “Thank you, Steve.”
Steve leans his forearms on the counter, trying to give you his most charming smile to see if he’ll get one of those you give Robin in return. “We’ll pick you up after work.” Steve says and you look into his eyes for a long second before nodding.
“Sure.” You shrug, eyes shifting away from his. “I’ll see you guys later.”
------
At Nancy’s, chaos ensues. The kids argue over what board-game to play while Eddie and Robin argue over what record to play next. Steve is listening to Nancy and Jonathan talk about a volunteering drive she’s organizing and from where he stands, he can see you leaning against the wall next to Robin. Your face is neutral as you listen to the record that’s currently playing, tuning out Eddie’s argument for the most part until you speak up.
“Or you can let me choose?” You ask calmly, glancing at them briefly before going back to looking down at your feet.
“No!” Both Eddie and Robin say at the same time, and Steve notices the corner of your mouth twitch upwards.
“You chose this one, buttercup.” Eddie says with a sigh. “You’re only gonna choose one to annoy us.”
This earns Eddie an eye roll. “How exactly do you know that?” You ask. “It could’ve been a great pick, now you’ll never know Munson.”
Steve tries to tune back into Nancy’s explanation when Max pushes the board game she wanted to play away with a huff. It clatters to the ground as she stands from her place in front of the coffee table. You spot her and call her name only a moment later.  
“Hey Max, I got the new Wonder Woman!” You say after a moment when the read-head stops glaring daggers at the boys. 
Her eyes light up, a dramatic change from the look in her eyes moments ago. “Really? Can I see it?”
“‘Course, I brought it for you.” You roll your eyes, this time full of fondness, and nod towards the kitchen. “It’s in my bag.”
 Steve can’t follow your conversation because the doorbell rings, signalling the pizza Nancy ordered arrived. The weather feels much colder than earlier as he opens the door and steps outside, he pays for the pizza, tips the delivery guy and goes back inside. Arms full of pizza boxes, he walks back to the dining table, shooting a pointed look at Dustin and Mike. “Zip it or you don’t get a single slice.”
The high schoolers move more discarded boardgames away from the table in a heartbeat, scrambling to undo their mess and opening the pizza boxes in a hurry. Steve spots you still standing in the kitchen talking to Max as everyone helps themselves to pizza and decides to let you both know the food is ready.
“So, you skate too?” Max is asking you excitedly, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter.
You chuckle — it hits Steve in the chest and Steve doesn’t know what to do with that. “I do,” You grin, “I mean I used to when I lived in Indianapolis, but I haven’t since I moved here.”
“We can go to the skate-park tomorrow.” Max proposes raising her eyebrows, “If you want.”
You nod, “Sure. I’ll look for my skateboard tonight, let’s hope I still remember how to use it.”
“Pizza’s here.” Steve says, interrupting and smiling at you both. When your eyes meet his, your lips move to smile but in a matter of seconds you stop yourself.
It makes Steve furrow his brows and walk over to you as Max leaves to grab a slice. “You okay?” Steve asks, and your eyes meet his again briefly before they dart away as you sidestep him.
You make your way to the front door in a rush, this time though you do grab your jacket—his jacket— on the way. Just like he did the night of the party, Steve follows you, worried and confused at your reaction. Robin glances at him from the dining table, an unspoken question in her eyes but Steve can only shrug. He is certain he didn’t do anything wrong just now, but somehow, he messed up because you just fled from him.
“Stop.” Steve says after calling your name. “What happened?”
“Nothing, I just need some air. You should go back inside Steve.” Your back is to him, shoulders tense and close to your ears defensively.
“No,” He shakes his head. His lips go down into a frown briefly as he looks at your back. He voices the question he always asks himself when you shut him down. “Did I do something?”
“No.” You say when you turn, eyebrows meeting in the middle as you glare at him but Steve sees the way you struggle to hold it in place. After a second it falls, and your face just crumples to exhausted look. “I want to be alone.” You whisper.
 “You think a glare and a pout are intimidating enough to drive me away?” Steve shakes his head.
“I don’t pout.” You say, lips pursed and jaw tense. Pouting.
“You do and it’s not working.”  
You change tactics then, raising an eyebrow and staring him down like the night at the party but Steve shakes his head. “That’s not working either.”
“Why are you insisting so much on this!” You finally ask, raising your voice and crossing your arms in front of you. Your jaw clenches as you look away and Steve sees your eyes squeeze shut.
He runs a hand down his face and breathes out. “Whether you like it or not there are people who want to get to know you.”
“What, like you?” Your eyes cut a suspicious look Steve’s way and he can see your walls come back up right in front of him. A tear falls down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away, harshly. “Why?”
Steve throws his hands up in the air, exasperated but not raising his voice, “To be your friend! Just like Robin and Eddie are your friends.” His shoulders move up and down, trying to cover up how much he likes you and looks forward to your company. “Why are you so distrustful, is it something I did?”
“It’s not about you, Steve.” Your eyebrows meet in the middle again, and you look away from him, directing your gaze to the snow-covered lawn. “If… If it bothers you so much, why do you even want to be my friend? Because you’re wrong Steve. No one else does, and I’m more than fine with that.”
Steve shakes his head, knowing you’re lying to him and trying to convince yourself. His voice softens. “Because despite it, I like you, I think you’re… cool.”
“Cool?” The way you raise your eyebrows makes Steve chuckle.
Funny, caring, fucking beautiful, Steve wants to say but he just nods his head at your question.
“Yeah, and you’re interesting, and I… want to be your friend.” Steve’s hands settle on his hips as he shifts his weigh to one leg, looking down to the ground. Glancing at you briefly, he drops his voice to whisper your name. “Don’t leave. I’m not lying… that’s what worries you right?”
Steve assumes that’s where your distrust comes from; you told him it wasn’t something he did, then it must be that you’re scared to trust him. He’s known there are many feelings behind your hard exterior, one of them being fear. Steve doesn’t want you to fear him, and he wonders who broke your trust in the past. Silence settles between the two of you; you seem to be going over his words and Steve is giving you the time to do so. He’d wait an hour if necessary and reassure you a thousand times if it would mean you believe him. Steve panics when he sees you swallow hard and shift your eyes at the sky, the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry.
But you don’t cry. Instead, you take a deep breath and look into his eyes. There’s a vulnerability there that awakens an urge in Steve to hug you. “You promise?” Your voice is a whisper, but he hears you clear as day. You’ve never spoken so softly before, and Steve wishes it could have happened under other circumstances.
Steve looks into your eyes and nods with sincerity, hoping you can see he’s being completely honest with you. “Yes.”
“I do like you, Steve. You just scare me.” You look down at the ground for a moment and nod to yourself as Steve’s eyebrows shoot hop in surprise. A moment later, your eyes drift back to Steve and there are emotions dancing around in them he’s never seen before. “I’m sorry.”
Steve nods and something inside him tightens when you offer a small smile. It’s like something shifts between the two of you despite neither of you moving. In a matter of seconds, everything feels easy, natural, like the brief moment your shared at the party in October. Steve realizes it’s because you’ve let your guard down; you stand differently in front of him, more comfortable, less apprehensive. You scare me. “You wanna tell me why?”
You press your lips together and shake your head. “Another time, maybe?”
Steve tries to hold back a smile, but he can’t, it takes over his entire face. When he sees you shiver, he offers his hand. “Let’s go back inside, or I can drive you home if you want to leave.”
“I can stay a bit longer.” You say when you grab his hand –an electric shock goes up his arm. “I really want some pizza. But if they play Monopoly I’m definitely leaving.”
Steve’s laughter follows you as he leads the two of you back to the house.
--
The coffee cup Steve places in front of you at work the next Monday lands with a soft thud on the counter. It’s black coffee with some milk and sugar; the way Steve’s learned you take it every day. The sound and his presence make you look up at him over the top of your book, a doubtful eyebrow raised and a serious look on your face. Fuck your pretty, Steve thinks. Your eyes shift from the coffee to his face a couple of times before you close your book.
“What’s this?” You ask, leaning back on your seat and tilting your head.
Steve leans his elbows on the counter in front of you and tilts his head right back. “Considering you drink around 5 of these a day, one would think you’ll know what it is.”
“Ah, that’s where you’re mistaken. I actually drink 10.” You deadpan, looking at him with fake disappointment. “I thought you knew me, now that we’re friends and all.”
Steve laughs, looks down and shakes his head. When he looks at you again, there’s a half smile on your face. “Come on.” He says. “Let’s go grab some food.”
“I literally work at a deli, Steve.” You tell Steve seriously, motioning to your surroundings. “We’re surrounded by food.”
Steve copies what you just said with a roll of his eyes and smiles again. “I mean something else, babe. Come on.”
With a sigh you stand up from your seat and round the counter, leaving your apron behind. “You’re lucky I get a break in a couple of minutes.” You tell Steve before yelling over your shoulder. “Hank I’ll be back!”
Steve’s eyes light up and he considers his visit a triumph. He’s becoming surer and surer his feelings for you go beyond friendship and fondness and lean more towards: I want to hold your hand all the time, and cuddle you while we watch movies then forget about the movie and get lost on you. He wants to put his arm around your shoulder freely, have you lean your weigh against him and steal a kiss, probably more than one. No. It won’t ever happen so Steve shouldn’t even be thinking about it. He opens the passenger’s door to his car for you and smiles when you get in, your coffee in your hand.
It becomes a routine of sorts, either you visit him at Family Video bringing sandwiches for him and Robin or he picks you up, a coffee waiting for you in his car and drives you wherever feels right that day to eat your lunch. You talk about your day, or whatever gossip you heard that day. One day you even confessed to be scared about graduation.
“Everyone is so excited to finish school, and here I am so terrified about the future I haven’t opened any of my college application letters.” You muttered, picking at a loose thread on your sweater.
“Why are you scared?” Steve asked you and you swallow hard.
You turned your body on your seat, facing him as you shrugged. “I feel lost, I don’t know what I should major in. I also don’t know where I’d like to go, and I can't even research these colleges without panic settling on my chest.” Your eyebrows furrowed and your jaw got tense and Steve knew that meant you felt angry and this time it was at yourself.
Steve took your hand without a second thought, but you let him. “You know, you don’t have to figure it all out right now.”
“It feels like it.” You whispered looking at him, frustration and embarrassment shining in your eyes.  “Everyone else has it figured out.”
Steve shook his head; you shouldn’t feel embarrassed with him. “If there’s something I’ve learned about you, is that you don’t care about what other people are doing. What do you want?”
“I ask myself that question every day.” You mirrored his head shake and looked away. “Let’s talk about something else. Please?”
Steve was happy to change the subject, anything to cheer you up. By the time you go back to the Deli to continue your shift, he realized it was the first personal thing you’ve told him. Ever. It made him happier than he cared to admit.
-----
Two months after your talk in Nancy’s driveway, you invite Robin, Nancy, Eddie, Jonathan and Steve to your house. It’s the first time you’ve let anyone other than Robin into your home, this time for movie night. Your father and brother went back to Indianapolis to pick up other stuff from your old house, you said, it’s perfect timing. Steve and Robin arrive together, and shortly afterwards Eddie’s knocking on the door.
 Your house is cozy and simply decorated with a forest green comfy looking couch, a dark brown coffee table and a TV in the living room and all the basic stuff in both the dining room and kitchen.  There’s a record playing somewhere, and Steve can’t help the smile that comes to his face when he sees the way you’re mouthing the words as you move back and for the between the kitchen and living room bringing snacks, drinks and pizza for everyone. You’re wearing a cream-coloured sweater he recognizes from the party back in October and something funny happens in his stomach when he realizes just how far your friendship’s evolved since then.
“Babe come on take a break, we can help.” Steve stops you from going back to the kitchen with a hand on your shoulder and a fond look on his face.
You open your mouth to say something when Eddie and Robin appear on either side of you, presenting the movies they –surprisingly– were in charge to pick. “The best horror movies.” They say in unison.
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise as you take the three VHS tapes from them. “Oh. Um, great! Thank you.” Your reaction hides behind the grin you shoot both, who nod and disappear to the kitchen.
“You’re pouting.” Steve says stepping closer to you again in the living room; your eyes that were fixed on the VHS tapes drift upwards to meet his own. Steve smiles.
“I’m not pouting.” You tell him with a roll of your eyes, lips settling back into a pout as you scan the titles of the movies once more. “These are just scary.”
“You’re still pouting.” Steve whispers, like it’s a secret. His eyes drift down to your lips, a mistake that has him swallowing hard, before the doorbell rings, signalling Johnathan and Nancy arrived. He’s quick to turn and go let them in. It’s a perfectly timed distraction. He shouldn’t think about kissing you, because despite no matter how badly he wants to, you’d never let it happen, or feel the same way he does to let it happen.  “Just saying!”
Once the first movie plays, Eddie and Robin settle on one end of the couch, while Nancy and Johnathan sit on the floor in front of them. Steve shoots Robin a I know what you’re doing look before sitting next to her and feeling the couch dip under your weigh when you settle on the empty seat next to him. A sweet floral scent he now recognizes as your shampoo or your perfume reaches him and Steve actively decides to focus on the movie, not the way he wants to pull you over his lap and breathe you in. Eddie and Robin laugh every now and then and the four of you turn to look at them, there’s nothing funny about the movie. You begin covering your face with the bucket of popcorn as the movie progresses, your face grimacing as the suspenseful music picks up.
Steve leans closer to you, his voice a whisper as he speaks. “It’s just special effects don’t worry about it.” You turn to look at him, worried puppy dog eyes gazing into him and dammit you make it so hard to keep his distance. “Trust me.” Steve winks, lightening the mood only to jump and scream when he turns to the movie once more and a jump scare comes on.
It seems like the perfect medicine for your fear. For you forget about it and lean your head back laughing, a full-on belly laugh, that’s so contagious and beautiful Steve laughs with you. Nancy and Robin share a knowing look he doesn’t notice before they shush the two of you, shoving at his elbow and your knee. You cover your mouth with your hand and your shoulders shake as you lean your head on Steve’s shoulder, turning your body towards his; Steve’s never been so happy to be scared in his life.
Everyone leaves after 3 movies. Robin gets a ride with Eddie, and Nancy leaves with Jonathan as well. Steve though, stays behind insisting on helping you clean up, but it’s a weak excuse to check on you before he leaves. He noticed you getting nervous, fidgeting with your hands anxiously when everyone started to leave. The films were long done, so Steve knows something else is worrying you and it doesn’t sit well in his heart to leave you like this. Which is why he is currently picking up trash in the living room while you do the same in the kitchen.
You’re finishing placing the dirty dishes in the sink when Steve enters the room. He noticed right away the way your shoulders hunch and you take a deep breath. “Steve…”
“You okay?” Steve closes the trash bag and moves to the sink. His eyes roam your face as he looks sideways at you and washes his hands.
“I um… I wanted to apologize to you.” You tell him quietly, passing him a kitchen towel before moving away from the sink. “For how closed-off I was when you met me.”
After drying his hands quickly, Steve turns and leans on the edge of the sink. “It’s okay, it’s not easy to trust new people right away.” He reassures you –it’s something he understands now; he understands you.
You sit on the counter opposite to him and stare at the floor for a bit, polka dot sock clad feet dangling in the air. “It’s more than that. I’m just scared of getting close to people since…”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Steve shakes his head, keeping his eyes on your face.
“I trust you, Steve.”
Those four words make Steve’s chest flutter –relief, happiness, nerves– but he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind and patiently waits for you to continue. Your lips are pursed as you stare at the floor, gathering your thoughts.
“My mom…” You swallow, getting chocked up with those to words but soldiering on. With a shake of your head, you look up to the ceiling and will your tears away. “My mom left my dad, brother and I last April. She’d been cheating on dad for years… and that’s not even the worst part.”
You wipe your eyes quickly, lips pulled downwards into a deep frown when you pause again –an upside-down U Steve wishes he could smooth out with his thumb. But he stays where he stands and lets you continue.
“The other man was married too” Your eyes find Steve’s and where there’s usually a spark –like that night at the party– there’s only sadness directed at the memory. “He’s the father of a popular kid at my old high school, so you can guess what happened when everyone found out.”
Steve’s mouths opens again and this time a soft no escapes him.
You press your lips together and nod, “So not only did the news wreck our home… they made life at school unbearable for my brother and I. People who I thought were my friends just threw me away as if I was trash for something I didn’t do. Something I had no fault in.”
“Is that why you moved here?” Steve asks softly, walking closer to you. The answer to the question he asked many months ago, right in front of him and it doesn’t make him feel any satisfaction. No, it hurts him to know this. Moving away from everything you’ve known and starting over again during senior year sounds brutal.
“Yes.” You whisper and close your eyes briefly; more tears fall down your cheeks and Steve’s heart aches. Teary eyes move away from his and fix themselves on the kitchen window instead, your lips are pressed so hard against each other they’re losing colour. “She packed her bags right after school the day we found out. We saw her leave with that man, no other explanation, not even a goodbye or a note. Everyone except my dad and my brother decided to leave me that day.”
A sob escapes you then, finally breaking free and shaking your whole body; another one replaces it once it stops. Your hands move from the counter to your face, covering it as cries continue to escape you in succession. Steve wastes no time and walks to stand in front of you; he hates seeing you in so much pain. God, it must have hurt so much, just being left behind like that. His hands move to your hips and gently urge you to hop off the counter before he wraps you up in his arms. His shoulders shake with the force of your sobs as you cling to him.
“Stevie.” Your hands are bunched up in the back of his polo, holding onto him like a lifeline.
Steve can’t even relish the sound of your calling him Stevie so softly. He swallows hard as he witnesses the pain, you have felt inside of you for so long. “I’m so sorry.” He whispers.
“She left us, Steve. She just disappeared and left us grieving her despite her being alive.” You say between your tears, they soak the right side of his shirt, but Steve couldn’t care less, his arms just tighten around your waist. “She’d been pushing us away for years, treating us like garbage and now I can see it’s because we weren’t good enough for her anymore. She didn’t love any of us anymore. We… we didn’t make her happy.”
Your voice sounds hoarse from crying, and your hands tighten behind Steve’s back. When you bury your face in his chest, Steve hunches his shoulders and forms a cocoon to protect you from the past. His protective nature takes over as he holds you flush against him; his hand moves up and down your back firmly –you need to know he’s there, that he’s got you. Steve puts his cheek over your head and whispers his next words. “I’ve got you; you can cry as much as you need to, I’m not going anywhere.”
It takes a few minutes, but your sobs soon transform into soft sniffles even as you press yourself closer to him. Steve doesn’t want to upset you anymore, but he’s itching to comfort you and let you know what he wishes someone had told him years ago. “I know my own shit experience with my parents isn’t the same as what you went through.” He starts, taking a small step back so he can look at you.
His fingers take a gentle hold of your face until puffy and teary eyes meet his; Steve wipes away some stray tears. “But what your mom did to you doesn’t say anything about you alright? You’re more than good enough for anyone. If she didn’t see that, then she made the worst mistake of her life.”
You close your eyes at his words and look away, but Steve shakes his head and urges you to face him again with a whisper of your name. “You don’t have to prove your worth to anyone because your mother left. All of us see it, and we’re so lucky to have you here.”
Steve’s thumb catches more tears as your lips begins to tremble again. “I’m so fucking lucky that you trust me, and I understand why you didn’t at first, okay? I understand you.”
Your hands on his waist tighten again as your forehead drops to his right shoulder. “I didn’t used to be like this… I’m sorry that this is the me that you met.”
Steve shakes his head, sure that you feel it when he does, and pulls you flush to his chest again. Is this how you’ve felt since last summer? He wonders. Like this version of yourself is wrong or unlikable.
Sure, you’re not a smiley person, but that makes your rare smiles even more special –and they drive Steve crazy. You see the glass half-empty most times to protect yourself if things do indeed go to shit, but you also recognize genuine goodness. You don’t hesitate to encourage or celebrate everyone else’s happiness; he’s seen it firsthand, with the kids, with Robin and even himself. Steve doesn’t think he could ever get tired of your dark humour or that pretty pout that settles on your lips when you get annoyed, not to mention that making you laugh is his favorite thing in the world. Steve understands your anxiety and panic at your college decision, you don’t want another change; you don’t want to choose something you don’t like and face another disappointment again. Most of all, Steve finally understands your hesitance and the root of your gruff exterior, and he wouldn’t change a thing about it. He’s stupid in love with you; your grumpy and soft looks; your frowns and your smiles; your heart; and that tender way you’re holding onto him right now.
Steve places a kiss to the side of your head to keep himself from saying all of this out loud –it’s not the right time, not yet. Instead, he whispers above your ear, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”
For a moment, stillness surrounds the two of you in the kitchen and there’s no other sound but your quiet sniffles against Steve’s shirt again. Steve doesn’t mind, he’s happy to hold you for as long as you need, which ends up being five more minutes. You take a step back and look at him with those pretty eyes of yours; they’re teary and red-rimmed but lovely all the same.
“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips until your gaze drops to his shirt and embarrassment shines in your eyes. “Sorry I cried all over you.”
“I don’t mind.” Steve shrugs and looks at you softly, hands still on your waist. “I think I know what we should do.”
You look at him curiously. “About what?”
“To cheer you up.”
The head shake you give him is immediate, just as he imagined. “I don’t–”
“You deserve a happy life.” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and sends a wink your way hoping to amuse you. “And I think, ice cream is a good way to start. I should know, I worked at an ice cream shop remember.”
He leaves your side and walks over to the freezer to grab the ice cream he saw earlier that night when he got up mid-movie to get more ice. It’s cookie dough ice cream, which he knows to be your favourite –he’s known since that first night he met you. Knowing he’s completely serious now, your eyes stare into his eyes for a moment before you turn and grab two spoons from a kitchen drawer.
“I guess we’re having ice cream then. Considering you’re an expert.” You say with an eye roll Steve can only describe as fond when you approach him again. A moment later, you sit on the counter and Steve follows suit, sitting next to you. “Spoon?”
“Thank you.” Steve says and takes it from you after opening the ice cream tub. He offers the tub to you first, letting you scoop some ice cream with your spoon which you pop in your mouth. Your arms brush from how close you’re sitting, and Steve has to lean forward to look at you, but he doesn’t mind. He’s happy with the proximity.
A sigh escapes you and you close your eyes as you savour the ice cream. Steve feels heat creep up the back of his neck at the sound, but he shakes the feeling off; you’re only eating ice cream, to make you feel better. “You were right Harrington, this is like medicine.”
“Told you, I’m an expert.” Steve chuckles and eats his own spoonful, the creamy ice cream melting in his tongue before he laughs as you search for the cookie dough in the tub. “This is going to be just plain vanilla ice cream if you keep doing that.”
“Finders keepers.” You tell him with a shrug as you bring the cookie dough to your mouth. “It’s arguably the best part of this ice cream.”
“You’re supposed to eat the ice cream with it!” Steve argues, holding the tub away from your reach. “I want cookie dough too you know.”
You roll your eyes at him, but there’s a soft look on your face as you look at him and nod. The two of you go back to eating ice cream in silence until Steve speaks up again. There are so many things he wants to know about you still –he thinks he’ll always want to know more. “What’s something you miss from living in Indianapolis?”
You pause mid-scoop and concentrate for a few moments going over his question. A moment later a tiny smile makes its way to your lips. “There used to be a wonderful campsite my dad used to take my brother and I; we’d camp for three days and do all sort of activities.”
Steve smiles. “Like what?”
“Dad and Chris love fishing, so we’d do that. There was also hiking, swimming, s’mores. Oh! We’d all tell each other stories sitting next to the fire. They were all completely made up of course, and I think the more ridiculous they were, the more fun we had.”
Your eyes wander around the kitchen, like you’re back in the forest with your family and not next to Steve anymore. Light dances in your eyes and Steve can almost picture the three of you laughing around the fire as the catch of the day roasts on a grill nearby. He knows better than to ask about your mother, he’s got a pretty good idea what the answer would be. Besides, you’ve cried enough already, so much that Steve’s own heart feels bruised from seeing you in pain.
“You haven’t camped here in Hawkins?” Steve asks after a minute, voice quiet to avoid disturbing your memory.
You shake your head and sigh, the mirage in front of you disappearing as your eyes drift back to Steve’s. “Dad’s not the same person he was during those camping trips… he hasn’t scouted a good place for us to go. I don’t think he even wants to go camping anymore.”
Steve puts the ice cream tub on the counter and takes your hand instead. “Maybe we could go camping someday, invite everyone, have fun…”
Your head moves to rest on his shoulder, the dizzying smell of your shampoo and perfume reaching Steve’s nose at the proximity. He leans his cheek on top of your head and feels the faint nod you give him. “Maybe.”
A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, your hand still in Steve’s grasp. Until he gives it a squeeze that makes you jump, as if you forgot you were holding hands in the first place. Steve chuckles. “What?”
Your head leaves his shoulder in an instant and for a second Steve is sure you’re going to hide behind your walls again, like you did so many months ago. His fear though, is replaced with concern when you hop off the counter and check the time with a frown.
“Babe come on, what’s going on?” He hops off the counter and stands in front of you. His eyes search yours until finally your gaze meets his, your embarrassment clear in them.
“I just hate being home alone at night. It makes me anxious.” Your hands fidget in front of you, as if you’re waiting for Steve to laugh at you. Oh, so that’s why you were nervous earlier. “I can’t sleep. At all.”
He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s midnight already. “I don’t mind staying over.” Bringing his eyes back to yours, he speaks up again. “Would that make you feel better?”
You close your eyes and let out a shaky exhale before you nod. “A lot better.” When your eyes open again, they’re full of gratefulness and surprise, as if Steve wouldn’t do anything for you.
 A smile grows on Steve’s face, and he takes your hand before you can thank him, threading your fingers together as he speaks. “Come on, you’re probably tired.”
Steve, however, is everything but tired. His heart is racing at the thought of spending the night here with you. You’ve never spent so much time together in a day, he’s never seen your bedroom, and there’s something about this impromptu sleepover that makes heat creep up the back of his neck. No. He’s here to give you emotional support; you were so anxious earlier and there’s nothing he wants more than to see you happy and comfortable. If staying here, despite it sending his feelings into a frenzy, is the key for you to rest then so be it. He can stay for one night.
You don’t let go of his hand as you lead him upstairs, passing various pictures of you and your family that hang from the wall opposite the handrail. There are three bedrooms upstairs and yours is the last one down the hall, its view towards the backyard. You open the door a moment later and let go of his hand as you step inside. Now that he’s here, Steve remembers neither of you made sure the doors were locked downstairs. He should do that.
“I’m going to take a shower.” You tell him as you walk towards your dresser.
Steve nods and swallows hard, using the excuse of your safety to be downstairs while that happens. “We forgot to lock everything downstairs. I’ll go do that.”
“Oh, right.” You press your palm to your forehead; Steve can see you reprimand yourself. “Thank you, Steve.”
“No problem.” Steve is quick to shake his head as he takes a step back from the room. “I’ll be right back.”
Once Steve is back downstairs, he makes sure to check the windows and lock the front door. He fiddles with the light switches for a while before he finds the right ones and turns the lights off. The whole process takes him less than five minutes, and the shower is still running when he’s back in your room. With a deep breath he finally looks around, gazing through a metaphorical window into your world, which he surprisingly already knew a lot of. The pastel walls make him smile, and he walks along the furthermost wall where various posters have been hung –all bands and singers Robin and you have played in his car. There’s a small vanity by the closet next to the bathroom, full of tiny bottles and a couple of lip-gloss tubes. Steve also spots a purple bottle of perfume on top, and a grin makes its way to his face –that’s the one that drives him crazy, he’s sure of it. He’s about to move closer and look at the pictures you’ve pasted in the vanity’s mirror, but he’s startled to a stop when you speak.
“I left a shirt for you to sleep in, if you want it.” You say and Steve turns around.
His heart summersaults when he sees you, fresh dewy face, hair out of your face, an oversized grey t-shirt with a pink Queen logo on the front and pink cotton sleeping pants. The overhead light of the bathroom makes a small rectangle in the carpeted floor, and some steam from your shower still circles around behind you. It takes all Steve’s self-control to stay where he is and not walk up to you and pull you into his arms; no tears between you this time, just Steve holding you the way he wishes he could all the time. He looks at the t-shirt you left on your bed to distract himself and laughs when he notices the colour.
“How’d you guess I love pink?” Steve asks you, glancing your way as he walks towards the bed and holds up the t-shirt. It’s very oversized like yours, and it has a black and fuchsia print of Blondie’s lead singer on it.
“Dunno, just thought it would suit you.” you chuckle, and Steve sees you hold back a smile as you point towards the bathroom. “There’s a spare toothbrush on the sink.”
Steve nods and hurries to the bathroom, lest you notice him blushing. He finds the toothbrush instantly and proceeds to brush his teeth, and though he doesn’t know why, Steve feels extremely happy to know both of you use the same toothpaste. He glances around and looks at all the details that are entirely yours around the room. There are some facial creams on a shelf next to the mirror, a vanilla scented hand soap on the sink, and a look towards the shower shows him two purple and pink shampoo and conditioner bottles –the ones that make your hair smell like flowers. Steve rinses his mouth, then takes off his sweater and jeans before he puts on the pink t-shirt you gave him and, like a freak, smells it to find that somehow your scent still lingers in the soft cotton.
If he was panicking before, he’s panicking even more now. He’s obsessed with you, he realizes, stupidly head over the heels and all of this is making it worse; lying on a bed next to you will make it so much worse. He’s got to pull himself together. He’s doing this because of fear of being home alone, that’s all. He can sleep alongside you for a night without making a fool of himself –or worse, accidentally confess his feelings. So, pushing all bed related thoughts to the back of his mind, he walks out of the bathroom to find you already under your duvet in bed.
 Not letting himself think too much about it, Steve turns off the lamp on your nightstand and slips under the duvet too. He keeps his body still, tense more accurately, as he lies next to you. That is until you turn to face him, and he immediately does too, like a magnet naturally attracted to you.
“Do you ever fear that you’ll wake up one day and everyone you know will be gone?” you whisper in the dark; your voice is almost silent, but Steve hears you loud and clear with how close he is to you. The minty smell of your toothpaste mingles with his own breath. Is this how things are going to be between you now, deep conversations and secrets you only trust to each other? He really hopes so.
Steve shakes his head, trying to make out your face in the dark as his heart constricts in his chest. “No,” he says just as quietly, “But sometimes I’m afraid that something terrible will happen and I won’t be able to help.”
Steve closes his eyes and exhales through his nose as he voices one of his fears for the first time. He’s sure that everything that happened in the Upside Down that they managed to fix was thanks to the brains in his friend group. Steve is all physical strength, which has proved useful in the past, but against monsters or whatever the hell could come next, he’s not sure it will be enough. The thought of being useless like that and everyone suffering because of it terrifies him. Even more now that you’re a part of said friend group. He’s sure of one thing though, he’d protect you and all his friends no matter what.
Your hand slowly moves to his shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “Knowing you, Steve, I’m a thousand percent sure you’d find a way to help. Your stubbornness can be a good thing.”
A breathy chuckle leaves him as your words punch the air out of him. He’s silent for a moment, scrambling for something reassuring to say back. Words aren’t his forte, not unless he’s flirting. He’d rather pull you close to him and comfort you that way, the way he did in the kitchen. “You know… if we were to disappear for whatever reason, you can bet I’d fight my way to you. You won’t be alone.”
Steve sees you nod your head in the dark, his only sign that you haven’t fallen asleep yet. Your hand goes back to your side, in front of his before you stifle a yawn. Assuming your eyes are tired from all their crying, Steve moves his hand to cup your cheek gently.
“Go to sleep, you need to rest.” He whispers; he wants to give you more comfort, pull you close and rub your back until you fall asleep. He doesn’t because he can’t, that would make things weird.
“Thank you for staying with me.” You whisper back.
Remaining silent to avoid saying something that’d give away just how deep his feelings for you run, or the fact that the opportunity to be lying here next to you is something he should be thankful for, he only rubs his thumb softly on your cheek once more before letting go. With another yawn you turn around, your back facing Steve as you whisper goodnight.
Steve doesn’t know when he falls asleep, but he knows he sleeps more peacefully than he has in a while. Not that he doesn’t sleep well often, but most days his dreamless sleep is a result of the exhaustion of the day and not peacefulness. Last night though, there were no nightmares, no tossing and turning, just a distant dream of a campfire in the woods, fireflies, and a silhouette standing peacefully by the water. At some point, early in the morning, he finds himself waking to the light sneaking into the room from a small gap in the tulle curtains. His eyes that were too sleepy to open, blink awake at the awareness that you’re in his arms. Lovely floral scent and cozy softness pressed to him.
It seems that during the night, you’d shifted to your side and burrowed yourself on his chest, an arm around his waist and leg thrown over his hip. His left arm is around you, settled between your shoulder blades, holding you to him. He lifts it and checks his watch, barely 6am but Steve knows he should go. The last thing he wants is your father getting back home and finding him in your bed. Steve doesn’t know him and that’s not the first impression he’s looking for. Besides, there’s a pressing problem in his briefs, that has appeared from being tangled up with you, that he needs to hide in his jeans before you notice. Shifting his hips way from you he looks down at your sleeping face, brushing hair away from your face before he whispers your name.
“Hmm,” You frown, eyes still closed. “What?”
“You’re a cuddler,” Steve says as he smiles; it’s something that should surprise him, but it doesn’t. Not at all.
“I’m not.” You mumble and, contradicting yourself, press closer to him.   
“Yes, you are.” He chuckles, shifting his hips backwards again. “I have to go.”
You frown but move away from him, turning and facing away. “Why?”
Steve slips from bed and puts his jeans back on, adjust himself, before pulling his sweater over his head and on top of the pink t-shirt. Call him a lovestruck fool, but he’s not giving it back. “I don’t know when your dad’s gonna be back, I don’t want him to find a boy he doesn’t know in your bed.”
You chuckle, then yawn as you shift and sit up in bed. Steve stares at you longer than he should. His eyes take in your messy hair and your still puffy eyes from all your crying the night before. He smiles widely.
“I have drool on my face, don’t I?” You sigh, moving the back of your hand to the corner of your mouth.
Steve laughs and shakes his head. “No, you don’t; you look pretty that’s all.”
His words reward him with an eyeroll and a headshake before you stand up. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”
You remain silent as the two of you walk side by side all the way down to the front door. Steve takes his car keys, and you move to open the door, but pause after a moment. Steve’s eyes look into yours as he wonders if there’s something wrong but when your eyes shift up to him, a small smile settles on your lips. Next thing Steve knows, your arms go around him in a hug.
He can’t help but sigh at the feeling and leaning his cheek on top of your head. “You okay?”
You nod and look up at him. “Thank you, Steve.” You say, stepping on the tip of your toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“Don’t thank me.” Steve smiles, letting his arms fall to his sides as his heart skips several beats. “Wanna get a coffee later?”
Is he bribing you with caffeine just to see you again? Of course, he is. Steve is charming, and he has a lot of work to do if he wants to make a move soon.
“Only if I get to pay.” You raise an eyebrow but smile nonetheless, that rare big smile he loves.
Steve huffs and opens the door. “Sure, babe.” He says though he knows you don’t believe him.
He walks to his car when you nod –heart pounding– and smiles as he drives away. Your figure on the rear-view mirror watches him leave until he turns at the end of the driveway. Steve leans his elbow on the door, his hand settling over his mouth as he thinks about the events of last night and this morning. Hope fills his chest, and Steve feels like this is the beginning of something really good for both of you.
 ---
There’s a small shift in your dynamic after that late night conversation in your kitchen. It’s like almost as if it brought you both closer: like a barrier breaking between you and Steve. Steve knows he should take it slow, that he should better conceal his feelings to avoid scaring you off. But another part of Steve wants to throw caution to the wind because there’s been a change in you too. I trust you, Steve, you’d said, and it shows. In the way you sit closer to him, how you give away more pieces of your past and yourself when you talk. There’s less apprehension and more curiosity from both of you and Steve can’t help but fall and fall and fall. He only hopes it doesn’t end up with him crashing down painfully.
The two of you make a new habit of visiting a small the café on the weekends; you sitting sideways on the couch and Steve talking nonsense to make you laugh. It starts the day after the sleepover, and the two of you use it as time to catch up on the events of the week. It delights him; every Saturday, he wants nothing more than to lean close and kiss your smile, the one he never thought he’d be at the receiving end of. You have bad days too, days in which Steve knows you’ve been crying, days where all you want to do is sit in silence with him. Steve doesn’t mind, at all, in fact he loves all your mood equally and now that he knows the backstory of what you went through, he offers you the quiet reassurance of his presence next to you, so you know you’re not alone.
Weeks pass like this, until winter leaves and spring comes. Overnight, the breeze has no bite to it anymore, the flowers bloom again and you begin to wear the prettiest floral dresses that give Steve a whole new reason to be obsessed with you.
“You two are adorable; when are you going to tell her, dingus?”
Steve and Robin had stopped by the Deli to get something to eat during their lunch break while you were on your lunch break too. The three of you had spent the 30 minutes talking between bites of your own sandwiches until the moment Steve had to drive away and you had to go back to your shift. He hears Robins words but his eyes follow your retreating figure until you’re out of sight –his mind is begging him to find you and steal a kiss just so he doesn’t go crazy. Robin snaps her fingers in front of his face and laughs when Steve startles. He rolls his eyes and gets in the car while Robin asks him the same question again.
Steve rolls his eyes again, “Tell her what?”
“That you’re obsessed with her dummy!” Robin hits his arm, Steve sends her an annoyed look, “You love her come on, you have to tell her.”
“No, I can’t.” He’s been thinking about it more often now. Keeping it to himself has been almost impossible lately and he knows he should do it before he breaks.
“Yes, you can, and you have to.” Robin asserts, setting her converse on the dashboard. “She clearly feels the same way.”
“She doesn’t.” Steve’s answer is instant as he focuses on the road and getting back to FV, his fingers gripping the steering wheel so hard they turn white. It’s a half-lie, and they both know it.
“She does and you know it.” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Robin shake her head.  “The way she looks at you Steve… it’s unbearable to watch, coming from her.”
Steve knows it, he’s seen that change. He’s felt the pitter patter of his heart, the way his hands shake when you look at him like that, like he’s all you want. But Steve is a coward in denial, he doesn’t want to assume wrong and send you running away from him. But if Robin’s seen it… “You really think so?” He says as he parks his car and Robin nods enthusiastically.
“Duh!”
He nods to himself, “Okay... I can tell her tonight. We are hanging out at my place anyway.”
“I’ll make myself scarce, just say the word and I’ll disappear.” When Steve nods Robin cheers, opening the passenger door and stepping outside. “Don’t mess it up, Steve.”
“I’ll try.” Steve grips the steering wheel, trying to calm himself down.
Steve doesn’t get a chance to though, for that afternoon with greying clouds in the sky you show up at Family Video as soon as your shift at the Deli ends. Steve is about to go to the back and finish some inventory he has procrastinated all week when he sees you pacing in front of his car, arms crossed over your chest. His heart soars, then fills with dread –somethings wrong. He knows it right away which is why he rounds the counter and rushes outside in a heartbeat.
“Babe, what’re you doing here?” Steve says as soon as he opens the door. “It’s gonna rain come on, let’s go inside.”
But you shake your head and look at him with a look he can’t name. It’s a sad look, and it makes Steve panic; he panics even more when he sees your eyes are teary and red-rimmed. “Did something happen? At work or at home?”
“I love you.” You say, at the same time thunder cracks in the distance. Your trembling lips press together when Steve’s move to smile, and your headshake makes Steve pause. “But I don’t think we should see each other again.”
“What?” Steve’s question is a whisper, almost lost to another booming thunder. “Why would you say that? Did I do something?”
“No, Steve.” You sigh, voice shaky, looking everywhere but his eyes. Steve knows this tell though; you don’t want to be caught in a lie. “We just don’t fit–”
“No.” He says simply, shaking his head as he interrupts you. This is that night in the Wheeler’s driveway all over again, you trying to shut everyone out. His hands still shake slightly though, at your confession, your words afterwards, at the idea of losing you.
“Steve it won’t work.” You tell him, it cracks halfway with feeling, and you swallow hard before repeating yourself. “It would never work.”
“Yes it will, it’s us.” Steve tells you, shaking his head. He remembers how far you’ve come, how close the two of you have gotten. He should’ve have known it would scare you, after what happened with your family. “Of course it will! It has worked for months.”
“It won’t! It won’t work regardless of our feelings. Because I’m me! And you’re you –you’ll get sick of me and then leave. And it’ll hurt more than anything I’ve ever experienced.” You tell him, shaking your head and looking at him with reddening eyes. Both your arms are crossed over your chest, as if you’re physically protecting your heart from feeling what if feels for him. I love you, you said. Around you, the sky begins to open, bathing both of you with big droplets of water. “I told you before, you scare me because I’ve never felt this way before.”
Steve tries to take a step closer, but you take a step back; it makes him groan in frustration. “You can’t make that decision for me! How can you think I’d just leave you?”
“Because the person who I thought never would, LEFT.” You yell, eyes brimming with tears that roll down your cheeks. They mix with the raindrops that fall on both of you and Steve’s heart aches.
“Then she didn’t love you enough, not the way you deserve.” Steve places his hands on his hips, looking at the wet concrete underneath his shoes. His eyebrows meet in the middle as he swallows hard. He can’t put into words how angry it makes him that someone hurt you so much, that you’re scared of being happy again. “I thought you trusted me.”
“I do.” You tell him, hands falling to your sides. Your voice is so quiet that the rain falling around you almost drowns it out. “You know I do.”
“Then let me love you!” You’re stunned into silence by Steve’s words, confessed loudly in an outburst as he brings his hands to his hair. He meets your eyes and feels his own tear up; he really doesn’t want to lose you. “Let me prove to you that I love you like crazy, baby. Because I do, you have no idea how much.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and Steve knows you can see all of his feelings reflected on his face. “I don’t want to be heartbroken again Steve! Can’t you see you’re sunshine, and I–”
“Don’t say that.” He whispers and steps closer to you, holding both of your hands. The way you cling to them sparks a fire in his heart, keeps his hope alive. “I told you I wouldn’t change a thing about you, that I’d fight my way to you.”
You try to let go of him, but Steve only pulls you closer even as you look away from him, lip trembling. “You know my issues, especially after what happened last year.”
“I do know them, and I’m telling you now that I don’t plan on ever letting you go. This isn’t just a fling, and you know it.” His hands go to your face, holding it gently and looking into your eyes. Those beautiful eyes he’s seen tear up, the ones that crinkle in the corners when you laugh and turn steely when you’re mad. He wants to look at them forever.
You close them, bracing yourself, as the sky continues to fall all around you. Big drops of water hitting your skin and soaking your clothes every second that passes. “Even if I have bad days, or get exasperated with you, or I’m a grump?”
Steve smiles and shakes his head. If only you knew. “I love it when you’re a grump, I want to kiss your pout so badly every time.”
“I don’t pout,” You roll your eyes, but Steve can see you’re trying to hide your fear. He’s learned every little detail about you to memory, this is you trying to build a wall. Well then, Steve knows how to break them down.
“I promise,” Steve says, like he did that November night you fought outside in the cold. His nose brushes against yours as tenderly as he can, rainwater sliding down between your faces –his breath catches on his throat. “I love everything about you, everything baby, trust me. It’s you and me, that won’t change.”
You nod, trust shining in your eyes as a teary smile makes its way to your face when you let it free. It knocks the air out of Steve’s lungs. “Stevie, I love you.”
 He leans his forehead against yours, happy beyond words and because he’s not good with them he says, “I really want to kiss you.”
“Then kiss me,” You urge him.
Steve leans down, holding your face in his hands and lingering close as he braces himself for this; this moment he’s wished for so many times. He smiles, and thinks finally, before leaning in and kissing you. A noise dies in the back of his throat, his chest feels full of helium and his mind reels at the everything he’s feeling. It’s even better than he dreamed it would be. Your lips soft against his, your hands in his hair, the sigh that escapes you when one of his arms wraps around your waist and presses you flush against him. His skin is buzzing, his fingertips are tingling. So he kisses you until you’re both dizzy, brushing his tongue against yours, matching your intensity head-on. Everything is intoxicating, the sweet scent of your perfume, the softness under his hands, the way your face feels like it’s on fire as his hand remains cupping your cheek. Steve is so in love he could faint, so he breathes you in as he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your neck and just below your ear until the two of you pull back. Soaked in rain, without a care in the world.
“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend?” You ask him softly, stepping impossibly closer to him.
Steve smiles proudly, heart soaring. “Yes it does, I’m yours.”
“I want to kiss you again.” You confess after a minute, blinking away that raindrops that have gathered in your eyelashes and smiling at him. “But I’m cold.”
 Steve laughs when you frown and pulls you closer to him. “Yeah, we should probably get out of the rain.”
----
thank you for reading! reblogs are really appreciated and so is any feedback 💖
(I also wrote this tiny insight to grumpy reader’s feelings here )
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julieloves074 · 8 months
Text
Everything (Conrad Fisher x Y/n)
Summary: Y/n had won the battle against cancer at the age of ten but no one expected it to come back. When the truth comes to light the perfect summer crashes down around them. Especially for Conrad, Y/n is his love, his life, his everything
Warnings: Cancer, sadness, swearing, angst 
Words: 7.4K
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(Not my GIF :))
Summer in Cousins was the one time of year I felt truly free, nothing really mattered there. Then again, everything mattered there. Belly liked to say nothing existed outside of summer, all the other seasons were just a pass by for it, and I couldn’t argue with her.
This was exactly why I wanted one last perfect summer. Mom told me that I wasn’t being fair, that this was going to be worse for everyone but wasn’t I allowed to be selfish? For once? I knew she couldn’t see it the way I did. I wanted Belly to have her first summer of real fun without having to worry about me. I wanted to see Jeremiah and Steven act stupid all summer without feeling like they needed to slow down for me. I wanted to see Conrad to be happy for one more summer, with me.
And everything was going so well, for the most part. Just like any other summer there was drama: Belly with her new friend Cam Cameron and Jeremiah, Steven with Taylor and Shaila but it was our kid problems, nothing more than that until tonight.
“Y/n you are not allowed to go!” My mother shouted as I made my way downstairs at eight o’clock.
“Stop babying me for God’s sake! I’m telling you I feel fine, I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” I screamed back, I just wanted to go to a party with my friends, I knew I had limits now and that I had to be careful. Still, I couldn’t stay locked in forever.
“Y/n you are getting weaker, are you trying to give your father and I a heart attack?” she asked, her voice still raised but there was a falter, it made me turn right around on my heel. There she was, standing on the top step with tears in her eyes. I could feel my own gloss over. I took a deep breath and looked up in an attempt to stop any tears falling, I was only wearing waterproof mascara but still-
“You’re our little girl and we just want to protect you,” Mom said, face flooded now, lowering to sit on the top stair, she was getting more tired now too.
“Mom I’m eighteen, I don’t know if I will make it through chemo this time and I can’t let it make me live in fear. I won’t let it make me hide around my room if this is my last summer,” I said with urgency and plea.
“It’s going to be a long program Y/n, and it’s going to take lots of strength, both physical and emotional but don’t you dare say you are not going to make it. You will beat it. We just don’t want you to get overwhelmed,” Dad’s voice echoed gently as he came out of our kitchen and pulled me into a hug.
“I know-” I paused looking between both of them, my cardigan in one hand and phone in my other, “I’ve signed up for the program and I will fight this cancer again but there’s nothing I can do now but wait around until the first round of chemo begins again, and who knows what I’ll be able to do after it?” I asked, I didn’t know whether I would live, and if I did how long I’d be weak, I didn’t want to miss out on these teenage years.
I felt dad brush his hand down my arm with a sigh, he looked up to mom who shook her head and couldn’t lift her gaze.
“I know, I’m sorry honey, but you know that if anything happens you call us right away, no matt-“ she began, standing up, but I cut her off.
“No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing and there will be no questions asked,” I finished off for her, she smiled weakly and started making her way down to dad and I.
“Or you call for medical help first depending on what’s happening,” she informed me, at this point she’s said this to me so many times that I have the words tattooed inside my brain.
“I love you guys,” I said as they both squeeze me tightly just before a car horn sounds outside.
“Tell Connie we said hi and ask him to tell his mom we’ll bring that extra table for the barbeque party tomorrow when we come over for dinner,” Mom relayed to me as I slipped on my shoes.
“I will do,” I said quickly opening the door to slide out. I saw him first, Conrad Fisher, sat behind the wheel, his contagious smile and beautifully messy hair. Then I saw them, Belly, Jeremiah and Steven sat in the back all looking at Belly’s phone who sat in the middle, they were all laughing. I couldn’t believe the summer was nearly at it’s end and I got to spend it these wonderful, and slightly annoying, people.
“Omg Y/n you have to see this video Tylor filmed! This girl just found out her boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend so both she and the best friend chucked milkshakes at him! I’m so glad Taylor filmed this!” Belly exclaimed the second I opened the car door, pushing from up from her seat and shoving the phone in my face, I didn’t even get time to look before she leaned back and sat down muttering “Damn, Harry is not gonna have fun at school this year,”.
We all broke into a laughter, I turned to Connie who had his eyes on me since the moment I got in the car, I started relaying my parent’s message about the chairs and he leant over to kiss me.
“Okay we get it, you guys are in love but we have a party to get to!” Jeremiah exclaimed grabbing on my headrest to lean his body forwards into our space. I let out a laugh pulling away from Conrad.
“I love you,” he mouthed to me, I did the same back before he turned to his focus to the car and reversing in my driveway. The journey to the house party, I didn’t even know who was hosting this one, was filled with laughter and teasing to the point that Belly had actual tears running down her face.
“I am so glad you made me invest into waterproof mascara Y/n!” Belly said running her fingers under her eyes wiping away the tears. I loved having Belly around, another girl was great to have around, her being like a little sister to me. Even though it came with both its ups and downs of siblings like all the clothes she would ‘borrow’ and never give back, but she’s a good kid.
The party is looking well underway when we arrive, there’s flashing, changing lights to be seen through the windows and the music is echoing down the street. Some new trending song is blasting as we walk through the door. Belly quickly runs off to meet some friends she made at the country club, Jere was dragged away by some good looking guy whom he looked more than friendly with leaving me, Connie and Steven to head to the drinks table.
“Are you actually gonna drink with us tonight Y/n/n?” Steven asked leaning a cup in my direction. I really wanted to, I couldn’t express to anyone how much I wanted to fully let loose, drink away my worries for the night. But I couldn’t.
“Nah I’m good,” I tried to play it off cool, but he started play arguing with me.
“Alright let it go Steven,” Con said after a minutes, I lay my hand on his arm in a silent thanks.
“Okay well I’ll leave you loser to it I’ve just spotted Shayla coming in,” he announced already walking backwards to the beautiful girl.
“Are you alright?” Con’s voice pulled me away from the vision of Steven wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he had whispered something in her ear which made her erupt into this blooming, true laugh, they made each other so happy.
“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, pulling on a big smile, it wasn’t exactly a lie. I felt fine, more than fine standing here with him right next to me.
“It’s just you’ve not been wanting to drink, and not to pin you as an alcoholic or anything,” he defends quickly, “But you’re usually first to call shots,” he laughs pulling me closer as some guys come to the drinks table, it still swells my heart, his little tics of jealously and protection.
“I told you, it’s been really bad for my skin recently and I am not sacrificing this,” I reassured pointing to my face, “Plus it’s kind of funny being sober and watching everyone else make fools of themselves,”
“Can’t argue that,” he says, we settle into a comfortable silence, Con wasn’t drinking tonight he was nominated DD, so the two of us had to entertain ourselves sober. We weren’t standing around for too long when Getaway Car by Taylor Swift came on and I dragged him to the little makeshift dance floor in the living room.
We sang to each other as he led our little dance twirling me around every once in a while. Loads of the girls including Belly joined us screaming along to the bridge.
“God you’re perfect you know that? I think I’ll be crazy about you forever,” Con half shouted over the last chorus and I just shook him off with a gentle shove
“I love you,” I said pulling him into a massive hug. The second the song ended we noticed Jere and Steven stood in the doorway calling Con over, some kid was doing flip tricks on the trampoline and in their words ‘It was so sick! He’ll probably actually be sick if he doesn’t take a break!’
Connie was hesitant to leave me for a second, but I pushed him to the boys, they deserved his time as much as I did. I turned to the girls, and we danced to whatever song came on next, and the next and the next. By the fourth or fifth song I started to feel lightheaded.
“I’m just gonna find a bathroom real quick,” I shouted over to Belly tapping her shoulder, someone had turned the music up. She nodded and gave me a thumbs up before tipping the rest of her vodka lemonade in her mouth.
The bathroom downstairs had too long of a cue so I headed for the stairs in the entryway. Was someone turning up the music again or was it just the sound echoing in my head? I held onto the railing, but my legs were starting to feel heavier with each step. I had just managed to reach the landing, I wasn’t sure which door led to the bathroom, so I ambled to the closest door, it was a bedroom. A double bed in the center surrounded by deep blue wallpaper. It felt as though I was in the ocean somewhere, drifting away.
The bed frame was not giving me much support, I lowered myself to the ground, there was a small thud as I hid the wooden panels. I don’t think I let out a sound but before I knew it someone was rushing into the room.
“Y/n what’s going on?” the voice asked, I looked up but my sight was hazy, “Y/n?” the voice repeated, it was Steven taking a few careful steps towards me.
“It’s nothing, I’m fine just a little tired, I think I overheated a little downstairs I should have been drinking more water,” I said attempting to shoo him away with my hands, but in reality, I didn’t want him to leave, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get up without him.
“Y/n you’ve been off all summer so cut the bullshit, since when do we lie to each other?” he asked coming closer, his honestly sounded sober.
“My,” I start and feel something bubbling within me, I cried for an hour when I was diagnosed again, then I told myself I wasn’t allowed to again until after summer, I was allowed to be happy and excited for the summer without thinking about- “My cancers back Steven, and I-”
“I’m sorry you what?” Steven asked cutting me off, as if an animated character his jaw actually dropped, he was kneeling next to me in seconds, pulling me into a hug. I shut my eyes wishing that I had left earlier or taken a night off and rested like mom had suggested, “Conrad! Get in here,” Steven shouted repeatedly brushing a hand through my hair.
“What? Y/n? What happened? Steven what happened?” Conrad asked manically flinging himself to meet his body to mine, “Are you okay?” He asked again as he got no answer to his first lot of questions. He brushed his hand down my arm.
“I’m so sorry,” I let out with a sob, shaking my head from side to side, I saw Belly run in confused with Jeremiah behind her. Others seemed to be crowding at the door but Jere quickly shut it firmly, announcing “Nothing to see here! Go grab some alcohol and make out or whatever,” before turning his attention back to me.
Now this was truly my worst nightmare, they were all looking at me, apart from Steven who had curled up and looked at the floor next to me.
“I’m sorry that I ruined our last summer together,” I said
“Y/n what are you talking about, what happened?” Belly asked brushing some hair out of my face.
“It’s back and I- I don’t think it’ll go away this time,” I whisper as if saying it out loud would mean that it was true, that I was hurting everyone around me once again.
“What’s back?” Jere asks nonchalantly at first before a realization hits him “You don’t mean-” at this Belly burst into a wail.
I looked up at Conrad, he was just staring at me, I couldn’t read his reaction at all. I brushed my hands up and down his arms, it was as if he was frozen it time. I needed him to say something, just that action was wearing me out.
“Come on let’s get you home,” Jere said, his eyes red, he was trying to be a voice of reason, be the one who doesn’t break down so he can support the rest of us. When had he become this grown up? “This isn’t a place for a conversation like this,”.
I can’t quite place what emotion was flowing through me as I was basically carried out of the house with one arm around Con the other around Steven. The whole thing seemed in slow motion to me, all the faces in the crowd of my friends and drunk strangers. How many of them realize what’s actually happening and how many of them simply thought I’d gotten hysterically drunk?
The ride back to my house was quiet other than Belly’s phone call to my mom and then Susannah and Laurel letting them know where they were all going. I was ushered into bed by mom and listened to the heartbroken whispers downstairs in the living room under my bedroom.
Mom and Belly were crying, and dad was trying to calm them down. Conrad was adamant to stay with me whilst dad offered to drive everyone else home as they’d all been drinking. When the front door shut, I heard the footsteps that shuffled upstairs.
“Connie,” I said as he walked into my room, his expression filled with sorrow and with the limited lighting of my bedside lamp I could swear he too had tears rolling from his eyes and down his beautiful face.
“You’re okay, you’re going to get better,” he said repeating in quiet whispers, whether he was trying to convince me or himself I was not sure but I let him. I pulled up my duvet and moved slightly to give him space.
He touched my hair, my face, my arms gliding his fingers as if I was made of porcelain. The first time I was diagnosed and fighting cancer I was 10 and whilst everyone was gentle with me then now it felt like a different kind of touch. A mixture of so much love and pain that I would do- give anything to make him better.
“I love you, so so much,” I whispered, pulling one of his arms around me, I wanted to feel him, all of him here in this house, our summer place. I was surprised he hadn’t run, when Con got overwhelmed he always ran, hiding was his protection. If I did anything in my life, helping Connie learn a better way to cope, or to start to was the best thing that I did.
“Don’t say it like that,” he whispered back, his eyes were closed tight shut.
“Like what?” I asked cautiously, somehow, I knew what he was going to say, I brushed my fingers through his soft hair, his pre-summer haircut was always my favorite. It wasn’t too long, not too short, just enough to outline his face and perfectly highlight his eyes.
“Like it’s one of the last times you’ll ever say it,” his voice cracked and I kept running my fingers through his locks, soothing him. It’s funny how I’m the one who this has happened to yet I’m the one who’s been reassuring everyone that everything happens for a reason. Maybe it was because I’d lived enough to know what the purest of happiness was and that I’d experienced honest love even though some never do.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I kept repeating as if I was counting stars up in the sky or the little sheep jumping over the fence in hopes of falling asleep. I’d said it so much my mouth had started running dry but if that was the price for having this boy, this kind, loving boy in my arms until my end I’d pay it over and over and more.
Unfortunately, the underlying sour mood was carried into the next morning, when I woke up to the glimpse of summer that danced in through the half open curtain Conrad was still asleep. He usually looked peaceful when he slept but this morning even in his most fragile states his brows were creased and his breathing was heavy and uneven. I watched him, when we get back to Boston nothing will ever be the same, and we only have a week left here in Cousins.
I untangled from his arms. I tended to have more strength in the morning but today I gripped onto the white wooden rail as I ambled downstairs and into the kitchen. Walking past the living room I noticed figures asleep on the couch. I smiled to myself when I saw Jeremiah and the Conklin siblings, they never left last night.
The clock hit seven when I walked into the kitchen, mom sat there with her kindle in hand, cup of coffee in front of her, but she stared unfocused at the device The lines under her eyes were darker than last night, she looked exhausted. Dad was at the kitchen counter prepping some eggs, bacon and sausages, the good old English Breakfast. He too looked as though he hadn’t slept.
“Morning sweetheart,” mom said looking up, her whole expression changed from worry to love, and though she tried to hide it the worry was still there, rooted deeply in her skin. I took a step towards her and she rushed out of her chair to grab me into a tight embrace.
A thousand things I wanted to say sat there pooling in my head because I simply couldn’t get them out.
“Your dad went out last night to get some more breakfast supplies, we’re feeding some unexpected- but most welcome mouths this morning,” she conveyed and I just nodded, my head resting in her neck, “I’ve called Princeton this morning and explained the situation, they said depending on how long the treatment is going to take they may move your enrollment to next year just so you don’t fall too far behind,” mom explained and I watched my dad’s feet shuffle towards us. College was the last thing on my mind, everyone here was.
“We also called the hospital and they’ve decided to start your sessions earlier,” dad said, this forced me to pull back.
“What do you mean?” I asked frantically, “We’ve had the date set for the day after we get back! How can I start my treatment earlier if we’ll still be here?” I questioned.
“We’ll be heading back to Boston tomorrow Y/n” mom conveyed, I took another step back. No! I needed this last week here with these people.
“But we agreed-” I tried to reason, to argue.
“I know sweetheart, but your health is more important to us, the doctors were already weary of letting you have the whole summer here anyway,” dad leaned against the kitchen counter with one hand and the other travelled to his forehead, an attempt to brush the physical signs of fear and worry away.
“We’re your parents Y/n, we just want what’s best,” mom reassured, and I knew they were right, they usually tended to be but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.
“The moms have organized a day full of fun and the celebratory barbeque dinner tonight,” Belly, who was now leaning against the doorframe between the living room and the kitchen, said.
“We’re all leaving tomorrow Y/n, we’re going to be there with you every step of the way,” Jeremiah said, his stunning ocean eyes expressing the purest admiration, his one hand was around Belly’s waist. A side of my mouth twisted up in a sly smile. I had predicted this years ago, Con owed me fifty bucks now.  
“Oh my- come here the both of you right now,” I demanded, I took a few steps towards them but they did most of the work.
“I want in too!” Steven, voice all groggy and half asleep, demanded as he jogged towards us. We stood there hugging for longer than we ever have, it was nice and warm.
We all sat around the table playing a round of uno as dad started to make breakfast, mom offered to help to give us the space, she knew we got far too competitive when it came to this game.
I had two cards left, the least out of all when Jeremiah spoke up from next to me, “Connie isn’t taking it well, he went outside at around three in the morning and he just sobbed, I thought you needed to know” his eyes with sympathetic and glossed over.
“I just don’t want him to shut everyone out now,” I said knowing that the boy had a thing for bottling up his emotions until they finally explode. He stayed last night but who knew which was his mood would sway today.
“He’s going to be around, he’ll be here for you, we all will,” Jeremiah reassured.
The day went by faster than anyone wanted, Conrad came down perfectly in time for breakfast, he pulled a chair to sit next to me. Just like his usual self he wanted to be near me, touching me at all times, whether it was his shoulder brushing mine, a hand on thigh or his head on my shoulder. After breakfast we when back to Susannah’s house and sat on their private stretch of beach. Then we competed in a murder mystery game that us kids created when we were twelve. It was actually pretty intriguing even for the moms and dad.
“I can’t believe you kept stored away for six years mom,” Jere said to which Susannah replied with a knowing motherly smile and pulled another clue card.
Then we went to the pier, had ice cream and I absolutely crushed everyone at the arcade games winning most of the challenges, the great showdown occurred yet again even though Laurel banned it all those years ago. Then we headed back for dinner at the beach house, Jere and Steven operated the grill, we all sat around talking and I managed enough energy to play a quick round of water polo in the newly upgraded heated pool.
Through the whole day Conrad was never more than a few feet away from me. He managed to upkeep a smile most of the time, but when he thought I couldn’t see it faltered. I always knew he was a good one.
At around eleven mom and dad headed back home whilst the rest of us cuddled up on the couches to watch some romcom on Netflix. About halfway through Belly decided she wanted popcorn, so we took a pause and Susannah said she wanted to brush my hair. She loved doing both mine and Belly’s hair, we were her honorary daughters so of course I let her. One of the many things I love about her is that no matter the weather, or what was going on she was a ray of sunshine. I don’t mean that she was always happy, but she always held out hope and guided everyone to the other side of any storm cloud.
After the movie had finished and we got a good hour into the titanic most of us were dozing off, Susannah started shooing everyone off to bed. She too went upstairs leaving Conrad and I sat on the sofa. I looked at him as soon as the whole floor was clear. My eyes asked the quiet question, begged the questions.
“Are you sure? Do you feel like you have enough strength?” he asked, and I smiled, my brain scanned through images of this boy as we grew up, side by side and through all of it he stayed true just like his mom.
“What have we been doing for the past four hours if not sitting and laying around?” I asked lifting my brows in a giggle.
He shook his head slightly and half a smirk managed to make it onto his face, “It’s been a long busy day, that’s all I’m saying,” he defended himself.
“I know, but I’m fine I promise, let’s go!” I encouraged lifting from the couch and pulling him up by his arm. It didn’t take much convincing, when he stood, he gave me a long, slow kiss before resting his arm around my shoulder. We fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle finally put together.
We walked down the sandy path towards their private part of the beach, nudging each other and giggling just like the night Conrad first kissed me, just like the night he had asked me to be his girlfriend. Most, if not all our important milestones happened here at the beach house.
“Do you know what?” He asked breaking the silence, even just the sound of his voice was enough to press my body and mind into total peace but also force my heart to beat at an ungodly speed, still after being together for two and a half years.
“What?”
“One day, the day we get married, I’ll scoop you up like this,” he pauses turning to me, I look at him confused for a second as he coddles me in his arms like a princess, I let out a giggle, “and I’ll carry you into this house,” he pointed to the summer house, “then I’ll carry you out back and all the way to the beach and kiss you until the sun goes down and the moon hangs up high in the sky like tonight and never let you go,” he whispered into my ear as we neared the beach.
“Connie,” I began but he shushed me
“I know, I know you don’t like planning that far ahead, but this is non-negotiable, you said we’re allowed one non-negotiable each. You have yours and I have mine,” he said in a manner of fact way, I just laughed and leaned up to kiss him.
“You do know, I know that was all a ruse so that I didn’t have to walk,” I said and he just smiled, “You’re amazing and I love you but please put me down,” I asked, not because I didn’t love to be treated like a princess but because I felt good and I wanted to experience this with him in the way it’s always meant to be.
When we got onto the open part of the beach it was much windier, Con took off his coat leaving him in his jumper and wrapped it around my arms. We listened to the song of the water and watched the waves.
“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he announced into the night, he’s sat half leaning on his legs.
“Why’s that?” I asked, there were so many things both of us had to be thankful for.
“That I met you, that I have you, that you chose me and let me hold and love you, I think I’m the luckiest man on the planet,” he says, his gaze drifting to the stars above us. Not a single cloud in the sky tonight.
“Do you know what I think is lucky?” I asked laying my head on his shoulder, my eyes getting tired now.
He finally turns to me and smiles, “What?”
“That we both live in Boston,” I said and he shook his head, clearly not what he was expecting. But it was true, our grandparents met at the Cousin’s country club years ago, our grandmothers were friends which then meant our moms were friends, they went to collage together, it was both of their dreams to live in Boston so they moved out there together not expecting to both live in that city for so long but I was so thankful they did because that meant that I got the Fisher boys and Susannah all year round.
It was around the time that we could see the first shades of yellow and orange of the sun that we decided to head back, his sheets were cold but his arms around me were more than enough to keep me warm in the breezy summer night.
The next day mom and dad came round for breakfast, it was a feast ranging from cereal and toast to pancakes with fresh fruits and muffins which Jere and Belly had gone for a morning run for. Just as fast as the breakfast had disappeared, we were all packing up and getting ready to leave.
As I watched the scenery leaving Cousins, I felt guilty that everyone was cutting their trip short, no matter how much they tried to reassure me that it was okay and that they didn’t mind. Still Laurel, Belly and Steven had agreed to say in Susannah’s house in Boston for the week which meant we still got to have that time together before everything went back into motion in September.
*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*
It was a week after the Conklin’s left that I was told I would be better off shaving off my hair now with it being earlier in the process in order to avoid more emotional highs later on which could affect the medication.
I’d agreed on the terms that Susannah would be the one to do it, together we supported and acted for a hair donation charity which turned hair into wigs for children with cancer, so that’s exactly where my hair was headed.
It was a Friday night, which is always Pizza night, whether ordered in or homemade, one week at our house one week at the Fisher’s. It was that night that I was going to shave all the hair off, the thought wasn’t as scary as I remember it being from the first time around, but I would miss it.
I sit with a towel around my shoulders looking at myself in the mirror of the master bathroom, the boys were both sat in there with my mom, Belly was facetiming us and Susannah stood behind me with the scissors, this was harder for her than for me.
Mom held my hand and dad stood in the doorway with a tight smile. Susannah had braided my hair into two braids and after a nervous laughter and whispering ‘I love you’ she cut the first one, the snip of the scissors was loud in my ears as she worked through the thick of one braid. A breath escaped my lips and quickly enough we were on the second braid. Now Conrad held onto my other hand, the corners of his eyes creasing. And then the other was gone too.
In a way it felt like a weight was lifted off me, I mean it literally had been, my head felt lighter, and I was left with uneven scraps all over my head.
“Hey I dig the short hair!” Jeremiah says hand extended to fist bump me, I  felt obliged saying, “Now we know I could steal your hairstyle and still be cooler than you,” I remarked and he pulled a smirk.
“Listen up Y/n/n at least my cut isn’t so uneven,” he laughs
“Well, mine’s about to be more smooth than yours, what you gonna do?” I play intimidated as mom placed my braids into the zip lock bag ready to be posted.
“Some little girl or boy is going to be really happy when they receive that hair you know that Y/n” Susannah said squeezing my shoulders after plugging in the razor. This time I closed my eyes and squeezed Connie’s hand tighter.
When half my head was done, I felt a bit of a breeze but I didn’t want to open my eyes yet, I’ve said many times that hair wasn’t a determining factor in my life but at the end of the day it was a part of me.
“All done,” Susannah said and I could hear a fragile smile in her words, I nodded with my own smile.
Then after a second the sound of the razor when off again and my eyes shot open, before I could stop it I saw Connie’s soft, brown hair falling from his head. He has run a strip right in the middle of his hair.
I leaped out of the stool. But it was too fast, everything around me started spinning slightly and my knees had gone weak. I grabbed the counter in front of me and both mom and Jeremiah leaned forward for support.
“I’m okay,” I say after a second, I closed my eyes and steadied myself, what was actually a matter of a minute felt like hours, but then I was stood again with another reminder: slow.
“Connie what were you thinking?” I asked incredulously and he was just shaking his head smiling, a glimpse of tears in his eyes.
“I’m in this with you, I told you I would be here every step of the way and I will,” he stood right in front of me, his deep blue eyes staring right into my soul, how had I been so lucky to have been granted the love of this boy and everyone else in this room. I pulled him into a tight embrace, retaining his warmth, his touch.
Jere jerked taking the turned off razor out of his brother’s hand and worked it through his own hair. This time everyone gasped, Jeremiah loved his hair.
“Never have I ever thought I’d see that happen. Jere, you obsess over your hair, you love it!” Belly expressed through the phone, now Steven was leaning over her shoulder.
“Yo- you lot are brave!” he exclaimed with laughter; this was how he processed grief. He made jokes and laughed because otherwise it was much too bare, I didn’t blame him, in fact I found it comforting.
“I love my hair but you mean much more Y/n” Jere announced turning back to me and I couldn’t help but let the tears roll down my face now, pulling Jere to join the hug. He will be exactly the one for Belly, he’ll treat her well. I was sure of it.
Now it was my turn to sit on the edge of the tub, Susannah’s arm around me as we watched both her boys get their heads shaved by my mom.
“Well now we’re all gonna look like weirdos every time we leave the house,” I laughed looking at dad.
“And we’re gonna look like some cult parents who forced their kids to shave their heads,” he added back laughing
“I mean we could shave yours too David,” Susannah added, “Then we’ll confuse the narrative,”
“Only if your hair is next,” he challenged and I squeezed Suze’s hand, I would never let anyone come near her beautiful, golden hair.
“I think we’ve shaved enough heads for one day,” mom announces pulling the razor momentarily from Jere’s head, “Remember we have that dinner reservation in like two hours and I’d like to get changed from these sweats and t-shirt,” she goes back to Jere’s hair but before she’s able to make any progress she turns back around again, “Actually that’s a lie I could live in this outfit for the rest of my life I’m just not sure the people at the restaurant would appreciate it,” she says and every in the room laughs.
*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*
The hospital room I’d been in for the past week and a half has become a familiar sight, considering that I’ve only left it to go to other similar looking rooms in the hospital. I look at the clock, its five in the afternoon, I must have fallen asleep again. The November chill was visible outside by the frost on the other side of the glass.
On the other side of the room behind the wall I hear mom talking to someone, dad has gone to work for the day, they’ve started switching days, so I can only guess it’s Susannah or the boys.
“It’s been getting worse,” her voice quivers and a part of me wishes I could mute her out, still be asleep. I know the truth, a part of me has known it since I found out the cancer came back those couple of weeks before we departed for Cousins that summer, I wasn’t going to get better.
“There must be something they can do,” another voice said, this time my body hauled me up a little. Conrad. I’ve been letting him visit me, he wanted to be here all the time but I asked Susannah to pace him. He was here this morning. It was meant to be one visit a day.
I know that makes me sound horrible, and it makes my own heart shatter piece by piece but it wasn’t because I didn’t love him or because I didn’t want him to be here. I knew there would be a time where he would have to move on, life would continue and he has such a bright future ahead of him, so many people to meet and experiences to be had. In my head if the distancing started now maybe it would be easier for him, even still the image of him with any other girl made me feel sick.
“Is she awake?” Is what I hear when I break out of thought.
“She wasn’t when I left to get changed and grab some food, but it’s been a couple of hours so she should be waking up soon if you want to go in,” mom said and I silently battled with the thought of pretending to still be asleep.
Before I had the time to make the choice the door was opening and then Conrad’s and my eyes met and he was coming to sit next to my bed, quickly pulling his hand into mine.
He bought a bag of games with him, we started with some card games, then snake and ladders, then four in a row and so on for a couple of hours. I was glad he came for the second time today.
“What?” He asked, I was staring at him but it wasn’t like he wasn’t staring back
“No nothing, just wondering how I managed to score such a hot boyfriend,” I say fanning myself with one hand, “And he’s a teddybear and sweetheart.” I added and watched him cringe at my words.
“I’m the one who should be asking how I managed to get a girlfriend as stunning and kindhearted as you,” he said but I just rolled my eyes. As much as we did this over the top thing as a joke we both knew we meant the words.
We talked and talked that night, he held my hand through it all. I didn’t realize how late it was but mom had come to sit in the corner of the room, she’d been having trouble sleeping recently but she’d managed to snooze off.
“I love you so much Connie, I’m thankful for you everyday, never ever change,” I whispered holding back a sob, he was half asleep on his chair next to my bed too.
“I love you too,” he said leaning up to kiss me gently. Then Connie and I whispered to each other until I too was fading away into sleep.
*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧*・゚*
Conrad’s POV:
I never thought I’d be stood here, looking at all these people and her picture in front of a casket. I took that photo the day I asked her to be my girlfriend on Cousins beach, all her teeth were shining pearly white and her hair was blowing in the wind framing her face like a masterpiece statue or a goddess.
“I think you all know that Y/n meant more to me than anything and anyone in my life, alongside my family. We grew up with each other. We were there for each other in the good and bad times even before we were together romantically. She is- was- one of the most integral pieces of the puzzle of our lives. I think I can speak on behalf of our families,” I pause, tears rolling down my face, and a sob building up in my throat, “I don’t know how I will be able to go day by day without seeing her, hearing her voice and her passion. She inspired me more than anyone and I will love her until the day I die and even further into whatever comes after death, I will do everything in my power to make sure all her goals for the many charities and organizations are complete, I will build a new charity in her name, I will make sure she gets the remembrance she deserves, because- because more than anyone I know she deserved all happiness and love. She will be missed more than I could ever have the words to express” I finished and turned to the casket, “Please don’t leave me, come back to me,” I whispered.
There was more I wanted to say, I could speak about her for days and nights on end, about how wonderful and bubbly and kind she was and yet I couldn’t. These faces in the crowd, some knew her better than others but no one like our little families, Belly, Jere and Steven were all sat next to each other crying. Mom was holding her arms around Y/n’s mom and dad as they stared at me, thankful for my words.  
I broke into tears too, leaning onto the stand in front of me for support. Mom rushed towards me now, holding me close and helping me down to the seats. There I sat numb, tears flowing as the pastor finished the ceremony after which we all filed out and watched her get lowered into her grave. It read ‘Y/n L/n. Daughter, friend, love. An inspiration to all’
I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I was holding her hand the night she passed. Two weeks since I’ve lost my everything.
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eatingaburrito · 30 days
Text
SNOOZE, oscar piastri
summary. in which, everyone finally meets oscar’s girlfriend—who happens to be a ballerina. (part two)
genre. smau
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yourusername are you happy to be in paris ?
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yourbestfriend 🥖 oui 🥖
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oscarpiastri No, come home
yourusername YOU come home you know damn well i was not born to live w spiders babe
oscarpiastri Rude
yourusername that’s not rude ?????
oscarpiastri It is ! The spiders miss you too by the way
yourusername tell them to fuck off 😍
oscarpiastri Extra rude
user why do i imagine oscar speaking w an expensive british accent
landonorris BC HE DOES
oscarpiastri Fake news
user wait what is she doing in paris ???????? isn’t she supposed to be w her bf rn ?
user she’s performing the Romeo and Juliet ballet this week-end at the Paris theatre
yourbestfriend im literally gonna stay glued to my tv until you make an apparition
user ON TV ????????
landonorris if nobody receives news from oscar this weekend its probably bc he’s preparing himself to see his gf on tv
oscarpiastri Can you stop exposing me ?
landonorris no
user her dance school has posted the rehearsals of the ballet and i recognise that she is an outstanding dancer !!!!!!!
user the rehearsals were so good 🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽 they are all so talented
charlesleclerc Did you just eat croissants without me ?
yourusername bc i was supposed to eat them w you 🤨
charlesleclerc Yes, that’s the rule of being a friend of mine
yourusername bro you have rules for your friends ???? wonder why you don’t have many
charlesleclerc Rude
oscarpiastri That was rude baby
yourusername you two stfu
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yourusername best experience of my life, thank you so much @theatredeparis 🤍
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oscarpiastri So proud of you. You did so well, I cried. ❤️
yourusername STOP i need to hug you
yourusername thank you so much babe, you know i couldn’t do it if you weren’t there for me
oscarpiastri I love you
yourusername JAJD’ELLZ STOP i love you too 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
user GIRL THAT WAS FIRE
user i didn’t know you were THAT elastic !!!!!!!!!!!!!
user bro just say she danced good
user i bet oscar cried (bc i did)
landonorris hell yeah he cried (i did too)
yourusername AWWWW YOU CRIED
landonorris stfu you stole my mate
yourusername ?????? he was mine anyway 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️
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yourbestfriend SO SO SO SO PROUD OF YOU YOU WERE PERFECT EVERYTHING WAS PERFECT
yourusername I LOVE YOUUUU
user i don’t think she’s that good but since she’s oscar’s gf everyone seems to change their mind 🤷‍♀️
user her talent have nothing to do w oscar ???????
landonorris being a hater doesn’t make you better bro
charlesleclerc You were so good, my maman almost cried (but me and my brothers did)
yourusername awwwwww thank you croissant 🤍
user that’s so refreshing to see that the school dances are finally putting black dancers forward
user THIS !!!!!!!!!
lancasteruniversity Proud of our little student ! 🩰
yourusername 💋💋💋💋💋
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oscarpiastri Girlfriend appreciation post because she deserves it. She is the best girlfriend in the world, the best dancer I know and the sweetest girl on the planet. I’m so proud of what you were, are and about to become. Praying that you’re staying with me forever. Love you 🤍
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user oscar out here spitting facts with that caption
yourusername JAKSKLZLQMAMKSZK
yourusername I TOLD YOU TO STOP IM ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING STUPID IF YOU DONT
oscarpiastri If the stupid thing is going back home, I’m not stopping
yourusername i love you so much even words can’t show how much i care about you
yourusername i don’t like being cute for too long (and exposing my feelings on the internet) but i think if i put a ton of heart emojis you’ll understand
yourusername 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
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user CAN YOU 2 STOP BEING CUTE PEOPLE ARE NOT IN HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP OUT THERE
landonorris man is whipped
oscarpiastri Lando, we all know how you are with you-know-who
user WHO
landonorris nobody 🙅🏽🙅🏽🙅🏽🙅🏽🙅🏽🙅🏽
user oscar exposing lando is something i didn’t know i needed
landonorris weird af
alex_albon omg you two are so cute
alex_albon i ship 😘😘😘😘😘😘
landonorris bro are you dumb ?????
alex_albon Lmao sorry Lily took my phone
lilymhe don’t know what you’re talking about
lilymhe OMG OUR LITTLE OSCAR IS IN LOVE
landonorris WHY ARE YOU AND YOUR MAN SO LATE
lilymhe stop shouting at me you cunt
landonorris AYO WHAT
user LMAO WHY THE PADDOCK PEOPLE ONLY REALISE RN THAT OSCAR IS WHIPPED
user their dynamic is so cute
user like why are you being so cute for no fucking reason ?????????
user we need yourname to finally come home to oscar
oscarpiastri That’s what i’m fighting for 💔
yourusername stop you know damn well i wanna come home to you too
oscarpiastri Then come home ?
yourusername @lancasteruniversity
lancasteruniversity We have to talk a bit about this, but I think you deserve some vacation 😉
oscarpiastri FINALLY
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cupidssorbett · 8 months
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"What a cowboy.”
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Cowboy/Vaquero Miguel x Ranch-Hand? Reader.(Beautiful art above is by Katromz on tiktok and insta!)
Summary: Miguel ends up trying to befriend his longtime friend and employers niece however maybe befriend isn't quite the word.
Includes: AFAB reader but no specified pronouns/race/looks nothing, flirting/teasing, Nicerish AU Miguel, caught masturbating, Oral M & F, recieving praise, mentions of the word 'cunt/pussy', P in V, as well as not much use of name more nicknames.
P.S Vaquero and Cowboy are the same words for those who don't know, a friend requested this so I delivered! Please pardon any terribly translated Spanish I am still learning and had only few help from a friend of mine! This was a request so thank you to my friend!
Word count: 7766.(it's a long one babes.)
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By cupid.
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Begin.
You’d been sent out for the summer to help your uncle at his ranch, you didn’t mind too much it’d be giving you more to do than usual. He was happy to have you since most his ranch-hands called out or would be busy trying to fill in the empty spots left by others. So when he heard his favorite niece would be dropping in to help out he was more than delighted.
It was a long, long car ride to his ranch and by the time you had arrived the sun was high in the sky and it was sweltering. You hopped out of your dad’s truck with a smile on your face, your cousin’s Poppy & Nana coming to greet you with enthusiasm, quickly taking your bags. “Look at you two, it feels like it’s been forever since we’ve hung out together!” You say as you nudge Nana’s arm, she laughs a bit as the three of you trudge up the dirt driveway up to the main house.
Poppy opens the door for you as soon as you head inside you hear a squeal from your Aunt Maria, who immediately runs over to scoop you up into a hug. “Sweetheart it has been too long!” She says excitedly as she practically squeezes the air outta you. “I missed ya too aunty but please..please let me go I can’t breathe-!” You manage out as she lets you go, “Oh my! Sorry ‘bout that sugar! It’s just been so long!” She says pinching your cheek a little. “Now, Girls go show her to her room alright? Get all cozy, Jack said he wasn’t gonna have you start work till tomorrow when he can give you the lowdown of everythin’ new.” She said shooing you three up the stairs.
You followed the girls up the stairs as they talked away, you weren’t really invested in the conversation as you looked at all the old pictures that were hung up on the walls. All those old memories made you smile, you were out of it until Poppy pulled you back into reality with a tug on the arm, albeit a hard tug, “You alright there?” She asked, raising a brow at you as nana opened the door to the room, you blinked and flashed her a smile. “Yeah just got a little out of it, this heat whew it is-” “Why don’t we head to the lake!” Nana says with a bright smile as she sets your bags on your bed, cutting you off.
“Oh I don’t know what if your dad needs me here or help with anything I’m not just here to leisure about.” You say as they both sigh dramatically, “C’mon you heard mama, papa’s not gonna need you till tomorrow!” Poppy says crossing her arms, eventually you sigh giving into them and their antics. Excitedly they leave you to get ready telling you to meet them downstairs when done. Once you are ready to go with a little bag that has sunscreen and such inside you hurry downstairs the two girls waiting for you.
You can’t help but grin with their contagious smiles, “Ma! We’re heading to the lake!” Nana calls out to her, “Be safe girls! Be back by sundown too ya hear?” She calls from the kitchen and you all respond with unanimous ‘Yes ma’am!’ before hurrying out the door giggling like a bunch of school girls as you anticipate the cool water of the lake.
It was a bit of a trek until you reached it, shoving branches aside and walking through bushes hoping none of them were poison ivy or poison at all. Once nana pushed a thick willow branch aside you sighed happily, the blue water shining under the high sun. The three of you quickly hurried to the shore finding a nice spot to lay your things.
As you and nana carefully laid things out poppy quickly ditched her shorts she wore over her swimsuit bottoms and ran into the cool water with a loud cheer. She then decided to splash the two of you, causing you to get a cheeky grin. “Oh that’s how it’s gonna be huh?” You asked playfully as you ditched your own shoes and bottoms before running into the water yourself.
The cool embrace of the lake on your warm skin made you feel completely relaxed, until you remembered your motive to run in here in the first place. The time at the lake started with games and running off the rock ledge that overlooked the lake to jump in. Splashing one another or Watching as someone did something dumb for what felt like the 100th time in those hours.
By the time the sun started to settle down in the sky you were resting on your towel as the girls continued to play in the waters. Drifting off into your own daydreams, sunglasses shielding your eyes from the fleeting rays, until you were startled awake by squeal. You assumed something had happened, so you quickly sat up pushing your sunglasses to sit on your head. “What? What happened?” you asked worried, until you saw them giggling over something or more rather..someone.
You let a slight huff at the fact they had you all worried for nothing, you however curiously followed their eyes. Wondering what could’ve caused them to squeal to begin with. Down a good way from your spots on the bank was a man, a rather handsome man you had to admit. Poppy however caught your staring and with a cheeky smile sat beside you, “Ooo! Do I sense a crush perhaps?” She said with a shit eating grin.
Waving her off you stopped staring at the mystery man, “Oh please, You think everything is a crush or love related.” you said, trying to dismiss her packing your stuff away as the sun started to set. Nana was quick to hurry outta the water spotting you and your packing, quickly just tossing her stuff in her bag as you & poppy shook your heads at her mess of a bag now.
All of you hurried back dodging branches and plants until you were on an open stretch the house coming into view, “So..” you started, earning their attention again. “Who was that guy?” you asked, keeping your gaze ahead. You heard the stifled giggles and such from them before nana caught up to you, “He is papa’s right hand man, quite the looker isn’t he?” she teased with a smile. “I suppose,” you said as you walked up the porch steps hearing their squeals and giggles. “But don’t go tellin’ anyone, I barely know that man.” you said sternly pointing at the two of them and they quickly stopped their giggling nodding as you headed inside.
Heading inside your aunt had prepared some dinner for when everyone got back, and as hungry as you were you decided to go and get a shower. Not before your uncle was quick to scoop you up in a hug much to your protest before you fake made a disgusted face before he ruffled up your hair as you headed up the stairs getting a warm shower and some dryer clothes.
After dinner and what not you were sitting upstairs with Poppy & Nana and one or two of the herding dogs, flicking through movies trying to find something to watch. Seeing as none of you could agree on anything it eventually came down to just getting some sleep, the hours at the lake tiring you out and your aunt & uncle calling out a goodnight to you three had reminded you that you’d be out helping in the morning so sleep was a good option.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
The birds started chirping and the sun began to peek through the blinds, once it hit your eyes you groaned and began to open your eyes with a squint bringing a hand up to block the bright rays from practically blinding you. Sitting up blinking the sleep from your eyes you took note that it was just you and nana in the room, nana being fast asleep still.
You decided it’d be a good time to wake up and get ready so you could start helping your uncle out, you quickly brushed your hair to look less like you just got up and then you grabbed an outfit from your suitcase that would best suit the chores you’d be doing and the hot summer heat. You quickly made your way downstairs some of the dogs following you, “Mornin’ Sugar!” Aunt Maria called to her as she flipped some pancakes. “Morning Aunt Maria, Where’d poppy run off to?” you asked, snatching up a piece of bacon from the plate on the counter sharing some with the dogs.
“Oh she ran into town to fetch some more seeds for the garden, Jack told me we had extras but I know we didn’t, speakin’ of which since your most likely heading out that way mind giving those breakfast burritos on the counter the boys.” She asked using her spatula to motion to the cloth covered basket. You nodded, finishing the bacon off and grabbing the basket heading out the back door and off the porch to the main farm area and barn.
It wasn’t a long walk by any means, just one that felt long with how the sun sat so high and beating down on you, you spotted your uncle's truck out front of the barn. All the workers either sitting in the bed of the truck or leaning against it, you hurried over with a smile on your face as your uncle spotted you tipping his hat back slightly, a smile coming to his face.
“Hey there sweetheart, whatcha got?” he asked as he got up off the side of the truck walking over. “Aunty asked me to bring these breakfast burritos for you boys.” you said and they all hooted and hollered hurrying off the truck to grab one for themselves making you just laugh and shake your head. “Thank you for that darlin’ , right you all know my niece don’t you?” He asked, raising a brow as a few murmured yes’s and no’s were heard.
“Well you do now,” he said as he motioned to you, moving aside as you gave them all a wave of ‘hello’ then you spotted him, the man from the lake the other day. You didn’t realize you were staring until he made eye contact with you. A rather cheeky smile gracing his lips.
Once they were all done with their burritos the real work began. “Alright, Think you can work on feedin’ all the animals first then we can start on herdin’ the pasture ones back alright?” Your uncle asked and you nodded, “I’m on it!” you said with a smile. “How bout I send someone with ya, we’ve got a few new ones that might need some introduction, How about..Miguel!” your uncle said, clapping his hands together.
You were picking up one of the feed bags off the truck bed when a rather tall and muscular man walked up with a slight smile on his face, “Looks like I’m helpin’ you today sweetheart.” Miguel said, and oh god Miguel was the man from the lake. This realization almost had you dropping the feed bag before you quickly readjusted your hold on the bag. He only chuckled, slightly tilting his head and the brim of his hat up, giving you an even better look at his face, “Come on don’t go fallin’ for me already.' ' he teased at you.
Huffing you adjusted your grip on the bag turning on your heel with a little scoff, “You wish, I would never I barely know you.” You said as you began walking, utter bullshit, you couldn’t lie that his face, his eyes, his damn voice had you enthralled. He only let out a hearty chuckle following you carrying a bag or two of his own, “Then why not get to know me?” He suggested, shaking his head as you sped up your walking speed.
When you finally reached the animals you breathed a sigh of relief, quickly hurrying over to say ‘hello’ to all of them forgetting about Miguel following after you, he stood off to the side as he opened some of the bags watching as you excitedly said ‘hello’ to the ones you knew, all calling them by name then excitedly gasping at the ones you didn't know.
He had to admit he found it amusing, cute even at the way you greeted them all. He had to, he just had to, he cleared his throat which brought you back to your little situation causing you to huff almost and it only made him chuckle as he pushed a feed bag, ready and open your way. You grabbed the bag, opened the pen door and made your way inside without him, starting to fill up all the feeding spots walking about.
Miguel thought this would be a good time to start a conversation, “So, Why do ya keep ignoring me?” he asked and you just hummed in response, “I’m not.” You denied, “Ah-Ah just now you almost did.” He said looking at you, that stupid look on his face had you smiling slightly and rolling your eyes. Trying to look away before he caught it, but oh he caught it. “Hey! I saw that, I made a breakthrough!” He says motioning around to a nonexistent crowd almost proud of himself causing you to shake your head with a slight smile.
You two finished up the feeding chores with relative ease, the tension simply melting away as you two actually got to talking with one another actually getting to know more like he suggested, then you started saddling up some of the horses so they could head out to check for any lost or still loose cattle or sheep. You finished tightening one of the straps, patting the nose of the horse, a smile on your face when it responded with a big sloppy lick to your hand. “Alright, Are we ready to get a move on?” he asked as he took the reins from your hand. “Yep, All saddled up.” you said with a little salute.
“Thank you sugar, how bout you go feed the calves while we’re gone if you're up for it?” your uncle asked, hoping on the horse. “I can’t say no to feeding the calves,” you said with a smile. With a few waves and goodbyes you went off in search of the bottles that had the formula for the calves that were rescued and didn’t exactly take to any cow the ranch had. You grabbed the bucket of bottles and took a seat in the stable stall with one of the babies. Taking the bottle out, the little thing came running and it made you laugh.
You held the bottle up for it and at first it went well until it didn’t somehow, something had gotten on the shirt underneath your overalls and that was not sitting well on your skin with heat in the air. So you thought, hey they wouldn’t be back for maybe an hour or two at most so you unclipped the clips of your overalls and took the shirt off letting it rest on the table that had all the tools and such then you clipped your overalls back up and when right back to taking care of the calves.
To you only 30 maybe 40 minutes had gone by so you still weren’t too worried about putting that shirt back on or heading back to the house as you happily wandered the stable saying ‘hello’ to the horses that stayed behind. Blissfully unaware that Miguel had headed back to grab the hat he had forgotten, quickly making his way inside of the stable. Stopping his tracks quietly when he spotted you petting one of the horses and it seemed innocent enough until his eyes seemed to wander lower..to the point where he noticed you were not wearing a shirt under your overalls. And not wanting to make you uncomfortable or wanting to make anything else happen he just gave up grabbing his hat and left as quietly as possible.
When you had assumed they’d be coming back you went and got the shirt off the workbench and put it back on quickly as the cowboys came into view. You put on a smile and looked ahead as they made their way over and started hopping their horses all saying their ‘hellos’ and such but Miguel just completely ignored you, was he not going on about you ignoring despite barely knowing him earlier? What a hypocrite.
You just shrugged it off, what would it matter really, you said a quick ‘hello’ to your uncle as you checked the time, you had promised you’d spend the last few hours before the sun actually set at the lake with the girls and you had to depart to get ready. Simply brushing off Miguel ignoring you, you went back to the main house to change and once you were done you headed off however little did you know you’d spend your time alone at the lake..well for a little bit at least.
You relaxed on the bank for a little bit taking in the sun's rays after applying sunscreen of course, waiting thinking maybe they’d got busy or something. So you went from enjoying the water to resting on the shore to reading the book you brought until you exhaled a bit annoyed. You got up, gathered your things, slipped your shorts back on and made your way back to the main house in a slight huff.
When you opened the door your aunt seemed to pick up on your bad mood, “What’s the matter pumpkin?” she asked as she dried her hands with the towel. “The girls told me to meet them at the lake and then they just didn’t come!” you said with arm motions. She seemed to shake her head and sigh, “Well if your looking to pick a bone with them they might’ve gone down to the guest house to deliver the fruit like I asked, the one where the cowboys are stayin’.” She said, giving you a little nod. You thanked her begrudgingly before starting your way to the guest house, saying hello to the cowboys you saw as you headed by whether they were lugging hay or simply just passing by.
You got to the guest house and opened the front door, it was rather empty, and you didn’t hear any giggling, not even a hint of your cousin’s voices, you raised your brow carefully making your way down the hallway. You continued until you saw a door slightly creaked open, you neared it hoping maybe your cousin’s were just fooling around here and that you could drag them back. But that idea quickly evaporated as you neared closer you heard..grunts? At first you thought it was one of pain but when you got a view of what was behind the just barely opened door you quickly realized it was not one of pain rather of pleasure.
There Miguel laid on presumably his bed, legs spread slightly, cowboy hat resting lazily over his head, pants just barely down his thighs as his head moved up his hard erection..precum leaking from the red angry tip. You couldn’t help but stare, biting back the gasps with a hand over your mouth. His teeth sucking his bottom lip back slightly exposing his sharp canines that had you feeling some kind of way, but oh boy it just got better as soon as you mindlessly dropped your hand from your mouth he muttered out your name, “Dios... Ni siquiera sé cómo me hiciste esto..(God... I don't even know how you did this to me.)” He murmured out in Spanish as he hissed when he glided his thumb over the leaking slit.
Miguel was lost in his own thoughts, his mind flitting back to when he saw you in the stable in nothing but your shoes and overalls. He groaned out as he moved his hand up, he knew it was wrong and dirty not just for the fact that he was just getting to know you but the fact he wished it was your hands and not his then he was snapped back to reality by a noise..
You gasped and your gasp got his attention causing you to quickly hide behind the wall before he could spot you, when you heard him moving off the bed you were quick to run as quietly down the hallway. Your feet carried you quickly as you hurried out of the guest house not wanting to get caught in the slightest.
Your heart felt like it was in your ears, your cheeks felt hot, hell your whole body felt hot. You hurried quick and fast to the main house, your feet just carrying you inside as you gave a quick ‘hello’ to your Aunt before going to your room flopping onto your bed. Burying your head into your pillow and just screaming muffling it.
God..he was thinking about YOU? That had your heart feeling like it was going to burst out of your chest, you rolled onto your back as you stared at the ceiling that moment replaying in your head causing you to subconsciously rub your thighs together before you brought your hands up to smack your cheeks, mentally cursing yourself for feeling this way.
Huffing you sat up on the bed grabbing your journal you brought with you, “God..Was he really thinking about me? But why,” you murmured as you flipped out the journal trying to write it out of your mind at least so you could push it off and act as if normal. By the time you finished you were called down for dinner and you just inhaled and exhaled pushing it to the back of your mind shoving the Journal under your pillow and heading down.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
By the time dinner was done you and poppy were helping with the dishes as a few of the cowboys stopped by to drop off some stuff and there he was again, you quickly looked away as he spotted you offering you a sweet smile and tilt of his hat. You only just ignored him continuing your conversation with poppy and working on the dishes.
When you finished you quickly dried your hands not wanting to stick around for very long you couldn’t even fathom why seeing him again got you so much more worked up than it should. “I’m headin’ to bed really tired, Night everyone!” you called quickly as you hurried up the stairs to your bedroom causing Miguel and a few others to raise a brow before just brushing it off to turn to their own things.
You inhaled sharply and exhaled laying onto your bed, your hands traveling gingerly down your stomach to the hem of your pj shorts. Your fingers slipping past the hem of the shorts to your panty clad cunt, exhaling slightly as your fingers brushed over your cunt that slight pressure you added caused your body to melt slightly into your pillows. Your mind clouding with thoughts of him, before the sound of someone coming upstairs snapped you back to reality.
You quickly pulled away from your shorts and grabbed a random book from the nightstand to act as if you were reading. Poppy and Nana came bursting in with a movie for the three of you to watch and you all but sighed happily as it was something to completely take your mind off it.
The movie was put in and the lights were turned off getting all cozy in your beds and watching the movie until you all but fell asleep..
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
For the next few days you did your best to keep your distance from Miguel but your hard-headedness to stay away from him only had him more intrigued and always earned a laugh from him because you always denied his questions whenever he asked one and you denied his help just to make it easier, but it seemed to fail every now and again considering your help to your uncle’s work and with him always having the cowboys with him you only ever saw him everyday..
The next morning came and you decided you’d just avoid Miguel completely and only interact if you just HAD to interact with him thinking that it would be best especially because of the way you made him feel and with the way he had you feeling even if you were just getting to know him better.
Today you dawned a nice summer dress as you were going to help your Aunt in the garden to keep a distance between you and him. You put on a sun hat and followed your Aunt out to the garden to work on the precious marigolds she had planted that were getting swallowed by the pesky weeds.
Dropping down onto your knees and getting to work right away you heard a clatter of tools causing your head to whip around to where it came from, and god fucking dammit you swore nothing was on your side this week, it was miguel, tool belt beside him and a few fence posts as he shot you an apologetic smile. “Sorry bout’ that didn’t mean to startle you act like I’m not here.” you only hummed in response, turning your attention back to the flowers.
Digging into the dirt yanking weed after weed out as the sun began to rise high into the sky above, causing you to start to sweat under the hot rays. You huffed sitting back on your heels as you dusted your hands off of dirt with the exception of some stuck under your nails. Miguel heard your little huff and his eyes happened to wander your way, gazing unapologetically up your figure, your flushed face and slightly pouted lips catching his attention.
He cleared his throat slightly, turning his attention back to the fence, “You doin’ alright Miss?” he asked, tipping his hat back slightly. You just hummed in response earning a small frown from him, “What?” you asked, raising a brow. “How come you keep ignorin’ me, I thought we were making progress?” he said as he looked at you.
“Well, You started it when you came back from the stable that day and completely ignored me.” you shot back as you crossed your arms, “I did not I was just busy,” he said more matter of factly. The way he seemed so hurt by your antics had you feeling bad almost, you eventually sighed dropping your arms to your side. “Alright fine I have been but I ain’t telling you why, BUT I will make a better effort to stop ignoring you I suppose.” You said and you watched as his face brightened slightly.
“Well I think I’d be the happiest cowboy around,” He said with that stupid smile, “You're so weird.” You stated, shaking your head and turning your attention back to the weeds. He only laughed and went right back to his job, that’s what sparked the two of you talking again, you knew deep down you weren’t gonna be able to ignore him even if you tried because that really only made things awkward so you decided it would be best to try and be his friend.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
That is how you spent some of your days, getting to know him and then spilling your feelings to your little diary and then going right back at being friendly, well one fateful day you made the mistake of leaving your diary not entirely under your pillow.
You were helping Miguel lug some hay to the truck and you exhaled, noticing the way your skin was getting a little red, “Damn, Hey Miguel could you go to my room and grab my sunscreen for me? I’ll finish loading up the hay if you do.” You said giving him a little smile and he sighed with a laugh. “Alright alright I’ll go fetch it, Where would I find it?” He asked stopping in his tracks.
“On the nightstand!” You called back as you grabbed another bale, he nodded giving you a little salute before setting off. He headed inside offering a polite ‘hello’ to your aunt before going upstairs finding your room and heading inside. Originally he was just here to grab the sunscreen and go but a little book peeking out from behind your pillow had him curious.
He stopped for a moment before he eventually caved and carefully picked it up in his hands, just a peek, it wouldn’t hurt really. Just a peek turned into reading some pages and skipping others, that was until he stumbled upon some of the more..explicit pages and they seemed to be about him. God he felt his pride swell, the way you thought about him and looked at him.
“Well damn little lady..” Miguel murmured with a slight smile on his face before he shut the journal, having now learned about your developing crush on him and the way you thought about him. He grabbed the sunscreen and headed back down and out with a curt tip of his hat.
You noticed when he was walking back he had a little beat to his steps causing you to smile and raise a brow as you took the sunscreen from him. “What’s got you so happy go lucky?” you asked as you applied some on your face and arms and he just hummed in response. “Eh no particular thing, can’t a man just be happy hm?” He teased you and you playfully swatted at his arm. Once you were all good with the sunscreen you two got back to work, all the moving and feeding and more moving of stuff had you both out till the sun was settling near the mountain tops.
“Hm, Looks like we should start headin’ back Miguel.” You said looking at the way the sun was settling, “Ah right, can’t believe the day slipped away from us that damn quick.” He said as he adjusted his hat to sit back on his head slightly, you couldn’t help but admire his features slightly before snapping yourself out of it. “Miguel, I was wondering if you, I mean if you and any of the cowboys would like to come down to the main house for a lunch of sorts,” Miguel smiled coyly at your little invitation, “Oh? You're inviting little ol’ me huh?” he said his smile went from coy to smug and you rolled your eyes playfully.
“You wish, I’m doing it as a request from my aunt.” You said lying through your teeth, no you were wholeheartedly inviting Miguel, using your aunt as an excuse so he didn’t see right through you. However that was long gone really, he already saw right through you, you and your dirty little thoughts with the way you looked at him and what he learned from your diary. He dramatically put a hand over his heart, “I am truly honored sugar,” he joked causing you to roll your eyes again starting your way back to the main house.
His smile never leaving his face,”See ya tomorrow sweetheart,” he laughed as you turned away from him quickly heading back to the main house to wash up for dinner, he knew damn well what he was going to do tomorrow to get you alone and he couldn’t wait.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
He spent his day counting down the minutes till he could meet you for lunch well you and your family really, when he saw how the time neared closer he had gone back to the guest house to freshen up opting for a nicely pressed shirt, one of his nice belts, and some jeans that he knew you thought looked damn good on him. Grabbing his hat swiftly and the sunflowers he got just for today.
Making sure he didn’t look too eager he toned down his steps and his excitement, knocking on the front door adjusting his grip on the flowers. He heard you call out ‘I got it!’ before your footsteps followed, opening the door you were the picture of summer. Wearing a nice little sundress, hair more loose and free, and a smile creeping its way onto your face. “Howdy little miss.” He said his southern drawl coming out more has he held the flowers out to you.
You accepted them gratefully, “Miguel you really didn’t have to-” “I wanted to sugar, there’s a difference.” He hummed as he walked inside with you greeting your aunt and uncle with his usual polite demeanor and then greeting your cousins with that smile of his. You couldn’t help but grin, going and finding a vase for the flowers. “He’s a real nice boy ain’t he?” your aunt asked, having noticed your grin.
Still subconsciously smiling as you filled the vase with water you shrugged, “Yeah I suppose he is.” She just laughed a bit as she brought the food and drinks to the table with you following behind her setting the beautiful sunflowers as the centerpiece. Calling everyone to the table for lunch, you settled into your seat, Miguel sitting in the seat beside you which was across from your uncle so they could continue whatever conversation they were having.
You all served yourselves and then conversations began, it felt like most lunches with the addition of Miguel, little did you know what he was planning. He knew how the herding dogs were so when your aunt went to grab the pitcher of juice he sneakily tossed a piece of food underneath the table causing all of them to make a run for the food bumping your aunt’s chair, the pitcher of juice ended up splashing all over your sundress causing you to squeal and jump up.
You quickly excused yourself to hurry up stairs to remove the splotches of color that had begun to seep into the fabric more and more. Miguel excused himself as well, saying he had a call to take and it was rather important. Your family thought nothing of it, just hoping you’d be alright. He headed up the stairs with ease as he heard the sink start to run. Inside you had grabbed a cloth and began to rub at the stains without much thought.
Then a knock sounded and you sighed thinking it was your Aunt or cousins you opened it, it was Miguel. “Ah- I’m sorry I’m tryin’ to-” Miguel cut you off, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I know how to get pesky stains out especially ones that ruin such a nice dress.” You blinked the nickname felt less innocent for some reason especially with the way he was looking at you.
You cleared your throat allowing him to come in and shut the door as he kneeled down digging through the cabinets, “Ah here we are,” He said holding some bleach, “This oughta help somewhat.” He hummed as he dabbed a cloth with some leaning forward looking at you for your permission. You nodded slowly and he brought the cloth to one of the stains, wiping gently. His touch so gentle and soft had your stomach erupting in butterflies.
You felt your arousal grow slightly from his little touches and ministrations and the way he always looked to you with those eyes as a way of asking. You couldn’t help but stare at him, analyzing his features and then a chuckle erupted from his chest causing you to snap back to the situation. “Darlin’ If you keep staring at me that way I might just have to do what your little diary says.” the mention of your diary as your cheeks flushing red and your heart speeding up more than it was before. “I beg your pardon?” was all you could manage out.
He chuckled, setting the cloth aside and moving closer, “I didn’t wanna tell you this sugar but I’ve read your little journal and all the thoughts you think bout me.” He whispered softly against your ear causing you to shudder slightly. “Miguel I can explain-” You started, “Shh, Shh no need sweetheart, I know exactly what you need.” He said softly as he leaned closer, his lips hovering just away from yours. “Question is, do you really want this?” He asked wanting to really make sure this wasn’t some wet dream or that it wasn’t you who felt this way. You swallowed hard as you exhaled shakily, nodding, “Words sugar.” He said softly against your lips. “Yes Miguel, Please.” You pleaded slightly and he chuckled, shaking his head. “Goodness little miss your going to be the death of me.” He teased before your lips met.
It started out soft and sweet then grew into something more passionate and rough as his hands rested on your hips, his thumbs tracing patterns on the cloth that covered them. You pulled away for air, your breathing coming out in small pants and huffs. “Look at you..Kiss bitten lips all needy for me.” Miguel said with a slight smug smirk, “I’m not needy.” You shot back at him with a small huff.
His hand went from your hips to your thigh working up to your panty covered clit, a gasp eliciting from your throat. “Not so needy huh?” he teases as he rubs a thumb over your covered clit groaning at the way your arousal has made your panties wet. “Not-Not needy at all,” You managed out as a whine followed your words when his hand moved away.
“Then maybe I shouldn’t,” He started before you sighed, “Please Miguel..” You murmured, earning a smile from him, “Please what?” he said, pushing you on. “I need you.” you whined out earning a satisfactory chuckle, his hands found your waist and he hoisted you up to sit on the counters of the bathroom. His lips immediately find your inner thigh, sucking marks into the soft skin.
His hands wander as you let out small gasps and cries trying to be quiet, as you beg for him, as you beg TO him. God he never really thought his little idea would work but here he was buried in between your thighs, what a dream. His lips inched closer and closer to where you wanted him, he gently pulled your panties down and off. Then he licked a slow stripe up your folds eliciting a moan from you causing you to cover your mouth.
You could practically feel the smile he had on his face, he began eating you out like you were the last meal he’d ever eat. His tongue working your leaking hole then focusing directly on your clit. Humming gently when his lips wrapped around the sensitive bud causing a guttural noise to slip past your hand. His pace is unforgivable with the way he’s eating you.
He acts like he's a starved man eating the most delicious food alive and he just can’t stop, one hand keeping your thighs apart and the other massaging the soft supple skin. The way he alternates between tongue fucking you then sucking at your clit has your head in the cloud feeling like your on cloud nine.
Without warning he shoves two fingers in causing you to gasp at the surprise feeling, his fingers working slowly but surely in a soft pace to give you time until you're practically begging for more and he gives you more. His fingers curl in the right spots as he pumps his fingers in and out of you sloppily kissing and licking at your clit.
All the stimulation has your head reeling as a knot forms in your stomach, he doesn’t stop, he makes direct eye contact with you with that smug smile on his face as the knot snaps. Your velvety walls spasming around his fingers as you orgasm, your eyes shut tight as he laps up all of it slowly letting you down from your high as you exhale sharply when he removes his fingers.
His hands come to make quick work of his belt and jeans bringing his boxers and jeans just low enough for his painfully hard cock to spring out. You can’t help but stare as he works it slightly, your mouth practically hanging open at the sight of it, precum beading at the tip as he works it slightly lining his head up with your entrance.
He looks to you for another affirmation and you nod looking up at him with those pleading eyes again and he can’t say no to you. He nudges his head in before plunging in full force eliciting a loud moan from your lips and groans from his with how tight you are around him. “God..So tight, such a good girl I swear.” he murmurs as he begins thrusting into your cunt, the praise causing your pussy to flutter around him. He acknowledged this with a little smirk.
“You like that huh? You like being my good girl,” He huffs out earning a whine from you, he lands a small slap to your ass causing a yelp to fall from your lips. “I asked you a question.” He said gruffly his change in attitude had your stomach feeling butterflies. “Yes, Yes s’good Miguel!” You cried out as his pace became relentless. His smirk remained at the way you reacted to all of this. His hands have a grip on your hips that’ll most definitely bruise without a doubt.
His face finds itself in the crevice of your neck placing soft kisses and words of praise into your ear, your mind practically melts from all of this as he fucks you with such a pace, the sound of skin slapping and your muffled whines and cries becoming evident as he continues on. Your legs come to wrap around his back slightly as he pulls his face away to watch where you two connect. “Tan condenadamente apretada, tan buena para mí.(So damn tight, so good for me.)” He managed out as your walls fluttered around him, having a vice on his cock.
“That feel good? Hm?” he asked knowing damn well your practically fucked dumb at this point, nodding your eyes fluttering open as he comes to rhythmic pace that’s hitting all the right spots for you. He continues to praise you and kiss up your neck leaving marks occasionally just because he can. With the way your walls clench around him he can tell your close, his free hand comes down to rub circles on your clit making you gasp and your head loll back onto the mirror behind you.”So damn needy for me..Taking all you can get.” he chuckled out.
“I’m not needy,” you managed out best you could as you took his hat from him, He shook his head at your hard-headedness “Eres tan terco…(You are so stubborn..)” He huffed out with a chuckle, quickly taking his hat back from you as you shot him a mischievous smile even in your mind melted state. Rolling your hips eliciting a groan from the cowboy who tossed his head back, his hat covering his face.
He hums slightly, leaning down to plant kisses on your collarbone and shoulder, “That’s how you wanna play huh?” he murmurs into your skin, his pace picking up almost knocking the air out of you, the lewd noises that spill from your lips spur him on, and that familiar knot tightens in your stomach, then the coil snaps and your cunts warm walls restrict around him and he can’t help but groan before he quickly pulls out before he can cum. Causing a small whine from you at the loss of feeling full.
“You wanna play games then we can play games sugar.” He says as he brings you off the counter onto your knees, you swallow thickly as you gently kitten lick the tip of his cock, soft and slowly. Teasing him with it, earning low groans and even slight whines from him. You don’t get very far with your tricky endeavors before he bucks his hips slightly causing you to gag around it. “Sorry bout that darlin’ just can’t help myself.” he says with a slight smile.
You start a steady pace, your hands resting on his thighs as you bob your head back and forth, your nose touching the tip of his pelvis before you pull off of him just to tease him again. He groans out before laughing slightly, his hand coming to find itself behind your head. “God you are just a little tease ain’tcha.” he says before thrusting into your mouth, causing you to gag slightly and pat his thighs. Tears welling in your eyes.
“Shh shh, it’s alright just relax.” He says softly and you try to, finding a steady breathing pace through your nose and relaxing your throat slightly. He begins face fucking your practically, drool coming to spill from the side of your mouth and nose tickling his pelvis as the hums you produced in response to his praises elicited groans and huffs from him.
His pace was rhythmic until it became erratic, his breathing becoming more uneven, “Don’t think I’m gonna last any longer.” Miguel huffs out as his pace becomes more needy. You hum around him and he groans, begging you to do that again and you oblige, humming around his length gagging slightly. The sensations send him over the edge after a few more thrusts his cum spurts down your throat causing you to swallow out of reflex, he slowly pulls out a string of spit connecting him to your kiss bitten drool covered lips. God the sight of alone could have had him going again he leaned forward wiping a thumb over your lip to wipe the drool away as you swallowed.
He planted a small kiss on your temple, “You're just perfect darlin’.” He praises making you smile slightly as he helped you stand up, a hand resting on your hips. “Maybe we should head back down, Wouldn’t want your family to worry too much.” you hummed in response, “I’m gonna change first, you go on down.” you said softly planting a kiss to his cheek as you carefully exited the bathroom to go back to the room.
Could this be the start of something real with this cowboy?
Fin.
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 1 month
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Pairing : Boyfriend!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : angst ; Hyunjin is just sad (which is honestly relatable) ; reader thinks they're pregnant ; reader might be pregnant ; symptoms of pregnancy ; fluff ending ; Word Count : 2.0k Request : Annony : Can I request and angsty fic Where Hyunjin has just been going through a really rough time and y/n tries her best to be there for him and keeps waiting for the right time to tell him she thinks she’s pregnant. He just keeps crying and he doesn’t know why he’s so sad, but slowly he gets out of it a bit. One morning he wakes up because y/n is having morning sickness and showing other symptoms so she has no choice but to finally open up and tell him everything. They take a test and well…I’ll let you take creative control after this. I’m really excited I’ve thought this request through a lot and I hope you decide to write it
“Hey, you okay?” Your coworker asked as she walked into the breakroom. Your head had been resting against the table, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as you tried to count your breaths. “Feeling dizzy again?” She asked when you didn’t answer her first question, and you gave her weak thumbs up in response. “Maybe you are… you know… the p word.” She whispered, and it’s not like it was a bad word to say, it’s just that you didn’t want anyone else that you worked with to know. 
“I’m too nervous to test…” You mumbled, and she knew exactly why. She was your only confidant at this point, especially since Hyunjin was going through his own personal problems. You didn’t want to stack anything else on top of whatever else was bothering him. All you did know was that, no matter how much you tried to help him or console him, he’d be right back to crying soon after. “Plus, it would be too soon… I don’t want to test too early or anything…” 
To be honest, home life wasn’t really the best right now. It’s not that there were any arguments, there was no fighting, but it was obvious that Hyunjin was stressed about something, and you were mentally stressed about potentially being pregnant, so the last thing you needed was triple the stress for both of you if a test came out positive. Even just thinking about it felt like too much right now.  
“Well you can’t wait forever. I mean… With his job, he gets stressed very easily. What are you gonna do? You can’t just hide potentially important things from him every time he gets upset or stressed out.” You rolled your eyes at your coworkers' sudden nagging, and while you knew that it came from a place of concern and care, you didn’t need that right now. You didn’t need to be parented, you needed someone to just be there for you. 
“He doesn’t get stressed easily, and you make it sound like he’s like this all the time. I’m not hiding things from him either, I’m giving him time to get in the right place mentally before dropping something like this on him.” You quickly defended your boyfriend, silently wishing that you hadn’t told your coworker anything at all. “He’s a good boyfriend, and just because he gets stressed and upset sometimes doesn’t change that.”
“I’m not saying that he’s not a good boyfriend for you… I just feel like you cater to him and his feelings a lot because of his job and your feelings get pushed to the backburner.” She tried to explain, but she couldn’t be further from the truth. 
“I’m not having this conversation right now. I appreciate you caring and trying to look out for me, but my relationship is fine. He’s a great guy… Okay? I have to get back to work now, enjoy your break.” 
///
Hyunjins moment seemed to last longer and longer. He’d lock himself in his room the moment he walked through the front door and you’d hear him cry for hours until things went silent, and the only reason things got quiet is because he’d cry himself to sleep. There was nothing you could do to help him because he wouldn’t even talk to you about it, and a part of you wondered if he’d ever get out of the funk he was in. 
With the time that passed, the symptoms only grew stronger. Your headaches were getting worse, the nausea was almost unbearable, even your boobs hurt. You wanted to excuse it as reading into the symptoms too much, you thought that your mind was playing tricks on you. You wanted to find any reason you could to hold off on testing until Hyunjin got better because you didn’t want to be alone when you found out, no matter what the result was. 
When Hyunjin was around, you tried to hide the symptoms from him. If you started feeling sick, you’d quickly go off to the bathroom and turn on the sink, hoping that you wouldn’t actually start throwing up. The tiredness that you felt was written off as working too many hours and being on your feet too long. Luckily he was none the wiser to the soreness in your breasts because you hadn’t been with him in any physical way since he had been in his funk. You missed him, and you wanted to blame the potentially surging hormones for the tears that would be shed when you’d lay in the same bed beside him at night without a single kiss or those three words that would make you feel like he did still love you. 
The longer it lasted, the more you would think about what your coworker had said. No matter how much you tried to get those words out of your head, they would constantly pop up. When you would hear him crying in the room and you’d try to help him, but it was like he was shutting you out. Not only did it feel like he was pushing you away, but it felt like you were by yourself. He wasn’t the only one going through something right now, and you wanted so badly to tell him, but for some reason you were trying so hard to protect him that you weren’t even worried about yourself. 
Even still, you didn’t want to give up on him. You loved him, and you truly believed that he just needed time, that he’d get better sooner or later, and no matter what, you’d stick by him, even if it meant pushing your own stresses, your own worries to the side until he got better. 
///
He was starting to feel better, he really was. It had been a week since the last time he had cried, and while he still doesn’t fully understand himself why things had gotten so bad or why he was so upset, he was thankful that he had you by his side the entire time, even if it didn’t seem that way. He wanted to take you out today, to show you that he appreciated you and everything that you do for him. He wanted to show you that he truly does love you, and that he’s grateful that you didn’t give up on him through this entire thing. 
The bed was already empty, which wasn’t rare as of lately considering he always seemed to sleep in, but one look at the clock on the bedside table made him fully aware that it was too early for even you to be awake. He could have sworn you came to bed last night, that he had felt the warmth of your body beside him underneath the covers. Had you gone to the couch at some point in the middle of the night? Were you finally pulling away? 
Just as he was pushing the comforter off of his body, he heard what sounded like gagging and choking and he never moved so fast in his life. Tripping over his own feet, he rushed into the bathroom to find you doubled over the toilet, sweat beading up on your forehead and spit dribbling down from the corner of your mouth. It’s like you didn’t even realize he was there, or maybe you just didn’t want to acknowledge him as you tried your best to seemingly catch your breath. 
“Baby… What’s wrong?” He whispered, kneeling down beside you to try to get you to look at him, but you only shook your head, pushing yourself up to your feet with the help of the side of the bathtub, leaving him on the floor and even more worried than before. “Are you mad at me? I’m sorry… Do you want me to leave you alone?” 
“No…” You said, your voice slightly raspy, and he could only assume that it was because of getting sick, but you sounded so tired too. He didn’t know how sick you were, he didn’t know what was going on or how long you had been feeling like this, but he wanted to be there for you now, no matter what was wrong. “I think… I might be pregnant…” Your head lowered, as if you were ashamed to be telling him that, although he wasn’t sure why. 
Of course, he wasn’t ready to be told something like that, he was sure that no man was ever truly ready to hear that, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t ready to step up and be the man that you and his potential child would need. “Okay… Well, I can run to the store and pick up some tests and we can find out if you are…” 
“I… Already have the tests. They’re in my purse…” You admitted and he nodded along slowly, trying not to get too upset that you had potentially been going through this for longer than he thought. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay first. I didn’t want to do this alone…” Alone… He had left you all alone to deal with these worries and these thoughts and these fears. “You… You are okay… Right?” 
His head nodded swiftly, his eyes that were brimming with tears of guilt glistened in the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom. “I am… I’m okay. You’re not alone, I’m here and no matter what happens… I’m going to stay here with you. I love you…” He finally got up off the floor, scrambling to his feet just to stand in front of you, his eyes finally meeting yours for what felt like the first time. “You have nothing to worry about… I’ll always be here… I promise.” 
///
“Out of the way! Out of the way! Move it! Excuse us! Make room! Pregnant girlfriend coming through!” Hyunjin shouted as he walked with you down the halls of the JYPE building. He was so loud, you were sure that even the people the next floor up could hear him coming, he was like a damn fire truck with its sirens on. You rolled your eyes at the rambunctiousness of it all. “What? I just don’t want anyone to bump into you or anything. I’m trying to keep you and baby Jinnie safe.” 
Your eyebrows arched at the little nickname that he had given the baby, you hadn’t heard him say it before. You had had an ultrasound the day before, and the doctor had asked if you wanted to know the gender of the baby, but you and Hyunjin had both agreed to keeping it a secret until the birth. “Baby Jinnie, huh? Where’d you come up with that name?” You quizzed, wondering if maybe his curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had just asked the doctor what the baby would be on his way out of the exam room. 
“Isn’t that what they do for sons in America? People name the baby boys after their father? He can be little Jinnie Jr. right?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked down at you. His arms were wrapped protectively around you as you rode the elevator up to the right floor, and as cute and innocent as he looked right now, you couldn’t help but be a little suspicious. 
“Hmm… A son? Are we having a boy?” His lips were drawn in, turning into a thin line and you could read the guiltiness on his face. He nodded his head slowly, clearly trying to read your reaction after having basically spoiled the surprise. “You just couldn’t wait to find out, could you?” You teased, and he let out a little sigh of relief when he realized that you weren’t angry. How could you be angry though? He wanted to know and you weren’t going to get mad at him for finding out. 
“Maybe we can do like… A baby shower, and a surprise gender reveal for everyone else!” He proposed the idea, and he sounded so excited, there was no way that you could turn him down, plus it sounded like fun. “The guys really want to know whether they’re getting a niece or a nephew, they’re gonna be so happy to find out!” He had been talking so loudly on the elevator, but once the doors slid open, his voice dropped to a whisper, his lips lingering right beside your ear. “This is our secret though, don’t tell them.” 
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leclsrc · 8 months
Text
more than anyone ✴︎ cl16
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genre: childhood friends to enemies to lovers (a mouthful), smut, humor, Fluffff!!!!, angst
word count: 13.7k  
You moved out of Monaco at fourteen with an unrepaired friendship hanging by a thread. Ten years and a whole lifetime later, you’re forced to work with him confront it all over again.
auds here… hi hi hi!!!! HAPPY 4k to us guys!!!!! i am so insanely thankful for all of u and i will make this a longer note when i wake up tomorrow because i have so much to say but have this for now. i hope u like it,i love love love u guys forever also i changed the banner because i wanted to
nsfw warnings under the cut!
18+ because... penetrative sex, semi public sex, praise central, size kink (pretty tame smut in auds world)
You know it’s bad when your assistant-and-friend-aka-friendsistant (her vernacular) Rachel walks in with a free coffee without a quip about how dependent you are on this exact order of coffee (she’s a millennial, so caffeine and lack thereof are in her arsenal of Funny Jokes). You fear you didn’t correctly anticipate just how bad it was going to be when she stays instead of leaving to work on your schedule, combing a few fingers through her fringe and sitting herself on your couch stiffly. Maybe you’re intuitive, maybe you spend too much time with Rachel and you can spot the way she scratches at her eye, maybe both—but it’s bad.
You don’t take a sip from the Starbucks that sits idly on the coaster, opting to watch the latte sweat instead. You do stare, though, at Rachel’s stagnant posture, scrutinizing her every movement. She takes a few deep breaths and drops the bomb.
“David sent me to tell you he has good news. But there is, um. Bad news.” Dread writhes through you at the mention of your manager with bad news, and you clear your throat to compose yourself.
“What’s going on?”
She purses her lips. “He’s on his way over here. Just…” She cocks her head sharply to the glass door of your home office, expression antsy. “Sorry. Wait for him. I can’t tell you anything yet.”
You take a swig from the pity coffee. “Am I getting blacklisted?”
“God, you dumbass, no—” She makes an incredulous noise, but before she can open her mouth to elaborate, your manager walks in with an excited expression on his face, pocketing his Juul to take a seat by your table. His smile is the radiant one of a man over forty with a comical amount of Botox.
“Rachel told me you had”—you stifle the adjective—“news.”
“That I do, yes.” He hums, tracing the edge of your table. “Did you enjoy Paris Fashion Week?”
Beside the brash Frenchmen, God-awful timezone differences and consequent calls at half past three, hungover show attendances, posing for pictures until your ankles blistered, and a temporary diet of black coffee, cigarettes, and stale croissants—sure, it was fun. It was your job to attend anyway, your obligation to shake hands with important people and be photographed in designer clothing and benefit from the PR, but how often could people call work fun? 
“Sure.” You take another gulp off your coffee. “It was… fun.”
“Well, since your movie’s doing well,” David pauses and hums, “how do you feel about another few weeks of fun?” 
“Like Paris Fashion Week—weeks… this month?” You frown, eyebrows knitting together. Is this a new Vogue thing? You’re not sure how many updates they give the schedule, but you wouldn’t mind too much if you could travel again for a little bit. “So soon after spring? Did Anna want this?”
“Iiiit’s, er, Vogue’s new project. Capsule shows in Europe, coastal and summery. She wanted an exclusive guest list. She asked for you by name,” David says smugly. “Well, she called my office, granted. But to ask for you—”
“Are you fucking serious?” You stand up, and if you hadn’t had some fix of coffee you would’ve gotten dizzy. “David, tell me you’re serious.” Time seems to have suspended itself as you await his answer—which, if affirmative, would be a pretty big deal to you. 
“Yeah, I am.” He plays off a grin. “She loved your movie with Greta, and would love to send you to Europe to do PR on a few shows and pair up with some guests on a couple features. Exclusive stuff.”
You sit back down, mouth slack. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe it.” Your eyes dart to Rachel, who’s caught between a smile and an awkward purse of her lips. “Fuck! This is huge, David.”
“Yeah—okay, yeah, it is.” David shifts in his seat and crosses, then uncrosses, his legs, then his arms. He stutters for a second. “Good and bad news, remember?”
You blink a few times. You’d nearly totally forgotten the fact that this good news—and it is overwhelmingly good—comes with a bout of bad news, so bad apparently that it’s noteworthy enough to state alongside this massive deal. But it’s. Fine. It’s whatever. Worst case scenario, you’re going to need to fucking swim to Europe sans oxygen canister.
“So… the shows? Events, and shit?” He watches, waiting for you to signal that you follow. When you nod, he continues, averting his gaze to the face of his Patek. “They’re all in Monaco.”
Wrong.
“Monaco.” You repeat, deadpanning your delivery. It’s not out of the ordinary, the glitz and coast of the city being a perfect venue for high fashion. But Monaco is different for you, vastly different, and you tend to avoid the place to the best of your abilities. “Monaco. Are—you’re sure?”
“Mmm,” he hums in affirmation. “I know, I know you’re not exactly privy to Monaco because, bleh, childhood shit, whatever. But this—like you said, this is huge! And I don’t think we should jeopardize that.” He pulls a piece of paper from the folders tucked in his arm and waves it around.
“Well—yeah, I suppose. I’ll deal with it.”
“Yeah.” He sucks his teeth, eyes gliding over the scenery of L.A. that your window offers. “Okay, that’s it, so. Byeandhaveagoodlunch.” He slams the paper onto your desk, jostling you a little, but as he makes his exeunt, Rachel raises her arm to stop him.
“Is that it, David?” She asks, an edge to her voice.
You pick up the paper as they make hushed, stifled conversation, and find that it’s a call sheet of sorts, listing all the collaborators traveling to Monaco and what or who they’re in charge of, or paired up with, there. Models, athletes, celebrities, influencers—all making TikToks, or appearances, or brand deals, or interviews, or YouTube videos, the whole shebang.
“Yeah,” says David dismissively—nervously? “That’s it.”
You search for your name. “Okay. Um, hey.” Rachel turns to you, trying to catch your eye, which is busy scanning the sheet. “Did, um—did David mention you’re paired up with Charles Leclerc for a feature? Because you are. Paired up with Charles Leclerc for a feature, I mean.”
David sucks his teeth. “Thank you very much for graciously reminding me of that, Rachel.” 
Still half-distracted and growing increasingly worried with the exchange happening in front of you, you make haste in your search—eventually, you find your name, printed in plain letters beside one you’ve wished to never read over ever again.
“Wait, my Charles?” You pause and look up, suppressing a yell as your eyes widen, and you blunder over a pathetic self-correction. “I mean—no, sorry—Charles, as in Charles Leclerc? I can’t work with him, you know this!” 
“Wh—well, Vogue apparently wanted a really good Monaco-born pair and they seriously lucked out on you two. Also,” Rachel says, adamantly defending herself, “you’re always saying you can work ‘with anyone’!” She raises two comically vigorous air quotes to further her (moot) point.
“I didn’t ev—I never say that,” you lie straight through your teeth, mouth dry. You definitely do. You can place all the exact moments. “I would’ve known if I did. Rach—David—I cannot, absolutely cannot work with Leclerc. He’s my… we…” You shut your eyes and sneak two fingers upward to massage your temple, slowly caving into defeat.
David makes an oh well face and shrugs passively. “Fine. Then it’s either Anna Wintour’s special job that will help the Academy campaign or not meeting the ex-bo—”
“—friend.” You look up to cut him off, eyes narrowed. “Ex-friend.”
“Alright, kid. Suuuure.” David leans against the back wall of your office as Rachel comes to comfort you, her eyes already sympathetic and droopy. It shouldn’t be so bad, right? She asks sweetly, nudging the latte closer to your catatonic figure. You have seen him since, anyway.
With a despondent gaze, you just remain silent, refusing to state the negative aloud, opting to stare at the latte. At your disagreeable silence, Rachel continues, tone anxious: You have seen him since. Right?
You moved out of Monaco at fourteen, right after the school year finished and your father had gotten the opportunity to transfer out. The whole thing would’ve—should’ve, even—been a sentimental affair, full of tears and dramatic caresses of your bedroom wall, whispering thank yous to the city air in French and Italian, but it wasn’t. Months prior, you’d been preparing yourself for this kind of goodbye; but when it came to it, you merely kissed your extended family goodbye and slept en route to the airport, silk sleeping mask pulled taut over your shut eyelids. The only thing you left in the city was a letter written only to Gi and Cha about how much you’d miss them, with your email address scribbled at the bottom for an added touch, in case they felt like sending you longer messages.
“Do you two at least get along?” David asks, noting how genuinely aghast you appear.
“It’s not that simple.” You tap a nail against your desk a few times. “But I think it’ll be fine. I hope, at least. We used to be… good friends? As teenagers.”
You feel like an alien hearing yourself talk about it, talk about him and the whole circumstance a decade later. Your friendship with Charles was the only thing that mattered to your adolescent self, all lemonade stands and long car rides and stealthy conversations about your futures (racing and acting, respectively). It was happiness, in what you consider to be its truest form, it was lovely and real. And it ended abruptly, no goodbyes, no nothing.
“So it’s a no.”
“I’m just saying it’s impossible for me to work with him, and in Monaco no less?!” Your eyes are wild with frustration and anxiety at the prospect of your past whipping you in the face, full-fledged. “I don’t even talk about the guy or the city, how can I spend time with him there?”
“Are you seriously going to junk this amazing fucking opportunity just because of some petty childhood fight?” David’s tone is comparable to that of a dad’s, scolding and horrified, almost. “Look. If you don’t take this, career-wise, it doesn’t mean much. You get paid a shit ton, you’ll survive—you’ll do well. But emotions-wise? Maturity-wise? Be the bigger person and do it—I mean it.”
You stare back at him because you know he’s right. “Maybe it won’t be a big, long feature?” Rachel offers as some advice, some comfort. “If you reject it, his team will know, and so will he.”
And yes, you were fourteen, and yes it was petty and unexplainable even for fourteen—but there was a catalyst to all of this, a reason why the move became easy and forgetting childhood memories became second nature. A reason why you’re selective with who you make contact with from home. A reason why Giada and Charlotte are selective with topics they choose to bring up with you.
So, fuck it, really. That’s how you end up in Monaco, booked for the next three weeks, sharing a studio and public appearances and a 24-hour shoot with the last person you’d ever want to be in a room with. Ten years later—the person still is, and no doubt will always be, Charles Leclerc.
“MAMAN!” Charles’ voice was loud, loud, and so incredibly loud. You followed not far behind, legs running at full speed to try and leap onto his lanky figure and wrap an arm around his head to quiet him. It’d been futile: he ended up at the dining table facing his family with a victorious smile on his pink face. He breathed heavy, waiting for everyone to turn their attention to him.
“Charles,” you chimed in warningly, breathing even harder with the effort you had exerted to chase him from the sidewalk to here. “Don’t.”
“Guess who got the lead spot in the recital.” He slowly turned to point at to your angry face, and then bent, rifling through his already messy, grubby knapsack for something that he raised with glee: a headress that read…
“But-ter-cup.” Hervé sounded amused when he looked at your fuming expression. “You?”
“Yes, Papa! Maybe, just maybe,” he sing-songed, using the term wrong yet again, “she got the titular role!” He walked over to you and placed the headress square on your head, beaming. 
“There is no titular role in a school recital,” you seethed, burning with embarrassment. Your stellar academic record had apparently granted you incentive to be centre stage during the routine year-end recital, where years were lumped into twos or threes (in your and Charles’ cases, Years 8 and 9) and the student body would dance or sing a variety of teacher-selected music.
In your case, it was Build Me Up, Buttercup, complete with choreography you’d be practicing over the next month and a half. Charles laughed at your pouting expression, didn’t stop laughing even when you’d both sat down and twirled through forkfuls of spaghetti, didn’t stop chuckling even when Lorenzo got the turn to speak and he started talking about how Bringing Up Baby was his movie of the month.
You allowed him to laugh—even laughed yourself at some point—because all day, you’d been absently wondering how you’d break the news about your moving away to him.
Charles is not okay. He’d gotten off a red-eye from a short vacation stint, and now he’s back in Monaco, sleepy and a bit jetlagged, being briefed on brand deals and press junkets he has to accomplish by three p.m. today. “On the dot, sharp,” said his assistant, like the two didn’t just mean the same fucking thing. He’s patient, though, smiling through the exhaustion, through the dressing room, the tape around his waist and legs to measure clothes for this fashion… thing.
“A meeting for Ferrari, two TikToks, a vlog for your personal YouTube channel, three stories by noon… oh, and in the next few weeks, you’re going to film a Vogue-sponsored 24 Hours With… with—”
“D’accord, thank you,” he cuts in, already exhausted from the spiel alone. He’s a professional; no matter what people believed or what gossip rags liked to say about him, he maintains a well-kept reputation of being polite and kind to people he works with. Maybe it’s the jetlag, maybe it’s the lack of sleep, maybe it’s the heat outside, but today he just wants to close his eyes and sleep for days.
But the assistant follows, clipboard and Excel sheet and all, still spouting all his media obligations lest he forget (and mark his words, he definitely will). “Sorry,” he says. He’s new, probably assigned as a part of the Vogue team, lanky and tall and nervous looking. “I’m new. I’m Greg.”
Briefly, Charles is left alone to stare at his tired reflection while the assistants reconvene and connect. There’s several of them, each assigned or already committed to a different celebrity. Charles should know more details, but there’s only so much reading of a call sheet he can do before he’s conked out on Ambien; he trusts he’ll be around people much more famous than he is, probably American or English, actors and athletes alike. He’ll figure it out.
Yeah, she’s almost ready. Is Charles here? One of the assistants says, a bright-eyed American. They need to be introduced before 11. Her voice is quiet, quick and hushed, and Charles has to focus to hear what she’s saying. Greg chips in with something he can’t decipher; in response, the American whispers, Yeah, I’ll get her to sign it for you. Bring Charles out in five.
In five, he is indeed being brought out to the lobby of this hotel; the outdoor area is decked out with models, cocktail tables, Vogue signage and a carpet for pictures. It’s even busier inside, wait staff and event coordinators conversing in angry, aggressive French—table settings, mineral water, extra forks are needed. Greg keeps a steady pace transporting Charles through the indoor throng, and at 10:59, Charles is outside, by the pool.
“Um, right, yeah. Okay, uh—wait here. Your partner—not really partner, but like, mate? Fuck, definitely not. Um, partner. She’s on her way heeere…” He checks his phone. “Okay. You caught her name, right?” Charles nods to fend him off. “Okay. So, wait here.”
There are cameras taking pictures of him when Greg departs, some microphones waved his way; in the distance he spots fans waving crazily, sporting Ferrari merch. Charles is doing what he’s told (waiting, maybe posing a bit) when an even bigger crowd appears, surrounding one person; with their arrival, ameras click even faster, and an uproar follows. Greg waves him over, pointing at the person frantically, so Charles smiles, extends a hand, and when the crowd parts—
There you are, in all your glory. Pink dress, hair clipped into a bun, a tanline on your exposed skin, lithe hand coming up to shake his. Your eyes are flat but the lack of expression doesn’t inoculate them from beauty; they remain sparkling and pretty all the same. Cameras snap the interaction, seemingly innocent, seemingly the first.
He fights, he really does, to keep his hands shaking yours. He forces himself not to hug you, press a kiss to your cheek even if that might look friendly, caress a hand across your cheekbone, brush the tendrils of hair out of your eyes. It’s a valiant effort.
A valiant effort that pays off because, as soon as you’re ushered into a room by yourselves, your smile turns into a scoff; your hands are kept to yourself, slipping a pair of sunglasses on, and; underneath them, your eyes begin to roll. “I need a drink,” you huff, not even looking at him. 
You’re on two couches opposite each other, in what he assumes to be a foyer to a hotel room that’s much bigger than the one he was in earlier. A-list fame and that. The girl he’d seen earlier scurries off, mumbling something about a martini. Greg, beside him, goes: “Do you need a drink, too?” But he shakes his head.
“Are you voluntarily working for this guy, Greg?” You refer to his assistant by name, offering a sarastic, honeyed smile. You adjust the strap of your dress and he blinks his gaze away.
“Oh, no. I mean—yeah. Kind of. I was assigned to him.”
“It’s okay, I don’t expect you to do it of your own will,” you joke, crossing your legs.
Charles laughs dryly. “Who asked?”
“So he speaks…” You ping off his retort without missing a beat, a sardonic smile playing at your lips. 
“In the two minutes we’ve been around each other, you’ve insulted me and my assistant. I’d prefer silence, your highness.”
“Aww, did my joke and asking Greg a question piss you off?” You suck your teeth. “You must be fun at parties.”
“Do you two, um. I don’t want to, like, overstep, but do you know each other?” Charles notices that Greg’s forearm is signed by you and realizes he has no allies here, with an inward grimace. “Or if you don’t, like, are you two just… not in good moods or something?”
The girl comes in then, saying here’s the martini and catering you a sweaty glass with a smile. You offer up the empty space beside you, patting the white leather for her to sit down on. Your eyes meet his again briefly, catty and a bit challenging, before you turn back to the girl. “Sit.”
Maybe Charles spends too much time with Max, because he’s starting to become more and more inclined to getting the last word in lately. “Bossing people around, eh? Fame really does change you.” He offers a smile of his own.
“She’s my assistant, Rachel,” you say sweetly, but your smile is gritty. “We need to check my schedule.”
He wants to slap himself. “Too busy to open your calendar?” Nevermind, he’s a god.
Your sarcastic smile drops. “And what’s on yours? P6 this week, P7 next, DNF after?”
Fuck. The tension is so thick at this point, it’s almost steaming hot. Both the assistants stare at you, waiting for Charles to wedge something in, but he bites himself back. Thankfully, right as the silence just begins to settle like oil on water, the door swings open and one of the coordinators steps in, noisily rattling off the week’s plans and proclaiming you’re both free for the remainder of the day before things pick back up—Schiaparelli show at noon, both of you, front row—tomorrow.
The four of you filter out of the room, and you make a quip about your autograph on Greg’s arm, which grants your assistant some face time with Charles. She turns to him, combing a hand through her hair and furrowing her thick eyebrows. “Hey, I’m Rachel, by the way.”
“Charles.”
“I know,” she says sheepishly. “Listen. I know you two have history, she—we—she’s, um, told me about it before. I don’t know the whole story, and I’m not… like, I’m not saying I do, so I respect it, whatever it is. But I hope you can find it in you to work with her properly. It’s a huge gig for you both. So—yeah, uh. Great job, and good luck.”
She smiles with a nod before exiting the room, leaving Charles alone and stirring with thoughts and memories woken from wild unrest.
“Alors,” Charles had said, not turning from his position in front of your vanity mirror. He’d been picking at his face, stopping only when you tsked at him not to. “What is the problem?” His eyes flicked over to you, your lying figure on the bed exhaling little puffs of frustrated air to the ceiling. “Are you missing the recital?”
“Quoi? Non.” You gnawed at your lip, accepting your defeat. You couldn’t lie for much longer, not when you’d been keeping this under wraps for two months. “Listen. Charles.” He nodded, clearly preoccupied with something. “Charles.”
“Hmm?”
“Can you ple—look at me.” Your voice hardened.
He’d noticed it then, the curt cutoff of your voice, the absent look in your eyes. He knows you even through a mirror, even in the low light of your room. “Desolé. This pimple won’t go away.”
“Charles,” you said, groaning but allowing yourself to laugh. “Listen.”
“Okay.” He turned to face you, a spot on his chin red from how long he’d been scratching at it.
You shrugged then, suddenly scared to deal with the realness of it all. You didn’t understand why you felt so torn. “It’s something to do with me,” you said.
“Yeah.”
“I’m moving.” You rubbed at your nose, the cold draft coming in through the window causing you to sniffle. “Out of Monaco.”
A beat. “What?”
You closed your fingers around your necklace, scratching absently at the divots of the pendant. One, two, three little dips in the gold locket, tiny but comforting. “Yeah. In a few months, like, after school. It’s Papa—his job. It’s a whole thing.”
“Europe?” You shook your head. America.
“What… well, what does that mean, then?” His expression didn’t waver but if anything did, it was his eyes—desperate, seeking more answers, wanting them with a guttural, belly-deep desire. You’re his best friend, so if he has to let you go in this life, he at least needs to know everything about the move. 
“We’ll keep in touch,” you reassured, kicking your leg to further your point. “You were bound to get busy with karting anyway, so it’s like. Ça revient au même.”
“It isn’t the same,” he said, his voice thin and cracking. 
“You’ll be fine.”
“You have a very misguided idea of who I am.”
“Shut up. Come off it,” you laughed, sitting up straighter. “We’ll call everyday, and I’ll meet all the famous people who’ll get me a real acting job, and I’ll come for the holidays or summer or something. Things won’t change. Not that much, at least.”
“Maybe, just maybe.” He pauses. “Will you be here for my birthday, at least?” He’d made a big deal all year of his turning sixteen on the sixteenth.
“Charles,” you sighed. 
“No, yeah. I get it.” He looked down, rubbing his thumbs together, like he’s just been hit across the face. He will tell you one day it felt infinitely more painful than that. But at the time he shook his head and looked up at you, reached his pinky to yours, a thin slip of paper around the finger that matched your interlocked one, and didn’t say anything else.
Just: “We’ll be okay.”
You could pin a lot of adjectives on Monaco: picturesque, without a doubt; warm, glamorous, but you’d sooner die than pin the word home over it. The city is sprawling even with the little surface area it possesses, and only few things seem familiar. Your lodging is a hotel in Monte-Carlo, a penthouse suite that requires you to travel very little. It feels like a vacation.
And you embody the role of a vacationer very well—the first five, six days of your stay in Monaco went great, mainly appearances that lasted a few hours at most and several junkets to promote Vogue and your latest film, before you were free to do whatever you wished. You’d gone the touristy route already: shopping more times than you could count, trying your immense luck at the casinos, and eating at Michelin-starred restaurants; eventually all the fun blurred into each other and you found solace in naps instead.
Your troubles are not far behind, however, and they finally come after you on Day 7. The event coordinators had informed Rachel, who in turn informed you, that the first of next week’s agenda would be a photographed tour of the Musée Océanographique de Monaco, a grand seaside building right at the edge of the water. Today is, apparently, a day for you to “fraternize with” Charles, which meant you would once again need to put a façade over your less-than-kind appearance toward him.
Those are the concluding words of David’s very firm text, encouraging (read: coercing) you to settle things with Charles into some approximation of civility. You resolve things by calling him to skip over the awkwardness that comes with texting. It takes you all of twenty minutes and twice your body weight in courage to press the green telephone button.
“B’jour,” he goes, his voice quick. French people (he will hate that you called him French, even if it was just in your head; you relish in this) always talk rapidly. After some silence, he clears his throat: “Hello?”
Butterflies—some form of them, whatever—flutter in your stomach. “It’s me.”
He drops formalities and adopts a disinterested voice. “Huh. What do you want?” The butterflies have rotted to death.
“I need to talk to you.”
“To insult me again?” He sounds a little amused even over the phone, a breath of laughter landing in your ear. “Bah, I get it. We are enemies. You have no interest in reconnecting, et cetera. C’est tout ce que tu as à dire? I gotta go.”
Your face warms at his accusatory tone. “Wow, leave it to a guy to be charming, huh?”
“Why should I be charming with you?”
“At least be polite,” you taunt, but your voice lacks its usual edge. On the other line, Charles lets his own defiant tone ebb downward.
At least be polite. It’s the least he can owe you after ten years of forgetting. It wasn’t as if you two had a mutual agreement then, in 2013 when you moved away, to stop becoming friends. For months before you moved out, he completely stopped talking to you, like he’d forgotten you two were even connected, were even friends. What little words you two shared became petty and abrasive, and suddenly Monaco lost its color. The closeness you had with him, which for so long you’d convinced yourself was once-in-a-lifetime, was ripped from you, robbed from you—by him, no less, which hurt all the more. You’d given up on finding out why at some point. You waited for him to reach out. Maybe, you told yourself, just maybe, it would take a few months, a year.
Ten years of radio silence. He owes you that: politeness.
“It doesn’t matter,” you say to nobody in particular, in an effort to segue into the topic of your choosing. “Look, we’re supposed to be friends. In… on camera, at least. It’s disastrous if we look like we, you know, hate each other. We need to be professional.”
“For the cameras,” he says back, solemn.
“Yeah.” You wind a finger through your hair. “Just… for the sake of civility.”
You hear his little hums of consideration. “D’accord,” he says after a few minutes. “Truce, then.”
“Sure.” You smile a little. “I have to go.”
You were halfway through your mess of clothes when your mum peeked through your door, her hair held back by a headband. “Call you yet, poppet?” 
“Non,” you said, decimating your voice to a monotonous murmur. You looked up from the dress you’d been folding and offer a half-hearted, sardonic smile. “Je t’ai dit qu’il ne le ferait pas.” You were right: he wouldn’t call. What difference did a month make, anyway? This time, though, the usual victory of being right settled into an ugly disappointment in the pit of your stomach.
You wanted so badly to be wrong. To clamber to the telephone, to your Skype, to your cellphone, any of the three, and see his name flashed across the helm or his voice in your ear. Maybe he was dialing your number now, to ask if you wanted to grab dinner after the year-end recital, or to update you on karting, or to tell you Pascale wanted lunch.
She could tell, as all mothers can, that you’d been upset. The knit in your brows that didn’t go away, the bottom lip being chewed, the tight clutch of your fingers over the already-folded dress. She sighed. “I’m sorry, baby.” 
“It’s fine.” Your voice came out sharper than you intended and you have to roll it back, recede it, to sound more relaxed, more at ease. “It’s… fine. I’m fine.” She knew better than to pry, closing the door softly to continue packing up the living room.
You heaved a dry sigh to express the nausea that came with his absence. It began a month ago, two days after you first told him about it and poked at the zit on his chin. He’d buried his head in your shoulder until tears seeped into the cotton sleeve of your shirt, and you let him. You felt guilty, after all, for keeping it a secret for so long. You would leave in September, you told him. We have time.
Two days later he walked you home as always, on the “dangerous” side of the street, lanky legs skipping to the tree in front of your house. You pointed at the beginnings of clementines on its dewy branches, smiling, inviting him in, but he remained leaning against the trunk, playing with his mop of hair that covered his forehead.
“Bah, trop dramatique,” you said, poking fun. Lorenzo had showed you both some art house films he studied in class, and with the bout of French cinema, you and Charles had grown obsessed with making fun of overdramatic stills that often included the classic leaning-against-a-surface. “Come on, Mum made bouillabasse, I smell it.”
“We need to talk,” he eked out awkwardly. “I have something important to tell you.”
You dropped your knapsack, leather scratching against the concrete of the steps to the front door as you walked over to him. “Ouais?”
“I…” His lips moved, wobbled, but nothing left, so he shut them and his eyes, like he was considering something. His breathing slowed into one rhythm you find yourself unconsciously matching, just two kids looking at each other in the dusky breeze of Monaco, the orange sun casting shadows over the clementine tree. You closed your hand over his, a tight clamp over his knobby wrist with certainty. “I…”
“Say it.”
“I want to.” His eyes were shut. Exhale. Inhale, open. “I… I’m going… going home.”
You breathed out apprehensively and relaxed. “Oh.” You blinked. “That’s it?”
“Ye—ouais. Yeah. I gotta.” Already he was climbing to the gate, waving a half-hearted goodbye. “Save some for me, oui? Bye.”
“Charles,” you warned after him, voice tinged with concern. “That’s it, promise?” Your hand flexed around air.
“Cross my heart!” The last thing he ever said with any bit of something genuine.
You reunite with Charles at a meeting; under the guise of your truce, he makes the barely-necessary small talk. The rest of the staff file out of the restaurant in due time, but you both stay. You ask about Lorenzo and Arthur, leaving out questions you’d rather not listen to him answer, and he tells you they’re both alright. That his mum asks about you sometimes. That makes you smile. He asks if you’re still dating the guy you’d most recently been partnered with in Us Weekly.
“God, no. We never even dated, the… um, tabloids always make shit up.” You purse your lips. “Anyway. Is Lorenzo still in film?” You ask, turning your head a little. You don’t think you’ll ever forget his affinity for cinema.
“Not professionally, but I still sit through hours-long… you know, reviews, and stuff.” He laughs when he sees you laugh, eyes half-closed and meeting the ceiling.
“He introduced me to some of my favorite movies, especially when I got into acting and I was kind of… like, I wanted some inspiration, acting-wise. But not my actual favorite movie.”
“Which is?” He segues into a more personal topic. “Is it still Bambi?”
“Oh, it was, for the longest time!” You almost squeal with excitement. “Not anymore, though. It’s been dethroned, ha ha. I think it’s… I’d say it’s maybe Casablanca now.”
“How American.”
“Shut up.” Your face warms. “It’s so romantic. When he says—when he goes, um. We’ll always have Paris. And then, God—when Ilsa goes, I said I would never leave you—and Rick goes, And you never will… isn’t it so classic? Romance movies nowadays are—I, I, I… I get scripts sent to me that are just so bad, and they’re either too idealistic or too pessimistic, or too indie or too commercial, and.” You sigh. “It’s like nobody gets love right anymore.”
“Us Weekly disagrees,” he says weakly, after a period of silence.
“Stop,” you laugh warningly. “And don’t act like you’re not being paired up with different girls, too.”
For a minute you sit with the realization that you’ve both been keeping tabs on each other all these years, even just a little bit. It’s a bit jarring, it’s a bit warm, it’s a lot confusing. You make a move to ask for the bill but Charles is quicker, opens his mouth to implore your presence.
“Come see me tonight.” He says it like he didn’t mean to, like it escaped him on a whim, a blurted out confession born out of your memories and conversation. His voice is dreamy, faraway. “Earth to…?”
“Wh—sorry. Fuck.” You clear your throat and deduce your next words. “Where?”
“I’ll text you. A club, near your hotel.”
“Yeah… yeah, sure.” You hum an affirming noise. 
Your name is on the list, though you’re sure it doesn’t matter whether or not it was. No ID is needed, and paps catch a bouncer being dispatched to guide you through the nightclub toward the elevated area with significantly less people. It’s low-lit, smoky, vaguely blue and purple, smelling of flows of alcohol and fresh ice. An Azealia Banks song is playing, pounding through your head.
Tabloids don’t care about nightclubs. They care if you come out drunk or with a smidge of snow under your nose, neither of which have happened to you; entering is fair game, a fun affair, especially in a district like Monte-Carlo. You don’t have any explaining to do, not even to questions like are you clubbing with your professional Vogue collaborator, Charles Leclerc?
The collaborator in question is the first to greet you, getting up and approaching you with a smile so obviously tense. The picture in front of him is like if he’d conjured up a forlorn fantasy of his to life—your hair fell loosely over black lace, a hand pinched around the hem of your dress. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“So.” He realizes he’s in charge of the socializing, and turns to properly introduce you. “Um, guys, this is my—friend—you already know”—he fusses over your name, which everyone in the world knows, anyway—“and these are my friends. Pierre, Alex, George, Lando, Daniel… you know Joris.” He points to each guy's face as he goes, eliciting a beam every time he gestures.
You wave with a polite smile before you station yourself beside the only one you know: Joris, with whom Charles shares a longtime friendship. He greets you first, with a side hug. “Long time.”
“Yeah, it’s been.” You watch him turn toward the low table, and back around with two shots, offering them to you with haste.
You thank the Lord that he makes quick, dextrous work of it, and before long you’ve downed a glass or three of some strawberry four seasons thing, socializing with the different people around the table. One of them, Lando, talks about your latest film for five whole minutes (“I rated it five stars on Letterboxd. I left a review, if you wanna see”) before he leans close and asks: “Are you his girlfriend?” His is obviously referencing Charles, and you pull back from the proximity to shake your head.
“No,” you holler to emphasize it. “We used to know each other. I grew up here.”
“Oh shit! Native!” He whoops, offering you another glass. This must be your fifth, maybe, fifth G&T or Cosmo or something or other of the night. You take it, drinking as you walk, planning to collect your bag to take with you to the bathroom—another hand takes yours, though, dragging you down the steps. Halfway through, you realize it’s Charles.
“How’s the drink?” He asks, brows straight.
“That’s all you wanted to ask?” You raise your voice above the bass. “Someone needs to teach you fucking… proper small talk.” A laugh involuntarily bubbles past your lips, eyes crinkling. 
He laughs, too, despite himself. “Non, I was—I was just asking. We should—I brought you over here to—so we could…” He realizes he’s been talking too fast without getting to the point and pauses, resetting himself with a pinched sigh. “Dance.”
Your heart pulses. Dance? You hear yourself ask. For wh…Why?
“For the sake of the truce.” His voice is light. “We should try being closer.”
“We were close once,” you say, loose. “Did you forget?”
He’s looking right at you, and you’re warm all over. “How could I?”
It feels too real. Not the words—yes the words—but the alcohol, the alcohol is what you’re referring to, and all those shots and drinks suddenly seem not as harmless as they’d seemed earlier. You scan the periphery for the WC sign and try your best not to look deranged on your way there, offering the same pretty smile to recognizing passersby. Behind you, Charles calls out; but you wave him off, heaving dryly.
The restroom is clean because the nightclub is outrageously expensive; you push yourself into the available stall that’s in your direct path and crumple above it. You heave. Heave some more. Nothing comes. The nausea rises and recedes, so you decide to wait it out.
The bathroom door hauls open, bringing with it a few seconds of noise before it swings heavily onto the frame again, sealing the sterile silence. The momentary return of the bass from the dance floor sends your head spinning all over again and you freeze, willing yourself not to wind up hurling your guts into the toilet. It’s a futile effort, though, because you’re feeling nauseated beyond your limit again, and you need water and maybe a salve or something.
“This stall is open,” somebody says, a chipper American voice that grows in volume as it nears you. A gasp follows, and then: “Oh, my God. Are you okay?”
You turn, your face flushed and lips parted. “I’m so sorry. I just—I’ve been nauseous all night.”
“I have water,” she answers, reaching her arm outward, as if seeking it. “Carmen, the water!” A bottle of Evian is thrust into her hand by another girl (Carmen, you presume), and she doesn’t hesitate to bend next to you to feed it into your mouth. She stares for a second, then goes: “On the off chance I’m lucky, and you’re the famous actress, by the way, I just want to say I’m a huge fan of your work.”
Eyes wide, you lock eyes with her and pull away from the water. “Oh, God. Yeah, that’s me. I’m so sorry—this is so humiliating.”
“It’s not—it’s normal,” she assures, nodding. “We’ve all… y’know, puked into a club toilet before.” From the stall doorframe, Carmen nods. “What’d you drink?”
“Fruity stuff,” you recall, eyebrows knitting at the memory. “And shots.”
They both grimace at the same time, knowing the exact feeling, the exact taste, it seems. “Are you heartbroken or something?” Carmen asks; Lily shoots her a look that can only really mean don’t ask the world-famous actress if she’s heartbroken. But you laugh it off, shaking your head.
“No. There’s a guy, though, and he’s… we’re… it’s a lot. I think I thought alcohol would absorb all of it, but… clearly, it did not.” Your lips simmer into a straight line and you’re quiet for a few moments before remembering you’re on a dingy club floor being supported by two nice girls who are strangers. “Anyway! Sorry. I’m clearly, um, delirious.” You get up on semi-wobbly feet, swallowing the nausea as you go. 
You walk to the sink, and behind your back, the girl and Carmen share a telepathic exchange (should we ask her to elaborate? Yes! Should we really? Fuck, no.) You rinse your mouth out, washing your hands and focusing on your reflection—your tired eyes, your smudged lip gloss, your fussed-up hair. You turn after rinsing, offering a small smile. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” says the first girl, offering her hand and a tube of lip gloss. “I’m Lily, by the way. And just so you know—I’m so sure that guy has nothing on you.” Carmen, beside her, nods in solidarity, and your heart blooms.
Your smile grows as your hand shakes hers, accepting the lip gloss. “You’re too kind. Thank y—” 
“Lil? Baby, are you puking?” Comes a disembodied male voice from the door, ajar ever so slightly. Lily visibly cringes and walks over to the door, pulling it open further. On the other side—the detective of sorts—happens to be Alex, who you’d been introduced to a few hours ago. At the sight of you, his eyes widen with recognition. 
“We’re fine. Leave us alone,” replies Lily in a conspiratorial whisper. “Carmen and I have a new friend.” She doesn’t even need to drop your name; your face alone is enough to make people recognize who you are.
Alex, however, refuses to admit defeat. “Try harder next time.” He pumps his eyebrows. “We were introduced earlier.” He looks up and waves to demonstrate his truth; when you smile back, Lily’s jaw drops as she turns to her boyfriend again, aghast.
“What the hell? How?” A pause. “No offense. It’s like. Two levels of fame, right there.”
He makes a pinched face. “She’s Charles’… friend? I don’t—coworker? Something, something. They were both vague about it. Actually, George and I were talking about it, and we both think something is up. With them.”
“Wait—you might be right.” Her eyes are hyperfocused, and her voice drops to a whisper for a second. “Let’s talk about it at the hotel.”
You and Carmen watch their hushed exchange, and eventually Alex leaves you three alone again with a loud goodbye, which allows Lily to rejoin your conversation. “Sorry,” she says with a smile. “That was my boyfriend, Alex. I didn’t know you two were introduced! He told me you knew Charles?”
“Oh.” Your shoulders relax. “Yeah, um. We knew each other as kids, but I moved away and we kind of—we drifted apart, so. I’m here on a business trip, and he’s just welcoming me.” You try to reduce the decade-long mess into a sentence.
“So you’re friends?”
“Yeah.” You feel like vomiting all over again. 
The sky’s a searing blue at noon, silver clouds lining the horizon. Charles has to press a finger to the high point of his cheek to test if he’s sunburned from the heat, and the cameras catch it; he doesn’t doubt the fans will spin that into something cute later. You’re somewhere else on the property, this big, massive thing of a museum that’s crashed into by the waves.
He remembers Andrea first telling him about this whole arrangement. He and the team had deliberately left out any mention of you, like they could predict the immediate veto. He wonders if you knew, or if you, too, had been surprised when seeing him, a ghost of your past looking into your eyes. He wonders if you, too, are now in this endless emotional turmoil. Inside there’s a photoshoot ongoing, with you but also with some models in varying aquatic-related poses to convey the intent of the building; he’s done his share of pictures already, just needs to sit down with you for an interview. 
“And a B-roll of you guys, um, like, walking, like—around?” Greg’s voice invades his head again, the nervous man beside him running through a to-do list like this is boot camp.
You’d left him hanging at the club—he couldn’t blame you though. A truce hardly called for the bringing forth of memories you two are now supposed to have buried beneath you. Memories he buried first. But alcohol had loosened him, and maybe you had, too, your eyes in the vaguely bluish light and your smile.
He wishes to apologize. He makes up some excuse and finds you nursing an Evian by a faraway corner, against a screen of stingrays. Your eyes widen when you see him, in recognition. He waves and then, with a thumb, gestures to the catering outside.
You end up by the water eating one of the caterer’s churros, a recommendation he deems “very special.” (“Have you worked with these caterers before?” “No.”) It’s also his excuse to cheat on his diet and eat a churro or three—chocolate dip included, always. You rave over the taste, smile, enjoy the view. Charles realizes this looks deceivingly like a date, and at the same time realizes he would not stop to correct someone if they assumed so.
“Our truce seems to be working.” You say in-between chews, voice flat but eyes bright.
“It seems so. I owe that to my personality.”
You really laugh at that. “I didn’t know you had one. It’s very fit for someone as unapproachable as I am.”
“Who said that?”
“No, noth—nobody.” You comb a lock of hair behind your ear. “Aw, putain. I’m ruining my lipstick. Pat’s going to kill me. I look awful.” There are no reflective surfaces around you to affirm your statement, but you sound so sure of yourself.
He smiles. He enjoys the illusion, the mask that you two seem to wear, albeit involuntarily. The chocolate syrup he squeezes on your little paper box of churros. The muttered back merci when he’s finished. Your flushed face, eyes darting from the delicacy to the ocean, eyelashes fluttering, lips smiling, curving into a laugh at some random realization. Briefly he imagines what he might tell somebody if they stopped to ask if you were dating.
Some old woman, French accent and short in stature. You two are so cute. Si mignon! And she would ask how you two met. Charles would tell her the story. But that is imagination. He blinks out of it and focuses on the beauty in front of him, so very real.
“No. You are very pretty, you know.” He says then, and it’s taken him all his nerves and then some just to wrangle it out of his mouth and past his lips. Anticipatory, he watches you, waits for your response.
You comb the hair out of your face messily, licking over the cinnamon sugar on your lips; then you smile up at him, turning your head in question. “Sorry,” you laugh, and his heart’s frozen because it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard. “What did you say?”
The wind roars in his ears, so Charles barely hears himself when he says, stuttering, “What? Nothing, I said nothing.”
You make a face—confused, suspicious—but all your allegations quell once you bite into another churro, stepping yourself a path along the area. Having blocked off the building, production staff and models are all that populate your surroundings, big headphones and even bigger cameras, rolling around racks of monochrome and Hermés, Birkins to match Loro Pianas. It’s easy to get lost in a crowd—in a city—where everyone looks the same, and knows the other’s name. Perhaps that’s also why, even at fourteen, you were excited to leave, he thinks.
“The coast was always my favorite part about the city.”
He notices. The way your eyes have softened, become more fond than when you’re in the centre of it all, in the bustle. Here it’s busy, but less busy; the distinction, perhaps, matters. Your gaze is not one of distaste, of disdain. It’s nostalgic, homesick, yearning. He supposes he describes this gaze so well because it’s the way he catches himself looking at you over the week. 
“I wanted to…” He trails off. “I wanted to talk to you because, ah. I’m sorry. It was foolish of me to put you on the spot last night. I should’ve been more… yeah. I’m sorry. I hope you’re okay.”
You stare at the sea and nod quietly. Instead of responding, you launch a story: “I always…” You’re clearly lost in a different sphere of thought, and you have to fall quiet while finding the right words to say. “I remember, um. In Year 3, we—I came here with my mum. And I was super mad, because I got, like, three mistakes on my Maths paper?” You laugh and he does, too, but more because your storytelling is so effortlessly enthralling and funny and he needs to shut himself up.
“Anyway.” You pace around again, and he follows. “So, I’m mad, and she’s trying to cheer me up, buys me glace and everything, but no. So I go sit myself on a random bench. It must’ve been around here, I think.” You look around and point at an empty area. “There. But it’s—they must’ve ripped it out. Whatever. So yeah, I’m sitting there, and moping, and all of a sudden All You Need is Love by The Beatles comes blaring into the entire area.”
Charles’ eyebrows knit confusedly. “What, the bench area?”
“No—the whole pier, I guess? Like, it was loud, I almost jumped. And then this guy comes in holding this huge—this, um, board? Sign? Poster? And he’s got half the pier in on his whole thing, and I’m totally… it was just… yeah.” You smile. It’s the biggest smile he’s seen on you since you got here and the fact that he’s even around to see it gets him all warm.
“So what happened?”
“It was a flash mob. You know those—yeah, they’re usually insufferable, but that one was a little calmer. Nobody was, you know, dancing and yelling. It was just a bunch of people cheering and all, and the guy was actually proposing to his girlfriend. It was so cute.” You sigh a little, a brief exhale of air, and it turns into a smile. “I’d love that.”
He raises his eyebrows and, despite himself, laughs. “Vraiment?” 
You turn to him, ready to defend yourself, mid-laugh. “Heeey. Everyone says they find big, romantic gestures cheesy, but I think deep down, if you trust the person enough, you’ll like it. Maybe not a proposal, though—can you imagine the pressure?” You pause. “But I don’t know. There’s something so nice about just knowing that person loves you so much they think it’s worth it to share it to everyone around you. So even if it’s cheesy, I wouldn’t mind much. You?”
“It’s cheesy for me,” he disagrees, shrugging. “But I see your point.” Truth be told, he didn’t see you as a romantic type—but all he’s ever seen you do lately is work, and even back in childhood, all you ever did was study. He likes learning these little facts, ones you wouldn’t share in interviews—likes knowing you feel comfortable enough to share with him. “Dancing is a bit overboard.”
“Oh, definitely.” You throw your head back to laugh, eyes half-shut and crinkled and reflecting the sun. Would you look the same if he was dancing to The Beatles, proclaiming all the words he hasn’t had the courage to say?
Next question is who your first love was—we’re rolling in three…
“First love?” You laughed a little, facing the camera to continue your Screen Test interview with W. The questions had been candid and lovely, but they were about your career, which you answered with familiar ease. First love is different—uncharted, private territory. But you’d realized all this too late, and the director called go, and you let words spill out of you like a bag popped open.
“I want to be funny and witty and say acting, but that would be a lie. Um, my first love was a childhood friend. We lived near each other, our parents were friends, and I… I really did, I liked him a lot. But these—there were so many factors at tension with each other, like me moving away in 2013—that’s, what, six years ago now? And us being young and not really knowing how to communicate. When you’re a teenager, you’re kind of just like, oh, no worries, um, that’ll sort itself out, and then you grow up and look back and realize, these things never do. But I miss him a, a, a… a lot, and I think of him always.” Your smile didn’t reach your eyes when you looked at the camera again. “We learn a lot from childhood loves.”
Cut. Lovely. Just lovely.
“Thank you, Lynn,” you said with a small smile. A pause as silence creeps up onto the room, and then, quieter: “Could we omit that? I—sorry. I could answer anything else. First kiss, or something? I’m sorry, I just. Sorry.” For the first time in five years, you realize, you’ve conjured his memory again.
“Okay. What else do you remember?”
“I… do you remember the recital song?”
“Of course I do! The dance is… that’s a different story.” You’d been at Charles’ hotel room earlier to go over some video shoot regulations for a 24 Hours With video you’re doing in a few days. You stayed because—that’s beyond you at this point, and you’d rather not delve into the rationality of it all. You’re content with thinking about how nice this conversation is, a trip down memory lane.
“The dance, mon dieu, the dance.” He smothers a hand over his face, smiles fondly. “You were at the center!”
“Stop. Stop,” you protest, letting laughter settle into quiet. “It’s crazy, you know? How we… like, we share a life. Not—but like, we had a whole childhood together.” 
“And nobody knows.” It’s not something you keep a secret on purpose—it’s just that neither of you feel like name-dropping the other. Some stories have surfaced, but none of you have fully commented. Somehow, that’s a good thing for you.
“Do people ask?”
“People ask, yes.” His accent is a reminder of your past—you’d once had the same thick wraparound, the loose reign over English you’ve now grown to master. Now your accent is a lot thinner, to the point where it’s barely perceptible, and if it is, your coworkers and fans call it cute, chic, use it as a jumping off point to ask where you grew up. But in this hotel room, legs folded underneath you and glass of wine in hand, you have no coworkers or fans, it feels like; no one to perceive you but Charles. Charles and his accent, nostalgic and so very his, which you wouldn’t describe as anything but home.
“What do you tell them, then?” Quickly, you add: “The truth, or…?”
“That we knew each other as kids,” he says, smiling absently. “That is the truth, no?”
You cover a smile with the rim of your wine glass, nodding. There’s no revisionist history in that statement, but it hides a lot of the truth, the nitty gritty of it. You know it, he knows it, you both know it. “What would you want me to say?” His voice is soft and thin and imploring, so different from the boisterous voice he uses in public, from the slurred voice you heard in the club. This sounds real. This sounds like a conversation you would’ve had years ago in your childhood bedroom before everything went—
“Nothing, that’s fine.” You cut your own reverie off, clearing your throat. You even laugh, to alleviate the tension, but he sees right through you so many years later. “Unless you’re privy to telling people how we didn’t talk for months before I left.”
He blinks, smothers a palm over his face again, and sighs, eyes meeting yours. “I’m sorry. I don’t—I… I’ve wanted to bring it up.”
“I’m not mad.” It’s a half-lie. “Okay, no—I am, a bit. It just—it would’ve been nice to hear it two weeks ago.”
“I know.” He doesn’t even need to say it, but him saying it sends a low thrum of reassurance in you. Charles has found, in the two weeks of being in your company, that he accomplishes a sense of self—a sense of quiet, a sense of privacy—when he’s alone with you. Perhaps it’s your natural ability to bring out the best in people, to talk and loosen tongues and make everyone around you feel safe. Or, and this is on a likely front, maybe he misses being one of those people. 
He pretends he’s back to last week after another club rendezvous left you tipsier than the first time, dropping you off at your hotel room with two hands taut at your shoulders, one pinching a keycard. You’d been muttering something under your breath, stumbling as you went—you weren’t tripping too much, really; he didn’t need to hold you, but he told himself he had to—and leaning against the doorframe of your room, staring at him blankly. When he met your eyes, you said: maybe, just maybe. Just those three words. If he tries to remember right, you’d been smiling, but he was sufficiently tipsy, too, so he could just as well be wrong.
He does remember a few things right. The eyeliner smudged across your lower eye, lipstick smacked to a point where it looked like you wore none, beads of salt by your lip, your hand wrapped around your necklace. 
The silence is anything but awkward; still, he resolves to break it. “When you were drunk last week.” He looks up. “You said—you kept saying, maybe, just maybe.”
A laugh escapes you, stilted and a bit nervous. “Oh. That was—yeah, okay.”
“What’s it mean?”
“You seriously don’t remember?” You’re laughing for real now, your hair bobbing with it, eyebrows furrowed to emphasize your confusion. “Oh, my God. Charles, it’s all you ever said in Year… what, 7? I don’t… anyway. But when we were maybe twelve, I…”
Momentarily, you’re stunned by the memories of him—you’d forgotten they were even there. You press a few fingers to your lips and clear your throat. “Sorry. Yeah, I, um—I think you heard it in a movie or read it somewhere, and for ages it was your favorite saying. Maybe, just maybe.”
“I don’t underst—”
“—You were always just saying it,” you cut in, laughing, your voices layering as you discuss the origin of his former favorite term. “No, you really—”
“I don’t—I do not ever remember say—”
“—Well,” you say,  “I remember.” He stays silent for a few seconds, the intensity of your stare and the little smile on your face and everything beating down on him. For a split second he thinks of opening his mouth and getting on his knees and telling you everything, all the apologies, all the things unsaid in the months and years you became strangers. He seriously does. The pressure is almost physical, beyond overwhelming.
“I have to go.” You swallow the lump in your throat, disentangle your legs and clamber off the couch, setting the empty glass on his coffee table. “Good?”
“Yeah,” he says, blinking. “Yeah. Take care. Should I drive you?”
“God, no.” You laugh breathily. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
He closes the door after you leave, stares at it, as if that will conjure you back to him. It occurs to him, jolts him almost, that he’d almost let slip a quiet utterance of love you as you slipped out. His stomach boils. With thankfulness over not having said it, he wonders—or with regret?
“Best friends now, are you?” Lily, Carmen, and Rachel look up to the sound of your voice, their serious faces breaking out into smiles. If you could chart the time you spent here, there are definitely people you’ve spent the most time with—these three are at the top of the list. You hang your coat and drop your Chanel bag on the entryway seat, already picking up on the British noises of Love Island UK from the telly.
“Wait, so she’s hooking up with him?” Lily asks, confused; her train of thought is cut off by your flopping onto the bed. “Hiiii. Where’ve you been?”
Muffled by the bedspread: Charles’ place.
Silence. The television switches off and you hear the precarious preparation of three girls readying themselves for a debrief-or-sobfest of a lifetime, a noise you’ve heard and partaken in countless times over your life. You suddenly feel too watched, too spectated; you break the quiet by looking up, displaying your tear-streaked face.
“Talk to us,” Rachel encourages, her voice raspy with unuse (Love Island will keep one occupied and quiet for hours on end). Three of them are touching you in some way or other, reassuring grips on your hair or shoulders. “Did you two fight?”
And, oh Christ, fight? It’s not like you’re dating. You aren’t even halfway to that (not that you want to be, but that’s a discussion for another time). The idea of a fight with him is so terribly juvenile, so horribly reminiscent of secondary school and Monaco and being together and being friends. You can’t fight with a guy who’s not your boyfriend. You can’t fight with a guy you’re not close to, for Chrissake. You squeeze your tears out of your eyes and breathe hiccups out.
“Do you want gelato?” No, no.
“Love Island?” In a minute.
The truth is, you want both, but you really just want to sort everything out with Charles. It was no use—hating each other was futile, but pretending everything was fine in some pathetic attempt at a “truce” seemed even worse. You just want to talk everything out, even if it excavates feelings you’d once been able to suppress.
“What kind of crush doesn’t disappear after ten years?” You ask through tears. It’s almost funny, but the question comes straight from the heart. “I’ve dated guys, lived across the world, started a whole new life pretending he never—pretending we were—fuck. Pretending he didn’t exist. It was—I’m not lying, it was easy, pretending. But one glimpse—I see him one time and suddenly it feels like all of it was in vain. It’s the same crush I had before, coming back, like it’s never going to leave me alone.”
“Maybe it’s not a crush,” says Lily, slowly.
“So what is it then?” You ask, hopelessly. What is this—this revival of memories? This little feeling, this sense that no matter where he is or what he’s doing, you’ll be just as in tune when you reunite even if it takes a decade? A decade spurred by months of being given the cold shoulder? What kind of magic is that?
She doesn’t answer, because you already know.
“Hey Vogue—I’m here with Charles Leclerc, and we’re here to take you along with us on all our little adventures here in Monaco.” Your smile is rehearsed, the perfectly-orchestrated blend of fun and serious, and when the cameraman calls cut, it falls into a more natural resting face. It’s the one Charles turns to and observes for any signs of a grudge.
The day is busy, which is precisely why it was chosen as the film day: three shows in the morning, press junkets for your movie and Charles’ season in the afternoon, and then a gala in the evening, hosted and attended by Anna Wintour herself.
The day’s business is only trumped by its tension, which reaches its crescendo in the janitor’s closet of the fourth floor of your hotel. It’d begun with a fight over the color palette, then a fight over last conversation you shared, then a fight over him fucking up the color palette, and then kissing against the door. Ironically enough, this floor houses a fair number of honeymoon suites.
It’s ironic beause hardly anything about this is or should be romantic—it’s a temporary fix, a pause from the turmoil, his hand squeezing your thigh. He’s gentle but you feel his possessiveness, lingering longer, higher and higher up until he’s playing with the high hem of your skirt. You knot your fingers in his hair, smell the shampoo and hairspray and cologne in the wispy curls there.
He kisses your jaw, then downward, until he’s licking, nipping at your throat. Charles.
“Yeah?” His voice is rough against your pulse point.
“Make it—we gotta—quicker.” Your hands tremble, heart hammering loud and bold in your chest. His voice is sure, gravelly, quiet, and you have to focus on something—so you centre on his hands, up your thighs and slipping under the lace of your skirt, bunching the fabric up around your hips. His hands, big and calloused, fingers resting on your hipbones, on your ass.
He’s hard against your thigh, straining against his jeans. You could cry. “I want more.”
“I know, baby. I know.” The pet name, so new but so natural, sends you into a dopamine rush.
You squirm when he doesn’t let up on his touches, over every inch of your body, groping you. He wants to take his time—he hates that he can’t—and counts on the possibility of a next time. You pull him in for a spit-slick kiss, needy and whimpering, sloppy and tongues knotted. It feels good—fuck, it feels like this was all you were ever made for, his touch. 
You buck your hips into the air desperately. “We really—fuck. We don’t have time.” Cameras, a shoot, a video; reminders ring in your head like alarm bells. He nods, goes I know, and you pick up the strain in his voice as he tugs his jeans down just enough to rub his clothed cock under your entrance, hard and drooling through the fabric.
You moan softly. “Please, I can take it,” you breathe. You’ve never been this wet, this worked up, this teased. You need to feel him, be full of him; he presses you flush against the door with a hand at the small of your back to keep it from aching too much, and drops forward as he pushes into you. Your noses brush and he goes deeper, air thick and muffled with little moans and whimpers.
His mouth is against your jaw, thrusting slowly to get you used to the size of him. The angle gets you dizzy, draws a burst of wetness out and gets you clenching around him. You’re flushed and sweaty, moaning. Feels s’good. So good, Charles, so, so good. He fucks harder, the door rattling, dirty talk cooed from his lips to your ear: Yeah? Feels real good? You’re so good for me, baby, come on.
Your needy voice, needier movements, are driving him crazy, getting him to fuck you harder, licking over his lips as he watches you fall apart on his dick. Relax, he slurs. You squeeze around him and moan, wretched and raw. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re so big. You’re getting his dick wetter and wetter with every thrust, shiny and drooling with cum.
Yeah? He says it so well, the best kind of reassurance. Come on, we don’t have time, baby. Let me feel you cum.
I know— you whine. I’m cumming—it feels too good—
You cum first, thighs shaky around him and lip curling into your teeth. You lean forward, mouth to his shoulder, and bite at the cotton. Fuck, he grunts, and releases then, a groan spilled into your hair. You watch, laughing breathlessly, and feel the world click into something different. 
You two will do anything, apparently, but talk this all through.
The gala is big and extravagant and you’re seated not with Charles this time, but with a roster of celebrities straight out of an LAX red-eye. Anna is at the table adjacent, andy you were able to talk to her about the experience, though not without leaving out bits with Charles in them.
You’re beside Florence and she’s talking about something, about a new movie she’s working on, and you chip in with jokes and laughs but your smile doesn’t really reach your eyes. You’re still caught in a web of fragile confusion. “I need to excuse myself for a moment,” you say after a while, after you’ve done nothing but smile and push broccoli puree around on your plate.
Consolation comes with isolation, at least tonight, at least right now. You find an empty balcony on the third floor, stare into the black sea. You try and try to remember what life was like three weeks ago, but it’s irrevocable now, the change that’s come since then. You tap the glass of your beer bottle against the marble banister, solid and probably expensive—a match for the rest of the hotel, you realize. It’s starkingly clean and smooth, and white, the kind of things you’d only say about a marble banister when you’re trying to avoid an adult introspection.
Behind you: “Are you okay?” 
In response, you say, “We shouldn’t have had sex.”
Charles settles himself into a spot near you, not totally beside but not too far—he, too, holds onto a bottle of beer. There are fancier drinks around, but somehow the dry taste of ale is all that brings you comfort right now. Your gears turn and, without prompt or question, you spill yourself forth.
“It was hard, when you didn’t… when we didn’t talk, and you didn’t ever tell me why, so I didn’t know anything. I keep remembering it, even now, what—ten years later, ha ha, even after… I don’t know, after the fact. We’re supposed to have moved on from shit that happened to us when we were fifteen but I’m finding it to be the hardest thing in the world. It was so… like, I had no trouble saying goodbye to anything else but you. And I’m famous now, my life is a whole thing, a—this whole party, and I’m supposed to… fuck.” You shut your eyes, and you can feel, through the thick fog of embarrassment and delirium, the tears that stain your cheeks. “It’s like. You know when you’re a teenager and you see all of it in movies and TV, this, like, moment where you’re staring at someone from across a room, and you’re smiling and talking to other people and you’re happy because you know in a few hours, you’ll be with that person anyway? At home, rearranging furniture, feeding the dog, eating leftovers? That… I always thought you’d be that person for me. Maybe because you were the only—you know—the only love I ever knew, and now, what. Four? Boyfriends and ten years later, you might expect me to feel differently—hell I expect myself to feel differently, but, unfortunately for you and me, I don’t. Sorry. I’m not—I’m not drunk, or anything.”
He stares at you, his expression soft and unreadable. It feels like it’s just the two of you in the world today, twenty-somethings, ten years later, unearthing all you left buried. “I…” he says, before pausing. “I’m sorry for leaving.”
You nod in response. 
“I always thought you would forgive me.” His face is sullen and handsome and your heart seizes. “I wanted to be your person.”
“How could I forgive you without an apology?” Your voice comes out fragile. “I leave in three days. You’ve fu—you’ve… you’ve kissed me, had sex with me, flirted with me. You’ve done everything but that.”
“I did apologize. I don’t think it was enough, but—”
“But you didn’t,” you reply, a jagged response. “You never said anything.”
“I wrote you.” His eyebrows knit. “I wrote you.” 
“You wrote me.” You repeat, deadpan. Your head spins with it. “What, a letter?”
“An e-mail. Before your first film came out—2014? A year after you… yeah.” He’s quiet and timid and nervous. “I forced Gi to tell me your address.”
“I didn’t… I wasn’t using that e-mail anymore. I haven’t in years.” You pinch your nose and let the silence settle like fine dust onto the room, an unspoken bomb that explodes over the both of you, raining regret and unsaid words. “I have to go.” You push yourself off the banister, turning already to the doors of the balcony. He stops you before you can step any further, a hand closed over your wrist, rough and warm.
“If you find the message,” he says, “will you read it?”
“I don’t plan to,” you lie. “Goodnight.”
From: Charles Perceval Leclerc <[email protected]>
Date: 14 October 2014
To: You
Subject: Urgent!
hey buttercup, I asked Giada for this email address. my bday in 2 days. Will you be home for Xmas this year btw? ill show you some new places that open ed + we can bike around. mum misses u a lot too. parfois je souhaite que tu ne partes pas… not sometimes but always. i think i need to edit this a little let me try ag
From: Charles Perceval Leclerc <[email protected]>
Date: 14 October 2014
To: You
Subject: Buttercup
j’appellerais mais je ne pense pas que tu veuilles répondre. it’s been more than a year since you moved out, in two days i’ll be celebrating my second birthday w/o you. i’ve been karting a lot, things are looking up, just like we always said they would :) just want to say i miss you a lot, and i hope you’re doing good. i would say i hate radio silence but i know it’s my fault all this happened in the first place. i’m sorry i stopped talking to you last year when you were moving away. i was being childish, but the truth is it was the only way i could handle it - by pretending we werent friends at all… i don’t want to make you pity me or anything (ne pense pas que je suis) but yeah you’re my best friend and you always will be. i’m sorry for being a knot head.
i was always scared to tell you but it’s been there since forever: i love you. i should’ve enjoyed your months here instead of leaving you in the air. i know i ignored you but it’s the 1 thing i regret. should’ve done a lot more, i know.. but i didn’t. we have a lot of promises i broke because i was being selfish. i kept the paper ring to remind me. remember that? we had a “playground wedding” when we were 5/6?
tu ne me dois rien - i just want you to give me a chance to make you happy, even if it’s just in the way we’ve always been (as friends). if you write me back i’ll try and fly there. mum is always asking me if we’ve talked yet. if not, that’s ok. i love you all the same and i will love you as you reach your dreams. this will never change. 
charles
p.s: est-ce que je te manque?
p.p.s: call me if you can and wish me a happy birthday?
“Rachel, I would sooner die than wait another two hours for the tarmac to clear again.” You try to up the firmness in your voice but it fails, only serving to make you sound less angry and more agitated. When all you get in response is a muffled I’m coming! you grumble and hang up the phone. Your plane was delayed all of three times, and the instant it arrives and is scheduled to take off on time, your friendsistant is nowhere to be found.
Lily and Carmen had thrown you a goodbye party the night prior, with sprinklers and music and cocktails, and promised to be on the next flight to L.A. Vogue and David had emailed you for a job done spectacularly, and to watch out for the videos and interviews’ release dates. Twitter is raving about your movie. Everything should be good, and yet, it’s not.
You check your inbox. IM COMJNG LILTIERALLY IM RUNNING THRU AJRPPRT!!!!!! You scoff again, hoping the plane doesn’t somehow take off for the fourth time, and take a seat on the VIP waiting area sofa again, shaking your now-empty chai latte. The room, sectioned off from economy and business, is fairly full.
A woman paces over to you, a bright grin on her face. “Hi. I’m a huge fan.”
“Thank you,” you smile, despite your tiredness.
“This is so embarrassing—but do you happen to have the time?”
“Sure”—you tap your phone open—“half past four.”
“Great,” she says. “Thanks, Buttercup.”
You’re opening your mouth to say you’re welcome, but it catches like cotton in your throat. You watch her depart like nothing happened, a strange feeling settling in your chest. You have barely any time to answer it, because a flight attendant is tapping you on the shoulder, addressing you by name, thankfully. She maintains a tone of professionalism all throughout her announcement that the aircraft under your name will have to evacuate the runway in ten minutes or less.
“I know, I know—I’m just, um. I’m waiting for somebody. She should be near now, though.”
“Tremendous. Merci, Buttercup.”
“Wh—” You stutter, blinking and watching her leave. “What?”
She doesn’t turn, walking to the kiosk to exchange information with her coworkers. You look around the airport, for a camera hidden somewhere maybe. Perhaps you’ve been unknowingly listed in some Impractical Jokers skit.
Rach hurry you text instead, leaning back and hoping you’re in some grandiose delusion. Your phone dings. Omw promise! It reads. Then: Look up buttercup
Your head snaps upward faster than you can register what you’ve just read, matching the opening notes of a song you’ve grown all too familiar with in your lifetime. The opening beat to Build Me Up, Buttercup flows like honey through the room’s intercom and floods it with life.
Mouth agape, you watch as the staff and guests perform the routine you’d learned at fourteen, complete with hops and turns you were too embarrassed to do even then. They’re smiling and whooping themselves and each other as they go, finishing the entire first verse before turning collectively to the entrance of the room. There, in all his glory: Charles, wearing an entirely too-small headdress that reads Buttercup, worn dusty from years of being stored away.
He’s dancing, too, closer to you. You refuse to budge for the express purpose that he dance some more, which he complies with, though not without an eyeroll and an exasperated sigh. Your heart beats with something irregular and warm. You’d told him about this before. He’d listened.
The music settles for a little and the dancers do, too, so he takes the time to raise his sign. Will you forgive me? It reads. No pressure. Except kind of. You laugh, throwing your head back at the gesture, at this entire affair that must have taken some amount of effort to prepare. As the lyric comes on, so does his sign: I need you… more than anyone, darling.
He drops the sign when you approach him, arms crossed over your torso. He removed the headdress and places it gingerly on yours. “I believe that belongs to you.”
And, hyperaware of all the eyes and yet the complete lack of cameras—you’re grateful for it—you finally, finally, finally pull him in for a kiss. You’ve kissed before, done your worst, but still means volumes to the both of you.
In-between kisses and cheers (from voices belonging to Lorenzo, Rachel, Lily—so many familiar ones), he says it again: “I’m sorry. I’ll make it all up to you.”
“You better,” you tease into his lips, smiling. “I know. I love you.” Ten years later—your person still is, and no doubt will always be, Charles Leclerc.
2K notes · View notes
leclercsainzz · 8 months
Note
hey hun!
could you write a smau with actress!reader x charles where charles is literally whipped for his gf and maybe reader is in the new barbie movie and he can’t stop talking about how proud he is and stuff like that and the fans and other drivers make fun of how whipped he is
thx xx 🩷
INTO YOU
PAIRINGS: charles leclerc x actress!reader
TYPE: social media au
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 518,028 others
yourusername: pretty in pink! 🩷
view 7,929 comments
charles_leclerc: you look mesmerizing
charles_leclerc: baby, you are looking gorgeous 😍
charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!
↳ yourusername: i love youuuu <33
user: the way he hype’s her up, i cannot 😭
↳ user: i need me a man like that ASAP
francisca.cgomes: stunning!!
isahernaez: obsessed with you and your beauty 😩
↳ charles_leclerc: same!
carlossainz55: i cannot stop looking at these - charles
↳ carlossainz55: yn, come get your man! he keeps refreshing this post every 5 seconds just to comment
↳ sebastianvettel: what is it that teens say nowadays? ah, yes .. he’s WHIPPED!
user: you’re so pretty, I CAN’T 😭
user: how does charles get this beauty all to himself?!??
user: call me charles cause i’m also a simp for you 😌
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, dualipa and 540,619 others
yourusername: this barbie is a certified genius #thebarbiemovie
view 8,510 comments
user: tuRN IT UP, WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!! 🔥
charles_leclerc: so proud of you, my love!! ❤️
user: screaming, crying, throwing up .. can’t wait!!
charles_leclerc: the prettiest barbie ever!
↳ yourusername: my biggest fan 😘
dualipa: you’re a real beauty!
user: she truly is barbie and then there’s charles
↳ user: she’s everything, he’s just ken
user: charles is one lucky ass man, i swear 😭
↳ charles_leclerc: that i am:)
↳ user: i hope you know how to fight
lewishamilton: charles sent this to the group chat and DEMANDED we all watch this
↳ user: ooh, to be in this gc
user: i cannot wait to watch this!!
charles_leclerc and yourusername
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liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 683,893 others
charles_leclerc: first of all i want to start of by saying happy 3 year anniversary, chéri!! with all that you’ve accomplished over the years, i can’t help but be immensely proud of you and your hard work .. i’m glad to have you around and blessing my life in ways you’d never imagine … thank you for being my biggest supporter and lightning up my mood every chance you get! i love you will all my heart, baby!! ❤️
tagged: @yourusername
view 8,841 comments
yourusername: omg, you’re making me cry:(
yourusername: thank you, bby! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ❤️
user: i’m noT crying, you are
carlossainz55: please tell me yn bought that t-shirt for you
↳ charles_leclerc: if it helps you sleep at night then yes
maxverstappen1: that t-shirt, mate 💀 someone’s WHIPPED
lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is yn’s biggest fan
↳ pierregasly: 😭😭 not even yn’s fans are this obsessed
↳ carlossainz55: the BIGGEST simp out there
user: the waY the other drivers are coming for him 😂
user: cRYING OMG 😭
user: the way they’re each other’s biggest supporter 😩
danielricciardo: i was about to comment “cute” until i saw the last picture you posted ….
↳ user: danny, please 💀 let the man live
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yoursername
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liked by charles_leclerc, estebanocon and 548,792 others 
yourusername: european premiere in london for barbie & race week officially completed ✔️❤️
view 6,847 comments
user: the way she went to support him even though she had to attend the premiere later on 😭
↳ user: don’t forget he attended the premiere with her too
↳ user: smh, and i can’t even get a respond
charles_leclerc: forever proud of you!! ❤️
↳ yourusername: back at you;) 😘
user: meanwhile my bf can’t do the bare minimum
user: they’re the reason i believe in love, i swear 😩🤍
danielricciardo: did you tell margot robbie i love her?
↳ yourusername: of course!! (charles sent you a vid)
user: every couple wishes they were them
carlossainz55: meanwhile charles leclerc starstruck by his own girlfriend at the premiere
↳ maxverstappen1: he’s acting as if he doesn’t live with her and sees her 24/7 💀
↳ yourusername: 😭 i can’t with ya’ll
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yourusername and charles_leclerc
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liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 586,931 others
yourusername: get you someone who looks at you and appreciates you the way he does!! 😚
tagged: @charles_leclerc
view 7,629 comments
charles_leclerc: i’m addicted to you
↳ yourusername: me @ you 😩
charles_leclerc: i can never take my eyes off you, you’re too gorgeous, baby!!
charles_leclerc: you make me blush 🤭
↳ lewishamilton: confirmed: charles is the #1 simp
user: theY’RE MY PARENTS, yA’lL
user: the way he looks at her with such love 😭 i CANNOT
pierregasly: obsessive fan behavior, if you ask me
carlossainz55: i guess this is cute
↳ yourusername: guess???!??
↳ carlossainz55: it’s cute
user: this mf is sooo whipped!!!
↳ user: he’s just like me 💁🏻‍♀️
user: he better know how to fight cause i’m gonna steal his girl
↳ charles_leclerc: for the girl i love, absolutely
↳ user: mY HEART JUST MELTED WTF 😭
user: they say love is dead, but these two proved me wrong
2K notes · View notes
kumori-suwan · 1 year
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Ex husband Deku who lets the stress of being a pro get between his marriage and divorces you out of the blue.
Ex husband Deku who hates how much pain you went through and how many tears you cried during the whole divorce process.
Ex husband Deku who misses you so much once you’ve moved out and quit the agency you’d both worked at together.
Ex husband Deku who still sends you good morning and good night texts despite knowing you probably hate him or have him blocked.
Ex husband Deku who sometimes cries over you during those rough nights where he feels lonely and weak.
Ex husband Deku who watches as all his friends start their own families, bringing in the new generation of heroes while he’s all alone.
Ex husband Deku who tries to move on but wears your wedding ring about his neck to remind him that it’s impossible when you were all he really needed.
Ex husband Deku who works himself to the bone to forget the pain of his broken heart and lonely life, neglecting to take care of himself as the days passed.
Ex husband Deku who accidentally meets his toddler child after rescuing her from a random villain attack in the middle of the city. You rush out crying over your child as Deku hands her to you completely unaware that it’s him until he calls your name all pretty.
Ex husband Deku who finds out you were pregnant during the divorce and that you decided to keep and raise the baby by yourself without telling him. This pains him in a way he’d never thought he’d imagine, he always wanted kids with you but for you to raise the baby alone like his mom raised him was a bitterness he never hoped to experience.
Ex husband Deku who invites you to dinner and gets there early nervously waiting for you to arrive, starts getting anxious when he believes you aren’t coming.
Ex husband Deku who can’t help his swelling heart at the sight of you with his little girl all dressed up in your arms.
Ex husband Deku who listens to your story of how you’ve been since the divorce, watches how insecure he’d left you since separating from you.
Ex husband Deku who suddenly becomes more involved in your life, helping you with your little girl whenever you need it, helping you on hero cases if you don’t have enough help.
Ex husband Deku that pouts when you ask him to babysit so you can go on a date for the first time in forever. He smiles and says yes but once he’s alone with you little girl he’s venting to her that Mama doesn’t love him anymore since he’s stupid.
Ex husband Deku who tries to wait up for you to come home but knocks out on the couch with his little girl on his chest knocked out and drooling just like him. When you do come home, disappointed by your date, you can’t help but smile at the sight of Izuku asleep with your daughter.
“What are doing to me? Stupid nerd, why are you making me fall in love with you all over again.?”, you chuckle, carefully taking your daughter into your arms and carrying her to the bedroom to sleep on the bed, as you pass by the guest bedroom you notice that it’s been redecorated to fit a children’s room.
You quietly gasp realizing that Izuku had made it since meeting your little girl, you hear his heavy feet stumbling against the hardwood floor and turn to see him with a worried expression that melts once he sees you have your daughter.
“Sorry I got worried when I couldn’t feel her anymore.”, he whispers, sighing with relief that she’s okay.
Ex husband Deku who asks how your date went despite the jealousy he feels.
Ex husband Deku who gets mad when he realizes you’re upset from your insensitive date that left you alone on the dance floor to party with someone younger.
“It’s fine, most guys don’t want an old girl like me anyways especially with a kid. It’s a bit of a turn off I’ve been told.”, you sighed.
Ex husband Deku who has a wonderful idea and carefully lays your baby to sleep in her little princess bed, and quietly pulls you back to living room to turn on the radio to some random slow song and offers you his hand, “May I have this dance?”, he asks confidently.
You can’t help the blush that colors your cheeks or the smile that crosses your face when you take his hand. He pulls you in close, one hand pressed against your hip while he kisses the wrist of the hand he’s holding, slowly but surely he begins to dance with you.
Ex husband Deku who’s still a horrible dancer but ever so happy to have you in his arms again, you smile and lean your head against his chest listening to his heartbeat while you both sway to the song.
Ex husband Deku who almost cries when he confesses he misses you and slowly leans down to press a soft kiss to your plump lips. You’re happy he does, when he pulls away you chase his lips again for yet another kiss. He lets you, he lets you kiss him, let’s you pour out all your frustrations on him, and smiles.
Ex husband Deku who picks you up and carries you away to his bedroom, both of you sharing and reconnecting your love, doesn’t let you go again after tonight.
Husband Deku who remarries you months after you’ve accepted him as yours again and announces you and his little girl at the Hero Gala that same year.
Husband Deku who doesn’t care about the public opinion, only cares for you and realizes he’s better with you in his life.
Husband Deku who cries fountains when you announce you’re pregnant again with a shirt on his little princess that reads ‘Future big sister in training.’
You giggle and smile as you live a better, happier, life with the man that had stolen your heart years ago.
Husband Deku that is so stupidly in love with you that it makes the public sick, but you adore it so much.
Husband Deku who’s so mad when your daughter is born with a fire breathing quirk that obviously came from his father’s side of the family.
“It skipped a generation…that quirk skipped a generation!”
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starkwlkr · 11 months
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omg can you write charles reaction to baby leclerc first kindergarten boyfriend and how jealous he would be 🥹🥹
no boys allowed | charles leclerc
in honor of my birthday, here’s one more baby leclerc fic <3
Ruby woke up ten minutes earlier than she should’ve. It was a new school day and she was more excited than ever. While her mom slept peacefully, Ruby was in her bathroom trying to untangle her hair, but each time she would end up with a knot in it. She gave up and ran to her mom and dad’s room with a brush stuck in her hair.
“Mama, I need help. Mama, wake up.” Ruby poked Y/n’s cheek repeatedly until her eyes fluttered open.
“Baby, what? What’s wrong?” Y/n rubbed her tired eyes. She then saw the mess on Ruby’s head. “Oh, baby girl.”
Y/n was alone with the kids since Charles was coming back from Italy for his home race. Mathéo slept in his nursery. Y/n got out of bed and took Ruby to her bathroom to fix the tangled hair.
“Why did you do this, Ruby?” The mother asked.
“Because I want to look pretty for my boyfriend!”
Y/n choked on her own saliva when she heard Ruby mention the word ‘boyfriend’. “When did this happen, Rubes? Does papa know?”
Of course Charles didn’t know. If he did, he would immediately change Ruby to a different school. Even if it was a pretend boyfriend, Ruby was still too young to be thinking about boys in his eyes. Thank god Charles wasn’t home.
“Yesterday he told me he loves me. Papa doesn’t know . . Yet! Can I tell him?” Ruby jumped up and down, eager to tell her papa about her love life.
“Not right now, baby. He’s working. But you can tell me all about him. What’s his name?” Y/n asked as she continued to brush through Ruby’s hair.
“His name is Ben and we’re getting married! Can you be my flower girl, mama? And uncle arthur can give us a ring.” Ruby said. “I want uncle pierre and kika to be at my wedding. I love Kika.”
Y/n chuckled. Ruby reminded Y/n of a younger version of herself, planning out her dream wedding, not having a single stressful moment. Y/n wished her Ruby would stay little forever.
“Okay, all done. Go get dressed, I have to get your brother ready.” Y/n pressed a kiss to the top of Ruby’s head and watched as the little girl ran off to her room. Before Y/n walked to Mathéo’s nursery, she grabbed her phone and texted Charles.
Y/n
Good morning my love. I’m going to take Ruby to school and when you get home, I have news to tell you. It’s important.
Charles
Good morning mon amour❤️ tell Ruby I love her and I miss her. Are you not going to give me a hint? I can’t wait that long
Y/n
Well it’s about our daughter. That’s all I’m telling you.
Charles
You’re an evil woman
I love you ❤️
Y/n
Love you more 🥰
She left her phone on her nightstand and walked to Mathéo’s room where he was not laying awake staring at the ceiling. “Good morning my little boy. Let’s get you ready for the day.”
After both kids were dressed, the Leclerc family was on their way to school. Ruby kept telling her mother about Ben and how good he was at drawing, counting from 1 to 100 and apparently he knew about f1 because of his dad. The school wasn’t that far away from their home so they walked.
“When is papa coming home?” Ruby asked.
“He should be here tomorrow or maybe even today.” Replied Y/n. Mathéo squealed from his spot in his stroller. “You’re exiting to see papa, Théo? He misses you too.”
“I can tell him about Ben! Can Ben come to the race with us? Please mama!” Ruby stopped walking to face her mother.
“I don’t know, Ruby. We have to talk to his parents first.”
When Ruby got to school, she refused to set foot into the classroom until Ben arrived. Five minutes later, a little boy with a Ferrari cap on ran towards Ruby and hugged her.
“Ben! Don’t run! You’ve tripped enough already!” A woman about Y/n’s age scolded the boy.
“Mama! He’s Ben, my boyfriend!” Ruby yelled as Ben put his arm around her shoulder.
“Nice to meet you Ben. I’m Ruby’s mom.” Y/n said to the little boy.
“So I guess we’re in laws?” Ben’s mom laughed. “I’m Clara, Ben’s mom. I’ve heard so many things about your little girl. Were you invited to their ‘wedding’?” Clara asked.
Y/n nodded. “You’re looking at the flower girl.” She joked.
“I’m jealous, Ben told me I have to pay for the whole thing!”
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After school, Pascale, Lorenzo and Arthur would always arrive at Y/n and Charles’ house just to spend time together. Ruby absolutely loved it. This time, Charles joined since he had taken an early flight from Italy so when he got home, he found Ruby and Arthur doing some crafts on the kitchen table while Pascale, Y/n and Lorenzo were with Baby Mathéo in the living room.
“Papa!” Ruby threw her crayon on the table and ran to Charles.
Charles let his suitcase fall to the ground. He wrapped his arms around Ruby and picked her up, spinning her a couple time as she laughed. “You didn’t cause any trouble, did you?” He kissed her cheek.
“No! I’m a very good girl. Ask mama and Théo!” Ruby giggled.
“Okay, I’ll ask them right now.” Charles set her down and turned his attention to the rest of his family. “How was my boy while I was gone? Was Ruby good?” He sat next to Y/n on the sofa.
“He didn’t cry at night often, but he did miss his papa a lot.” Y/n passed the baby to Charles. “And yes, she was an angel.”
“Just him and Ruby missed me?” Charles teased.
“I missed you!” Arthur spoke from the kitchen table.
“Anyone else missed me? Anybody?” Charles looked around, ignoring Arthur. “I’m kidding, I missed all of you.”
“Oh! The news! Ruby, want to tell papa now?” Y/n prepared herself for Charles’ reaction. Everyone did.
“What news, Ruby?”
“I have a boyfriend!”
“Mon amour, grab Théo please.”
Y/n took the baby from Charles’ arms and watched his confused face.
“Baby, you can’t have a boyfriend.” Charles said to Ruby. “You’re too young and he is too.”
“But I already made him a card! Uncle Arthur is helping me!” Ruby pointed at Arthur, who immediately dropped the marker from his hands and froze.
“Arthur! Why are you helping my daughter make a card for a boy?!”
“She didn’t tell me it was for her boyfriend.” Arthur defended himself.
“Yes I did. I said ‘uncle arthur can you help me make a card for my boyfriend?’ and you said yes.” Ruby innocently said.
“I thought she was joking.”
Charles shook his head. He knew it wasn’t a real relationship but he still didn’t like the idea of his little girl already thinking about boys and relationships.
“And you haven’t even heard the best part yet. They’re getting married.” Lorenzo added followed by a loud laugh.
“No one is getting married!” Charles announced.
“So you and mama aren’t getting married?” Ruby asked.
“We are married, baby.” Y/n said confused.
“But Ben’s parents got married two times. He told me.”
“So his name is Ben. Where does he live?” Charles asked and before Ruby could answer, Pascale hit his arm. “Maman! This Ben can’t date my daughter!”
“They’re kids, Charles.” Pascale said, bringing in her granddaughter for a hug.
“You’re telling me you’ve never had a girlfriend when you were a little kid?” Y/n asked Charles. Not that he could remember, no he never did that.
“And you had a boyfriend when you were little?” Charles rolled his eyes, and watched Y/n stay silent. “No, someone was your boyfriend before me?!”
“This isn’t about me, now excuse me I have to practice my flower girl skills before the big wedding.”
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hansensgirl · 3 months
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summary. | Your sugar mommy plans to spoil every attempt you make at leaving her.
prompts. | Natasha Romanoff + Sugar Mommy + “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely.” (credits to @celestianstars for inspiring this prompt) + Begging, requested by Anonymous.
pairing. | dark!sugar mommy!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader.
warnings. | NON/DUBCON, power imbalance, sugar mommy/baby relationship, manipulation, lying, deceit, possessiveness, obsession, pet names, Mommy kink, begging kink, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!
author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.
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You enter Natasha’s swanky penthouse panting. You rushed here on a whim—all the money you saved is missing. 
“Nat?” you call out into the open space, hoping she’ll answer. “Baby? What are you doing here?” she responds, walking towards you with open arms. 
You run to her and break down into a fit of sobs. Natasha soothes you immediately, even though she doesn’t know about what troubles you just yet. Your sugar mommy coaxes you to sit on the couch, where she pulls you onto her lap.
“What’s wrong, honey? Hm? Tell Mommy,” she urges, and you wipe your tears away once your wails quiet down. “R– Remember the money I saved?” you begin. She nods her head. “It’s gone—I can’t find any of it.”
Natasha pouts as you start to cry again. “Baby…” she eventually sighs, and her forlorn tone puzzles you. You look at her through blurry eyes and wait for her following words. “Don’t cry. I had to take it from you,” she eventually confesses.
Your waterworks cease immediately. Now, you’re horrified of Natasha. 
“Wh– What?” you ask in disbelief. Natasha rubs circles on your back to get you to calm down, but you feel worked up—angry. “Well, you know our agreement, right, sweetie?” she questions in a sweet tone, almost as if she’s talking to a child.
You nod your head hesitantly. 
“I just felt that you saving up so much money goes against it. I’m the one that supports you, remember?” Natasha explains. 
You want to scoff. She should know that this arrangement won’t last forever—you’ll leave Natasha one day, when you’re financially stable and ready to take on the world.  
“B– But the contract never said that… Did it?” you say. Natasha sharply inhales. “You’re right. It didn’t. But it was necessary for me to do. You can’t leave me, kitten,” she rambles. 
This isn’t the first time you’ve experienced one of her possessive episodes. At first, Natasha frightened you. You threatened to break off the entire relationship until she explained that she just can’t help it. You let out a deep exhale.
“I’m not going to leave you, Mommy…” you pout, sweetening your voice to really convince her. “But it’s not fair that you took my money. I need it back. Just to have something, you know?” you tell Natasha, feigning mindlessness as you play with her bra strap. 
Natasha’s breath hitches. You both are aware she sees through your act, but your obedience pleases her nonetheless. One day, she’ll make your words come true.
“You know the rules, princess,” Natasha reminds, searching in your eyes for lust. “You want something from me? You gotta ask nicely,” she husks.
You bite back a groan. 
“Please, Mommy? Please, can I have my money back? I promise I’ll never leave you—I’ll always be your good girl. Please, please, please,” you whine, and Natasha hums in delight. You feel ashamed at having to beg for something you need—but you also feel your cunt getting wetter by the second. 
Natasha grips your hips, and she nods her head. “You can have your money, baby. You’re such a good girl for Mommy,” she accedes, and you give her a big smile. If only you knew her future plans for you.
733 notes · View notes
boldlyvoid · 3 months
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Dear Santa
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Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader
Summary: Jack's wishlist this year only consists of one thing. He wants Y/N to be his step-mom.
A/N: Continuation of Waiting Rooms, set a year later
Warnings: slight angst trying to get Jack to share what he wants for Christmas, Haley and reader are friends, getting engaged
Word Count: 2.8K
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Rosie is about to turn 1. 
JJ and Will are having a big birthday bash at their place, 2 weeks before her actual birthday because being a Christmas baby is hard. Gift-giving becomes a chore, they feel overlooked as they get older, and holiday fatigue makes people not really want to add another thing to their plate. But the BAU loved any excuse to party and to spoil their godchildren— even if it wasn’t on paper like Aaron was, every single member on the team loved JJ’s children as if they were their own. 
 And Aaron’s girlfriend is invited to the party, too. 
Everyone knows her, she’s been around a lot and Aaron loves her dearly. Even Haley likes her, invited her to the wedding back in September and everything, which came in handy when they had to take Jack home for the night to give the happy couple some alone time. Aaron had him for 2 weeks during the honeymoon, and while he was at work, Y/N basically moved into his place to take care of Jack in his absence, which Haley was only okay with because Y/N had a degree in education and was trusted with 20 plus kids every day for years. They got on well, Jack loved talking to her and playing with her, he asked to call her at night when he had weekends with Aaron and she wasn’t over… and then she moved in. Jack was over the moon. 
It’s been a month now, playing family is so much easier when Y/N doesn’t have to leave ever. His house is her house and his son is her favourite little guy in the world… but he’s acting different. 
There are 2 weeks until Christmas and even Haley can’t get him to make a wish list. Well, he’s made one. He’s sent it to Santa, but he wouldn’t let her see it. So, you know, she can’t buy him anything in the name of Santa. It’s stressing them out, they have no idea why he’s being so secretive this year. 
They pick him up from Haley’s for the birthday party, he loves any excuse to spend time with Henry and Haley begs Aaron to try and get him to talk. To anyone. Someone on the team has to be able to crack what’s going on and get him to share what he wants. In exact specifics because if he doesn’t get what he wants on Christmas morning, there’s going to be hell to pay. 
He runs off to see Henry the second they’re inside, Aaron and Y/N put the gifts in the pile and head into the kitchen to give hugs and handshakes to all their friends. Y/N hugs Penelope and JJ and she takes little Rosie into her arms for a hug and kisses the side of her head, making Aaron swoon. “I can’t believe you’re so big!” She teases, brushing her nose against Rosie’s hair. 
“I know,” JJ sighs, shaking her head. “I wish I could keep them this tiny forever…” 
“Me too,” Aaron agrees. Looking off into the other room where the kids are all playing and making noise. “Things are easier when they’re 1.” 
“I don’t know,” Will shrugs. “I think 4 is treating Henry well.” 
“Has he told you what he wants for Christmas?” Y/N asks right away. 
They both nod, “why?” JJ asks. 
“Jack won’t tell us,” Aaron complains. “He made his letter, didn’t let me or Haley look and then mailed it away when he met Santa at the mall… we have no idea what he wants and he won’t tell us.” 
“Well, last year his Christmas was a lot to take,” Derek reminds them. “His mom getting engaged so soon after your divorce is going to stick out to him… his whole world changed last Christmas.” 
“Do you think maybe he asked Santa to bring you two together again?” Penelope asks, hesitant but onto something.
Aaron shakes his head, “no, he loves Scott. Talks very highly about him and their time together on weekdays.” 
“Hm,” Emily hums. “You want one of us to talk to him?” 
“I’m not sure,” Aaron’s honest. “Maybe Spencer, or Y/N even… I don’t want him to think he’s in trouble for not talking to us about his Wishlist.”
“I’ll do it,” Y/N volunteers, handing Rosie over to Aaron so he can have a snuggle with his god-daughter. “I’ll ask Henry too, just to cover my bases. Get them talking, see what’s up.” 
“Thank you,” Aaron leans in and presses a kiss to her lips while Rosie clings to him. 
They watch her leave and as soon as the coast is clear everyone's vibe switches. “So…” Derek is the first to tease him.
“When are you going to have another one?” Emily continues. 
Aaron shakes his head with a blush. Rosie is snuggled into his chest, head on his shoulder, he leans his cheek against her head and holds her close. She’s always loved him, she finds him calming and it’s probably because he’s so stern and has his emotions under control… also because he’s family. He was the 4th person to hold her in her entire life and he loved her because he loved her mother so much. 
“When she asks,” he’s honest.
“Oooo,” JJ teases with a smirk. “I’m surprised she hasn’t asked with how often she sees you with babies now.” 
“I know,” he sighs. “I think she wants to be married before she has kids. She’s traditional, I can’t blame her…” 
“So when are you going to ask?” Penelope asks, desperate to know. 
He shrugs, “We haven’t talked about it. It’s only been a year, we just moved in together, and we’d have to plan it all around her teaching schedule. There’s a lot to consider. I want to make sure she’s okay with my schedule, the long hours and the not being around— I mean, she’s good with Jack, she spends time with him when we get called out and she hasn’t said she has a problem with it but—
“but it’s happened to you once before,” JJ understands. 
He nods, “I love her too much to lose her too.” 
They all understand that. 
“She’s had time to run,” Emily adds. “If she didn’t like your job or the hours or missing you as much as I’m sure she does— she would’ve left already. She’s not the kind of woman to push her feelings down and just coast. She says what she feels and gets what she wants and what she wants is you and the life you’re building and the family you’ve welcomed her into.” 
His heart swells, “I hope so.” 
She plays with them for a bit, driving cars around a town printed on a carpet and making all the automobile noises with a smile. She loved this little boy so much, he was the best thing to come into her life since his dad. 
“Did you guys ask for more cars for Christmas?” She pries. 
Henry nods, but jack doesn’t say anything. He keeps driving, avoiding the question. 
“What else did you ask for Henry?” 
“a—
“Don’t tell her!” Jack cuts him off. “If you say it out loud it doesn’t come true.” 
“What?” She asks, almost laughing but she holds back. “Who told you that?” 
“No one…” he shakes his head, looking like he’s thinking hard.
“Then why do you think it works like that?”
“It’s like birthday wishes,” he explains. 
“What did you wish for on your birthday last year?” She asks, trying to figure out if he got it or not, to see if that’s why he thinks this. 
“The Spider-Man Hot Wheels track,” he explains. 
“And did you tell anyone?” She asks, he shakes his head. “And you got it?” 
“I did…” 
“What about Christmas last year? Did you tell anyone what you wanted?” 
“I made a list but… what I wanted most I told Santa and then it happened,” he whispers. “For mommy to get married to Scott.” 
“Oh,” her heart swells. “Oh, Jack. You know, that’s just because you told Santa and he can make things come true, but sometimes Santa can’t get all your gifts and he’ll reach out to your mommy and daddy and say hey, the 3rd thing on Jack's list I couldn’t make at my factory so you can get that for him. But Santa can’t talk to your mom or dad about presents unless you do too… he can’t tell your secrets.” 
“Oh,” he thinks hard about it. “I didn’t think about that.” 
“Yeah, when I was little we didn’t have a chimney so my dad actually had to wait up for Santa and let him into the house,” she explains the old lie her parents used to tell her. “They became good friends and Santa was always so happy to hear they got me the things he couldn’t make.” 
“I only put one thing on my list,” he frowns, scared now that he won’t get anything if it doesn’t come true. 
He starts to cry and she pulls him right into her lap, cradling him, “Oh, buddy it's okay. We can make a second list, explain everything to Santa and send it tonight, he’ll get it in time.” 
“You think?” He asks, looking up at her with those big hotchner brown eyes. 
She nods, “Come on, let’s go ask Aunty JJ if she has some paper.” 
They get up off the carpet and she carries him into the kitchen again, they get paper and a pencil and they sit down at the kitchen table together with Aaron standing over his shoulder. He puts down a couple things he’s seen on commercials between TV shows and things he’s seen in the store with his mom and she looks up at Aaron who smiles. He can get these things, there’s still lots of time to make sure his Christmas is good. 
But she wanted to know what his big present was… she needed to tell Aaron everything and they needed to work it out. They can’t ruin the magic of Christmas for him because this year his big wish doesn’t come true.
At home that night, they sit in bed and she tells him everything and his heart breaks a bit. “He has 1 wish and we have no idea what it is.” 
“I know,” she leans back against the pillows, just as panicked as he is. “Is there any way you can contact the mall and find out what Santa was working on that day and maybe, just maybe he remembers what Jack said?” 
“I can try… but I might just have Haley and Scott sit him down and have him watch Here Comes Santa Clause, make sure he has the real story and knows that it’s not like a birthday wish. Saying it doesn’t stop it from coming true,” Aaron explains. “I need him to have a good Christmas with us this year.” 
“He will,” she assures, cuddling into his side. She places her hand on his chest and he wraps his arm around her so she can get closer. “We all will.”
Aaron goes off on another case just before Christmas, Y/N spends the night before Jack’s arrival for his week at their house, wrapping presents. They’ve managed to get him everything he asked for. They split the list in half, Haley got him a bunch, they got him the rest and then they all threw in some practice things from themselves. 
Haley had dropped off her Santa gifts early, they’re hidden up in the attic so he can’t find them before Christmas morning. He’s going to be one spoiled boy… 
Aarons is still not back when Jack gets there. He’s so close to finishing the case, he should be home in a day. Till then, she’s more than happy to spend some one-on-one time with Jack. 
He runs upstairs to his room to put his bag away and Y/N gets a few minutes alone with Haley, “has he said anything?” 
She smirks, nodding, “he did…” 
She lights right up, “what? Can we get it in time?” 
“He wants you to be his step-mommy,” Haley whispers, stepping into her space and rubbing her arm. “So unless you want Aaron to be the one to propose, you should get a ring.” 
She’s in a state of shock for a while, Jack goes to bed after dinner and she just sits in the living room with her drink and the TV on low and she stares off. She has no idea what to do. Does she tell Aaron? Do they talk about it? Should they get rings together and make a plan? She could just get a ring and ask him? But does she get a ring for herself or for him? Would he even want a ring or would he maybe like a watch?” 
There’s a million things buzzing around her head and then the lock clicks over. The door opens and Aaron’s briefcase hits the floor before it closes. 
“Hey,” he smiles as he sees her. “You’re still up?” 
“What time is it?” She asks, having genuinely no idea. 
“Close to midnight… are you okay?” 
“Hm? Oh yeah,” she shakes her thoughts away and gets up to give him his big home-coming hug. 
She wraps herself around him, breathes him in and settles against his body. His big hands on her back, the warmth of his chest, the feeling of his lips on her forehead… it all feels like home. He’s her home. 
“I love you,” she whispers against his chest. 
He cups her face and pulls her attention up to his eyes. “I love you, sweetheart.” 
“Haley cracked the code,” she breaks down, it all falls out as she looks at him. He’s so soft, he’s so good to her… she wants to spend the rest of her life with him. “Jack wants us to get married too. He wants a stepmom and a stepdad. He wants two complete families at both his houses and I don’t blame him.” 
Aaron’s face lights right up, “he said that? Really?” 
She nods, “Last year he got a stepdad, this year he wants me to join the family…” 
“Do you want to?” He asks, making sure they’re on the same page. 
She nods, letting it all out, “I love you so much Aaron, there is nothing I want more than to spend the rest of my life with you and that beautiful boy upstairs.” 
“What kind of ring do you want?” 
When Christmas morning rolled around, Jack was surprised to see the mountain of presents under the tree. They let him go crazy, opening everything with his name on the tag while Aaron picked up the wrapping paper and put it in a plastic garbage bag. 
Y/N sat back, enjoying the show and taking photos to share with Haley later. 
Everything he wanted is there in front of him, already assembled and batteries put in them. He gets an apple and some candy in his stalking as well as a toothbrush that has the spider-man theme song built in for 2 minutes of optimal brushing. He gets some fun bath soaps and new crayons and a bunch of socks and underwear. It’s a perfect Christmas. 
But there is still 1 more gift. 
“Hey Jack, what’s that?” Aaron points to the tree. A small, little box is wrapped up and placed on a branch. “Did you miss one?” 
He wanders up to the tree and takes the box in his hands. “There’s no name?” 
“Huh,” Y/N pretends to be shocked. “You can open it, maybe you can figure out who it’s for?” 
He carefully peels the wrapping off and notices it's a velvet box. He opens it up like a book and then gasps when he notices it’s a ring. “Dad?” 
“That’s not for me,” he smiles. “Santa must've known I wanted to ask her... can you help me?” 
His face lights right up and he brings it over to Y/N. She hadn’t seen the ring yet, it was a surprise but in the style she explained. He sits down next to her and watches her take it out of the box. “Is this for me?” 
“Will you marry my dad?” he asks, eyes gleaming with the reflection of the Christmas tree lights. 
She tears up, she knew this would be emotional but hearing him say that… makes her heart grow 10 times its size. She nods, “Of course I will, I love him so much.” 
Aaron joins them, kneeling in front of her. He takes the ring from her hand, “I love you,” he reminds her as he slips it onto her ring finger. “I always will.” 
She pulls him up for a kiss and holds him close and Jack takes the initiative to join, getting between them, he snuggles in close. Happier than ever that his Christmas wish came true for a second year in a row. 
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General Taglist 
@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22
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lvrgirl6999 · 2 months
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Forever ~ Dior Goodjohn x fem!reader
summary: you both are friends who secretly like each other
It was Friday night and you’re friends had asked you to come to a party with them, you wanted to stay in but they mentioned Dior was going to be there.
You changed you’re mind so fast, getting up changing into a black tank top, dark blue flare jeans and black converse.
As you finished tying your shoelaces you heard a honk outside.
Rushing out the house you jump in the car and drive off to the party with your friend.
——————————————————————-
You walk in into the party, the smell of sweaty teens and alcohol wafting through the air, your friend dragging you to the couch all your friends are waiting on.
You immediately lock eyes with Dior, her piercing brown eyes holding a look you can’t seem to recognize.
You smile a little before looking away.
——————————————————————
As the party continues you wander out to the backyard where only a few people are, seeing Dior sitting by the pool with a water bottle in her hand.
You walk up to her sitting down next to her.
She turns her head to you, smiling “hey.” you smile back at her.
“Hi.. uhm can we talk?” You ask nervously
She furrows her eyebrows a little “sure , what’s up?”
“Uh so you know how I’m always sorta awkward around you?”
You hesitate before continuing “and like shy?” She nods. “I have feelings for you and it’s ok if you don’t feel the same but I just wanted to tell you.” You say a little too fast but she doesn’t speak until she takes a deep breath, slightly smiling
“Really?”
“Yes.” you say looking the other way till you feel her hand on yours making you look at her again.
“Since when?” She asks.
You take a deep breath before exhaling.
“Since forever I guess. Uh- wait I mean like since we’ve met.”
She smiles fully now.
“I like you too. A lot.” she chuckles smiling.
“Actually? You really like me?” She nods still smiling.
You both just stare at each other till you start leaning in, your lips connecting like a puzzle.
You smile against her lips, her doing the same until your both breathless.
You laugh a little smiling. “Wanna go inside now?
“Yeah.” She says as you both get up, walking in the house, a few people passed out.
You both walk over to your friends hand in hand.
They all look at you both before exchanging looks, smiling.
“What?” You and Dior say in unison.
they all laugh before saying “we knew you guys were be together eventually.”
“Their definitely going to be together forever.” One friend says laughing.
You look at Dior, smiling.
You hoped you’d be together forever.
——————————————————————
OK WHAT ! FIRST ONE SHOT THING HOW DID I DO???
LEMME KNOW IF THERES ANY ERRORS OR ANYTHING !! (Feb 7, 2024, 5:31 p.m.)
(March 23, 2024, 3:27 a.m.): Heyy don’t mind the picture it’s for the aesthetic !!
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sunboki · 1 year
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WHEN SKZ REALIZE THEY WANT TO MARRY YOU
including; ot8
notes; in conclusion, this is a collection of things i’ve daydreamed abt in class.. enjoy
*lowercase intended
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BANGCHAN’s favrorite thing is when you cuddle him. that’s it. just kidding. perhaps it’s the way you look at him, eyes filled with so much love. he usually has to look away in order to maintain his sanity, which doesn’t last long anyway. “you’re so pretty Chan.” your voice, soft and saccharine sweet as you admire—gently holding his cheeks in your hands. he giggles like a lovestruck kid, the tips of his ears flushing a pretty pink. then his mind wanders. wanders to what he would give to experience this with you every day, wake up next to you every day, listen to your voice every day. he wouldn’t be surprised if one of these days he explodes from all the torture his heart puts up with because of your antics. it floors him. no less Hannah teases him about how whipped he is on FaceTime and continuously tells you that she would treat you better. jokingly, of course. or..?
MINHO bids you goodbye, already missing your presence even though you’re simply getting snacks from the supermarket down the street. he’d never admit it, as always. that is until the gentle lull of rain greets him from outside. then it hits him. it’s raining? you don’t have an umbrella with you, do you? cue a worried Minho racing through the downpour in search of you, the last thing he wanted is for you to catch a cold. it’s straight out a kdrama when you step from the entryway with your bags in each hand, gazing at your exhausted boyfriend drenched in rain. without a care you skip towards him, ignoring his obvious distress whilst he shouts a warning to wait for him under the awning. “Baby.. i was gonna bring the umbrella to you. you better not catch a cold.” he scolds, quickly opening the umbrella currently sheltering you two. “you’re so cute Min.” you kiss his nose thoughtfully. he’s blushing red.
CHANGBIN lives for your happiness. he’s accepted his role in life wholeheartedly or whole-chestedly without complaint. the story goes all the way back with Changbin, back when you’d just began dating and he was nervous wreck. before he’d shove his socks in your face just to get playfully slapped, giggling regardless. at the time you sat in their recording studio, listening to a few in-progress tracks 3racha was testing out. but it was when he was recording live, composing in front of you. he was beyond anxious that you wouldn’t like his rapping; until he made eye contact with you. that look. he can’t describe it. was it admiration, awe? whatever it was, he loved it. no, he’d die for you to look at him like that—look at anything like that for the record. such pure and raw happiness he treasured so deeply. that’s when Seo Changbin’s mind flipped a switch to a ‘i need to be with you forever’ mode.
HYUNJIN took you ice skating. not the sweet and romantic ice skating where it looks like you’re both floating on ice, hand in hand. but the ice skating where you’re basically clawing down him like a disoriented cat. granted, Hyunjin isn’t the best skater either, but you make him look like a pro. “tell me why i ever agreed to this.” you grumble, cursing your balance. “hold onto me, love.” your boyfriend instructs, mitten clad hands holding your own with a reassuring squeeze you can’t help but feebly return. slowly but surely he maneuvers you along the ice, guiding your movements oh so carefully. having Hyunjin beside you makes ice skating not as miserable. “i’m gonna be so bruised later.” you mumbled from the bench, watching him untie your skates calmly. and when he looks up to respond? bang. his heart shattered. your face is hidden in his red scarf, cheeks and nose a rosy pink and toboggan adding to the sweetness. he’s gone. oh to tattoo this adorable moment into his eyelids. easily clarification he wants your hand in marriage.
HAN sits on the windowsill. the soft thrum of raindrops hum against the pane, creating a peaceful ambience. he hears you move from your place snuggled in bed, searching for his absent presence. but for the busy Quokka, this is his napping time. he’d arrived home at an ungodly hour last night from the studio, gaze heavy from sleep deprivation as he stumbled into your sheets—still exhausted into the morning. as if for a moment his mind drifted elsewhere, subtly relaxing till his eyes snap back open from a minty smell wafting beside him. there you stood; his big t-shirt that hung off your shoulder lopsidedly, holding two mugs of warm mint tea. taking the cup happily, you watched him stare at you, apparently waiting for something. “c’mere, i’ll always sing lullabies for you.” you laugh at his pout, ushering him to lay down. that saturday he plopped his head onto your lap, listening to you hum him a quiet lullaby like a child. he’d never make it without this, without you. he preferred it that way.
FELIX had been chasing you down the street for 20 minutes, well, because of his own doing. why you were running? because you’d both made a bet that whoever got to the playground down the street from the convenience store faster got $20, and Felix was not one to back down. running as fast as his legs could take him, he just barely stepped foot into the sand when you screamed “i won!” which led to a very begrudging $20 being slapped in your hand. “not fair.” your boyfriend huffed, flopping onto one of the swings nearby to watch you dance around. “or maybe..” you got closer, leaning in with a menacing smile, “—not fast enough.” being sure to wave the crisp bill right in front of his face. “yah.. stop rubbing it in.” he dramatically deflated, hunching over. “ahh i’m just kidding.” you giggled, sitting beside him now as you reached your hand out for him to take the money. “buy us something with it, something fun.” and of course the ginormous rubber duck in the mall had came home with him the next day. something he called the “most fun in his life.” with freckles basically twinkling.. how could you resist.
SEUNGMIN peered over your shoulder, watching the numerous words be typed up on the screen. being the nice guy he was, Seungmin decided to help work on your paper with you. “this?” you pointed to the screen, then glanced back in his direction—not expecting your boyfriend to be wearing his glasses and all. you had to admit, it was beyond charming. he nodded quickly in reply, appearing more focused than you. however, the way your shoulders trembled with laughter didn’t go unnoticed, Seungmin cocking a playful brow. “what?” he teasingly hovered in front of your screen, dissolving you into louder a fit of laughter. “you’re just so handsome with glasses, Mr. Seungmin.” the title earned a snort from him, shaking his head. “or should i say, my husband.” the room got quiet. “..are we engaged?” another burst of giggles from you, he was so serious and it was breaking you. “no, but one day.” you promised softly, watching a big smile tug at his lips. so pretty now that he didn’t conceal that beautiful smile. “one day.”
JEONGIN didn’t waste time when he heard the smash of glass against your tile flooring echo along the halls. “i’m okay!” you call out quickly, but Jeongin was already there. and despite your assurance, you still had multiple cuts scattered along your now bloodied hands. “Don’t move.” your boyfriend gently instructed, carefully maneuvering around the glass to scoop you off your feet with ease—funny that the ‘baby’ of the group was so much stronger than expected, sitting you on the bathroom counter to patch up. “you shouldn’t just tell me you’re okay, you could’ve gotten really hurt.“ his knitted brows and jutting lip told you he was worried, and it utterly melted your heart. “let me take care of you sometimes. i love to take care of you.” he lied. he wanted to take care of you all the time, not just sometimes. to be the one putting bandaids on for you and sitting by your bedside when you were sick to kiss your forehead. god, did he mention you’d look stunning in wedding attire?
taglist — @starlostseungmin
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all rights reserved for @sunboki
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bb-eilish · 1 year
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𝒜𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒻𝒾𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁 𝐿𝓊𝓈𝓉
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pairing: AI!Soobin x f!reader
warnings; swearing, pet names, dirty talk, multiple smut scenes, pining, nipple play, rough sex, phone call, praise, robo soobin, no condom use, creampie, jealousy/delusion, stalking, kissing, blonde soobin. (if i missed something pls lemme know!!)
summary; Your close friend’s new riches makes christmas forever memorable.
A/N: I read @writerpetals “artificial heart” and couldn’t help but picture soobin, please read their work it’s great!
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𝓐 gasp is heard through the entire restaurant, you would care about the dozen eyes suddenly on you, but you can’t. Your closest friend, Yoon, has struck gold, she’s been working as a higher up at your guys’ office job for the longest time and has been very buddy buddy with the CEO. So when the former CEO retired she left the company to Yoon, who now has inherited a million dollar company!
“You’re kidding.” Your mouth is glued to the ground as she beams at you, “Isn’t this amazing? Just in time for Christmas too. I worked for so long and it finally really payed off. Now I just need to find you a present.” She thoughtfully looks at her food, the flame of the candle between you two lighting up her features warmly. “Heh, if only you could buy me a boyfriend.” You joke as you poke at the salad in your dish.
“Boyfriend hm? I see…” She smiles as you both carry on, dinner is filled with disbelief as she tells you just how much she has now and the gossip the old CEO told her.
///////////
“Merry Christmas, Y/n. Bring him in over here!” Yoon greets and then shouts behind her, the smile on your face twists into confusion. “What?” You’re confused even further when two men heave a box up the steps to your porch and slide in through the door. They drop it off by the tree and you gape. A box that’s at least 6’0 sits next to your tree now, the presents under it look much smaller in comparison.
Yoon’s smile almost hurts your eyes as she beams at you, “I think you’re gonna love it!” She goes in for a hug that squeezes the air from your lungs, “Yea, I bet I will. I hope you like your presents.” Your nerves flare at the idea of her not liking what you got her because of this unbelievably tall present.
“You seriously didn’t have to get me anything so big, I’d be happy with a card honestly.” She shakes her head at your modesty and smiles, “You deserve the world Y/n, don’t worry about it.”
“Coffee? We can open presents after I make some?”
“Sounds lovely, be quick or I might open your gift myself.” You giggle at her and go to put a K-cup into the machine. While waiting you can’t help but to admire your kitchen, it’s your favorite style and just the right size. It’s perfect and even better with the adorable christmas decorations everywhere. But sort of….empty. The decorations are nice and all, but ever since your ex left awhile ago it’s missing something.
The sound of the coffee squirting into your cup takes you out of your thoughts as you wait till it’s done and put a new one in. “Here, coconut french roast, just how you like it.” Bending over slightly, you pass her the hot christmas mug and go back to the machine. It’s just finishing up your cup.
“Alright, open this first.” You grab a small wrapped box and pass it to her, the snowflake paper contrasting to her red and back flannel pajamas. She pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear before digging into the bright paper. “Oh my god, this is so pretty. Is this the one we saw in the window of that one store?” She asks in awe, “Hehe, yeah it is. Do you like it?” Watching her squeal makes you feel warm, she means so much to you and you can only hope she knows it.
“I love it, thank you so much. Here open this!”
You both go back and forth opening the presents until the last one is inevitably the tall one. It intimidates you as you step closer and dig a nail under the tape that’s stuck at the sides. You jump when she changes her mind about you opening it, “Actually, y/n. Turn around, I’ll let you know when to look.”
You arch a brow at her but turn around nonetheless, there’s the sound of paper, cardboard, and then a button. She squeals happily as she tells you to turn around. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you fidget with your fingers and swing around.
First you blink, and then again, and once more. A man stands there, a gentle smile on his face as he greets you. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. L/n. I’m Soobin, I hope I can be of service.” You hesitantly meet his hand. “Um, I’m sorry, I’m confused.” You eye both of them until he responds.
“I am your assistant, I was customized for you.” That honestly made your confusion worse as you look towards Yoon, she laughs as she begins to explain. “This is Soobin, your AI assistant. He cost a pretty penny but it was so worth it, once I saw how customizable he was, I knew he could be the one for you.”
“He’s a robot?” You ask dumbfounded, he smiles again. A very human-sounding chuckle leaves him as he nods. You eye him up and down not so subtly, his hair is almost a platinum blonde, it sits neatly styled over his forehead. He wears a tidy looking black knit sweater matched with jeans and sneakers.
"Looks real doesn't he? He can do whatever you like, he can cook,clean, grocery shop, even drive a car." She stops to take a step closer to you, leaning into your ear. "And he's made for you in other ways as well." She laughs before getting a loud notification. You stare at her wide eyed as she apologizes and leaves to go manage the company or whatever she said.
"Merry Christmas Ms. L/n. Would you like me to clean up?"
You peer around your living room, the ground is covered in hundreds of pieces of wrapping paper. "Uh, sure. Thank you..." You can’t help but eye him curiously as he gathers the paper and random boxes around you. You have to admit, he does look incredibly real. Especially when he bends over so fluently to grab at the garbage. He even breaths out a little while he does it as well.
“Where should I put these?” He questions when he’s done, it honestly scares you a bit as you were spacing out — thinking about him of course, he’s an entire robot.
“Oh uh, the trash cans are in the garage. That way.” You point to the correct door, he nods with a smile and is on his way.
The coffee in your hands grows colder as you watch him, you’d be worried about being creepy with how much you’re staring, but something tells you it probably doesn’t matter.
“All done. Do you need anything else Ms. L/n?” He stands before you with his hands crossed in front of him. “No, thank you for cleaning. You can…s-sit down if you’d like? We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other anyways.” He smiles again and you try not to pay attention to how you gulp in response. Soobin swings himself around and sits on the other end of your couch, looking at his hands as he outstretched them curiously.
“So, Soobin. I know you can do house chores, what else can you do?” This is the best small talk you’re able to conjure up at the moment, you’re acutely aware that he’s metal and wires. “Besides house hold chores, I can answer questions — as I’m connected to the internet — I know every language and am fully trained in multiple martial arts. I was programmed to protect you, as well as be a companion. I hope we are able to get along.”
He smiles at you once more, the dimples in his cheeks apparent as he does so. He’s so human it’s uncanny.
“Wow, that’s amazing. I’ve actually been a bit worried about living on my own. Is there anything else you can do?”
“Yes, I’ve also been programmed to know exactly what you are into sexually.” Your eyes basically pop out of your head in response, warmth settles over your skin as you let your imagination run a little too wild in the moment.
“O-oh. Well, uh, I’m going to take a shower, make yourself…at home.”
You scurry off to your bedroom, thoughts absolutely taken over by his words. You were very open with Yoon about what you were into, you’ve been friends for years so it was only natural that the subject was brought up multiple times. And now you have a robot assistant who looks like he was modeled after…well.. a model, and knows how to please you.
You’re going through your clean hamper, as you haven’t put them away yet, when a knock sounds from your door.
“Ms. L/n, since it’s 9:27 in the morning, shall I make breakfast?” His muffled voice still has heat settling over your cheeks as you respond.
“Oh, sure. You can make whatever you want, I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.” To be honest, you couldn’t think of a single breakfast food at that moment. Too much has happened in such a short time, you’re still a little stunned. Soobin hums and agrees and you go back to searching for clothes to wear.
////////////////////
You’re shower was 15 minutes longer than usual, Soobin was on the front of your mind and because of that you were in space for most of it.
The bathrooms warm and foggy atmosphere contrasted the rest of your house, it was cold but not annoyingly stuffy when you creaked the door open. “Ms. L/n breakfast is ready, I have made pancakes and french toast.”
“I don’t remember having frozen pancakes and french toast?” You mumble as you step into the kitchen to ogle the delicious food on your table.
“I made them from scratch, I hope you enjoy them.” He bows before turning around to handle the small mess he created. He made them….from scratch? He even topped it off with a few blueberries on the butter that sat on top of the stack of pancakes. The food looked like it was stolen right from a commercial.
“They look delicious, thank you, Soobin.” You say as you slip into your seat and pluck your fork from the table. “Of course.”
Cutting the pancakes was almost mesmerizing, as they were unbelievably pillowy and soft. The taste was so much better than you imagined as well.
“Soobin, oh my god. These are amazing.”
“Thank you, Ms. L/n. I’m glad you like them.” He smiles, it’s so human like it catches you off guard.
He leaves you to eat and only comes back to take your dirty dishes. Wow, he’s treating you better than all of your ex’s combined, it has your eyebrows shooting up in surprise.
That’s how the remainder of Christmas went, with you being surprised at how nice he was, even if he was AI and programmed that way.
“What do you do at night? Do I need to…uh…plug..you in? Or..?” He didn’t come with any plugs or anything so you’re a little confused if he has to recharge or something. “Oh, no. I sleep as well, it’s obviously not the same as human sleep, but same idea.” You open your mouth in an O shape as you nod.
“Well, goodnight, Soobin.”
“Goodnight, Ms. L/n. Merry Christmas!”
//////////
Sleeping was difficult the first night, knowing he was “sleeping” in your guest bedroom. You tossed and turned for hours before barely being able to slip fully away. Too bad that lasted an hour and now your alarm is blaring. The sigh you let out is almost pathetic as you groggily rise to your feet.
Your apartment is eerily quiet and you momentarily forget what’s missing. That is until the door opens and he walks in, putting down the groceries he bought on the counter.
Rubbing at your eyes you ask, “What are those?”
“I bought ingredients for dinner tonight, as I know what food you look. So, we’re having your favorite italian dish.”
“Oh, wow. Thank you, Soobin. Heh, do you know my social security number too?” You chuckle, “Yes, it is 892-“
“Okay! So glad you know that.” You nervously chuckle.
///////////////
3 Months have passed since you were given Soobin, he’s been unbelievably helpful so you’re grateful Yoon spent the money on him, because you did NOT have that much. Soobin and you have grown closer as well and you can’t remember what it was like without him.
“And I told him to fuck off because he literally tried to get with my sister.” Yoon grumpily exclaims as she tips her back to down another shot. “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was, she was also like 17 at the time.��� Your mouth falls open in shock as she nods her head drunkly. You yawn and go to rub your eyes, stopping because it took you so long to do your eyeliner earlier. “Hey, I’m gonna call Soobin to get me, do you want a ride home?”
She shakes her head with a smile before saying, “Don’t worry, I have a chauffeur now. Isn’t that so weird?” She giggles. You dig out your phone from your purse that sits on your lap, the dim lights of the club making the screen much brighter than you remembered. Squinting, you try your best to find your home phone number, turning down the brightness is useless because apparently it’s already all the way down. Finally you find the number and press it, it only takes a couple rings before he greets you with the voice you’ve grown very fond of.
“Hello, Ms. L/n. Are you enjoying your night out?” He’s as kind as ever, it brings a sappy smile to your face as you answer. “Yea, thank you. Could you pick me up by any chance? I took Yoon’s car so my car is still at home.” You yell into the phone, it’s so loud you wonder if yelling is even working.
“Yes, of course. I’m leaving right now.”
“Don’t you need the address?” Your eyebrows furrow.
“I always know your location thanks to your phone. I’ll be there in approximately 16 minutes.”
“Thank you.” You hang up and try your best to stay awake, you haven’t gone to a club in a little while and it’s becoming obvious. Even though the bass from the DJ is basically making you vibrate, you still try and fight off sleep.
“Hey, uh, Yoon. I’m gonna wait outside for Soobin.” You lean on your arm as your eyes droop.
“I’ll see you tomorrow at the office okay?” She’s even smiley and go lucky when drunk, you seriously envy her.
“Alright, be safe. See ya tomorrow.”
The warmth of having to navigate through grinding bodies has nausea forming in your stomach, it only subsides once you swing open the door. The air feels refreshing as you stumble out. It was like a sauna inside, the cool air against your flushed skin has you shuttering out a breath of relief.
Glancing around you spot a bench to your left and oh does it look inviting. Sitting down, you pluck your phone from your purse to check the time, 13 more minutes. The bouncer on the other side of the door is busy talking, as well as the people in line but it all blurs into each other. God, tomorrow is gonna be a bitch.
Your head hangs low as a breeze flows up your dress, good thing your purse is settled on your lap or else the line of people would have a great view of your underwear. Time is warped in your head and you swear it’s been only a minute before someone is calling your name. Your head raises, higher and higher, until you make eye contact with Soobin. He’s so tall, you love how tall he is. He’s so attractive.
“Ms. L/n. Are you ready to leave?” He holds out a hand for you to take, which you obviously do because walking through the parking lot in this state in these heels would be impossible. “Yes, thank you, Soobin.” Your body can’t help but lean against his figure as you both make your way to your car.
While getting in you giggle to yourself drunkly, slouching over the center console. “Here, Ms. L/n. Let me buckle you in.”
“Y/n.” You smile.
“Excuse me?”
“Call me Y/n. Ms. L/n sounds like my mother.” You giggle once more, more heat spreading over your face if possible. Even more when the hand clicking your seatbelt drifts across your thighs. It confuses you, isn’t he AI? Isn’t he free from making human mistakes? Did he do that on purpose then? Your drunken mind has your memories a little fuzzy but he treats you like a girlfriend, now even down to the teasing touches. You’ll have to ask Yoon about that when you see her next.
“Soobin, can you help the hangover I’m gonna have tomorrow? I have work.” The car purrs to life as he presses the button and puts it in drive. “Of course, Y/n. I’m happy to help.”
The way home was strange, you honestly blame it all on the alcohol. Whenever you peaked over at him you couldn’t help but ogle, even if he was AI, he was unbelievably attractive. How did Yoon know your exact type, sure you talk about your sex and love life with her but she really hit the nail on the head. The way his blonde hair falls almost angelic like over his skin has completely stolen your attention.
The thoughts have your skin warming again and a slight heat being lit in your gut.
“We’re here, do you need me to unbuckle you?” He catches you off guard, you were still mid swoon when he started talking.
“Oh, no I got it. Thank you, Soobin.” He nods before stepping out of your car and circling around to open yours as well. Your legs are a bit wobbly, so when you take a tumble he’s quick to wrap an arm around your waist. You need to sleep, the heat inside you seems to be hotter and it’s really starting to affect you. You seriously just want him to take you right then and there.
“Here, you should eat. I’ll make you something.” He proposes when you’re inside, slumped over a chair. “No, it’s okay. I changed my mind, I just want to go to bed. You should too, goodnight, Soobin.”
“Oh, goodnight, Y/n.”
///////////
Regret. You truly regret dismissing Soobin’s attempts of helping your inevitable hang over. As you sit up in bed your head pounds annoyingly. It’s 6:09 AM, you work at 7:30, hopefully it’s enough time to reduce the pulsing in your skull.
“Good morning, Y/n. Are you feeling okay?” He asks you once you stumble out of bed and into your living quarters. “No, do you know if we have any pain killers?” You question, rubbing your face with your hands soothingly. A hand comes to rub your back as he answers, “I’ll get those right away, are you hungry?” You don’t know how he does it, but you can only concentrate on his hand as it rubs against your clothed back. Even the pounding in your head is an after thought compared to him. You manage to nod your head ‘yes’.
His touch is fleeting and leaves a subtle want in you as he opens up a random cabinet and searches for the medicine.
“Here, let me get you some water.” It’s really not your fault for how you feel, he was made to be specifically your type. The man of your dreams basically. He slides a cup of water your way, “Thank you, Soobin.” Your head tips back as you cram the pills into your mouth and take a swig of the water.
“How about we do something tonight? Just you and me? I really appreciate what you do around here.”
Even for a robot, he pauses, his eyes are wide as he processes your words before nodding. “Of course, I look forward to it.”
/////////////
You’re showered and fed by the time you get to your car, waving to Soobin as if he’s your house wife. You really hate leaving him, his presence has made your home so warm and comfy. Being single isn’t the most fun and he’s really made you miss being in a relationship. That is until you make it to your office and hear his voice. His makes Soobin’s somehow even nicer.
“Morning, Y/n. I heard you and the boss had a fun time last night. Wish you would’ve invited me.”
Sigh.
“Morning to you too, Hyun. Sorry, I didn’t know you would’ve wanted to go.” You swing around to face him, he leans against your door frame with his hands in his pockets.
“Maybe you could make it up to me? Whaddya say? You, me. Dinner tonight?” You were expecting this honestly, Hyun is constantly trying to advance this “relationship” as he calls it. He’s honestly like a mosquito. “Sorry, I can’t. I have plans with my friend.”
He only smiles and nods, “Do I know her?” His question catches you off guard, “Uh no, you don’t…” Sitting down, you turn on your pc and see what pages you have to edit today. But of course, it’s never that easy. “What’s her name?” You hold back the urge to smash your head into your keyboard.
Well, this is gonna be interesting.
“Soobin.”
A beat passes before his annoying laugh is heard, “That’s funny…that..that sounds like a guy’s name..” His laugh stops when you say “It is.”
“Oh, are you dating…?”
Your fists clench at that, “No, now I really need to get started.”
You wish it ended there, but it didn’t, not in your office, not at the printer, not even when you were walking to the bathroom.
Finally it’s time to go home, 5:26 and you’re so ready to do something with Soobin, without Hyun especially. You thankfully didn’t see him on your way out either, which was weird to be honest. He always makes a move on you in the parking lot. Maybe your constant rejection finally got through?
////////////
Driving home was not fun, you swear this one car was following you. They were far enough away that you couldn’t see who was driving, but you know they were following you. Instead of going straight to your house you took a small detour to get them off your ass. Which thankfully worked. The car comes to a halt as you wait for your garage door to open, as soon as you’re inside you close it immediately. Hopefully that creep didn’t spot you.
“Soobin, I’m home.” A beat passes and still no response.
You cock an eyebrow at the silence. Hanging up your jacket on your coat hanger, you find a note on the counter.
Be back soon, getting dinner.
-Soobin
A breath of relief leaves you as you read it. That gives you enough time to change out of your work clothes. The pencil skirt you’re currently wearing might look great but it does not feel like it. Your legs are chafing and you’re pleased Soobin isn’t here to witness you shuffle awkwardly to your bedroom.
Unzipping the skirt snd unhooking your bra had you melting on the spot, even more so when you put on your favorite pair of fuzzy pajama pants and a nice tank top. Taking off your makeup was the cherry on top, you could seriously just throw yourself on your bed and pass out. But you’re way too excited to hang out with Soobin.
Knock Knock
Your head snaps towards the echoing knocking. Soobin has a spare key so it’s not him. Nevertheless, you go to open the door.
“Can I help yo-“ Color drains from your face, why is he here? At your door step? With a bouquet of flowers no less?
“Y/n, I’m glad I found the right house. I wanted to talk to you.” He smiles at you like he didn’t show up on your door step like an abandoned child. “How did you get my address?” Honestly you regret asking, you didn’t want to know.
He laughs before answering, “The only way I could without asking and sounding creepy, I followed you home!”
Your jaw drops, “You..followed me..home..?” You’re sure you’re on an episode of punked or something, this can’t be real.
He nods his head, hand sticking out to pass you the bouquet of tulips and daisies. A moment passes before you hesitantly take them, awkwardly holding them up. “I know you said you had plans tonight, but I really think you shouldn’t hang out with this Soobin guy. After all, you have me and he sounds like a total creep.”
You’ve seriously had enough, you draw the line at him questioning Soobin’s motives and yknow, him following you home.The grip on the frail stems tightens and the stinging pain of thorns is second in line to the steam coming out of your ears.
“Okay, I’ve had enough. We are not friends, you are a major creep. You followed me home yet have the audacity to point fingers at Soobin. You’ll never even be half the man he is, now get off of my porch and don’t even think of even looking in my direction again.” Your teeth are sore after your word vomit from being clenched so tightly.
He’s expressionless until his eyebrows furrow, an almost confused look settles on his face. “I’m not sure you understand, you and me are meant to be. Soobin brainwashed you or something to think of me like this, I didn’t think it was this bad. Come here.” He goes to grip your free hand, his sweaty palm has a shiver of disgust ring through you.
“No, don’t touch me. Fuck off.” The flowers fall to the ground as you try to pry his greasy fingers from your skin. The sound of something closing is lost on your ears as blood rushes by them from the sudden adrenaline.
“I’m trying to help you , Y/n. I know you love me.”
Tears prick your eyes , you’re totally overwhelmed and starting to panic.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” That voice didn’t come from the man desperately trying to kidnap you, it was from him.
“Soobin, please help. He won’t let go.” Relief floods your system and your knees almost give out when he steps forward. “Let go of her.” His voice shocks you, it’s stern and low, you try to not think about how hot he sounds.
“Oh, you’re Soobin? You’re the one corrupting my love.” Hyun let’s go to turn around fully, trying his best to look intimidating. It’s not working, Soobin is a solid foot taller than him. Hyun doesn’t seem to be aware of it though as he goes to poke a crude finger into the hard chest of your friend.
Soobin remains calm and it shocks you, AI or not, Hyun is unbelievably annoying.
“Do I need to help you leave? Or can you do it by yourself?” Soobin steps closer, a gulp sounds from Hyun and you have to stifle a giggle.
“This isn’t over, Y/n is mine.” He says before scurrying off to his car.
“Soobin, oh my god. Thank you.” You breath out a shuddered sigh as you basically fall into his embrace. “Hey, it’s okay. He’s gone, let’s go inside and eat while dinner is hot, Angel.”
You nod your head before pausing, what did he just call you? Better question, should you change your underwear? Because oh my god, that was hot. Angel is a special name for you, almost all of your ex’s called you that in bed. Hearing it leave Soobin’s mouth has something stirring inside.
“Uh, okay…” You swallow.
The house feels so much nicer when Soobin is home, so much more lively.
“What movie should we watch?” He asks, removing the takeout from the plastic bags. While thinking, your eyes drift down to his hands and notice how his veins protrude every time he grabs something, you follow one until it disappears under his skin.
“Y/n, are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?” Your friend asks concerned.
“Huh? Sorry, I’m fine, thank you. Do you wanna watch the first Harry Potter movie?”
“Absolutely, I love that movie. Here, take this. This is your fried rice, this is your egg drop soup, these are your crab rangoons, and this is your chow mein.” The food is hot in your arms, almost too hot, as you both walk towards your couch. You happily set the food on your coffee table.
////////////////////
Harry Potter was captivating for the first 30 minutes, then Soobin became a little more interesting.
“Are you serious? I had no idea.” Your stunned face has him throwing back his head in laughter.
“Yea, it’s true. Maybe try using google?” He teases.
“Oh shut up…” You push his shoulder, something catches your attention as you do so. His eyes. You’ve never been so close to really study his eyes before. To test out your theory you put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes change into a darker brown with a tinge of red. Like a chocolate covered strawberry almost.
“I didn’t know your eyes changed color?”
“They’re mood changing, do you like them?” He smiles at you.
“I really do, they’re kind of red right now, what does that mean?” You lean in and pull down his lower eyelid to get a better look.
“Heh, it happens when you touch me” Your eyes go wide, hearing that makes you aware of how close you are and how your hand is still on his face. Harry Potter is only a sound in the background as Soobin grabs the hand touching face, and holds it.
The feelings you’ve been holding in feels like water boiling over the sides of a pot. The way he holds your hand, his gaze of red that’s becoming more apparent the more you look at one another. “Soobin…” Your voice is breathy and you’re not exactly sure why you said his name, it just felt right.
“Angel..” He replies, leaning closer. The name once again does something to you. Your heart might beat out of your chest if you’re not careful. You peak at his lips once more, the natural pout he has is calling you and you can’t take it anymore. Meeting him halfway, your lips shyly meet. It feels amazing though, you’ve been wondering what it’d be like to kiss him for so long now.
The kiss deepens as you both gain confidence, his free hand comes to settle on your waist.
The need for air stings eventually, it pains you more to pull away but you must. It only lasts for a second as you briefly make heated eye contact again, your lips slam together in a lust filled kiss. It’s messy and has the hand on your waist tightening it’s hold and pulling you even closer into him. Your own free hand makes it to his cheek.
His tongue makes its way into your mouth, this is so unlike the first kiss you shared. He was hesitant but now it’s completely different. The heat in the air is getting to you as you let out a whine.
“Soobin, I need you, please.” Your voice is pathetic as you beg for him to do something.
“I didn’t know you’d be so needy so fast…Angel.” The name has your heart skipping a beat and your thighs itching to rub together, Soobin smirks at your reaction. The hand holding your own gently lets go in favor of pushing you back against the couch. Your shirt has ridden a bit at the bottom, the cold-ish polyester against your exposed lower back has you jolting a little.
“You think I didn’t notice how you reacted to that name? Angel, you’re so cute, y’know that?” He hovers over you, leaning down to messily kiss down your neck, a hand moves from next to you to up the sides of your shirt.
The want you’ve been hiding has you already clenching around nothing as he rests his weight on you, now you’re able to feel how mouthwateringly hard he is. Which honestly confuses you, but he was also made for this so you don’t question it too much. You’re not sure you’re even able to right now, the way his hands feel on your skin, as well as how he’s working your collarbone like it owes him money.
Times like this you’re glad you don’t live in an apartment, the desperate noises he’s already pulling out of you would be tricky with such close neighbors.
“Can I take off your shirt?” He sweetly questions, tearing away from your skin to look you in the eyes. His eyes are a deeper wine colored red you take note as you nod your head. Soobin dips back in to kiss you again before removing the offending clothing.
In pure desperation, you raise his own shirt enough to feel his skin on yours. It’s addicting and you don’t stop raising his shirt until he gets the memo and grabs the back of it, pulling it over his head. The sight has you practically drooling. He’s toned, not too muscly, but just enough that it catches your attention.
“This is so cute on you.” He breathes out, tugging lightly on your bra before continuing, “But I really need to take it off.” You nod and clench when his hands warmly drift up your back to the clasp.
Your nipples instantly harden at the cool air and especially how he’s looking at you. His gaze lowers to your chest and eyes your nipples stiffening, without a second thought he latches on to one and sucks. His tongue occasionally flicks over it and it has your back arching, breathy whines leave your mouth as one of your hands ends up gripping the strands of hair at the back of his head.
“Soobin, please.”
“You sound so pretty for me. What do you need Angel?” He asks, an inch above your wet chest.
“I need to feel you, I’ve been waiting so long for this.”
That causes him to smirk, “You’ve been thinking about me? About us?”
You nod, heated cheeks on display. “How could I deny you, Angel.” He says before unbuttoning your jeans, he slips the zipper down and shuffles them off your legs. Now it’s time for him to undo his belt and nothing could break your attention away. The outline of him is obvious as he works his belt and pants.
“Ready?” He questions as he grips himself.
You nod as a finger slips up and down your slit, it has your hips bucking into his hand. He adds another and is thoroughly enjoying how wet you are for him. His fingers settle on your ever-growing clit and wow, your imagination does not compare to the actual thing.
He scoops some of your slick up and spreads it along his shaft, a couple veins shine because of it and it almost has you coming already. “Soobin.” You whine impatiently, a light chuckle leaves him as he guides himself to your entrance. One last glance is shared between you two before he pushes in, the initial sting has your fingers gripping the fabric under you, while a gasp leaves you both.
It’s a delicious feeling really, the fullness of him mixed with the pure intimacy of it all. He bottoms out and waits for you to adjust to him, “Y-you can move.” You’re already out of breath, the wind being knocked out of you when he simply pushed in.
For the first few thrusts Soobin is relatively quiet, it isn’t until he sets a good pace that the sounds rip out of him. “Fuck, you’re so good for me, Y/n. I knew you’d be.” His hands grip your hips to stop you from scooting upward every time he thrusts, the grip tightens every time you clench around him as well.
“From the second I saw you, I wanted to have you like this. God, you feel amazing. So tight and wet for me, you’re perfect.” The praise hurtles you closer and closer to finishing around him.
He breaths out and pushes himself to sit on his knees, your legs are thrown over his shoulders messily as he picks up his pace. The sound of skin hitting skin and your own whiney moans mixed with his gruff and gravely ones fills the room. Soobin takes it a step further and grinds hotly into you a few times. Pleasure fizzles in your abdomen and you know you don’t have long.
The way his hair sticks to his forehead, and how his skin is damp is a sight you’ve been waiting for. How gone he looks as he plunges himself inside you, deeper and deeper. You probably look pretty fucked out yourself, knowing you. His sneaky fingers trail down to your clit and his thumb doesn’t let up, even when you start spasming a bit.
“Soobin I’m so close.” Your face nuzzles into your arm as the growing feeling is close to exploding.
“Look at me.” You can’t hear him very well thanks to the blood rushing behind your ears so he takes it upon himself. His pointer finger and thumb grip your chin to move your head accordingly, his eyes meet yours again and the band snaps within you. Hips buck into his and your back arches, your eyes clamp shut as the euphoric feeling spreads from your pelvis to your limbs and abdomen.
He keeps going until he can’t anymore and stills. Loud groans are heard as he finishes in you and you hope you never forget how he sounds.
“Don’t worry, you can’t get pregnant from me.” He huffs out, which causes a laugh to leave you at the timing of his words.
/////////////////////
“Hey, Soob. My work is having a ‘bring your partner to work’ day today. I keep forgetting to ask you about it, do you wanna go? I’d like having you there.” You grip his arm in a hug as you ask.
“Sounds fun, I’d love being there with you. I’ll get dressed.” He smiles, giving you a sweet kiss before he departs.
The ride there was nice, Soobin just naturally relaxes you. Usually going to work sucks but he makes it better.
“Ok, here we are. I’m on the 6th floor.” You shut your door as does he.
“Wow and here I thought you were the CEO.” He jokes , taking your free hand in his. You side eye him with a joking glare. “Keep it up and I’ll make you take the stairs.”
Walking onto your floor was interesting, couples littered the desks and it was odd to see. Usually your floor is quiet and honestly…boring. The atmosphere was less gray and you liked it.
“Wow is this your office?” Soobin eyes the room with wide eyes.
“Yeah, do you like it? I think it represents me pretty well.” You grip a seat and drag it over to your chair before patting it. He obliges and sits down, peering at your computer screen as you turn it on and already get to clicking stuff.
“I will be right back, I have to get what I printed. I don’t like constantly staring at a screen so I print out my work, so wait here, k?” He nods and leans on your desk. You take a moment to admire his outfit , mainly his hair. It sits dreamily infront of his eyes, sometimes you honestly wonder how he’s able to see.
The printer soon comes into view and you can spot your paper on it as well. The second it’s in your hands you spin your heels and book it, not fast enough apparently.
“Y/n, wait up, let me walk with you.”
There’s no way. You’re hearing things. Turning your head around, you peak over your shoulder to incredulously gaze at Hyun, a soft slimy smile on his face.
“Can I help you?” You don’t stop walking, he unfortunately catches up to you though.
“Well, I was just wondering if you wanted to go to dinner tonight. Couples day has me in the mood for some…company. Ever since my girlfriend left me 5 years ago, y’know? And I think we’re the only ones here without a partner, so it’s a match made in hea-“ You finally enter your office and see Soobin wiggling a pencil in the air, that paired with Hyun’s reaction to Soobin even being there has a fierce giggle threatening to spill out.
“What’s he doing here? This is partners day.”
You sit down next to Soobin and he possessively reaches out for your hand, never breaking his glare towards the intruder.
“Well, Hyun, if you must know, he’s my boyfriend.” Your unimpressed stare doesn’t falter as he processes this information.
“You can leave now.” Soobin deadpans, getting up to shut the door. Hyun doesn’t get a word in before your boyfriend shuts the door in his face. You both share a look before he comes to sit down, patting your back soothingly.
You really thought it ended there because he didn’t bother you for the rest of the day.
That night when you’re perched on Soobin’s lap, lustful kisses being pressed onto the skin of your neck, is when you unexpectedly get a phone call. You’re literally humping his bulge when it happens. “Who is it?” He asks, feeling you up regardless.
Peering over his shoulder, “Mm, just a random number. Should I answer it?” You smile flirtatiously at him. He catches on and leans back to grab the phone, giving you a wink before you press accept.
“Hello?” It takes your boyfriend a millisecond to get back to his antics, but this time his hands are on your ass, guiding your movements over him. His eyes tinge pink before settling for the usual red they usually are during certain escapades.
“Is this Y/n? It’s me Hyun.” Soobin halts, you both stare at each other in shock. His eyebrows furrow, he goes back to what he was doing, now, with a purpose and you can definitely feel the difference. The wine red of his eyes change once more, this time a deep purple.
He nips at your neck and it’s starting to become difficult to speak coherently.
“H-how did you get my number?” His hands knead your ass and the button of his jeans hits your clit, you try to cough away the gasp that escapes you but you’re sure it didn’t help.
“I got it from the office’s-“ You don’t hear the rest because Soobin has decided to turn around and drop you on your bed. You giggle at the way you bounce before remembering you’re on the phone, you laugh out a “sorry, what?” before remembering who you’re talking to.
“Are you okay, Y/n?” The more Hyun presses the more clothes you lose. Your boyfriend pops open your pant’s button and fly before tearing down the pants from your legs, your shirt next.
“Y-yea I’m fine. Is there something you need, Hyun?”
You thankfully weren’t wearing a bra, Soobin seems very grateful. His bites and sucks has your underwear dampening even more and an insatiable need falling over you. Hyun says something but you can’t make it out. The man on top of you takes the hand holding your phone and sets it on your comforter, plucking the device from your grip and throwing it into your pillows.
“Got you all to myself now. God, you’re so wet.” He slips off your ruined underwear and slides a few fingers up and down your wetness, getting them ready for you.
The first breach of his middle finger is satisfying, but not as much as his cock. You’ll get that eventually though.
It doesn’t take long for him to have added another and to slam them into you. His fingers are long and slender, they have your thighs clamping together. Which Soobin is having none of, his free hand forces your legs apart and your clit throbs from the feeling.
“Soobin, please fuck me. Need you so bad.” Your hands settle on his lower abdomen, slightly scratching the skin. “I love when you beg for me, love when you beg for me to fuck this tiny little cunt.” Your lower lip trembles at his words and you mentally prepare yourself. Soobin isn’t usually this dirty, but you’re not complaining.
The man teases your slit, sticking in his tip and hissing when your walls beg him to keep going. But he pulls out in favor of swirling his head around your, now, wet clit. “You love this don’t you, baby?” He huffs out. Before you’re able to answer, he pushes in, you throw your head back and enjoy the feeling of his veins and ridges gliding along your gummy walls so perfectly.
“There you go, baby, you like it when I fill this cute cunt up with my cock?” Nodding and whining wasn’t cutting it this time.
“Use your words.”
“Y-yes, I love it.” Your hands reach for his shoulders, trying to stay coherent for a little longer.
“I know, baby, I know.”
His thrusts pick up momentum and soon his hips are smacking into you. “You’re mine, aren’t you, baby? All mine, no on else’s.” His pelvic bone grazes your clit and you’re finding it hard to speak. All that comes out is babbling and needy whines and moans, “That good? Am I fucking you that good?” You nod furiously, hoping he’ll take that as an answer.
Just like the first time you had sex, he takes your legs into his hands. But this time he presses them to your chest and groans at the sight of you so exposed for him. The way your cunt takes him so effortlessly does things to him.
Soon, he notices the way you clench, and how your breathing becomes quicker. Suddenly, a moan that does not belong to either of you echos. His eyebrows furrow but when he makes eye contact with your pillows he understands. He tries not to stop his pace too much as he leans forward to rummage for your phone.
His lips curl in a devious smirk when he sees the call is still going.
“You enjoying this, Hyun? How I fuck my girl? Do you wish you were here instead of me? Getting to see and feel how fucking wet she is, how tight her little cunt is? What it looks like when she’s full of cum? Call her one more time and I promise you it’s not going to end well.” The only thing that’s heard is a gasp and a choked moan before Soobin hangs up. He exhales before he grips your thighs and jackhammers his hips into you.
“Coming, fuck, I’m coming.” You practically yell, legs shaking as you release all over his cock. The added wetness and the way there’s a white ring forming around his base pushes him over the edge, he spills inside you, hips stuttering to an end.
“Hopefully that helps get him off your back, but I’m happy to do this again if it doesn’t.” He smiles, leaning in to capture your lips.
“You okay?” He questions, pulling out, wiping his forehead with his forearm as well.
“Yea, I am. I love you, Soob.”
The sentiment and the nickname has his dark brown eyes swirl with light pink. “I love you too.”
———————————————————
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