#the other day i was like 'what if i left everything behind to get a job at a type foundry in taiwan. what then.'

[beejunos]

UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader | PART 2

Summary: After your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby, will you be able to mend your relationship?

This is PART 2. Part 1 can be found here.

This is the continuation of @lustylita's wonderful idea, which can be found here. I just had the pleasure of writing it. I hope you enjoy the end of our little story!

Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, some angst

The relationship between you and Alastor had taken a sharp turn for the worse. What used to be a strained but neutral relationship was now strained, uncomfortable, and awkward at best. You found yourself doing everything in your power to avoid him whenever possible.

Each time you and Alastor coincided in a room, a surge of panic would engulf you. The urgency to escape the impending unbearable awkwardness was so tangible it left a metallic taste in your mouth. You would hastily concoct an excuse, no matter how feeble, to flee the scene. The same sense of panic would grip you if he happened to enter a room you were already in.

As you made your hasty retreat, you made a point to never meet his gaze. You were acutely aware that if you did, you would be confronted with the pained expression on his face behind the mask he liked to present to the world, a sight that would be unbearable. Despite Alastor's adeptness at concealing his emotions, you could now sense his anguish from the shadow he cast.

It was something you never anticipated. You never thought you'd harbour any kind of affection towards the man. Yet, after the end of your relationship with Alastor's Shadow, it felt like going through a tumultuous breakup with him. The pain of it all left you feeling raw, vulnerable, and insecure as if a part of you had been stripped bare of dignity and reason. You were left feeling smaller than you really were, with a heavy weight on your shoulders that dragged you down. As if everything was your fault. 

But you had never known about Alastor's feelings for you. You didn't even know when his affection for you had begun and why he had buried them so deep within his heart that his shadow had to break free to soothe its ache. Only when his shadow broke free did you realise the extent of his emotions and how deep they ran.

The days felt like they had grown longer and lost all their colour without the presence of Alastor's shadow. Hollow and lifeless. Whilst you could argue all you wanted with yourself that it was the shadow that you wanted and not the man, the reality was that the shadow was the man. 

They were not separate. They were one.

To love one was to love the other. 

What ... love?!

Pain can be subjective, just like any emotion, but that does not diminish its impact on one's life. The heart will make itself known to the mind whether the mind wants to know or not, but sooner or later, the heart will make the mind yield to the pain, the longing, and the wanting just to get a moment of peace. 

And that's where you were right now, at the door where your heart had broken down, letting the reality of your emotions spill at your feet. A door it begged you to walk through, but you were scared. You were a coward. For Alastor saw you through his darkness, his shadow, and you saw him through his. 

To knock or not to knock. That is the question.  

It had been 23 days since your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby. When he had branded you with a kiss that still burned. Marking you with a curse that tore your heart out and poisoned your mind. Longing for the time when it had been just you and Alastor's shadow, but now all your memories of the shadows had been replaced with the man himself. Giving you a genuine smile that only your eyes were allowed to see. To be given the privilege, the trust, to see him. To see the man and not the sinner. To see the soul and not the demon.

Everyone longs for love, no matter what form love comes in, longing for companionship. Trust. Strong arms to fall into with hands that could hold us up when our legs can't bear the burden anymore. And you knew that Alastor could be the arms you wished to fall into, but did he still want to fall into yours?  

To knock or not to knock. That is the question.

The door to Alastors room felt like the doors to an impenetrable fortress. A domain that used to reek of him but now lured you with promises you longed for but feared as well. 

With your crossword puzzle in hand, you counted down from five to zero before lifting your shaking fist and knocking on the door softly. A part of you hoped that he wasn't there so you could run back down to the lobby and forget that you had ever had this stupid idea. The idea of mending your relationship. 

However, you were not so lucky, for Alastor soon opened the door. His smile twitched as his eyes fixed on you, and if you weren't imagining things, you thought you heard a soft chirping sound behind him.

"Yes?" Those were the first words he had uttered to you in 23 days. The only words you had allowed him to say to you in 23 days. 

Swalloing the stone in your throat, you let out in a rushed ramble:

"Canyouhelpmewithmycrossword?"

"I'm sorry?"  

"My crossword," you said, trying not to have a shaky voice, "can you help me with a clue? I can't figure it out."

You held out your newspaper with the crossword to him, pointing at the specific clue you had in mind. In reality, you had already figured it out 30 minutes ago, but Alastor didn't need to know that. He looked from you down to the newspaper, then back up at you again. His eyebrow raised. 

"Very well," was all he said as he looked down at the newspaper and the clue again, but by bending down, you now had his head right beside yours. You wondered if his big ears meant he could hear better and if he could hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest. Could he hear how it called out to him? How it had howled at your mind to let him back into your life again.

"The answer is Erato, the muse," answered Alastor and straightened up again.

"Oh, right. That makes sense," and that was when you remembered that Erato wasn't just any muse, but a muse whose name meant desire, and never had you desired for the smallest of touch from another before. Looking down at his lips, so red and soft, knowing what they had felt like on your cheek but maybe never getting the chance to touch them again was torture. 

"Was there anything else?"

Like a record scratch, you were hurled back into reality, looking back up at Alastor, who was studying you intensely. This is where your mind won over your heart, and you became a coward again. 

"No! Thank you for the help!" you practically screamed as you stiffly stormed down the hallway, away from the sinner who closed the door to his domain, and you wondered if it was painful to die. 

Work was slowly killing you, and it was not a pleasurable experience. Buried in paperwork, you had been staring at a document for the past half hour without really taking in the information. No matter how many times you would re-read the document, the words made less sense as you kept reading. Blurring together in one big mess that drained you of all your energy, the clock had not even struck 09:00 yet. 

Overwhelmed, you buried your face in your hands, your body leaning on the desk for support. You wondered how you were going to make it through the day if it continued at this excruciatingly slow pace. 

After a slight knocking, the door swung open, and someone entered your office. 

"Not now, Charlie," you said softly so as not to offend without looking up, "I told you I'm fine. I don't need you to check on me." 

However, no answer came, and when you looked up, you realised that it wasn't Charlie who had come knocking at your door again but Alastor, who was holding your favourite cup in his hand and a bag in the other.  

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you," you said and began to stand up, but you slowly dropped down when Alastor walked over to your desk and sat down your cup. The smell of coffee filled your office and the mere thought of having that sweet beverage filled you with delight. Beside the cup, Alastor put down the brown bag he had held, and you instantly recognised the logo of the bakery from across town that you loved so much. 

As you looked at the bag, you felt a sudden jolt of surprise that made your body shake. You raised your gaze to Alastor, who was standing in front of you, and then back to the bag. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spreading through you as you thought about the blueberry muffin that was waiting inside. It was such a simple thing, but it made you feel wanted. What a wonder that such a small thing could make you feel so special and warm on the inside. 

That warmth was something you hadn't felt in a long time. Ever since Alastor's shadow stopped visiting your office, you had felt incredibly lonely. You missed the little conversations you used to have with him and the way he always seemed to know just what to do to make you feel better. You even found it hard to go to the bakery and get your muffin in the morning because it made you feel too alone for your liking.

But now, as you had the bag in front of you, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things were finally starting to look up again. Maybe Alastor was back in your life for good, and you could once again look forward to those little moments of happiness that made your day a little brighter. 

"I... thank you, Alastor. I greatly appreciate it." Your heart skipped a beat when Alastor looked down at you and gave you a small, genuine smile. 

"You're welcome, my dear," he said softly as he turned to leave your office. His demeanour was calm and collected, yet you could sense a certain warmth and friendliness in his voice.

"Have you seen the roses yet?" the words rushed out of you before you could hold yourself back, too desperate for his company now that you had gotten it back. 

"Pardon?" asked Alastor without turning around to look at you fully. His hands were resting on his microphone cane. 

"The roses, in the garden. They've bloomed, almost all of them. They're... they're breathtaking. You should see them." Your knee started to nervously bounce under your desk as sweat began to gather in your palms. The man had managed to render you a nervous wreck so fast, his presence alone stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. 

"No, I haven't seen them yet. I'll make sure to walk around the garden on my break today. I can imagine that they are lovely." 

Thinking this was the end of the conversation, you turned back to your dreadfully dull documents.

"Would you care to join me?" asked Alastor, his soft yet hesitant voice making your heart skip a beat. It was as if the air around you had suddenly become charged with an unspoken tension, making you wonder if he was nervous as well.  

"In the garden?"

"Yes." 

"I... I would love to." 

"Wonderful. I'll come to get you around twelve if that works for you."

"Great! I look forward to it."

As he walked out, you couldn't help but sit back in your chair and take a deep breath. You felt a sense of relief and contentment, knowing that Alastor still seemed to want to try a new connection—something new and unexplored. You picked up your coffee and took a sip, letting the warmth of the liquid spread through your body. Alastor had managed to wake the butterflies within you again with a single act of kindness.  

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Your and Alastor's relationship had improved immensely over the week. However, there was just this little problem that kept bugging you. Alastor had not touched you in any way, not even laid his hand on your shoulder or offered his arm when the both of you had walked through the rose garden. While this wasn't uncommon, you rarely saw him really touch anyone in the hotel except for the odd pat on the head, but his shadow had been so physically affectionate that you yearned for the intimacy of it all. 

While not overly affectionate, the shadow had not hesitated to hold your hand or rest on your shoulders. It wasn't that you wanted to carry Alastor on your back, but the simple act of holding hands seemed like a distant dream. 

You sank deeper into the sofa in the hotel lobby as you glanced at the deer demon sitting by the fireplace above your newspaper—your crossword puzzle long forgotten. Alastor was sitting cross-legged with a book in one hand and a glass of rye whisky in the other, silently humming to the song he played from the antique radio he had summoned, and for some reason, you thought that he had never looked more attractive.

Satan's sweaty balls, you used to party every weekend and only come home after you had tried every type of alcohol the club had to offer, and now you were in love with a sinner whose favourite pastime was listening to jazz while drinking whisky. Your younger self would have hated what you had become, but in the present, you felt a deep sense of contentment, wanting nothing more than to have a quiet evening with Alastor, where he would read out loud to you from his book in front of the fire with your head in his lap, listening to jazz.

Angel Dust shouted a loud good night and started to walk up the stairs to his room after another hour had passed. Charlie and Vaggie, who had been sitting by the dining table and doing a jigsaw puzzle, were the next ones who left the lobby. Charlie's good night was barely audible because of how much she was yawning. The last one to leave the lobby was Husk, who you knew stayed longer than he usually did just so he could keep an eye on you. You quickly shot him a meaningful glaze, trying to tell him that everything was fine, which he seemed to understand. 

"Night," grunted Husk as he started to walk up the stairs. 

"Good night, Husk!" you shouted back, grateful that you and Alastor had some more time alone. That is if you actually dared to do anything. 

The chance to change the mood was almost too good, too romantic for you to think clearly. There were so many possibilities as to what you could do. You could ask him about his day, but that felt too predictable. You could ask him about his book, but what if the book is boring and you can't make the conversation sexy? Would he even like that? He was flirty in a very subtle and charming way, but would he like it if you took a more direct approach? 

Without knowing it, you had spent all your time thinking of all the things you could do with Alastor now that you were alone with him that you completely lost track of time. It wasn't until he closed his book and stood up that you were pulled away from your thoughts back into the present. 

"Well, it is getting quite late. Sweet dreams, my dear." 

Panicking again like he so often made you do, you blurted out the first thing you could think of to make him stay. 

"Do you know the dance foxtrot?" You fucking idiot, of all the things you could have asked, why did you ask that?!

Alastor turned to you while raising a brow, and even if he looked at you with a curious gaze, you could not help but feel like the biggest fool in all of Hell. You used to be smooth when flirting and look at yourself now.

"I do. Why do you ask, my dear?" 

There was no backing down anymore, so you took a deep breath, cheeks and ears burning, and confessed;

"I've always wanted to try it! I've seen others dancing it, I even know the moves, but I've never had anyone to dance with." 

In the blink of an eye, the music on the radio changed from a soft and slow jazz song to one with a more precise and faster beat. Alastor bent down and left his book on his chair before he walked over to you. 

"May I have this dance?" he asked with a mischievous smile. 

Not caring anymore about dialling down your excitement, you gave him the biggest smile as you took his hand. Letting him pull you off the sofa. His hand was warm and soft, sending tingles up your arm as he gently stroked his thumb over your knuckles. 

As Alastor pulled you towards him, he quickly established that he would lead the dance. With your hand on his shoulder and his between your shoulder blades, he pushed you into the first step of the foxtrot. The rhythm of the music began to take over, and he started to spin you around the empty hotel lobby. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling the wind rushing against your skin as you twirled around and around. 

As he spun you, his red eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You felt like the only person in the world as you looked deep into each other's eyes, lost in the moment. It was a look you didn't see often, but sometimes, when it was only you and him, you could catch a glimpse of a softer look from Alastor. A look that made the butterflies in your stomach make loops in excitement. It was a look that made you feel cherished and admired, and it was a feeling unlike any other. 

The dance seemed to last forever, and you didn't want it to end. You felt free and alive, and you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget. 

When the song came to an end, a new song began directly after it. This one is slower than its predecessor, one that you couldn't necessarily dance the foxtrot to, for it was a song that called for a type of slow dancing. 

Without hesitation, Alastor pulled you closer towards him as his hand moved from between your shoulder blades down your back. Leaving a trail of fire under your skin as his hand pulled you closer to him after it stopped in the middle of your back. 

None of you said anything but continued slowly dancing to the music on the radio. His red eyes, heavy-lidded, looked deep into yours as he slowly dipped down and kissed your lips.

Happy 'burn a big ass bonfire so the witches who are flying to the devil's party fly into the bonfire instead' day, everyone! (If you can guess which country I'm from, from that, I'll be really impressed)

Taglist for the part 2: @littledolly2345 @slytherin4ever @wendds @beelz3bub @adamwarlockislife-blog @ilikemyteawithmilk @cherry-cola-100 @xia21 @rae-pottah @xsoftdead18 @arrozyfrijoles23 @maulsgf

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor x you #x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #alastor x reader angst #hazbin hotel alastor x reador angst #hazbin hotel angst

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

[ i wrote this in an hour after a very long day at work so if you see any mistakes...no you dont. Also i WILL see them later. Like immediately after i post this...so it goes. Enjoy guys! 🧡 ]

The sun from his window wakes him, shining in his eyes. The night before coming back to him slowly, his stomach swooping at the memory. He reaches behind himself, blindly, his stomach dropping. The sheets are cold.

Steve rolls onto his back, letting his head fall to the side slowly, not wanting to see what he's already felt. Not wanting to see the emtpy bed Eddie had promised wouldn't be there in the morning.

He turns.

No Eddie.

He refuses to acknowledge the whine that crawls up his throat, takes a deep breath, and rolls onto his side, his fingers idly moving over the sheets Eddie had left rumpled in his wake.

It had taken them months to get here. To this place. From Eddie and Steve. To EddieAndSteve.

Steve hadn't expected Eddie. Was shocked how much he enjoyed the other boys company. He was loud, and intense, and smart, and an asshole, and kind. This weird puzzle Steve wanted to toss onto the table so he could see the pieces better.

And then he'd met the other Eddie. The Eddie he was when he was alone with someone. He was no less intense. But he got quiet. He got calm. And at first, it freaked Steve out a little bit. He hadn't been expecting it, this quiet side of Eddie.

He'd actually asked Jeff about it one day, asked if maybe he'd been doing something wrong. That Eddie was too nice to call him on it so he'd just kept his mouth shut and gotten quiet. Jeff had laughed, not meanly, and had said,

"You ever known him to keep his mouth shut? About anything?" Jeff gave him a look, his brows moving up his forehead. Steve shook his head.

"It's freaky right? When he gets quiet, and calm?" Jeff had asked, the look on his face softening when Steve nodded slowly.

"But nice right? Not in a mean way. Just... there's somethin about him when he's quiet." Jeff shrugged, still looking at Steve.

"It's like he's got so much focus. And then it goes quiet and all that focus is just... on you." Steve said, quiet, and slow. Jeff tilted his head to the side, eyes moving over Steve's thoughtful face. A lot of people usually made comments when he made that face, told him not hurt himself, thinking too hard, but not Jeff. Jeff smiled at him, clapped him on the shoulder and said.

"Yeah. And Eddie focus can a be overwhelming when you aren't used to it. But you do, get used to it." He gave Steve's shoulder a squeeze, smiled again when Steve mumbled something about that not being an issue. And that had been the end of it. And the beginning.

Steve got used to Eddie's quiet focus, the way his eyes were always on him when they were alone. He got used to the way Eddie liked doing things for him. Little favors. Little errands. Little good deeds.

He got used to the way Eddie would read to him when he got headaches. His voice calm, and even, and most of the time putting Steve to sleep.

And then he got used to the way Eddie touched him. Like he was something precious. And that was when Steve couldn't help himself. He kissed Eddie. One night in his stupid plaid bedroom. The plaid Eddie loved so much. Cuz it was all Steve.

He'd kissed him and Eddie had smiled into it. And then kissed him back. And Steve got used to that too. He'd gotten used to Eddie being there. With him. For him. Around him and inside him. He was everywhere. And everything. And Steve was so sure he loved him. That Eddie loved him back.

But he was alone.

Eddie promised he would be here with Steve in the morning. Steve was so tired of being with someone and then waking up alone. And Eddie promised, soft and sweet in that way he had, he would be here.

He promised.

Steve felt his eyes burn and curled around the pillow next to him. It still smelled like Eddie, his shampoo and his cigarettes and his sweat. Steve sobbed into the pillow, holding it close as his tears stained the fabric, his chest aching.

And then the smoke detector is blaring. Startling him, he jumps out of bed, disoriented from crying and being pulled out his little bubble. He almost trips over something on his way to the door, he looks down, sees Eddie's jeans. Huh.

He tugs his shirt down over his stomach where it had ridden up in sleep and darts down the stairs, the loud, incessant beeping is coming from the kitchen. As soon as his feet hit the stairs he smells burning. A few more steps and he hears an all too familiar voice. His heart stops pounding from the adrenaline, and starts pounding for a new reason, as he stops right outside the kitchen doorway to listen.

"Please stop please stop please stop!" Eddie's voice begs in a whisper.

"Oh my god. Oh god. What the fuck? Chair. I need a chair." Steve hears him snap his fingers, hears him grunt.

"Okay! Oh my god. Shut uuuupp!" Eddie hisses. Steve's hears him fumbling with something.

"Waking up the whole fucking neighborhood at this rate. I mean c'mon this can't- are you fucking- Gotcha!" Steve hears the sound of the fire detector click free.

"You're gonna get it now you little- oh shit. Okay. I'm okay." Eddie sounds like he's soothing himself. Steve hears another rattling noise, a little "ah HA!", and the beeping finally stops.

"Jesus." Eddie sounds out of breath.

"That was fucking never wracking. A whole fucking todo. My god." He sighs loudly, Steve covering his mouth, trying not to snort and give himself away.

"Now where was I?" Eddie asks himself, Steve hears him groan softly and can almost see the way his body deflates.

"Oh right. You." Steve smiles at the venom in his voice, has to peak around the corner to see if his suspicions are correct. Sure enough, Eddie is looking at the pan on the stove, what was once probably eggs, is now a pan full of smoldering nothing.

Eddie sighs again, his shoulders sagging. He curls his fingers around the handle, lifts the pan closer to his face, squinting at the ashes inside.

"Now, what am I... gonna do with you?" He asks, frowning. Steve bites his lip.

"I was just about to ask you the same question." Steve says, stepping around the door frame. Eddie yelps, nearly drops the pan, rights it quickly but gets a handful of ashy eggs in the process, makes a face and a strangled noise as he sets it back on the stove.

"Steve! You're awake!" He says, smiling, as he takes a few steps backwards, shoves his hands into the sink and scrubs them off, gagging once as he pushes soap between his fingers. Steve drags his teeth over his bottom lip, lets it go. Smiles as he watches Eddie clean his hands.

"Yes Eddie. I'm awake." He leans agaisnt the door frame.

"I um... did I wake you up? I didn't mean too. I had like a whole...plan. Well... maybe not a whole plan. Half a plan? Let's call it part of a plan. " his hands flail and then drag down his shirt as he dries them.

"What are we talkin like, sixty/forty?" Steve teases, Eddie fowns, scrunches his face.

"I wouldn't give it that much. It was eighty/twenty at best."  His hand wiggles and wobbles in front of him. The laugh that bursts out of Steve makes him smile.

"I just wanted to bring you breakfast in bed. I only remembered about half way in that I, actually, cannot cook." His eyes move to the ashy eggs again.

"Clearly." He sighs, his shoulders drooping again. Steve's stomach swoops, again, and this time the feeling stays. He laughs again. And moves toward Eddie. Eddie looks at him, holds his hands up between them quickly, like he's gonna fight Steve off with Karate he doesn't know.

"I will clean your kitchen! I just wanted to do something nice for- oomf." He huffs out air into Steve's shoulder as Steve slams into him and pulls him close.

"Oh. Hi." His voice has gone from defensive to pleasantly surprised, his hands resting against Steve's back are warm, and he can feel Eddie smiling into his shoulder.

"You stayed." Steve breathes, closes his eyes and breaths Eddie in, squeezing him tighter. Eddie makes a teasing gasping for air noise and then squeezes back.

"Well yeah. I promised didn't I?" Eddie asks, his fingers digging into Steve's sides, making him squirm. Steve pulls back and looks at him.

"Yes. You did. Thank you for keeping your promise." Steve watches Eddie smile, watches his eyes wander slowly over his face, taking him. And then he kisses him. Again. For maybe the hundredth time. For the thousandth. Steve doesn't know. Just knows that he never wants to stop. But he does, so he can look at Eddie, all wide eyed and frizzy haired, looking a little dazed, the way he always does when Steve kisses him.

"Will you make me another promise?" Steve whispers, bumping his nose softly into Eddie's. He's already nodding.

"Yeah. Anything. What do want?" Eddie asks, his hands squeezing Steve's hips gently.

"Promise me. You'll never, ever, try to cook anything for me ever again." Steve bites his lip when Eddie sqwuaks and shoves him away.

"I was trying! To be sweet to you!!" He shouts, his hands on his chest as he backs away, over dramatically offended.

"I know. And the thought was very nice." Steve nods, grabs the pan and holds it upside down, the ashes do not move, or fall out.

"But I think you killed my pan. And I really can't take anymore kitchen casualties, like, financially. At the moment. So..." he sets the pan back down, smiling when Eddie glares at him. He shakes his head, crosses his arms.

"You try to do something nice for your boyfriend, and what do you get? Nothin but jokes. And financial insecurity." He huffs, his nose in the air. After maybe half a second he glances at Steve.

"But yeah I can promise you that." He winks and then all but bounces back into Steve's arms, nuzzling into his neck and humming.

"Please tell me you can cook. We're gonna die if you can't. We're gonna starve to death. And I'm already precariously skinny, we can't let it get any worse. I'll be nothing but skin and bone come winter!" Eddie laments, going nearly limp in Steve's arms, trusting him to catch him, to hold him up, and he does, as he laughs.

"Worry not fair maiden. I can indeed cook. Shall I scramble you an egg? Make you some toast perhaps?" Steve asks, his hands soothing up and down Eddie's back. Eddie straightens immediately at his words and pulls back, his head cocked to the side.

"Okay toast does sound amazing but I need you know that if you keep playing along with my little dramatics like that, that pan isn't gonna be only thing I ruin in this kitchen." Eddie's cheeks are flushed, his teeth worrying into bottom lip.

"Did you mean for that sound so fucking smooth?" Steve asks, his cheeks going hot as Eddie's eyes drop to his mouth.

"Not at all! Oh my god!  I didn't even mean it like that, but it was so good!" His little excited face as he hops a few times is the best fucking thing Steve's ever seen.

"Well how bout we go ruin something in my bedroom instead. And I can make you toast, or whatever you want, after?" Steve asks, sliding his hands down Eddie's arms and tangling their fingers. Eddie nods excitedly. Steve turns to leave the kitchen and Eddie jumps on his back.

"Oof." Steve sighs.

"Sorry. Wanted a ride up the stairs. You have too many stairs in your house." Eddie whines, smiling into Steve's shoulder when he hikes his legs up and holds him.

"Hey what else can you make besides toast? Can you make soups?" Eddie asks, as Steve takes the steps slowly.

"Yep."

"Hell yes! Can you make grilled cheese?" Eddie asks.

"Yep."

"Amazing. Can you maaake.... meatloaf?" Eddie asks.

"I haven't in awhile, but I have a great recipe for it. Soooo... yes." Steve answers.

"Nice! Can you maaaakkeee.... ooohh can you make bread?" He pats at Steve's chest excitedly. Steve laughs, bounces him once as he heads down the hall to his room.

"Mhm. I can. A few different kinds." Steve hums.

"Holy shit. You're a cooking wizard! We shan't starve after all!" Eddie shouts, his voice echoing off the walls before Steve closes the door, the sound of their laughter muffled through the door as they fall into bed. Steve rolls on top of him, smiles down at him, and thanks him over and over again, through smiles and whispers and gasps and moans. Thanks him for keeping his promise. Thanks him for staying. For staying with Steve.

And Eddie tells him, in that easy way he has, quiet and intense, that there's no place else he'd rather be.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #mine #my writing #my fic

[sunkissed-zegras]

manager literally having to handle every single thing and js bein emotionally exhausted, one day she’s just completely overstimulated from everything and walks out to let herself cry

i love angst sorry🤘

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ─ UCONN WBB MANAGER

౨ৎ ─ summary | after a shitty week, manager breaks down over a stupid test score and her teammate helps her through it.

─ word count | 919

─ warnings | NIKA AND MANAGER BONDING TIME YIPEE! angsty af, hurt to comfort, manager putting too much pressure on herself, midterms (BLEHHH), pretty sure nothin else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

YOUR ENTIRE WEEK had been shit, to put it simply.

Scratch that, your entire month had been pretty shitty. Your midterms had gone terrible, your headaches have been becoming way more painful and more frequent and on top of all of that, you bled through your pants. Twice.

With play-off season arriving in about couple weeks, practices had been running later and later. You spent the entire practice usually on the phone, trying to figure out routes to away games, trying to coordinate transportation for the team, and dealing with the last-minute changes and complications that seemed to plague every plan you made.

As the playoff season even nearer, the pressure mounted to new heights. Every decision felt like it carried the weight of the world, and the fear of letting down your team gnawed at your insides.

Geno had told you that you could leave early if you absolutely needed to, but you hated feeling useless. You wanted to be able to do your job without letting your own personal issues get in the way but right now, it felt like you were way in over your head. Despite Geno's offer to leave early, the guilt gnawed at you, whispering that you were failing in your duties as a manager.

As today's practice wore on, your headache intensified, pulsing behind your eyes with an intensity that threatened to consume you. You clenched your jaw against the pain, willing yourself to push through, but with each passing moment, it felt like the weight on your shoulders grew heavier.

Your phone buzzed against your thigh and you picked it up, reading the notification. Your heart had dropped to your stomach as you read the email ─ you had failed your Geo midterm.

You threw your phone against the hardwood floors, feeling your eyesight become blurry. That was cherry on top, that was the final straw. Tears stung at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to regain control of your emotions. You got up from the bench, picking up your phone as you sniffled.

"Whoa, Y/N? Are you good?" You turned to meet Nika's eyes as yours widened in shock. You immediately wiped your tears as you averted your gaze.

Nika was thankfully the only person on the court right now, everyone else was in the locker-room getting ready for practice. Nika finished up early, like she usually did.

You sniffled again. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You're not, tell me what's bothering you. Who was it? Was it Paige or Geno, because I swear-"

"No, no." You sighed loudly as Nika's expression softened. "Just allergies. I need to go get something from my dorm, I won't be long."

Nika scoffed as she watched you walk away, her eyes narrowing with concern despite your attempt to brush off the situation.

"Allergies, my ass," she muttered under her breath, though she knew better than to push you further when you were clearly not ready to talk.

You went to your dorm and cried your eyes out, that was the only thing you felt like you could do. You almost debated whether or not you should go back to practice until you remembered that you left all your stuff there.

As you got up to the door, you heard a knock on your door. Your furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you opened the door, revealing Nika. She held your bag in one hand and hers in the other, a warm smile on her lips.

You opened the door wider so that she could come in. Without a word, she set down both her bag and yours as you closed the door behind her.

"Practice ended early so you didn't miss anything," Nika spoke as she gave you a smile. She sat down on your bed as she gestured for you to come and sit.

"Thanks for bringing my bag," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find the right words to express the depth of your gratitude.

Nika waved off your thanks with a casual shrug, her gaze reassuring. "No problem. I figured you could use a break from everything."

Then, with a small sigh, Nika reached out and took your hand in hers, her touch a comforting. "One test doesn't define your entire career, Y/N. I promise you, it will not matter after you graduate. It probably won't even matter in a month, or maybe even a week."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Nika had completely read you like a damn book. "How did you know?"

Nika just scoffed, "You think we don't listen when you ramble on about your tests and shit? We do, and trust me we know you better than you think."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips at her blunt honesty, the tension that had coiled tight in your chest slowly starting to unravel. It was true ─ Nika and the rest of the team had always been there to listen, even when you thought no one was paying attention.

"Look, Y/N." Nika kept her gaze on you, her expression serious. "We love you and we need you, but don't ever put us over your mental health. We need you all in one piece if you're gonna take care of us, right?"

"So, for us. Take the weekend off and come back on Monday, alright?" Before you could protest, Nika sent you a stern look and you sighed loudly. Nika's expression dissipated into a warmer one as she smiled, "That's our girl."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#uconn wbb manager ★ #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #nika muhl x reader #nika muhl #ncaaw #ncaa wbb #ncaa women’s basketball #nika muhl imagine #nika mühl

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 64

part 1 | part 63 | tumblr masterlist | ao3

cw: angst, big gooey feelings

—

When Steve gets back to the boathouse, Eddie’s shaking like a leaf; has to touch Steve like a blind man, pat his hands all over his face and down his arms and across his chest. “Know I’ve— got no right to a-ask this of you,” he says through chattering teeth, “but… would you—?”

…Goddammit.

“Get over here,” Steve says. He draws Eddie into him; squeezes as hard as he can, one arm around Eddie’s waist, the other cupping the back of his neck — skin to skin beneath a mess of matted hair.

He says nothing.

There are things he could say; probably should say right now — things like ‘you tried to kill me’ or ‘I almost let you,’ or ‘you just left without saying anything, Eddie, how could you do that?’ — but it feels like treating a wasp sting when someone else needs a tourniquet.

Eventually, the shivering stops.

Eddie pulls back with a bashful expression. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

They move to sit down on the floor — side by side, shoulders touching, toes over the edge of the hole in the floorboards. The water moves like ink beneath them, and Eddie looks so beautiful it makes Steve want to die. His hands twitch at his sides, the small, lovesick part of him begging to know why they stopped touching; wants so desperately to press his fingers to the dark circles under Eddie’s eyes. To sink them into his hair and never let go again.

Even though Eddie doesn’t want that.

Even though he left.

Pain zips behind Steve’s eyelids like lightning, leaves the taste of copper on the back of his scorched tongue. He reaches up and pulls his hair — sharp at the root; needs the distraction. Can’t let himself think about his stupid heart right now.

Whatever, or whoever, this Vecna thing is, Steve knows it feeds on grief. Feasts on it; scents sadness in the water like a shark chasing blood. He can’t just swim into the ocean and cut himself for sport. Not unless he wants to end up like Chrissy.

Eddie opens his mouth and offers Steve another knife. “You can say it, you know.”

His tone is gentle; probing — eyes earnest, chin tucked.

“Say what?”

“Ohh, y’know.” Eddie puts his chin in his hand; clucks his tongue. “Whatever’s got you all, uh…” He furrows his brow and pokes his tongue into his cheek, licking back and forth over the smooth skin inside. “I can take it.”

Steve schools his expression. “What if I don’t want to say anything to you?” It’s quiet. Level. Less heat than he intended.

Eddie’s hand comes up to his heart. Chin dipping lower, psychic damage sincerity in his ridiculous Bambi eyes, he locks Steve into his gaze.

Holds him there.

Holds him; nearly makes him squirm.

“Then I’d say I deserve that, too.”

The faintest flicker of a smile; a spark of flint in a pitch black room.

Steve can’t help but catch the flame.

His lips land on Eddie’s with all the delicacy he can manage, hummingbird wings beating away inside his chest. The kiss is soft. Almost timid. Fucking perfect when Eddie starts kissing him back; just feels right; memory slotting into place after weeks of amnesia. Fervent noises, pressing harder, every movement like an oath, Steve pours himself into Eddie — gets his hands back under his hair, tangles his fingers behind his neck and nestles his thumbs in the hollows behind Eddie’s ears. Lets himself come home.

Eddie pulls back enough to whisper, “Jesus Christ, I missed you.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

They both feel it — the bubble bursting. The prolonged whine of a balloon deflating to the floor.

Steve slips from the embrace, hugging his arms around his legs, listening to their harsh breaths in the stale hush that follows.

Eddie mirrors his pose. Taps his fist against the top of his other hand, rings clacking. “Shit, Steve,” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I’m— I’m so fucking sorry. For all of it. For everything.”

“It’s fine,” Steve lies.

It isn’t.

Nothing ever is, these days.

—

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic

[royaltozaki]

what if nerd momo x bimbo reader author I need u

failing maths, but getting the girl

synopsis: momo and y/n have hated each other ever since an incident in first year. now, y/n's failing a class and momo offers to help.

warnings: mentions of blood and cuts, overbearing parents, drugs, implied sex

w/c: 4.0k

a/n: this is kinda funny for me bcs im blonde and my dad keeps making jokes in chinese about how im ltr a blonde bimbo now. anyway i combined these 2 reqs bcs im lazy forgive me anon/s

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n!"

you turn in the corridor, almost crashing into the burly man behind you who yells a "watch where you're going blondie!" before rushing off to a class he was probably late to.

you spot your friends who had called you, grinning and waving you over, "can't go one day on campus without running someone down can you?" a friend teases.

you pout, "i didn't walk into anyone yesterday!"

"no but you got stuck in the revolving door outside the chem building."

you whine at their teasing, you were a naturally clumsy person! sometimes you'd mix up salt and sugar, and sometimes you'd lose your car keys only to find them still in the ignition keyhole of your car from the last time you used it.

"so you coming to that party tonight? i heard some famous dj from the states is playing."

"awwh really?! i can't tonight i'm failing that dumb math class i have to take and i have a quiz tomorrow so i gotta study."

"you're failing everything y/n, what difference would one night make for you anyway?" a scoff from a student passing by, who you recognise as the infamous hirai momo from the back of her head and the evil way she sends a side-eye at you and your friend group in disgust.

"i wouldn't be if it weren't for your sad ass hirai!"

"stop looking at my ass and get your eyes on some books for once."

momo was meant to be your roommate in first year. although you had accidentally locked her out in the rain for 5 hours while you were hooking up with someone you can't remember the name of anymore. that was during orientation week, safe to say she was pissed and completely drenched when you finally let her in. she filed for a roommate change not long after, citing "poor etiquette and stupidity that could infect my genius", and being the university's most promising academic scholar, she pretty much got whatever she wanted. meaning she also got you assigned to the harshest tutors and markers as her own form of personal revenge, essentially making you fail most of your first year courses. which is why you were even taking this math class again.

the problem arose however, when you find out you would actually lose your scholarship if you failed another class. so failing was definitely not an option.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

“you failed.”

“what!? but i studied all night! i even brought the right calculator model this time!”

“miss l/n, bringing the correct calculator doesn’t help you if you don’t know how to use it. and neither does studying all night if you haven’t been coming to class for most of the semester.”

you’re gaping at the professor in disbelief.

“i’m afraid you’ll lose your scholarship if you fail the upcoming final exam. take this as your final warning. good day miss l/n.”

the door is shut in your face while you're still left trying to process exactly what just happened, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

a familiar scoff behind you brings you back though, "what is y/n l/n doing here outside the staff meeting room? what? about to blow one of your professors for marks or something?"

you spin, stepping into her space, faces inches away from each other, "you jealous or something hirai? i'll blow you too if you beg."

you revel in the way her cheeks immediately flush, a slightly shaky finger pushing up the glasses on her nose as she looks away, "jokes on you l/n. i don't have a dick dimwit."

"you don't need one for me to make you feel good."

she's sputtering, moving around you quickly to escape, knocking on the staff door. you smirk, reveling in the slight win over her but immediately forgetting the feeling of triumph when you realise you're still fucked for your final in 2 weeks.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

"y/n, you know i love you, but i cannot explain this again in any other way."

you groan, hands coming up to pull at your hair.

"but you got like a high affliction or something for this class last year! if you can't teach me i'm actually royally screwed, pleaseee?"

"it's high distinction sweetie. and just because someone's good at something doesn't mean they're a good teacher. sorry to break it to you but i couldn't teach my little cousins how to multiply fractions without wanting to commit homicide."

you wrinkle your nose, "gross dude they're literally related to you."

"no babes homicide means i wanted to kill them."

"oh... i guess that's better?"

"focus! c'mon you remember how to do the cross product right?"

"i don't get ittttttt!!!!!!! isn't that just multiplication? a times b equals ab!"

"this isn't algebra it's vectors. cross product isn't multiplication y/n."

you groan again, facepalming the desk in front of you.

your friend sighs, "sorry y/n i have to get going now. promised my boyfriend i'd go watch his game tonight."

"what?! you can't leave me here!"

your friend's already packing up their stuff though, "sorry! good luck with the studying though!"

you wail in goodbye, sitting up again and slapping your face a few times, trying to hype yourself up.

two minutes later, and you're still absolutely nowhere.

you decide to go out for a quick stroll rather than start a campfire in the middle of the library with all your papers. the evening breeze feels refreshing against your skin as you take in the sky. breathing in a deep sigh and closing your eyes briefly.

definitely the wrong idea when you crash headfirst into something that yelps a "what the fuck!" followed by the sound of smashing glass and a whine of pain.

your eyes are quick to open and you stare down at a bleeding hirai momo next to what looks to be a ruined 3D print of a final project or something.

"oh shit momo! are you okay?" you crouch down quickly, trying to collect the glass pieces that have broken, yelping when a piece digs into your skin.

"has all that bleach finally reached your brain y/n? who goes for broken glass with their bare hands?" she's frowning, rubbing her head a little and inspecting the cut across her arm.

"i-i'm sorry i-"

she sighs, "save it. i've had a long enough day as it is. being around you any longer is just gonna increase my chances of dying to some freak plane crash or something." she's standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants muttering to herself, "i'll have to call security to come clean this up."

you realise then that her eyes look a little puffier than usual, slightly tinged with red, the telltale signs of crying.

you suddenly feel terrible. whatever you had just broken seemed like an extremely intricate piece of work, and she was still bleeding down her arm but she didn't seem to pay it much mind, taking a phone out of her pocket and dialing security.

you step to the side and wait for her to finish talking on the phone. she doesn't realise you haven't left yet, swearing under her breath as she assess the damage once again.

when she turns and sees you again, she scowls, "what are you still doing here bimbo? don't you have a dick to ride or some jewelry to shine?"

you ignore her, blushing instead, "you're still bleeding."'

she looks surprised at that response, glancing at her arm again briefly and shrugging, "it's whatever. i'll clean it up later."

you wrap a hand around her wrist then, still not meeting her eyes, "let me? it'll be hard to bandage it properly with your left hand. and i kinda owe you for all of-" you gesture vaguely with your other hand at the ground, "this."

she's tugging her hand back quickly though, "don't bother. you'd probably make it worse. just go home y/n."

you sigh exasperatedly, "won't you just let me help! i feel bad okay? i can't just leave you here bleeding onto the concrete waiting for security to come clean this up."

she's surprised at your outburst, eyes locking onto yours and then nodding slightly. you don't let her rethink her decision as you drag her back inside the library, heading into the storeroom where you knew they had emergency first aid supplies.

you sit her down on the chair and rummage through the small kit for some alcohol wipes to clean the wound first.

she's eyeing you with a sort of caution, but is quick to clench her eyes shut and gasp at the first sting of disinfectant.

it's quiet for a bit while you work on cleaning her wound.

"where'd you learn first aid?" she speaks up first, eyes meting yours again.

"my little sister used to play around a lot with the rougher kids in the neighborhood. so she was always coming home with scratches and cuts and my mom was at work most of the time so i had to learn to take care of her myself."

momo hums, "guess that didn't really translate to taking care of yourself then huh? i mean with the way you're always tripping over air and stuff, you're more of a danger to yourself than a serial killer would be." there's no malice to her words this time, just lightly teasing you and you smile.

"i am sorry by the way. for breaking that. it looked like it'll be pretty hard to replicate."

"nah. i can just print another one tomorrow don't worry."

you both fall into silence again as you finish cleaning her wound, going to collect a few of the bandages to start wrapping around her arm.

you clear your throat a little awkwardly, "so... long day?"

she chuckles humorlessly in response, "something like that."

"wanna talk about it?"

she bristles then, and you're quick to correct yourself, "i mean you don't have to. just... making conversation."

it's quiet for a little longer and you're finishing wrapping her up, grabbing a small adhesive to stick it all together when she sighs. "sorry. just had a lot of pressure from back home lately. my parents keep wanting me to hurry up and graduate so i can go back to japan and take over the family companies. they called earlier saying how they're cutting off my funding for next year if i continue to drag out my studies."

"what? but you're only 23. don't you have like, things left you wanna do before you're all old and unable to move anymore?"

she giggles a little, its the first time you've heard that from her, "yeah tons actually. i've always wanted to see the northern lights and stay in one of those cute little igloos in finland, maybe go to antarctica and do some research there."

"okay! do that! what's stopping you?"

she smiles at you sadly, "my parents won't allow it. they'd disown me for not taking over their companies. and frankly, i'd be broke without them. i don't have the kind of money to keep living abroad like this if they were to stop supporting me."

you tilt your head a little in confusion, "can't you find a job?"

she's laughing then, a full, nose-scrunching laugh, "not with the classes i'm taking. i'd have to either take part-time study, which my parents would literally kill me for because it's 'embarassing' and would bring shame on our family name, or... never sleep again and take a night job or something."

you frown, sitting back on your heels.

"thanks for this by the way. you're still hurt though, do you want me to do you?"

"-and don't make a weird joke about that." she interrupts you before you can even open your mouth.

you pout, nodding a little as she laughs, and grabs the first aid box from you, gently placing your hand in her lap and cleaning your fingers.

you're caught by the way her eyebrows furrow a little in concentration, her teeth biting into her bottom lip slightly, and you can't help but think she looks cute.

you're brought quickly out of these alarming thoughts though, when she asks "how come you're in the library so late on a friday night anyway? never thought the day would come."

you groan, remembering the stack of math papers you have sitting on your desk, "i have to study for a math final coming next week. if i fail i lose my scholarship and i can't let my mom pay for any of this. she's already worked hard enough getting both my sister and me through school."

momo looks surprised at your admission, "oh. i'm sorry. i didn't know you were on scholarship."

you hum, "yeah most people don't assume it from looking at me." you tease a little, flipping your blonde hair over your shoulder and giving a little jingle of your bracelets.

"i'm not materialistic or anything but i enjoy having things that make me look nice y'know?"

she rolls her eyes, placing bandaids carefully onto your fingers.

"you don't need any of those things anyway."

you're caught again, unsure whether that was a compliment or some new way of torturing you.

she clears her throat, "all done."

you look at your hand, cutely littered with some winnie the pooh bandaids she must have found in the first aid kit.

you beam up at her, "thanks!"

she blushes a little and looks away from you, shyly rubbing the back of her neck, "hey look... i can help you study for that test next week if you want. don't want you losing your scholarship over something simple like that. plus i kinda helped go through all the first year math exams for some extra credit with the head of department."

you're shocked at first, and then jumping and squealing, bringing her up with you, "what?! you will?! oh my god thank you!!!!! holy shit oh my god i'm not gonna fail oh shit i'm-"

she's shooshing you in an instant though, a hand clamped over your mouth, eyes darting behind you, "y/n! we're still in a library!"

you grin when she lets you go, whispering loudly, "thank you!"

she's rolling her eyes and letting herself be dragged over to your table, praying that she didn't make the wrong decision deciding to help you.

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo's standing outside your lecture theatre, waiting for your class to end. you texted her saying you were getting your final results back today so she decided to pop by and make sure everything was okay.

once students start exiting the class she slips in, walking towards the professor who's packing up her stuff..

"momo! good to see you here. although i'm a little surprised. i wasn't expecting you."

"hey professor kwon. i'm just here to-"

momo's attacked from the back, you're squealing as you latch onto her excitedly, waving a test paper in front of her face, "i passed! momo look i passed! with a 62!!!!! that's higher than i've ever gotten!!!!!"

"miss l/n. i didn't know you knew momo." professor kwon is looking you up and down with a little distaste but you ignore it, squeezing momo even tighter in thanks.

"y/n- stop- wait lemme see that-" she snatches the paper out of your hand and scans it, eyes lighting up when she confirms you did in fact pass.

"congratulations! all that hard work really paid off."

you're blushing, "couldn't have done it without you hirai. c'mon, come out with my friends and i tonight to celebrate!"

"o-oh i don't know about that y/n... i've got-"

"study yeah yeah you always do. but you've gotta relax every now and then you know?"

"miss l/n is right momo. you're the most hardworking student here you should give yourself a break every now and then."

you're nodding fiercely, "right right! thanks professor kim!"

she looks at you with a glare, "kwon. its professor kwon miss l/n."

you're nodding, waving her off shaking momo, "c'mon pleaseeeeeeee? i'll pay for everything. as a thanks for helping me. and i can afford it now too since i won't be losing my scholarship which is also thanks to you so..!"

momo's still uncertain, hand at the back of her neck again, a nervous tick you've picked up on.

"oh professor i just remembered!" you're switching back to your professor, excitement and attention everywhere, "you were looking for outstanding students to tutor next semester right? how about momo? she's the only reason i passed this final and trust me when i say i'm a pretty difficult student to teach."

"oh?" the professor looks towards momo who's eyes have widened, "i had actually planned on asking you regardless but seeing as you were very successful with miss l/n it's just even more proof that you'd be a great teacher. what do you say momo? it's paid decently and great on your academic and work transcripts as well..."

you're looking between your professor and momo with full eyes.

momo looks like she's about to reject the offer, you knew it was because her parents expected her to be back in japan next year but you stop her before she's able to say anything.

"momo! this is great! this is exactly what you need! a job while you're still at uni so you can study at any time but still get paid for it!"

"y/n..."

"it's okay momo. think about it and let me know if you're interested and you've got the job 100%. i've got to get going to my next class now but goodbye girls, congratulations miss l/n but i hope i won't be seeing you in my class next year."

"oh definitely not professor kim!" you wave enthusiastically, giggling at the way the professor sighs in defeat.

you look back at momo who still looks a little stunned.

"well? what do you think?" you ask her excitedly.

"i- i don't know... there's a lot to think about..."

you tilt your head to the side a little in confusion, a gesture momo was beginning to grow fond of.

"i can't just abandon my family y/n. it's a decision that will take me some time to go over." she smiles at you gently, you can't believe this was the same girl who used to call you mean words and intentionally pray on your downfall.

"mm okay. i don't really get it but as long as you're happy in the end it doesn't matter. now c'mon! you coming tonight or not?"

she sighs fondly, "yeah yeah just this once. and we better be home by 12!"

you're pulling her along again scoffing, "riiiiiiiiight 12pm maybe."

"y/n!"

⋆｡°✎ᝰ ˎˊ˗

momo was most definitely out of her comfort zone. she mostly stuck to the bar, avoiding eye contact with people who tried to approach her. she quickly ordered another drink, hoping the alcohol could at least ease her nerves.

you were most definitely in your zone. you adored being able to dress up and let loose, especially when everyone else is so drunk you’re no longer the only person falling over themselves. you could laugh a little and have fun as well.

you could feel momo’s eyes on you and you ached to drag her out onto the dance floor and join you but she was adamant on staying by the bar when you had tried.

you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or maybe you were just attracted to her now after you’ve spent a whole week studying with her pretty much every minute of every day. but she looked good. you licked your lips as your eyes trailed down the slant of her jawline, her neck and clavicles outlined in the halter top she was sporting. your eyes politely moved past her chest but darted straight down to the abs that she apparently had hidden from the entire student body. how did she even have time to have abs when she always had her nose in a book or was in a lab conducting experiments?

you snap out of it when you realise said abs were moving closer to you for some reason, and suddenly she's all in your space, shoving someone behind you that you hadn't even realised was there in your momo-induced daze.

you turn to see a man with half his shirt unbuttoned and a look of surprise on his face. "the fuck dude?"

momo says nothing, reaching for your drink instead, sticking a finger in and swirling it around for 2 seconds before bringing it to her lips.

that was hot.

"rohypnol."

"what? what the fuck are you on about?" the guy is annoyed, drawing the attention of bystanders as they create a small circle around the three of you, you spot your friends in the crowd looking at you in confusion silently asking what's going on?

you can only shake your head, attention moving back to momo who's standing up straight, almost chest to chest with the guy now.

"rohypnol. a drug belonging to the benzodiazepine class of drugs that inhibits the central nervous system causing the user to experience extreme drowsiness and even blackout in some cases. it can also cause the user memory loss and brings the user to a higher state of intoxication in a rapid amount of time. it's street name is roofies."

the man is sputtering now, "w-what? what is this bullshit? what are you tryna say huh?"

"that you tried to roofie my friend here. do you want me to call the police? have them check this drink for traces of the drug?"

"what!? the fuck?!"

momo sighs, her eyes closing for a second, "is your vocabulary only limited to what? and the fuck? it's getting tiring talking to you."

he's gaping like a fish, the people surrounding you have called security over and they're tying his hands behind his back and he's left squirming against them, yelling more curses as momo stands stoically, watching him get taken away.

she sighs when he's out of sight and turns to you with a smile, "you should be more careful. you could've been hurt tonight."

you can't even think straight and the music is being turned back up, and momo looks so good, you can't help the way you're pulling her in by the waist and planting your lips on hers.

she makes a sound of surprise and is shocked for a second, but closes her eyes and returns the kiss, maneuvering you a little so she can place the spiked drink on a nearby table before her hand returns to you, one hand cupping your cheek, the other on your shoulder.

you're a little desperate when you claw at her abs that are now within touching distance, and she giggles into the kiss. you mutter a small shut up, reattaching your lips, feeling all the adrenaline of the night pumping through you as you mould yourself against her.

"god is it weird that- that kinda turned me on a little?" you're speaking between breaths, her lips swallowing up your words, not letting you catch a break.

she hums lightly against you, "which part?"

"the- when you were talking- about all those chemicals- and whatever-"

she breaks away from you then, an eyebrow arched and a hint of a smirk on her face, "you get off on me talking nerdy?"

you want to wipe that smirk off her face. "take me home and i'll show you what i get off on."

her eyes darken considerably, and she's tugging you towards the exit, grabbing the spiked drink and pouring it down the drain first to make sure no one drinks it. the little action of consideration even when you're both overwhelmed with lust just gets you more wet.

you send a quick text to your friends saying you had to leave early, and then you're in a cab, lips on each other's again, hands roaming and exploring every inch of available skin.

you suppose the one good thing out of that math exam was it bringing the two of you together at last.

#momo #hirai momo #twice momo #momo x reader #momo x f!reader #momo x fem!reader #twice x reader #twice x fem!reader #twice x f!reader #momo imagines #twice imagines #royaltozaki

[jordyn14]

Hi can you please write a Joe x reader where they’re getting ready for a wedding (or some other formal event) But Joe is playing catch with their son and reader keeps telling them to come inside and get ready and Joe keeps saying 5 more minutes

Pairing: Joe Burrow x fem first person

Words: 2739

Notes: I have been swamped with finals this week and probably most of next week as well, but I’m still trying to find the time to write. I hope you enjoy!! <3

Taglist: @wickedfun9

“I’m almost done doing my hair, can you put Benji’s shoes on?” I called out to Joe who was just in the room building legos with our 5 year old son a little bit ago. As soon as I finished curling the last strand of hair, I flipped all of my hair to the front and looked at myself in the mirror for the millionth time and to my pregnant belly which was showing through my dress. About a week ago I started to show and I couldn’t wait to have another kid, especially if he or she was anything like Benji.

Today is the day one of my good friends get’s married to her high school sweetheart, and I am so excited. When we met at college my first year, I always talked about how I wanted a love just like hers. For one, their relationship was so stable. There was never a time when they wouldn’t trust each other or went behind each other’s backs because their relationship was built around honestly and loyalty. I never thought I would have that kind of relationship until I met Joe. People always talk about love at first sight, and I didn’t believe them until I experienced it with Joe.

After a few seconds of not hearing any response from Joe or Benji and not hearing the clattering of legos as they tried to make something new, I peaked my head out and saw the empty bedroom. I raised my eyebrow in confusion since Joe said they were all done and didn’t need to do anything else to get ready except put shoes on. Thinking that maybe they were one step ahead of me, I headed out of the room and downstairs where I searched and searched and found no sign of either of them.

All of a sudden, I could hear them playing outside. “That was a perfect throw dad!” Benji yelled from outside. I couldn’t help but smile as soon as I heard him and headed for the back door. I should’ve known that they were outside. As soon as Joe found out we were having a little boy, he bought all kinds of sporting equipment for kids so his son could try out every sport with him to decide what he liked best. Joe bought baseballs, basketballs, soccer balls, golf clubs, volleyballs, tennis rackets, and of course footballs. Every day leading up to the day our son could actually really use all of the equipment, Joe talked nonstop about how much he wanted him to grow up.

As soon as I turned the corner and looked out of the huge glass sliding door, I saw Joe and Benji throwing a foam football around the yard. The first thing that caught my eye was my perfect husband in a suit. Yes, a suit. Even though I knew the jacket and tie would come off towards the end of the night, I was so excited when he told me he was wearing one. Joe looks great in almost everything he wears, and he wears some pretty questionable things, but a suit always looks absolutely amazing. I could barely take my eyes off of him and the way his fluffy hair hung on forehead. Oh and that smile. It never left his face when he was with the people he loved.

After practically drooling over my husband for a few seconds while I walked to the door, I looked down at little Benji who used all of his might to throw that foam football all the way up at Joe who looks huge compared to Benji. It was adorable seeing him use every ounce of strength to muscle it up to him. Benji is a lot like Joe in the way that they are both extremely competitive. In baseball, Benji wants to field every grounder and hit home runs every single time. When he doesn’t, he cries. It’s heartbreaking to see him so worked up over something as simple as him not getting a hit or not being the best on the team yet even though he’s the youngest, but then I remember that he’s a lot like Joe in pretty much every fiber of his being. Benji is sensitive as well as competitive, and Joe’s been helping him so much with his little emotions.

When Joe caught the ball which was a perfect throw to his chest, he had the biggest and encouraging smile on his face and leaned his arm back to throw it back gently. Although I couldn’t hear Joe because he wasn’t yelling like Benji was, I could see him say, ‘that was great, Benji. This time, make sure to step with your left foot like I taught you.’ Benji jumped a little bit and yelled with a laugh, “oh yeah, I forgot!” Joe just chuckled and threw the football back to Benji who caught it.

When I got closer and Joe saw something walking towards him, he looked over at me and as soon as he saw me, his face lit up and he gave me that adorable and toothy smile that I love so much. The way he let out a relieved breath to see his wife coming over to him, the way clenched and unclenched his hands nervously, and the way he couldn’t take his eyes off of me made butterflies fly around in my stomach. Even though we’ve been together for years, it still feels like a little teenage romance. It always feels young and alive. I also couldn’t help but notice how his cheeks flushed red when he looked me up and down repeatedly, keeping his eyes on not only my pregnant belly but my face extra long.

As soon as Benji heard the door start to open, he looked at the door super quick and instead of throwing it to Joe like he was about to, smiled up at me, showing me that big gap in his teeth where he lost his first ever tooth just a few days ago. Just to make sure Benji didn’t wake up that night when the ‘tooth fairy’ came, Joe dressed up as a little fairy and went into his room to put the money under his pillow, although I said I could do it since I would be a more convincing fairy. Luckily Benji didn’t wake up to see just how different the tooth fairy looked in person.

“Did you see me throw the ball? I’m getting better!” Benji said and looked back to his dad and threw the ball. This time, he stepped with his left food and threw it perfectly to Joe. “You’re getting so much better at throwing. Pretty soon, you’ll be just like your daddy on the field.” I said with a smile. Watching them together brought me so much Joy, especially watching Joe be a dad, which he’s always wanted. “Really?” Benji said with a shocked look on his face. Joe chuckled at benji’s reaction. “If you keep practicing, I can guarantee you that you’ll be the best football player around. But right now, we need to go or we’ll be late.” I said, trying to get them to come inside and finish getting ready, since Benji now had dirt on his hands and they both had dirt on their shoes.

Right when I said this, Benji’s bottom lip stuck out slightly but was about to walk over to me when Joe said, “aw, 5 more minutes?” I glared up at Joe jokingly. Of course he decided to do this now when we had to go somewhere. We both held eye contact as he gave me those adorable puppy dog eyes, and then I looked to Benji who looked excited. “Yeah, 5 more minutes! Please mommy?” He asked me. Benji looked over at me and then to Joe who was still giving me those pitiful eyes. The next thing I knew, Benji was copying Joe and was now giving me puppy dog eyes as well. After a few seconds, I caved. “You guys are impossible. 5 more minutes if you promise to put on your outdoor shoes so I can clean up your good ones.” I said. “Okay!” Benji said and ran over to me.

Like his life depended on it, he took off his shoes and ran inside of the house, not wanting to waste any of those 5 minutes I gave him. “Grab your dad’s shoes too!” I called out to Benji who disappeared. While Joe headed over to me, I heard something hit the floor extremely hard and was about to run in to see if Benji fell when he yelled, “I’m okay!” Joe and I both let out a laugh as I turned to him as he was taking off his shoes. After picking up Benji’s, I grabbed Joe’s shoes from him. Joe then leaned down and placed a kiss on my lips.

“Thank you, we’re just having so much fun.” Joe said, wrapping an arm around me to pull me closer to him. “I know. I love watching you guys have fun. And you know what, you are a fucking dilf. Guaranteed, I will have the most handsome and sexy man at the wedding tonight.” I laughed. Joe reached down and squeezed my butt. I let out a little yelp, not expecting it, and slapped his arm while laughing. “Oh yeah? Well you’re going to be the most gorgeous and sexiest woman at the wedding tonight.” Joe said with that smirk on his face.

Just as Joe and I closed the distance between us and were about to kiss, Benji ran between the both of us and back outside so he could continue playing with Joe. Joe and I just looked at each other, wishing we had more time alone. “C’mon, we only have 5 more minutes!” Benji giggled and threw the ball up to himself so he could play catch with himself. “Okay, okay, I’m comin’.” Joe said and placed a kiss on my lips. Before he went over to Benji, he leaned in close to my ear until I could feel his breath on my neck. Shivers ran down my spine and I could feel my cheeks heating up. “We can continue this after he goes to bed tonight.” Joe whispered in my ear.

I sucked in a small breath and smiled like crazy as he backed up from me with that smirk on his face and went to play with Benji. I looked away from Joe and took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. The things this man did to me. He really didn’t even need to do anything special to turn me on or make me feel like the luckiest girl in the entire world. He did that with just one look. With one look he could make me weak at the knees and feel so confident and beautiful.

Once I calmed down, I walked inside and washed both of their shoes until they looked brand new. The whole time I was washing them, I looked outside to Benji and Joe who were giggling, laughing, running around, and having an amazing time. I couldn’t stop smiling as the realization of just how perfect our amazing life was. After 10 minutes, I headed back outside.

As soon as I opened up the door, Benji started walking over to me after tossing the ball to Joe. This time he wasn’t as bummed. “Oh come on, 5 more minutes?” Joe begged, throwing the ball from hand to hand and spinning it on his palm like he always does during football games and practices. Once again, Benji just looked at his dad with a shocked expression on his face at the fact that he asked for another 5 minutes.

I bit my lower lip and tried my best to hide my smile and instead look mad at Joe, but I couldn’t. “Please. We’ll be well behaved the whole time and I won’t ask to leave early.” Joe begged. I shook my head and rolled my eyes at him. “Whether or not I let you have 5 more minutes, you’ll still ask to leave early.” I said with a laugh, knowing Joe always asks to leave early at almost every single event we go to. Hell, he even asked to leave our wedding early so we could have some alone time together and not be surrounded by friends and family.

“I’ll eat all of my veggies. I promise!” Benji added in, trying to get me to give them 5 more minutes. Looking down at how adorable Benji looked, I caved again and was about to walk back inside. “Come and play with us. If you do, I won’t ask for any more time.” Joe said. “Yeah, come play with us! Come play with us!” Benji jumped up and down and ran over to me. I laughed as Benji grabbed onto my hand and tried his best to drag me with him. He let out a few grunts so I walked with him. “Okay, but only if you promise to eat up all of those green veggies and if you, Mr Burrow, act half as well behaved as Benji.” I said. “Yay! Ok, mom, be Ted, and I’ll be Ja’marr. Dad, you already know who you are.” Benji said as Joe tossed me the football he was holding.

Joe and I just looked at each other and laughed at what Benji said about Joe already knowing that he was in fact Joe Burrow in this game. Doing what Benji said, I walked over to Joe who gave me a wink, loving that I got to be his center. I rolled my eyes at him and punched his stomach jokingly. Joe grunted a little bit at the contact, not expecting it, and then smirked down at me. “Y’know, this games going to be more fun with you as my center.” Joe said while I turned around so my back was facing him. I laughed and bent down a little bit.

Then, I felt Joes hands on my butt and turned around to look at Joe. I put a hand over my mouth to try and stop myself from laughing at how this looked. “Well this looks familiar.” I said and started laughing. Just as Joe was about to make a comment about what I said, Benji asked, “what does that mean? Ted’s his center.” Both of our eyes widened a little bit and I looked back over to Benji who looked confused. “We sometimes play this game when you’re at school buddy.” Joe said, coming up with something quickly. I looked back at Joe with a shocked expression and sighed. Even if Benji had no idea what we were talking about, it was still weird hearing him say that to our son.

“Oh, that makes sense I guess. Alright, snap the ball!” Benji said excitedly and got ready to run and catch the pass from Joe. Shaking my head, I bent down a little bit again and once again felt Joe’s hands on my butt, but this time he gave it a little squeeze. Joe clapped his hands and then said, “Set, hut,” before I snapped it to him and he got set up to throw it to Benji. With a smile on his face the entire time, Benji ran to the side and caught the pass from Joe. “Touchdown!” Joe yelled and held up his hands. Just as Benji was about to stop, he slipped a little bit and fell straight towards the concrete patio.

“Ow.” Was all Benji got out as he came in contact with the ground. Both Joe and I started to run to Benji at his reaction, thinking he got hurt and was about to cry, but all he did was stand up and throw the ball at the ground like Joe does when he runs one in. Joe and I laughed before I looked down and noticed the big hole in Benji’s pants from skidding his knee against the concrete. Just as I looked down, Benji looked down at the hole in his pants and his bloody knee and said, “Oopsies.”I let out a little laugh while shaking my head and turned to Joe who was still laughing at Benji’s celebration. “Oh brother,” Was all I said, knowing we were going to be late to the wedding.

#joe burrow #joeburrow #cincinnati bengals #nfl #joe burrow bengals #joe shiesty #joey b #bengals #joey burrow #joe burr #joe burrow imagine #joe x reader #joe #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow x reader #fluff #nfl imagine #imagine #nfl fan fiction #nfl football

[lustylita]

After it all happened.

Angst/ Open ending.

Idea is by me, but with the help of the amazing @nyx-umbrakinesis 's beautiful writing skills, I present this angsty idea!

Go give her love omg!

_______________________________________________

The extermination had ended... time had passed and the devastation left behind had been mended... mostly, the hotel had been rebuilt, Sir Pentious had been mourned and memorialised, and you... you found yourself actually beginning to be able to process what had happened.

The trauma still fresh, but day by day it's symptoms becoming more manageable. It was in this more awakened state... (as you focused more on the problems of the others around you rather than your own,) you noticed one glaringly out of sorts issue – Alastor.

He was behaving like everything was fine, like the battle had never occurred, like everyone around him hadn’t suffered either – something was off... Was it denial? You could tell something wasn’t right, his trademark smile was slightly strained, his face looking more contorted and uncomfortable than usual, and his posture constantly stiff, as though ready to fight (or flee) at a moments notice, on top of all of that he spent so much more time cooped up in his radio tower, you barely saw him as he whiled away hours upon hours away from the company others, behind the locked door of his safe space for it to be a coincidence.

You simmer on this information, and agonise for a few weeks, observing just to make sure you weren’t imagining things – even though highly unlikely – you also waited to see if he would open up to anyone, share why he’s been acting like Quasimodo in his bell tower.

However, to absolutely no-ones surprise, he did in fact not do that, (even though everyone was in the same boat, all of you suffering some form of injury or trauma).

So, with a determined air, and confident gait, you ventured up to his radio broadcast station. Footsteps echoing slightly on the wooden floorboards as you ascend the stairs, breathing labouring, legs aching from the ascent.

You knew Alastor didn’t like anyone intruding upon the sanctity of his precious room, and wouldn’t appreciate this gesture of goodwill, preferring to interact with others in the common areas when he was free, but given his new proclivity for hiding away he hadn’t really given you any other choice, since he’s never present in the public areas of the hotel anymore.

Arriving at the heavy door, teetering back and forth on your heels and toes nervously for a moment, you take a deep breath, steeling your nerves.

You reach up with a sure hand and knock loudly on his door and wait. You heard rustling of scattered papers and the clang of something sturdy being knocked over in haste, and fumbling as he clearly tried to correct the error.

In this it became evident to you that your suspicions were correct, he was indeed hiding, or withholding, something of significance, you blinked several times snapping out of your thoughts when the door squeaked as it swifly opened.

“Ah, hello little one! To what do I owe this visit!” Alastor says with an exaggerated flair, his smile tensed, and his eye twitched looking more manic than you’ve seen from your observation of him this whole week.

Before you could get any words out however, he continued as though filled with effervescent bubbles, really overemphasising every movement and word, his smile looked like a wide crack in a porcelain plate, “Do come in, my dear, my broadcast won’t begin for another hour, I have plenty of time for a special guest,” He guided you inside, a hand ghosting on the small of your back, almost forcefully,

“Come on, in, in,” his voice sounded unnerving.

You took this as the opportune moment to confront him, so after taking another nervous breath and taking note of a bead of sweat travelling down his forehead.

“Alastor, I know you don’t like divulging your feelings, and that’s all well and good... But I do feel like opening up could be cathartic for you... To put it bluntly, ever since the extermination you’ve been acting strange – more so than usual. Alastor everyone’s beginning to notice, it’s getting more and more obvious with every day that goes by. You’re withdrawn, you don’t torment Husk nearly as much as you used to, even Charlie and Niffty can’t get your attention, and you literally set Vaggie on fire last week,” You nervously twirled the ring on your index finger around and around (a nervous tick) as you watched his whole body freeze.

“I haven’t the faintest clue what you’re insinuating, my dear.” his voice sounding strained as he dismissed your theories.

Just as you’d predicted. However his nonchalant attitude about the situation was anything but, with the way he looked at you with a rigid grin, and stiff posture all but confirmed everything.

And you knew... you knew, that if you pushed slightly, put pressure on the raw emotion you would get at least some form of an answer. So without any self preservation.

“Alastor please.” Sounding exhausted, “You know I’m not ignorant, I thought it would be better if I came to you first about this, or would you rather it were Charlie who came to see you in this state? I think this solution to be the lesser of two evils, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your brow raised as you tried to rationalise with him, in contrast his brow began to furrow in irritation, his ears even pulled back, and you could swear you almost heard a growl, “I would prefer if all of you left me well enough alone. If I wanted assistance, I would ask. Quite the probing busybodies you lot are, leave me be.”

He stalked over to his desk, his boots making a dull thud, almost stomping, before huffing and taking a seat in his chair heavily, all while still regarding you intimidatingly with displeased narrowed crimson eyes, his grin still unchanged.

With an agitated huff of your own, you slowly approach Alastor again, “Us? Busybodies? Says the man who relishes every opportunity to intrude into people’s personal space, get in peoples faces for the sheer entertainment of it all. God forbid the people who have spent months with you getting to know you, enjoying your company actually care about you Alastor!”

Angrily pacing before him, your hands gesturing wildly in your temper, “so why don’t you please just enlighten me on what’s wrong, at least then I can stop Charlie from coming up here and dealing with you in this state, and then maybe I can let you go back to whatever it is you’re doing in here all day everyday, become a hermit for all I care, just tell me and then I can leave, I want to actually enjoy my afternoon.”

You knew goading him was risky, but he really knew how to push your buttons, having now paused before his chair again leaving but a few inches between you as you puff like an angered wildebeest.

You observe him, his expression darkened, but as he looked up at you, you saw it again, the same facade, cracking him again, making your heart lurch, he laughed at you condescendingly.

Rolling his eyes, Alastor looks back to you coldly, “Absolutely, nothing is wrong with me.” His voice becoming more scratchy as the radio effect worsens, suddenly he’s towering over you.

Hoping intimidation would be enough to deter you he continues, patronising you, “I’m not a weak little demon like you dear, I don’t need someone to hold my hand, or help take me for a walk, or talk about my feelings in a nice little share circle.” His grin became dangerous.

“I’m an overlord, one of the most feared in all of hell, I am quite capable of dealing with my own issues, not that I have any. I don’t need you or anyone else in this tacky hotel to think you could possibly make any impact on me when you’re all just such pathetic little failures, I can’t believe you of all demons think that I care, well allow me to disabuse you of this notion. I don’t and never will, and if yo-“

Alastor watches with manic glee as your eyes quickly harden with rage and your shoulders begin to twitch bunching up with unbridled rage, as you react faster than you can think, your arm coiling back, with full intention of giving a well deserved slap to the contentious lanky shit, however, before your hand could move barely an inch, Alastor fast as lightning grabs your wrist.

Now also enraged at your impudence, Alastor menacingly backs you up, until you find yourself pressed against the red cold glass window overlooking the exterior of the hotel, his grip on your wrist bruising and tinged with pain, as he leans down towards your ear. Uttering in a low angry growl, his breath tickling your ear.

“Would you care to try that again, dear?”

#hazbinhotel #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #oc #alastor x oc #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #agnst

[sydnikov]

Fleeting || A. Svechnikov

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov / fem!Reader

Word Count: 17.5k

Summary: Every moment with Andrei is fleeting.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f and m receiving), cheating(?), toxic relationship, alcoholic consumption, angst, cursing, no happy ending, Andrei-is-a-dick™

A/N: For those of you who have already been following me, you might remember this post—that’s what this is based on :) This is also the longest fic I’ve ever written so that’s insane, but sorry not sorry. Get ready, this one’s gonna hurt 🤭

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Andrei doesn’t love you.

It becomes clear for you months after you start fucking him on the side. His likeness for you is merely an obsession, something to have all to himself.

You’re his, or were his, and that’s how he saw you. Nothing more than that, or at least that’s the conclusion you’ve come to after months apart lets you reflect on your relationship with him.

Spending a lot of time in your head, you think. About him, his actions, why he couldn’t love you the way you love him.

He always held you close to him, one muscular arm curled around your waist while the other likely held a drink in his hand. He paraded you around like a prize, happy to show off the hot piece of meat he likely thought of you as at his side.

It was hard to reach him, literally and metaphorically. You had to stand up on your toes to reach his ear, and the power imbalance just by your height difference alone only made the whole thing hotter, merely one aspect of your relationship you never really could get over.

Every time you spoke it had him grinning in a way that made you think he knew something you didn’t. You’re already so shy, too, and it’s what made up your whole demeanor, what drew him to you in the first place.

He likes sweetness. Innocence, quiet—that way you couldn’t rebel. And he loved it when you doted on him. You did your best to be everything he wanted in a girl, too. Bold makeup, skimpy clothing, speaking only to him and him alone. Best of all, you didn’t question him. His actions, his decisions, why he’d sometimes go days without speaking to you but once he called you again, you would come running without hesitation.

It took you too long to realize that he only liked you because you were someone he could fall back on when the freedom of his escapades got too boring and he needed stability. The thing is that Andrei loved you being his, but he didn’t want to ever be yours.

And you know this now, you do. The moment you went no contact and left his apartment in tears, you were calling your best friend for support and to reinforce the fact that he is the asshole, not you.

Sometimes, though, you dream. Of his hands on you, his mouth on your neck, his thick cock pounding into you from behind. The toxicity of it all that, despite everything, felt so good because your emotions were always on overdrive when with him.

Mostly, you liked feeling desired. Nobody had ever pursued you the way he did, even if your body is all he really wanted from you to begin with.

It’s been months since you confessed your feelings for him and he told you to leave; months of you wallowing, going to work, meeting with friends for drinks as a shell of yourself because without Andrei, life suddenly seemed colorless.

You miss him. The excitement, the tension, the way he made you feel. And you pride yourself on being confident, but all self respect flies out the window the moment his name is brought up. It’s wrong, too, you swear you know this, and you imagine countless times telling him off, if you ever run into him again.

For treating you like a body to warm his dick, a soulless individual with no feeling… You’re reminded of the last conversation you had with him yet again, the one that ended everything. You’d been seeing each other for months when it occurred. Months full of Andrei and the rollercoaster of emotions he had you on.

To get to the end, though, you have to go back to the beginning.

It’s January of twenty twenty-three, and you’re freshly twenty-one and experiencing the world in a way you never could before. Riding the high of getting your first serious job in college, it took no convincing at all for you to let your best friend, Maria, convince you to go out on a Friday night to celebrate your blossoming lives.

“Who are we meeting there, again?” You ask, painting your lips a bright red in front of Maria’s full-body mirror. You’ve already started pregaming, and your head is starting to buzz in just the way you like it.

Your blonde friend is quickly curling her hair, despite the fact that she’s had hours to get ready and still procrastinated until you arrived at her apartment. “Some friends from work. You probably won’t know them,” She says offhandedly, finishing her hair in record timing before snatching up the two dresses she had previously laid out on her bed. “Should I wear this in black or red?”

Raising a brow, you question her wording. “Considering I don’t work with you, I doubt I would.” Laughing, you turn your head away from the mirror to examine the two dresses she’s holding up to her body. “Do the red one, it makes your eyes pop.”

Anything would look good on Maria, though. She has this timeless sort of beauty, a blonde, blue-eyed bombshell that has eyes turning her way wherever she goes. You’d be jealous if you didn’t mind her taking all the attention off of you, considering you’re nowhere near as bold as her.

It will especially come in handy tonight, too, since these co-workers of hers are ones you’ve never met before and you don’t exactly plan on getting too close to them.

“This is why I get ready with you,” Maria sighs happily, unceremoniously throwing the black dress back onto her bed. “Oh! I almost forgot, I have heels for you!” She’s then running back into her closet, ruffling through a box before emerging with a pair of bright red stilettos.

“What’s with the red theme tonight?” You giggle as she tosses the heels to you. They look expensive, a brand you don’t recognize written in cursive on the inside of the leather soles. Maria insisted you incorporate red into your outfit tonight, whether it be subtle or bold.

She eyes you from her position on the bed, somehow managing to zip up her dress one-handed. “You don’t watch sports by any chance, do you?”

Throwing back the last of a vodka shot, you wince before responding. “My dad made me watch baseball with him sometimes?”

Maria’s face lights up like she suddenly knows something you don’t. All she does is hum in response, biting her lip like she’s holding back from telling you something.

Or, you’re just drunk. You’ve always been a lightweight. “What?” You ask anyway, finally standing up as you adjust yourself.

The blonde walks over to you, fixes the creases in your little black dress and affixes you with an approving stare. “Don’t worry about it,” Suddenly, she’s whirling around to go back for her phone, which is laid faced down on the nightstand. “Ooh, I knew those heels were a good choice. You look so good!”

As she saunters back over, wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you into her side and poses for a picture, you forget all about the abrupt topic change and the fact that her red theme with questions of sports does mean something, after all.

Truthfully, you still can’t remember exactly how you got from her apartment and into a high-end bar you’ve only ever seen advertised online. Bits and pieces of an Uber ride along with downing more shots come to mind, but it’s all hazy.

You don’t really care to remember though, either, as Maria leads you through the crowded bar, arm linked through yours, with a purpose. The music is loud, so loud you think you can see the walls moving, but that’s also probably just your swimming vision.

“Here they are!” Maria is shouting over the noise, and you follow her gaze to a group of tall, imposing men surrounding two booths right by the bar.

“Those are you coworkers?” You ask, a little incredulous. Scratch that—very incredulous.

She sends you a mischievous grin. “I said friends, girl. Meet my friends!” That’s what gathers their attention, and you’re suddenly reminded that she’s just as tipsy as you right now, if not more.

Ah, fuck, you think as one of the men come over and pull Maria into a hug. He looks at you questioningly after they pull apart, and you send him a small, nervous smile.

Damn it, Maria.

“You must be the friend she mentioned,” He says, again looking to the blonde beside you for confirmation. “From college, yeah?”

That seems to snap Maria out of whatever stunned stupor she’d been in, and she tunes back into your conversation by, again, pulling you into her. “My best friend,” She swoons, and yeah. She’s definitely drunk now.

“Nice to meet you,” He’s chuckling, and seems to be familiar with her antics. “I’m Martin.”

You introduce yourself and shake his offered hand. “Any leftover shots, by any chance?” While taking the lead in conversation with people you’ve never met before might seem odd, you don’t think you can rely on Maria to socialize for you considering she’s already falling into your side.

“I can check, if you want to follow me—ah, shit,” Martin curses, suddenly, then quickly apologizes to the two of you before rushing over to a man with a mustache attempting to climb on top of a table.

“Interesting friends, Maria,” You say into her ear as you reluctantly follow him, keeping her close. “Who’s the one with the mustache?”

She seems to gain a little bit of her wits back to give you a description of all the guys within your eyesight. “The mustache is Seth, super friendly but also, uh… Super drunk. He’s Canadian.”

You’re not sure why you need to know his nationality, but she continues before you can ask.

“And you just met Martin, right? Yeah, he’s really nice. His girlfriend, Nykki, is gorgeous, they’re both from Czechia. Then there’s the really tall one, behind Seth? No, other side. Yeah, that’s Jesperi. A bit of a flirt even though we’re all pretty sure he has a girlfriend, but he still won’t admit it. He’s Finnish.”

Maria continues to describe a few of the others, but truthfully, you tune out after Jesperi because a man about the same height as the Finn is suddenly approaching the group, and looks to be the only one Seth listens to because that’s who gets him to crawl down from the table.

You don’t know why he catches your attention so suddenly, but something about him… He turns, and you’re able to catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Immediately, you come to find there’s no accurate word to describe him. His beauty simply transcends any compliment you could give; instead, you interrupt your friend from her spiel.

“Hey Mare, Mare—who’s that?” Slapping her arm, you point towards the now-laughing stranger. He’s looking around as he does so, which is when he makes contact with your starstruck eyes. He looks amused, then seems to recognize the blonde beside you, and then he’s cutting through the crowd to meet you.

Maria gives you a look before also spotting the approaching stranger, and a large smile lights up her face. It’s a smile you’re very familiar with, one that enraptures every man who catches a glimpse of her pearly whites.

You quickly come to the conclusion that this is why she was so eager to go out. She’s likely had her eye on him for a while, and you struggle to keep the disappointment from your face as she purrs his name.

“Hey, Andrei,” She says, a little giggly. “Great game today, you all played awesome.”

Andrei… You test the name silently, liking the way it feels on your tongue. He’s even taller up close, and you can see the muscle definition straining through the fabric of his shirt. He’s huge, and you feel incredibly small standing next to him.

“Thank you,” He replies, his voice deep. A little husky, definitely accented, but you’re not sure from where. “Who’s your friend?” He changes topic quickly, and those dark eyes are back on you once again.

Maria, as ditzy as she can be, does notice the subtle change in him. Andrei has never been overly flirty with her like she has with him, and she’d be an idiot not to notice the way his eyes were drawn to you the moment he spotted you.

She’s used to having all sorts of attention from the opposite sex, and the Russian hockey player is all sorts her type. It’s amusing though, watching how you melt under his gaze, thinks ‘me too’, and then decides to help you out.

“This is my friend from college,” She introduces you, says your name and watches as he takes it in like it’s very important information. Grabbing your hand from where it rests at your side, she holds it out to Andrei for you, snickers as you send her a glare. “And this is Andrei. He plays for the Carolina Hurricanes.”

This is why she asked you if you watch sports, you suddenly connect the dots. And why she was telling you where all these people are from. Her friends from work are actually sports players, and you understand why she didn’t say it outright.

These guys, they’re famous, right? Your stomach twists, and you suck in a breath as Andrei takes your hand. His palm envelops yours, and he brings it to his lips to press a heated kiss to your skin.

The greeting is outdated, but for whatever reason it suits him. You think the kiss is a promise, too, as his thumb swipes over the back of your hand.

“That’s hockey, right?” You intend to ask Maria, but you’re unable to take your eyes off of Andrei as he slowly lets go of you, like the contact is riveting for him, too. “In the NHL?”

“Yes,” He answers. “You don’t watch?” You’re not a fan like he’d expect. Strangely enough, he likes that you don’t follow them. It makes you all the more interesting, someone new to pick apart for his pleasure.

You flush, turning red under his unrelenting gaze. Suddenly, you feel out of place with your lackluster hockey knowledge. “Not a huge sports girl, unfortunately.” You say slowly, but he catches your quiet words anyway.

He’s already tuned into you—has made you into a new game to win, in his mind.

“I can fix that.” Andrei grins, and it’s almost predatory as he smoothly slides his left arm around your waist. “Do you mind if I steal her?” He directs his question to Maria, but doesn’t really give her a chance to answer before pulling you  away.

Turning your head, you find her sending you a grin as she mouths something encouraging, holding up two thumbs-ups. She’s already decided that if she can’t have this sexy Russian, she wants you to instead.

“I like your heels,” His deep voice is in your ear, suddenly, and you take your eyes off of Maria to look up at Andrei, instead. “They’re the color of our jerseys.”

“Thank you,” You breathe, letting the warmth from his compliment wash over you. “Maria made me wear them.”

He clicks his tongue, like this information doesn’t surprise him. “She has good taste. Red is definitely your color.”

You flush again, finding that his eyes are already on you when you tilt your head up. Nobody has ever told you that before… Maria is always the one getting praise, not you.

The fast beating of your heart, shaky limbs and nervous breath, and you already know you’re falling for it. His charm, his looks, his confidence; it’s addicting, and you can’t force yourself to stop as you ever so slightly lean into him, letting his body envelop you.

Before you know it, you’ve arrived at the bar, and Andrei orders a drink over the loud bass that reverberates in your ears. It appears moments later - not fair - and then he’s sliding it towards you. You meet his eyes again as he smiles, raising a brow at your silence before he gestures to take it.

“For you,” He says. “Vodka cranberry. I have a feeling you like the fruity drinks, no?”

He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it. You’re not one for sipping hard, bitter liquor, even if it gets the job done. You’re not sure how you feel about him being able to read you so well, but you do like not having to carry the conversation.

“Am I that transparent?” You grin, though it’s laced with insecurity as you take a sip. It’s good, and helps calm your nerves.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, malyshka. It’s not a bad thing.”

You wouldn’t know it then, but he already began patronizing you the moment you met him. The Russian language is full of double-meanings, and malyshka, little one, is rather mocking. For him to know you so well already was a good thing for him, but for you? Not so much.

Andrei sees right through you, and he has from the very beginning.

“You’re not American, are you?” You change topic, suddenly, using the unfamiliar term he used as an excuse. “Your accent, it’s foreign.”

“Net—no, I’m not. Most of my teammates are out of country.” He replies. “I’m from Russia. Just here to play hockey.”

“Do you like it? Here in Raleigh?” You ask, a pitiful form of small talk to keep this sudden tension at bay.

“I do.” He replies. “I like it a whole lot more now that I’ve met you, though.” And then he’s smiling again, a grin rather feral as he looks at you like you’re his prey waiting to be devoured. He’s incredibly smooth as he puts his hands back on you, one sliding around the circumference of your waist while the other brings your hand holding the drink to his lips, taking a sip from the glass.

Your eyes go half-lidded at the motion, and Andrei knows he has you—hook, line, and sinker. He loves this game, but he thinks he likes you a little bit more than that, too.

Not that he’ll ever admit it.

“You just met me,” You blurt, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze.

Andrei, to his credit, takes your nervousness in stride. He finds it cute that he has that effect on you. “And I like you,” He counters, flashing a dazzling smile. “You’re cute. Small, like kisa.”

“Kisa?” You try out the unfamiliar word, your attempt at a Russian accent definitely not as sexy as his.

“Kitten,” He translates. “Will you purr for me?” It’s so disgustingly cheesy you can’t help but grimace, and Andrei laughs at the look on your face.

He steps closer, even more than he was before, and the way he looks down on you only makes the difference in height that much more noticeable. He’s so big… Normally you’d feel caged, but with him it feels safe, and that’s probably a red flag you won’t discover until much later.

You struggle finding something to say, but he beats you to it. “I’d like your number, if you’re willing to give it.” And he’s so smooth, so conniving with the way he asks it because he’s not demanding at all, letting you think you have all the power.

“Okay,” You breathe, eyes widening in awe as you don’t even have the chance to pull out your phone before he’s sliding his own into your hands. “You can add your contact.” He instructs, watching you type in your information.

It looks informal, your first and last name in his phone like you’re merely a coworker. You’ll blame it on you being tipsy later, but you add a smiley face at the end of your name, hoping it makes you stand out. You don’t know how many girls he has in his contacts but you’re not naive enough to think you’re the only one.

You lick your lips almost subconsciously as you hand Andrei his phone back, and he zeroes in on the motion. Suddenly, he has the urge to kiss you, and so he does just that. It catches you by surprise, but soon enough you’re melting into him as one large hand cradles your jaw, keeping you tilted up to him.

Andrei tastes like sin, like temptation and all things bad you were told to never get involved in as a kid. A forbidden fruit, perhaps, and there’s even hints of cranberry left on his tongue to cement that fact.

“Andrei…” You hum in surprise as he deepens the kiss, his lips soft and heavenly. It takes everything in you to pull back, to separate yourself from the addicting taste of him. “Wait, I don’t, um—”

You pause. Andrei looks confused, perhaps a little alarmed as his eyes flit over your face. “You don’t… Kiss anyone?”

“No! No,” You lower your voice, not wanting to attract any attention. “Of course I do. I just, I don’t hook up. For fun. Ever.”

He frowns, like he can’t fathom the idea that you don’t enjoy sex with no strings attached.

“Really,” he says, not quite a question. “You’re beautiful, though.” The charm comes back full force as his hand comes to brush away some of your hair that had fallen into your face. “Surely you have suitors, no?”

Your throat tightens, and suddenly your eyes are glassy as he looks at you with so much reassurance and affection. “Maria usually gets the ‘suitors’, not me.”

“I don’t believe that.” He responds immediately, and he looks so sure of himself as his head lowers, his eyes looking back and forth from yours to your lips, and you’re helpless to stop him as the hand moving your hair comes to rest on your cheek.

It’s all very convincing, the sudden care and adoration… You’ve never had a man treat you so delicate, like a prized possession, and you fall for it all too quickly.

“Let me take you out?” He soon asks, and there’s nothing you can really respond with other than yes.

Everything happens so quickly from here. Andrei becomes a centerpiece in your life, and you’re helpless to stop it as you fall for everything about him. You don’t truly become his ‘girlfriend’, but you are something more. Secret dates and midnight drives where no one can see you confirm that.

That’s why you think he’s finally turning serious about you when he shows up to your apartment at the beginning of March a few weeks before his playoffs start. He holds a large bouquet of roses, except your favorite flowers are gardenias because they remind you of your mom so your smile wobbles a little bit, but you let it slide for the romanticism of it all.

Andrei grins, the whites of his teeth blinding and he pulls you in and kisses the top of your head. He asks you if you’ll come to his playoff games, wear a WAG jacket and act as if what you are is official. You think you truly mean something to him after this, even though he never actually confirms it.

Suddenly you’re Andrei’s girl (but not really) and it becomes your entire identity. You essentially live with him as the playoffs come around, taking care of his apartment while he’s on the road. He talks of getting a dog over the summer, and you’re enthusiastic in your encouragement because you’ll have a friend to keep you company while he’s on the road.

His injury happens, though, and he’s out for good, at least for the rest of the season. You don’t know how to comfort him because your ‘relationship’ is so new, and it’s hard for you to understand why the anger at himself cuts so deep.

Ultimately, you fix the rough patch with sex. Lots and lots of sex. He works through his frustrations by taking you long, hard, and deep, mostly with him on top holding your throat while you take it like the good girl he tells you you are.

“‘Drei, your leg,” You remember saying to him one time as he slams you onto his bed, rolling directly on top of you. He doesn’t seem to hear you at first, too busy laying kisses to your neck.

“I don’t care.” He eventually responds, looking at you so darkly it leaves you shivering. He eats you out afterwards, and, well—you don’t have any more protests after that.

They win the first series against the New York Islanders in six games, and the moment the final goal is scored in overtime you’re jumping out of your seat along with the other WAG’s at one of their houses.

It’s exhilarating, rooting for something with every ounce of your being. You do it for Andrei - who still isn’t playing, but he was there watching - but mostly for yourself because you love the feeling of belonging to a community so close.

The second series ends sooner than the first, a five game victory over the New Jersey Devils, and this time you are at that final game. You sit with Andrei in a private booth at the top of PNC Arena, gripping his arm that also holds onto your thigh with the same amount of intensity.

The moment the final goal is scored - also in overtime - you’re hunching over your seat releasing a long breath. Andrei attempts to rise, then likely remembers his leg which forces him to grip the arms of his chair in strained acceptance.

“They did it,” You hear him whisper, like he can’t believe they actually came out of this series alive. “They did it.” He repeats himself, louder and more confident. You’re still folded over yourself, letting the anxiety drain out of you when he grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together.

“My kisa,” He says, waiting for you to turn your head so he can smile brilliantly at you. “We did it.”

“Not we,” And you grin back, because there’s nothing else for you to do but match his ecstasy. “You did it.”

“I didn’t even play,” Andrei is laughing, soaking in your praise like a sponge. “But I was here, wasn’t I?”

“You mean more to them than you’ll ever know.” More to me than you’ll ever know, you want to say, but hold back on that particular vulnerability.

After he finishes the team meeting in the locker room, you take him back to his house. He still hasn’t been given the all clear to drive, so you’ve taken up caretaker duties along with his mother.

You don’t think she likes you very much, either, but Andrei just says it takes a while for her to warm up to new people. Thankfully, she’s never around when you are though, because as you close the front door to his house he gives you a look equating to a meal he wants to devour.

Andrei seems to forget all about his knee, again, when he moves into you, pushing you back against the front door. “You drive me crazy.” He mumbles into your lips, and you don’t think you’re meant to respond as he moves to your neck.

You wore his jersey tonight, hoping it would bring the team good luck. You also happen to like how possessive he gets when he sees you in his clothes, especially wearing his name. It’s a little ridiculous, but you can’t lie and say you don’t love the attention.

Biting into your jugular, he tastes your rapidly beating heart before moving on, addicted to the sound of the moan that chokes its way out of your throat.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He breathes, massaging his hands into your waist as he pulls you away from the door. “And you’re going to love it, aren’t you? Because you’re such a good girl. My good girl.” His raspy voice leaves you holding back a whimper, and it’s hard to speak as he begins to sneak his hands under your jersey.

When you don’t respond because you’re too distracted by his hands, his damn hands, trailing up your ribs, he digs his fingers harshly into your skin. Your eyes snap open to find him almost glaring.

“Yes,” You think he wants to hear you say. “I’m yours.” You babble as his fingers let up, moving to cup your breasts over your bra as he pinches your nipples into hard points.

“That’s right,” He hums almost mockingly, hands now back to your waist as he pulls you after him to the path of his room. “No one else can make you feel like I do, yeah?”

This time he doesn’t expect a response as he pushes his door open, turning you around as you fall into his bed. Your head spins as the jersey you’re wearing rides up and Andrei quickly does the rest, slipping it off you with ease.

“Fuck,” You think he says, but you could care less as his bare hands are back on you, kneading the soft skin of your stomach and trailing back up the length of your torso. “No shirt underneath?”

“It was too hot outside,” You reply, breathless as you attempt to tug his suit and tie off, but that quickly proves to be more difficult. He tsks, thankfully deciding to aid you as he rids himself of his jacket. “You’re lucky that jersey is so thick.” He says, moreso to himself as he begins unbuttoning his slacks.

All that’s left is his undershirt and boxers, meanwhile you’re still left in your bra, jeans, and panties. Andrei must realize this too as he kicks his slacks off somewhere behind him. “Strip,” He commands, but you don’t need the reminder as you’re already one step ahead of him.

Your jeans and panties come off quickly, but it’s harder to remove your bra lying down. You eye the delicious specimen of a man above you, reaching out your hand for his own. “Help me?” You ask, biting your bottom lip before rolling onto your stomach.

Andrei mutters something behind you, but it’s clearly appraisal as the first thing his hands land on is your bare ass. He spends a few moments appreciating the view before his fingers trail up your back, unclipping your bra much quicker than you ever could have.

“You, kisa, are dangerous,” He teases, lowering himself to where his solid chest is pressing down on your back. He loves taking you from behind, tangling his hands in your hair while you’re left to his mercy.

He noses his way past your hair to reach your neck, lightly nipping the skin as you sigh, your head melting to the side so he can continue his ministrations.

“Andrei, please,” You hiss, the wetness between your thighs now too prominent to ignore. You wiggle your hips tantalizingly, hoping to catch his attention.

He grins into your neck, doesn’t respond as he presses a final kiss to your pulse point before pulling back, his right hand sweeping the rest of your hair to the side.

“You need me to touch you?” He asks, smoothing his left hand over your hip before slipping it to the inside of your thighs. His fingers find your clit, rubbing it ever so lightly to feel you flinch with sensitivity underneath him.

You tremble underneath him as he continues stroking you, and your hips jerk upward when two of his fingers slip past your walls and curl. He’s laughing as your ears ring, and already you’re so close to coming when his thumb rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his hand.

Just like everything else about you, though, he knows; he knows and he pulls back before you even have the chance to swear because then the last layer of clothing between you is gone. His boxers are thrown somewhere behind him along with his undershirt, and now he wastes no time pulling your hips up, leaving your chest pressed into the bed.

So used to this familiar position, you look behind you in anticipation to find him stroking his cock, staring at your glistening pussy with barely contained arousal. You’re not sure what he’s waiting for, but then he’s sliding his free hand through your soaked lips to gather the wetness there, using it as lubricant.

“Shit,” He says, swearing more to himself before climbing atop you. It’s routine the way he grabs your hair, tangles it in his fingers while the other guides his swollen cock to your entrance. The bulbous head pushes into you with ease, finding no resistance as he sinks into you.

Andrei hisses, mutters something in Russian, then is lowering his head to press his lips to your ear. “Fuck, you’re tight. You just feel so good all the time, you know that, kisa?”

The only sound capable of coming out your mouth is a whimper as you bury your face into the sheets as his hips begin thrusting, hitting your sweet spot with bullseye accuracy each time.

The girth of him stretches you out deliciously, and it leaves your walls clenching and unclenching rhythmically in time with his movements. You mold to him like your body was made for him, like there’s no other way to exist without him taking you in such primal fashion.

Andrei’s head rests in the crook of your neck, murmuring indiscernible phrases while his hands trail up and down your body. His hips rut against your clit each time he thrusts forward, and if anything you get wetter at the thought of him fucking you so callously.

You feel like his most precious belonging sometimes, like an object. It can be disorienting when he talks to you like you’re a child, but when he fucks you it’s like that preciousness he views you with is amplified.

You flinch upward when his cock curves into you just right, and the way he coos into your ear to bring you back down only verifies that thought. He wants to take care of you, always—even if it demeans you.

Andrei suddenly rolls over onto his back, bringing you with him to where you’re the one on top with your back laying against his chest. He sits up, and now you’re in his lap, thighs spread to the side as he once again begins fucking into you.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream as your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the new angle forcing his cock into deeper lengths inside you, and it hurts but it hurts so good and why were you ever questioning how he treats you, again?

How has only one man ever been able to make you feel this good?

Euphoria floods your veins as his hands find purchase on your body, one taking your left tit and rolling your nipple between his fingers while the other sneaks down to the junction of your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing over it mercilessly.

When your stomach starts clenching and your lower spine tingles, Andrei is right back at your ear whispering encouragement. “That’s it, angel,” He praises. “That’s it. You want to come, yeah? Do it. I’ve got you.”

His name leaves your mouth as a breathless whine, and you struggle not to flinch away from his touch when it becomes too much but also not enough, and somehow he knows this and just holds you tighter.

When his cock hits you so deliciously good while his thumb swipes over your clit, you fall. You fall hard, the walls of your cunt seizing around him as ecstasy takes over your body. Sparks fly across your skin, stars filling the empty blackness behind your closed eyes and you think you’re sobbing Andrei’s name but you can’t be sure. The only thing you can be sure of is him; his cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his teeth on your neck as he approaches his high.

Yours lasts for longer than normal because he doesn’t stop moving—if anything, he goes faster, because the sight and feeling of sending you into a spiral only triggers his own release.

By now you’re motionless, unable to even lift your head as it remains lying against his shoulder. Andrei’s thrusts are frenzied, more sloppy and less precise, until he’s throwing his own back with a long, pleasure-filled groan.

Eventually, he stills. His chest is rising and falling behind you rapidly, attempting to collect himself now that his mind is back in the present. You sigh, quietly yet happy, as his cock softens inside you but doesn’t move, his release slowly trickling down your conjoined bodies.

You suddenly remember that he didn’t lose a condom, but then you remind yourself that you’d stopped using condoms weeks before. You were already on birth control, and he assured you this was exclusive.

You were a fool to believe him.

Andrei soon moves, his hands taking to your hips as he gently lifts you off of him. “I know,” He says when you hiss with sensitivity. “I’ve got you, good girl…” He lays you on your back, and you don’t move from your position even as he leaves the room.

Your eyes soon flutter shut, and you curl to the side as the minutes go by with no sign of return. It’s not regret that fills your mind, no, but another emotion, something stronger than just satisfaction at getting such a pleasurable release.

You don’t dare to think of the world ‘love’, but maybe something similar to that is what you’re feeling?

It doesn’t help that just as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, Andrei comes back to your naked form while he’s now adorned in sweatpants. You merely hum as he sits on the edge of his bed next to you, one of his hands reaching out to trail up your arm. When he reaches your face he brushes away the hair stuck to your cheeks and forehead from cooling sweat, letting your skin breathe.

He says something, so quiet it’s impossible to hear over the sound of your thundering heart, and you don’t have the energy to ask as you finally succumb to exhaustion.

Andrei cleans you up after, dries the inside of your legs and slides one of his t-shirts over you. He tucks you under his sheets and pulls you into his arms, letting your hair tickle his cheeks.

The Eastern Conference Final arrives far quicker than any of you are prepared for, and games one and two against the Florida Panthers are full of anxious nail-biting and frustrated cursing when the puck hits the goal post.

Both games end in overtime losses, and the team has to play games three and four in enemy territory, down by two.

Andrei, understandably, isn’t taking it well. It's hard for the players on the ice, of course, but even harder when he has to sit at the sidelines, hidden in a booth at the top of the arena with you doing your best to comfort him.

“Why can’t they just fucking score?” You remember him hissing before the end of regulation in game two, not angry at his teammates but at the situation instead.

And himself, too, because he is the injured one. He is the one who tore his ACL making it so that he couldn’t play. It isn’t his fault, but it is at the same time and that’s what’s truly getting to him.

As the timer hit zero, he’d leaned back in his chair and grabbed your hand without thought, squeezing your fingers to the point of strangulation.

You let him, though, because at that point you’d let him do anything.

“I’m sorry.” You said, your eyes on him the entire time. It pained you to see him so miserable, and there was nothing you could do to make it better. “This isn’t your fault. It’s… Blame Bobrovsky, okay? He’s just too—”

You interrupted yourself, not wanting to say ‘good’ even if that’s true because you didn’t want to upset him with the implication that his teammates couldn’t be better.

Andrei, to give him credit, didn’t take offense. His eyes were on you the moment you started your ramble, and as you finally paused to gauge the look on his face you found amusement and unbridled affection in his gaze.

“Too good?” He finished your sentence, waiting for your meek nod of confirmation. Merely sighing, he only brought your intertwined fingers to his lips, pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. “You’re right, kisa. He is too good.”

You stay back in Raleigh while the team, including Andrei, takes flight to Sunrise, Florida. Most of the WAG’s stay back too, the majority already anticipating the result of this series.

Hours after the team’s flight, Maria calls you late on the eve of game three.

“Hey, Mare!” You answer, lowering the volume of whatever show is on the television to better hear her. “What’s up?”

“Hey, girl!” She chirps, and you can hear voices in the background so you assume she’s somewhere busy. “Just landed in Florida!”

“You flew to Florida?” You ask, choking slightly. “Since when?”

“Don’t you remember? I told you! The team needed extra people since we’re staying here for longer than a night.”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Is all you say because you don’t, in fact, remember, and suddenly feel really guilty about it. You haven’t actually spoken to Maria face-to-face in weeks, having been caught up in everything Andrei-related.

You haven’t talked to lots of people you were close to before Andrei came into the picture, now that you think about it. It’s a problem you’re sure to reflect on when you’re done talking to your friend.

“...bunch of us are going out tonight since the game isn’t until later tomorrow night, including a lot of the team.”

Maria’s voice tunes back in, and you shake yourself out of your thoughts to catch-up. “Really?” You inquire, now suddenly interested. “Is Andrei going with them?”

You could ask him yourself, sure, but you don’t really talk about that stuff, what he does or what you do in your free time. It always felt invasive to ask because you weren’t quite sure if you even had the right to, considering the nature of your relationship.

You doubt he thinks about what you do when you’re not with him, anyway, so you always just assume you can live in the moment with him and have that be good enough.

“Dunno,” She replies. “Can’t you ask him yourself? You’re seeing the man, after all.” You can hear the smirk in her voice at the last sentence.

“Um,” You stall, because no, you can’t just ask. “He just got off the plane, I don’t want to bother him.”

“Mhm,” Maria hums, and you can’t tell if she’s suspicious or not by her tone alone. “True. I’ll just text you if anything interesting happens, okay? Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” You can’t help but laugh at her sudden hastiness, and soon enough she’s hanging up the phone with the claim that the team bus is there to take her to the hotel.

As your call with Maria is in the early afternoon, you have a while to wait before all night life in Florida begins, so any updates will take time to roll in. You know this, and yet you can’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

Distracting yourself by shopping helps, as does meeting up with a few of the WAG’s for a late lunch. You’re able to put your anxiety in the back of your mind for the rest of the day, and as the sun sets you pull back up to Andrei’s house and let yourself in with the spare key given to you, mind at peace as you float around his living space in preparation for bed.

You almost considered his place your home now, rather than your actual apartment. You’ve been spending so much time here, with him and also alone as everything with him seems to be going so good… When you settle into his bed, wearing one of Andrei’s large t-shirts and boxers, you check your phone one last time for any updates.

There’s a few Instagram notifications, one or two emails from your university, only one message in the groupchat with the WAG’s, and a text from Andrei which is what you zero in on first.

Settled in the hotel now. Leg is hurting, so I’m going to bed early tonight. Text you tomorrow, okay?

There’s no silly emojis, no indication of any emotion in his text, and yet you read the message with a smile, insecurities officially gone. His teammates are going out tonight, not him, and you don’t have to worry about Maria texting you later because there would be nothing to update you on.

How could you have ever doubted him?

You fall asleep peacefully, unbeknownst to the fact that long after midnight, your phone begins blowing up with silent notifications from Maria. She does, in fact, send you updates of her night out, but not updates you’ll smile at when you wake up the next day.

Sunlight filtered through closed eyes is what has you slowly awakening to the world of consciousness, and you stretch your arms with a yawn before reaching for your phone first thing. It’s hot to the touch, and at first you attribute that to it being stuck under your pillow the entire night, but upon unlocking the screen you discover that that is not the case.

WTF did you and Andrei break up?????

He’s here with the rest of the guys and he’s highkey flirting with some randos???

I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were done w/ him!

You’re prettier than them btw. I snuck a few pics

Several more messages from Maria have taken over your inbox, those are just the first you see. It takes your brain a minute to catch-up, but when it finally does you’re sitting up with bated breath as you tap on one of the images she sent.

It’s definitely Andrei—you’d know his face anywhere. He is, in fact, surrounded by girls in the picture, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous blonde with a drink in his other hand, and it’s so reminiscent of the way he holds you at clubs that you know, you know immediately that this is what you meant to him all along.

The affectionate name-calling, gentle hand-holding and constant touching… You thought he looked back at you like you hung the moon, but now you’re realizing that maybe you were just projecting the reflection of your own starstruck eyes instead.

You sit up in bed, hand pressed to your forehead as a sudden headache rips through your brain. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? Remembering that you’re actually in this man’s house, in his clothes, too, has you jumping up like you’ve been burned, and you quickly exit the bedroom to collapse on the couch instead.

“Oh my god,” You whisper to yourself, in disbelief as you click through more of the images sent to you from last night. There’s no denying to yourself that he was with these women, all while supposedly having a significant other waiting for him at home.

There’s no one to witness the slow breakdown of your sanity, and you can’t even cry because you’re so in shock about what you’re seeing

Is this real? Are you real? Is this really happening?

It’s almost like a switch in your brain goes off, and very quickly you drop your phone. You take a deep breath, you bury your raging emotions, and you stand up from the couch to start your day.

You refuse to allow yourself to break down now. Not when you still haven’t spoken to him. At the very least you’ll wait until you have an explanation…

To confront him on your very strong feelings you’ve been doing your best to ignore until now, because they’re too real in the wake of this discovery to just vanish away like you’ve done before.

You need to know where you stand with him. Truly, because these pictures you can’t stop thinking about? It’s too much. You can’t pretend it doesn’t feel like thousands of little knives stabbing your heart repeatedly even if it all means nothing to him.

Everything goes back to normal. Everything is fine. You never saw those pictures, ignored Maria's continuing calls and acted as if your world wasn’t suddenly tilted on its axis.

Andrei doesn’t text you at all throughout the day, which can probably be attributed to preparation of game three, but all you can think about are the girls he might be texting.

Because he certainly isn’t texting you.

Game three results in a loss, a bad one, and it would pain you to see the reactions on their faces filtered through the television if you weren’t so numb.

He still doesn’t text you. Doesn’t call, either, and Maria eventually gives up on trying to reach you as game four approaches.

The impending doom of Andrei bares down on you like a vice, slowly strangling you in the screaming silence of his house you still remain in. Maybe this is something you should have seen coming because it isn’t the first time he’s gone radio silent, you just assumed he was busy—because that’s what he told you.

You’re starting to think that maybe you shouldn’t have listened.

You love him though, right? That’s why you believed him? That’s what you’re feeling right now, why it’s like you can barely breathe when you think of his smile or the way he’s betrayed you so?

The Panthers sweep the Hurricanes, a complete four-game victory that sends Andrei and the rest of the team licking their wounds all the way back to North Carolina. You don’t watch the fourth game with anyone but yourself and a bottle of wine while catching up on homework for one of your classes.

Becoming so close to Andrei meant you became close to the rest of his teammates too, to the point where you’d consider some of them your good friends, so seeing their faces broadcasted live after the final goal is devastating to see.

Not as devastating as the text you receive, though, in the midst of trying to figure out what to say to him the moment he steps foot inside his house.

I won’t be home tonight, heading straight out with some of the younger guys. I will see you tomorrow

Well. You can’t say you’re surprised. You’re willing to bet money he’s out sleeping with some random girl whose name he won’t remember the next day. Instead of letting the anxiety take over, anger takes its place instead.

And boy do you run with it because anger is so much better than feeling powerless. It simmers in your blood, a wildfire settling low in your stomach until you’re practically shaking while waiting for Andrei to walk through the front door the next day.

When he finally does, you’re so mad you’re numb. Your anger has turned you into a ghost, an attempt at protecting your fragile heart from more heartbreak likely to fall upon you the moment he tries to charm you back into his good graces.

Once he spots you sitting on the couch, he smiles in greeting. It’s soft, and you’d like to say affectionate, but you no longer can tell how deep his feelings run for you.

Clearly, not deep enough.

“Kisa,” He says. “How are you? I’m sorry I was out late.”

“It’s fine,” You respond tightly. Andrei doesn’t seem to notice, merely nods before walking past you to the kitchen. You follow him silently, trying to figure out how to phrase your next words.

You end up settling on a subtle approach. “I’m sorry about the games… I know it must’ve sucked having to watch.”

He scoffs immediately, mutters something you don’t catch but still doesn’t turn around to face you as he rummages through his fridge. “It definitely was not fun to sit there, no.” He replies.

“Is that why you didn’t come back last night? You were coping with the loss?” You’re hoping your strong reference to his late-night escapades will spark something in him, but alas you still seem to be wrong and all he does is cast you a furtive glance before going back to his business.

God, you were just going to have to wring this out of him, weren’t you?

“Andrei,” You start, taking a deep breath. He still doesn’t stir. “Andrei, I know.”

Finally, he stops. Pauses mid-motion of whatever he’s doing, and his shoulders seem to tense in preparation of your foreboding words.

“There’s other girls, right? It’s not just me?” Your voice is already wobbling, and you’re glad he’s still refusing to face you because your eyes are slowly filling with tears, the agony of these last few days catching up to you.

This is when Andrei finally turns around. He meets your eyes last after scanning up and down your body; the clothes you’re wearing that aren’t his, your nails digging into your hands, and finally the bright flush of your face as you struggle not to explode.

“What do you mean?” Is what he says, looking at you calculatingly.

“Don’t play dumb with me, ‘Drei,” You whisper, invisible wires constricting around your throat as you force yourself to continue speaking. “Maria told me. She saw you. And you lied to me.”

Andrei doesn’t speak. He just stares, fingers clenching and unclenching like he can’t decide if he should approach you or not. After what seems like hours of silent battle, he replies, starting out by saying your name like a warning. “She… Maria had no right to tell you that.”

“Because I’m not actually your girlfriend, right?” Your response is immediate, and it hurts him if the flinch on his face is anything to go by. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a title, responsibility. You never promised me any of that so sleeping with other girls is perfectly okay.”

Everything you’re saying is true but it’s all wrong the way you’re looking at each other. Tears are now openly streaming down your cheeks and Andrei hasn’t moved since the moment you opened your mouth.

“Nothing to say?” It’s defeated, your entire demeanor as your shoulders sag and you fight the urge to collapse. “Yeah. I—I wouldn’t know what to say either.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrei whispers, and he doesn’t fight you which makes it all the more devastating. Everything you’re saying is true and it’s still all so wrong but he isn’t fighting you and wow, you’re really about to lose him, aren’t you?

“I think the worst part of this for me is that I actually let myself fall in love with you.” It’s your last-ditch effort of getting something out of him, anything that proves this isn’t completely one-sided on your end.

Andrei looks gutted at that. But he steels his resolve, his eyes go cold and he clenches his jaw as you try, one last time, to reach him.

“Do you love me?”

He’s staring at the wall behind you. No words fall from the lips you’ve kissed a thousand times until they finally do, and this is when you come to the realization that you’re ruined. You won’t ever look at another man the same because Andrei will forever haunt you in everything that you are and what you do.

“No. I don’t.”

You don’t put up much of a fight after that. You wave your white flag and slip past him to grab the small bag you’d packed earlier in preparation.

Andrei doesn’t move from his spot in the kitchen once. His face is tight, eyes dark and anguished as you drop his spare key on the counter. You look at him one last time, will him to say something, anything, but he doesn’t.

He never does—so you leave and you don’t look back.

It hurts worse because there really wasn’t a fight. There was no screaming, breaking glass, hurling insults at each other; it was a quiet acceptance of the end of a relationship that had no chance of lasting.

That’s what gets you. Not just because it’s over, but because he doesn’t love you like you love him.

You can’t believe you let yourself fall for it.

When you finally make it back to your apartment it feels like walking into an alternate reality, especially after an agonizing drive back full of nothing but silence and your thoughts.

You’ve practically lived with Andrei the last few months so much that you’ve forgotten you had a life before him. Maria comes to your mind immediately at that thought, and you can’t think of anything else you need more right now than your best friend.

Her phone only rings twice before she picks up. She says your name warily, likely because she hasn’t heard a word from you in two days.

“Hey,” You whimper, and you hate that you can tell how broken you sound. “Um, you were right. About Andrei. I… Talked to him about it. We’re done.”

There’s silence on the other end for several moments. Then:

“Oh, babe, I’m so sorry. I’m coming over, and I’m bringing the fattest bottle of wine known to man, okay?”

You can’t help but laugh through your tears.

“Don’t respond, you can’t say no. I’ll see you in a few!”

And, well, you do nothing but let her hang up as you stare at your blank lock screen for a minute. Something possesses you to try and freshen up even though it’s just Maria, so you make your way to your bathroom.

Opening the door, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror, your tear-stained eyes the same color red as the lipstick you wore the first time you met him. The same red of your heart, too, as you feel the shattering of it now more than ever.

It all goes back to him. Everything about you, your identity as ‘his girl’ reducing you to someone who doesn’t exist without him.

Fuck you, Andrei, you want to yell. Fuck you and fuck everything you put me through.

As you furiously rub your eyes, you realize you don’t know who you are anymore. You let yourself be molded into an unfamiliar version of yourself, into someone just for Andrei to want to keep around.

The tears start again, and you’re left sniffling in the suffocating silence of your bathroom. The only person who knew you, the you now, is gone.

And suddenly, you find yourself alone.

Well… Not totally alone. “Fuck him!” Maria shouts after she breaks into your apartment (she has your spare key) after you’d collapsed onto your couch and refused to open the door. “Seriously, fuck him. You’re way too good for him.”

“Weren’t you the one who convinced me to sleep with him in the first place?” Is your weak rebuttal, muffled and almost imperceptible as your head is burrowed in a pillow.

Your friend tsks, likely waving her arms around in that expressive way she does. “Yes, well. I never claimed to see the future. But now we know him for the piece of shit he is!”

Maria is your closest friend, yes, but you also know her to be someone who tells you what you want to hear. Right now, you’re feeling vengeful and angry, so she’s feeding into those emotions to make you feel better.

You know, in two months time or however long it takes you to process this, when you start missing him and tiptoe around the idea of calling him, she’ll support you then, too.

Which probably isn’t what you need, but, whatever. You’re just grateful you have someone on your side.

“I need…” You start, not quite sure how to phrase what you’re wanting. “I need to forget.”

“A one nightstand type of forget or get so drunk you pass out type of forget?”

You wrinkle your nose at the thought of sleeping with someone so soon. As much as you hate it, you don’t think you’ll ever stop craving Andrei’s body.

No man ever could make you feel that good…

“Get drunk,” You say, quirking a small smile at the whoop she lets out. “I can’t fuck someone right now. At least not yet.”

“Yeah,” The blonde agrees, sighing almost wistfully. “I’d feel the same if I knew what his dick felt like.”

“Maria!” You shriek, throwing a spare pillow as hard as you can her way. It misses, but does the job of lightening the mood and keeps you giggling the rest of the night.

She does her job in making you forget, though. Makes you put on one of your shortest dresses and gets you drink after drink until you’re hunched over a toilet in the back of some bar gagging your stomach out.

You wake up the next day with the worst hangover ever, but Maria is fairing the same and somehow you consider it worth it. Maybe you can live your life again without him.

You’ve done it before, right?

And really, it’s ridiculous when you let yourself think about how you’d only been seeing the man for five months and he completely managed to send your world careening in that timespan. So, you don’t let yourself think about it. Instead, you live.

For yourself, for your friends, for your heart that won’t ever be full but feels a little bit better every time you wake up each day without Andrei next to you.

You graduate university with your bachelor’s and get a job that’s even better than your last, and you make a really good group of friends at said-job without Maria’s help (though she’ll always be your best). The summer passes by with melancholy laughter and gentle healing, and while your first love always remains in the back of your mind, you think about him less.

So much less that you lose track of time, not even realizing that October of twenty twenty-three is here and the NHL season is starting back up. You haven’t spoken to any of the WAG’s since you broke it off with Andrei, assuming you would no longer be welcome in the ‘clique’ and preferring to separate yourself from a group associated with someone who brought you so much pain, so there haven’t been any reminders about the new season from them.

The memories of him are fleeting. They’ll come to you at random times, and now that you’ve lived in the past yet again, you can forget about the end where Andrei is a distant thought but every time his name is brought up it squeezes your heart so much you can’t breathe.

You’re doing better. Truly, you are. You’d stopped crying over him long ago, and you might have gone to class with swollen eyes and showed up to work despondent, but you’re working through it in your own way. Healing isn’t linear but you’re making progress slowly but surely.

One day, you wake up with a sudden determination to officially ‘get back out there’, per Maria’s words. There’s nothing spectacular about this day; it’s only mid-November, the weather in that awkward stage of autumn morphing into winter.

Maybe it’s because the night before you’d succumbed to the urge to search up the Hurricanes’ schedule, curious to when they’d be home and not.

It’s only a coincidence that they have a home game when you call your friends from work, asking if they’d like to go out after everyone gets off. It’s also a coincidence when you meet someone at said-bar you attend, and it’s absolutely insane how if you squint he kind of looks like Andrei.

Oh, but he’s so, so sweet… His name is Jack and he buys you and your friends drinks, keeps a respectful distance yet never strays far when you’re wrapped into another conversation. He asks for your number at the end of the night and you give it to him without hesitation, taking note of the way he creates your contact in his phone himself.

“You like cats?” He asks as he’s still typing away, and your breath catches in your throat because it’s a question that makes you think of the first night you met him. When you don’t respond, he gestures towards your keychain attached to the strap of your handbag.

“You have little kittens on your keychain. I think that’s what I’ll add to your name, yeah?” Jack laughs a little shyly, and it’s cute but you keep replaying kisa in your mind over and over in a Russian accent you never could quite imitate.

“Yeah, I do like cats,” You say, flushing at the sudden amusement in his eyes. “I like them a lot.”

Jack doesn’t waste any time texting you the next day, and the normalcy of it freaks you out a little. Where’s the anxiety? The stomach-dropping nerves that come with talking to someone new? The constant wondering if they like you or not?

It’s so safe and secure that it hurts, because it was never like that before.

Everyone in your life is so supportive, though, but that only makes it worse because they can see how good this man is for you, but why can’t you? You feel like pulling your hair out when he texts you good morning and goodnight and sick to your stomach when he shows up during your lunch break with flowers.

However, there’s no one is more enthusiastic about Jack's new presence in your life than Maria.

“He’s a dream guy, honestly,” She swoons, kicking her feet back on her ottoman. “You’re so lucky. I would kill for a guy I met at a bar to be so smitten with me he shows up to my job with flowers.”

You hum in agreement, unable to come up with something to say. “He… Yeah, it’s nice, I guess.”

The blonde eyes you from where you’re curled up on her couch, deliberately avoiding her stare as you mindlessly watch whatever is on the TV. “You guess? He’s perfect!”

“On paper,” You retort, huffing slightly in frustration at yourself because why can’t you see what everyone else sees? “I don’t really know him.”

“Yet. You don’t really know him yet.” She helpfully points out. “Why don’t you want to give him a chance?”

“I… I do. I am giving him a chance. Maybe I’m just not feeling it.”

“He’s not Andrei, babe.”

You fight the powerful urge to scoff. I know, you want to scream. I know. That’s the problem.

Jack is too perfect for you. You want the ups and downs, the electrifying chemistry, the undeniable connection you’ve felt with no one else before. You crave the feeling of those past five months, of being with someone who lit you up to your very core.

It’s been almost eight months and you still can’t get him out of your head.

You give Jack a rightful chance, though, like everyone in your life is begging you to. You can’t bring yourself to end it because there really is nothing wrong, it’s a perfect getting-to-know-you stage which checks off all the boxes. It’s just that you don’t want normal because normal is boring.

You want chaos. And Andrei is chaos personified.

Unbeknownst to you, Maria is still very good friends with a lot of the WAG’s and talks about you when they ask. They miss you, it turns out, but your friend never tells you this in fear of sending you into a depressive spiral that tends to happen when they’re brought up. They’re ecstatic to hear that your life seems to be going so well after the breakup, especially after seeing Andrei’s reaction to it all.

This is something Maria doesn’t tell you, either. She’s such a good friend, protecting your heart like that. Andrei did not come out of his house after you ended it the same person; he was a little darker, a little angrier, frustrated in a way that suggested nothing could be done to fix it.

It doesn’t help that he couldn’t take it out by playing hockey, because he wasn’t cleared to play until the end of October, a month into the regular season.

He never admits his sour mood is partly to blame you for. Not that it’s your fault—he’s the one who fucked up, not you.

Never you.

Maria knows all of this and still gives him the cold shoulder for his treatment of you. None of the girls were very happy after finding out while his teammates just gave him awkward pats on the back. It doesn’t stop him from finding out about you, though, and what you’re up to.

The WAG’s talk. They’re gossip machines, and while normally he hates them for it because he always has to watch what he says around them, this time he’s thankful because they tell their husbands and boyfriends everything.

He’s at Martin and his girlfriend, Nykki’s, apartment watching their cavapoo, Gigi, when he finds out you’re seeing someone new. They’re heatedly talking about something when they walk in and don’t see him on the floor cuddling Gigi, so he doesn’t interrupt.

“I mean, I’m not surprised, but wow. It certainly took her a while to move on, didn’t it?”

He hears a smack, assumes Nykki has hit him on the arm like she typically does when he pisses her off. “She loved him, of course it took time!”

“Ow!” He hisses, though it’s clearly in jest. “Well, yeah, but like… It’s been months. And it’s not like she’s in contact with any of us anymore to remind her of him.” Andrei notes the sourness in his teammate’s voice, feels his heart drop because he thinks he knows who they’re talking about, now.

“Still,” Nykki replies. “I was so sad after my first heartbreak. They take a while to heal from, especially when it’s not a clean ending. It’s no secret how Andrei treated her.” She’s frowning when she continues. “I wish I could give her a hug, but I get it. I wouldn’t want to see any of us, either.”

Martin sighs. “I get it, too. I sure do miss the wine she’d bring though. She had the best fucking taste, ever.”

“Of course you only miss her for her alcohol.”

Andrei decides to clear his throat at this moment. When he does so, Martin and Nykki whip their heads towards him on the floor, surprise and guilt decorating their faces when they see him holding Gigi rather dejectedly.

He starts by saying your name, even surprises himself when it comes out biting and, dare he say it… Jealous? “She’s seeing someone?”

Martin and Nykki share a glance. Gigi chooses this as the time to leap up from his lap and run towards her parents where Martin happily picks her up. “I’m going to go take her out. Thanks for watching, ‘Drei!” He quickly flees the apartment, and Nykki says something under her breath as she glares after him.

They both know Andrei isn’t letting this go.

“Do you remember Maria, her friend? Works in the Hurricanes’ marketing department?” She eventually says, joining him on the floor.

“The blonde one? Yes,” He replies, and even though there are many blondes working for the team he knows exactly who she’s talking about. She’s your best friend, after all, and he knows everything about you.

Like how he knows you will never get over him. Conceited? Yes, but he had (has) you wrapped around his finger.

“Well, she talks to a lot of us still, despite everything that happened. And she tells us things.” Nykki pauses, almost like she’s scared to go on.

“Things like?” Andrei inquires. “How she is doing? Who she is doing?”

She glares at him then, eyes narrowing into slits. “Not that you really have a right to know, but yes.”

His fingers dig into his palms and his jaw cramps with how much he’s trying to keep from exploding.

“So, she’s seeing some guy now?” He scoffs like the very idea is incredulous. As if whatever pathetic excuse of a man you’re talking to could ever compare to him.

“She has a right to move on, Andrei. You should too. You ruined her.”

That fact remains true, but he still has no desire to ever let you go as he deliberately ignores her advice, well-meaning as it is.

How ruined could you really be if you’re already with somebody else?

Unfortunately, it’s impossible to run into you because you avoid him like the plague. You know everywhere he and his teammates frequent so you stopped showing up long ago, and he’s pretty sure you keep a several hundred-foot radius between you and PNC Arena at all times. He doesn’t blame you, but it pisses him off to know he can’t easily find you.

Christmas passes, you spend it with Jack and Andrei spends it with his Russian teammates. The New Year arrives just as quickly, and as he locks lips with some random girl at the party he’s at he thinks of you. Wonders who you’re with, if you’re kissing that guy Nykki told him about.

You actually flew back home to spend it with your parents, giving Jack some weak excuse about how you weren’t able to see them over the holidays.

North Carolina winter is in full force as February of twenty twenty-four rolls around, and your life remains inexplicably boring while Andrei’s picks up. The Hurricanes are finally having a redemption arc after their awful first-half of the season, and thus are heading out to celebrate far more often than normal.

They’re more daring in where they choose to go, too, wanting to branch out of their norms, because why not?

This is really unfortunate for you. Horrifying, actually, because you’re out with your friends, Jack, and his friends too when the team comes strolling in. Eyes instantly shoot their way, aweing at the miniature celebrities in their own right for finally bringing a good professional sports team to NC.

The moment Andrei steps foot in the establishment you know. Your skin catches fire, your ears ring, and your heart thunders inside your chest because only man can set off your senses so powerfully.

You look away from Jack - who thankfully doesn’t notice, he’s sucked into a conversation with one of his friends - and find Andrei approaching the bar with Martin and Seth. He hasn’t noticed you yet and you try to keep that from happening as you sink down into your seat, flashing your friends an exaggerated smile when they eye you curiously.

You’re unable to hide for long, though, when a song bursts from the speakers and sends everyone into an excited frenzy, your group included as they crowd the dance.

Luckily you’re able to escape that particular rally and wave Jack off when he asks you if you’re okay. “I’m fine,” You shout over the bass rattling your eardrums. “Just letting my drink settle a bit.”

He doesn’t question you, merely nods and smiles before disappearing somewhere with his friends. Now, you’re alone, and you can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing because now you have a perfect view of Andrei and his teammates leaning against the bar, looking far too good as they do so.

You can’t keep your eyes off him. You never could, especially can’t now as you soak up every little change your eyes can see. He has a scruff now, a sexy five o’clock shadow that you know firsthand how it feels between your thighs. His hair is a little longer, too—you wonder if it’s still as soft as you remember.

Jack suddenly appears from a break in the crowd and oh, yeah, fuck you can’t be thinking about your ex like this, can you? No, you aren’t officially with Jack, but it’s still wrong. He likes you so much, you know this, and you… Don’t hate him?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, you bemoan to yourself, torn between the angel on your left and the devil on your right that don’t give you the chance to decide because you feel eyes baring into your skull, begging you to notice them. Your entire being freezes, stuck in between some weird limbo as you lock eyes with Andrei for the first time in months.

There’s no one else but you and him as neither one of you refuses to break first, and you only lose eye contact when a group of people walks between you. When they’re gone and you’re able to freely look again, you realize he’s gone from his spot at the bar. All his teammates are still there, and they’ve now spotted you too.

Would it be wrong to call an uber and just tell Jack you felt sick?

Your name is suddenly being whispered into your ear, and you would have flinched if the sound of his voice didn’t have you relaxing back into your seat. You refuse to look up at first, because if you look at him so close to you again you’ll fold.

“Andrei,” You greet, quietly. “How are you?” You still aren’t looking at him, choosing to swirl around the drink in your hand instead.

“I’m good,” He replies, so close you can feel the heat of his body seeping into your skin. You lean into it almost subconsciously until he’s sliding into the booth next to you, pressing the two of you together. “How are you, my kisa?”

“You don’t get to call me that anymore.” You retort, finally meeting his eyes to cast him a withering glare.

“No?” Andrei reaches a hand up to brush some stray hairs from your face. So delicate his touch, he trails his hand down your cheek, your neck, and down your waist until landing on your thigh. You don’t stop him, either.

“That’s funny. I could have sworn that you’re mine.”

“I’m not,” You squirm under his touch, unable to push him away. “I haven’t been in months. Wasn’t ever ‘yours’ to begin with. You made sure of that.”

Andrei doesn’t appreciate the call out. The way his face twists is mean and you know whatever he’s going to say will hurt. “Right,” He scoffs, is snide with the way he tones it. “But you’re his?”

He gestures towards Jack, who thankfully is enraptured in a tense game of pool on the other side of the room. You don’t question how he already knows that’s who you’re with.

“I’m not anyone’s, Andrei.”

“Yes you are. You might have thought that because we haven’t seen each other we are just over?” He leans into you, doesn’t let you break eye contact as he gets so close your noses touch. “No. I bet me being so close to you right now has you soaked, and you want to know how I know that?”

Your throat is tight as you swallow. You can’t look away as you move to shake your head, but strange, because it comes out as a nod instead.

“You’re not ‘over me’, malyshka. You’ll never be over me. You love me.”

His grin is feral, his words biting as they cut through you at such a vulnerable level it has you flinching back from his touch immediately.

“Oh, fuck you, Andrei,” You hiss, an angry sheen of tears starting to gloss over your eyes. “Fuck you. I don’t love you anymore—especially not now.”

You move to slip around him but his arm shoots out and stops you in your tracks, leaving you frozen as he stands to tower over you.

“Careful,” He murmurs. “Your boy over there might think something’s wrong. Maybe I should introduce myself, make sure he knows I would never dare hurt you.”

“You don’t have to touch me to hurt me. You did that plenty without having to lift a finger.” You retort. “Now, get out of my way. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“But what if I want to talk to you?” You really hate the height difference between the two of you right now because it takes no effort at all for him to slide a muscular arm around your waist and keep you glued to his side. “Maybe I have missed you.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” You mutter, but he ignores you as he begins to lead you away from the booth you were in before. “My friends will wonder where I am if I’m not at the booth when they get back.”

“Not worried about your boy?” He mocks, noting the way you don’t mention Jack at all. “They won’t have enough time to notice.”

You narrow your eyes at his insinuating words as he stops at the bar, waving down the bartender who comes immediately. “His name is Jack.” You mutter, thinking he can’t hear you. He continues talking, ignoring you, and you’re unable to hear him over the noise so you don’t bother trying to understand what he’s asking for.

Soon enough there’s a drink sliding across the bar counter and Andrei pushes it in front of you. You eye the glass, making note of the fact that the liquid is red. “Vodka cranberry,” He confirms what you’re already thinking.

You flash back to the night you first met and suddenly you want nothing to do with the drink in front of you. “No thanks, I don’t want it.” You say, trying to step away.

You don’t get far, though, because he’s grabbing your wrist and tugging you rather harshly back to him. “Drink it,” He demands, watches your eyes and the way they dart from his face and back to the glass nervously. He sighs, then, like he’s realized something and lets go of your wrist only to land back on your hip. “It’s… Nothing is wrong with it. I didn’t touch it.”

He thinks you’re worried about being drugged? You almost laugh but manage to hold it back, because of course he doesn’t remember that this is the first drink he ever got you.

Your heart beats a little faster as you concede, finally picking up the drink and taking a tiny sip. He waits for your reaction like he’s the one who made it. “It’s good,” You finally say, licking the sweetness from your lips.

Andrei watches you, your eyes, your lips, everything about as time seems to stop and it’s just you and him, like it’s supposed to be.

You haven’t changed all that much, and you can tell he likes that. Your hair is a little shorter, you’re perhaps a little thinner now that you’re not on a college student diet, but you’re still you.

Andrei hasn’t changed either. You’re the same yet so different, and it’s incredibly difficult resisting the temptation to fall back into old habits.

“I’ve missed you,” He admits quietly, and you think it’s sincere this time. You wouldn’t have heard if you weren’t standing so close together.

Your heart thunders in your chest. You might be sweating out of nerves, or maybe it’s just the club. Your hands itch to touch him, and with more alcohol in you thanks to the cranberry you don’t stop Andrei as he succumbs to his urges first and uses one, large hand to cup your cheek.

You shudder as he caresses the skin, his thumb landing on your bottom lip and stroking it lightly. “Andrei,” You breathe, pupils blown wide. “You can’t—we can’t…”

He tilts his head, reminiscent of a dog. “Why not? You are not single?” He has you. He knows you know he does. You aren’t nearly as committed to Jack as much as you’d like yourself to be.

“I can’t do that to him,” You try weakly, already feeling your will bending to the persuasiveness of his touch.

His head lowers, hand remaining on your cheek as he brushes your lips together. You crave it, you realize, and move to fully push your mouths together but he’s pulling back before you get the chance.

“Go to the bathroom.” He says. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Will you?” You ask, the double-meaning clear as you stare at each other, neither willing to break.

Andrei’s face is unreadable. You can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing as his hands land on your hips and he turns you around in the direction of the restrooms. “Go,” He taps your ass, nudging you forward. “I’ll be there.”

You give in this time. You’re aware of the astronomically bad decision you’re making as you cut the line, faking a sick stomach and whispering ‘sorry’ over and over again in your head as the nice ladies let you through.

When you close the door you immediately make your way to the mirror. Your reflection stares back at you, and with mussed hair and smudged lipstick you should be feeling ashamed.

All you feel is anticipation, though. For Andrei’s hands on your body, for his mouth to kiss all the spots he’s missed.

Several minutes go by and the knocks on the bathroom door become more frequent. You think he’s bailed on you - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time - but then you hear his voice outside.

“Da, yes, she’s in there,” A pause. “She’s my girlfriend, she needs me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, turning to face the door as he knocks and can hear his voice more clearly.

Yes, you do need him.

“Kisa,” He says, slightly muffled but you feel the effect he has on you is all the same. “I’m here. Let me in?” He’s almost begging, and you quickly unlock the door as he pushes through.

His smile is mischievous as he closes the door behind him. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” He purposefully raises his voice, shows faux concern and plays it up in case anyone is listening outside.

“You’re so dramatic,” You say, pulling him down to you by the collar of his shirt. Now that you’re alone you don’t bother pretending you don’t want him as much as you do. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Andrei relents immediately, closing the distance between the two of you. Both his hands come up to the sides of your head to keep you in place, tilting you in whatever way he likes. His lips are just as soft as you remember, and your bodies move together like they were never apart.

He’s demanding as he begins pushing you back, crowding you against the tiny bathroom wall. His words from outside come back to you suddenly, and you break the kiss to catch a breath as his lips begin a trail across your cheeks. “Girlfriend?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I had to get them to let me through somehow.” It’s not what you want to hear but you lose the urge to fight him on it as he reaches your neck and begins sucking little hickeys onto the sensitive skin. Your head falls back with a sigh, uncaring of your hair catching whatever germs might lie on the wall.

You let Andrei do what he wants to your neck for a few moments, then when the urge to taste his lips comes again you grab the back of his hair and pull him up to you. He goes willingly, and you moan into his mouth as he continues to push back against you so hard you can feel his dick through his jeans.

He pulls back much too soon for your taste, and you try to follow but suddenly one of the hands holding your head comes down to wrap around your throat, restricting your breath as he pushes you back. You go to speak, but his other hand is leaving your face to unbutton his jeans one-handed.

You watch, eyes heavy-lidded. “‘Drei?” The weight on your neck is comfortable, so you don’t bother moving as he shoves the rest of his jeans along with his boxers down his thick thighs.

“You want to talk to other guys?” He starts with a bite. “Then you can remember the taste of my cock in your mouth while you do it.”

Your blood pressure skyrockets as the hand on your throat leaves to pull your hair back out of your face, grasps it like a rope, and pushes you down to your knees.

You’re at eye-level with his cock as it bobs in front of you, angry and swollen with beads of pre-cum leaking from the tip. He stares down at you expectantly, has to hold back a groan at your wide-eyed gaze looking so innocent.

As your lips wrap around his tip he’s reminded of the fact that no, you are not innocent. He made you that way. Fucked you like no man ever could. Ruined you for everyone but him. His feelings for you are complicated, but he does understand one thing…

Andrei doesn’t want you, not really. But he hates to think about you with somebody else.

Your tongue is masterful in its work as it swirls around his head, and once you get comfortable you begin going down. His head falls back and this time he doesn’t hold back his noises as your warm, wet mouth envelopes him.

“Missed this mouth,” He grunts as you suck. “Like it much better when you can’t speak.”

It’s insulting and degrading, yet it doesn’t fail to turn you on as you squirm and rub your thighs together in hopes it’ll give you the friction you need.

His hand in your hair soon starts pulling, sliding your mouth forward and back in increasing motions as he gets closer. He’s unabashedly groaning now, and you can see his abs clench when you suck a certain way.

Suddenly, you have the urge to have him fall apart before you. Maybe it’s revenge, wanting to see him lose control for you like you’ve done for him so many times; you tilt your head, using your tongue to stroke the sensitive underside of his cock and that has him jerking into you.

“Fuck,” He hisses. “Good girl. Just like that.” The praise goes directly to your clit, and you whimper as it throbs with no relief.

Despite being apart for almost a year, you still know what every twitch of his body means. You know he’s close because the hand in your hair is gripping you tighter, you can feel the steadily increasing tempo of his heartbeat through his pulsing cock, and his thighs are ever so slightly trembling underneath your hands.

You want him to come in your mouth. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more; your efforts increase and you dig your nails into his skin to hear him hiss and as his thrusts pick up he starts hitting the back of your throat.

Internally thanking your lacking gag reflex, you don’t flinch as he picks up speed, now blatantly using your mouth for his own pleasure with little regard for your comfort. “Shit, baby,” He blurts, desperate. “I’m gonna cum.” You hum in response, the vibrations of the sound finally throwing him over the edge.

Andrei throws his head back for a final time, one long groan emulating from his unfairly sculpted chest as his cum hits the back of your throat. You’ve always loved the taste of him and this time is no different as you suck him deeper, not wanting to waste a drop.

He takes a few moments to collect himself and in that timeframe your ears slowly stop ringing and you come back to reality, finding that your knees ache from being pressed into the floor and there are loud voices coming from outside the bathroom door.

As you move to stand, he too seems to remember where you’re at and uses both arms to pull you the rest of the way until you’re back to standing. You swipe your hair out of your face as his thumb comes to your lip, wiping away a stray drop of his release.

Despite the post-orgasmic clarity, he looks at you with softness and something else swimming in his dark eyes. “You’re still good at that,” He states. “Been sucking anyone else off?” His words are quiet but every bit threatening as you note the possessiveness in his tone.

“No,” You gasp as his thumb pushes its way into your mouth. “Just you. Only you,”

“That’s right,” He says. “Just me. Only me.” Then he’s spinning you around, fingers remaining pressed into your mouth while the other trails up your spine until he’s gripping the back of your neck. “Hear them outside?” He asks.

The ‘them’ he’s referring to, you realize, are the voices outside the bathroom. They’re much louder now, a few knocks mixed in, and you wonder with slight panic how a manager hasn’t come to unlock the door yet.

“They sound very angry, don’t they?” That same hand on the back of your neck strokes your skin, slowly working its way down to your waistband. “So we better make it quick. Hands on the wall, kisa,”

You know the moment he pulls down your pants he’ll find you to be unabashedly soaking. Despite claiming to be in a hurry, he takes his time working open the button of your jeans, grazing the skin above your panties before ever so slowly sliding them down your legs.

“Andrei,” You hiss, impatient. “Hurry up!” As the hand in your mouth retreats, you realize you’re both needy and nervous, an overwhelming combination.

He only laughs. “Someone is needy,” He mocks, holding your hips in place when you try wiggling against him. “Patience.” Leaning into your ear he murmurs this, staying this way as he fully slides your jeans past your knees.

Andrei sneaks his hand in between your thighs, something resembling a growl rumbling from his chest when his fingers find your dripping folds, feeling how you throb for him. “Missed this pussy even more,” He breathes, lubricating his fingers with your slick before slowly circling your clit. Your arms shake from where they hold you up and it’s a battle to keep yourself from collapsing.

“You are just made for me, aren’t you?”

You’re so wet you practically suck him in as he guides his dick to your entrance, and he wastes no preamble as he pushes in. If he thought your mouth was heaven after so much time apart, the feeling of your pussy squeezing him in so deep doesn’t even compare. His hands are digging into your hips as he ruts into you fully with one thrust, panting as your warmth contracts around him.

“Still so fucking tight,” He marvels like he can’t believe it, like it’s a dream you feel even better than when he replays the memories of you on repeat. “You been waiting for me?” He’s not expecting a response as his rhythm picks up, finding a familiar pace for the both of you that has him swearing under his breath and you struggling not to shout your pleasure to the rooftops.

“God,” You cry out when the head of his cock directly hits your g-spot, your hips jerking up so hard you would have fallen if it weren’t for Andrei holding you up. “Fuck, Andrei, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Andrei laughs, a sound that would have been more menacing if he also wasn’t gasping for air. “Already?” He mocks. “I barely touched you, baby,”

You don’t have to touch me, it’s on the tip of your tongue waiting to be blurted out. You don’t have to touch me for me to be on my knees for you. The words are ready, but instead all that comes out is a moan and maybe that’s for the best because he probably wouldn’t respond as well as he does in your dreams.

He’s unaware of your internal dilemma as he leans over you, pressing his clothed chest to your back. “Gotta be fast,” He reminds you, as if you’d forgotten. “You ready?”

“No, I—I can’t,” Because you don’t want this to be over. You don’t want to cum because he’ll follow you right after and then when clarity hits he’ll leave you again and you’ll be back to square one.

“Yes, you can” He croons. “I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you, I’m right here.” You want to sob as one of his hands leaves your hip and finds the junction of your bodies, gentle fingers prodding your pussy spread-wide around him until he finds your clit and rubs.

Your body is trembling and you can’t tell if you’re trying to move towards him or away, but it doesn’t matter anyways because he has you trapped between the wall and his body and the unrelenting pace of his hips slamming into you.

You have a sudden urge to look him in the eyes before you come undone by his cock and his fingers, so you crane your head to the side and watch him watch you. His hair is damp from sweat at the corners of his hairline, his lips slightly open as he pants and you think you spot him lick his lips when he catches you staring. You go to say something but he swoops down, catching your mouth with his own and promptly shuts you up.

Andrei doesn’t relent in his motions despite the uncomfortable position, not letting you break from his lips by removing his hand at your hip and gripping your face to keep you right here. He owns you, at this point, mind, body, and soul as your lungs beg for breath while your clit throbs beneath his fingers and oh, oh, there it is and you’re gone—

You feel the rough pads of his fingers bullying your clit but you don’t really focus on it until now, how the calloused ridges carelessly sweep over you with no semblance of relief and only when you body abruptly freezes does he part from you, but only slightly, leaving a hair’s width of space between your lips. “Beautiful,” He says, under his breath so quietly you don’t hear him as your bones catch fire and your brain short-circuits.

Heat sears you from the inside-out and you do nothing but endure as Andrei rocks you through it. There’s tears of ecstasy streaming down your face, you’re sure of it now, and you think he’s wiping them from your cheeks but you can’t open your eyes enough to check.

It takes a few minutes, but once your heart stops racing you can hear your favorite voice swearing behind you and only then do you comprehend him still moving inside you, but before you can whine at the sensitivity he’s stilling with a long, drawn-out groan.

You don’t dare speak first, nor are you the first to move. The air around you is stagnant with tension as you rest your head on your arms, breathing deeply to catch your breath. What does this mean? You’re spiraling already and it’s only been minutes since your desperate fuck in this bathroom.

Eventually, Andrei moves first. He slides his softened dick from you with a hiss and you feel his cum trickling out without him there to keep it plugged in. Wrinkling your nose at the feeling of having to walk around with wet inner thighs now, you slowly stand up as his hands fall from your body. You slide your panties and jeans back up the rest of your legs, ignoring the uncomfortable sensitivity of being covered once again.

Neither of you speaks a word. You want to cry suddenly, and this time not from pleasure. “What did we just do?” You manage to choke out, your voice so hoarse you have to clear it. He’s clearly planning on just leaving without a word but you’re not going to let him.

You stare at him expectantly. He’s turned around so all you have in your view is his slide profile, clearly struggling with what to say as his jaw clenches tightly.

“Nothing,” He finally says, and he might as well just fucking stab you in the back. “We did nothing. You’re going to go back out there and pretend nothing happened because it didn’t.”

Oh, he makes you so angry. You can’t believe you’d forgotten that. “You’re serious?” You know he is but you don’t want to believe it.

Andrei meets your glassy eyes and you wish you could read him like he so easily can read you. He looks as conflicted as the day you walked out of his house for the last time, like he has so many words to say but refuses to let them fall from his lips. Just like then, you know this rendezvous means more to him than just a meaningless hookup.

If only he’d admit it…

He exhales a shaky breath as another loud knock disturbs you. “We need to go.” He dodges your question just like he dodges every issue in his life, especially in regards to you. “Come on, kisa.”

“You can’t just call me that, after—after this,” You hiss as he grabs your arm and pulls you towards the door. You panic on the inside as he unlocks it because once you leave this dirty sanctuary you know your problems will only get worse.

Strange, how Andrei manages to make everything worse despite making you feel so good.

As if your emotions don’t matter to him (they really don’t), he flashes you a grin as he drags you behind him, past the angry horde of people who, now that you think about it, definitely know you were fucking. “I know you like it.” Spoken so simply, so plain, you hate that he’s right.

You’ll always like it. Always love him. For as long as you’re hung up over him it will always come back to bite you in the ass and he knows this too.

It’s why, without shame, his arm is curled possessively around your waist as he leads you through the crowd of people. Your friends, Jack, don’t even cross your mind as he does so.

“Go find your friends,” He soon leans down to whisper in your ear. “Then find Jack. Tell him you felt sick and had to use the bathroom.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You snap, purposefully antagonizing him.

Andrei merely raises a brow at you. “You can always stay with me, with my cum dripping down your legs, and explain to everyone how you missed me so much you couldn’t stay away.”

You want to hit him. You almost do, but he continues before you actually go through with it.

“I wonder what Jack would say?” Of course he was listening to you earlier. He ignored you then, of course, but he listened.

And yeah, okay, you get it. Not a good idea to let everyone you know see you with him. He doesn’t want his friends to see him with you, either.

“Trying to get rid of me?” You ask, intending to sound sarcastic but it comes off as more insecure than you wanted it to.

You know he is, but you can’t help but ask for confirmation. Maybe it would help you move on to hear how little he actually cares for you.

“I don’t think I could get rid of you if I tried,” He replies. You can’t tell if he’s serious or not. “You’ll never get rid of me though.”

He’s right, again. You hate so much that he is because you both know you’ll be crawling back the moment he calls.

You want to cry again as his arm leaves your waist, the absence of his heat leaving you shivering.

Andrei looks at you for a long time, just appraising. He tilts his head like he doesn’t know what to think, but then he spots something behind you and starts backing up.

“I will see you again someday, kisa.” He winks at you, and then he’s gone.

Someone behind you taps your shoulder while speaking into your ear, a voice you recognize as one of the girls you came with. You should probably focus, banish Andrei from your mind, but you don’t.

You strain your neck, watching for him through the crowd. He’s back at the bar with his friends, his teammates you once knew.

He’s laughing at something one of them said. Like he wasn’t just with you, fucking you against the bathroom walls.

“Are you okay?” Your friend behind you asks, the one thing from her you do catch.

“Yeah,” You say, swallowing despite the dryness in your throat. Andrei is talking to more people now, girls that have approached him, you notice. “I’m fine.”

He looks gorgeous under the lights. You catch his brilliant smile, the glimmer of his eyes, and those lips you can never get enough of. You soon lose sight of him amidst the throng of people, but his fleeting allure forever lingers...

Like a steadfast reminder, a haunting echo of what can never be.

A/N: Well, that was fun. I hurt my own feelings writing this but it was worth it. I hope you guys enjoyed! Please remember to reblog & comment!!

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[yandere-sins]

A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."

I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!

Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Click

You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days. 

"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.

"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.

"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."

"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice. 

"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle. 

For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.

"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words. 

In a way, he wasn't that different from you.

"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."

He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all. 

"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"

"You could have told me."

"And you would have dealt with her how?"

A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."

You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind. 

"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.

"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."

"Who'd want that, you sicko."

Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.

"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it. 

"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.

"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."

"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."

Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."

"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears. 

Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it. 

You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.

The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.

You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity? 

"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"

You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.

But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world. 

Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.

That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though. 

"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!" 

His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason. 

"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.

"Why you what?"

"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."

Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.

Click

"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."

Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"

He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal. 

"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"

Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."

He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.

"It drives me insane."

His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."

His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.

"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."

You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted. 

But why would you?

The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here. 

"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."

"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."

At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."

"No, I don't like it."

Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."

"Can I go back to my room now?"

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"

Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"

"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."

"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."

"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy. 

"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."

He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."

"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."

#yandere doctor #yandere!doctor #yandere therapist #yandere!therapist #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer]

Haunted

“You remind me of a man I used to know.”  

I was watching the embers in the fire die, and the thought just came, out loud. The Ghoul chewed an unknown meat off the stick he’d skewered it on, not looking up to dignify my statement with even so much as a grunt. Maybe not then, I thought sadly. Maybe all the men like Cooper had died when the bombs dropped. I certainly hadn’t met a man like him since we’d said goodbye to each other at that party. Still, I continued.  

“He was a lot friendlier than you – though I suppose actors are predisposed to high levels of charisma.” I smiled to myself from behind the handkerchief covering my face, thinking of how simple the past now seemed in comparison to the present.  

“Actor?” It was first word I’d heard him speak since he told me to put out the fire that had cooked our dinner and it brought me from my daydream of my old life.  

“Yeah, actor. One of the good ones, most of the time anyway.” I chuckled to myself, remembering the tantrums he used to have on set if something wasn’t entirely accurate.  

“How would you have known an actor?”  

“Well, if you must know, I was-”   

I was cut off by a knife flying past my face and narrowly missing my eye, and then there was a body on top of mine, all flailing limbs and trying to stab me, grabbing a hold of my neck and head to hold me down. I grabbed the pocket knife hidden in my coat and wounded my attacker, before rolling the both of us over and pushing his face into the dying ashes. Their screams echoed out against the darkness of the wasteland, and I heard several gunshots. I took my pistol from my belt and shot whoever had tried to jump me in the back of his skull, letting him fall limply beside me.  

I look up through the dying light to see the Ghoul surveying our surroundings, before looking down at me and I realised with horror I didn’t have the handkerchief covering my face anymore.  

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Rosie Ryder,” he let out an audible laugh, “What are you doin’ out in the Wasteland?”  

My face went bright red, and I huffed.  

“Even after the apocalypse, people still just know me as the girl who played the hooker that got her titties out for Cooper Howard,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I’ve done other movies, you know.”  

“Yeah, you were great in Under the Covers,” he chuckled again, “although for you that film must have mostly been about shooting all that kissin’ you did to the poor bloke. I bet his lips were chapped at the end of every day!”  

“You a fan of Cooper Howard?” I asked, looking him up and down, “this get-up of yours seems pretty inspired by his work.”  

“You could say that, Little Miss Ryder.”  

I laughed bitterly and gestured down at the three bodies around us.  

“We should probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight, in case anyone heard the gunshots.”  

I checked the pockets of the bodies but couldn’t find anything other than a couple of caps and a gun with some ammo still left in it.  

“No chems?” he asked, and I shook my head.  

“No chems.”  

*** 

As we continued in our direction, the Ghoul became more talkative.  

“So, if you were Little Miss Rosie Ryder, you must be at least two hundred and something years old,” he began, “So how are you here right now?” 

I shrugged.  

“It’s a long, long story. We don’t got that much time, Ghoulie.”  

Eventually we came across a shabby-looking shack that looked just about safe enough for the night and might potentially keep us safe from any radstorm that might decide to descend onto us. And maybe from any raiders, too.  

The Ghoul went in first, checking the inside whilst I set a bear trap up in front of the door, before following him inside. It seemed as if someone might have been living here for a bit – there was a sofa and a little table, as well as a small counter with what looked like to be a broken-down hob. No signs of life anymore, though. Everything had a thick layer of dust coating it, and any essentials seem to have been hastily removed when the last occupier had left. 

“The walls seem pretty sturdy and the roof’s secure,” he said, “did you put a bear trap outside the door?”  

“Yeah, don’t wanna take the risk we did earlier.” I sighed. “Still, can’t help but think we’re still sitting ducks if someone breaks in. We’re not exactly in the safest area – I know at least two Raider groups who have bases nearby.” 

“They’ll break in and come face to face with my pistol aimed at their skulls, sweetheart.”  

“Oh, I’m ‘sweetheart’ now, am I? Now that you know what I look like under all these clothes?”  

The Ghoul stepped closer to me, the shadow of his hat towering over me.  

“Maybe I jus’ appreciate those actin’ skills of yours,” he murmured, “on top of that fine figure.” He stepped back from me and sat down on the sofa, slouching.  

“I’ll take first watch, Little Miss Rosie. I’ll wake you in a few hours and when the light comes, we’ll continue, and you can tell me that long, long story of yours.”  

*** 

Susie Wellington was coiffuring my hair for my first scene, as I sat tugging on my cotton skirt trying to psyche myself up for the scene ahead. We’d rehearsed it a bunch of times in table reads but this was the real thing – closed set and all.  

“Susie, I think the leading lady’s hair’s done up enough for now,” came a voice from the corner, “and you should be making your way back to the dressing rooms. I’m sure Little Miss Rosie Ryder here doesn’t want another cast member staring at her tits.”  

I looked up in relief as Cooper appeared beside us, cigarette in hand. Susie didn’t look to happy about having to leave her creation as it was, but only pursed her lips and bid me goodbye.  

“You excited for your first scene, Little Miss Rosie?” he asked, and I felt a strange sense of deja vu come over me at his words. I ignored it and put a shaky smile on my face.  

“I’m excited to get the nudity outta the way, that’s all I’m gonna say!” I giggled a bit, and he laughed alongside me.  

“Well, there’ll be a barrier in place of everythin’ and that dress of yours ain’t comin’ off completely. Gotta keep them perverts on their toes.” He winked at me, and I tried to keep the smile on my face, but under it all, I felt as if this was very dangerous.  

As he kissed me softly in front of the cameras and rolled his eyes playfully as the director asked him to push my dress up to show more of my skin, I felt something lurking in the shadows. Once this was shot, there was no going back and for some reason, I felt completely doomed.  

*** 

I woke up with a start, flinging my body forward. From the sofa, the Ghoul shushed me, holding a gloved finger over my mouth.  

I could hear something outside, and I assumed that was what woke me up. It was a strange sound, of someone dragging their feet through the dirt and the mud. We sat there in silence for a full half an hour, until the dragging sound moved away from the hut and back out into the darkness.  

“You mind takin’ the next watch, Sweetheart?” he said, “I need to get a couple hours kip in before we set off tomorrow.”  

“Sure,” I say tentatively, pulling out my pistol. “I’m glad you finally trust me.”  

“Well, I’m a huge fan.” He laid heavy emphasis on the ‘huge’, winking at me through the dusk light. I rolled my eyes, but inside I felt a little proud for some stupid goddamn reason.  

Back when I started acting, I didn’t think I’d have any living fans – never mind a half-dead irradiated man from 200 years in the future. Is he half-dead? It’d never been explained to me at the brothel – I’d just done my service and taken the RadAway. None of the others had ever stuck around to tell me their life story.  

We switched places, I sat myself down on the sofa and the Ghoul lay down on the bedroll on the floor.  

“Damn, this shit is fuckin’ uncomfortable.” I heard him say, and I let out a laugh under my bed.  

“I didn’t complain,” I whispered, and he made a grunting noise. I wasn’t sure if it was meant to be an insult or not, but I just chuckled quietly and pulled out my pistol, aimed at the door ready for anyone who tried to force their way through.  

The sun rose quickly after that, and by the light of the sky, I was able to get a better look at the Ghoul’s sleeping face. There was something so familiar about him, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I decided it was the cowboy look – it reminded me of the niche I’d almost fallen into after my three-month contract with Cooper’s team. The audience had loved our chemistry on screen in The Man from Deadhorse, and the studios knew they’d get a lot more money if we came as a package deal – so we shot Under the Covers, City of Starlight and Valley of the Gun together. It took me back to the last film I’d shot, the one I hadn’t finished shooting.  

I looked down at my clothes – the same clothes I’d been wearing 200 years ago on set. The ‘Western Hooker’ dress, of which there had originally been five different versions. The hat, which I’d stolen from my co-worker as a joke, but had still been on my head when we’d been told to start running. For a moment, I could still smell the food that they’d made us on set. I could still smell the horse manure, and the flashing of lights.  

I looked back at the Ghoul, awake now, and almost came to a realisation.

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul #fallout tv series #fallout show #walton goggins

[kimsohn]

Ꮺ CUTE

pairing . soobin x gn!reader about . 848 words, fluff note . for @obrigados based on this mb!! congratulations <3

the classroom is empty when you walk in, save for the music blasting through your earphones and the squeaking of your shoes against the floor. the window's left wide open, causing a hint of a breeze to flutter in through the gap, but it does everything but make you happy as you slide it down shut.

you eye the small pile of leaves that have made their way through the window gap. the universe seems to hate you today, you think, as you pick up the broom. cleaning duty on a friday is already miserable enough, but with the way the room has been left in an absolute mess after the end of exam season, you know your job today is tenfold harder.

you tackle the floor first, thankful that there are no annoying food crumbs to deal with, before moving onto the board. the chalkboard is dusty, and it takes several rounds of cleaning solution before the etches of the day have faded away. once a lively board filled with classwork and the small doodles in the corner you hope your teacher doesn't notice, the pristine condition of the green frame seems unfamiliar to you. you think that's a good sign though, because it always means you get to start over again on a blank slate the next day.

your last task of today, arguably the hardest, is sorting the desks. things you find on the floor or on the board are often predictable and easy to deal with. the seating arrangements, practically where the students live, are a different story though. you shudder as you clean out the first row, remembering a particularly horrible time when you found a moldy banana peel in the depths of the desk cubby. gradually, you work your way through each section, praying you won't find anything terrible, and as you reach your last desk, you thank god that the worst thing you've encountered so far is crumpled-up papers of chain messages.

you scan the inside of the desk before moving to the top, noticing the calculator in the corner. its presence is foreign, mainly because calculators are too expensive to be simply forgotten on a tabletop, but what intrigues you the most is the bright screen, indicating that it's clearly on. a device normally filled with math formulas and numbers that make your brain dizzy, it's surprising to see a beautiful flower on the tiny frame, made delicately with the selection of different buttons that produce unexpected, yet astonishing results.

you're too zoned into the tunes floating in your ears to hear the clearing of a throat behind you, once, twice, before it lands you a pat on the shoulder. you whirl around, calculator in hand, to see none other than choi soobin standing behind you, looking at you with an indecipherable expression.

"hey," he starts as you take your earphones out. "i think i forgot my calculator here, but seems like you've already found it."

too busy absorbed in your cleaning, you fail to realize that your crush of seven years sits in the exact seat you're standing in front of. to summarize, this situation is extremely awkward, and you feel yourself shriveling as he stares down at you, the clock ticking by agonizingly.

"i'm sorry!" you exclaim, offering the calculator to him. "i was on cleaning duty, and i happened to stumble upon it."

he accepts it gratefully, and the light brush of your fingers against his is enough to make your heart pound. he looks down at the illuminated screen, tracing the edges with his gaze until he pockets the device in his bag.

"so, you saw the flower, huh?" he says, zipping up his bag.

you want to protest, to remain oblivious, but you think he already seems to know the answer.

"yeah," you voice sheepishly, "i didn't mean to though, i swear. it was just already turned on, so..."

"it's okay. it's just something i do when i'm bored."

he turns to leave, swinging his bag over his shoulder, but your voice blurts out before u can stop it.

"it was cute, you know. the flower. you're crazy talented for being able to make it, even if you were bored."

"thanks," he says, turning his head back as he walks to the door. you watch pitifully as he nears closer to the wooden frame, already accepting another meaningless encounter going to waste with your crush, but his voice makes you reconsider everything you've believed in.

"not as cute as you though."

you meet his gaze as his head turns. he smiles, so softly you think you're imagining it, and just like the wind floating away, he's disappeared in thin air.

as you pick up your headphones, wrapping them around your neck, you notice a piece of paper on the desk next to you. your fingers pull it open subconsciously as if it was meant for you, and as you read its contents, you wonder if cleaning day isn't so bad after all.

i hang out by the park after school on fridays. meet me there :)

#soobin x reader #txt x reader #choi soobin x reader #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop fluff #kpop scenarios #text #txt #txt fluff #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt drabbles #tomorrow x together #soobin #soobin fluff #soobin drabbles #soobin imagines #choi soobin #choi soobin fluff

[hergrandplan]

Wille Month 2024 (@youngroyals-events), Day 1: Sandwich

These days, their love lies in the simple things – going to bed a bit earlier than they have to, just so they can cuddle, Wille’s home in his arms, right where he belongs. It is laughing over coffee, delaying heading to work for as long as they possibly can because they don’t want to miss a single moment with each other. Saturday afternoon cleaning sessions, interrupted by stolen kisses, and late-night reruns of their favorite shows.

The grand gestures are things they have left behind in the days of their youth – they don’t need the big declarations anymore, school anthems rewritten and thrones abdicated. There is no need for it, when love lingers in every single touch.

It’s in the quiet moments, the whispered ‘I love yous’, that Wille feels his heart almost combust with overflowing love.

And today, it’s in Simon showing up to his work unannounced. It’s almost scary, the way Simon knows exactly what Wille needs even when he hasn’t said a thing.

Wille’s morning consists of an endless string of meetings, each more awful than the last. It doesn’t help that his boss is away this week, having handed all his unfinished tasks for Wille to deal with, as if Wille doesn’t have enough to do already. It fills his stomach with dread, the amount of unanswered e-mails in his inbox that he has to do something with, even if he has no idea what.

By 11 am, Wille is drained, and has no idea how he’ll get through the next 6 hours. On top of that, there’s a message from Simon on his phone sent about an hour ago that he hasn’t even opened yet.

A few minutes past noon, there’s a soft knock on his door.

Wille has no time to deal with any of his colleagues right now – barely has time to think, but he says “come in” anyways, because maybe it’s urgent. Everything always feels urgent, somehow.

But instead of Myriam from accounting asking a question about the budget, or Ron coming in with more reports he has to sign off on, it’s Simon, the love of his life, standing in the doorway to his office. Smiling and curls tousled by the wind.

Relief floods through his body immediately – even just seeing him is enough to ease the pressure on his chest a bit.

Simon makes his way over to Wille and wraps his arms around him, nudging his chin up to kiss him, soft and tender. Wille clutches the fabric of his shirt tight, pressing his face against Simon’s sternum, but it isn’t until Simon places a kiss to the crown on his head that Wille feels like he can actually breathe again.

“Hey,” Simon says then. Wille hears the smile in his voice, feels how Simon’s arms tighten around him just a little, the press of his chin on his head. They hold each other like that – Wille, sat on his desk chair, Simon standing upright – for a few minutes, until Simon moves away a little so he can look at Wille. He places his hand on Wille’s cheek, and Wille leans into his touch immediately. He takes another deep breath.

“What are you doing here?” Wille asks, now gazing up at Simon. And he’s so beautiful, Wille still doesn’t know how he ever got this lucky.

Simon pulls away a bit, but keeps one arm wrapped around Wille’s frame while his other reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a tiny parcel, wrapped in a purple napkin.

“I figured, since you didn’t answer my texts, that you were either busy or stressed, and that you probably figured you didn’t have time for lunch, and so – I brought you lunch.”

Simon sits down on his lap as Wille takes the package from him and unwraps it to find a sandwich. Wille can’t help but chuckle as he takes a grateful bite. Simon knows him well – Wille hadn’t even thought about lunch yet, let alone if he was going to have it or not. He lets out a satisfied sigh at the taste of hummus and cucumber and cheese, with a little bit of hot sauce – just how Wille likes it.

The sandwich isn’t quite a surprise. Sandwiches are quick and easy, especially when the man you love has gone out of his way to give it to you because he knows you wouldn’t have eaten anything otherwise. But it’s also a small declaration of his love for Wille, an I care about you. By not answering his texts, Simon somehow figured out that Wille needed him, and here he was now, fingers playing with his hair as Wille enjoys this rare moment of peace and quiet in the middle of a busy work day.

“I love you,” Wille says, once he’s finished the sandwich.

“You better, I saved you from starvation,” Simon responds, smirking. Then his smile softens, and he presses his lips against Wille’s forehead. “I love you too.”

Wille lays his head on Simon’s shoulder again, brings his arms up to hold him, just for one moment longer until Simon has to go. At least his thoughts have quieted now, and even his mailbox doesn’t seem as daunting. He’s not sure if it’s the food or the simply Simon’s presence, but that doesn’t really matter.

Simon stays just a bit longer than necessary, just until Wille manages to clean up his inbox and knows that he’ll make it through the day without a panic attack. When he leaves, he takes a cookie out of his pocket and puts it on Wille’s desk. “For when you get peckish at 4,” he says.

And then, with one last final kiss goodbye, he’s out the door again.

Will doesn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.

#i swore i wasn't going to write anything #oh well! #no i did NOT use this as a way to cope with my overflowing inbox bc my boss is on leave #what makes you think THAT #anyways ! sandwiches are an act of love #willemonth2024 #young royals #yr fanfic #yr fic #yr fanfiction #young royals fanfiction #young royals fanfic #young royals fic #young royals archive #wilmon #wilmon fanfiction #prince wilhelm #wilhelm eriksson now? #simon eriksson #wmday1

[slyscoutess]

I'm going to be taking advantage of the trailer for Senna's new miniseries to explain a subject that Brazil has been talking about for years, and that I think is important to share, so as not to have disagreements with the somewhat uncertain future of the script made for the miniseries.

Explaining why many Senna fans don't like Xuxa, a great artist and his most famous ex.

All the information in this was taken and translated from a thread, which was taken from several public interviews and also from stories that we have been told about Senna since we were little, so I may forget some details!

the release of the trailer for the Netflix series “SENNA” has revived the debate about how Senna’s relationship with Xuxa is portrayed in the media. Firstly, it is important to know that they had a public relationship between 1988 and 1990 (we don't know for sure) their relationship was very well regarded by the media and by the pilot's family, after the end the two continued to be “friends” publicly for more 2 years

In 1993 Ayrton began dating Adriane Galisteu, which according to some articles irritated the pilot's family, as in addition to liking Xuxa a lot (who was already famous and rich at that time), they thought that his current girlfriend might have had her eye on his money. Shortly after the beginning of Senna and Galisteu's relationship, there were some interviews with the singer Xuxa, saying that Ayrton had cut off contact with her because of his new girlfriend, clearly with the intention of being welcomed by the public as the “poor thing” in the situation.

[ TRANSLATION: after the funeral, Galisteu's relationship with Xuxa, however, was shaken. The presenter and pilot dated for approximately one year and eight months and continued to meet for more two years after they broke up. Then Senna started dating Galisteu and "cut contacts" ]

After the fateful accident, which unfortunately ended up taking the great Brazilian idol, Senna's family continued to exclude Galisteu and support Xuxa, which led many fans to side with the model since she had just lost her boyfriend and was without any support.

[ TRANSLATION 1: Family members welcomed the queen of little kids with open arms, but they did not hug Galisteu. At the time, one of the last in the procession reported - Xuxa was if the car Adriane was in was in the second car, just behind the car that carried Senna's body. ]

[ TRANSLATION 2: Crying a lot, Galisteu said that the two of them were having a great time in their relationship, that she was very much in love and had no idea what she was going to do with her life. "I think I'm living a nightmare and I'm going to wake up. There are moments when I'm strong, aware of everything, and others when I'm totally out of my mind. And I suddenly find myself completely alone, because I lost my boyfriend", said the model. "I wanted to go back in time two days to do something and stop everything ," she added. "But for me he was untouchable, he always came out well of accidents.” ]

[ TRANSLATION 3: When Adriane arrived at the burial site, there were only two empty chairs left, both next to Xuxa. She sat to the right of the presenter. The two spent two "long" minutes without even looking at each other, until someone offered Xuxa a seat next to Leonardo Senna, the driver's brother. ]

It is also worth mentioning that many of Senna's friends stated that he said that Galisteu was the love of his life and that he wanted to build a family with the model. However, Xuxa continued going after the pilot to try to get back together while he was still with the model.

[ TRANSLATION 1 : Then, according to the report, the presenter got into the family car, accompanied by Ayrton's sister, Viviane Senna, and left with them, while Galisteu had to walk to the exit of the cemetery and board a bus reserved for guests. For the journalists covering the burial, there was a clear impression that Adriane had not received the consideration that the three-time world champion himself had been giving his girlfriend. ]

[ TRANSLATION 2: Journalist Lemyr Martins, author of the book "A Star Called Senna", said, in a BBC documentary, that Galisteu was Senna's great love and "could have been the mother of his children", if it weren't for accident that killed the athlete in Italy. However, there are also theories of that Xuxa and Sena had talked about day before the accident and would have decided to resume the relationship. ]

[ TRANSLATION 3: In 1993, Senna opened up about the relationship that lives with Galisteus: "I'm very happy. [...] Having a life. As we Brazilian (pilots), traveling the world with Formula 1, we deserve, sometimes, to take a little calm and share our life with a special woman", he stated. ]

Okay love, but what's up? Why is there so much antipathy between Xuxa and motorsport fans? The reality is, the reason is that she used a lot of the driver's image to promote herself even after the accident, in addition to trying to force that SHE was the great love of his life, it is worth mentioning that the rumors that they had talked before the race were initiated, and are remembered, by her and her alone, with a video and/or interview talking year after year about a supposed connection they both had, always pretending to be a repentant widow, and Senna had two love affairs before Galisteu, after da Xuxa. Even after 30 years she still continues to share their INTIMATE moments, which in my opinion is totally disrespectful to Ayrton

She is known for wanting to convey the image of an “inconsolable widow” to this day, which is an image that doesn't work very well in Brazil, especially those who follow the interviews with Ayrton's friends, and Adriane herself, who leave It's very clear the pure love they felt for each other, as Adriane was the love of his life, he wanted to form his family with her, and one of Ayrton's biggest dreams was to be a father, so he could understand that he wanted to fulfill this dream about her says a lot about his love for her

apparently the Senna series will show this Xuxa character as a “widow” figure for Ayrton, especially because here we know that Adriane was not called to help in any way regarding her moments with him during the development of the series, to be clearer , she thought the character's name wouldn't be hers, she thought they would make her a fictional character.

Unlike Xuxa, Galisteu's interviews are rarely trying to “get back into the media” using Senna's name, as well as being very elegant when mentioning all of the presenter's “stories”.

“butterfly path, my 405 days alongside Ayrton Senna” by Adriane Galisteu

Adriane received an offer to be a Grid Girl at the 1993 Brazilian Grand Prix. She didn't like the idea, because she didn't care about F1, but she ended up agreeing as it was a good proposal. The first meeting with Senna took place on Saturday, during a social event at the Shell hospitality center, but they did not interact. On race Sunday, during the pitwalk, she was approached near the McLaren pits "I'm Ayrton Senna's private affairs advisor. He asked me to get his phone number." She passed and continued her work. She, who initially didn't like racing, found herself cheering madly for the Brazilian to win the race. And he won!

During the celebration given by Shell, all the grid girls came to him to congratulate him. She congratulated him and he asked her to celebrate with him. She refused. He called her the next day and asked her out. She refused again. He invited her to a party. She got a puncture and didn't go AGAIN hahaha

HE ENDED UP AT HER AGENCY OUT OF NOWHERE, everyone was euphoric.

They met at his house and arranged to go to Angra. They went in a helicopter piloted by Senna himself. She says that those days were extremely happy, she talks about her first kiss and the many walks on the beach and diving with her dog Kinda. Still on that same trip, he invented that there was a problem in the room she was in and took her to another "It's my room. Now it's yours too. Make yourself comfortable", From then on, they never let go!

She was introduced into F1, as his girlfriend, at the Monaco GP. She received a private lesson on all the characteristics of the track and was introduced to Berger, Braguinha, Rubinho, Betise, Galvão. He won the race and said it was for her. Upon returning from that incredible trip he says:

"Please don't ever change. If I had to ask you for something, it would be to be exactly who you are. You just don't need to drink so much Coca-Cola, go to so many McDonald's and, seriously, I think you should study English"

Already in Brazil, Dri was looking for a used car to buy. Then on a date that wouldn't be anything special, he surprises her with a brand new silver Uno. The car was full of flowers. On the plate a special detail: "DRI7770". She still has this car today.

Another cute episode was one time they got into an argument over an interview she gave to a magazine. To apologize later, he surprises her:

"Have you been to the bank yet?”

He gave a beautiful interview about how much he loved her, he even gave images of the two of them to Caras magazine.

"One day, I'm going to marry you. And one day I'm going to race in a Ferrari. Even if the Ferrari car drives as fast as a beetle car, I want to be there at my last start, my last lap, my last checkout - I dreamed. - Ferrari is the mystique of Formula 1"

Many say that this relationship made Senna a happier man. That Galisteus made him much happier and lighter.

Words from one of the most important people in the pilot's life, Braguinha: “Ayrton was sad and she made him happier”

The book tells this and much more.

It was such a cute story that it seems like fanfic. Dri moved on with her life, but she always carries this important part with her. She says that she would never want her story to be disconnected from his, that she has the honor of being Senna's ex.

For those who like these behind-the-scenes things, it's worth reading! There are so many more stories there!

I admire Adriane Galisteu so much

She was so young and had to deal with so much. I saw some interviews that were clearly rude to her and she never lost her class!

April 30, 1994

"I have a lot to tell you. To propose to you. To offer you - he continued. I must be there at 8:30 pm, or so. I want to spend the night awake. Let's talk until dawn. I want to convince you that I am, by the way, the best man of your life"

Sempre Senna.

#formula 1 #f1 #formula one #ayrton senna #senna #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x you #sebastian vettel #sv5 #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc #cl16 #carlos sainz #cs55 #lando norris #ln4 #lewis hamilton #lh44

[xurory]

HONEY, I KNOW YOU

after encountering something that triggered you during your mission with silver wolf, you couldn't help but let it get the best of you.

pairing. blade x fem!reader

cc. trauma . rev comfort . stellaron hunter reader . 3rd pov during the dream . stabbing . blood . cursing . 1.6k words

lately, you haven't been yourself. and the sudden shift of your demeanor was quite literally obvious. because who doesn't notice when someone becomes all gloomy after being known for her bubbly and sparkling personality almost her entire life? that's right.

it all started on an evening after a mission of yours with silverwolf that let's say.. did not go as planned. you walking in wearing a somber face expression was the least of your co-workers expectations.

well, they had expected you to be all happy that you came back to them in one piece and probably gossip with kafka right after. but no. you did the unexpected.

heading over to silverwolf to fetch your phone that she had borrowed to send something to her account and then leave almost immediately. not daring to even spare a glance of the people surrounding you.

everything went quiet, your co-workers looking into each others eyes suspiciously after what the hell just happened. "did you do something again?" kafka asked, cocking a brow towards the tall man leaning against the a wall beside her.

"yeah, blade, what did you do!" silver wolf added, shifting her tone into a slight louder one.

blade shot the two with a confused look, not even he knew what he had done to make you upset to the point you had to ignore them like that.

it felt odd. you. they weren't used to you being like this. and they weren't looking forward to be. even if you looked way too joyful sometimes, they liked you for you. well, especially blade. he's your lover after all.

it pained him to see you that way.

blade has decided to check up on you, leaving the room without a word said. he reached your shared bedroom, hesitantly knocking just before he slowly opened the door.

to his own surprise, you had already fallen into deep slumber. how quick was that. maybe you just weren't in the right mood, those times happen.

the next day, nothing really changed. you remained the same as yesterday, as if you had no spark left in you.

and you couldn't contain it any longer. you hated how you basically treated them like nobodies, refusing to talk about anything.

if only they knew what happened when you entered that one storage room during the mission you were currently accomplishing with silver wolf.

"fuuckkk.. that hurts." you wince, cover the freshly created wound on the side of your stomach. you thought you had entered a safe room until you heard chuckling behind you. "hey, there you are."

you immediately picked up that the woman in front of you was an ally of the enemies you were trying to catch. but instead, she caught you. raising her weapon up, then hitting you hard on the head.

"sleep tight, princess." she muttered, you could see through how blurry your vision at the way her palm lit up then slowly placed her hand above your head, unconsciousness claiming you.

"daddy, please stop hurting mommy!" the little girl screeched, holding her doll close to her. she couldn't do anything but watched the way her father continuously stabbed her mother on her torso, blood splashing everywhere.

the terrifying scene unfolded in front of the girl, with a dreadful look in her eyes. tears steamed down her cheeks while she continued screaming and begging for the man to stop hurting her mother.

all of this was the result of a petty fight, leading to bloody scenes that left a bruise on the mind of the daughter. "you- motherfucker! die! die! die!" her father repeated, leaving the bloody knife that ached against her trembling thighs.

"mommy...." she murmured, shaking in fear. why did it have to end like this? why did she have to watch her beloved mother die in the hands of the man she looked up to?

her father had gone insane, and it affected the way he looked at her daughter, too. he glared at the seven year old standing a few feet away from him, grabbing the knife out the woman's flesh as more blood came out.

his actions made take a few steps back, stumbling in the process. distress flooded her pretty eyes, the ones that her mommy used to compliment every single day.

"daddy.. please don't be mad anymore.." she begged, silently praying that he'd leave her alone, only he wasn't satisfied until he absolutely ruined her like she meant nothing to him. perhaps right now, she really didn't.

he did it all out of his uncontrollable anger that has been going on for years, it's a huge surprise his wife tolerated him. he roughly grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, staining it with the dried up blood all over his hand. "listen here, you little shit. i fucking hate you, and your mother." he spat, making her condition worse.

"im ashamed i ever loved the two of you." he added more to her pain.

she looked up at him like a hero he was to her, and he crushed it all like a chip laying on the floor.

"im sorry daddy, please don't be mad anymore. it's okay, surely mommy will forgive you once she wakes up." oh, how clueless she was.

she was willing to do that, she knew her mother would forgive him the same way she did. the man's hand never let go of her shirt, his anger getting worse every passing minute. "shut the fuck up." he growled, aggressively throwing the girl against the wall, hearing her cry out in pain.

she was absolutely damaged.

"y/n. you are no different from your mother. and that's what i hate about you." he yelled, doing the unexpected. stabbing his little girl on her thigh the way she did with her mother.

she screamed loudly, the agonizing pain flowed all over. "daddy, please stop! it hurts!" soon after, he pulled it out and walked away like nothing had happened. leaving the girl crying against the wall trying to stop the bleeding using her doll.

everything hurts. from the moment her father walked out of her life, it all came crashing down into a thousand pieces begging to be picked up and put together again like old times.

you woke up sweating, head aching. the dream you had suddenly flooded your mind, the memory of your family falling apart and ending in bloodshed felt like daggers.

fighting back tears as your vision blurred, standing up from the cold floor and heading to the door to find silver wolf.

the remembrance made you weak in the knees, your hands shaking from the thought of it. it's like you were seven all over again, sobbing with the pain she carried all together effortlessly.

what happened pushed you to your limits. i mean, you totally ended the woman that did that to you but still. she reminded you of a memory that could break your bones any day.

walking past silver wolf who was playing games in her own world, she unfortunately noticed you and obviously called.

"heyy! come play with me!" she offered joyfully, patting the spot beside her. you were about to decline and go somewhere else until someone gripped your wrists and dragged you out of there.

of course, it was no one else but blade.

"hey- where are you even taking me?" you ask, trying to slip out of his grasp. he locks the two of you in your shared bedroom with a stern look on his face.

to your surprise, he lifted you to sit up on your desk and gets in between your legs, placing a hand against your thigh to prevent you from escaping. "it's either you tell me what's going on with you or we'll be stuck like this for hours." he says.

you stared at him for a good minute without exchanging of words until you couldn't anymore. soon enough, you tore your gaze away from him, looking down.

"okay, fine." sighing.

blade nodded, listening to you.

"you already know about my past. and during my mission with silver wolf the other day, some woman knocked me unconscious and then put some weird spell on me that made me dream about it." you confessed, voice cracking as you did so. "she made me recall a memory i never want to remember ever again—and it struck like lighting to me. i already forgot about it after so long and i can't afford going through the same pain again such as thinking about it almost everyday."

hot tears steamed down your cheeks uncontrollably, and blade was there to wipe them away. he pulled you to his chest, caressing your head affectionately.

you rarely ever broke down like this to him, so obviously he wouldn't take it lightly. you were strong, you do not cry about small things. so whenever it comes to moments like this, he knows youre badly hurt.

your endless sobs troubled him, letting your tears stain his clothes. he'd rather you come and dump your problems to him instead of shouldering them all alone.

"perhaps every time im reminded by what my father did, ill always end up like this." you weep, hugging his waist closer.

"and thats okay." blade whispered, reassuring you.

he hated seeing you cry. your tears were equivalent to multiple sword slashing him down. and if he had the chance to take your pain away and keep it to himself, he would. no hesitation.

blade hadn't moved an inch during your hug with him, maybe this time, he'd let you pull away first.

shortly after, you pulled away to wipe away the excess tears on your face as you sniffled. your eyes had gone puffy and the drowsiness was getting to you.

"im sorry for ignoring you." you apologize, grabbing his hand.

silence was all you received from your lover, but you knew he forgave you, of course he did. his hand went up your chin to make you face him, claiming your lips with his.

through the passionate, deep kiss—blade felt you smile.

finally.

likes & reblogs are vv appreciated !! 🍓

#>ᴗ< — xu writes ´ˎ˗ #honkai star rail #blade x reader #blade x you #hsr angst #hurt/comfort #reverse comfort #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade angst

[katelynnwrites]

fortnight | felicitas rauch

warnings: angst, mentions of sex

word count: 573

summary: your time together with feli feels like only a pitiful fortnight now that she’s gone to north carolina

a/n: the fourth installation of my 'the anthology' blurbs series

it seems that time feels different ever since feli left for america.

you can’t blame her. no one here’s to blame. she wasn’t getting any playing time at wolfsburg and she was losing her spot on the national team.

she needed a change and that change included leaving you behind.

you hope she’s okay in north carolina. even though you sure as hell are not.

she’s not here in wolfsburg anymore but you can still feel her fleeting touches and kisses.

the defender used to gift you those, in the dark of night and behind closed doors.

during the day you were nothing more than her teammate but at night…at night you had her moaning your name.

you knew her intimately, just as she knew you.

for each and every time you had her crying out in pleasure, she repayed the favour equally well.

you were with the brunette for months and now as you look back on your time together, you realise it feels as short as a simple fortnight.

two weeks, fourteen days, three hundred thirty six hours.

her absence has felt impossibly longer.

for a while, drowning yourself in extra training sessions worked. it was like a miracle move-on drug.

it was everything you needed but oh so temporary.

your playing is missing its usual finesse and you are beginning to find it harder and harder to sleep.

tossing and turning becomes the new nightly activity.

one night it finally dawns on you.

somewhere along with using each other for sex, you fell in love with felicitas.

and now it’s ruining your life.

you touched her but it was only for a fortnight. she was yours, only for a fortnight.

it wasn’t enough.

seeing the former wolfsburg player in person again is a rarity but it does happen.

she’s managed to become a starter for germany once again and when your country plays her, she’s there.

you’re on the bench because it seems that unlike feli, whose career is soaring like it used to be, yours is slowly but surely falling apart.

the ghost of her touch haunts you relentlessly every second.

all of your wolfsburg teammates miss her and yet you can’t express how much you miss her. not if you want to keep the details of your less than platonic relationship private.

it hurts you more than you care to admit.

you don’t come on at all but you are not surprised.

what’s surprising is that the brunette approaches you after the match, sending a smile your way.

‘hey you. long time no see.’

‘yeah feli.’

you fidget a bit cause she looks impossibly good. she’s got new highlights in her hair and her cheeks have the prettiest blush.

she begins to say more but is distracted by something behind you.

or rather someone waving.

‘oh gosh sorry i hope you don’t mind us catching up another time. that’s my girlfriend and she must be here to surprise me because i didn’t know she was coming today.’

then she’s gone. again.

leaving you standing alone in shock. with an awfully nasty empty feeling in your chest.

desperately, you want to tell her, ‘i love you, it’s ruining my life.’

because it is the truth.

you love her. it’s ruining your life.

you touched her for what feels like a mere fortnight but now she’s no longer yours to touch and you don’t know how to deal with that.

#feli rauch #felicitas rauch #feli rauch x reader #felicitas rauch x reader #feli rauch imagine #felicitas rauch imagine #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #dfb frauen #gerwnt #nc courage #north carolina courage #nwsl #woso blurbs #woso oneshot #'the anthology' blurbs series

[jazminrhode1]

hiiii! if you're stil writing can you please write one where matt sturn and reader are just so in love and he cant stop telling people about her?

The Interview Matt Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Matt was onto his 6th interview of the day. He set up his laptop at the kitchen table and you’d been sitting across from him all morning waiting for him to be done.

“Hi Matt,” you heard the interviewer say. He was less nervous now that he’d had some practice.

They asked the same old generic questions like, how his brothers were, how he came up with the idea for this project, and what inspired it. But, out of left field, they asked about you.

You saw Matt squirm in his seat across the table. “I hope that doesn’t cross a line,” she said sweetly.

“No,” he said, shaking his head a little too aggressively to be casual.

He looked at you and you glared right back. You hadn’t had this conversation in a while. You hadn’t spoken about keeping your relationship offline in the beginning but, it had been 2 years and things were different. Everyone knew and they reacted terribly but, the dust had settled since then.

You saw the look in his eyes. He was asking permission and you gave it to him with a shrug.

He let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxed; he looked happy.

“Y/n is great, actually,” he said with a smile.

“I know you don’t talk about her often but, I was wondering if you could tell us a little bit about how you both met?”

“Oh,” he said, “Well, she’s a good friend of Madison and we were all hanging out there a lot and, it just happened. She’s great. She’s perfect. She feels more like my home than any house ever did.”

You swallowed down the lump forming in your throat. It wasn’t often that you got to hear how Matt talked about you to other people. Sure, your friends told you that he gloats about you any chance he got but, you never heard it from him.

The next interviewer asked what made Matt fall in love with you and he explained, “Y/n is beautiful. Even more so on the inside if that’s possible. But, it wasn’t any one thing that made me fall in love with her. It was the love she has for her family, it was the way her smile lights up a room, it’s the kindness she shows to strangers, it’s the way that she can get through to me when no one else can. She’s the first person I reach for in the morning, she’s the first person I want to call with news good or bad, she’s my best friend and she is my favourite person in the world.”

His eyes were so intense on you that you thought he could read all of your thoughts. It was often like that. He was so attuned to you, so perceptive to your needs, so receptive to your feelings. Matt was, in so many ways, perfect. You could not have dreamed him up.

The final interviewer asked the same age-old questions. You mocked him behind the screen and Matt did his best not to laugh. He was tired, you could tell. As the interview came to an end, the interviewer asked one final question.

“You’ve gotten into writing a lot, I’ve seen a few passages that you shared on Instagram. What inspires you the most?”

Without hesitation, Matt said, “Y/n. She inspires everything that I do. I read a quote once that said, ‘If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.’ I like to think that if I write about all the people and the things that I love, I can never really lose them, you know? Even if y/n chose to leave me, I’d always have a piece of her with me”

There was silence on the other end. You started to think they lost connection.

“I think there’s a lot of people out there who 

“I’ve fucked up a lot of relationships but, I think it all needed to happen so that I can be the person I am now for y/n. You need to be open and receptive and believe that you deserve to find happiness with another person. Y/n is a much better person than I am but, no one will ever love her as much as I do. And I do. And I show her every day and I will for the rest of my life.”

Matt shut the laptop when the interview wrapped and pushed his chair back from the table. You walked around and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His arms snaked around your waist as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck.

“I’ve never heard you talk about me before,” you said.

“I feel sorry for people. You’re all I ever talk about,” he replied with a smile.

Matt loved you. You knew that with every fibre of your being but, today showed you just how much.

#Sturniolo Triplets #Matt Sturniolo #Matthew Sturniolo #Matt Sturniolo Fan Fic #Matthew Sturniolo Fan Fic #Matt Sturniolo Fanfiction #Matthew Sturniolo Fanfiction #Matt Sturniolo One Shot #Matthew Sturniolo One Shot #Matt Sturniolo x Reader #Matthew Sturniolo x Reader #Sturniolo Triplets Fan Fic #Sturniolo Triplets Fanfiction #Sturniolo Triplets One Shot #Chris Sturniolo #Nick Sturniolo