#I don’t know how I could’ve done this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

orangeblossomsintheair · 1 day ago

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LIONHEART (1/2) – LN4

summary : lando’s anxious journey as a dad-to-be

wc : 11k

an : this fic is kind of the antithesis of my whole “casual blog” thing but we close our eyes!! not beta read and quite a mess. it’s also longer so i hope that’s okay :>

Lando had always been confident.

On the track, in the spotlight, with a helmet on his head and a steering wheel in his hands. But when you told him you were pregnant, all of that certainty evaporated in an instant.

He just stood there in the middle of your kitchen, staring at you as if you’d just announced you were moving to Mars.

“You’re joking,” he said after a beat, his voice higher than usual, almost squeaky.

“Why would I joke about this?” you replied, holding up the positive test, your own emotions a mix of excitement and nervousness.

He blinked, his aquamarine eyes wide with disbelief, before breaking into a grin so wide it could’ve lit up the whole room. “I’m going to be a dad?”

“Yes, Lando,” you said, trying not to laugh at how genuinely dumbfounded he looked.

“A dad?” he repeated, as though saying it louder would make it sink in faster.

“Yes, Lando,” you said again, this time laughing outright.

He crossed the room in two strides, pulling you into his arms and lifting you off your feet.

He spun you around with an uncontainable excitement, his hoodie brushing against your cheek as he held you tight.

“This is insane,” he mumbled into your hair. “We’re going to be parents!”

“Careful,” you said, swatting at him lightly as he set you down. “You don’t want to shake the baby loose already.”

“Oh, right,” he said, letting go and stepping back. His head jerked up as he processed your words, looking alarmed. “Wait, is that a thing? Can I- are you okay? Are we okay? Is the baby okay?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Lando, I found out like an hour ago. I’m pretty sure we’re fine.”

He paced the kitchen, running a hand through his curls as his grin came and went in waves. “A baby. We’re having a baby. Oh my God. Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know yet, Lando,” you said, sitting down on the couch to watch him spiral. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

“What if it’s twins?” he gasped, spinning around to face you. “Oh, I should call my mum. No, wait, too soon. We need to come up with a plan first. Have you eaten today? You need to eat. Should we go to a doctor? Ooh, they need to be a really good doctor if they’re handling my wife and baby. Should I buy baby books? Do people still read books, or do we just Google everything now?”

“Lando,” you said firmly, grabbing his hand to pull him to a stop. “Breathe.”

He took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, nodding. “Right. Breathing. I can do that.”

He knelt down in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Sorry, I’m just… this is the biggest thing we’ve ever done.”

You smiled, brushing a curl out of his face. “It is. But we’ve got this, Lando.”

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against your belly, even though it wasn’t showing yet. “Hi in there,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with wonder. “I’m your dad. I can’t promise I’ll always know what I’m doing, but I promise I’m going to love you more than anything in the world.”

—-

Lando had always been a man of routine– wake up, train, meetings, practice, race, repeat.

But preparing to be a dad? That was a whole different kind of race.

“I need a list,” he muttered one evening, pacing the living room while you sat on the couch, trying not to laugh. “No, like, several lists. One for baby stuff, one for the hospital bag, one for- what else do we need? Is there a book about this? Should I read a book?”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently, “you’re spiraling again.”

“I’m not spiraling! I’m… planning,” he countered, though the way he was raking his hand through his curls said otherwise. “We have to be ready, love. What if the baby comes early? What if I’m away for a race?”

You set aside the baby name book you were half-heartedly skimming and grabbed his hand, pulling him to sit beside you. “We’ll figure it out, okay? You’re doing great.”

He groaned, slumping against the couch. “Am I, though? I can barely keep my plants alive. How am I supposed to keep a tiny human alive?”

“First of all, I’m the one who keeps your plants alive,” you teased, earning a weak laugh from him. “And second, you’re going to be an amazing dad. You care so much already. It’s sweet.”

“But what if I miss something important?” he said, turning to you with wide, anxious eyes. “Like the first kick, or the first cry, or- or- what if you need me and I’m halfway across the world?”

You reached up to smooth his curls, trying to ease his tension. “Lando, you’ve already done so much. The private suite, rearranging your travel schedule to be here for every appointment… You’re balancing everything perfectly.”

—-

The next weekend, Lando was halfway across the world for a race.

He had tried to keep his focus on the track, but his mind kept drifting back to you, sitting at home with your feet propped up, texting him updates about every little thing- what you were craving, how you were feeling, and whether the baby had started kicking.

During a rare free afternoon between practice sessions, he found himself wandering into a bookstore. He had no real plan, he just knew he wanted to learn everything there was to know about being a dad.

The parenting section was tucked in a quiet corner of the shop, and as he stood there surrounded by shelves filled with brightly colored covers promising to teach him how to raise a baby, the weight of it all started to settle in.

At first, Lando was focused, scanning the titles with a determined expression. “The New Dad’s Guide to Baby Basics,” “How to Survive Your Baby’s First Year,” “Sleep Training 101.”

He picked up a few books, flipping through them as if the answers to all his worries might jump out at him.

He grabbed his phone, quickly dialing you.

“Hey, love,” he said, his voice soft and warm. “Quick question- do you think the baby’s gonna like white noise machines? Because this one book says they’re a lifesaver, but another one says they’re not necessary. And then there’s this other chapter about swaddling- do you know how to swaddle? Because I don’t.”

You laughed softly on the other end of the line. “Lando, you’re overthinking again. We’ve got months to figure this all out.”

“I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his curls. “I just… I want to be good at this. I want to be ready.”

And then, as he stood there in the middle of the bookstore, holding a stack of baby books, it hit him.

He was going to be a dad.

The thought wasn’t new. It had been there since the day you told him you were pregnant. But standing there, picturing your little family and the tiny person who was going to look up to him, rely on him, need him… it was overwhelming in the best way.

“Lando?” you said gently, pulling him back to the moment. “You okay?”

“I just-” He laughed nervously. “It’s a lot, you know? I mean, I’m going to be someone’s dad. That’s huge. What if I mess up? I’m practically a child!”

“Yeah,” he said, though his voice cracked a little. He cleared his throat, his free hand gripping the book tightly.

You smiled, wishing you could hug him through the phone. “You won’t mess up. You’re already doing amazing, and the baby’s not even here yet. You care so much, Lando. That’s what matters.”

He took a deep breath, letting your words sink in. “Thanks, love. I just… I want to do this right. For you. For them.”

“You will,” you reassured him. “And for the record, I think the baby’s going to love white noise machines and your ridiculous dad jokes.”

Lando chuckled, the tension in his chest easing slightly. “You think? Because I’ve already got a few saved up. Want to hear one?”

“No,” you teased, laughing. “Save them for when the baby’s old enough to groan at them.”

He grinned, his confidence slowly returning as he balanced the books in his arms. “Okay, okay. I’ll wait. But just so you know, they’re gold.”

After that call, Lando left the store with an armful of books and a heart that was a little fuller, a little steadier.

But one thing he knew for sure- he couldn’t wait to meet the little person who was already changing his world.

He still had moments of doubt, of wondering if he was truly ready for this massive change in his life.

—-

Even as Lando threw himself into preparation mode with the same energy he brought to a race weekend, scouring books and online articles about parenting, he still often got hilariously sidetracked by baby-related gadgets and gear.

“Did you know they make mini race suits for babies?” he asked one night, sprawled across the couch with his phone in hand, his eyes wide with excitement.

You glanced up from your own book, raising an eyebrow. “Lando, the baby’s not even born yet. Don’t you think it’s a little early for racing gear?”

“But imagine the photos!” he argued, sitting up and holding his phone out toward you like it was the discovery of the century.

On the screen was a tiny race suit in McLaren orange. “Our kid’s first photo: full McLaren merch. It’ll be iconic!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “Iconic or not, I think diapers are going to be a bigger priority than race suits.”

“Lando,” you said, trying to sound serious but failing as a smile tugged at your lips, “our baby isn’t going to be born straight into a Formula 1 garage.”

“Why not both?” he shot back with a grin, already scrolling to find more baby-sized racing gear.

“Oh my god, look at this! miniature headphones for the paddock! Our baby could be sitting in the garage, looking like a proper little team member.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Blasphemy! Of course they are. It’s practically tradition.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help feeling touched by his enthusiasm. He wasn’t just excited; he was genuinely looking forward to every part of being a dad, even the ridiculous ones.

That wasn’t to say there weren’t more.. unwise moments even with non-racing related baby items.

Like the time he came home from a race weekend with three identical diaper bags.

“Lando,” you said, holding one up. “Why do we need three of these?”

“They’re different brands,” he explained, looking genuinely confused as to why you were asking. “What if one of them is better? Or has more pockets?”

“Pockets?”

“Yeah! Babies need a lot of stuff, right? I saw a mom at the airport with one of these, and she looked like she had her life together. I want you to have your life together too.”

You burst out laughing, and he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Stop laughing! I’m trying to be prepared!”

“You’re overprepared,” you said, setting the bags down and walking over to wrap your arms around him. “But that’s why I love you.”

But it also wasn’t all fun and games.

Lando was determined to be as supportive as possible, especially when it came to your comfort. He took “protective husband” to a whole new level during your first trimester, hovering like an overzealous pit crew.

“Lando, I can still carry my own bag,” you told him one morning as he practically wrestled your tote out of your hands.

“Nope,” he said firmly, slinging it over his shoulder like it was his new personal mission. “You’re carrying our future world champion. I’ve got this.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s a tote bag, not a tire. I think I can manage.”

“Well, I’m not taking any chances,” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically. “What kind of dad would I be if I let you strain yourself this early?”

“A sane one?” you teased.

He huffed, clutching the bag like it was a trophy. “I’ll ignore that slander. Now, where’s your water bottle? And your snacks? Have you eaten? Do you need to sit down?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Lando, I’m fine. You don’t need to act like I’m about to collapse any second.”

“Not on my watch,” he declared, marching ahead of you with your bag.

“Do you even know how many articles I’ve read about pregnancy? You’re supposed to avoid heavy lifting, stay hydrated, and-”

“-and avoid stress,” you interrupted, smirking. “Which you’re causing right now with all this hovering.”

“I’m helping,” he corrected, spinning around to face you with a determined look. “And besides, you’d thank me if you saw the kind of stuff I’ve been reading. Did you know some women crave chalk during pregnancy? Chalk! What if that happens to you? I need to be prepared!”

“Lando, I’m not craving chalk,” you said, trying not to laugh.

“Not yet,” he countered, narrowing his eyes like it was only a matter of time. “But when you do, I’ll be ready with… I don’t know, chalk alternatives or something.”

“Is that what you’ve been doing on your phone? Researching chalk alternatives?”

“Did you know we might need a whole new mattress? Pregnant people need optimal support. And I saw this thing about belly bands. Do you want one? I can order it right now. Oh! And don’t even get me started on prenatal yoga-”

“Among other things,” he said with a shrug, completely serious.

You reached out to grab his arm, laughing. “Okay, slow down, Mr. Norris. You’re going to give yourself a stress rash before we even get to the second trimester.”

He looked at you sheepishly, his determination softening into a shy smile. “I just… I want to do this right, you know? I’ve never done this before.”

You softened, cupping his cheek. “I know, love. And you’re doing amazing. But you don’t have to do everything perfectly. Just… be here. That’s all I need.”

His shoulders relaxed a little, and he leaned into your touch. “Okay,” he murmured.

Then, after a beat: “But I’m still carrying the bag.”

“Of course you are,” you said, shaking your head as he flashed you that trademark cheeky grin.

From then on, Lando took his role as your personal assistant very seriously. He stocked the fridge with all your favorite snacks, some of which you hadn’t even asked for.

“I saw this article about pickles and peanut butter,” he said one day, holding up a jar. “Do you think you’ll want to try it? Should I get bread?”

“You’re the one who’s going to end up eating it,” you teased.

And when it came to appointments, he was like a man on a mission. He set reminders, packed snacks for the waiting room, and even insisted on bringing a notebook to jot down questions.

“I don’t want to forget anything important,” he said, scribbling furiously while the doctor explained prenatal vitamins.

“You’re going to end up with a full-on pregnancy thesis,” you joked.

“Because I need to know everything.”

“Good,” he replied, deadpan.

He was equal parts adorable and exhausting, but one thing was clear: Lando was already the most devoted dad-to-be you could have asked for.

—-

He didn’t care what he had to move around, he was going to be there.

Lando insisted on attending every single doctor’s appointment, even if it meant rearranging his training schedule or skipping a media event.

Your husband had always been incredibly aware of his public image, and he knew his absence in a lot of McLaren PR videos was beginning to be noticed.

The whispers started subtly at first, just a few fans commenting on his social media posts, wondering why he wasn’t posting as frequently, why he wasn’t sharing his usual behind-the-scenes content.

Fans questioning his commitment to racing, accusing him of not showing up enough for the sport.

But over time, it started to get louder. On Twitter, the rumors spread like wildfire.

He couldn’t give a damn, to be honest.

He was fidgeting with the strap of his McLaren cap, spinning it around in his hands like it was the only thing grounding him.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” he told you one day as you both waited in the ultrasound room.

“What if they show us something important, like the baby’s heartbeat, and I’m not here? I’d never forgive myself.”

“You’ll see everything,” you assured him, lacing your fingers with his and giving his hand a squeeze. “I promise you won’t miss a thing.”

He exhaled deeply but didn’t stop fidgeting. “Do you think they’re okay? Like, really okay? What if the baby’s too small? What if-”

“Lando,” you interrupted gently, giving him a pointed look. “Breathe. Everything’s fine. You’re panicking for nothing.”

He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just... I’ve never been this nervous before. Not even before my first race.”

He leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, his hand clutching yours like it was a lifeline.

When the ultrasound tech finally entered the room and began the scan, Lando nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Alright,” the tech said with a kind smile, turning the screen toward you both. “Here’s your baby.”

Lando froze, his eyes wide as the faint image of your baby appeared on the monitor. “That’s… them?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“That’s them,” the tech confirmed, moving the wand slightly. “And if you look right here, you’ll see their heartbeat.”

She pointed to a tiny flicker on the screen, and Lando’s breath caught. “Is that… Is that their heart?”

“Yes,” she said warmly. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

“Oh my God,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “That’s them. That’s our baby.”

Lando’s eyes immediately welled up with tears. He blinked rapidly, clearly trying to keep them from falling, but one slipped down his cheek anyway.

You reached up to wipe the tear from his cheek, your own eyes misty. “They’re perfect, aren’t they?”

Then he turned to you with the biggest grin you’d ever seen, his face lighting up like a kid on Christmas morning. “They’ve already got your heart, don’t they?”

“They are,” he said, his voice full of awe.

“And yours,” you added softly, squeezing his hand.

Lando laughed quietly, his free hand running through his hair. “This is insane. Like, actually insane. That’s a real human. Our human. I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you replied, smiling at him. “Just feel it.”

He nodded, his gaze drifting back to the screen. “They’re so small,” he murmured, almost to himself. Then he let out a shaky laugh.

“God, I hope they get your patience. And your smarts. And maybe your taste in music too, because mine’s questionable at best.”

“They’ll be a little bit of both of us,” you said. “The good and the bad.”

“And hopefully less of the bad,” he joked, his smile growing wider. “Although if they’re anything like me, they’ll probably be a little naughty regardless.”

He spent a few moments just staring in silent awe of the ultrasound before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder. “More than okay, Lando. We’re going to be great.”

He asked the tech at least three times if he could get extra printouts of the ultrasound, and as soon as you left the room, he was texting the photo to his parents.

For the rest of the appointment, Lando couldn’t stop staring at the monitor.

“You won’t believe this,” he said excitedly as he hit send. “They’re already perfect. I mean, look at them!”

You laughed, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. “You’re going to be insufferable, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he replied with a grin, slipping the ultrasound photo into his wallet like it was his most prized possession.

—-

His hands were a blur, adjusting every little decoration as if this one cake would determine the future of the entire Norris family.

Lando stood in the kitchen, pacing around the table with the cake in front of him.

He wiped his brow for what felt like the tenth time, clearly worked up.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” Lando asked again, his voice laced with nerves, as he fiddled with the tiny blue and pink ribbons on top of the cake.

You raised an eyebrow, watching him with a grin. “Lando, it’s just cake. I don’t need a fireworks show or a parade. Just let me eat it. We’re finding out if we’re having a mini-me or mini-you today, not the cure for world hunger.”

He looked at you, eyes wide with mock concern. “I know! But this is important, okay? This cake isn’t just cake. It’s the cake that’s gonna reveal if our baby’s gonna have my style or your... I don’t know, your taste in TV shows.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, so my TV shows are the problem now? I seem to remember you binge-watching those ridiculous reality shows last week.”

Lando chuckled, adjusting the cake for the third time. “Fine. But I will not apologize for the occasional guilty pleasure, okay?”

His mom was practically jumping up and down, already holding a bottle of champagne in one hand.

Before you could fire back, there was a knock at the door, and Lando’s parents stormed in, as excited as ever, clearly eager to be part of the big reveal.

“Alright, alright, we ready for this?!” she practically shouted, already bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Lando, you didn’t mess up the cake, did you?”

Lando puffed out his chest, trying to seem cool, but you could tell he was as jittery as a kid before Christmas. “What do you think? I’m a pro. I’ve got this under control.”

His dad leaned in and clapped him on the back with a knowing look. “Sure, sure. It’s just cake, son. Don’t overthink it.”

“Easy for you to say!” Lando replied, rolling his eyes but clearly taking comfort in his dad’s easy confidence.

“Do I need to set up a tent or something for you? I can go grab the calm-down snacks,” his mom teased, already rifling through the bags of baby gifts she had brought with her.

He turned back to the cake, brushing his hands against his jeans as if trying to shake off his nerves. “Right. Big moment.”

Lando gave her a playful glare. “I’m fine, Mom. I’m just...you know, a little excited.”

You crossed your arms, trying to stifle your laughter at the drama of it all. “You know, you’re acting like you’re about to drive the final lap of a Grand Prix, not slice a cake, right?”

Lando shot you a look, half guilty, half defensive. “What do you mean? This is important, okay?”

“Yeah, because the world is watching,” you quipped, leaning against the counter with a grin.

“Absolutely! What if the cake doesn’t come out perfectly? What if it’s not the right color? What if-”

“Lando,” you interrupted with a chuckle, “I’m pretty sure it’ll be okay if it’s not perfect. It’s just a cake.”

He sighed dramatically. “You don’t get it. This is a moment. A huge one! I can’t mess this up.”

(Lando’s parents exchanged amused glances. “He’s got it bad, huh?” his dad whispered to his mom.

“Oh, you don’t even know,” she replied with a wink.)

“You’re really sure you’re not panicking?” you teased, nudging him, raising an eyebrow.

Lando flashed you a grin. “Nope. I’ve totally got it handled. This is the most important moment of our lives, and I’m... handling it.”

The cake, a simple vanilla sponge with soft pastel decorations, sat in front of you all like a ticking clock. Lando’s hands hovered above it, shaking slightly as he gripped the knife.

The room filled up with laughter and chatter as family and friends settled into their spots, everyone eager to be a part of the big moment.

You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Lando, it’s going to be fine.”

He gave you a nervous smile. “Yeah, I know. I’m just- just a little excited.”

He cut the first slice carefully, holding his breath. His eyes darted between the cake and you, trying to gauge the moment, the color, the reaction.

“Is it-” Lando’s mom leaned forward, eager and almost bouncing in her seat. “Is it blue or pink?”

His hands trembled for a moment, and then, without warning, his lips curled into a grin so wide it could have lit up the whole room.

When Lando saw the blue filling spill out from the cake, it was like a switch flipped inside him.

He threw his arms up in the air, as if he’d just crossed the finish line, his chest puffing out like he’d just clinched a Grand Prix victory.

“I’ve got a son! A SON! I’m gonna be a dad to a little boy!” he exclaimed, his voice rising in a playful tone, as if he was addressing a crowd at a podium.

“YES!” he yelled, his voice carrying the excitement and relief of a race win. He even did a little fist pump, completely caught up in the moment, forgetting the cake still had to be served.

His family burst into laughter, but Lando didn't care. He was riding high on the adrenaline of the moment, his face flushed with joy. He turned to you, eyes wide and sparkling, as if the world had just handed him the greatest trophy imaginable.

“Lando, you’re not actually racing a Grand Prix right now,” you said, your laughter shaking your voice. “You don’t need to act like you just won Monaco!”

Lando paused for a split second, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, but I am! This is my Monaco moment!”

—-

Before your son arrived, the two of you spent countless hours brainstorming names, debating, and laughing at your ideas, the excitement of becoming parents finally hitting both of you.

Lando, sprawled beside you with his laptop open, occasionally paused to glance at you, a goofy grin on his face.

You sat on the couch in the private suite, your legs curled up underneath you as you flicked through baby name books.

“You know what would be funny?” Lando said, his eyes lighting up. “If we named him after a race track. Like, Monaco or Spa.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused but skeptical. “Monaco? Really? We’re naming our kid after a place?”

Lando shrugged with a playful grin. “It’s iconic. Imagine saying, ‘This is my son, Spa Norris.’ Sounds like he’s destined to be a Formula 1 champion, right?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, that’s not going to fly. I’m not going to name our son after a race track, Lando.”

He pouted, pretending to be disappointed. “You’re no fun. I thought you’d be into it.”

You shot him a playful look. “Well, if you’re going to go that route, we might as well name him something like 'Aston' or 'Ferrari'.”

Lando dramatically gasped. “Ferrari Norris?” he echoed, as if he’d just had an epiphany. “That actually sounds pretty cool.” He immediately began typing it into his phone. “Imagine the headlines: ‘Little Ferrari Norris shows up at the karting track, stealing the show already.’”

You chuckled, giving him a teasing nudge. “Okay, okay. Let’s put a pin in that one, but seriously, we need something that isn’t a car or a race track. We need to think long-term. He’s not going to be five years old forever.”

Lando sat back, tapping his fingers on the side of his laptop, deep in thought. “How about Maximus? It sounds strong, right?”

You gave him a flat look. “You realize that would just end up as Max, and then we’d have to deal with every comparison to Verstappen and Max, right?”

Lando’s eyes widened slightly as you pointed out the potential issue. He paused, tapping his fingers on the laptop as he processed your words.

“Oh, right,” he said slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Maximus could be a disaster. Imagine our kid being called Max every time. He’ll spend his whole life being compared to Verstappen, and Max.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, not ideal. We’re already in the spotlight enough with you and everything, we don’t need to add fuel to the fire.”

Lando groaned, slouching slightly in his chair. “Okay, so no Maximus. What about... Thor? Sounds strong, right? A god or something.”

You blinked, trying to keep a straight face. “Lando, we're naming our kid, not preparing him for a Marvel movie.”

“I’m just saying,” he grinned, holding his hands up in mock defense. “Thor Norris. Sounds pretty cool, right? Imagine him on the playground.”

“Yeah, until he gets bullied for being named after a thunder god,” you replied with a teasing smile. “We want a name that’s strong, but also, you know, normal.”

Lando sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples. “Why is this so hard? This is supposed to be the fun part!”

“Because you're overthinking it,” you said, leaning over to ruffle his hair. “We don't need to make him sound like a superhero. We need something that suits him, something that feels right.”

Lando scrolled through a few more names on his phone. “What about Leo? You know, like the lion?”

You looked over at him, a thoughtful expression crossing your face. “Leo.. huh, I kind of like that.”

Lando met your gaze, his smile softening. “I do too. It feels strong. But it’s also… warm. I can imagine him growing up with that name.”

“I think that’s the one,” you said softly, your heart warming at the thought of it.

You smiled, already picturing your son, little Leo, chasing after you both in a go-kart, or laughing as he wore his tiny McLaren onesie.

Lando nodded, his voice quieter now. “Leo Norris. Yeah… I like it.”

A mix of excitement and nervous energy filled the air. But above it all, you both felt the quiet, comforting certainty that you’d chosen the right name.

You both sat there for a while, soaking in the reality that soon, you’d have a little one to love and raise.

“Leo Norris,” Lando repeated, his grin returning. “You’re going to be so cool, little guy.”

—-

By the time the baby’s due date was right around the corner, Lando had practically perfected the art of juggling his high-pressure career with impending fatherhood.

He FaceTimed you every chance he got during race weekends, even if it was just for a few minutes, to check in and ask how you and the baby were doing.

Every call was an opportunity for him to make silly faces at your growing belly, as if your unborn child could already understand what he was doing.

“How’s my little team doing today?” Lando asked, his face beaming from the screen, grinning like a kid with a secret.

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘little team’? It’s still just one person, you know.”

He paused, holding his hands up as though giving you a game plan. “It’s all about the future, babe. Right now, it’s just me and you, but soon, we’re gonna have our first real team member. And I’m gonna be the best team principal there ever was.” He winked, clearly enjoying the idea.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Uh-huh. Sure. First, you have to figure out how to change a diaper before you’re giving out performance reviews.”

Lando's grin faded slightly, and his expression became more serious. “I can change a tire under pressure, but... a diaper? You’re sure I’m gonna be okay with that?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You’ve changed car tires with a stopwatch ticking down. A diaper is like... one percent of the stress.”

Lando scratched his head, clearly still not totally convinced. “Yeah, but there’s a lot more wiggle with a baby than with a tire.”

You chuckled, hearing the nerves in his voice despite his usual cocky demeanor. “I’m sure you’ll manage. You’re gonna be a great dad. Besides, how bad can it be? Worst-case scenario, we just put him in a McLaren onesie and call it a day.”

Lando’s eyes lit up. “Wait, does McLaren make baby clothes?” he asked, suddenly distracted, pulling out his phone.

You sighed, trying not to laugh. “Focus, Lando, the baby comes first, not McLaren merch.”

He was too busy scrolling through his phone, searching for baby-sized McLaren gear. “Just imagine! Tiny little race suits! Our kid’s first proper race suit! It’ll be legendary*”

But he didn’t hear you.

You smirked. “Right, because that’s all a baby needs, to be decked out in McLaren gear. A future world champion and fashion icon.”

Lando nodded seriously, still scrolling. “Exactly. The sooner they start looking the part, the sooner they’ll feel the pressure to deliver.”

You shook your head, your lips curving into a smile. “You’re definitely going to spoil this kid rotten.”

“I’m just preparing them for greatness!” Lando declared, his voice mock-serious. “Besides, they’re going to have someone to look up to.”

You laughed, a soft teasing tone in your voice. “You mean you? The guy who keeps asking me if he’ll be cool enough for a toddler?”

Lando looked at you, eyebrows furrowing with mock panic. “I just want them to think I’m cool, okay? What if they’re disappointed? What if they grow up to think I’m just some guy who drives a car really fast and wears too many McLaren hats?”

You snorted, not even trying to hide your amusement. “Lando, you drive a Formula 1 car for a living. I think you’ll manage to impress a toddler.”

“Yeah, well, toddlers are tough critics,” he muttered, flopping back onto his bed. “What if they want a cooler dad? Like, what if they see some famous soccer player or something and think he’s way cooler than their dad?”

“Lando, the kid isn’t even born yet, and you’re already stressing about being the coolest parent?” You shook your head, trying to hold back laughter. “Relax. You’re gonna be the coolest dad, hands down.”

“You really think so?” Lando asked, his tone suddenly turning sincere, a soft smile curling his lips.

“Absolutely,” you replied, your voice full of confidence. “You’re gonna be amazing. And anyway, when they get older, they'll think you're the coolest just because you drive an F1 car. That’s literally a dream job for kids.”

Lando smiled at you through the screen, clearly reassured. “Alright, alright. I can live with that.” He paused for a moment, his

“I’m gonna train them up. Baby steps, right? First, it’s McLaren onesies. Then, they’ll be driving go-karts by five.”

—-

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I think you’ve got a few years before that happens, buddy.”

You watched him from the couch, amused by how obviously he was working up the courage to say something.

Lando had been pacing the living room for what felt like hours, his hands in his hair and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Finally, unable to take his fidgeting any longer, you set your book down and raised an eyebrow at him.

“Alright, spill it,” you said, crossing your arms.

He stopped pacing, turning to you with a sheepish grin. “Okay, don’t get mad, but… can I tell Carlos?”

You blinked at him, confused. “Tell Carlos what?”

“The baby!” Lando blurted, throwing his hands in the air. “I swear I won’t say anything to anyone else, but I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t tell someone. And Carlos, he’s my best mate in the paddock, you know? and I feel like I’m going to burst if I don’t tell someone. He’s good at keeping secrets! Remember when I told him about… well, you know…”

You smirked. “The time you accidentally spilled coffee all over Zak’s favorite race notes and blamed the wind?”

Lando groaned, running a hand through his curls. “Yes, that! He didn’t tell anyone!”

He leaned in closer, his big, pleading eyes locking onto yours. “Please, love. I need someone to talk to about this in the paddock. I promise it’ll stay between me and him. And you, of course. You’re the boss.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head with a smile.

“But adorable?” he pressed, grinning mischievously.

You laughed, shaking your head at his antics. “Alright, alright. You can tell Carlos. But only Carlos. If I see headlines about ‘Baby Norris’ next week, I’m blaming you.”

Lando let out a victorious whoop, throwing his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You won’t regret this, I promise! I’ll handle it perfectly.”

“Uh-huh,” you teased. “Just don’t come crying to me if he accidentally tells the entire grid.”

“He won’t!” Lando assured you, already pulling out his phone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Spaniard to swear into secrecy.”

—-

He’d pulled you aside earlier on, his brow furrowed in a mix of excitement and concern.

Lando, despite his enthusiasm around friends and family, had always been the type to keep his personal life as far away from the media as possible, especially when it came to you and your pregnancy.

“I just want to protect you from all that stress, love,” he’d said softly, his hands resting on your shoulders. “The media’s only gonna make everything harder. Let’s keep it to ourselves and family and friends until we’re ready.”

So, you kept things under wraps, avoiding public appearances and letting Lando handle the media while you focused on your health and well-being.

You’d agreed, knowing his intention was to shield you from any unnecessary pressure.

At first, you’d manage to sneak in a few appearances, sitting in the background, away from the cameras. But soon, you started pulling back even more, skipping races altogether. The tabloids, however, didn’t miss a beat.

But as your pregnancy progressed and your bump started to show, it became harder to stay out of the public eye.

You could practically see the frustration building in him. He was giving off full-on whiny vibes, and you couldn't help but smirk at how ridiculous the whole thing seemed.

Lando was pacing back and forth in your living room, muttering to himself as he read through the latest batch of articles about him and your supposed divorce.

“I swear, they’ve completely lost their minds!” Lando groaned, throwing his phone down onto the couch with a dramatic flair. “What do they mean we’re getting divorced? Have they seen you? Why would I ever, ever, let you go?”

You leaned back on the couch, trying to keep your composure as he began pacing again. “Lando, calm down. It’s just the media. They love making stuff up.”

“No, it’s not just the media!” he whined, stopping mid-pacing to stare at you. “This is serious! They think I’m out here with a divorce like that’s even a thing. I’m happily married! You’re at home growing our kid, not plotting some dramatic breakup!”

You tried to hold back your laugh, but Lando’s whining was getting funnier by the second. “Babe, seriously, it’s not the end of the world. You’re acting like the tabloids are going to come for us with pitchforks.”

“I’m just trying to figure out how they got this idea. I’m not... like, I’m not perfect, but come on! Look at you! You’re gorgeous, and we’re over here living our best life, why would I ever let you go?”

“I’m just-” He paused, running his hands through his hair like he was about to pull it out.

You grinned, giving him a teasing side-eye. “Aww, are you saying I’m too good for you?”

Lando froze, turning to you with wide eyes. “No! I mean, yes, but no!” He huffed dramatically, flopping down onto the couch next to you. “You’re perfect! You’re the perfect wife! And you’re the one who makes everything better, and now they’re out here saying I’m getting divorced? No! That’s not how this works!”

You reached over, resting your hand on his, trying to hold back your own laughter. “Lando, babe, it’s just rumors. People are bored. They don’t know anything, and they’re making stuff up. Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it? How am I supposed to ignore this? They’re making me look like the worst husband in the world! Divorce? I’ve been married for, like, what, five minutes? And now I’m already getting a bad rep? This is ridiculous!”

He looked at you like you’d just suggested the impossible.

You snorted, finally giving in to the humor of the situation. “Okay, okay, so how are you planning to fix it? Go out there and shout from the rooftops?”

Lando sighed heavily, clearly still upset. “I don’t know! Maybe I should just do an entire press conference. ‘Hello, everyone, just in case there was any doubt, I’m not divorced! I’m happily married! And I’m going home to my gorgeous wife and our baby, who will totally not grow up to be a Formula 1 driver, I promise.’”

You couldn’t stop laughing now. “Babe, just post a picture of us and say ‘Still happily married’ that’ll do the trick.”

Lando groaned in frustration. “But why do I have to do that? Why can’t people just know? It’s like they’ve forgotten what happiness looks like. They’re just out here making up stories!”

You patted his leg, smiling fondly at him. “You’re cute when you get worked up, you know that?”

He shot you a look. “I’m serious! This is outrageous. I swear, if I see one more headline about our ‘divorce,’ I’m gonna lose it.”

“Alright, alright,” you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Calm down. It’s just noise. We know what’s real.”

Lando pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m not a fan of this noise. It’s too much, and I just want to be left alone to focus on being an amazing husband and father. Is that too much to ask?”

You smiled, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “No, love. It’s not too much to ask. But maybe, just maybe, try to ignore the headlines for once?”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll try. But if they start talking about me again... I’m calling a press conference.”

—-

Lando had just finished a grueling race, his face flushed with exertion but still carrying that unmistakable grin.

He was on cloud nine, but he could already sense the usual flood of media around him. It was never just about the race with him, it was always about something else, something personal.

As he was making his way to the interview zone, one journalist, eager to get the scoop, stepped in front of him with a grin.

The media had taken their guesses and spun them into wild stories. He had kept quiet for as long as possible, but today, something inside him snapped.

“Lando, congratulations on the win! How’s everything going with your wife? We’ve heard a lot of speculation recently, some rumors flying around about your relationship. Can you clear that up for us?”

Lando froze mid-step, his brow furrowing. The questions about his relationship with you had been relentless recently, but this, this was the last straw.

He glanced over at his PR team, who were silently freaking out in the background, and then he turned back to the reporter, a small, sarcastic smirk pulling at his lips. “Yeah, here’s the thing.”

“Rumors?” Lando repeated, voice low but filled with frustration.

He paused, taking a deep breath. His hands were shaking from the adrenaline of the race, but his eyes were laser-focused on the reporter.

“Here’s the thing,” Lando said again, this time louder, looking directly into the camera, “I’m going to give a shout-out to my beautiful wife right now, and to hell with everyone else. To all the tabloids, the rumors, and the people making things up… fuck you. I love my wife. She’s amazing. We’re happy. Now, can we get back to the racing?”

The crowd of reporters and cameras around him seemed to freeze for a moment, unsure of how to react to his sudden outburst.

Lando’s eyes burned with a mixture of frustration and determination as he stood there, refusing to back down.

“Seriously,” he continued, his voice steadier now, but still tinged with that raw intensity, “I’ve kept quiet for as long as I can. I get it, you want the drama, you want the headlines.”

He glanced around at the sea of microphones pointed at him, his gaze intense. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the hum of distant chatter.

“But I’m here to race,” he added, his jaw clenched. “So, let me make it clear. My wife and I are doing great. I’m not hiding anything from anyone. The only thing I’m focused on is the fact that I just finished on a podium position, and that's what matters.”

For a moment, he allowed himself to breathe, his chest still rising and falling from the aftershocks of the race and the adrenaline of the moment.

The reporter, still holding the microphone, looked almost shocked by Lando’s outburst, but before they could get another word in, Lando raised his hand, cutting them off.

“I’ve had enough,” he said firmly. “So here’s the deal. To everyone who wants to keep spreading rumors or digging into our lives. Don’t. And to my wife, if you’re watching this, I love you. You’re incredible.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then, with a final glance at the camera, Lando broke into a grin.

“And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a celebration to get to. See you at the next race.”

With that, he turned, walking away from the reporters, leaving them dumbfounded and speechless. His PR team scrambled behind him, clearly trying to catch up and figure out how to spin this into something less... explosive, but Lando wasn’t having it.

He was done with the noise, done with the rumors. And if the media wanted a story, they could have that one because he wasn’t hiding his love for you, and he wasn’t going to let anyone tell a different story.

Back in the paddock, as he made his way toward the celebration, he pulled out his phone, sending you a quick text: “Hey, I may have just lost my cool on live TV but don’t worry, it was for you. Love you always 🧡”

As soon as the text sent, Lando couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

—-

You didn’t have a chance to misinterpret anything when you were bombarded by videos of Lando’s recent stunt by your friends and family.

When you saw the text pop up on your phone, you blinked at it for a moment, reading it over a few times to make sure you weren’t misinterpreting things.

You froze.

The sheer audacity of him, of his love for you, left you speechless for a moment.

This was a whole other level. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, a combination of shock and amusement.

Of course, Lando had always been passionate, always been the kind of person who wasn’t afraid to stand up for what mattered to him. But this?

You immediately hit the video call button, your heart racing.

When his face appeared on the screen, he was still beaming with that grin he wore after a good race, sweaty, glowing, and impossibly handsome.

But then, his eyes widened when he saw the expression on your face.

“What?” he asked, still out of breath from the race, his grin fading a little. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You couldn’t help yourself. “Lando Norris,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “did you just… tell everyone to fuck off on live TV?!”

His eyes grew comically wide, and he immediately slapped a hand to his forehead, groaning dramatically as if he was ashamed of his actions. “I swear I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, you didn’t mean to?!” you interrupted, laughing uncontrollably, clutching your stomach from how hard you were giggling. “Lando, that was literally a full-on ‘fuck you’ to the media! And you said it was for me?!”

He flushed, sheepish but still trying to hide his growing smile. “Look, okay, I was just- uh- tired of the rumors, alright? And when they asked about you- about us- I just kind of... lost it. I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to make sure they all knew how much I love you. How happy we are.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, still laughing, wiping a tear from your eye. “You’re really doing a great job of showing that. It was the most Lando Norris thing you could’ve done!”

Lando leaned back against the wall, clearly embarrassed but still that familiar, playful Lando you knew and loved. “I didn’t think it’d go that far,” he muttered, but then his grin returned. “But you know what? Fuck it. They can say what they want.”

You let out a breath, finally calming down, though you were still grinning. “You are such a dork,” you said, shaking your head with affection. “But I love you for it. Seriously. I never thought I’d be watching you on TV yelling at the media like that.”

He puffed out his chest, doing a little dramatic bow. “What can I say? I’m just a man in love.”

“I’m starting to think you’re also a man who has no filter,” you teased, leaning in closer to the screen. “But I can’t deny, it’s kind of… hot.”

Lando’s cheeks flushed at that, and he let out a chuckle. “Oh, now you’re really making me blush. I can’t believe I just did that...”

“You definitely made a statement,” you said, the smile still playing on your lips. “The whole world now knows you’re not just a great driver- you're a very passionate husband, apparently. Also, good luck with your PR team after that one.”

“Oh, they’re probably freaking out right now,” Lando said with a knowing grin. “But hey, at least I got to make things clear.”

You paused for a moment, letting his words settle. “You know what, Lando? I really appreciate it. I know the media can be overwhelming, and I’m glad you’re doing what you can to protect us, even if it means embarrassing yourself a little. But just... maybe next time? You could, I don’t know, use a little less profanity?”

“Right,” he said, nodding seriously. “Next time, I’ll scream it in sign language. Less dramatic, more subtle.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with affection. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” he grinned. “But I’m your impossible.”

—-

The grueling months of races, travel, and endless media commitments were finally over, and he was about to have a few weeks of uninterrupted time with you and the baby.

When the end of the racing season finally rolled around, Lando could hardly contain his excitement.

The weight of the season had been heavy, and now that it was over, he felt like he could breathe again, and it felt amazing.

The moment he heard the announcement that the season was officially over, his excitement bubbled over. He was practically buzzing with anticipation, his usual calm and collected persona giving way to a wide, ear-to-ear grin.

For weeks leading up to the last race, Lando had been counting down the days.

It was as if the pressure of racing and all the responsibilities had just melted away, and he was ready to dive straight into a new kind of excitement, one that involved a lot more time at home with you.

You were sitting on the couch, relaxing after your own busy day, scrolling through your phone, when you heard the familiar sound of

Lando’s boots hitting the floor. He was almost running, and his footsteps were light and fast, as if he couldn’t wait to see you.

Without a second thought, he rushed over to where you were sitting, scooping you up into his arms like you weighed nothing at all. He spun you around once, a burst of laughter escaping his lips.

“Babe!” he shouted, throwing his bag down with abandon, his voice practically singing with happiness.

“I’m home, I’m home, I’m home!” he repeated, his grin so wide it almost seemed to stretch across his face.

“I’m more than happy,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with joy. “I’m ecstatic. Finally, a break. No planes, no races, no media, just me, you, and... well, you know, our little one,” he added, glancing down at your belly with a soft smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh as his excitement flooded the room, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Well, I can tell you’re happy about the season being over," you teased, giving him a playful look as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Sounds perfect,” you said, feeling the love in his words. “I think we both deserve a break.”

Lando nodded enthusiastically. “I can’t wait to just be home with you. I’ve missed so much of this year, and now I get to make up for it. I’ve got so many plans. We can do all the things we’ve been talking about, prepare the nursery, take walks together, have breakfast in bed, watch terrible movies... you know, all the usual relaxing stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his enthusiasm. “Breakfast in bed every day, huh? That’s a bold claim.”

“I’m up for the challenge,” he grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m making the most of this time. No more rushing around, no more stress. Just time with you, our little one, and whatever chaos we manage to create together.”

He flopped down onto the couch beside you, pulling you in closer. His hand found its way to your growing belly, and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he gently placed his hand there. “I’m so ready for this next chapter, you know? I know the last few months have been crazy, but this... this is going to be perfect.”

—-

Soft, neutral tones, sleek furniture that didn’t scream “baby” but still felt warm and inviting, and subtle touches of personality like a tiny McLaren-themed mobile hanging above the crib.

Lando stood in the middle of the nearly-finished nursery, hands on his hips, looking ridiculously proud of himself. The room was stunning.

“You know,” he said, turning to you with a grin, “I think I’ve outdone myself. Custom everything. No IKEA in sight. You’re welcome.”

“You do realize you’ve spent more on this room than most people spend on their entire house, right?”

You raised an eyebrow from where you were sitting on the plush nursery chair he’d insisted be upholstered with "only the softest fabric money can buy."

He scoffed, gesturing at the solid oak crib. “This bad boy? Handmade by some guy in Sweden who’s apparently a genius with wood. And the changing table? Designed by an actual ergonomist! No sore backs for us.”

He shot you a mock-offended look. “Excuse me for wanting the best for our baby. It’s called quality assurance.”

You tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t help laughing. “Lando, it’s a baby. They’re not going to care if their crib is custom-made or from IKEA. They’ll drool on it all the same.”

He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Excuse me! Our baby deserves the best! The absolute best. I’m not about to put our kid in some flimsy crib where one tantrum could bring it down.”

“Pretty sure you’re the only one throwing tantrums right now,” you teased.

He ignored you, walking over to the rocking chair and giving it an experimental sway. “This chair, by the way? Perfect for late-night story time. I tested at least twenty before I found the one.”

“You sat in twenty rocking chairs?”

“Of course,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What if I’d chosen one that squeaked or wasn’t comfy enough for cuddles? I’m thinking ahead, love.”

“Thinking ahead is spending three months’ salary on a nursery?”

“And it’s not just the furniture. Look at the details. That mobile? Custom order. The wallpaper? Hand-painted by some artist in Italy. Even the shelves are organized by height so the books will be easier to grab when the baby’s older. I’m not messing around.”

“Investment,” he corrected, plopping down beside you with a satisfied sigh.

You shook your head, still smiling. “It’s beautiful, Lando. Really. You’ve done an amazing job.”

“Of course I have,” he said smugly, leaning back. But after a moment, his expression softened. “I just… I want everything to be perfect, you know? For them. For you. I want this room to feel safe and special and like… like a little haven.”

Your heart melted as you reached out to take his hand. “It already does, babe. It’s perfect because you made it with love.”

“Also with a ridiculous amount of money,” he added, flashing you a cheeky grin.

You laughed. “That, too.”

Lando leaned down to kiss your forehead, his voice full of affection. “Anything for you two. Now, all that’s left is to teach the baby to say ‘McLaren’ before anything else.”

You laughed, pulling back to give him a playful shove. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Fine,” he said with a wink. “Second word, then.”

—-

When the day finally came, Lando was fresh off a meeting with his team, when your water broke in the middle of your living room.

“Now?” he yelped, nearly dropping the cup of tea he’d just handed you. His wide, panicked eyes darted between you and the puddle forming at your feet. “It’s happening now?”

“Yes, Lando, now!” you snapped, clutching your belly as another contraction hit.

He spun in circles for a moment, muttering to himself, “Keys, keys, where did I- oh, my God, this is happening.”

“Lando!” you barked, cutting through his panic.

“Yes, yes! Okay! Keys! Bag! You!” He grabbed the hospital bag you’d packed weeks ago, slung it over one shoulder, then hesitated. “Wait, do you need me to carry you? Should I-”

“Just get me to the car!”

In record time, he managed to get you into the passenger seat, though not without fumbling with your seatbelt for what felt like an eternity.

“I race cars for a living,” he muttered to himself, hands trembling as he buckled you in. “Why is this harder than a pit stop?”

“Because a pit stop doesn’t scream at you every five minutes,” you shot back, gripping the door handle as another contraction rippled through your body.

---

At the hospital, Lando was a walking ball of nerves. He practically burst into the maternity ward, announcing to the nurses, “My wife’s having a baby! Right now! Like, right now!”

One of the nurses calmly guided you to a room, giving Lando a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “First-time dad?” she asked with a knowing smile.

“Is it that obvious?” he mumbled, following behind like a lost puppy.

Inside the delivery room, Lando couldn’t sit still. He paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. “Are they supposed to take this long? Shouldn’t someone check on her again? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Lando,” you groaned through clenched teeth. “But if you don’t stop pacing, I might strangle you before this baby gets here.”

He froze mid-step, holding his hands up in surrender. “Right. No pacing. Got it. I’ll just... stand here.”

Once he could actually think past his panic, Lando immediately whipped out his phone, his fingers fumbling over the screen as he dialed his parents. The phone barely rang once before his mom answered.

“Lando? Everything okay?” her voice was calm but laced with concern, likely from the sheer urgency of his call.

“Mum! She’s in labor!” Lando practically shouted into the phone, his words tumbling out at record speed. “Like, actual labor. Right now. We’re at the hospital. It’s happening!”

“Oh, Lando, that’s wonderful!” his mom exclaimed, her tone immediately switching to excitement. “How is she? How are you?”

“She’s... well, she’s in labor!” Lando replied, running a hand through his already tousled curls. “I think she’s fine, but I don’t know! She might be mad at me for pacing too much. I stopped though. Well, sort of. Anyway, can you and Dad get here? Like, now?”

“We’re on our way, love,” she reassured him with a laugh.

By the time his parents arrived, just minutes later, Lando’s initial excitement had given way to full-blown panic. He was sitting in the corner of the room, staring at his hands, muttering under his breath.

“Do you think the baby will like me? What if they don’t like me? What if I’m a terrible dad? Oh my God, I forgot to pack snacks! What kind of dad forgets snacks?”

His parents stepped into the room, his mom taking one look at him and immediately placing a hand on his shoulder. “Lando, breathe,” she said gently, her eyes crinkling with amusement.

He jumped up at their arrival, waving his hands around. “I can’t breathe, Mum! Do you know how much responsibility this is? I’m going to be someone’s dad! What if I drop the baby? What if I don’t hold them right? Or they cry every time they see me? I-”

His dad cut him off with a firm but comforting hand on his back. “You’re going to be fine, son. You’ve got this.”

Lando looked over at you, lying on the hospital bed, still managing to roll your eyes at his dramatics despite the situation. “Does she think I’ve got this?” he asked, gesturing to you.

You groaned, partly from the contraction and partly from his antics. “Lando, if you don’t stop spiraling, I’ll personally make sure you get kicked out of this delivery room.”

His mom laughed, stepping closer to you. “She’s got it under control, doesn’t she?”

“She always does,” Lando muttered, his wide eyes darting between you and the monitors. “But what if I’m not ready, Mum?” he whispered, leaning closer to his mother as if it were a secret.

His mom reached up, brushing a curl from his forehead. “You’ll be ready when you see your baby for the first time, Lando. Trust me. You’ve already proven you’ll do whatever it takes to be a great dad. Now stop worrying and be there for your wife.”

Lando nodded, taking a deep breath and straightening up. Then he turned to you with newfound determination. “Okay. What do you need, love? Water? Ice chips? A—”

“A calm husband,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Right,” he said, nodding rapidly. “Calm husband. Got it.”

And for the next two minutes, he actually managed to stay calm. Until the nurse walked in and said, “Alright, it’s time to push.”

Then all bets were off.

---

When your son (your son!) finally arrived after hours of labor, the world seemed to pause. Lando stood frozen as one of the nurses handed him the tiny, swaddled baby. His hands shook as he cradled Leo against his chest, staring down at him in awe.

His aquamarine eyes were wide as he stared down at the newborn. “Wow,” he whispered, his voice shaky. “He’s... so small. Like, really small. Are we sure he’s okay?”

“Lando, he’s a baby,” you said, exasperated but smiling, the exhaustion hitting you in waves. “They’re supposed to be small.”

“Yeah, but this small?” he asked, carefully holding Leo as if he were made of glass. He glanced at the nurse for reassurance. “Is this normal? What if I break him?”

The nurse chuckled. “You won’t, Mr. Norris. Just make sure to support his head, and you’ll be fine.”

“Support his head,” Lando repeated, adjusting his grip like he was handling the most fragile trophy in the world. Then he looked down at your son again, a mixture of awe and terror on his face. “Hey, little guy,” he murmured. “It’s, uh... it’s me. Your dad. I’m new at this, so, uh, go easy on me, yeah?”

You laughed softly, despite the ache in your body. “He’s not going to grade you, Lando.”

“Good, because I’m already giving myself a D+,” he muttered, carefully sitting beside you on the hospital bed.

Lando looked up at you, his eyes glassy. “You did so good,” he said softly. “So, so good. Thank you for... for him.”

As the tiny bundle in his arm let out a tiny whimper, Lando instinctively rocked him, whispering, “Shh, mate, it’s okay. Daddy’s got you.”

“You’re a natural,” the nurse commented, smiling as she adjusted your blankets.

“Really?” Lando glanced up, his grin sheepish but full of pride. “Because I feel like I’m one wrong move away from dropping him.”

“You won’t,” you reassured him, reaching out to touch his arm. “You’re already amazing.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the amazing one. I mean, you just made a person. How insane is that?”

As he sat beside you, still holding him as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

You rested your head against his shoulder, watching as he studied every tiny feature of Leo’s face. “He’s got my eyes,” he murmured, awed.

“And your gap-toothed smile too, probably,” you teased.

He chuckled, brushing a fingertip gently over Leo’s tiny hand. “That’s not a bad thing. He’ll be unstoppable. Just wait until he sees his first go-kart.”

#lando x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris #lando imagine #lando x you #ln4 x y/n #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #x reader

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cheolaholic · 2 days ago

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ring of love; csc (09)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

chapter warnings: stalking, creep behaviour, reader receives an inappropriate package, mentions of Richard Ramirez, mentions of a threesome.

a/n;; AND WE ARE BACK TO UPLOADING BABY!! Have an early Christmas Gift <33

Something feels… off – that was the best way you could put it. A few months have passed since you started your part-time job at the cafe, but you can’t help but shake off a sense of uneasiness. You couldn’t really put a finger on it, but it’s as though someone was watching you; maybe even following you.

You feel a pair of eyes wherever you go around campus, sometimes even up to the front door of your apartment’s main entrance. It can’t have been Seungcheol or either of the boys because while Mingyu and Vernon had done an absolute shit job at “keeping a close eye” on you; you knew they would never go to such lengths to cause you such discomfort.

“Nonnie?”

“‘Sup?”

You were both sitting in the cafeteria with Vernon halfway through his food while you were poking at the sad excuse of a meatloaf. “What would you do if you felt as though someone is following you everywhere?” Vernon’s ears perked at the implication that you may be dealing with a stalker, becoming alert as he gave you his attention. “Have you seen the guy?” he asked, growing worried when you shook your head.

“When did it start?”

You shift a little in your seat, “I don’t know… Maybe a few weeks after getting that job at the cafe?”

Vernon frowns. He knew you were pretty, hell, that was the reason why several boys from his major came up to him to try and get your number. He’d always reject, saying that he wasn’t comfortable giving out your number so easily; or that if they wanted your number, they should grow a pair of balls and ask you themselves. But, he’d never think that someone would go as far as stalking you.

“Have you told Seungcheol about this?”

“He… He’s still avoiding me…” you mutter sadly, “I mean, yeah, he does reply to my texts and he even gave me the study materials I needed for my exams; but… y’know, he’s still being avoidant…”

‘Damn… It’s been months and he’s still hung up on that wet dream.’

“But, he should at least know this is going on, right?”

You shake your head again. You recall the many times Seungcheol has gotten you out of trouble, or gotten himself into trouble for you while growing up. While he brushes it off as something he’d do for you in a heartbeat, you can’t help but feel as though you were burdening him. You remembered there was one time you had accidentally broken one of his mother’s China, you were maybe 10 years-old?

Your parents had gone on a short business trip to New York and thus, you stayed with the Chois. You had accidentally bumped into a chair and the plate fell out of your grasp. Seungcheol took the blame for you, telling his parents he wasn’t looking when he set the table. He had gotten an earful from his parents, telling him he should’ve been more careful because the broken shards could’ve hurt you.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Cheollie? I-It was my fault, why are you–”

“I know, pup. But, whatever trouble you might get in, I’ll always bail you out, yeah?”

“But–”

“No ‘buts’, pup. I’ll protect you no matter how big or small the mess is.”

“Look, ___, I don’t know what’s making you think you’re a liability,” Vernon pauses to take a sip of his orange juice, “Because based on my observation, Jesus, I sound like Wonwoo hyung now… But, based on my observation, he’s more than willing to do anything for you. Study materials, late night snacks, emergency pad runs – he never says no to you.”

When you suggest that he may be doing it because he feels a sense of responsibility towards you, that he’s spent a majority of his life looking out for you; thus he’s compelled to do so even when you’re an adult, Vernon dismisses it immediately. “Look, I’ve seen Seungcheol hyung with some of the girls he’s dated. Sure, he does the usual boyfriend duties but, I don’t think he’s ever been as doting on them as he is with you.”

You look back down at your uneaten cafeteria food, feeling your appetite leave the more you stare at it. “You aren’t a liability, ___. Cheol cares for you like you mean the world to him.” You sigh as you set the fork down, pushing the tray of food away from you. “Maybe I’ll tell him if things go too far… You know any good food spots that’s still affordable? The cafeteria food today is just… nasty… I don’t know how you managed to eat this?”

“Oh, you got the meatloaf surprise,” he answers and motions you to follow him, “I usually go for the chicken katsu or jjajangmyeon! Not the best, but they’re sure as hell better than the meatloaf.”

“Speaking from experience, I presume?”

“Girlie, I had the worst food poisoning in my entire life! Anyways, have you heard of this Open Mic the school’s planning to host?”

“This assignment requires you to work in pairs,” your professor announced, “And, I’ve done you all a favour by choosing your partners for you.”

The class groans, you included as you cross your fingers and beg the Academic Gods to give you a reliable partner. “I understand that you’d all don’t want to get paired with someone whose work ethic you aren’t familiar with, but believe me when I say that it wouldn’t kill you to work with others.”

You continue to chant your prayers quietly as she begins to read out the names. “Lee ___ and Lee Chan.”

You let out a sigh of relief. You’ve worked with Chan for a group project while you were both freshmen and you’ve mentally noted him as one of the more reliable classmates. Though, your course doesn’t require you to do much group projects so that freshmen project was the first and last time you’ve interacted with, until now that is. Chan gently knocks the empty desk space next to you to pull you out of your train of thought.

“___, right?” he asked, a big smile on his lips as he took a seat next to you, “We were in that one project two years ago, right?”

You let out a small laugh, “That’s me and yes, we were.”

“I’ve seen you around campus with Hansol and a few other seniors! You work at that cafe near campus too, right? How’s the job treating you?”

‘That’s… a lot of questions…’ you think to yourself. But, you politely answered his question anyway. You tell him how you never knew cafes put so much sugar in their drinks until you started working, leading you to order your drinks with less sugar. “The pastries are freshly baked, too! I don’t know where news or rumours of them being leftovers or stored overnight came from, but they aren’t.”

You notice how Chan leans in slightly, his eyes scanning your face.

“Y’know, you’re actually prettier up close.”

His statement… To say it weirded you out would be an understatement – you were creeped the fuck out. Could he be the guy that’s been giving you the heebie-jeebies as of late? You sure hope so, or maybe not. But, either way, you tried to brush off the anxiety that’s beginning to rise in your chest.

“T-Thanks…?”

Chan opens up his laptop, tapping on a few keys on the keyboard and moments later, you receive a small text from the chatroom of the platform your school uses. “I sent you a link to a Google Doc! We could just write out our parts and brainstorm how we can link them together once we’re done!”

You nod your head, clicking into the link.

“Do you live nearby, ___?”

“Mmm… No, I actually commute to school. Occasionally, Vernon would pick me up from Sujeong Central since it’s a five minute walk from my apartment.”

It takes you a moment to realise you’ve just exposed your residential address. When Chan asks if it’d be okay to go back to your place to discuss the assignment, you reject immediately. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound rude or harsh,” you explained, “I’m just uncomfortable with having people I’m not familiar or close with over at my house.”

The boy nods in understanding, muttering a small apology before turning his attention to the professor as she explains the assignment.

Mingyu and Wonwoo leaned against the former’s black 2022 Genesis G90. You were working your night shift and the group, excluding Seungcheol, have taken it amongst themselves to be your personal bodyguards. They’d drive you home if you’d work the night shift, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe and not having anyone trailing you.

“Any luck in finding out who this creep could be?” Mingyu asks, looking into the windows of the cafe and returns the small wave you gave him.

“So far, zero,” the older replies, “Whoever this creep is, they’re good at covering their tracks or not being caught.”

“Do you think they’re from our university?”

“Given the location of this cafe, I’d say yes. But, we also have to factor in the dodginess of her residential area.”

“Do you think we’d catch this guy? I honestly hate seeing ___ getting so worked up over this…”

“We just need more time.”

Lost in their conversation, the two men failed to notice you picking up a box on one of the cafe tables. There was a printed paper stuck on it, stating that it was a little gift addressed to you. You thought it was cute, a customer having a crush on their barista like in the movies or books you’ve read. But, when you opened it – it was far from a romantic gesture. Mingyu noticed you frozen in place, a look of fear on your face as you stared into the box in your hand.

Nudging Wonwoo, they entered the cafe and approached you to ask what was wrong. When the older male peeks into the box, he immediately grabs it to set it aside. “Do you remember who sat here?” he asks.

You shook your head. It had been a busy day and with the amount of customers coming in and out, the crowd just blended in together; and why would you remember the face of a random stranger?

Mingyu continues to comfort you as the older begin to examine the contents of the box – several pictures of you around campus and in the cafe were printed out, alongside a pair of… men’s underwear. ‘With men like these existing, it’s no wonder why women choose bears,’ he thinks to himself, remembering the hot internet debate a few months prior.

“Do you still want to go home?” he asks as closes the box, “I’ll hold onto these until we catch the bastard.”

When you shake your head, they suggest you stay over at their place for the time being. “Are you sure? I mean, that’s nice of you both to offer me that, but I don’t want to –”

“Mingyu hasn’t been bringing girls in since hell week of his semester started,” Wonwoo adds, allowing you to resume your closing shift, “He’s cleared up his schedule too, so you’re safe from hearing two or more models having sex.”

“And, what about you?” you questioned, “I remember Cheollie mentioning you both had a threesome before.”

The man only shrugs, “Only if I feel like it. I’m either studying, gaming or streaming the majority of the time.”

“Well… If it’s safer, then I suppose I’ll take you both up on that offer. But, I don’t have any spare clothes… Should I head back home to get them?”

Mingyu mentions some of the models he slept with left their undergarments and several clothes behind. “Some of them could be your size, plus you can keep them too!”

“Wouldn’t they want them back?”

“Nah, a lot of it has been sitting in my closet for years now.”

“And, they’re loaded – they could just buy another one.”

Given how many girls Mingyu would have over, it’s no surprise that their apartments would have feminine hygiene products. But, it does surprise you to see how expensive the products were. “Oh, a majority of the models I know and fool around with only use luxury or high class brands.”

“And you bought it just for them?”

“Believe me, ___,” Wonwoo hands you a cup of tea, “If Mingyu isn’t shoving his dick into every female model he finds attractive, he’d be a good boyfriend.”

They lead you into a spare room, letting you get comfortable before they start going over the details of the creep that’s been giving you trouble. “My bet is on that Lee Chan you’re partnered with,” Mingyu says as he takes a seat next to you on the bed, Wonwoo asking him why as he takes a seat on the empty gaming chair at the desk.

“I mean, if you think about it, he said you were much prettier up close; which is already creepy in and of itself. Plus, he asked if you lived nearby and if he could go back to your place to work on the assignment!”

“On one hand, that’s a fair point; but maybe the kid is just a loser in a cute boy’s body that doesn’t know how to talk to girls, too. He probably lacks some kind of social cues.”

“Are you defending a creep’s actions now, Woo?”

“Jesus, Mingyu, I’m only giving the kid the benefit of the doubt.”

When you tell them that it’s unlikely Chan is your stalker, Wonwoo is quick to end that train of thought. “___, I’m only giving Chan the benefit of the doubt. But, that doesn’t mean he’s off the hook just yet, considering the things he’s said to you.”

“But, he looks like a sweet guy!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Just because he looks like a sweet guy, doesn’t mean he’s actually a sweet guy.”

“Yeah, like that Night Stalker dude from L.A.,” Mingyu chimes in, “Think his name was Richard Ra… Ramuda? Ramida?”

“Richard Ramirez.”

“Yeah, him! Sure, he’s got some looks, but dude’s a literal murderer! Hell, I can’t believe people would want to bang him!”

“I mean… I would fuck ghostface if given the chance…” you mutter under your breath, getting a judgemental look from the model. Thankfully, Wonwoo justified your statement. “I’m with her on that ghostface statement. It’s a niche market or target audience, it has its appeal.”

“You’re both freaks, but at least that’s a fictional character. Moving on from both of your masked people's kinks, ___, I think it’s best you let Seungcheol know about this.”

You insisted on not telling Seungcheol, continuing with the whole not wanting to be a liability defence and that you were a big girl now; you can handle yourself just fine! No matter how hard the two men tried to persuade you, you wouldn’t budge. For a brief moment, Mingyu could’ve sworn he saw Seungcheol inside you because he too shared the same stubbornness. Realising they can’t get you to change your mind, the men gave up and bid you goodnight.

“You can stay here for as long as you’d like!” the model tells you, “Maybe, even forever!”

Wonwoo scoffs, “As if Seungcheol would let her.”

gamerwoo: hey hyung cheol: sup gamerwoo: ___ would kill me if she found out i told you this gamerwoo: but just a heads up gamerwoo: she’s got a stalker gamerwoo: will let you know when you need to step in

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @minhui896

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moonlarked · 2 days ago

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so like. light is an incredibly smart and strategic person. he knew what he had to do to win against mello. he could’ve done it if he was colder. he ruined his whole plan and caused his own downfall because he didn’t want to kill sayu (despite how he denies ruining his plan mentally) and I don’t know why people argue against that.

#death note #yagami light #light yagami #yagami sayu #sayu yagami #was thinking about this due to the analysis I reblogged earlier

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psychoticfemmm · 10 hours ago

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flashpoint

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: Rafe and the reader argue over a reckless stunt the reader pulled with the Pogues, escalating into a heated confrontation. The reader diffuses the tension in an unexpected way

The argument had escalated far more than you’d intended. Rafe stood in front of you, his jaw tight, eyes blazing with frustration.

“You’re unbelievable!” he snapped, pacing back and forth, his voice sharp with anger. “Do you even realize how reckless that was? Running around with them, pulling some stupid stunt like that? You could’ve gotten hurt—or worse!”

You sighed, crossing your arms. “They’re my friends, Rafe. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do with them.”

“They’re Pogues!” he shot back, his tone dripping with disdain. “And they’re going to get you killed! You’re not—”

“I am a Pogue!” you interrupted, your voice rising. “And I’m not going to stop being one just because you don’t like it!”

“That’s not the point!” Rafe barked, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “The point is you’re putting yourself in danger for no reason!”

You rolled your eyes, even though deep down, you knew he was right. The stunt you’d pulled with the Pogues earlier—a daring boat jump into rocky waters—had been reckless. But admitting that to Rafe? Not happening.

“You’re overreacting,” you muttered, avoiding his glare.

“Overreacting?” He stepped closer, his blue eyes narrowing. “You were one wrong move away from cracking your head open, and you think I’m overreacting?”

You bit your lip, guilt settling in your chest. He wasn’t wrong, but you hated how smug he’d look if you admitted it. Instead, you crossed your arms tighter and met his glare with your own.

“Okay, fine! I get it!” you snapped. “You’ve made your point. Can you stop yelling now?”

But Rafe wasn’t done. “No, I’m not stopping, because clearly, you don’t get it. You can’t keep pulling this crap and expecting me to just—”

“Rafe,” you interrupted, your voice unusually sweet, but he was too wound up to notice.

“And another thing, you’re so—”

Before he could finish, you grabbed the hem of your top and yanked it up, exposing your bare chest.

The silence was immediate.

Rafe’s mouth opened, then closed. His eyes darted from your face to your chest and back again, his expression shifting from anger to shock, then to something far darker.

“You didn’t just—” he started, his voice lower now, almost husky.

“You were yelling,” you said simply, biting back a smirk.

For a moment, he stood there, clearly torn between finishing the argument and giving in to the temptation in front of him. Then, with a soft curse under his breath, he crossed the room in two long strides.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you close.

“And yet, here you are,” you teased, your voice barely a whisper.

He smirked, his lips brushing against yours. “You think you can just flash me and win every argument?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” you shot back, grinning.

Rafe didn’t answer, not with words, anyway. His mouth claimed yours in a heated kiss, the frustration from before melting into something much more electric. His hands roamed your sides, his grip firm, his movements deliberate.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmured against your lips, his tone laced with amusement and desire.

“And you’re lucky I know how to shut you up,” you replied, your breath hitching as he trailed kisses down your neck.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

sorry I went missing for a while but im backkkk 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe x reader smut #outerbanks rafe #obx season 4 #outer banks #fanfiction #obx #aesthetic #drew starkey x reader #rafe fluff #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction

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snowysosturn · 3 days ago

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Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 28

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : Y/n x dealer!Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of murder, mention of guns, description of murder, description of shooting, description of dead body, arguments

The room felt suffocating after we watched the footage. It was as if all the air had been sucked out, leaving nothing but a heavy, oppressive silence. My hands were trembling, still resting on the keyboard where I’d paused the video. The image of Vince standing over Danny’s lifeless body was frozen on the screen, but it was seared into my mind.

I forced myself to breathe, in and out, but the weight in my chest wouldn’t ease. Turning to look at the others, I saw their reactions mirrored my own. Chris stood behind me, his face pale and his jaw clenched tight enough to crack. His eyes were glued to the screen, a storm of rage and disbelief swirling in their depths.

Willow sat on the edge of the couch, her head bowed and her hands clasped together like she was praying. She looked like she might be sick. Nate was the only one moving, pacing back and forth across the room like he was trying to outrun the images we’d just witnessed.

No one said anything for a long time. The silence was unbearable, but none of us seemed to know how to break it. Finally, I closed down the computer, shutting off the horrific scene but not the emotions that came with it.

“That bastard” Nate spat, stopping his pacing to glare at the now-blank screen. “He didn’t even hesitate.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “He-he just killed him. Like it was nothing.”

Chris turned away from the screen, rubbing a hand over his face.

Willow let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know how you guys deal with this. How you’ve been dealing with it. This is..this is so much worse than I thought.”

“It’s not just Danny” I said, my voice trembling but steadying with each word. “If we’ve seen this, imagine how much worse Vince has done that we don’t know about. You could’ve ended up like this too Chris. He’s dangerous, and if we don’t do something, he’ll keep getting away with it.”

Chris moved closer to me, his voice low. “I know this is a lot to take in, but you’re right. We can’t stop now. This is our chance to take him down.”

I looked at him, my chest tightening at the pain and determination in his expression. He was trying to be strong, but I could see the cracks forming beneath the surface.

“We need to talk about what happens next” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “For now, Chris, it’s not safe for you to leave this place. Vince has people everywhere, and if they see you, it’s game over. You have to stay here.”

Chris looked up at me, his jaw tightening. “You’re saying I just sit here while the rest of you go back and forth, putting yourselves at risk? I can’t-”

“You have to.” I interrupted firmly. “If Vince realizes you’re alive, all of this falls apart. He’ll come after you, and he won’t hesitate. You staying here isn’t just about your safety, it’s about giving us a chance to end this.”

Willow nodded in agreement. “Y/n’s right. This place is out of the way, and no one knows you’re here. It’s the safest option, for now.”

Chris exhaled. “And what about the rest of you?“

We’ll be careful” Nate said, his voice firm. “We’ll keep our heads down, do what we need to do, and get out. Besides..” He hesitated, his eyes narrowing in thought. “When the rest of the Crimson Cartel sees that footage, sees what Vince did to Danny, they’ll turn on him. You know how much Danny meant to everyone.”

Chris nodded slowly, his expression darkening. “None of the guys in the footage were part of Crimson. They weren’t our people. But Danny.” His voice broke slightly, and he looked away.

“Everyone loved him” I said softly, reaching for Chris’s hand. “When they find out Vince is behind his death, they won’t stand by him. They’ll turn.”

Chris finally nodded, his grip tightening on my hand. “Fine. I’ll stay. But promise me you’ll all be careful out there. I can’t-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I just can’t lose anyone else.”

“You won’t” I said firmly. “We’ve got this. We’re going to end this.”

Willow stood up, brushing off her hands. “Well, if that’s settled, I’m making a list of what we’ll need for the back and forth trips. Food, clothes, maybe even disguises for when we’re in Boston.”

Chris snorted softly, the faintest trace of a smile appearing. “Disguises? What, are we pulling a heist now?”

Willow smirked. “If the shoe fits.”

The mood lightened just a little, and for the first time in what felt like hours, I saw a hint of hope in Chris’s eyes. We weren’t out of the woods yet, but at least we had a plan. And as long as we stuck together, I believed we could see it through.

The first rays of sunlight started peeking through the curtains, and the exhaustion of the night finally caught up with all of us. Willow was the head to bed, stretching her arms over her head and muttering something about getting at least a couple of hours of sleep before her brain gave out.

“I think we all need it” I said, standing up. My legs felt like jelly, and my head pounded from the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through me all night.

Willow and Nate had already disappeared into their rooms, leaving Chris and I standing in the dimly lit living room. I placed a hand on his arm. “You should sleep too. We’ll figure everything out in the morning, or, well, later today.”

He gave me a faint smile, brushing his thumb across my knuckles before heading toward our room.

Once he was gone, I set an alarm for 10am and followed him toward our room, flopping onto the bed. My body was begging for rest, but my mind raced with everything that lay ahead.

By now, I’d practically abandoned my college routine. The thought of catching up on my workload made my chest tighten with anxiety, but I clung to the hope that my professor would understand. Surely, with the information I had to share, he’d see why I’d been so preoccupied.

Before I could spiral too far, I made a mental note to ask Nate in the morning if he wanted to drive back to Boston with me.

I stared at the ceiling for a long moment before finally closing my eyes. The sun was almost fully risen now, casting a soft glow through the window, but for the first time in days, I let myself give in to the pull of sleep.

The buzz of my alarm startled me awake, yanking me from a restless sleep. For a moment, I stared at the ceiling, disoriented, until everything from the night before came rushing back. I groaned softly, rolling over to check my phone. It was already 10:15. I’d snoozed my alarm more times than I realized.

Dragging myself out of bed, I shuffled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. The reflection in the mirror was a harsh reminder of the toll this week had taken, dark circles ringed my eyes, and my hair was a mess. I looked like I’d been through hell, and in a way, I had.

By the time I made my way into the kitchen, the smell of coffee greeted me. Nate was already there, leaning against the counter with a steaming mug in hand. He looked equally worn out, his usual energy dulled by the weight of the situation.

“Morning” he muttered, his voice rough.

“Morning” I replied, grabbing a mug and pouring myself a cup. The first sip was bliss, the caffeine slowly tricking my body into a false sense of alertness.

We stood in silence for a while, the events of the past 24 hours hanging heavily in the air. It was Nate who finally broke it. “What’s the plan today?”

“I need to head back to Boston” I said. “I left my laptop at home, and I have to figure out what to say to my professor. At this rate, I’ve probably fallen so far behind, but... I don’t know, maybe if I explain some of this, he’ll cut me some slack.”

“You think you’ll tell him everything?” Nate asked, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Not everything,” I said quickly. “Just enough to make it clear that I’ve been dealing with something serious. I’ll frame it around the legal side of things, like how I’m trying to help someone navigate.. a dangerous situation.”

Nate nodded, considering my words. “I’ll drive you back” he offered.

“You sure? You’ve barely slept.”

“So have you” he countered. “Besides, it’s better if we stick together for now. You don’t need to be traveling alone, not with everything that’s going on.”

I gave him a small, grateful smile. “Thanks.”

As we got ready to leave, I grabbed my burner phone from the counter and hesitated. “I think I’ll leave this here” I said, placing it back down. “I don’t want to risk bringing it into the city.”

“Smart move” Nate said, already heading for the door. I made sure I had the USB in my pocket and followed him out.

The drive back to Boston started in silence, both of us too drained to muster small talk. I stared out the window, watching the trees blur into the cityscape as we approached the familiar streets. The normalcy of it all felt jarring. How could everything look so unchanged when my entire world had been flipped upside down?

“You doing okay?” Nate asked, his voice breaking through my thoughts.

I turned to him, offering a faint smile. “Define ‘okay.’”

He smirked faintly, his eyes still on the road. “Fair point.”

“Thanks for driving me” I said after a beat.

“Don’t mention it” he said. “You’ve been holding up pretty damn well through all this, you know.”

I let out a dry laugh. “If by ‘holding up,’ you mean barely keeping it together, then sure.”

Nate glanced at me briefly, a rare softness in his expression. “You’re tougher than you think. Not many people would have stuck around, let alone tried to help us the way you have.”

The unexpected compliment made my cheeks warm. “Thanks, Nate. That means a lot coming from you.”

When we finally pulled up to my house, I felt a strange mix of relief and unease. It had only been over 12 hours since I’d been home, and stepping out of the car felt surreal, like I was returning to a life that no longer fit.

“I’ll check in with my professor and try get a meeting with him today” I told Nate as I unbuckled my seatbelt. “Do you want to meet me back here at 5pm?”

“Yeah” he said with a nod. “We can head back then.”

“Alright. Stay safe, okay?”

“You too.”

I watched him drive off before turning to face the front door of my house. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside. I made my way to the kitchen, where my normal phone sat abandoned on the counter. Picking it up, I unlocked the screen, only to be met with a flurry of missed notifications. Emails, texts, and calendar reminders from college flooded my home screen, each one a stark reminder of how much I’d let slip through the cracks.

Ignoring the overwhelming wave of responsibility, I opened Google and searched for my professor's office phone number. Professor Hawkins was one of the few people I trusted, someone who had always been approachable and understanding. If anyone could offer guidance without prying too much, it was him.

I hesitated for a moment, my thumb hovering over his office number. What would I even say? How could I explain everything without giving too much away?

Taking a deep breath, I tapped the number and held the phone to my ear. It rang twice before a familiar, warm voice answered.

“Professor Hawkins speaking.”

“Hi, Professor. It’s Y/n Y/l/n..” I said, trying to steady my voice.

“Y/n! I was wondering when I’d hear from you. You’ve been absent from class for over a week, is everything alright?”

“Sort of..” I said, my words faltering. “I’ve been dealing with.. a complicated situation. I was hoping I could meet with you to explain and maybe get some guidance on how to move forward. It’s related to my studies, well, partly, but it’s also personal.”

There was a pause on the other end, and I held my breath, worried he might dismiss me outright.

“Of course” he said finally. “I have some time this afternoon. Would 2pm work for you?”

Relief flooded through me. “Yes, that’s perfect. Thank you so much professor.”

“Not a problem, Y/n. I’ll see you in my office at 2.”

As I hung up, I leaned against the counter, exhaling deeply. This was a step forward, a small one, but forward nonetheless.

I grabbed my laptop from my desk and slipped it into my bag along with a notebook. My

After double checking that I had everything I needed, I locked up the house and headed to campus.

Chris’s POV

The morning light seeped through the thin curtains of the Airbnb, casting a golden hue across the room, I sat up, rubbing my face to shake off the remnants of sleep. My mind was still clouded by the events of last night. But now, there was an absence I couldn’t ignore. Y/n wasn’t next to me. I got up and made my way to the living room.

“Morning” Willow’s voice broke the silence as she stepped into the room, a mug of coffee in hand. She was already dressed, looking far more put together than I felt.

“Morning? It’s 2pm..” I muttered, glancing toward the hallway. “Where’s Y/n? And Nate?”

“They left early. Y/n needed to take care of some things back in Boston, and Nate’s her chauffeur for the day.” She smirked, taking a seat in one of the armchairs.

I frowned, the thought of Y/n leaving without a word twisting in my chest. “Did she say anything before she left?”

“Something about needing to talk to her professor” Willow said, waving her hand dismissively. “Relax, she’ll be back. You’re not gonna lose her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I huffed, leaning back against the couch.

Anyway, how’re you holding up after last night?”

I glanced at her, debating how honest I wanted to be. “It’s a lot. Seeing that footage, knowing what Vince did.. it just makes me feel like...” I trailed off, shaking my head. “I don’t even know what I feel. Anger? Guilt? Fear? All of it, I guess.”

Willow nodded, sipping her coffee. “Yeah, it’s a lot to process. You’re not the only one who’s scared, though. We all are.”

I tilted my head, studying her. “How’d you and Nate not lose your minds waiting for the cops to clear last night? Four hours is a hell of a long time to sit in a car.”

Her lips curved into a sly smile. “Oh, we found ways to pass the time.”

I blinked, the suggestive tone in her voice catching me off guard. “Wait a second.. Are you saying-”

Willow cut me off with a laugh. “I’m not saying anything. But, hypothetically, if I were, it’s none of your business, Chris.”

I smirked, leaning forward. “You like him, don’t you?”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. “Nate’s.. different. He’s got this rough exterior, but underneath all that, he’s a good guy. And, well, spending hours in close quarters tends to make you notice things.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Who would’ve thought? You and Nate.”

Willow shrugged, setting her mug down. “Enough about me. What about you? You’ve been glued to Y/n ever since this whole mess started. It’s pretty obvious you’re head over heels for her.”

“Yeah, I love her. I’m not gonna deny that.”

Willow’s gaze softened. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it?”

I nodded, exhaling slowly. “I want to be with her for the rest of my life. I know that sounds crazy, especially with everything going on, but it’s the truth. She’s the one, Willow. And I want to make that clear, not just now, but when this is all over.”

Willow smiled, her expression unexpectedly kind. “You’re a good guy, Chris. And she knows it. She wouldn’t be here, sticking by you through all this, if she didn’t feel the same way.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected, filling me with a mix of hope and determination. “Thanks” I said, my voice quieter.

“Don’t thank me yet” Willow teased, standing up. “Just don’t screw it up, alright?”

I chuckled, the tension in my chest easing slightly. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’m bored without social media.. Want to make burner Instagram accounts?” Willow suggests.

Y/n’s POV

By the time I arrived on campus, my stomach was in knots. This wasn’t just about legal theory or hypotheticals. This was real, messy and dangerous. I smoothed my blazer, took a deep breath, and knocked twice.

“Come in” his deep voice called.

I stepped inside, my hands gripping the strap of my bag. Professor Hawkins was at his desk, glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed a thick stack of papers. He looked up, and his sharp, analytical gaze met mine.

“Miss Y/l/n” he said, gesturing for me to sit. “It’s nice to see you! I was beginning to think you’d dropped out of my class.”

“I know, I’m sorry..” I admitted, lowering myself into the chair. “I’ve had some personal matters to deal with, but I’m here because I need your guidance.”

His brow furrowed, but he didn’t interrupt.

“There’s a situation I’ve gotten involved in, a dangerous one” I began carefully. “It’s about a criminal operation in Boston. I have evidence, but I’m scared to go to the police because it could put me and the people I care about in danger.”

At that, his expression sharpened, and he leaned forward. “Go on.”

“It’s about Vince Moretti..” I said, watching for a reaction. His eyes narrowed slightly, and I knew I had his attention.

“Moretti” he echoed, his tone measured. “I’ve been looking for a way to dismantle his operation for years. The drug feud in Boston is destroying lives, but no one talks. Everyone is either too scared or too loyal to open up. If you have evidence, Miss Y/l/n, you might have what we need to take him down.”

Hearing that sent a chill through me. “I have video footage of Moretti committing murder..” I said quietly. “But I need to do this in a way that keeps me out of it. The people I care about, they’re already too close to all of this.”

Hawkins studied me for a moment before nodding. “There was a raid at the docks last night, but my contacts in law enforcement have been quiet, which means they don’t know exactly who it's linked to or they’re keeping what they did find under wraps. If you have something concrete, it needs to stay quiet. The last thing you want is for Moretti to catch wind of it before law enforcement can act.”

“I understand” I said. “This evidence could be the turning point, but I can’t afford for it to lead back to me. Can you help?”

I paused, suddenly realizing how much trust I was putting in Hawkins by sharing this information. I couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not with so much on the line. My hand instinctively went to my bag, and I pulled out the small, nondescript USB drive.

“I.. I have the footage with me” I said, my voice steady despite the knot tightening in my stomach. “It’s all on here. What happened with Vince and Danny.. the moment Vince killed him.”

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. He didn’t seem surprised, though his gaze flicked briefly to the USB in my hand. He held out his hand, and I hesitated for a moment before passing it to him.

He examined the drive, turning it over in his fingers as if weighing the decision on what to do next. “You’re sure this footage is unaltered? No editing or manipulation?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “It’s untouched. I’ve kept it safe.”

Hawkins didn’t say anything for a moment. He seemed to be processing, considering what he was about to dive into. Finally, he spoke.

“Alright. I’ll take a look at it. But you understand this is a delicate situation. If this footage confirms what you say, then we’re dealing with a murder, and Moretti won’t let it slide easily. His influence is far reaching, and the moment this gets out.. it won’t just be you at risk.”

“I know” I said quietly. “But I can’t just sit back anymore. This needs to be dealt with, and I need to know I did everything I could to stop him. For my own peace of mind, and for the people I care about.”

He nodded, his eyes softening just a fraction. “I get it. I’ll keep this in safe hands. But you need to prepare yourself. There’s no going back once this is in motion.”

“I’m ready” I said, though I wasn’t sure if I truly was.

Hawkins gave me a sharp nod before getting up and walking to his desk, plugging the USB into his computer. As the screen came alive with the footage, I stood frozen, feeling the weight of what was to come. My heart beat louder in my chest, knowing that once the truth was revealed, there would be no turning back.

After a few moments, Hawkins turned to face me. “This is solid. You’ve done well to get this footage. But now the hard part begins.”

“I know” I whispered, my stomach twisting.

Hawkins leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping lightly on the desk as he thought. After a long silence, he looked at me, his expression serious.

“You know, Y/n..” he said, voice low but steady, “There’s a way we can handle this without you directly being involved. If we go about it anonymously, if we can release this evidence to the right people without your name attached, then the state can take it from there. We get the authorities involved, and it’s their job to pursue it, not yours.”

I blinked, my mind spinning at the possibility. "You mean.. you think we could turn this over without anyone finding out it was me who gave them the footage?"

“Exactly” Hawkins confirmed, leaning forward, his gaze unwavering. “If we can make sure no one knows where this evidence came from, if we keep your identity out of it entirely, then the state can arrest Vince without putting you or your loved ones at risk. You won’t be the one in the line of fire.”

I let out a breath, feeling a sliver of relief. The weight of what he was offering began to sink in. I’d been terrified, every day, that my involvement would make me a target, or worse, put Chris, Nate, and Willow in harm's way too. The thought of remaining anonymous, of not having to watch my every step, was a relief. But at the same time, it felt like I was still hiding from the truth.

“So, how would we even get this to the right people without anyone knowing?” I asked, trying to wrap my head around the logistics of it all.

Hawkins raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed by my willingness to question the plan. “There’s a network. I have a few connections in law enforcement who are more than willing to work discreetly. We can get the footage into the hands of the right people who’ll work behind the scenes to make sure Vince is arrested, while keeping everything under wraps. But you need to understand, once this is out there, it can’t be retracted. If it leaks or anyone catches wind of who helped, it could undo everything.”

I nodded slowly, processing the risk. It seemed like the perfect solution. It would protect me, Chris, and everyone else involved, while still putting Vince away.

“I understand” I said, feeling the weight of his words. “But how do we make sure it goes through? How do we ensure that it doesn’t get buried or lost in the system?”

Hawkins smiled faintly, though his eyes remained sharp. “That’s where I come in. I’ll make sure it gets to the right people, the ones who are beyond Vince’s reach. But you need to trust me on this. If you want to keep this as clean and anonymous as possible, you can’t be involved directly from here on out. It’s going to take time, and it’s going to require patience, but in the end, it’ll be worth it.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in. If I did this, if I let Hawkins handle it from here,I would be taking the risk of putting everything in his hands. But at the same time, it was the only way I could be sure that the right thing was done, without endangering myself or the people I loved.

“You have my trust” I said quietly. “I’ll let you handle it. I just want Vince gone. I want him out of our lives.”

Hawkins nodded, his expression firm. “I’ll do everything I can to make that happen. I’ll get the ball rolling right away. But remember, you can’t talk about this to anyone. Not even your closest friends. The less you say, the safer you’ll be.”

“I get it” I whispered, my heart racing. “Thank you, Professor Hawkins. I don’t know what else to say. Just.. please make sure this works.”

“I will” he said, voice steady and confident. “Now go. I’ll handle the rest from here.”

I left his office with a heavy heart but a renewed sense of hope. This was the right move, the only way to stop Vince without risking everything. I finally felt like I could breathe, if only for a moment. The end was in sight.

–

By 5pm, I was standing at the window, waiting for Nate to arrive. The sound of a car pulling into my driveway snapped me out of my thoughts, knowing we were about to head back into the chaos once again.

I grabbed my things and stepped outside, walking toward the car quickly before getting in.

"Did you get to talk to your professor?" Nate asked, his expression a little more serious than usual, probably from everything that had gone down recently.

"Yeah" I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "But I got a call from him again about thirty minutes ago. The police have the footage now, but.. Vince is nowhere to be found since the raid last night. They can trace everything back to him, but without him in custody, it's like a waiting game."

Nate's expression shifted, brows furrowing. "That’s.. not good. So, they’ve got everything, but no Vince?"

"Exactly" I replied.

Nate’s grip on the wheel tightened, and his jaw set as he drove. "This isn’t good" he muttered under his breath, his eyes flicking to the rearview mirror as if expecting someone to be following. "The whole point of getting this footage was to put the pressure on Vince, but if he’s nowhere to be found.." He trailed off, frustration clear in his voice.

I could see the wheels turning in his mind. He was never one to be idle when something was wrong, and the thought of Vince slipping through their fingers was eating away at him.

"Maybe he’s hiding" I suggested, though it didn’t feel like much of an answer. "He’s got resources, people who could help him disappear, but they're probably piecing things together, hoping someone will slip up, reveal his whereabouts, but right now.. it’s just a matter of time. Professor Hawkins said once there’s an arrest, it’ll be all over the news" I added, my voice laced with uncertainty.

"Yeah, I know" Nate growled. "But it’s not just that. He’s smart enough to keep a low profile. If the cops can’t find him now, it means he’s pulling strings, keeping his head down, and the longer he does that, the longer it’ll be before he’s found. It’s like we’re chasing a shadow."

Nate stayed silent for a while, focusing on the road. "I just don’t know how much longer we can wait for that. We need him caught now. If we wait too long, everything’s going to fall apart." His words were sharp, frustration lacing each word.

"Well.." I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "the cops are looking. They’re not going to stop just because Vince’s gone to ground. We need to trust that they’ll catch up with him. We’ve done everything we can. And we need to make sure we just lay low now."

When we finally pulled into the driveway of the Airbnb, stepped out of the car, still processing everything that had happened with Professor Hawkins, and headed toward the front door, Nate trailing closely behind me.

As we walked inside, the soft murmur of voices filled the air. Willow was in the kitchen, scrolling on her burner and Chris was lounging on the couch, his expression neutral but tired. When he saw us, he sat up straighter, his eyes immediately locking on mine.

"How did things go?" he asked, his voice low, his gaze flickering between me and Nate.

I nodded, taking a seat at the table. "We’ve got good news and bad news" I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "The footage is in the right hands, and Vince can be linked to everything, but.. he’s gone."

"Yeah" Nate added, rubbing the back of his neck. "The police can’t find him, and he’s laying low since the raid. No one knows where he is. They can’t even get close to him right now."

Willow frowned, putting down the papers she was holding. "That’s not great" she said quietly, crossing her arms over her chest. "But at least we’re making progress, right?"

"Not enough" Nate replied, his frustration clear. "We don’t have time to wait around for Vince to come out of hiding" Nate muttered. "We need to do more. We need him behind bars sooner, not later."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "The police have the footage. There’s nothing more we can do right now. We just have to be patient."

He let out an exasperated breath, pacing around the living room. "Patient? Patience isn’t going to get him behind bars! He’s slipping through the cracks, and we're just standing here, waiting for him to screw us over again."

"I know you're angry" I said, trying to keep my voice calm, "but there’s nothing we can do to force their hand right now. If we make any noise, it'll mess everything up. The best thing we can do is stay silent and let the police handle it."

Nate stopped pacing and glared at me. "Stay silent? We’ve been silent this whole time, Y/n!"

I could hear the frustration in his voice, and I understood. We’d all been waiting for something, anything to happen. But rushing things now would only make it worse.

"We're not doing nothing" I said, my tone softer but firm. "We’ve done everything we can. We got the footage, we tipped the cops off, and now it’s in their hands. Vince is running out of options. He’ll slip up. He has to."

Nate crossed his arms over his chest, still scowling “I’m going to bed.” Shaking his head as he made his way down the hallway toward one of the bedrooms. I could tell he was still seething with anger, unable to let go of the frustration that had built up. I didn’t blame him, but for now, we all needed a break.

Willow and I plopped down on the couch next to Chris, flipping through TV channels to put a news channel on, in case any news broke. The silence between us was tense, each of us processing everything in our own way. Every update on the news made my stomach twist tighter. No word on Vince yet. But we kept watching, hoping for some shift that would give us more clarity.

Willow shifted beside me. "You know" she said, breaking the silence, "Chris and I set up burner Instagram accounts today while you were talking to Hawkins."

I glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "You did?"

She nodded, her lips quirking into a smile. "Yeah. I thought it might be useful, you know, staying low key while we keep track of things. Still having some sense of normality."

"Good thinking" I said, reaching for my phone. "Guess I’ll set one up too then."

We sat there, the murmurs of the TV in the background, as Chris and Willow helped me create a burner account. It didn’t take long, and soon enough, I was scrolling through random pages, looking at reels.

Time seemed to stretch on as we sat there, clicking through posts, our minds occupied with the task but constantly flicking back to the news, half expecting to see something break. The quiet ticking of the clock felt like it was counting down to something, but we had no idea what.

After about an hour, the silence in the room was finally broken by Chris. He leaned forward, his eyes glued to his phone screen, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Theres no fucking way" Chris muttered under his breath. His voice was a mix of disbelief and anger.

Willow and I exchanged a glance, both leaning in, asking in unison, "What’s wrong?"

Chris's fingers moved rapidly across the screen as he scrolled through, shaking his head in frustration. "I was being nosey" he said, his voice tight. "I was checking out one of the H Block guys’ pages. They-"

His words were cut off as he turned the screen toward us, and my heart dropped into my stomach. There it was. The footage.

The grainy, shaky camera work was unmistakable, the same one we'd watched hours ago on that USB, only now it was out there in the world. The caption above it was a slap to the face: "Crimson scum, killing your own 🐀"

My breath hitched in my chest, and I felt Willow’s eyes on me as my stomach twisted. I felt sick, my hands trembling as I reached for the phone to get a closer look. But even before I could process it all, my mind was racing. This could change everything.

"Shit" Willow breathed, leaning back into the couch. "This is bad. This is really bad."

Chris exhaled sharply, his eyes dark with anger and disbelief. "Yeah. And it's all over Instagram now.”

"How did they get this?" I whispered, the question more to myself than anyone else.

The tension in the room was palpable, thick with the weight of the unspoken truth. Chris jumped up from the couch, his legs moving before his mind fully caught up with the frustration building inside him. "No" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head as if to convince himself that this wasn’t real. "There’s no fucking way..."

But as soon as he moved toward the hall, the door to one of the bedrooms creaked open, and there stood Nate, leaning against the doorframe. He was holding his phone, his expression unreadable as he watched Chris’s every move. The moment their eyes locked, I felt the air get even heavier. Something was about to snap.

Chris’s voice was low, simmering with anger. "You fucking leaked it, didn’t you?" he demanded, his gaze hard as steel.

Nate didn't flinch. He just stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Chris with a mixture of defiance and coldness.

“I did what I had to do" Nate said through clenched teeth, his voice low and almost challenging. "You think I’m just gonna sit here while Vince gets away with everything? While Danny’s gone? I had to do something."

Chris shook his head, pacing in frustration. "You think that’s the way to fix things? You put everything at risk. Everything we've been working toward. Y/n told you to stay quiet, and you fucking ignored her." He stopped, turning to face Nate with a look of disbelief. "You could have trusted us, man. We could’ve handled this the right way."

Nate’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "The right way? There is no ‘right way’ when it comes to this shit, Chris. I didn’t make this mess, but I’ll be damned if I sit around waiting for Vince to tear apart everything we’ve been working for. Crimson’s not just gonna sit on their hands, pretending like everything’s fine. They needed to know-"

"That’s not how you do it!" Chris interrupted, his voice rising. "You don’t just act on impulse, you don’t just go and leak shit to a rival gang, especially not with the people we care about in danger. What if someone tracks it back to us? What if this blows up in our faces?"

"Then so be it" Nate shot back, his voice colder now. "I don’t care anymore. I just want Vince to pay for what he did. I want him gone." He hesitated, his gaze flickering to me and Willow on the couch. "I had to make a move. So I sent it to H Block. They don’t know it was me, but they’re gonna spread it around, and then Crimson won’t have any choice but to turn on Vince. They’ll start talking, and then he’ll be the one running, not us."

Willow shifted beside me, her eyes wide as she watched the back and forth between the two. Chris’s face was flushed with anger, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He was trying to stay calm, but the frustration was evident.

"You’re out of your fucking mind, Nate" Chris spat, his voice barely containing the fury he was feeling. "What the hell made you think that was the right call? You really don’t get it, do you? We were trying to handle this quietly, trying to get Vince without anyone else getting hurt. And you go and throw all that out the window. Just like that."

Nate didn’t flinch. "And if I hadn’t done it? Vince would still be out there, laughing at us, thinking he can do whatever he wants. You really think I was just gonna sit back and watch that happen? Watch people we care about get hurt while I did nothing?"

The two of them were standing there, inches apart now, the tension thick enough to choke the air around us. I could see both of them on the verge of snapping, both holding on to their frustrations in the same clenched fists. I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, the sound of a breaking news report cut through the silence, pulling all of our attention to the TV in the corner of the room.

"Breaking news from Boston." the anchor's voice rang out. "Authorities have confirmed that a known leader of one of Boston's major drug gangs has been arrested, on the outskirts of Massachusetts. The arrest comes following the discovery of shocking footage implicating him in a recent murder of a close affiliate related to the feud. The footage comes a day after a raid near the docks late last night, which is now being linked back to this gang."

The words hung in the air and for a split second, it felt like the room itself froze. My heart started to race as the news anchor continued. A mixture of panic and relief.

“Wow, maybe that is how you do it” Willow whispers under her breath, only loud enough for me to hear.

Chris’s voice broke prominent silence, shaky but determined. "He’s gone. This is it."

Nate, still standing with his arms crossed, didn’t respond right away. His eyes were glued to the screen, his expression unreadable. "Yeah" he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "It’s done. Vince is done."

But despite the relief that seemed to come with hearing about Vince’s arrest, it was clear from Nate’s tone that it didn’t feel like a victory, not yet.

Chris and Nate made their way back to the couch. We all sat there, glued to the screen, waiting for any further details.

I knew this wasn’t over yet, but at least it was a start.

a/n: 2 more parts

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lcvelust · 2 days ago

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Normalcy / The Black Brothers

Regulus couldn’t forgive his brother to an extent.

“Reg? Reg!” You called through the quiet night, panting as you placed your hands on your knees; the chilly air making your skin crawl after it had burned from your sprint. You stared at Regulus as puffs of air escaped you in mists of white, feet propelling onto the ground as if you’d been frosted over.

“What’re you doing..? What– who’s that?” You breathlessly whispered, eyes digging into the back of the unknown person’s head.

Regulus looked as if he was in denial, specks of fear lining his irises that held that of a fog on a cloudy day, his perfectly arched brows furrowed in confusion. Words were stuck in his throat, hesitance clear as day through his thinned lips, tongue unwilling to unravel.

“Siri?”

He muttered into the stillness of the land, voice as fragile as a thread that was ready to snap at any given moment. His stomach twisted painfully as he forced the syllables out of his mouth, acidic, his heart twinging at the prospect of what his brother had done.

Slowly, the figure turned, its black hood gently falling to his shoulders. His long, raven hair flowed freely in the breeze, toppled with snow as it cascaded down his face that was masked from the kiss of the wind— the intricate wood carvings of his vizard shining bright under the dim moonlight.

You could only watch in shock as the expression on Regulus’ face morphed instantly, the visible fright that he wore melting into one of loathing. A sneer replaced the frown that had etched itself upon his lips, an emotion that both him and Sirius had grown all too familiar with.

He had glared with so much intensity that in a flurry of time, your eyes blurred, for the familiar face of Orion Black, though he couldn’t have been physically there, was dizzying.

Regulus snapped you out of your daze before the image of their father completely slithered into your brain to sink its fangs into your thoughts, jabbing at Sirius’ chest harshly, caring not of his surroundings. “What do you think you’re doing, parading into an assembly like that?”

“Reggie..”

“You could’ve been killed. You’re most fortunate the Dark Lord knows not of your presence.” Regulus locked eyes with Sirius angrily, the snow swirling between the three of you in furious gusts seemingly battling him of his rage.

He hadn’t even let Sirius retaliate before he continued on, spite blossoming on the pits of his chest, a gaping hole instead of a heart that beats. “Ever since we were kids, you’ve been so defiant of our parent’s ideologies. How come you’ve changed your views so suddenly?” He challenged, “how much longer are you going to keep pretending?”

Sirius’ hands balled into fists, his patience fraying like old fabric. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, he thought. The wind howled, whispering in his ears like a dull mantra, but it felt nothing compared to the tempest raging inside of him. “Just let me explain, please,” he let out desperately, his voice low and steady, dripping with a lack of venom that his brother had used against him.

Sirius hadn’t waited for a response, stepping forward before grabbing Regulus on the arm with a grip that was that of a vice; unyielding.

With a wave of his wand, his mask disappeared off and into the air, a vulnerability glittering in his eyes he had never dared muster in Grimmauld. “Don’t be mad,”

“How couldn’t I be?” Regulus asked, a quiver of his lips present. His eyes didn’t brim with tears easily, he had valiantly fought back: you will yourself to look between them. You wish you hadn’t. The grief that swam in their storms would be enough to haunt you for the rest of your life.

Though, for the first time in years, Sirius looked as if he had his mind set on something. He wanted— no, needed, for his brother to understand.

He had left him in that cruel house with so much anguish, so much hatred for the circumstances he was left in. Deep down, you both knew that it wasn’t Sirius’ fault, it never could’ve been. He’d experienced such abuse that it drove him out, walking out of his parent’s lives without looking back at anything he had ever needed to look after for and more. Closing the door to leave his little brother to fend for himself.

But everything had changed now, it was as obvious as the rising of the sun.

“I did this for you,” Sirius muttered gently, bunching up the black sleeve that hung to shield his left forearm from the cold. His fingers trembled, and with a deliberate motion, he revealed his pale skin that lay beneath the confines of the fabric, the Dark Mark branded in sinister detail.

Regulus seemed to choke back what sounded like a sob racking through his body, not believing of his older brother’s unbecoming. You held onto his shoulders.

“..Why?” He had forced out, the words tumbling out of his throat in a low, grating, voice— almost a screech he’d recognized to be akin to his mother’s. “Why do you keep doing this, Sirius? I don’t.. I can’t understand! You left me be, remember? Why are you suddenly back into my life, now, when I’ve learned to breathe without the thought of you suffocating me?”

Sirius stared at Regulus, his hand still resting on his brother’s arm, the cold seemingly pressing in on them from all sides, as if the world on itself was holding its breath.

“Reg,” Sirius whispered, his voice breaking just slightly, “I’m trying to protect you now, because I.. I know that I was wrong. So wrong.”

“You still are, Siri. There’s a possibility that I’d lose my brother a second time.” Regulus’ expression softened, just barely, before he turned away, his shoulders slumping. “And I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for that.”

The snow continued to swirl around them, but for once, it felt like the moment was finally coming to a standstill.

“I don’t expect you to,” Sirius said quietly, his voice steady despite the turmoil of emotions mushing with the organs inside of his stomach. “But, it’s better me than you. I’ve failed at protecting you once; and I’m here for a chance to redeem myself, I’ll be here for as long as you’ll let me. I won’t leave you again, Regulus. I swear it.”

There was a long pause, and for a fleeting second, it felt like Regulus might say something more, but the moments passed with him gently prying Sirius’ hand off, letting the distance between the both of them grow once more as the night stretched on.

Sirius stood there, watching his brother disappear down the mountain with a tugging of his heartstrings, a throb from his mind. He looked pitiful. His brother was slipping through his fingers again, and he hadn’t quite held him close yet.

He turned to you, offering a faint, strained smile. “I thought I’d meet you again under vastly different circumstances. I’m sorry.” He spoke tenderly, a sliver of hurt threading through his words.

You nodded, the pain in your own heart too deep for you to find your voice. “It’s alright, Black. Forget it.”

Sirius’ gaze settled on your figure, a bitter chuckle escaping him. “I ought to.”

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jujutsukgojo · 3 days ago

Text

The Baby Project Chapter 7

Summary: All because your back was turned. tw: angst, lost kid, brief assault, panic, idk what else

Yona leads you back to her office after your cry fest. You don’t dare look anyone in the eye. It’s embarrassing enough that Sakura saw you freak out and to face these random people who saw you cry in the foyer would be too much right now. Inside, you inform her of what’s going on.

“We figured it was because of his past.”

You shake your head no. “Not just that. It was everything. I broke the scholarship’s rules.”

“And they brought up Kenji.”

“Kaibara brought that up. How does he even know that?” Yona stretches and rubs her ear. “The brat gave Noa to him. That is the only time they interacted.”

You shake your head. “No, no. He dug deep into Ken and used it against me. Kaibara would’ve had to at least know his name. I never talked about you guys!” Did you? It was months ago and so much has happened in that short time frame.

Yona sucks on her teeth. “Do you think he may have been watching? I don’t know what he looks like. He could’ve come in and heard Ken’s name in passing. He’s a hero,” She sighs and sits on the corner of her desk. “They’re smart. It wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.”

You are silent and take that possibility in. It’s strange and frightening to think he had been watching you all because of twenty bucks. Yona clears her throat. “Pretty, we understand what happened and welcome you back to work but I think you should talk to Ken.”

“Is he mad?”

“Not at you. I think you might be mad at him.”

You straighten up. You didn’t reflect on what you felt towards Ken individually. You knew you would miss him and Yona terribly, but not if you were mad at Kenji. Now that you think about it, only one answer comes to mind. “I’m not mad at Ken.”

Her eyes soften and her ladybug wings settle against her back. “Then go tell him that. He’s been walking around here like a kicked dog.” -

“Ken?” He turns his head a little to see you. Never have you been afraid of Ken. You didn’t judge him for his past since it’s none of your business. Besides, he doesn’t do it anymore. So, why bother him about it? Despite what Kaibara and U.A. say, you don’t let that darkness that festered inside him stop you from loving him. Especially since he hasn’t done it since he paid his dues. To you, he's Ken.

He looks the same since last you saw him. His hair is still in need of a haircut. You run into his arms and squeeze him tight.

“How’ve you been, bub?” As you squeeze him, his back cracks. Ken groans and answers, “I’ve been better, sugar.”

You have so much to catch up on with him and Yona, the customers, the latest gossip on the streets. You want to brag about your grades and Noa, about Izuku even though he’s in the dog house. First, you need to reassure the cook so he doesn’t poison you.

You separate from him and look down. Even though you didn’t have anything to do with U.A.’s decision, you can’t help but feel guilty and complicit. “Ken, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

You suck on your lips and put your hands behind your back. “I didn’t fight hard enough for you. I should’ve defended you more and at least called after I quit.”

He rubs your head. “No apologies needed, kid. It’s not your fault, it’s theirs.”

His pardon puts a big smile on your face. You bounce up and down. “I’m working here again!”

Ken raises his brow. “Yeah? What’d you do, blow up the school and make them cave?”

“No! As long as I’m listed as a volunteer, I’m good.”

“Guess we’ll just have to make people tip.” He swats a towel on your head. “Now shut up and get over here. Cut the onions, I hate doing it.”

-----------

Now that the stress of your finances has been slightly lightened, there is another problem that needs attention. It’s hard to ignore that Noa is starting to have a hitting problem. Recently, he smacked Hana across the face with his toy truck resulting in a scar. You couldn’t apologize enough for it. Ema got over it and understood because Hana's going through the same thing. Kirishima, on the other hand, is still pretty pissed. Since he is Ema’s problem, you’ll leave that to her even though their relationship is still on the rocks.

You don’t really know what to do other than scold Noa for it and put him in time out which isn’t really working. Yona’s advice to have him channel it into something productive is a fine suggestion, but what? He colors already and plays with everyone he comes in contact with, what else? You already make crafts with him, read, and even have him study with you. Noa is two years old. All of this stuff should be gaining his attention.

You write this in your report. The thick pamphlet that is soon to be filled out seems to have more negatives than positives. You sigh and look at his little shelf of books. Lately, all the kids’ books you have aren’t working. He seems more partial to the things you’re reading than anything. Especially The Great Love Story. Although it is a good read, it’s getting tiring. Is it possible that the daring fight with the dragon is affecting him?

Noa pops up from the bed and walks over to you. “Hey, mini man. Did I wake you?” He nods and has a deep frown. You pick him up and place his head on your shoulder, slightly rocking back and forth. “What do I do with you? What should we do to make you stop hitting and getting into stuff? C’mon, what do you like?”

His eyes light up and says with a groggy voice, “Food.”

“Like the cake for Papa?” It still stings mentioning him but he is Noa’s dad and is a part of his life.

Noa nods enthusiastically. Now that you have a spark of relief and happiness, you list foods that the two of you can cook. You take out a notebook and put on the lists he agrees with. Right now, money is a little tight, so you’ll just have to hold him over with smaller and cheaper recipes until you can work your way up with your new chef.

It's strange. You hug Noa with genuine happiness when you see how excited he is.

----------------

Ema rubs her eyes when you enter the classroom with Noa who is wearing his Deku hoodie. He was adamant about matching his Papa. With his hand in yours, you gain the attention of others. “What?”

“He’s tall!” Riko puts her hands on her hips. “I saw you last night and he wasn’t this tall.”

You shrug your shoulders. “He grew?”

The door opens behind you. Snipe looks down at Noa. “I heard you from the outside. I have to say, I think you’re right.” He squats and asks, “Can I see your tummy?” Noa shakes your hand and points. You hum and lift his hoodie. On it is a new number.

“Three years old!” You exclaim. It isn’t that you didn’t notice his growth or care. It’s just news because how in the hell were you able to pull that off? It can’t be something as small as cooking.

“Congratulations to (Y/n) and Noa. The first to reach three years old.” Snipe claps and laughs. You beat Ema of all people? She’s like the golden standard of this project. How in the hell did you beat her?

Noa cheers his own name, making you roll your eyes. This kid has yet to call you mom.

Snipe walks to the podium. The class is silent and waits for him to start the session. Everyone has their kids today and most of them are well behaved. Snipe rubs his face under his mask. “Now, about the caregiver situation-”

“What about-” You start to say. Snipe smacks the podium lightly. “(Y/n)! Enough.”

You raise your hand. He sighs and calls your name. “The caregiver? And-”

“One question at a time for you. The caregiver is one of the students in the support course who,” He looks around and sees all of the kids’ faces. “Um, help Mei Hatsume with the assignment. She’ll take care of them during class.”

You raise your hand again. Snipe groans. “Anyone besides her?”

“The gall…” You mutter. Riko looks at you and then raises her hand. “Now that general studies are starting to be taken seriously, does the class get the same benefits they do?”

Attagirl.

Snipe puts his hand on his hips and stares at you. “I didn’t say it!”

“No, but you put her up to it. Riko, the differences in the curriculum between you and the third year hero course are drastic. So what is allowed with them is strictly because of that. Nothing else.”

How in the hell did he come to the conclusion that you made her do it? You can't control her mind. You may tell people what to do but you don't control them.

You raise your hand again. He glances at you and simply says, “No. Now let’s start class.”

He did nothing but create excuses for them. Of course, he did.

Right as you are writing down important notes, in the corner of your eye, you see Noa raise his hand. This should've been expected since he is creating this habit. Alas, you and everyone else didn't realize how far it would go until Noa screams and hits everything. You try to calm him down with things he normally likes. Drawing, his ‘homework’, books and toys, all of it. You grab his offending arm before it swings again, “Listen, boy, you’re young so you don't have survival instincts yet,” He blows a raspberry in your face then stops as quick as he started. “Trust, I will tear your ass up in the middle of this class.”

Snipe begins to scold you. “Hush!” You point to Snipe then turn back to Noa who’s pouting. “Noa, this behavior is over, ‘kay? We’re not doing this. My sous chef can't act like a fool. I will not have a fool for a cook. Act right, wait, and color Mommy a pretty picture so I can put it on the wall over there.”

Snipe puts his hand on his hip. “You cannot pin something on the wall-” Snipe begins to growl at your disregard.

“Bet. Noa, you will behave. If you want to sit on my lap and help, that’s fine. If you want to dance and mind your business, go ahead since it won't hurt anyone.”

He looks like he understands for a second until he looks up defiantly and throws what he believes is a trump card. “I’ll tell Papa-”

“And I will beat his ass too. Papa is victim number one. With a switch and everything because I don’t give a damn. You are going to say sorry, and you will behave."

Everyone remains silent as he apologizes to Akane, his victim. Akane coos over how polite he is and how clear he speaks. Kobeni calls Noa’s name and he wanders to the back of the class to play. Snipe points to you and says, “That is what you don’t do. Threatening is not allowed.”

“Neither is abandoning kids to villains yet here we are.”

“Child-”

“Man.”

Noa bounces up and down, excited that he's running around. Snipe points to the door. “Hallway.”

The hero's foolery must stop.

You get Noa and head to the hallway. “This wouldn’t happen if we had a caregiver.”

In the hallway, Noa tries to do a cartwheel and lands on his face. You suck in your lips so you don’t cackle. Even though you don’t mind what he’s doing right now, you still have to talk to him.

“Noa, I’m going to need you to calm down when we’re in class.”

“Your class!” He makes a point. “I’m bored!”

It’s understandable. You even struggle with it. Unfortunately, it’s something you have to sit through. As a three year old, it must be harder. “I understand Noa, believe me, I do. But baby,” You sit down. “When we’re in class, I need you to be as calm as you can.”

“I’m trying.” He nuzzles in your hand that is gently cupping his chubby cheek.

You give him a kiss. “I know, baby. I also know that you won’t hit anymore, so thank you for that.”

“Trying!” He groans and stomps his foot. You rub his arms and sigh. You know he is. And you also know that the hitting is over. It will be nearly impossible to get him to calm down, though. And everyone else’s kids are active in class, just not as disruptive as he is. It's gotten worse over time.

“I was like you, too. So, I get it! I’m trying as well.” You kiss his forehead. “How about we try together, partner? I’ll bring more of your things and ask to be moved to the back, eh?”

“You’re out here again?�� You jump when a voice interrupts you and Noa’s moment. It’s him. Shouto Todoroki walks into the hallway. His dual colored eyes observe both you and Noa. Around the start of this, you felt an intense anger towards him and his whole family. Since then, it’s calmed down due to you being busy with life. Now that he’s in front of you, that anger starts to spark like little embers on wood.

Through gritted teeth, you ask, “What’re you doing here?”

Seriously, how the hell does he know you come out here a lot?

“Looking for my partner.” Then, you notice the infant in his arms. He isn’t wearing his hero costume or gym clothes. He isn’t disheveled or bothered at all. “Why?”

“To give her the baby.” Noa hops over to him. “Lemme see!” He stands on his tippy toes and sees the baby that looks like that one girl. You don’t really know her other than her reaction at the Sports Festival. The only thing that baby has of him is the eye color and pink hair.

“Why?”

“That’s personal.”

“So are us being out here yet you believe you should point it out. Now why are you passing on your responsibility again?”

His face remains the same. Indifferent and a little awkward. “Couldn’t the same be said for you with Midoriya?”

Bitch.

“What’d you mean?” You take steps to him. He shrugs. “You make him the father when Noa has one right next to you. How can you judge me when you pass Noa to someone who isn’t even doing the project?”

“Izuku wants to. I'm not making him!” You hang onto that since he is helping. To others, it must look like you've pushed Noa onto him if they weren't paying attention. It’s embarrassing because you’re aware of how it looks.

“He pities you-” The raise of your hand was quick and harsh. The slap made him gasp and your hand tingly. “I may be a lot of things, but a pitiful creature I am not. It’s you and your family's fault that we’re suffering 24/7. If you would disappear and stop reminding everyone of your father and fine ass brother, I wouldn’t be in this mess!”

His baby sucks on their thumb, totally oblivious. The rage, the hatred, you’ve felt towards him during these last few months come up to the surface. You can’t find it in you to feel bad about slapping him or for anything else. You don’t have sympathy for him. What you care about is you and yours. He and his family, fuck them. Why should you and anyone else feel bad for them? Does anyone doing the project have the energy to?

Fuck the Todorokis. Dabi was fine as hell but his looks can’t save him.

“So, why don’t you just drop out and off the face of the earth?” His face drops. The sick satisfaction of his pain makes you smile from joy.

"Oooh! You smack! I'm telling Papa, ooohh!" Noa points at you accusingly with a smug look on his face.

--------

The plan for a caregiver is brilliant. Everyone in class takes a turn watching the children. Today, it’s Riko’s turn. Tomorrow will be Sakura’s. This plan won’t work during school hours which sucks but hopefully, everyone can come up with something.

Akane shifts her weight on her feet. “You sure you’re okay?”

Riko rolls her eyes. “Yes. Now go study! The kids and I will turn on a show and paint something. Trust me, this isn’t my first time babysitting.”

Another idea pops in your head. “What if during school hours, the caregiver works in the back and we’ll take notes for them? Maybe we’ll do each other’s homework?”

Riko shrugs. “Nah. That won’t work during tests and shit,” She waves her hands around. “We won’t think of that right now. Now is the time to practice so you can kick butt.” You smile at her, grateful that she’s enthusiastic about it and understanding. Lately, U.A. is working on Mineta’s investigation. No one knew that it was a thing until Riko was approached by Mic. Apparently, the questions were checking to see her status. She had told you that they hinted, or implied, that depending on how she is, he may come back. She isn’t sure and hasn’t told you what the questions were exactly. You want to respect her privacy and not jeopardize anything.

“Let us know if you need us,” She nods and sighs. You point at Noa. “Boy, you’ll come up missing if you act up, capisce?”

“Capisce!” He gives you a thumbs up. You wave him goodbye so he can hang out with his friends and Auntie Riko.

In the commons next to the kitchen, you lick your lips and try not to laugh at Hansuke's Hawks’s impersonation. You clear your throat. “Mr. Hawks-”

“Yes?”

You loudly cackle and squat. Hansuke's impression of Hawks is exaggerated. “Why’re you laughing chickadee? Hurry up so I can go get some chicken with Endeavor.”

“Ugh!”

Tears slide down your temples as you laugh on your back. Today, you’re practicing going in front of Hawks with the notes you made. Undeniably, there’s still a lot to do and study for but practice makes perfect as long as Hansuke stops making you laugh.

“That’s another thing we have to work on: your emotions. You tend to get very hot-headed when challenged, (Y/n).” Benio takes a drink in an attempt to collect himself.

“Whew, okay, okay.” You get up and smack your cheeks. “Okay, let’s go.”

Hansuke bounces up and down a little. “So, (Y/n), you say U.A. wrongfully put the baby project onto your course as a way to duck-”

“Ha!” You snort. Hansuke has one hand on his mouth and the other on his hip. His body is shaking from him trying to keep in his laughter. He wears red construction paper taped to his back like wings. On his face are glasses that resemble Hawks’s old costume along with a puffer jacket. He looks ridiculous and his suggestion of putting on Hawks’s eyebrows is too much.

“(Y/n)!” You turn to look at Riko who has her hands on her hips. You perk up. “Is Noa okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine. I’m talking about you! You need to take this seriously.” Before you can retort, she claps her hands. “Chop, chop! Get to work!”

You stick your tongue out at her. In the distance is a creak. You frown and crane your neck to look behind Riko. “Mm, probably nothing.”

“What’d you mean?” She cocks her head to the left. You point behind her. “I thought I heard something. Eh, it’s nothing.”

Riko decides to watch the class study and scold you when you laugh at the bootleg Hawks. Minus the way he’s acting and looking, you’re actually pretty good. There are still some valid arguments he makes but you are getting better. Way farther than when you started.

“I’m gonna go check the kids.” Riko walks off to the corner.

Suddenly, as you are laughing and chewing on your chips, Riko calls out Noa’s and Kobeni’s names. You frown and yell, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Those two are probably hiding!” You can hear her footsteps walking around. You lick the red seasoning off your fingers and clap your hands. “Okay, there’s a possibility that Hawks decides that our wellbeing is expendable since there is no for sure evidence of anything physically wrong,” Jule scoffs at your statement. Out of everyone, Jule has gone through physical ailments the most. Kaminari is completely pathetic.

“What I mean is, anytime we have the slightest thing wrong, we need to go to Recovery Girl. When she asks why or how be honest. Tell her what’s going on and that afterward, you want a copy of her report. If she says no, tell her it is your right.”

Benio scratches his head. “Is that written somewhere?” You nod and point to Akane’s text. “Right here.”

You hear Riko scream. Everyone pops up and runs to her. Each parent goes to their child first, except you and Benio. Neither Kobeni nor Noa is in sight.

“What’s going on?”

“I can’t find them! The door-the door is open!” It’s as if time stopped. Your heart doesn’t even beat because it feels like it is filled with lead. “Is…is he upstairs?”

“No, no I looked everywhere. The door, the fucking door is open!” The lead in your heart sinks to your feet. Your instincts tell you to run outside and look for him but you are cemented to the carpet. Your eyes are wide and your face is as frozen as your body. Nothing is registering other than his disappearance. Still, you cannot move.

Benio’s the first to run outside. Sakura is on the phone calling someone. Mira holds onto her leg and looks around. It’s chaotic. Everyone is scaring her. Yet, you still can’t move.

Run outside! Call for him! Call Deku! If anyone can find Noa, it’s his dad. Your feet can’t move, though. Your legs have the heaviest weights in the world on them.

With a quiet voice, you ask, “Did you check everything? My room?”

“The doors automatically lock! Your door is shut.” She apologizes repeatedly. Her eyes are misty. Your voice remains a whisper. “The crawlspace?”

“What crawlspace?” Bit by bit your heart starts to lighten. Riko must not have paid attention to the random chair by that window. That’s where the crawlspace is. You run up the stairs.

“Noa! Noa! Kobeni?! Babies please, please answer Mommy!” You scream as you check every corner. “Do you want to talk to Papa?” Deku’s supposed to come over today anyway. Whenever he doesn’t do his internship or work study, whatever the hell it is, he’s with you and Noa. There’s no doubt in the world that Noa doesn’t know his Papa will be home tonight. Maybe he wants to talk to him right now? Sometimes Noa wants that. Even though you haven’t forgiven Papa, you are still very civil in front of Noa. Izuku is also ‘disappointed’ in you, as well.

For Noa, you’ll cave. Your pride and feelings mean nothing. Your cry goes unanswered. There is only a lonely echo desperately searching for an ear that matches his Papa’s.

You look beside the window with a stray chair next to it. In the small crawl space, there is nothing but a cobweb. You take off to your room to find the door shut and locked. The key fumbles in your hand.

“Noa? Kobeni!” You swing the door open and find no one in the open space. There isn’t anyone in here, you can tell, but your desperation searches anyway. Involuntarily, your body starts to shake. Tucked in your back pocket is your phone. Trembling fingers dial the one person who can find him.

“(Y/n)!” His voice sounds light, surprised, delighted, that you called. “Deku…”

Even though you can’t see him physically, you can tell his smile dropped. “Noa’s missing.”

----------

“Where’s the last time you saw them?” Embarrassingly enough, Sakura called Kacchan who is searching outside the gates. Along with him came the rest of the class. Izuku sticks close to you without a word since he was on the phone. “I’m going to go look. Stay here.”

"I have to go!" Your class is spread around looking for them. You feel safer with him; more secure that he's with you in this. There's no way you can't search with him.

"Shouldn't I be looking for him, too?"

Izuku whips his head to stare into your eyes. They don't look normal. Where there is light, it is becoming tainted with a darkness that makes you tense.

"You were supposed to be looking after him in the first place. Stay here." You press yourself against the wall, wanting to shrink from his gaze. "Stay here, (Y/n)." His nose is flared, and steam is practically coming out of his ears. He runs out of the dorm's commons to go on a mad hunt.

You quickly call the restaurant. At the same time, Snipe is yelling at you in the same room fucking Deku left you in with some of your classmates.

“Yona, Noa and Kobeni are missing. Can you look out for him? He knows his way there so he could be headed to you.”

“Of course, baby. What are he and Kobeni wearing?” Your heart is pounding in your ears so loud you can barely understand her. “Um, he’s wearing a red shirt with khaki pants. I didn’t choose that, I swear and Kobeni is wearing a blue sweatsuit, I think.”

“Why is Noa dressed like Jake from State Farm?”

“I don’t know, Yona. He chose it! He took his Deku hoodie off, so he now looks like that.”

Right next to you is Snipe, whose hands are clenched in tight fists. “How can you be so irresponsible?!” Snipe’s mask is off so he can yell at you. Your legs are shaking from the images of Noa in various states. You go to move past him.

“Yona, I need you guys to help me, please! I turned around for two seconds, I swear-”

“I’ve given you a lot of leniencies. Way too much so it seems. This situation and your utter disregard for authority and correction have gone too far. You were irresponsible! Take responsibility now!” He snatches the phone from you and hangs up.

Before you can retort, he continues to growl. “What were you even doing?” Akane tenses up. Her sparkly lips open to answer but you subtly lift your hand to stop her. If Snipe found out what was going on, everything would be for nothing. It hurts that you’re getting the sole blame for it, though.

“You’re judging me? You? Someone who lost an entire teenager?” Snipe growls. “Docked. I’m putting Noa back to two years old.”

“What?!” You can hear Akane gasp. Your face feels warm from all of the negative feelings you feel. From hurt to embarrassment, fear, and anger. All of these are whirling in your body at once like a twister.

“You want him younger? I can do that! We’ll put him back as a newborn so you can start fresh.”

Your shoulders slump. Noa’s come so far and to have that ripped away is cruel. Almost like an artist finally putting the finishing touches on their painting just to have someone come and splatter on it. “Don’t do that…”

“Maybe just scrap Noa altogether?”

“Snipe, stop.” Noa’s former body, the lifeless doll, is something you dread to see again. You should be jumping for joy and relief, but you can’t. He leans into your space. “Two years old and detention.”

“My volunteering-” You can’t afford to lose the income again. He’s turned three and is growing like a weed. You don’t want to be a burden or have Izuku think of him that way. Lord forbid if Kaibara helps with anything.

“Indefinite. Maybe now you’ll get the fucking hint, (Y/n). However long that takes.” His yellow eyes don’t look right. The pupils are dilated too much and the glare is too hard.

You flinch. He has never cussed at you even though you’ve been a mess at times. The remainder of your classmates watch Snipe lose his cool. The heat from your body is too hot. He’s staring at you. Everyone is staring at you. You step back and turn away in shame, hurrying to leave him and this hallway. You enter the dorm’s yard, relishing the fresh air that was taken from you. You’re going all around and immediately stop.

Kaibara stomps towards you. “How could you?!”

You can’t deal with him or Snipe right now. They need to get out of your face and preferably die. Why is he angry? He's never cared about Noa. You run past him until you are grabbed by your arm. “Get off-”

“You had one job. One fucking job and that was to watch him!” He’s squeezing too tight. He, Izuku, and Snipe all have the same eyes. Noa is out there somewhere, and they are busy judging you, hating you. Noa is adventurous. He always walks around, and you always catch him until now. You turned away and are dealing with this. “I-I couldn’t-”

Kaibara shakes you by your arm. “You were supposed to do it!” The sun casts a shadow on him that is all too fitting for his true colors. “Why can’t you do something right? God, I should go to the heroes and ask for a better mother.”

Mother.

You are a bad mom. You’re an awful person, mother, daughter, and student. Noa doesn’t even call you ‘mom’ and now you know why. This look on Kaibara’s face is the same one Izuku and Snipe have. They’re all making this face and saying the same thing. Even Shouto drew to the same conclusion.

You should be a good mother and stop this crusade against heroes. How long will you hold this anger, this pain, that resulted into a fight for a grudge? Kaibara’s angry eyes disappear from your sight. It’s replaced with the vision of Noa’s back facing you and his little feet carrying him away into a fog. As the fog lifts, at your feet is a lifeless Noa with Kobeni’s hand in his. All around are the bodies of the kids you watch grow up.

If it weren’t for you, Benio and the kids wouldn’t be hurt and missing. Your anger and hate have led to Benio’s sorrow and Riko’s guilt. If you weren’t occupied, they all wouldn’t have had to witness your humiliation. They wouldn’t have had to look at you! All because you are a bad mom, Noa and Kobeni are gone.

You whimper as the thoughts run rampant. You close your eyes. The sound of a forceful hit opens your eyes. Kaibara is on the ground with a bloody nose. Above him is Shouto Todoroki who has flared nostrils and a killer glare that isn’t directed toward you.

“I-I need to find him.” You don’t look into his eyes from shame. This whole time you’ve preached about their irresponsibility, and you have fallen into the same trap of stupidity. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll find him.” His hand touches your face. “I’m gonna take you to Recovery Girl, now.”

He wraps his arm around your shoulders. Even though you fall into him, you hate his touch.

"I want to find him, Shouto. I can't leave." He shakes his head no. "You're shaking. I'm not taking any chances."

At least no one is looking at you.

---------

You wait on Recovery Girl’s bed with Shouto. He doesn’t need to stand here with you. “You don’t have to be here.”

“I know.” He answers. Recovery Girl comes up and pats your knee. “Here’s water and a snack.”

What is water and a snack going to do? How’s that going to find Noa?

As if she read your mind, she says in a bedside manner fit for a doctor, “It’s not going to help your predicament with Noa but it will help you. There’s no reason to worry yourself sick. If there is one thing I learned, is that this generation of heroes won't quit.”

There is a reason to worry. Noa is out there in God knows what shape. Worst of all, you are losing touch with reality. Noa's not real, he's fixable. There is a feeling that has eclipsed your anger. Your sense of self is dwindling the more you are affected by this whole thing. Being attached to a doll, letting these people get the best of you, is wearing you down. You aren't this shrinking person. You aren't one to doubt your cause and here you are trying to push it away. The baby project feels like Shigaraki's touch, from the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you decay.

“How many times has this happened?”

You say nothing. Recovery Girl sighs. “I knew this project was a bad idea.”

Riko comes in with her hand rubbing her arm. She isn’t looking at you. Hesitantly, she asks, “Are you okay?”

The old hero answers for you. “She’s fine, physically. But I do suggest she rests for the rest of the day. Okay?” The old woman turns to you. “Noa will be fine. There are fully equipped people on the case.”

Recovery Girl pets your head soothingly. Her wrinkled lips move subtly. “This project has gone too far…”

“(Y/n),” Riko’s voice shakes. Right before she can continue, Snipe comes into the room. You sit up and wipe your face. Shouto hasn’t left your side the whole time.

“We have some things we need to talk about now.” Snipe points his finger at you. “First off, what the hell were you doing to let him wander off like that?” He’s already yelled at you. What else does he want?

Riko speaks up, “Snipe-” You wave your fingers. She immediately shuts up. Snipe looks between you two. “What, Riko? What were you about to say?”

She stares into your eyes. If you let her run her mouth, it will reflect negatively on her. With this investigation or whatever on Mineta, what happened will most likely be used against her. What if they let him back in? What if they don’t take anyone else seriously because she isn’t perfect? The heroes already have an opinion of you. They drew to the conclusion that you were at fault before anything was even looked into.

You can’t let the truth be known. If they knew what you were doing during that time, it’d all be for nothing. You could always bring your grade up somehow and protect yourself from failure. But is your grade and vengeance worth what Benio, Kobeni and Noa are going through? If Riko is found out, what would happen to her and the class? To Noa? Even though what they are saying is hurting, you'll keep your mouth shut for your friends and your son.

Aizawa and Nezu come in after Snipe. Riko stands against the wall. Her left eye lets a single tear flow as you are berated for something you didn’t do. The sin you committed was leaving him in Riko’s care. Nineteen children were under her watch. You should’ve known better and not have her watch him. As Nezu scolds you for your actions, you can’t help but harbor resentment towards her and Noa. It's awful, you are an awful person for passing the blame.

Mei comes in with Noa on her hip. Noa smiles wide and waves at everyone. Mei sets him down when he wiggles towards you. She walks quickly to Nezu and hands him a remote. She says nothing to you, nor does she acknowledge you. Something says that it isn’t from disappointment or anger, but dread.

Noa excitedly begins to tell you about his day. “Mm! Kobeni-” He still won’t say ‘mom’. From the corner of your eye, you spot Snipe crossing his arms. You flinch at first. Noa, already three years old and aware of his surroundings, stops mid step.

Nezu gestures. “Now is the time to explain what’s wrong.” They want you to scold him right now. He may not even know what he did wrong. In class, he knows he’s supposed to be calm. However, you never discouraged him from hanging out with his friends. To him, if you punish him, it may shock him immensely. You don't know what to do.

Noa’s slowly coming toward you, very aware of your expression. With a gentle and loving voice, you ask, “Noa, why did you run away? You weren’t supposed to go so far-”

“They are not allowed to leave unsupervised, (L/n).” Nezu is firm with his tone. Your lip wobbles when you look back at Noa, who is looking nervous. “Baby boy, next time you want to walk around, make sure I’m with you. Leaving like that could’ve gotten you hurt.”

He stomps his feet in protest. Eyes study the scene in front of them. Their judgment leaves an unwanted chill along your body that tenses from it. To your dismay, Noa notices. He stops his pouting, confused on why you are acting unusual.

“It’ll be okay, little love. But please, don’t do that again.” You rub his arms.

“Mmm! It’s fun!” You understand. It’s hard for a toddler to sit still. His intentions were good, no doubt. There's a difference with his behavior in this situation than in class. He doesn't know what he's done exactly. He hasn't been taught this yet.

“(L/n),” Snipe calls in a low voice. “Tell Noa to stand still.” Nezu holds the remote with Mei’s chibi face on it. He’s doing it.

“Is this really necessary?” Shouto places his hand on yours. You begin to shake. “Stop, please.” You whisper. Noa has his hands out. “Don’t cry!”

Nezu presses the button on the left. “Please, wait! Please!"

It’s too late. He who was once the tallest has lost inches of his height. His clothes are baggier too. Izuku just got him those Ingenium sneakers and now he’s flooding them.

Recovery Girl shakes her head. Her cold hands press on your body. Your gaze is set on Noa. She scolds the heroes. “You people really are cruel.”

They say nothing. Instead, they just look at you. You can feel them study you. Shouto hasn't used his quirk, yet you are somehow frozen stiff.

Izuku comes in. His eyes find you first then Noa. “What?”

“Papa!” His voice is different, too. It sounds like how it was before. Izuku clearly notices. You can't bear to look him.

Nezu straightens up and separates his eyes from you. “Midoriya, we were just in the middle of talking with (L/n). If you want to talk to her, you must wait.”

His eyes dart around. He spies Shouto, his dear friend next to the bed with his arm around you. The vibrant greens then go to Riko who is plastered against the wall. Her state is worse than yours, maybe. The teachers speak in things you’re not understanding right now.

“Is she in trouble?” He asks quietly. Nezu sighs but will not address you. He has lost his harsh tone. His small arms are behind his back. “This can’t be ignored. Her irresponsibility can’t go on.”

“No. If you are going to yell at her, you have to do it to me, too.”

“You weren’t there, Midoriya. I commend you for your initiative to find Noa and Kobeni today, but (L/n)’s responsible for her own actions. You can’t keep taking the blame for her.”

Ah. So he did get in trouble when Noa peed on Eraserhead.

“I’m his dad. I’m just as responsible as she is.” He stands in front of you. “Midoriya, with all due respect, you aren’t his father.”

Snipes adds something stupid, “Which brings me to the other problem. Why is he answering to Noa Midoriya?”

Finally, you mutter with a voice that became raspy from your scream. “Because that’s his name.”

Aizawa cuts in. “No, he’s Kaibara’s son, (Y/n). I know what happened between you is upsetting, but that is his son. I completely understand distancing yourself from him. But the least you can do is include him in the report. The other mistake is putting Noa onto Midoriya.” His voice has lost its aggression. His head is lowered when he addresses you.

Izuku clenches his fists. “How much sense does that make? And she hasn’t kept Kaibara from him. He stays away.” Izuku interrupts them. “And I am Noa’s dad. That’s why he called me Papa. If Kaibara is upset about it, tell him to come to me and not run behind you.”

“Midoriya!” Eraserhead scolds. It doesn’t stop the god child. “My name may not be on the paper but that is my kid. I’m the one who raises him with (Y/n). Not Kaibara. If she’s in trouble, extend that to me. Us being treated the same is only fair."

“Her length of detention is indefinite. That’d get in the way of your work study.” Nezu points out. Izuku scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Look at Noa.” Reluctantly they look at the toddler. “What more can you do to her? What the hell is detention compared to that?”

With a gesture in your direction, he asks the nurse, “Is she alright?” Recovery Girl straightens up. Clearly, she’s not used to his authoritative voice. “Yes, she’s fine. I am suggesting she rests. And you,” She pokes you. “Tomorrow, I want you back here so I can check on you. If this isn’t the first time this has happened, I need to report it.”

Your eyes are still focused on nothing but the distance. "All of us. Check all of us."

“What do you mean?” Snipe uncrosses his arms and takes a step forward. His mask is on and not a hint of his face is shown. You feel warm as everyone's eyes are on you. Last month you felt like your world was crumbling and today is the same. When this project started, you thought you’d be able to separate yourself enough to not get affected like this. Alas, it was a fool’s dream.

You get off the bed with Noa. Riko still stands there against the wall. Her eyes are glossy as she watches. She sucks in her lips then tries to confess. She’s losing it. She opens her mouth. “Wait, it was-”

With the simplest wave by your leg to stop her. Izuku’s eyes go from the movement next to your thigh to Riko’s expression. You walk out with Noa on your hip. He goes on about his day with Kobeni. Apparently, he was trying to find and introduce Yona and Ken but found an actual ladybug that looked like Yona and got distracted. You figured his intentions were pure.

In your room, you set Noa down. Your eyes have remained lowered, and you are silent. Izuku comes into the room after you and encourages Noa to play.

“(Y/n).” You hum. “What really happened?” He questions. You shake your head and shrug. “I messed up. You heard everyone.”

It hurts. What they say about you feels like hundreds of cuts. Seeing Noa regress in his age tore your heart.

“(Y/n), please.” You ignore him and sit down on your desk chair. Noa’s back is facing you, he’s completely oblivious to his parents and the year he lost. Deku stands in front of you and runs his hand through his green curls. Izuku gets on his knees. He slides you over to him and wraps his arms around your midsection. His face is against your stomach. “I’m sorry.”

You say nothing. He talks instead. “I blamed you and wrongly took my anger out on you. I’m so sorry, my dear.” Again, you don’t even give a whisper. He presses kisses on your stomach and works his way up. His hand cups your face to his wet cheek. “Forgive me. I’m so, so, sorry. It’ll never happen again.”

Sweet words from someone who doesn’t know the meaning. His other hand goes to your other cheek to pull you to his lips. Your eyes get big for a second until his lips are gently on your forehead. The pressure behind your eyes is appearing once again. “I’m a villain and a bad mom.”

His tears match yours. “Never. You are amazing. He would have never made it this far if it wasn’t for you. Do you understand? They are wrong. I was wrong.”

“He ran away, Izuku. He could’ve gotten hurt.” Your voice wobbles. He kisses your chin. “It was an accident. One that you didn’t do.”

Your breath hitches. “No, no, it was me.”

“Honey, I’m not blind. I saw you and Riko.” He rubs circles on your waist. You make contact with his eyes again. “Please, don’t say anything. If anyone asks, it was me.”

“Why?”

“There were some questions about Mineta or something. I don't know much about it.” You grab his arm. “She isn’t a perfect victim. What if they don’t take it seriously and let him back in? This could hurt her.”

Before he says anything, you interrupt him. “It was an accident. We came up with a system for a caregiver. One of us would watch the tots while the others study. We’d rotate the job and help each other with school! She came into the room and Noa and Kobeni snuck out. Izuku, please don’t tell. It was an innocent mistake. Noa’s learned to open doors, she didn’t expect it.”

He kisses your cheek. Since he started, he's been peppering kisses on you and avoiding your lips. Given the situation, you're grateful.

“You are the kindest person I’ve ever met.” He sighs. “This is not happening again, understand?” Izuku wipes away the dampness on your face with his thumbs. He’s gotten very bold with you. Despite your usual snark towards him and the world, you can’t find it in you to push him away. Instead, you nestle into his comfort after this long day. Hopefully, this pain will subside, and you’ll never see those eyes again. You hope that rather than remembering what happened with Noa, you'll remember how you didn't kiss him then dream of what could've been.

“You okay?” Noa comes from behind Izuku. Immediately, you straighten up and put a smile on your face for Noa. He frowns and raises his eyebrow. “You know what we should do?” Izuku leans into Noa’s ear. You don’t know what he’s said, but he pulls you down to the ground.

“What-oh no.” Him and Noa poke and tickle you. You laugh from the sensation but not from joy. At least Noa’s smiling and not scared anymore.

--------

You lay down next to Noa who has reverted back to sleeping with you rather than his little bed. It’s terrible because of the lack of space in both the bed and the room. At least he’s still potty trained and isn’t having an accident in the bed.

The only light in the room is from Noa’s nightlight. The hero symbols that display on the ceiling from it disgust you. Most of these heroes you've never met and God willing, you never will. Izuku lays in bed with you with Noa in between you. “I’m so sorry.”

He's already said that. He presses, “Tell me what to do. Anything to make it better.” He caresses your face. Really, he didn't do something out of the ordinary for a parent. What's wrong is that he didn't question your guilt and didn't give you a chance to explain until afterwards. What's wrong was the way he looked at you. Because of that, there is something in your mind. He complimented you, yes, but you want his honesty.

You ask him, “Am I a bad person?”

Are you wrong for your cause? What has been broken in you is turning into anger again. Are you wrong for your feelings? What happened today affected you and others. Was your longing for justice worth it if the results are shards? Your pride shouts for you to stand and start swinging but your mind keeps repeating everyone’s words like a song on a broken record. They all can kiss your ass, but Noa's smaller frame steals your scream. All of this, does it make you a bad person? Not just a mom, student, daughter and worker, but a human being?

“No. You aren’t bad. No matter what you try to show me, you could never be wrong. Except for with some of your homework.”

You smile a little. “I barely know you.” Yet there is something that says you do. Izuku's forehead touches yours. "I don't think it matters with us." He's gotten so bold, and you don't mind. His reassurance of his care is helping put what is broken back together, slowly.

Your eyelids are growing heavy, and the pillow has gotten softer. Right before your light is out for the night, you hear in the distance, “As long as it’s you, do whatever you want.”

If these pieces you are mending together result into the same wrath as before, Izuku, would you still say that? Would your friendship stay?

@xoxoangellll @js-favnanadoongi @imas1mpp @candiiee @moodyhuesworld @dinorawrss @luvrluvrr @bigchungusdrinksspritecranberry @d4n1elll4

if i didn't get you, let me know!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha #izuku midoriya #midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #deku #deku x reader #bnha deku #mha deku #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia fanfic #mha fanfic #my hero academia fanfic #izuku x reader #midoriya x reader #q

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iitslera · 20 hours ago

Text

Kai's first Christmas : JJ Maybank Dad x Reader (Gigi) Mom

Summary: JJ and his girlfriend (reader named Grace) celebrating Kai’s first Christmas

Warnings: English is not my first language (use of iphone translator), I don’t use y/n (reader is called Grace or Gigi as JJ calls her), Other than that, I think it’s pure fluff.

Based on baby on the way : JJ as a dad masterlist

A/n: I’m receiving requests from JJ and Rafe, (im hoped to improve my level of English soon to stop using the iPhone translator) enjoy

I had always imagined celebrating Christmas surrounded by friends, with laughter, lights, and a little chaos. But this year was different. Now I had a small family: JJ and Kai. Christmas wasn’t just another holiday anymore; it was a time to create memories that, although Kai wouldn’t understand yet, would forever be etched in our hearts.

“What do you think, little one? Do you think your dad overdid it with the lights?” I asked, holding Kai in my arms as we watched JJ trying to plug a third string of lights into an already overloaded outlet.

“You can’t have too many lights, Gigi,” JJ replied in that carefree tone of his that always made me smile. “It’s Christmas. If we don’t look like a house straight out of a holiday movie, what’s the point?”

Kai let out a babble that could’ve been agreement. She was always on his side. She had adored him from the moment she was born.

Our little tree was decorated with ornaments JJ had found at a thrift store and some I had made with whatever we had at home. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but to me, it was the most beautiful tree in the world.

“We’re here!” The door burst open, and the unmistakable voices of our friends filled the house.

John B was the first to walk in, carrying a box of cookies with a suspiciously bitten corner. Sarah and Kiara followed with bags full of gifts, while Cleo and Pope came in balancing what looked like a giant cake.

“Isn’t it a little early to start snacking, John B?” I teased, pointing at the box of cookies.

“What? I couldn’t let them get cold,” he said with a mischievous grin. “Besides, these are for Kai. Well, some of them. Maybe half.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and gave me a quick hug. “Grace, the house looks amazing. Did you do all this?”

“JJ and I did,” I said, smiling. “Well, mostly him. You know how he is with lights.”

“Where’s my favorite niece?” Kiara asked, stretching out her arms for Kai.

“My only niece, you mean?” I joked, handing her the baby. Kai settled into Kie’s arms with a curious smile, probably fascinated by the beaded necklaces she was wearing.

JJ emerged from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate, proudly showing off his ridiculous reindeer sweater. “You guys started without me? I thought everyone would wait for the star dad to open presents.”

Cleo snorted, crossing her arms. “Of course, because it’s always all about you, huh, JJ?”

“Exactly.” JJ winked at her, and we all burst out laughing.

Kai was the center of attention, as always. Sarah had brought her a little reindeer hat that was slightly too big, but it didn’t matter; with that hat and her big, bright eyes, it was impossible not to look at her with pure adoration.

During dinner, the jokes flew back and forth. Pope was telling a ridiculous story about how he had tried to cook a turkey last year and nearly set the kitchen on fire. Sarah and Kie kept interrupting him with sarcastic comments, and Cleo couldn’t stop laughing.

When it was finally time to open presents, everyone insisted Kai should go first.

“What do you say, princess?” JJ knelt in front of her, holding a gift wrapped so poorly it looked like a five-year-old had done it.

“Is this a present for her or a test of your patience?” Cleo teased, laughing.

“Ha, ha, very funny,” JJ said, helping Kai tear the paper.

Underneath the wrapping was a stuffed teddy bear dressed in tiny overalls. JJ had picked it out because, according to him, “it looked like me, but more adorable.” Kai hugged it immediately, letting out a squeal of delight that made everyone in the room melt.

“Definitely the best gift,” Sarah said, pulling out her phone to snap pictures.

“Well, you haven’t seen my gift yet,” Pope said, pointing to a big box by the tree.

It was a brand-new stroller, something we really needed but hadn’t been able to afford. My heart swelled with gratitude.

“Pope, you didn’t have to…” I said, walking over to hug him.

“Of course I did,” he said, smiling. “We’re family. Besides, I knew JJ wasn’t going to buy one.”

“Hey!” JJ protested, but he couldn’t hide his grin.

The night went on with laughter, games, and a whirlwind of wrapping paper. When everyone had finally gone to sleep, JJ and I sat together on the couch. Kai was asleep in my arms, her teddy bear clutched tightly to her chest.

“So, what do you think of our first Christmas with Kai?” JJ asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

“It was perfect,” I said, resting my head on his shoulder. “More than I could’ve asked for.”

He kissed my forehead softly. “Next year will be even better. I promise I’ll make every Christmas special for her. And for you.”

I looked at him, knowing he meant it. JJ wasn’t perfect, but he was the most devoted and loving man I knew. As long as we were together, I knew everything would be okay.

The fireplace was still crackling, and the lights on the tree twinkled softly in the darkness. As I gently stroked Kai’s tiny head, I thought about how lucky I was. My little family, my friends… everything was exactly where it needed to be.

That night, as snow began to fall outside, I knew this Christmas would be the first of many unforgettable ones.

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rayhalloffame · 22 hours ago

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Early pro Art Donaldson who loves the attention he gets from his fans. He’s not bothered when they approach him in public and ask for pictures. He’ll even press a flirty kiss to their cheek when he really likes them. Which is why he’s a little taken aback when the pretty thing across the bar hasn’t looked his direction. Even while posing for pictures with fans and nursing his beer, he keeps glancing your way.

He notices the birthday tiara you’re wearing, takes it as an opportunity to buy you a drink. Art orders 2 tequila shots before heading your way, lopsided grin already prepared to charm. What he doesn’t expect is for you to notice him, roll your eyes, and turn your back to him. It stops him in his tracks.

Art sees one of your friends gesture at you. She recognizes him and he gives her a small wave. Almost begrudgingly you turn again and take the few paces to meet him where he stands. “Hey, what’s up?” you ask, very casually.

“Um,” Art sputters, then pushes the hand forward that holds your drink. “Happy birthday,” he says. You both stand blinking at each other. “I got you a drink,” he says.

“No, thanks,” you reply easily.

“Um, why?”

“I don’t know you.”

“You don’t?” He looks almost hurt when he asks.

You cross your arms over your chest with a huff. Art tries not to glance down at the exaggerated cleavage you created. He fails. “I know who you are, but I don’t know you. You could’ve done anything to those.”

Art looks offended. How could you think that of him? He’s a nice guy! He voices as much. You tell him if he wants to buy you a drink so bad you want to watch the bartender pour it.

Art doesn’t even know why he’s so invested. You’re clearly not impressed by him but he could point out at least 6 people who were if he glanced around. Still, he downs both shots and gestures for you to lead the way to the bar.

You lean against the bartop to indicate your interest in buying a drink. Art comes to lean beside you. “Read something in the press that has you hating on me?”

You scoff, look in his direction, then roll your eyes. “The press raves about you,” you answer, pausing to order the drinks. When you look back at him you say, “but I can tell you’re arrogant, full of yourself. It’s not hard to miss the way you bask in the attention.”

The shots are poured and you slide him his glass. The bartender chuckles when you tell him Art Donaldson is paying for your drinks tonight. Art only bats his lashes, you’re giving him whiplash. “You seem to have that same confidence,” he rebuts, but doesn’t retract your statement to the bartender.

You clink your tiny glass to his, hold eye contact a moment. You make your eyes nice and big, flash a cute smile. Art can see how young you really are, how full of life. “Well, it is my birthday.” You chuck the drink back, noticing how Art’s eyes follow the droplet that falls down the corner of your mouth. Instinctively he reaches for it, wants to swipe it into your mouth with his thumb.

You stop him with a hand to his wrist. Art watches you complete the motion on your own and he gulps. Once you pop your thumb from your mouth, you give him one more innocent smile, pop up on your tippy toes and press a kiss to his cheek. Your sticky lipgloss leaves a residue but Art can’t find himself to mind. You drop back down and look at him expectantly.

“Happy birthday,” he tells you, incredulous. You drop his wrist, then pluck the glass of tequila that he’s still holding from his other hand. He thinks you might be a witch.

“Thank you, Artie,” you say sweetly. He watches you walk away, swooning. He sits on the barstool closest him and shakes his head to wipe the fog. He takes another look over his shoulder to find you sneaking a glance at him. Art grants you his typical crooked smile. You both know: he’s going to break you.

#challengers #art donaldson #art donalson x reader #let me know if you want a part 2 to this #this was fun

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ak319 · 2 days ago

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Yan G!P Princess x fem reader

PART XI ➺ Prev

tag: @nayykura

The door to your shared chambers clicked shut behind you with a finality that made your chest ache. Kade didn’t say a word at first, her silence looming over you like a heavy storm cloud. An awkward silence ensued as you remained in front of the vanity taking off your coat and bracelet.

Kade leaned against the door for a moment, her hazel eyes sharp and unreadable as they fixed on you. Then, her voice cut through the silence. “You’re upset.”

You scoffed, still staring at the floor. “Upset?” you echoed, your voice low with simmering anger. “That’s one way to put it. Humiliated might be a better word.”

Kade pushed off the door and crossed the room with slow, measured steps. “Deniz,” she began, her tone softer now, but it only grated on your nerves more. “I didn’t mean to-”

“You didn’t mean to?” you snapped, finally looking up at her. “You shushed me like I was a child, Kade. In front of your family. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

Kade straightened, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. Her presence, so commanding even in its restraint, sent your nerves into overdrive. “You embarrassed yourself first,” she said, her tone calm but cutting.

"You don't get to dictate what I say or DO! I am not five!" You slammed your watch on the dressing before moving to the walk in wardrobe. The door which was about to be slammed was stopped by her hand as she pushed in inside , and threw it back behind her, trapping you with her .

"Calm down. I was there discussing something important. I was doing it FOR YOU! You think I don't fucking see how he insults you and taunts you!? This family can be ruthless as fuck to the outsiders! And you have only seen the glimpse of it! SO LET ME DO THIS FOR US!"

Your steps backed away as you flopped on the small loveseat , your chest shaking with sobs.

"You could’ve said something afterward. Privately. But you didn’t. You just let me sit there, feeling like I’d done something wrong."

Kade exhaled, her shoulders dropping as if the weight of her own actions had finally hit her. "You’re right, love, I am sorry." she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I should have. I let my frustration get the better of me. But, Deniz…” She stepped closer again, cupping your face gently, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I need you to trust me. Even when it doesn’t make sense, even when it hurts. Because everything I do, it’s for us.”

Her hand reached for yours, but you pulled back, stepping away as anger bubbled to the surface. “Stop pretending this is about protecting me,” you said, your voice breaking. “You embarrassed me, Kade. Get the fuck away . You made me feel small in front of your family. Do you know how that felt?”

Kade’s expression softened slightly, the rigid lines of her face easing as she reached for you again, this time slower, gentler. “You think I wanted to hurt you?” she asked quietly. “You think it doesn’t tear me apart when I see you upset?”

You refused to let her words weaken your resolve. Standing up abruptly, you wiped at your face, brushing away any trace of vulnerability. “Fine then,” you said, your voice trembling but steady enough to hold your ground. “Explain what the fuck you meant about family.”

“Family?” she echoed, tilting her head with a deliberate air of confusion.

“Don’t act dumb,” you snapped, your anger cracking through the tension like a whip.

Her frown softened, but not into an expression of understanding. No, it was something far worse. Disbelief. Mocking disbelief, as if you’d accused her of something utterly ridiculous.

“Um,” she began, her tone dripping with exaggerated innocence, “I don’t know what you think you heard, darling, but I simply stated a fact.”

The way she said "darling" twisted the knife in your chest. Your silence, sharp and deliberate, only seemed to encourage her, her hazel eyes lighting up with the faintest flicker of amusement.

That flicker made your stomach churn.

And there it was. That familiar tactic. She’d deploy it like clockwork, the way she always did. To make you crumble beneath the weight of her facts, no, her orders. Words you would have no choice but to accept, sooner or later.

Another chapter in her story. Another headache for you. And yet, she carried on without pause, as if this wasn’t breaking you piece by piece.

“And since you’re so curious,” she began, her tone laced with the kind of patronizing patience that made your skin crawl, “I’ll clarify. Family means responsibility. It means building something, someone, who carries the legacy forward. It’s what’s expected of us, of you.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. You stood frozen, your mind racing to process the implications. Kade’s sharp gaze lingered on you, waiting, almost daring you to push back.

She leaned in slightly, close enough that her presence seemed to fill every inch of the space between you. “This isn’t about what you want, Deniz. It’s about what you owe,” she said softly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It needed to be addressed anyway."

You felt like you were about to faint at the mere thought.

The slight curve of her lips, the gleam in her eyes, it was all calculated. She thrived on the control, the way each truth she laid bare chipped away at your resistance.

It wasn’t just another conversation. It was another victory for her. Another reminder that in this twisted dynamic, she always managed to stay one step ahead.

“No!” Your voice erupted before she could finish. “No, no, no!”

“Quiet-”

"YOU HAVE LOST IT!" You stepped back, your chest heaving as the words tumbled out like a dam had burst. “Me?! Having kids with you?! I don’t even know if I want kids! I’m not fond of them! And even if I ever decided, ever, to have them, it wouldn’t be with you!”

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the ragged breaths you struggled to steady. Kade’s face darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line, but it was her eyes, the cold glint in her hazel gaze that made your skin prickle.

“Are you done?” she asked, her voice dangerously low, the calm before a storm.

"Fuck it - I've HAD IT TODAY!" Before you could unlock the door her hand shot out, grabbing your arm and propelling you backward with a force that left no room for protest. You stumbled, your back colliding with the edge of the cupboard. The sound of wood creaking under the impact filled the room, and your heart raced as Kade moved in closer, pinning you in place with her towering presence.

Her hands planted firmly on either side of you, trapping you between her and the polished wood. "Say that again," she demanded, her hazel eyes narrowing with a mixture of fury and something far more unnerving determination. “Tell me how you’ll never have children with me. Go on, Deniz. I dare you.”

Your breathing was uneven, but anger pushed through the fear as you glared up at her. “I’ll say it a thousand times if I have to! I. Will. Never. Have. Kids. With. You!” you snapped, your voice trembling but defiant.

Kade’s lips curled into a humorless smirk, one that sent a chill down your spine. “You think shouting at me will change anything?” she asked, her voice softening into something far more chilling. “You can scream until your voice gives out, but it won’t make me let this go.”

She leaned in, her face just inches from yours, her breath warm against your skin. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about you, Deniz. This is about us. About the future we’re building together, whether you like it or not."

You squirmed, trying to push her away, but she pressed you back against the cupboard, her grip firm yet not painful, just enough to make it clear that you weren’t going anywhere. “Let me go!” you demanded, your voice cracking under the weight of the situation.

Her hand came up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face in an infuriatingly gentle gesture that contrasted sharply with the intensity in her eyes. “No,” she said simply, her voice steady and unwavering. "I won’t let you run from this, Deniz. From me."

The defiance in your gaze faltered for just a moment under the sheer weight of her presence, but you forced yourself to hold your ground. “You can’t control me, Kade,” you spat, the words sharp but trembling. “I’m not some accessory for your perfect little life!”

Her smirk widened, though it still lacked any warmth. “Oh, but you are mine,” she murmured, her voice low and dripping with certainty. "And I don’t let go of what’s mine. Keep that in your mind. Got it? Don't take it easy with me. I can be rough when I wanna be.."

Your body instantly froze at her implication , throat going dry and if she didn't let go of you that moment, you were seconds away from collapsing. The room now filled with her absence made you finally breathe as you slid down against the cupboard.

The pounding in your head returned, stronger and more relentless than before, as tears spilled down your cheeks. You buried your face in your hands, feeling every emotion crash over you, fear, anger, helplessness all consuming you at once.

Hours passed in that spot, the weight of her words echoing in your mind. You didn’t dare move, didn’t even try to stand. The realization of what your life had become held you captive, as if standing would make it all more real.

From the other room, you could hear the faint sound of Kade settling into the bed. She didn’t return to you, didn’t check on you. It was as if she was content letting you sit there, shattered, to process everything on your own. Perhaps she thought it was for the best or perhaps she simply didn’t care.

And so you stayed, huddled on the floor, your breath ragged and uneven as you tried to piece together what was left of your resolve. Meanwhile, she slept outside, her control over you unshaken, her presence lingering even in her absence. She hated leaving you like this, but to her, it was necessary. Necessary to let it all sink in.

Necessary to remind you of her power.

════∘◦❁◦∘════

The next day passed in a haze. Kade was immersed in her routine, her confidence and composure unshaken, while you buried yourself in whatever scraps of normalcy you could find. You avoided her, avoided the heavy silence that her presence brought.

But it was no use. The weight of it all followed you everywhere.

"Enough!" you snapped, your voice sharper than intended. Ruby, the makeup artist, flinched, pulling back her brush mid-swipe. Her wide eyes darted to yours in alarm.

"I--I can do it myself," you stammered, your fingers trembling as you gestured toward your face. "No, I think it's enough. Sorry..." You stood abruptly, brushing your hands down your clothes as though trying to smooth away the awkwardness that now hung in the air.

Embarrassment clawed at your chest as the others in the room exchanged subtle glances. They said nothing, their gazes avoiding yours, but you could feel the unspoken words lingering in the space between you. They understood, somehow, maybe not the details, but the emotions you wore like armor. Ironic, wasn’t it?

The ones outside these gilded walls, who didn’t know the weight of the locked doors and whispered threats, seemed to recognize your struggle. Whether they chose to ignore it or silently sympathized, at least they never pressured you. They left you space to breathe.

But the ones inside, the ones who shared those suffocating halls with you, always found a way to twist the knife, to exploit the cracks in your resolve. Each interaction felt like a fresh wound, another reminder of the control you couldn’t escape.

Katie’s voice broke the silence, her tone polite yet efficient. “It’s alright, your Highness. I’ll order some tea for you, ma'am.” She immediately took charge, gently ushering Ruby and her team out of the room.

The door clicked shut, and the muffled sounds of the bustling palace beyond faded. You were left in the quiet of the room, alone with your thoughts. You glanced at the clock, just 15 minutes until the garden party started. Another pointless event in a long line of them. Stupid parties.

Katie, seemingly unaware of the storm swirling inside your mind, continued with her duties, her voice respectful but distant. "Um, ma'am, tomorrow there's another event. A match for the Vitality Blast cricket league. You’ll need to attend, and the departure time is set for 11 a.m."

You didn’t respond right away, letting her words hang in the air. Another obligation. Another show to put on.

"Very well," you finally said, your voice cold and distant. The words were mechanical, as if they weren’t yours to say. You didn’t care for the game. You didn’t care for the royal appearances.

The moment the tea was placed on the table, the familiar scent of it filled the room, but instead of offering comfort, it twisted something deep in your stomach. You couldn’t bear the thought of drinking it, the mere smell of it nauseating you. Without thinking, you pushed the chair back and quickly stood, your legs shaky as you moved toward the door.

Just as you reached for the handle, it swung open, and there she was , Kade. Her presence loomed in the doorway, tall and imposing as always, her gaze soft but predatory.

"Is my wife ready? Oh, there you are. Looking perfect as always, love."

Before you could say a word, she was beside you, her arm slipping around your waist, guiding you forward. You stiffened under her touch, the heat of her skin pressing against yours, but you didn’t have the energy to fight back. She didn’t seem to notice or care.

Her eyes flicked toward you as she led you out, a soft but unreadable expression on her face. She was walking beside you as though nothing had happened the night before, as though her cold words and the way she’d gripped you hadn’t left marks, both physical and emotional. The smoothness of her stride contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside you.

"You look absolutely perfect, darling," she continued, her voice far too sweet, as if she were complimenting a doll, not a person.

The garden was just ahead, the sound of guests talking and the soft clinking of glasses waiting for you. You could almost feel the eyes of the others watching, and the realization hit you again: this was your life now, a life under her control, her rules.

You tried to steel yourself, but the more you felt her hand on your waist, the more your own discomfort grew.

As you and Kade made your way toward the garden, the sounds of light chatter and laughter grew louder, the hum of the gathering filling the air. The royal staff were everywhere, their uniforms impeccable, ensuring everything ran smoothly. The atmosphere was polite, poised, and, as always, almost suffocating in its perfection.

You could already spot King Ewan standing near a large, decorated stone fountain at the center of the garden, his presence commanding. He was deep in conversation with a few guests, but his sharp eyes noticed you and Kade immediately. Queen Bella stood by his side, her elegance effortlessly drawing attention. Her soft smile was the picture of royal grace, though there was a touch of something unreadable in her gaze when it met yours.

Kade’s arm remained firmly around your waist as she guided you toward the royal couple. Every step felt heavy, like walking through a long, dark tunnel, with no escape in sight. You could sense the anticipation that followed you both, the weight of your title already making you feel small under the sharp eyes of the gathered nobles.

As you approached, King Ewan’s lips curved into a pleasant smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. His voice was rich, deep, and commanding as he spoke.

"Well, there they are," he said, his eyes flicking between you and Kade. "The newlywed couple. About time." His gaze lingered a moment longer on you than it did on Kade, as if sizing you up.

You forced a tight smile, bowing your head slightly in respect. “Your Majesty.” Oh how you fucking hate addressing this monster with respect.

Queen Bella offered a soft, practiced smile. She was the epitome of royal poise, but there was a quiet observation in her eyes as she looked at you. “You and Kade are looking lovely together, of course.”

You nodded, a slight unease gnawing at you, and could only manage a muted reply, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Kade, however, seemed at ease, her grip on your waist tightening slightly as she moved forward to greet her parents. “Father, Mother,” she said, her voice warm yet controlled. “It’s good to be here. Everything’s going perfectly, isn’t it?”

King Ewan nodded, his gaze flickering briefly over the guests before turning back to Kade. “It is, as always,” he agreed. “The guests seem pleased. I trust you’ve been well?”

Kade’s smile widened, a sense of pride in her expression as she nodded. “Of course. Everything is in order.” She then turned to you, her gaze softening in a manner that didn’t seem entirely genuine.

The media buzzed in the distance, but you barely glanced at them, your mind stuck in a dark place while demands for your attention and smiles kept coming. Being the wife. Being the Princess. This was it. So fun, right?

Then, like a gentle breeze, Julian appeared beside you, his light-hearted jokes trying to lift your spirits. You knew what he was doing, and for once, you didn’t mind it.

Soon, Romana , Adelyn and Idris joined who immediately jumped to meet Julian and the conversation flowed with you mostly listening.

"So yeah, she is expecting. 4 months in. Good observation, Julian."

"Not that hard, considering how I saw her eat that weird food combo last time at supper," Julian said, his eyes glinting mischievously as he nudged you lightly. "She had mashed potatoes, pickles, and… chocolate chips, all on the same plate. I still don't know how she makes it work."

"You’re lucky we’re in public, Julian," Adelyn chimed in, laughing as she playfully swatted at his arm. You couldn’t help but feel a brief flicker of normalcy in their teasing, a momentary distraction from everything else weighing on you. You hadn’t realized it until then, but the conversation had shifted toward something more personal, something more human. They weren’t just royal figures anymore; they were people---people you’d either come to trust or come to fear. And in that moment, there was something soothing in their presence, something that momentarily cut through the suffocating expectations.

You cleared your throat, offering a soft, almost inaudible, "Congratulations, both of you."

Romana turned to you, her gaze softer than before. Her tone was warmer, but there was a subtle understanding behind it, as though she could feel the weight behind your words. "Thank you, Deniz. I know...a big change." Her voice held a quiet kindness, as if she were speaking not just about the baby but about everything that had been happening. With you. "Good to see you doing well. Don't worry about the media too much, alright? It's just us here."

The mention of children hit harder than you expected. It wasn’t the news itself, but the person standing beside you. Stiff and aloof to the happy news that just went ignored by her. Her hands ruffling Idris's hair as if Romana and Adelyn had now just disappeared.

Romana, sensing the growing distance between Kade and the group, leaned in slightly, her voice low but firm. "Um, Kade, follow me. I need to discuss something with Mother," she said, more an order than a request.

Kade hesitated for a split second before nodding, following Romana without a word, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. The moment Kade stepped away, you finally allowed yourself to breathe, albeit briefly.

Once they were out of earshot, Romana turned to Kade with a look of quiet intensity, her posture firm, though there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.

"Why are you so tense?" Romana asked, her voice gentle but pointed, as if she already knew the answer but still needed to hear it.

Kade’s expression was unreadable, and she shrugged in response. "Why are you asking?" she retorted, her tone sharp yet dismissive, her eyes briefly meeting Romana’s.

Romana didn’t flinch. She was used to Kade’s defenses by now. "Because I care," Romana said, her voice softening just enough to carry the weight of the unspoken.

Kade’s lips curved into a small, derisive smile. "And I don’t care what you think," she replied coldly. "I’ve got my own way of handling things."

"And you are not handling it well."

"Focus on your own life, Romana, why are you so interested in mine?"

"Listen, Kade. You think-" Romana started, her voice firm as she stepped closer to her sister. "I don’t see what you're doing? Why did you reject the York house? I wanted you two to move in, so that Deniz would be happier, more comfortable. Adelyn and I would have been so happy, but you just had to-"

"It's my life, Romana," Kade cut in sharply, her voice low but with an undeniable edge. She turned toward her, her gaze hardening. "Stop telling me what to do. Focus on your wife rather than what’s better for Deniz."

Romana’s eyes narrowed, and she held Kade’s gaze with a level of calm that barely masked her growing frustration. "She’s not some toy you bought," she retorted, her words cutting through the tension between them. "Considering you never even took care of them too."

For a moment, Kade froze. Her eyes narrowed so sharply it felt as though they could burn through the air itself. If looks could kill, Romana might have been ashes. Her jaw clenched, fists tightening at her sides.

"What the fuck did you mean by that?" Kade’s voice was a hiss, barely restrained.

Romana took a slow, deliberate breath, forcing herself to remain composed. She was well aware of the media surrounding them, and as Kade's back was toward the cameras, Romana had a sliver of freedom. Her smile, however, remained in place, but it was almost strained, an expression of carefully controlled tension.

"Look, listen," Romana continued, her tone still calm but now layered with something sharper. "For once, keep your ego aside." She leaned in slightly, making sure no one but Kade would hear her next words. "You’ve never once put Deniz first. All of this? The marriage, the expectations, it's all about you. About your pride. And it's time someone told you that."

Kade's lips twisted into a sharp, mocking smile. "Keep your concern aside, alright? Yeah, let's try that. You’re just always rubbing it off, aren’t you?" She took a step back, her voice dripping with disdain. "Your life, your family, your perfect upbringing, well, I don’t give a fuck about it." She turned sharply to leave, her gaze flicking toward Romana one last time before she paused. "And for God’s sake, stay out of our personal shit."

Romana stood there, still and composed, though her jaw tightened. She could feel the weight of Kade’s words, but she didn’t let them rattle her. It was hard being the older sister, the one who always had to be the voice of reason.

And it was even harder being her wife. After the marriage, you couldn’t leave to meet any old friends unless it was approved by the management, which, unsurprisingly, was Kade herself. The more you tried to break free, the tighter the invisible chains around you seemed to become.

Your calls on the palace’s phone were monitored every word you said, analyzed, dissected. No conversations went unnoticed. The security detail on you was constantly watching, ensuring you never strayed too far from the path Kade had set. Even your movements within the palace were tracked; if you spent too long in one place, a guard would be there to “check in,” making sure you were where you were supposed to be.

And your own phone was no different. The apps were limited, the messages filtered. If you tried to reach out to anyone who wasn’t approved, you’d find that your messages never sent, or they were mysteriously deleted before you could even check. Calls from your parents or close friends like Clara , would occasionally be intercepted or 'accidentally' cut off. . When you tried to send a message to a friend or a family member, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, every notification felt like a reminder that someone was always listening.

You could feel the subtle tension in the air whenever you talked to your parents, the guilt and pressure mounting on you from both sides. Kade’s quiet, invisible presence loomed over you, controlling the way you interacted with your loved ones. When you tried to speak freely, the words became strained. You couldn’t talk openly about how trapped you felt, or about the way Kade’s grip on you was suffocating. It wasn’t just the physical isolation that was growing unbearable; it was the emotional manipulation, the constant feeling that someone was always listening, waiting for you to slip up.

Your parents tried to be supportive, but you could hear the worry in their voices. They knew something was off, even if they couldn’t quite pinpoint what. They tried to encourage you to stand up for yourself, to be strong, but you knew that their voices, their support, could never break through the walls Kade had built around you.

But you were not going to give up this easily. No, absolutely not. Just you wait, Kade. Bear your kids, my ass. Touch me , I dare you.

She could push and manipulate all she wanted, but you weren’t going to play her game. Not this time. You'd figure out a way to reclaim your life, even if it meant doing things the hard way. No matter how many smiles or sweet words she threw your way, you weren’t fooled anymore. You got to do something which you will.

AN: I need therapy cuz of Kade-

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