#and this usually makes me realize that yeah

[loafysainz]

DONT GO DADDY | LN 4

lando norris!dad x reader!mom

no warn

hope you guys enjoy it!!

Lando had two more days at home before he had to leave for the next race weekend. Two days before he’d have to pack his bags, say goodbye, and be away for who-knows-how-long.

The thing is—his kids didn’t even know that yet.

Noah and Leo, his little shadows, had been extra clingy lately. Usually, Leo was glued to their mom, a total mama’s boy, while Noah was more independent. But this past week? The two of them were stuck to Lando like glue. If he so much as stepped out of the room, one (or both) would come running, calling out for him like he was about to disappear forever.

Like right now.

Lando was just sorting through some stuff in the living room when he suddenly felt two tiny pairs of arms wrap around his legs. He glanced down, finding Noah and Leo latched onto him, looking up with teary eyes.

“What’s up, little dudes?” he teased, ruffling Noah’s curls while patting Leo’s head. “Why are you guys crying, huh?”

Noah sniffled. “Daddy… hug.”

Leo nodded aggressively, arms still wrapped tight around Lando’s leg. “Want hug, Daddy.”

Lando crouched down, opening his arms. “Ohhh, you want me to hug you? Come here then.”

And just like that, his two little monsters launched themselves into his chest, squeezing him like their lives depended on it. Lando chuckled, lifting them both up in his arms.

“What’s gotten into you two, huh? You’ve been extra cuddly this week.”

Noah pouted, gripping Lando’s hoodie. “Don’t go.”

Lando blinked. “Go where?”

Leo’s lips wobbled. “Work.”

Noah, never one to be left out, “Yeah! We miss you when you go!”

Ah. They didn’t know he was leaving in two days, but somehow, they felt it.

And just like that, Lando’s heart completely melted. He sighed, rubbing their backs as they both continued to sniffle into his hoodie.

“Daddy’s right here, baby,” he murmured, rocking them gently. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But later you go work again.” Noah mumbled, his little fingers fisting Lando’s hoodies like he was scared he’d disappear right then and there.

Lando exhaled, tilting his head back for a second before pressing a kiss to both their foreheads. “You know why Daddy goes to work, right?”

They both shook their heads, big eyes still filled with tears.

“I go so I can make money,” he explained gently. “And you know what money gets us?”

Noah thought about it for a second. “Ice cream?”

Lando chuckled. “Yes, and toys. And our house. And everything we need. If I don’t go, then we don’t get those things.”

Leo sniffled. “But I just want you.”

Lando swore his heart physically hurt. He pulled them both in even tighter. “I know, buddy. And I want to be here too. But I promise, I’ll always come back. And when I do, we’ll have fun as much as you want, okay?”

After a few more minutes of calming them down, their little bodies finally relaxed against him. The house was quiet except for their soft breathing, and Lando realized they had completely passed out on him—Leo using his arm as a pillow, and Noah curled up into his side.

That was exactly how his wife—y/n found them when she walked in.

She paused in the doorway, eyes widening at the rare moment of silence. Usually, their house was a warzone of giggles and chaos, but right now? It was peaceful. Too peaceful.

She tiptoed closer, peeking into the family room, and immediately felt her heart melt. There they were—her three favorite people, all tangled up on the couch, fast asleep.

Lando had one arm draped protectively over both boys, his head resting against the back of the couch. Noah was tucked under his chin, while Leo had somehow managed to shove himself into Lando’s side, one tiny hand gripping his hoodie even in sleep.

She smiled to herself, shaking her head fondly.

Yeah. She was definitely taking a picture of this.

[lookingforuravity]

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

♫ now playing - the only exception by paramore

bakugou x reader

word count: 1,827 words

IN WHICH each time your friends caught bakugou only being nice to you.

a/n: still 'fool for you' just changed the title (≧ω≦)

“i've never seen him so.. calm.”

“right? he's always so uptight.”

the two friends were peering over the couch as they watched bakugou and y/n sleep soundlessly. there was a serene look drawn on his face while he held y/n closely to him, her hand resting softly on his chest as their chests rose up and down simultaneously.

“how come he's so much nicer to her than any of us?” kirishima complained with a pout stitched on his lips. he'd been friends with bakugou way before (two months) him and y/n got together. where was his special treatment?

“they're dating duh. why wouldn't he be nice to her?” mina replied as gazed at the couple with a soft gaze in her eyes. their young, teenage love was truly admirable.

even if bakugou seemed to have a stick up his ass 24/7.

the couple twitched softly in their sleep. it had been a long and stressful day of endless amounts of training, and lord knew that they both needed a break. a thin blanket was all that covered their bodies, but anybody could make out the way bakugou held her waist and the way y/n laid her hand on his chest underneath the sheet.

the usually quiet library turned into a circus as it filled up with bakugou's grumbling, denki's whines, and y/n's giggling. the sight of bakugou repeatedly smacking denki on the head with rolled up paper was an entertaining sight to distract her from her note-taking.

“are you seriously this stupid?” bakugou growled as he peered over the blonde's notebook, erasing and scribbling over any mistakes he made. denki pouted while rubbing his head on the spot that bakugou smacked. “c'mon.. it's really not that easy!” denki whined.

bakugou's vermillion eyes narrowed at denki. “it's basic algebra! how did you even get this far if you can't do simple math?!” he snapped.

denki continued to pout as he grumbled under his breath, something about bakugou lacking basic respect.

“uh.. katsuki?” y/n called out hesitantly.

though he still kept the glare on his face, the way his body language softened was visible, and how his tone contrasted from denki to her was plain obvious. “what?”

she turned over her notebook towards him so he can see her work. “i think i did it wrong.. can you check it?”

bakugou grabbed her notebook and skimmed over her work. “yeah.. here, let me explain.” he leaned over closer to her, close enough to where she can smell caramel on his skin.

denki's mouth fell agape as he watched how the guy went from raising hell on him to looking like he was practically skipping in a field of flowers inside his head. “that is SO not fair! how come you're so much nicer to her than me?!”

“cause she's not an idiot! keep working!”

it was far past midnight, and it was already one thing that izuku couldn't sleep, but on an empty stomach? it made it far much worse. he tried everything in the book from counting sheep to counting his breaths, but nothing could beat his racing mind and the sound of his stomach growling.

izuku didn't want to disturb anyone, but would it really hurt if he just tip-toed to the common room? he sighed as he ran his hand through his curly green hair, quietly making his way to the kitchen to not wake anyone.

but as he walked through the common room, a taller figure appeared in front of him.

“GAH!” he yelped, hastily smacking a hand over his mouth as he realized how loud he'd screamed. “shoto!” he half-whispered. “what are you doing?!”

todoroki stood still, his expression unwavering. “i couldn't sleep.” his direction turned towards the kitchen. “i wanted to get a snack, but i think someone is in there.” he said.

that's odd. it was almost one in the morning, and the only people that izuku thought could be awake fell asleep ages ago. he asked todoroki who it was but he only shrugged, showing he only heard the person but never checked who it was.

he never thought he'd be met with the sight of bakugou resting his chin on y/n's shoulder as she made them snacks.

“at 12:47 in the morning? that's way past bakugou's bedtime…” todoroki muttered under his breath.

bakugou's tone was softer, softer than anyone had ever heard besides y/n herself. “you better not burn it.” he huffed.

y/n giggled, slightly turning her head to face his side profile. “i'm not going to burn our snacks,” she assured. “i'm an expert.”

“expert my ass.”

“hey!”

izuku and todoroki looked like a deer in headlights looking at the scene before them. they wanted to walk away, believe them, they really did. but the sight of bakugou being so domestic was such a rare and amusing sight to see.

“do we… leave?” izuku suggested.

“i don't know…” todoroki answered. “this is really weird.”

bakugou’s head shot up from her shoulder and turned to look at the two voices faster than the speed of light. his ruby eyes were narrowed as he glared them down as his lips curled. “the hell are you guys doing?”

izuku's hands flapped around in a panic. “w-we were just about to leave! i swear-”

“you're very affectionate, bakugou” todoroki said, as blunt as ever.

“shut up!” he yelled, his face turning as a red as a tomato and his hair puffed up. y/n giggled once again at the dramatic scene that laid in front of her. “do you guys want snacks too?” she offered.

“why are you giving our food to extras?” “suki!”

brutal wasn't even the word to describe today's training session. everyone was curled up on the ground, hands over their stomach as it even hurt to breathe. the sounds that filled the room were heavy breathing and complaints. and y/n— was nowhere to be found.

mina, jirou, and ochaco all wandered the hallways, a worried look etched on their face as they searched for their friend. “i'm really worried about her y'know.” mina was the first one to break the silence.

both girls nodded in agreement.

“so am i,” ochaco said. “she just disappeared right after training ended.”

the trio kept wandering the halls, looking in every corner and every turn where y/n could be hiding.

suddenly, through the glass window, they see their little y/c haired friend sitting on the bench, with her fingers intertwined on her lap and her head hung low.

“there she is!” jirou yelled, quickly running to the nearest door to go outside and get y/n while the other two girls trailed closely behind her.

but something made them stop dead in their tracks. the closer they got to the window, the more they were able to see someone elses silhouette sat next to her.

“is that bakugou?”

bakugou's arm was wrapped securely around y/n's shoulders, intently listening to her rambling about whatever she needed to get off her chest.

“i did really bad today.” she mumbled, her voice filled with sadness and frustration.

“and that’s okay.” bakugou comforted her. “one bad doesn't mean you suck. everyone has bad days.” he reassured her, rubbing light circles on her shoulders.

y/n shrugged, playing and picking at her fingers as they rested on her lap. “i just think i’m weak, y’know?” she mumbled once again.

“you're not- hey. look at me.” bakugou squished her cheeks and turned her head to face his. “stop. you think i'd be talking to you like this if you're so weak? hm?”

“no?” she muffled due to how much bakugou was squishing her face.

“exactly. you're strong, so stop putting yourself down because of one off day and keep training.”

“you're hurting my cheeks.”

bakugou let go of her face, lightly patting her cheeks as an apology. “my point is, one bad day doesn't mean you're weak. think about every other time you've kicked ass.”

y/n laughed softly, her face changing from what looked like a kicked puppy to her usual grin. “thank you suki.” she said.

“this is the cutest thing I've ever seen.” mina whispered while clenching her shirt where her heart is tightly.

“who knew the pomeranian could be such a romantic?” jirou teased as ochaco and mina giggled along side of her.

bakugou lightly ruffled the top of y/n's hair, lightly blushing from the way she looked at him with such a lovestruck glance. “you're strong. don't start with that ‘i'm weak’ shit cause i won't hear it.”

“you're so sweet when you want to be.”

“now you're pushing it.”

“why are you only nice to me?” the question caught katsuki off guard.

the couple had been in y/n's dorm room simply sitting in silence, with their legs entangled together and the light noise of the TV playing in the background.

he turned his head slightly to face her, their eyes meeting instantly as she was already looking at him so softly. “why wouldn't i be?” katsuki questioned as his fingers lightly played with her hair.

y/n shrugged, not having a response to his question. it just seemed out-of-character for him. he was the type of person to not let anyone change him, good or bad.

but the crude boy would come to be a puddle of sap when it came to her. even if it wasn't obvious verbally, the ways his eyes softened when they laid upon her was enough said.

“i asked you a question first.” she retorted.

katsuki exhaled sharply, his gaze turning from her to the ceiling as his heart rate sped up a bit. “you're just.. different.”

y/n's eyebrows raised slightly as a smirk stitched itself onto her face. she scooted closer to katsuki's side, leaning her head on his bicep as she stared lovingly at his side profile. “i'm.. different? there's more to that, isn't there?”

“of course there is. you just don't get to know that stuff right now.”

y/n knew that katsuki wasn't one to talk about his feelings. she wasn't looking to change that. but the simple thought of him just looking at her differently from the rest, like shes the only person in every room, made her heart flutter.

“don't think i'm getting soft though.” katsuki grumbled, an arm slipping around her waist as he pulled her impossibly closer.

“you're just… the only exception.”

©LOOKINGFORURAVITY 2024 | please do not copy, translate, or repost my work onto other

TAGLIST: @kaerotica @sweetlike-sugarplum @misfortvne @iridescencefae @awesomesauce-oo @kalulakunundrum

[cherryxbooo]

Yeah, I’m the lucky one

Summary: Hiding it when you're sick from your boyfriend is one thing, but hiding it from your clingy boyfriend is a whole other challenge.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff

The paddock is alive with energy, buzzing with anticipation, the sound of engines roaring in the distance, and the hum of the crowd outside.

Lando is in his element, calm yet radiating an excitement that’s palpable.

The focus in his eyes is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and it’s clear that today matters more to him than most.

The weight of the race, the pressure of the expectations, and the fire in his heart are all simmering beneath the surface.

It's a mix of raw determination and adrenaline, and it brings out the best in him.

But me? Well, I feel the complete opposite.

I woke up feeling off, my head pounding and my body aching with a fever I couldn't shake.

I knew I should stay in bed, but I couldn’t. Not today.

Not with everything he’s worked for. I couldn’t let something as trivial as being sick get in the way of him having the best race of his career.

He’s been talking about this day for weeks, getting ready for it with an intensity that I’ve only seen in the world of motorsport.

But as I made my way through the paddock, trying my best to act normal, I felt the weight of my own discomfort pulling me down.

I’ve been silently counting the minutes until I can just crawl into a quiet corner and hide.

But the last thing I want is for him to see me like this. He’d immediately worry, go into panic mode, and lose focus.

Lando, with his big heart, would put everything aside just to take care of me, and I don’t want to do that to him.

Not today. Today is about him.

As I stand next to his family, making small talk with his friends, I feel dizzy.

The lights are a little too bright, and the sounds a little too loud.

I try to steady myself, offering a weak smile whenever someone glances my way, but the effort feels exhausting.

Lando’s mum catches my eye, and for a brief moment, I see a flicker of concern in her expression.

But she doesn’t say anything, just gives me a warm, reassuring smile. I’m grateful, but I can tell she knows something’s off.

Then, out of nowhere, I feel a familiar hand on my back. A small shiver runs down my spine as I turn to face Lando, and I instantly feel a warmth spread through me, despite the fever still creeping in.

“Hey baby, you okay?” His voice is soft, but there’s a sharpness in his eyes, like he’s always aware of everything around him, especially me.

I don’t want to worry him. I can’t.

So I give him a smile that’s more practiced than I’d like to admit,

“Yeah, just a little tired. Big day, huh?”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

He studies me for a second, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual, his hand gently squeezing my back.

The touch is warm, comforting. “You sure? You don’t look so great.”

“I’m fine,” I assure him, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You focus on the race. I’m just here to cheer you on.”

Lando hesitates, his lips pressed into a thin line as if trying to gauge if I’m really okay.

But then he nods slowly, though his concern doesn’t quite vanish.

“Alright… but if you need anything, you let me know, okay?”

His voice is almost a whisper, like he’s trying not to give away just how much he cares.

“I will,” I promise, trying to keep my tone light and convincing.

But as he walks away to prepare for the race, a sense of loneliness settles over me.

The noise around me feels overwhelming, and the crowd only amplifies the ache in my head.

I find a quiet corner, away from the chaos, hoping to just breathe for a moment.

I didn't realize that I had been hiding away for a while already.

But before I know it, Lando’s voice cuts through the distance.

“You’ve been hiding from me.”

I turn to see him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His presence alone seems to calm the storm inside me.

“I wasn’t hiding,” I protest weakly, though my voice cracks just slightly.

“Just… taking a break.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.

“Taking a break from what? From me?”

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch my cheek, his fingers warm against my skin.

I close my eyes for a second, leaning into the touch, even though I feel like I might collapse at any moment.

“From the chaos of the paddock,” I admitted softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

His gaze softens, the teasing in his eyes fading. He steps in closer, his body brushing against mine as he gently cups my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“Hey…” His voice is tender now, a deep, comforting lull.

“Are you really feeling okay love?"

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat suddenly unbearable.

“Yes, don't worry Lan. I'm fine.”

I whisper, my voice slightly breaking as I fight the urge to lean on him completely.

I stare up at him, feeling a mix of love and pain.

I don’t want to be the one who holds him back, but I can’t deny how much I crave the support and warmth he gives me without even thinking.

Lando lowers his hands, but not without giving me one last comforting touch, his fingers brushing my wrist.

“You need to rest,” he says firmly, but there’s a hint of playfulness behind his words now.

“I’m not going to let you make it through today without me taking care of you at least once.”

I laugh softly, despite the dizziness still swirling in my head.

“I’m fine, Lando. You go be amazing out there.”

He looks at me, his eyes soft but filled with determination. “I will be. But only because you’re here.”

Before I can say anything else, he leans in, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll make sure to get at least P3 for you.”

And with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of engineers and teammates.

But the moment he’s out of sight, I feel my energy drain completely.

Regardless of how I felt I still made my way to the rest so I could support Lando and be there for him.

Everywhere I look, there’s movement, excitement, and a sense of urgency.

Lando’s already suited up and surrounded by his team, getting ready to focus on the race that could mean everything for his career.

I’m supposed to be the one cheering him on, being his support, his calm, but instead, all I can do is try to survive the overwhelming wave of heat coursing through me.

Every few seconds, my head spins, my chest feels like it's on fire, and the nausea rolls in like a tide.

It’s getting harder to keep it together, but I’m trying. I can’t let anything distract him.

I can't make this his problem today, not when he’s been working so hard for this moment.

I take a seat next to Max and Pietra, hoping the three of us can keep the mood light and give Lando a little peace before he heads into the race.

I force myself to laugh at Max's joke about the weather, but it comes out more like a wheeze.

My throat feels like it’s coated in something dry and scratchy, and each breath feels like I’m not getting enough air.

Max doesn’t notice, but Pietra does.

She’s always been that way, observant, kind, and so very perceptive.

I’ve always admired how in tune she is with people.

She shifts in her seat beside me, her eyes narrowing as she studies my face.

“You okay, Y/n?” she asks gently, her voice laced with concern.

“You look a little pale.”

I immediately try to put on a smile, but it feels like the most exhausting thing I’ve done all day.

“I’m fine, really,” I say, hoping I can convince her.

“Just a little tired. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

Pietra doesn’t buy it, not even for a second.

She leans in closer, her gaze steady as she inspects my face, my trembling hands.

“You sure?” she presses, her brow furrowing.

“You don’t look fine. Maybe you should lay down for a bit?”

The room suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me.

The dizziness that had been simmering beneath the surface is starting to take hold, and it’s all I can do to keep my eyes focused on her.

I swallow hard, trying to push the wave of nausea down, but it’s impossible to ignore now.

I nod weakly, doing my best to stay composed.

“I’m okay, Pietra. Just... a little dizzy. I think I’ll sit down for a moment.”

Max, still glued to his phone, glances up briefly, probably sensing the shift in the air.

His eyes scan me quickly before he leans closer to Pietra, muttering something under his breath, probably about how pale I look.

I’m about to wave it off, to reassure them both that it’s nothing, when Pietra’s soft hand touches my shoulder.

It’s warm and grounding, her touch gentle but insistent.

“No, you’re not okay, Y/n,” she says firmly.

“You’re not fooling me. You need to go back to the hotel and rest. Max and I will handle everything here. Don’t worry about Lando. He’ll understand. He doesn’t need to know right now, and you’re not helping him by pretending you’re fine.”

My heart clenches at her words. I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to make him worry.

He’s about to race, about to compete for something so important to him.

The last thing I want is to make this about me. But Pietra’s expression leaves no room for argument.

Her hand squeezes my shoulder, and I feel a wave of guilt hit me hard.

“I... I can’t just leave,” I whisper, my voice shaky.

“I don’t want him to—”

“Y/n,” Pietra interrupts, her voice soft but full of authority.

“Lando will be fine. He’ll be more upset if you stay here, pretending to be okay when you’re not. Let us take care of everything. He doesn’t need the distraction. He needs you to get better, not to keep pretending.”

I shake my head, still fighting it. “But he’s going to think I don’t care.”

“He knows you care. You don’t have to prove it by running yourself into the ground,” she says, her tone firm yet reassuring.

“You need to listen to your body. Max and I can make sure everything’s fine here.”

I hesitate for a moment, my vision swimming in and out of focus, and then I feel it, the dizziness getting worse.

My stomach turns violently, and I barely suppress a gasp. Before I can protest, Pietra’s up and at my side, helping me stand.

“Max,” she calls out to him, her voice tinged with urgency.

Max looks up from his phone, his attention now fully on us. He doesn’t need to ask questions.

Without a word, he stands, motions to security, and gestures for them to clear a path.

“We’re getting you back to the hotel,” Max says, his voice gentle but decisive.

“No arguments.”

I open my mouth to protest, to tell them I’m fine, but the dizziness overtakes me again.

I feel my legs wobble, my knees threatening to give way beneath me. The nausea is so strong now that I can’t hold it back any longer.

My head feels like it’s filled with cotton, and my heart races as I fight to keep everything together.

“Okay,” I whisper, too weak to resist any longer. “Okay, let’s go.”

Max’s arm wraps around my shoulder, steadying me as Pietra follows closely behind.

I glance over my shoulder at the paddock, seeing the hustle and bustle of the team preparing for the race.

And even though I want nothing more than to stay and support Lando, I know Pietra’s right, he doesn’t need to see me like this.

As we make our way out of the paddock, past the busy crew and excited fans, the world seems to blur again.

All I can think about is Lando, how much he’s worked for this, and how much I wish I could be there cheering him on.

But right now, all I can do is focus on getting back to the hotel and trying to heal.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Pietra murmurs, sensing my anxiety.

“Lando will understand. We’ll make sure he stays focused.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back, squeezing her hand.

Max looks over at me, offering a reassuring smile.

“No problem, Y/n. We’ve got you.”

And as they guide me toward the exit, the sound of the engines roaring to life in the distance feels far away, almost like a distant memory.

All I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that, by the time Lando crosses the finish line, I’ll be okay.

Meanwhile,

The race was intense, there was no other way to describe it.

Lando’s heart was pounding, his breath coming in quick bursts as he fought to stay focused on the track ahead.

Each corner, each straightaway felt like it mattered more than the last.

The roar of the engine under him, the vibration in his hands as he gripped the wheel,it was like the world was screaming at him to push harder, to get everything he had into every lap.

And he did.

Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, the world outside of his car becoming a blur of colors and sounds.

But amidst the chaos, there was something else tugging at his mind, something he couldn’t quite shake.

Just before the race started, he had caught sight of Y/n sitting among their friends, looking beautiful as always, but something was... off.

Maybe it was the way she had looked at him, her tired eyes betraying a sense of exhaustion that didn’t quite match the energy of the day.

Or how quiet she seemed, like a flicker of something hidden behind her usual smile. He couldn’t pinpoint it, but something wasn’t right.

But there was no time for that.

He pushed those thoughts away, focusing back on the race, his hands steady on the wheel as he navigated the track with everything he had.

He couldn’t afford to think about anything but the next corner, the next lap, the next move.

And when he crossed the finish line, the elation of victory should’ve been enough to make everything feel perfect.

After all, he had gotten P2.

The cheers, the confetti, the roar of the crowd, it was everything he’d been working for, everything he’d dreamed of.

But in the midst of it all, he couldn’t shake the nagging thought of Y/n.

His gaze searched the area, instinctively looking for her.

He was surrounded by teammates, sponsors, friends, but all he wanted in that moment was to see her smile, to know she was okay.

He scanned the area again, but she wasn’t there.

Not where he had left her. His stomach tightened, his mind racing. Something wasn’t right.

Lando quickly moved through the crowd, dodging everyone on his way, his eyes darting between faces, searching for any sign of her.

He was so focused on finding her, he almost didn’t see Max and Pietra standing off to the side.

When he finally noticed them, his heart skipped a beat. You weren't there.

Lando’s pace quickened as he approached them, his voice betraying the worry he couldn’t hide.

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, his words coming out sharper than he intended.

Pietra exchanged a glance with Max before she sighed, the look on her face telling Lando everything he needed to know.

"She wasn’t feeling well," she said softly, her eyes clouded with concern.

"We had to send her back to the hotel."

Lando’s chest tightened, a heavy weight settling over him.

His pulse quickened, the sudden rush of guilt and worry clouding his thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words slipped out before he could stop them, his voice rising slightly, not in anger, but in genuine confusion.

Max stepped forward, his expression calm but serious.

"Mate she didn’t want to distract you. She said it was important not to take your focus away from the race."

Lando’s mind was spinning now, the elation of his victory evaporating as quickly as it had come.

Guilt was flooding him, he couldn’t believe Y/n had been struggling, that she’d hidden it from him.

She’d always been there for him, supportive, understanding, even when he was caught up in his own world.

And now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let her down.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the weight of the situation was suffocating.

He didn’t know what to say.

All he could think about was how she had been sitting there, probably feeling miserable, and he hadn’t even noticed.

The race, his career, all of it felt so insignificant compared to the thought of Y/n being alone and sick.

“Why didn’t she just tell me? I would’ve understood. I could’ve—”

Pietra stepped forward, her hand gently resting on his arm, grounding him in the moment.

“Lando, she didn’t want you to worry. She knew how much today meant to you. She didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Max nodded in agreement.

“She’s always there for you. But she’s not the type to let herself be a distraction, not when you’re in the zone like that. You know how she is, she cares about you more than anything, but she didn’t want to pull you away from your focus.”

Lando let out a long breath, feeling like the weight of the world was pressing down on his chest.

“I should’ve noticed,” he muttered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"I should’ve been paying more attention."

"You’re not a mind reader, Lando," Pietra said, her voice calm but firm.

Lando realized that she was right.

He quickly greeted the rest of his family and did some other duties before changing and heading back to the hotel.

Lando arrived at the hotel room, his body still buzzing from the race, but his mind consumed by a different kind of worry.

As soon as he entered, the first thing he did was quietly close the door behind him.

The soft hum of the air conditioning and the dim light from the lamps were the only sounds in the room.

His eyes immediately fell on your figure, still asleep, your peaceful face glowing softly under the sheets.

The sight of you, so vulnerable yet so beautiful, made his heart ache with both affection and guilt.

He quietly pulled a chair from the small desk and sat down beside the bed, never taking his eyes off you.

He wanted to be close to his girl, but he didn’t want to wake you.

He knew you needed rest, but the worry of the day, the worry about you, hadn’t let up.

He reached out, brushing a lock of hair from your face.

His fingers lingered there for a second before he let out a soft breath, resting his chin in his hand, his elbow on his knee.

He could almost hear the questions running through his mind, wondering why you hadn’t told him what you had been feeling.

He could feel the weight of your absence, the quiet ache in his chest from not knowing exactly what had been going on with you.

The minutes seemed to stretch on, each tick of the clock amplifying his thoughts.

He hated this uncertainty, this feeling that something had been left unsaid.

Then, after what felt like forever, a soft groan escaped from your lips, and Lando’s attention snapped to her immediately.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking against the dim light in the room.

Your gaze slowly focused on him, confusion settling on her face as she took in her surroundings.

Lando watched her with a mix of relief and concern, his heart lightening at the sight of you waking up but still heavy with the questions that lingered in his mind.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Lando said softly, his voice full of warmth and affection.

My vision cleared, and I smiled sleepily at him.

Lando’s heart squeezed.

"You’re awake. I’ve been here waiting for you to wake up for, like, ages now." He chuckled softly, though his eyes were still filled with concern.

"But seriously… why didn’t you tell me?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of everything pressing on me.

My hand reached for his, finding his fingers weakly, and I squeezed them, my fingers trembling a bit.

"I didn’t want to be a burden," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I didn’t want to ruin your day or take away from the race. It was important to you. I just… I didn’t want to distract you."

Lando smiled at me softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

"You’re never a burden, Y/n." He looked at me with such sincerity, it made my heart ache in the best way.

"You are always my priority, okay? Not the race, not the fans, not the win. You. Always."

I felt my heart flutter at his words, my eyes softening as I looked back at him.

The tears I’d been holding back threatened to spill, and I could feel them welling up.

Being sick just makes people extra emotional, give it a break yeah?

"I’m sorry," I murmured, my voice breaking slightly.

Lando shook his head, his heart aching.

He leaned closer, cupping my cheek gently, his thumb brushing over my skin.

"You don’t have to apologize," he whispered.

"You never have to hide anything from me, especially not when it comes to you."

I felt the weight of his words, the tenderness in his touch, and I wanted so badly to just melt into him.

I was so grateful for him, for the way he always made me feel safe, loved, and heard.

Lando sat beside me on the bed, leaning back just enough to grab the water and medicine he’d set out earlier.

"You need to drink this," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm.

"Get some rest, and I’ll be right here with you. Just take it easy."

I hesitated for a moment, but then reached for the glass of water he held out to me.

My fingers were still shaking slightly, but I took it from him gratefully.

There was a small, tired smile on my lips as I drank, and Lando’s eyes never left me.

He was watching me closely, making sure I was okay. It felt nice to be looked after this way.

After I finished the water, Lando sat back down next to me again, his hand finding mine once more.

"You don’t ever have to hide something like that from me, okay?" he said, his voice soft but serious.

"If something’s wrong, you have to tell me. Promise me you’ll tell me next time."

I looked up at him, my eyes full of emotion, and I nodded slowly.

The tears I’d been holding back finally spilled over, and I felt a few of them slide down my cheeks.

Before I could say anything, Lando quickly wiped them away with his thumb, his touch light, tender.

"I’m sorry," I whispered again, my voice barely audible.

He slightly laughed, "You're such a crybaby when you're sick babe."

Lando leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"You don’t have to apologize," he said, his voice full of love and affection.

"I love you, baby. I love you, and that’s all that matters." His voice was quiet but strong, filled with reassurance.

I pulled him closer, resting my head against his chest, letting out a small, exaggerated sigh.

"Mmm, this is the best pillow ever," I mumbled, half-laughing, half-groaning in exhaustion.

Lando wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in tighter.

His chin rested on top of my head, and he chuckled softly.

"You come first," he said with a mock-serious tone, trying to sound all deep and dramatic.

"Always."

I snuggled in a little closer, feeling his warmth.

"Oh, I know now," I said, glancing up at him with a grin.

"You’re basically my personal butler, aren’t you? Always there when I need you."

He let out a dramatic gasp. "But of course! My whole existence is to serve you, my queen."

I rolled my eyes, fighting back a laugh.

"Thank you for being here," I said, the words half-sweet, half-teasing.

Lando smirked, pressing a kiss to my hair.

"Please don't cry again... and well yeah, where else would I be? I’m not going anywhere."

Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added,

"Besides, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger. You know that, right?"

I couldn’t help but laugh lightly, feeling him grin against the top of my head.

"Oh, I know," I said, playfully tapping his chest.

"You're my big soft marshmallow. I practically own you."

Lando chuckled, his arms tightening around me. "You absolutely do. And you’re not even sorry about it."

I smirked, rolling my eyes. "Well, I am your number one priority, aren’t I?"

His eyes sparkled with affection, and he pulled me a little closer.

"You’re my number one everything, Y/n. No competition."

I snorted, unable to help the grin that spread across my face.

"Good. Glad we’re clear on that."

As we sat there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside felt miles away.

All that mattered was us, his heartbeat, my tired sighs, and the way we fit together like we’d always been meant to.

For a moment, everything else faded, and all I could think was: Yeah, I’m the lucky one.

The end

[cceana]

Arcane Highschool!AU 2

characters - vi, caitlyn, jinx, sevika, ekko, jayce and viktor content - 6.1k words, part 1 here, established relationships except for vi's, Star athlete!vi x band!reader, Childhoodbestfriend!caitlyn, New kid!jinx x Class president!reader, Troublemaker!sevika x Tutor!reader, Artist!ekko x Muse!reader, Bestfriend!jayce, and Enemies to lovers!viktor

A/N - lmaoo.. sorry yall for not posting for like a really long time ;-; studied my azz off last week which was def worth it cuz i did so feaking well on that exam hehe. this was lowk rushed bcuz i rlly wanted to post. hope yall enjoy queens (> 3 <)

— Star Athlete!vi and Band!reader

The weeks following that unexpected late-night moment between you two felt different—charged with something new, something unspoken but lingering in the air. It wasn’t just the occasional brush of hands when walking side by side, or the way she’d glance at you across the cafeteria before looking away just a little too fast. It was the warmth in her voice when she teased you, the way she stuck around after practice just to sit beside you while you tuned your instrument.

She never said why she stayed. You never asked.

But you both knew.

It started with one call—past midnight, your phone buzzing against your nightstand.

“I can’t sleep,” she said when you answered, her voice rough with exhaustion.

You could hear the faint sound of cars passing outside, the rustle of her shifting under the covers.

“You’re calling me because you can’t sleep?” you murmured, trying to ignore the way your heart pounded at the thought of her thinking about you this late.

“Yeah,” she admitted. A pause. “Your voice is kinda nice.”

Heat rushed to your face. “Oh.”

“Don’t get a big head about it.”

You smiled, rolling onto your side.

From that night on, the calls became routine. Sometimes she ranted about her coach pushing her too hard. Sometimes you talked about your music, your fingers unconsciously tracing the melodies you’d played that day. Other times, you simply listened to each other breathe, neither willing to hang up first.

one day, she told you about a celebration party her teammates where hosting

She invited you.

“It won’t be the worst thing ever,” she had said, arms crossed as she leaned against your locker. “Just show up for a little bit.”

You’d raised an eyebrow. “Since when did you want me at parties?”

Her lips had twitched, almost like she was fighting back a smirk. “Since I realized you never leave that damn band room. It’s tragic, really.”

So here you were, awkwardly lingering near the kitchen, nursing a half-empty cup of soda while bodies moved and music pulsed around you.

And she? She was in the center of it all—laughing, drinking, surrounded by teammates who treated her like some kind of legend. She belonged here, in the chaos and the noise.

You? Not so much.

You should have left an hour ago, but something held you in place. Maybe it was the way she kept glancing at you between conversations, like she was making sure you were still there. Or maybe it was the warmth in her eyes whenever your gazes met.

Either way, you weren’t leaving just yet.

You had just decided to step outside for some air when you felt a strong hand wrap around your wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

You turned, blinking up at her. She was closer than expected, her usual cocky smirk in place—but there was something else in her expression, something tense.

“Just getting some air,” you replied. “It’s suffocating in here.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Come on.”

Before you could respond, she was leading you out the back door, weaving through the crowd with ease. The cool night air hit you instantly, a sharp contrast to the heat of the party.

You leaned against the railing of the back porch, inhaling deeply. “Finally.”

She chuckled beside you, stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket. “Didn’t think you’d actually come tonight.”

You shot her a look. “You asked me to.”

She was quiet for a moment, staring out into the night. Then, in a voice softer than you’d ever heard from her, she said, “Yeah. I did.”

Something about the way she said it sent your heartbeat into a sprint.

You shifted, watching her carefully. “Why?”

She exhaled slowly, running a hand through her hair. “Because I wanted you here.”

Your breath caught.

She turned to face you fully now, her expression serious—no teasing smirk, no sarcastic remark to deflect. Just raw honesty.

“I know I’m not the easiest person to be around,” she started, voice steady but laced with something vulnerable. “I’m stubborn, I’m hot-headed, and I probably piss you off at least twice a day.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh. “At least.”

Her lips quirked up slightly before she continued. “But you… you’re different. You challenge me. You don’t put up with my crap, and somehow, you still—” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart pounded so hard you were sure she could hear it.

“I keep catching myself looking for you in a crowd,” she admitted, shifting her weight like she was forcing herself to stay still. “I wait outside your rehearsals, even when I could’ve left. I call you at night because your voice is the only thing that makes me feel like the world isn’t spinning too fast.”

She took a shaky breath.

“I like you.”

The words hung between you, thick with weight, with meaning.

“I don’t just like you, actually,” she corrected, her voice barely above a whisper now. “I—I think I’m falling for you.”

You stared at her, stunned, unable to form words.

Her fingers flexed at her sides, like she was bracing for rejection. “If that’s weird, or if you don’t feel the same, just—”

You stepped forward before she could finish, reaching for her hand.

She froze as your fingers slid between hers, as you squeezed lightly.

“You idiot,” you murmured, your chest aching with something overwhelming. “I’ve been falling for you this whole time.”

Her eyes widened slightly, like she hadn’t fully considered that possibility.

Then, after a beat, she huffed out a laugh. “God, we’re dumb.”

You grinned. “Yeah. A little bit.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, she looked nervous. “Can I—?”

You didn’t let her finish. Instead, you pulled her down into a kiss.

It wasn’t perfect—she was clumsy, caught off guard, but warm and sure the moment she realized what was happening. One of her hands came up to cup your face, rough and calloused but impossibly gentle.

When you finally pulled away, she was breathless, eyes flickering between yours.

“So,” she murmured, voice lower now. “Does this mean I can start calling you my girlfriend?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you like it.”

You sighed dramatically, pretending to think. “Unfortunately.”

She grinned, lacing your fingers together. “Good.”

And as she pulled you back inside—back into the noise and the chaos of the party—it didn’t feel overwhelming anymore.

Not when she was right beside you.

Not when she was yours.

— Childhood Bestfriend!caitlyn

The days that followed felt like something out of a dream. The kind of dream you never wanted to wake up from.

She had been true to her word—she didn’t want to let you go again. Every morning, you’d wake up to a good morning text, and by the afternoon, she’d have already made plans for the two of you, whether it was a quiet café visit, a stroll through the city, or simply lounging in her estate’s massive library, reminiscing about the past between pages of old books.

She had slipped back into your life as if she had never left it.

And yet, there was something new about this—something deeper, sweeter

Like the way she’d always find an excuse to touch you, whether it was resting her head on your shoulder when she was tired, bumping her knee against yours under the table, or absentmindedly playing with your fingers when you sat next to each other.

Or the way she would wait for you. Even when she was drowning in responsibilities, she would insist on having lunch together, texting you just to tell you something random about her day.

Or the way she’d steal your snacks.

Without fail, if you had food, she would somehow find a way to take at least a bite. “Sharing is caring,” she’d say, plucking a fry from your plate before you could react. And if you tried to call her out on it? She’d just smirk, pop whatever she took into her mouth, and say, “You love me, so it doesn’t count as stealing.”

(And you couldn’t even argue. Because she was right.)

Then there were the nights.

Those were your favorite.

She was always busiest during the day, but at night? That was when she really let herself be soft with you.

Like when you’d both curl up on the couch, watching movies that neither of you paid attention to because she was too busy tracing lazy patterns against your arm, or playing with your fingers, or resting her head in your lap with the most peaceful look on her face.

Or the nights when she’d show up at your door unannounced, eyes heavy with exhaustion but still full of warmth as she mumbled, “Just needed to see you.”

You’d let her in without question, and she’d collapse onto your bed with a tired sigh, reaching for you without hesitation. “Come here,” she’d murmur, voice softer than usual, more vulnerable. And when you settled next to her, she’d just hold you, burying her face against your neck, breathing you in like you were the only thing keeping her steady.

Or—your personal favorite—the way she looked at you.

Soft. Fond. Like you were the most precious thing she had ever laid eyes on.

One evening, as you sat curled up on the couch in her study, she nudged you with her foot. “Hey.”

You looked up from your book. “Hmm?”

She grinned. “Let’s make cupcakes.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I want cupcakes,” she repeated matter-of-factly, already standing up and stretching. “And I want to make them with you.”

You laughed, setting your book aside. “Since when do you bake?”

“I don’t,” she admitted, offering a hand to pull you up. “But I’m a fast learner. Come on.”

You sighed but let her drag you to the kitchen. What followed was absolute chaos.

Flour on the counter, sugar accidentally spilled on the floor, a mess of ingredients neither of you fully measured properly. She kept getting distracted, flicking flour at you, grinning mischievously every time you yelped in protest.

At some point, she wrapped her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder as you mixed the batter. “I think we make a good team.”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s because I’m doing all the work.”

She hummed, tightening her hold on you slightly. “And you do it so well.”

Your cheeks burned. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it.”

You sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

She laughed, pressing a quick kiss to your temple before pulling away. “Okay, okay, let’s get these in the oven before I distract you too much.”

Too late, you thought, but you didn’t say it aloud.

Instead, you watched as she carefully placed the tray in the oven, a proud gleam in her eyes despite the fact that neither of you had any idea if the cookies would even taste good.

It didn’t really matter.

Because moments like this—messy, chaotic, ridiculous moments with her—were worth more than any perfect, scripted day.

And when the cupcakes came out horribly burnt, she just laughed, tossed one to you, and said, “Guess we’ll have to try again tomorrow.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

— New kid!jinx and Class president!reader

Loving her was like standing in the eye of a storm—unpredictable, consuming, and just a little dangerous.

But you never wanted to be anywhere else.

She was everything you weren’t. But in the same way that she crashed into your life like a hurricane, she had also settled into it, leaving pieces of herself in all the places she had touched.

And now, she was everywhere.

You didn’t even know when it happened, but somewhere between her dragging you into trouble and worming her way into your perfectly structured life, she had become a permanent fixture.

No, more than that.

She had become yours.

Your mornings were different now.

Instead of waking up to your alarm and immediately drowning in responsibilities, you woke up to her texts.

chaos incarnate: WAKE UP chaos incarnate: pres, you better not be ignoring me chaos incarnate: hello?? chaos incarnate: fine. i’m calling you.

And then, not even a second later, your phone would start ringing.

You groaned, answering it without opening your eyes. “You’re the worst.”

“Good morning to you too, babe.”

You sighed, rolling over. “It’s four a.m.”

“Yeah, well, I missed you.”

Your heart stuttered, heat rising to your cheeks.

You hated how easily she did that.

“…We saw each other yesterday.”

“And? That was a whole eight hours ago.”

You groaned again, but this time, you couldn’t fight the smile spreading across your lips.

The entire school knew about you two.

Not because you told anyone, but because she made it impossible not to know.

She’d sling an arm over your shoulder in the halls, leaning in obnoxiously close just to see you flustered.

She’d steal your lunch, even if she had her own, just to make you roll your eyes and huff at her—because, according to her, you looked cute when you were annoyed.

She’d sit in on student council meetings—uninvited—kicking her feet up on the table like she belonged there, just to watch you glare at her.

And if anyone so much as looked at you for too long?

She’d pull you closer, smirking as she draped herself over you and drawled, “Mine.”

You pretended to be exasperated by it all.

You weren’t.

One second, she was smirking at you from across the room, her gaze sharp, teasing, full of something wild you could never quite pin down. The next, she was leaning against your desk, spinning a pen between her fingers as she sighed dramatically about how boring the student council meetings were, just to get a reaction out of you.

And sometimes—when no one else was around—she’d be quiet. Soft. Like a storm that had momentarily calmed, if only for you.

It was confusing. It was frustrating.

But it was also thrilling.

You never knew what she’d do next, but somehow, you always ended up right there with her.

“We’re skipping.”

You blinked up at her from your pile of papers. “What?”

She grinned, already grabbing your wrist, tugging you out of your chair. “I said, we’re skipping. Come on.”

You pulled back instinctively. “I can’t. I have to finish—”

“Boring,” she cut in, rolling her eyes. “You work too much. If you spend one more hour staring at those papers, you’ll turn into one.”

You crossed your arms. “And you get into trouble too much.”

She smirked. “Yeah? And yet, here you are, still standing next to me.”

You sighed, but the fight was already slipping out of you. With her, it always did.

She took advantage of your hesitation, intertwining her fingers with yours, and your heart definitely didn’t just stutter in your chest.

“Come on,” she murmured, giving your hand a squeeze. “Just for a little while?”

And just like that, you were done for.

The two of you ended up on the rooftop, the one place where no one ever checked.

She sat on the ledge, legs swinging slightly, looking up at the sky like she had never seen it before.

For a moment, she was quiet. Contemplative.

Then, without looking at you, she spoke.

“You know, you’re the only person who’s ever stuck around.”

The words were soft, but something about them hit harder than anything she had ever said before.

You swallowed, watching her carefully. “You don’t make it easy.”

She laughed, a little breathless. “No. I don’t.”

Silence settled between you, comfortable in a way you never expected.

Then, before you could think too much about it, you reached out, gently brushing your fingers against hers where they rested on the ledge.

She went completely still.

You hesitated, pulling back slightly, but she caught your hand before you could.

Her grip was tight—like she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

“You drive me crazy,” she muttered, shaking her head. “You’re stubborn, and you worry too much, and you never break the rules.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?”

She huffed, exasperated, before turning to face you fully.

And then—before you could react—she leaned in, pressing a soft, fleeting kiss to your cheek.

Your brain short-circuited.

She pulled back, smirking at your stunned expression, but there was something warm in her eyes, something real.

“You’re mine now,” she declared, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You opened your mouth—probably to protest, maybe to demand an explanation—but she just squeezed your hand again, tilting her head at you.

“…Unless you don’t want to be.”

You swallowed, heartbeat hammering in your chest.

And then, slowly, you laced your fingers through hers properly, squeezing back.

“…I think I do.”

Her smirk softened into something almost gentle.

“Good,” she murmured.

— Troublemaker!sevika and Tutor!reader

You weren’t sure when this became normal.

When tutoring sessions turned into something more—into lingering glances across textbooks, into stolen moments between classes, into a relationship that neither of you ever really talked about, but both of you knew was real.

It had started with her grumbling about the stupid school system, about how she didn’t need to study when she had “better things to do.” But now? Now, she was here—on time, every time, sitting across from you with a scowl like she hadn’t just walked across campus grinning at you like an idiot when she thought no one was looking.

She had changed.

Or maybe she hadn’t, and you were just seeing her differently now.

Either way, she was yours.

And that was enough.

“You’re staring.”

You blinked, realizing that, yes, you were staring, and, yes, she was very much aware of it.

“I’m not,” you lied.

She smirked. “Yeah? Then why haven’t you flipped the page in five minutes?”

You opened your mouth, then shut it.

Damn it.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Didn’t take you for the distracted type, tutor.”

You sighed, closing the book. “Maybe if you actually studied, I wouldn’t have to get distracted.”

She scoffed, leaning back. “I do study.”

You gave her a look.

“Okay, fine,” she huffed. “I study when you make me.”

“Exactly.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

Instead, she tilted her head, watching you in that way that always made your stomach do something weird.

“Why do you even put up with me?” she asked.

The question caught you off guard.

Not because you didn’t have an answer, but because she sounded genuinely curious.

Like she didn’t understand why you were still here.

Like she didn’t realize how easy it was to love her.

You frowned. “Because I want to.”

She stared at you for a moment, something unreadable flickering in her expression.

Then, suddenly, she reached across the table, grabbing your hand.

It wasn’t gentle.

It never was with her.

But her grip was warm, steady, real.

“…Good,” she muttered, squeezing your fingers once before pulling away. “You’re stuck with me, anyway.”

You smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Dating her meant learning to navigate her world.

The world of bruised knuckles and reckless grins, of sharp words and sharper instincts, of someone who had spent so long fighting that she didn’t know how to stop.

You didn’t mind.

She never hurt you—not really.

But sometimes, she’d show up to your study sessions with a fresh cut on her cheek, or a bandage wrapped around her hand, or a bruise blooming on her jaw, and every time, you’d sigh, pulling out your first aid kit without saying a word.

She hated it.

“You don’t have to—”

“I do.”

She huffed but didn’t pull away, letting you press a cotton pad to her cheek, wincing when the antiseptic stung.

“Idiot,” you muttered, brushing your thumb over her skin after you were done.

She smirked. “You love me.”

You didn’t argue.

Instead, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the uninjured side of her face.

She tensed for half a second before melting into it, her fingers curling around your wrist, holding you in place like she never wanted you to leave.

“…Yeah,” you murmured. “I do.”

There were other parts of her world, too.

Parts that had nothing to do with fights or scraped knuckles.

Like how she always walked you home, no matter how many times you told her she didn’t need to.

Or how she’d steal your pens just to hear you complain about it, only to return them later with a smug grin.

Or how she’d grumble about studying, but when you fell asleep next to her, she’d pull a blanket over you without saying a word.

Or how she’d stay, even when she didn’t have to.

She wasn’t the best with words.

But she didn’t need to be.

Not when she loved you like this.

“Hey,” she called one day, leaning against your locker.

You raised a brow. “What?”

She didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she shifted, suddenly looking a little… awkward.

Which was weird, because she was never awkward.

You frowned. “Are you—”

“I got you something,” she blurted out.

You blinked. “You what?”

She huffed, shoving something into your hands.

It was… a necklace. Simple, understated. Something you would actually wear.

You stared at it, then at her.

“…Why?”

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Because I wanted to.”

You looked down at it again, running your fingers over the chain.

It was nice.

And it was from her.

Your heart did that weird thing again.

“…Put it on me?” you asked softly, handing it back.

She blinked, like she hadn’t expected that, before scoffing. “You really like making me do things, don’t you?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

She muttered something under her breath but moved behind you, fastening the clasp.

Her fingers brushed against your skin, and you shivered.

“…There,” she murmured.

You turned back to her, letting her see the way you were smiling. “Thank you.”

She shrugged, but her ears were red.

You grinned.

Then, impulsively, you reached up, cupping her face in your hands before pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

She froze.

“…You absolute menace,” she muttered after a second, her voice half-choked.

You laughed. “You love me.”

She groaned. “I hate you.”

But the way she grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together as she pulled you down the hall?

That told a very different story.

— Artist!ekko and Muse!reader

The world felt different when he painted you.

Maybe it was the way his eyes softened as they traced your features, the way his lips quirked up ever so slightly in that absentminded, faraway smile. Or maybe it was the way he became so completely immersed in the moment, like nothing else existed except you, him, and the quiet hum of creation between you.

You weren’t sure when it had started—when you had become his muse, when his hands had memorized the slopes and curves of your expression more intimately than you ever could. But at some point, it became normal to sit in his studio, to let him paint you while the sun spilled golden light across the room.

At some point, it became home.

"Stay still," he murmured, his voice soft but firm.

You huffed but obeyed, shifting just slightly to get comfortable. “You know, I’m starting to think you just tell me that so I don’t walk away.”

He smirked without looking up. “Would it work?”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”

He chuckled, dipping his brush into a fresh stroke of color. "Then I don’t see the problem."

You watched him work, watched the way his fingers moved with practiced precision, his brow furrowing in deep focus.

It was so like him—to get completely lost in his art, in the way he captured emotions in strokes of paint. You weren’t even sure he realized how much he gave away when he worked. The quiet admiration, the unwavering patience, the unspoken tenderness in the way he committed you to canvas.

The thought made warmth curl in your chest.

He loved you.

Even in the moments when he didn’t say it outright, you felt it.

“…You’re staring,” he noted after a moment, amusement dancing in his tone.

You smirked. "So?"

"So," he mused, dabbing a final stroke onto the canvas before finally looking at you, "stay still."

You scoffed but didn’t argue.

His gaze lingered, studying you like he was committing every detail to memory.

Then, suddenly, he set the brush down, wiping his hands on a cloth before standing up and making his way toward you.

Your brows furrowed. "Are we done?"

He hummed, stopping right in front of you. "Almost."

Before you could question him, he reached out, gently swiping his thumb across your cheek.

You blinked.

“…Did you just wipe paint on me?”

His lips twitched. "Maybe."

Your jaw dropped. "You menace—"

He laughed, grabbing your hands before you could retaliate. "It’s barely anything!"

"You smudged me!"

"You’ll live."

You gasped dramatically. “I can feel it on my face—”

"Would you like me to fix it?"

You squinted at him, suspicious. "How?"

He smiled. "Like this."

And then, before you could react, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, right where the paint had been.

You froze.

Your heart stumbled over itself, warmth blooming beneath your skin.

"...That doesn’t count as fixing it," you mumbled, embarrassed by how breathless you sounded.

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his smile soft, fond.

"I disagree."

Loving him meant understanding the way he saw the world.

The way his hands itched to create, to turn fleeting emotions into something tangible.

The way he’d go silent for long stretches, caught up in his own thoughts, before suddenly dragging you into his latest project with that spark of inspiration in his eyes.

The way he loved you—not just with words, but in the way he painted you, over and over again, like he was trying to keep you forever.

And maybe, in his own way, he was.

One night, long after the city had gone quiet, you found yourself back in his studio, curled up on the couch while he worked.

You weren’t posing this time.

You were just there, watching as he sketched in his notebook, his focus unwavering even as the hours slipped by.

“…Do you ever get tired of painting me?” you asked suddenly.

He paused, looking up at you.

Then, without hesitation—"Never."

You stared at him. “You say that like it’s obvious.”

"It is obvious," he said simply, setting his notebook aside as he moved toward you.

You let him sit beside you, watching as he reached for your hand, tracing absentminded patterns along your fingers.

“…There are infinite things in the world to paint,” he murmured, his touch feather-light, reverent. “Landscapes, emotions, stories… But you?” He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles. "You are my favorite."

Your breath caught.

You weren’t used to this—to his quiet, devastating sincerity.

He didn’t always say how he felt outright. He spoke in colors, in soft touches, in lingering glances over paint-stained canvases.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

“…You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, feeling your face grow warm.

He smirked. “And you love me for it.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t deny it.

Instead, you tugged him closer, resting your forehead against his.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

You just existed—wrapped in warmth, in paint-stained fingertips and whispered affections between the silence.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

— Bestfriend!jayce

There were moments where you still couldn’t believe this was real.

That after years of laughter, inside jokes, stolen hoodies, and whispered dreams of the future, you had ended up here—curled up next to him, his arm lazily draped around you, as if this had been inevitable from the very start.

In a way, maybe it was.

Loving him never felt like a sudden thing, never like some grand revelation that struck you out of nowhere. It had crept in slowly, weaving itself between every late-night conversation, every lingering glance, every touch that lasted just a little longer than it needed to.

And now? Now it was second nature.

He was yours.

And you were his.

“You’re doing that thing again.”

You blinked. “What thing?”

He smirked without looking up from his book. “The thing where you stare at me like I put the stars in the sky.”

You scoffed, shoving him playfully. “Get over yourself.”

He chuckled, finally turning his attention toward you. “Not denying it, though.”

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you. “Maybe I was just zoning out.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Or judging you.”

“Doubt it.”

You sighed, dramatic. “God, dating you is exhausting.”

“Right?” he teased. “Can’t believe you fell for me.”

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Can’t believe I did, either.”

His expression softened at that, his teasing smile melting into something fonder.

Then, suddenly, he reached out, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face before letting his fingers trail down, tracing the curve of your jaw.

“…Lucky me,” he murmured.

Your breath caught.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

You just sat there, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin, your heart stumbling over itself at the way he was looking at you.

Like you were something rare.

Like he had been waiting his whole life for you.

“…You’re such a sap,” you whispered.

His lips twitched. “Only for you.”

The thing about dating your best friend was that nothing really changed.

Not in the way you expected, at least.

There were still late-night fast food runs, still study sessions that turned into existential conversations, still a constant presence at your side whenever you needed him (and even when you didn’t).

But there were differences, too.

Like how he held your hand without hesitation now, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Or how he hugged you longer, pressing his face into your shoulder like he needed to be close to you.

Or how he kissed your forehead absentmindedly whenever you did something that made him proud, as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Or how he whispered, "Love you," so casually, like he had always been saying it.

Like he always would.

“Okay, real talk,” he said one night, sprawled across your bed like he owned it.

You hummed, flipping a page in your book. “Mm?”

“If we weren’t dating, would you still have a crush on me?”

You blinked, giving him an unimpressed look. “What kind of question is that?”

“A valid one.”

You sighed, setting your book down. “We are dating.”

“But if we weren’t,” he pressed, propping himself up on his elbows. “Would you still be into me?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What kind of answer are you looking for?”

“The truth.”

You stared at him, trying to figure out what he was really asking.

Then, with a smirk, you shrugged. “Dunno. You’re kinda annoying.”

He gasped. “Rude.”

“But,” you continued, reaching over to poke his cheek, “I’d probably be in love with you anyway.”

He grinned. “Knew it.”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up.”

“Hopelessly in love.”

You groaned. “Why do I even like you?”

He laughed, grabbing your hand and lacing your fingers together.

“…Because we were always meant to end up here.”

Your breath hitched.

The words were simple, said so casually, but they settled deep in your chest, spreading warmth through your entire being.

Because he was right.

Every moment, every choice, every little thing that led to this—it had always been leading you here.

To him.

To this.

To something more than forever.

— Enemies to lovers!viktor and reader

It still surprised you sometimes—how things had changed.

How the cold rivalry that once existed between you had melted into something warm, something constant, something that made your chest tighten in the best way whenever you so much as thought about it.

About him.

Once upon a time, you and him had been at odds with each other, a battle of sharp words and stubborn ideals. He was relentless, fiercely determined, a mind constantly working ten steps ahead. And you—well, you were the opposite. Passionate, chaotic, diving headfirst into the unknown with little concern for anything but discovery.

But now?

Now he was yours.

And God, you loved him.

“Stop working,” you whined, dramatically flopping onto his desk.

He barely spared you a glance, eyes still locked onto the notebook in front of him. “Can’t.”

“You always say that,” you huffed, watching as he furiously jotted down another equation, his pen moving like it had a will of its own.

“Because it’s always true,” he shot back, voice carrying that familiar unwavering certainty.

You rolled your eyes. “Five-minute break.”

“No.”

“Two minutes?”

“No.”

You sighed, tilting your head at him. “What could possibly be so important that you can’t take two minutes to—” You peered at his notes and blinked. “Wait. Is this…” You trailed off, recognizing the layout of a physics equation, the bold scrawl of hypotheses scattered between calculations.

He finally glanced at you, the sharp glint of his focus not dulled in the slightest. “I had a thought earlier and needed to get it down.”

You stared at him. “You had a thought so urgent that you couldn’t even pause for two seconds?”

“Yes.”

You exhaled, shaking your head. “You’re crazy”

“And you’re distracting.”

“You love me, though.”

A flicker of something softened his expression. He didn’t answer immediately, just studied you with those impossibly sharp eyes, the ones that always seemed to be unraveling the mysteries of the universe—except, in that moment, they were solely on you.

“Yeah,” he murmured eventually, the intensity of it making your breath catch. “I do.”

It was rare, hearing it outright like that. He wasn’t one for grand proclamations, but when he did speak—when he let himself be honest—it always hit you like a tidal wave.

You swallowed, warmth pooling in your chest. “Then take a break.”

He sighed, exasperated but amused. Then, to your utter delight, he set his pen down.

“Two minutes,” he relented.

You grinned, holding out your arms. “Hug me.”

He stared. “…Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, like he was analyzing the request for its deeper meaning. Then, without another word, he leaned forward and pulled you against him.

You melted instantly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. His arms were strong, steady—the kind of embrace that felt unshakable, like he would hold the entire world together if it meant keeping you safe.

“…Better?” he murmured.

You nodded against him. “Much.”

His fingers lingered at your back, just the faintest trace of hesitation before he fully gave in, relaxing into the embrace.

And neither of you let go.

Dating him had been an adjustment.

He wasn’t the kind to wear his emotions on his sleeve. He was driven, always looking forward, always chasing after the next big thing. His brain never stopped, his heart never wavered, his ambition burning like an unstoppable fire.

Which meant he showed affection in his own way.

Like the way he never actually said I love you, but instead muttered things like, don’t forget to eat or stay inside, it’s cold.

Like the way he pretended to be annoyed when you interrupted his work, only to immediately pull you back when you tried to leave.

Like the way he sighed every time you teased him, only to let you lace your fingers with his under desks, his grip never faltering.

And the thing was?

You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

One evening, you were in the library together, him completely immersed in his research while you doodled aimlessly in your notebook.

The silence was comfortable, the kind that had become second nature between you.

Then, suddenly—

“…You make me reckless.”

You blinked. “Uh. Excuse me?”

He didn’t look up, his fingers tapping idly against the table. “You make me reckless,” he repeated, almost contemplative. “It’s irritating.”

You squinted at him. “Are you… saying you love me?”

He hummed. “Statistically, it would be hard to deny.”

Your heart stumbled over itself. “Oh my God.”

He finally looked up, arching a brow. “What?”

“You just confessed your love for me like it was a scientific fact.”

“…And?”

You let out a laugh, completely endeared. “You’re unbelievable.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t look annoyed. If anything, there was something fond in the way he regarded you, something soft in the way he reached out, tapping his fingers against your wrist.

“…You already knew,” he murmured.

It wasn’t a question.

Because of course you knew.

You had known for a long time now.

But hearing it—even in his own, methodical way—still sent warmth flooding through your entire being.

You smiled.

“Yeah,” you whispered, reaching for his hand, lacing your fingers together. “I did.”

And if he squeezed your hand just a little tighter?

Well.

You didn’t mention it.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: The Yapper, The Listener

Pairing: KK Arnold x Reader

Fandom: UConn's women's basketball

Rating: Fluff | First-Person POV

Summary: kk has always been the yapper, til you

Word Count: 1.4k

If you had told me a year ago that I’d somehow out-yap KK Arnold, I would’ve laughed in your face. I mean, KK? The loudest, chattiest, most relentless talker on and off the court? The same KK who could trash talk you into a bad game without even breaking a sweat? Yeah, right.

But here I was, sitting across from her at our usual booth in the student union, rambling about the absolute disrespect I’d endured in my morning class while she sipped her smoothie, nodding along like I was delivering the most important speech of the century.

“And then, tell me why this man had the audacity to mark my paper down a whole five points just because I ‘lacked conciseness’—KK, can you believe that? Lack conciseness? Babe, I am a storyteller. I paint pictures with my words.”

KK hummed, swirling her straw around her cup. “Mhm. Can’t rush the art.”

“That’s what I’m saying! He just doesn’t get my vision!” I huffed, leaning back against the cushioned booth. “Anyway, that ruined my whole morning. I had to go get an iced coffee just to recover, and then—”

I paused, narrowing my eyes at her. “Wait a minute. You’re way too quiet. What’s going on? You’re supposed to be my hype man in situations like this. Where’s the outrage? The energy? The unnecessary side commentary?”

KK smirked, resting her chin in her palm. “I mean… I figured you had it covered, mamas.”

I squinted. “What does that mean?”

She reached across the table, tapping my lips with her thumb. “It means you yap more than me now.”

I gasped, clutching my chest like she’d personally offended me. “That’s crazy. That’s actually insane.”

KK just laughed, settling back in her seat. “I used to think nobody could out-talk me, but you? You be talkin’.”

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, you act like you don’t love hearing me talk.”

She shrugged, lips twitching. “I do. That’s why I let you.”

That made me pause. My mind ran back to how things had shifted. When we first started dating, KK and I had been on the same level when it came to running our mouths. We’d banter back and forth for hours, seeing who could get the last word in (spoiler: it was usually me). But somewhere along the way, she’d settled into this… listening role.

Not because she had nothing to say—KK always had something to say—but because she liked hearing me talk.

I felt my face heat up at the realization. “Wait… have I just been yapping at you nonstop for months and you let me?”

KK grinned. “Mhm. And I don’t even mind.”

I stared at her. “I feel like I should be embarrassed. But I’m not.”

She reached for my hand, playing with my fingers. “Don’t be. I like it.”

And just like that, I melted.

Basketball practice had ended an hour ago, but I was still sitting on the sideline, waiting for KK to finish getting shots up.

Correction: commentating while waiting.

“There she goes, folks, lining up for the free throw—she dribbles once, twice—oh, she hesitates. The tension in the air is thick. Will she make it? Will she fold under the pressure? The crowd holds its breath—”

The ball swished through the net effortlessly.

KK turned to me with an unimpressed look. “You doubting me, mamas? That’s crazy.”

I grinned. “Never that, baby. Just setting the scene.”

She jogged over, resting her hands on her hips. “You ever thought about a career in commentary? You already talk enough for the both of us.”

I gasped dramatically. “So you admit I took your spot as the biggest yapper?”

KK shrugged, tapping my knee. “Go ‘head and take the title, baby. I like hearing you talk. You keep me entertained.”

I tilted my head at her, softening. “You really mean that?”

KK rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness there. “Yeah. Your voice is my favorite.”

Damn. How did she always make me feel like the luckiest person alive?

Later that night, we were curled up in my dorm, KK stretched out on my bed while I laid half on top of her, tracing patterns on her arm.

“I’m just saying, if you’re gonna sit there all quiet while I talk, I feel like you owe me commentary of some kind.”

KK raised a brow. “What kind of commentary?”

I huffed. “I dunno. Like little affirmations. ‘Mhm, that’s crazy’ isn’t gonna cut it all the time.”

She laughed. “Oh, so now you need me to hype you up while you talk? You getting greedy, mamas.”

I pouted, looking up at her. “I just like hearing your voice too.”

KK smirked before leaning down, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Okay. Next time you go on a rant, I’ll gas you up properly.”

I smiled, satisfied. “Good. Because I’ve been holding in a rant about how the dining hall got rid of my favorite cereal and I need you fully engaged.”

KK chuckled, wrapping her arms around me tighter. “I’m all ears, baby.”

And just like that, I went right back to talking, knowing she’d listen to every word.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 6 - you look good

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: lanuguage

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

you headed out of bed and made your way downstairs to where everyone was having breakfast, a rush of nerves taking over you entered the room, searching for the group.

you could feel rafe's gaze on you before you even looked in his direction, and when you did, you could see his eyes narrow, his look unreadable.

"there you are!" sarah spoke, "thought we were gonna have to leave without you." she laughed.

"don't be silly i just needed my beauty sleep." you laughed back. "what's the plan for today?"

"thought we could have a walk around a bit before we had to drive back?" cleo asked.

"sounds good" you said as you grabbed some pastries. "you gonna come rafe?" you asked him directly as he was yet to address you.

"i will if you are" he said quietly, making your heart skip a beat, his remark not going unoticed by the rest of the group.

jj cleared his throat, and a small smile played on sarah's lips, enjoying the small interaction between the two of you. "alright lets get going then, you guys ready?" she said.

"yeah lets go" topper said bluntly, a shift in his usual upbeat demeanour, but he quickly bounced back as you all made your way outside.

after a few hours walking around, you all made your way back to the hotel to pack up your things and get ready for the drive home. the boys had a flight to san francisco for their show before they were headed to LA for their last nights on tour there.

you had all made a rough plan to fly out to LA for the last show, making sure the whole group was there to celebrate the end of tour.

as everyone made their ways to their rooms, you hung behind with rafe, walking slower than the rest of the group, intenitally from you, and hoping it was for rafe also.

"how are you feeling to be finishing the tour?" you asked him, breaking the silence.

"sad, but ready for a long break and to spend some time at home" he replied leaning against the door as everyone got into their rooms.

you nodded understandingly, "LA will be good though. it'll be my first time there."

"no way? i'm gonna have to show you around then." he responded smugly.

"yeah?" you pushed.

"yeah." he smiled, "can't have you lost in the streets of LA now can we?" his height meaning he had to lean closer to you to get his words across.

"i guess we can't."

"i'm happy you're gonna be there." he added

"you are?'

"course." he responded quickly. "always nice to know there's a pretty girl in the crowd cheering me on." and with that, he turned away from you and made his way to his own room, leaving you flustered and stuck in your stance, taking in his words. pretty girl?

as you went to open the door, it flung open and sarah dragged you in.

"oh my god not to be a CREEP but i heard that all" she said excitedly. "y/n he likes you. i knew it i knew it!" she shut the door with an exagerated slam, not even giving you time to process what just happened.

"lord sarah what just happened." your voice barely above a whisper.

"he literally just called you pretty. i KNEW he was acting different around you, he's been so nervous." she squealed.

"are you sure it wasn't just rafe being rafe?"

"stop right there. look i'm not blind. it all makes sense now, the way he's always looking at you. i just thought he was trying to figure out his opinion on you, but he likes you. rafe isn't the type to throw out compliments like that, he's always playing it cool, he doesn't care about anything. but the way he just spoke to you? that was different"

"you don't mind?" you asked nervously.

"i would if i hadn't got to know you like i do now. i'm so protective of him and his whack ass fans, but i love you y/n, you've become my best friend in such a short time, i want you happy, and i want my brother happy. do you like him?"

"fuck, maybe. what does this mean?"

"i don't know, but i know LA is about to get a whole lot more interesting." she grinned. "come on let's hit the road and chat with the girls. we need to come up with a plan."

and with that, you finished packing and headed out the door, making your way to the car for the long drive home, where you were sure a lot would be unpacked.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

a/n: feeding you all today, felt the slowburn needed to be RESOLVED. anyway just wanted to clarify you can tell who's ig story it is by the profile pic as i'm not sure if that was clear or not my bad

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation

[jostystyles]

when i run out of road, you bring me home | sj

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JARVY SORRY YOU LOST :( but anyways, this is a culmination of me yapping to @mattyanonwrites about jarvy. i also had casual by chappell roan stuck in my head writing this, so it’s loosely based off that as well. and also happy bday harry styles there’s references to you in here too.

warnings: mentions of marijuana and alcohol, brief mentions of sex

word count: 2.1k. this was supposed to be a blurb.

The blare of the alarm broke him out of a peaceful sleep. The kind that makes you not want to get up, and just stay in the comfort of the blankets and shielded from the real world. Seth sighed as he rolled over to silence the alarm, scrolling through the slew of texts he was already receiving. If he wasn’t already awake, he was now after seeing the notification he’s always looking for.

12:07 am

(Y/N) 🤒

happy birthday jarvy :) hope you have the best day. miss you and sorry i won’t be around today to see you.

His heart clenched, as he realized she was the first person that texted him. She was also the only person he wanted to actually see today. In all honesty, she was the only person he really wanted to see ever. He’d take her in any capacity he could get. Loving the message and replying with a quick “thanks, miss you” and dragged himself out of bed to go in the shower. As the water cascaded down his body, he couldn’t help but let the memories flow of just last week when she was here with him, their bodies wet and flush to each other as one. Turning the water cold, Seth shook his head and dragged his hands down his face with a sigh.

He rode to the rink in silence, aside from a nice phone call with his mom, the only thing surrounding him was the sound of Carolina by Harry Styles coming from his speakers. It was a song (Y/N) added to his playlist as a joke, but one he’d grown to genuinely enjoy. (In all honesty, he actually enjoyed Harry’s music which is something he’d never admit to anyone) Surprisingly, he was the last one to arrive to the arena for morning skate, a role which was usually reserved for KK. As if they had it rehearsed, the second he set foot in the room he was met with the glaring shrieks of Martinook and immediately encapsulated in a three way hug by KK, Andrei and Burnzie.

“Happy birthday Jarvyman!”

“Gee thanks guys,” he exclaimed, “I was afraid that blink 182 lyric was true for a second there.”

Rolling his eyes and shoving Seth away, Andrei let out a chuckle.

“You pumped for the late evening, eh? Win or lose tonight we are getting very drunk. Rented out the Local for a good time.”

Seth smiled, replying with a laugh of “Hell yeah man.”

Andrei noticed his friends spirit was a little deflated.

“Yeah? Any chance of uh, you know who making an appearance?”

Like a sleeper agent, Seth’s demeanor activated from distracted to focused almost instantly.

“Uh, probably not. She texted me that she won’t be around today. She’s stuck in New York City with work.”

That’s why he was sad, Andrei realized. (Y/N) wouldn’t be in attendance. He might be playing with fire by saying this, but he just had to ask.

“You guys are still doing that casual thing, yes?”

Sliding his practice sweater over his pads, Seth nodded.

“Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it.”

Casual. Except he was eating her out in the passenger seat of his car the other day. Casual, when her mom invited him to their beach house for (Y/N)’s birthday in the summer.

He had no right to be as upset as he was. She wasn’t his girlfriend. In all honesty, he didn’t even know what she was anymore. Three months ago, she was the frazzled college girl he met his first year in Raleigh that became his best friend. The girl he couldn’t live without. Three months ago, she was the girl whose couch he cried on after his ex girlfriend cheated on him. One thing led to another, and the next thing he knew they were waking up naked and agreeing to keep it casual. But Seth liked to be stupid, and the guys teased him for it. He realized been in love with (Y/N) over the summer, and has done nothing but daydream about it to anyone but her. Nellie laughed and called him a romantic when he was wasted and told her and KK about his feelings, saying how he saw (Y/N) living in his apartment, her cats, and maybe they’d have a dog by then. And she’d take him with her and show him off to her friends back home.

“No attachment, right?”

He should’ve said no. Please. I’m attached. But instead, he agreed. A decision he was certainly regretting right now as he threw back his third green tea shot of the night, chasing it with a sip of his beer.

Jesperi sighed watching his best friend sulk at his own birthday party. In the next 5 minutes though, he was either going to go down as the best friend in the world or never be spoken to again. Glancing down at his phone, the message he’d been anxiously awaiting most of the night came through.

11:39 pm

(Y/N)

ubers 2 min out. do you think he’s onto us yet?

No. He doesn’t suspect a thing. Walking around the whole day like a sad puppy. Even looked dejected after he scored

fuck yeah. not that he’s sad, but this is going to be the best surprise ever. i’m here. keep him distracted

Realizing Seth was about to turn and head his direction, he raced forward to slap him on the back and keep him facing away from the door.

“Eh buddy, enjoying your night?”

“Yeah man this is awesome. I’m kinda beat though, think I’m gonna head out soon.”

KK squinted, pulling his head back a bit. “Leaving your own birthday party early? You good Jarvyman?”

Seth shrugged. “Yeah. ‘sides (Y/N) said she was gonna call me when she got to her hotel from the event she was at, but she hasn’t called me yet.” As soon as he stopped talking, he felt a pair of soft arms snake around his waist.

“Yeah, sorry about that. My plane got delayed a few times. Sorry I’m late to the party.”

Whipping around faster than he could on skates, he was met with his favorite smile and the prettiest eyes he’d grown fond of looking into blinking excitedly at him.

“(Y/N)? You’re here? I thought- New York, and you’d be stuck until tomorrow, and…oh my god.” he trailed off, burying his head into her neck and breathing in the scent of her. He could feel the tears pricking his eyes as he swayed her back and forth.

Giggling, (Y/N) murmured into his ear, “Of course I’m here, Seth. I would’ve never missed this. Happy birthday my dear.” she finished, pressing a soft kiss to his scruffy cheek.

“Can we leave? Now, please? Just wanna be with you.” He mumbled back, still holding onto her.

“Already? I just got here! At least let me say hi to everyone before I go-“

“You’ll see them at the next game. Let’s go.” He said, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the bar. As they raced out, (Y/N) waved at Andrei and Jaccob, who were beside themselves with laughter at Seth’s sudden desire to leave his own party. Thankful he moved his car across the lot after the game, Seth opened (Y/N)s door for her before climbing into his own side of the car.

“I can’t believe you’re here right now. For the record, worst surprise ever. You showed up with only an hour left in my birthday.” He teased, fingers tapping the steering wheel with anxiety.

“Yeah well tell that to mother nature. I tried to get in so I could at least see the game, but we couldn’t depart JFK until the storm passed. I had to warn KK before puck drop to update our plans.”

“He was in on this?”

“Yeah, always. As soon as I found out I was going to come home today I texted him.”

“You guys suck. I don’t like being left out.”

(Y/N) laughed. “Jarvy, we were surprising you. We kind of had to leave you out.”

“Well yeah, but that doesn’t stop me from getting FOMO.”

The elevator ride up to his apartment was silent, which was unlikely for Seth. (Y/N) could tell he was on edge, and she wasn’t sure why. Before she could let her thoughts wander further, the bell dinged and they walked out hand in hand to his door.

Seth’s heart was racing. From almost bawling like a baby at the sight of her, he really hadn’t talked to (Y/N) that much since she got here. But in his own defense he didn’t think he’d have to do this so soon. Since she left last week, (Y/N) had left a void in Seth’s life. He’d always had her in some capacity since they came into each other’s lives. But lately, since they started whatever this thing they had going on, he craved her in every way imaginable. If all it took for him to realize he finally had to tell her how he felt was her going out of town, he’d have bought her a ticket a long time ago.

They stepped into his apartment, leaving their shoes by the door. As soon as (Y/N)s second boot was off her foot, Seth’s hands were grabbing her face, bringing it towards his own. His lips were soft on hers, and she could taste the cheap beer he’d been nursing all night. (Y/N) loved kissing him, but this one was different. Usually, every kiss they shared was fueled by pure lust, the marijuana smoke in their lungs or liquor in their veins providing accelerant. But this one, right now, was one fueled by something different.

Pulling away from her, his brown eyes wide, he rambled out, “I need to tell you something. Let’s go.”

“Seth. Honey, you’re scaring me. You’ve been weird all night, is everything okay?” (Y/N) asked, as they made their way to the couch.

“Yes it’s ok. I promise. Just please, listen to me, ok?” Seth replied, sliding himself into a position where he was kneeling in front of her, his head resting against her tummy. They’d been in this position many times before, but in his eyes this was the most intimate one yet.

“I don’t think I can be casual anymore. It’s getting too hard for me. Because I think it feels too real. And that’s what I want. The real thing. With you.”

“Seth, honey-“

“Wait please, let me get it out before you say anything, ok?” She nodded to him in response.

“I want to be yours. Your favorite bra is in my dresser, and I know my favorite jacket is at your place. I can’t call it casual when I was on the phone talking your sister down from dropping out of soccer. Or when you’re texting with Kayden about what he should buy his girlfriend at Ulta. Because that to me means we’re in this. And I try to be chill about it, and you know I love to talk but I try to hold my tongue on that topic because I want to give you space and not overwhelm you. But it’s overwhelming me. And I hate that I let this drag on so long because now I’m hating myself for not telling you sooner.”

“Oh, Jarvy. Don’t you know how much I love you?” (Y/N) replied, her acrylic nails scratching his head softly.

Seth must have died and gone to heaven. “You do?”

“Of course I do. I should’ve told you sooner. That night you kissed me, I decided that I’d have you in whatever way I could. And that meant being casual so it would hurt less when you eventually got tired of me. Because you were never really mine” (Y/N) confessed, sort of feeling a weight lift off her chest. She’s loved him for so long.

Seth moved so he was on top of her, her back pressed to the corner of the couch, their legs intertwined at the opposite end. “I love you. I love you so much. You’re my best friend. I’ll never get tired of you.”

(Y/N) giggled, leaning forward slightly to capture his lips in a quick kiss. “I know that now, silly boy.”

Seth rested his head on her boobs, his arms squeezing her waist a little tighter. Eyes closed, he laid there for a few minutes, listening to the beat of her heart, following the rise and fall of her breathing, and feeling the warmth of her hands in his hair.

“You know what would be the best birthday gift ever?”

“What’s that, honey?”

“For you to be my girlfriend.”

(Y/N) let out a cackle. “Well, it’s a good thing you asked because I left your other gift at my apartment.”

Jesperi was definitely getting an expensive gift for his birthday this year.

tags: @comphyjost @ilyasorokinn @lam-ila @2manytabsopen @laurenairay @leafsbabe

[sturn777]

how would mechanic!reader react if car racer!chris got a little too friendly with an interviewer??

hands off the driver — c. sturniolo

you knew chris had a flirty streak. it was part of his charm, the same cocky grin and smooth talk that got sponsors eating out of his hand. you usually didn’t let it get to you. but watching him lean just a little too close to that interviewer, flashing that grin and letting his hand linger on her arm? yeah, that wasn’t sitting right with you.

you stayed silent, arms crossed, wiping your hands off with a rag as you leaned against his car. you weren’t the type to throw a fit. oh no, you’d make him feel it instead.

chris, oblivious at first, strutted over after the interview, all high on himself like usual. “yo, did you see that? she was eatin’ up everything i said,” he chuckled, shaking his head.

you didn’t even look up. “yeah, i saw.”

he frowned at your tone. “what’s with the attitude?”

you scoffed, tossing the rag onto the car hood. “no attitude. why don’t you go have her check your tires before the next race?”

his smirk faltered, realization settling in. “ohhh, that’s what this is about.” he stepped closer, crowding you against the car. “you jealous, baby?”

you rolled your eyes, pushing past him. “please. like i care who you flirt with.”

but before you could walk off, his hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you back against his chest. “nah, see, i think you do,” he murmured, voice dropping as he leaned in. “and i like it.”

you glared up at him, trying to ignore the way your pulse jumped at his proximity. “you’re insufferable.”

he smirked. “and you’re hot when you’re pissed.”

“then you’re about to find me real attractive,” you shot back, shoving a wrench into his chest before pulling away. “your engine needs tuning. try not to get distracted this time, yeah?”

he watched you walk off, shaking his head with a low chuckle. damn, he really loved getting under your skin.

💬 : about to post some requests !! they been sitting in drafts for 2 long

🏷 : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory ; @matttsangel ; @awnmaneez ; @heartss4clauu ; @mattsstarlet ; @madisturni ; @marrykisskilled ; @inspiredangel ; @mattsdemi ; @sturnioloangell ; @ivyandthebeans ; @amelia-sturniolo3 ; @dominicfikeenthusiast ; @sophand4n4 ; @ch6rm ; @et6rnalsun; @sturniolossss ; @jetaimevous )

[hauntedbydreams]

The long awaited part 2 to the Cuddly!Vi Headcanons as promised

Cuddly!Vi Headcanons Pt. 2 💞

P.S. it’s a bullet point kinda day

Actually loves to read before bed because she used to pass time in prison like that

Her favorite is when you cuddle up and you each read your own copy of the same book so you can discuss your thoughts about it later.

She’s a very restless reader, blame it on the undiagnosed ADHD, but she fidgets all the time and takes forever to get comfy.

Even when she does, she’s switching positions and rummaging around the blankets and pillows every few minutes

You’d think she’d be the same with sleeping but oh no. Once she’s asleep, she’s out like a light.

Didn’t used to be like that. In prison she had to keep her guard up all the time and never let herself fully relax. She also had nightmares about the beatings a lot but after moving in with you and realizing she’s safer than she’s been in years, she’s back to her teenage habits of sleeping like a log.

Snores, a lot! You just kinda shove her and she snorts, maybe turns her head up, half consciously, and then goes right back to sleeping, pulling you closer to her by the waist in the process

Vi always has her hand on your waist when you sleep. Always. And good luck getting out of bed to go pee at night.

“Mmgh where are you going” she grunts sleepily as you try to nudge her off so you can get out of bed.

“I’m just going to the bathroom Vi”

“Mm…hurry back, can’t sleep without you”

But by the time you’re back she’s already snoring. You crawl into bed beside her and almost on cue, her hand is back around your waist as she sleeps face down snoring into the pillow. Even subconsciously she always keeps you close.

Loves being big spoon

Unless it’s her turn to be little spoon. That’s a whole other story. (sHe’S jUsT a LiTtLe BaBy!!)

She’s really gotta be in a mood for that to happen, or it’s one of those days when she’s being quieter than usual and you notice. So you’re all about taking care of her, washing her hair, making her dinner and of course letting her be little spoon.

She kinda likes that it’s a special treatment thing because she feels like she earns it then, even though you’ve told her a million times that you love her and she doesn’t need to earn your love. But not much you can do to rewire an eldest daughter’s brain when it comes to earning and deserving love…!

Vi’s favorite cuddling position though, is when she can crawl up between your legs to lie face down on ur chest. She falls asleep every time while u scratch at her scalp through her pink hair.

Loves to sleep in with you on lazy mornings.

Those are her absolute fave cuddle sessions. Sun on your skin, messy sleep hair, PJs riding up and the warmth of your bedsheets, she swears she could die happy.

Contrary to popular belief, Vi’s not doing her workouts and going for runs at the ass crack of dawn. She prefers to do them later in the day or especially at night while half the world is asleep and everything is dark out, shimmering streetlights as she goes for her midnight run.

She comes back home, showers and then crawls into bed next to you, where you’re usually still awake anyway, waiting for her. Those late nights are her second favorite cuddle sessions. Just you her and the moon.

Cuddly!Vi def comes out when she’s sick

Vi is such a cry baby when she’s sick

“Baby, come cuddle me please” she’s whining before you’ve even made it to the kitchen to make her some tea.

“Can you kiss it better?” With the puppy dog eyes

“Vi it’s literally a cold, where am I supposed to kiss it better?!?”

“Mmm my forehead” “no wait, and my nose” “actual also my lips” and she’s jutting out her bottom lip in a mini pout.

“Yeah ok at this rate I’m gonna get sick too, and then who’s gonna take care of you?”

She’s just pouting up at you and giving you those powder blue puppy eyes. You really can’t deny her.

Very touchy cuddly coded, like will be extremely touchy and soft when you’re out, literally ANYWHERE.

Needs to have her hands on you, on your waist, on your thigh, in your hand, arm around your shoulder, around your hips, head nuzzled in your neck, or resting on top of your head… you name it, she’s tried every PDA move under the sun.

Just a touch starved baby who’s love languages are definitely physical touch and acts of service.

[freshl6ve]

𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒. 𝐒 | 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐓 𝐔𝐏 & 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄⁶

⭑.ᐟ : 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬, assaulting my sensitive eyes and exacerbating the headache pounding in my skull. I groaned, rubbing my forehead as I tried to wake up properly.

As the events of the previous night slowly came back to me, I sat up, rubbing my forehead to relieve the throbbing pain.

As I sat up in bed, the haze of sleep slowly clearing from my mind, the memory of Chris being at my side the night before resurfaced. I faintly remembered him helping me change and then telling me he would sleep on the couch.

I pushed myself up from the bed, wincing slightly as the headache made itself known again. With slow, deliberate steps, I made my way downstairs.

As I reached the living room, I called out, my voice still rough with sleep. “Chris?”

I searched the living room for Chris, but he was nowhere to be found. Confused, I made my way to the kitchen. There, on the island, I found a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. Laid out neatly next to them was a note.

I picked up the note, scanning the words written on it.

Had to take off, needed to take care of something. Make sure you take the painkillers. Might be back, might not. Who knows ;)

- Chris

Following his instructions, I reached for the painkillers, popping them into my mouth and downing them with a gulp of water. As I did, I couldn’t help but wonder what he was off to take care of.

The painkillers began to take effect, dulling the throbbing in my head. I took another sip of water, sighing as the discomfort subsided.

Setting the glass down, I looked at the note again, a part of me hoping he would come back, despite his ambiguous message.

I was lost in my thoughts when the doorbell suddenly rang, jolting me back to reality. I blinked, momentarily disoriented as I snapped out of my reverie.

With a slight grimace, I made my way to the front door, bracing myself for whoever was on the other side.

As I opened the door, I was met with the sight of Matt standing there, his usual charming smile on his face.

“Hey,” he greeted me, his eyes taking in my disheveled state for a moment before returning to my face. “Rough night?”

“Honestly, yeah,” I replied, my voice still hoarse from sleep. I stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in. “You could say that.”

I closed the door behind him, turning to face him as he made his way further into the penthouse.

Matt stepped further into the living room, his gaze on me as he spoke. “You good after everything last night?” he asked, his tone laced with concern. His brows furrowed as he studied my appearance, undoubtedly noting the signs of a night that was less than rejuvenating.

Matt continued, leaning against the back of a chair as he spoke. “You know, with the police chase and dealing with Chris the whole night… he must have been a real pain in the ass.”

I smiled slightly at his comment, leaning against the island as I replied. “Actually, he wasn’t as bad as I thought he would be.” I paused for a moment, my mind replaying the events of the previous night. “He was… surprisingly decent.”

Matt looked around the living room, his gaze sweeping over the place before he turned back to me, his face a subtle mix of curiosity and concern.

“Did you two...you know, hook up?” he asked bluntly, his eyes searching my face for any sign of a response.

I was caught off guard by the sudden question, my eyes widening slightly. “What?” I repeated, my voice a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “No, absolutely not. Why would you even ask that?”

I looked down at the jersey I was wearing, realizing that it was indeed the one Chris had been wearing the night before. He taken it off to put it on me last night. I hadn’t even noticed when I got out of bed this morning.

I looked over at the coffee table, where Chris’s hat was still lying exactly where he had left it, confirming Matt’s observation.

I turned back to Matt, my voice a little defensive. “Matt, it’s not what it looks like, I swear. We didn’t do anything,” I insisted. “Chris helped me to bed last night. He helped me get changed for bed and he must have put me in his shirt because he probably didn’t want to go through my closet. And his hat, he probably forgot it since he slept on the couch.”

Matt listened, his expression softening as he took in my explanation. He looked at the shirt I was wearing again, then at the hat on the coffee table, before his gaze returned to me.

“So nothing happened?” he asked, his voice tinged with skepticism.

I ran a hand through my hair in frustration, letting out a sigh. “Matt, you’re killing me here. Nothing happened. Nothing. At. All.” I said firmly, my tone leaving no room for doubt, as I walked over to the couch and sat down.

I sat down on the couch, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I knew that technically, something did indeed happen between Chris and me last night. We had almost kissed, almost went further. But the circumstances made it complicated, and if Matt knew about it… well, it was safer for everyone if he didn’t.

“Nothing happened, okay?” I reiterated, my voice steady despite the guilt gnawing at me.

Matt leaned back and ran a hand through his hair, his expression serious.

“It’s just I don’t want you to become like one of those girls he plays around with,” he said, his voice tinged with genuine concern. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. He’s not a good person, romantically, Y/N.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. I knew Matt was right. Chris was known for his womanizing ways, and I knew getting involved with him would only end in heartache. But the way he was the night before, the moments we almost shared… it made me want to believe that there was more to him than just a playboy reputation.

“I know,” I replied quietly, my voice subdued. “I know what he’s like. Trust me, I do.”

Matt nodded, a look of understanding passing on his face. He leaned forward in the chair, his eyes never leaving me.

“Just… be careful, alright?” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Just… don’t let him take advantage of you. You’re better than that, Y/N. You deserve better than that.”

I looked down at my hands, picking at a thread on the sleeve of Chris’s jersey. “I opened up to him last night,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. “I told him things I’ve only told you.”

I swallowed hard, my eyes distant as I continued. “It was bound to happen, so I just told him,” I said softly. “I never expected to open up to him, but in that moment, it just… happened.”

Matt was watching me intently. “Is that what you really wanted, or did he push you to?” he asked gently.

I shook my head, a mixture of emotions swirling within me. “No, he didn’t push me to do anything,” I replied, my voice steady. “It just kind of…came out. We were talking, and…I opened up to him. It was my decision, no one else’s.”

Matt nodded, seeming to accept my response. “You’re sure?” he asked, his eyes searching my face. “You felt safe with him? You felt comfortable telling him these things?”

Matt sat back, running a hand through his hair as he processed this new information. He looked at me silently for a few moments, before speaking again.

“Can I ask you something, Y/N?” he said, the timbre of his voice serious.

I looked up at him, my heart clenching involuntarily. His tone of voice indicated that whatever he was about to ask was important.

“Of course,” I replied, bracing myself for the question.

Matt leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as his gaze met mine. “Do you trust him?” he asked, his voice low, his eyes never leaving mine.

I paused, trying to formulate my thoughts into words. The question of trust was complicated, especially when it came to Chris.

“No,” I said, my voice faltering. “But also, yeah. Kinda. It’s really complicated.” I took a deep breath, continuing. “He...he asked if it was my first time getting chased by the police, and I told him about how I used to be a street racer, and then he lit up a joint, and I had some, and then everything just... came out.”

Matt shot upright in his chair, his eyes wide in shock and concern. “You smoked?! What the fuck, Y/N?!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and agitation. “I thought you were over that bullshit. Did he force you? That son of a bitch,” he grumbled, pacing the room.

I immediately put my hands up, trying to placate Matt’s growing anger. “It was just one hit, Matt. Just a little bit. I chose to take it,” I said defensively. “He didn’t force me into it. In fact, he took it away from me when I told him about my past addiction issues.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, a mix of worry and irritation on his face. “You told him everything?” he said, his voice strained. “Jesus, Y/N, he can’t be trusted. And you know it.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, raking my fingers through my tangled hair. “I know. I know, okay?” I replied, my voice shaky. I slumped back into the couch, the weight of Matt’s words sinking in. I knew he was right. Chris couldn’t be trusted. But even so…

“It’s just…” I protested weakly. “He was actually… different. Last night. He wasn’t the same Chris I’ve come to know.”

Matt stopped pacing and turned to look at me, his expression a mixture of understanding and concern.

“Because he got you to open up to him,” he said quietly. “It’s what he does. He weasels his way in, makes you feel like you can trust him, and then he uses it against you.”

I flinched at the harsh truth in his words, knowing deep in my gut that it was the truth. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something different about Chris last night. Something that felt too real to dismiss.

“Maybe, but-” I started to protest, but Matt cut me off before I could continue.

“No buts, Y/N,” he said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. “He’s used to getting what he wants from girls, and he knows how to play them. You can’t let yourself be just another notch in his bedpost.”

I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with the fabric of the jersey as I tried to come up with a response.

“But he was actually listening,” I said, my voice pleading. “He wasn’t just pretending to listen so he could get me into bed. He actually listened and… cared.”

I paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “And when he was helping me to bed, he was… respectful. Most guys like him wouldn’t even consider being respectful and would just want a quick fuck. He didn’t try anything. He was different.”

Matt listened in silence, his jaw tight as he absorbed my explanation. I could see the struggle in his expression, the war between his protective instincts and the reality of the situation.

“Y/N” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “Chris… he’s good at what he does. This is just the first stage. Don’t let him fool you into thinking he’s something he’s not.”

I bristled at his words, knowing deep down that he was right. But the memories of last night, of the genuine conversation and the respectful treatment, were still fresh in my mind, making it difficult to fully accept his statement.

“I know he’s good at what he does, Matt,” I said, my voice betraying a hint of defensiveness. “But you weren’t there. You didn’t see the way he was last night.”

Matt threw his hands up in frustrated agitation. “Are you even listening to yourself?!” he exclaimed, his voice rising. “You say you know, but then you’re sitting there, defending him like he actually cares. He’s played this game hundreds of times before.”

I met his gaze, my own frustration mounting. “I know he’s played this game many times before, Matt,” I snapped back. “I’m not stupid. But you’re not listening to me either. There was something different about him last night. Something genuine.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my defensiveness flaring. “I don’t even know why you’re so upset and making it such a big deal,” I said, my voice tinged with annoyance. “I just got high and had a conversation. It’s not like I’m in love with the guy or anything.”

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. “I opened up to him, and it was fully my choice,” I said, my voice firmer this time. “I know you care about me, Matt, and I don’t want you to think I’m being impulsive or careless. But you need to understand and trust me with my decisions, because right now it feels like you don’t trust me at all.”

Matt’s expression shifted, a flicker of hurt passing over his face at my words. But then his jaw tightened, his resolve hardening.

“I do trust you, Y/N,” he replied, his voice earnest. “But I also know Chris. And I can’t just stand by and watch you put yourself in a position to get hurt by him.”

My annoyance quickly dissolved, replaced by a wave of guilt. I knew Matt was just trying to protect me, and I couldn’t really blame him.

“I know you’re just trying to look out for me,” I said, my voice softer. “But I’m not some naïve teenager. I can handle myself around him.”

I paused, collecting myself before continuing. “And with the smoking...” I began, my voice steady. “I’m older now. I have more self control than I did at 18. And I promise you, I won’t fall back into that addiction again. I know when to stop now.”

Matt studied my face, his expression still conflicted. He wanted to believe me, I could see it in his eyes. But years of being my friend, of seeing me struggle with self-destructive behaviors, made it difficult for him to fully trust that I wouldn’t slip back into old habits.

Matt’s voice was low, his gaze never leaving my eyes. “You promise?” he asked, his words a mixture of skepticism and hope.

“I promise,” I replied, my voice firm and unwavering. I needed him to trust me, to believe that I had matured and learned from my past mistakes.

A flicker of relief passed over Matt’s face, and he gave a slight nod. “I trust you, Y/N,” he said, his voice softer now. “And no matter what decisions you make, I’ll be there for you.”

Matt’s smile then turned into a sly grin. “But just know,” he added, a hint of menace in his eyes, “I won’t hesitate to beat Chris’s ass if he tries to pull anything.”

I chuckled, relief washing over me as I pushed myself up from the couch. I walked over to Matt and wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his chest.

“Yeah, I know,” I replied, my voice muffled against his shirt. “Thanks for looking out for me, Matt.”

He hugged me back fiercely, his arms wrapping around me in a protective embrace.

“Always, Y/N,” he said gruffly, his voice betraying the affection he had for me. “You know I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

Matt pulled back slightly, looking down at me with a sheepish expression on his face.

“I’m sorry for making an argument,” he said, his voice sincere. “I just… I worry about you, alright? I never want to see you hurt, again.”

I smiled, touched by his apology. “I know, Matt,” I said, resting a hand against his chest. “And I appreciate it. I really do. But sometimes…you just need to trust me.”

He sighed, the tension slowly leaving his body. “I know,” he replied, resting his hand over mine where it was on his chest. “It’s just not always easy to do, when it comes to you, Y/N.”

“I'm gonna trust you on this. Just don't make me regret it, okay?” he said, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

I squeezed his hand, my own smile mirroring his. “I won’t,” I assured him. “You know me. I’m not the same girl I used to be. I learned from my mistakes. Believe me, Matt, I don’t plan on making any new ones.”

The atmosphere between us was almost intimate as Matt looked down at me, a small smile on his face. His eyes were soft and warm, the tension finally lifted.

Then the moment was broken when his phone buzzed with a notification. Matt reluctantly pulled away from our embrace, checking his phone.

I stepped back as Matt checked his phone, a wave of disappointment washing over me. “You gotta go?” I asked, trying to hide the reluctance in my voice.

Matt looked up from his phone, a sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah,” he replied, putting his phone back in his pocket. “Gotta make a delivery.”

I gave him a small smile, reluctantly accepting the reality that he had to go. “Okay, see you soon then?” I said, trying to inject some positivity into my voice.

Matt nodded, his smile now tinged with a hint of regret. He didn’t want to leave either, but duty called. “Yeah, I’ll see you soon,” he said, heading towards the door. “Be careful, okay? And call me if you need anything.”

I let out a long sigh, feeling a pang of loneliness in the sudden silence. But I pushed it aside, reminding myself that I could handle a few hours alone. I’d done it before, and I could do it again. Besides, I had a lot to think about, especially after the events of the previous night.

A/N: BEEN SO BUSY THAT I CANT EVEN POST MY DRAFTS BUT IM TRYING TO BE AS ACTIVE NOW! THANK YOU ALL FOR THE BDAY WISHES I LOVE YOU ALL<3

TAGS: @st6rify @jetaimevous @certifiedstarrr @slvtf0rchr1s @l3sbiancvnt @wh0remikasas @r0s3luvr @emely9274 @mimiluvzpicklez @courta13 @talia-unknown @ivysturnss

── .✦ MASTER—LIST ⭑𓂃

[lu-is-not-ok]

Hi! I was wondering what your thoughts were on the relationship between Hong Lu and Xichun. Namely (if I'm interpreting this correctly), how much he seems to care for her well-being. This has been nagging me since Canto 7 but he was so insistent on her being careful or joining up with him. Like you can tell how bothered he was. And HL, while often repeating some form of "my family sucks" doesn't usually let it linger? He makes a joke and moves on. I haven't heard anyone talking about it but this is the first time HL has shown care towards any of his family, even if later he is all "yeah if she dies, she dies, oh well". You're not fooling anyone, you.

You're right on the money with that one! When Hong Lu calls Xichun his 'most amicable sibling', I believe he's very much being truthful about that. Because while yes, she's rude and tends to do everything in her power to push him away, there are small moments that show that their care for each other is in fact mutual.

After all, she herself even points out that if it was any other sibling he ran into, he would have already been taken out. But Xichun doesn't do that. She doesn't kill him, or try to capture him, even though she's clearly aware that their Family is actively looking for him.

In a way, she's similar to Hong Lu in that she's never entirely straightforward with how she feels about things. She often puts on some sort of facade to hide the true meaning of her words, just in her case it's a mask of hostility, likely to defend herself in her position.

There's two moments in particular I feel that exemplify this by alluding to how Xichun actually feels towards Hong Lu, beneath her anxieties and prey animal rage.

The first one is this.

I've already gone at length about this scene from Hong Lu's perspective, how the thought of being an embarrassment to someone else in his Family causes him to shut down and default to trying to nod along and speed through the conversation as fast as possible. However, I think Xichun's response here is likewise notable.

Because she almost immediately backs up. It feels almost as if she's lamenting that he's still dealing with such situations as badly as he did back at home, and after giving one more 'jab' (one that you could even read as a backhanded form of assurance that she is in fact safe for him to be around), she takes the hint and ends the conversation.

The second one is the exchange that leads to them parting ways.

This is perhaps the most obvious Xichun has ever been about her own worries for Hong Lu. She's very visibly showing concern and outright anxiety over the thought that Hong Lu isn't taking things seriously and putting himself in danger. And then I believe she realized why that is.

If you've seen any of my analyses and theories, you know that I'm a firm believer that Hong Lu lied about the reason why he left the Jia household, and that in reality he's a runaway. This moment here is I believe the moment Xichun realizes that he ran away as well, and as such his goal is completely different from hers. As Hong Lu himself later states, "The path diverges, and we must each take the other trail."

After that exchange she continues to show concern for him, if somewhat indirectly.

I don't think she's saying this just to give advice on what Donqui/Sancho might be feeling at the moment. I believe she's implying that she's recognising that Hong Lu himself might be or at some point have been in a similar situation, and is thus attempting to empathize with him. Hong Lu's response here feels like he's taken the hint and is confirming it, clearly speaking from a much more personal place and experience.

And then, of course, is the moment they split up.

Another one of Xichun's backhanded assurances. She might sound rude here, but the essence of what she's saying is clear here. She will come back for him and maybe even support him.

So, yeah! Hong Lu not only cares about Xichun, but has every reason to! She's clearly one of the few Family members he has that actually seems to care about him in return! Even if it is buried underneath her harsh demeanor.

And regarding the one scene you bring up, well, I might as well repeat my own full interpretation of it now that we've gained more insight into Hong Lu after the check-up intervallo.

Note how Hong Lu directly interrupts Gregor here. I believe Hong Lu here is reacting very emotionally, effectively snapping at Gregor for what he implied. Part of it I believe is the implication that the death of a loved one would hold any substantial meaning to Hong Lu, something he is extremely philosophically opposed to due to viewing all kinds of death as meaningless.

But the other part of it is, well, that the thought of someone he loved dying in front of his eyes brings up memories he doesn't want to acknowledge. So he snaps back with as straightforward an answer as he can come up with so as to not give himself the time to dwell on the idea. Because it sure is suspicious he has yet to mention the one other person in his household that is ought to be very amicable towards him, no?

[sunny374940]

You are safe with me

Hi, back on my emmrook bullshit again. What if Rook convinced Emmrich to try babywearing? Would there be happy tears? Quite likely, where Emmrich is concerned.

Guys, pspsps @lavender-tea-fling, @mercars-musings, @spinfins, @starfleetteddybear, @redheadsramblings, @sorrowsfallallaround

Here on ao3, here's the rest of my many stories.

“Rook, I really don't think this is going to work.”

“You're worrying too much, Emmrich, you're gonna be fine.”

Rook was wrapping him in some kind of a fabric contraption and the sheer length of the thing was mind-boggling. Around the chest, to the back and across the shoulders, the ends of it trailing along the floor and this was a lot more complicated than it looked when Rook did it.

“But you have much more experience with this than I do.”

“Yeah, by like two weeks? Come on, she's your daughter too now, you can do this.”

Daughter. It still stunned him to think of the girl like that. It had been a mere week since Rook brought Elanora into their home and while there had been some issues in figuring out diapers and food for her, she fit into their family rather well. And Manfred simply adored her, though that was unsurprising, given that he was the embodiment of curiosity and what was a baby, if not curious.

“Let's go, Ellie, up you get.”

Rook picked her up from the rug where she'd been playing and started stuffing her down the piece of fabric across Emmrich’s chest so they were facing each other. She fixed him with an inquisitive look. This wasn't the usual arrangement and she seemed to be wondering where they were going with all this. Rook was hard at work finishing the tie, leaving the pair of them watching each other. Emmrich hoped dearly that this wouldn't make her cry.

“And you tuck it between the two of you like this, so she doesn’t fall out… and then those long bits cross under her butt and you tie them at your back. And spread these out so it doesn't cut into her legs. And done.”

Rook stepped away, looking satisfied with his work. Ellie was sitting in the wrap, snug against Emmrich’s ribcage, and he found himself afraid to breathe too deeply for fear of hurting her tiny body, though she didn't seem to mind. Her legs were poking out from the knees down, wrapped around his sides and she was kicking them contentedly. She folded her arms against his chest, making a cooing sound, and perhaps this wasn’t so bad?

“There, bug, wasn’t that easy?” Rook asked and it appeared that Ellie realized that there actually might be a problem with this. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be, which was on Rook's chest, and she started fussing. Emmrich tensed in response, which made her try to push herself away from him and she was trying to wriggle out of the damnable wrap and this wasn't working, he'd known it wouldn't and now he was making her upset-

“Hey, hey, it's alright, bug. Where's your bunny?”

Rook sat the toy on Emmrich's shoulder, and she forgot that she was annoyed, reaching for the little crocheted rabbit to wave it around with a giggle. Emmrich let out a breath of relief. And now that he tried it they could be done with it and get her out again. But Rook seemed to have different plans.

“Let's go outside before she realizes,” Rook whispered to him, taking his hand and dragging him out the front door. Emmrich knew that there would be no arguing with him now and allowed himself to be led outside.

Walking around with a baby strapped to his chest like this was certainly a novel experience. They decided to take a stroll along the river and Emmrich kept fidgeting with the fabric, worried that Ellie would fall out somehow. But what if he was cutting off her circulation? Could he tell? He checked her feet for the eighth time and they were still wiggling and warm, so she probably wasn’t in imminent danger of losing a limb, but he would definitely have to check again soon. A soft chuckle drew him away from his worrying.

“You're overthinking it, love. Look at her, she's happy.”

Emmrich glanced down and she did seem happy. Watching their surroundings with round eyes, so interested in every little thing. It was truly marvelous how she found wonder everywhere. She was still holding onto the bunny, shaking it occasionally, which made its head bobble and it surprised her into giggles every time. Emmrich let out a soft laugh at her antics, making her look up. She gave him that wide toothless smile and he was so full of joy at the sight that some of it escaped through his eyes.

“I think you might be right, darling,” Emmrich said, wiping at the tears, and Rook gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“You're such a sap,” Rook said, giving him that bright smile he so adored and yes, he was a sap. And he would never stop being one at this rate, since all his dreams of family just kept coming true lately and he hardly knew what to do with himself. He squeezed Rook's hand back and added a kiss to his temple for good measure.

They kept walking for a while, before they ended up on the riverbank, watching a family of ducks float about. They'd been there for quite some time, because Ellie protested every single time they tried to leave. The ducks were very interesting.

“Hey, Emmrich,” Rook suddenly whispered.

“Yes?” Emmrich, of course, whispered too.

“She's asleep. You did it!”

Emmrich looked at Ellie and she was indeed sleeping peacefully. She'd turned her face to rest a cheek against his chest and for a moment he was worried that he would wake her with the way his heart started thundering. She felt safe enough with him to fall asleep right there and how was he supposed to stay calm in the face of that? He turned back to Rook, who was watching them with a very pleased expression.

“See? You're gonna be a great dad,” he said, as if it was something mundane, as if his whole world hadn't been upturned by the presence of one little girl.

“Thank you, darling. I'm honored to be a father to her alongside you.”

[ll7esxs]

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

The first "I love you" in the relationship [requested]

characters: Logan walker, Hesh walker, Keegan russ, kick

notes: SFW content, kinda chessy for me since i love angst more than this shit but whatever man whatever this fandom wants

Logan walker:

yeah you are the first who is going to say it don't argue with me.

Logan struggles with words and would never rush into saying it.

tbh i think logan has never had partners in his life :(, he kept training not knowing anything about love.

sometimes i think hesh is the one who couraged him to date and elias too, telling him that he has been more than 30 years serving for this country and even though.

elias controlled and balanced the love and working with his mother.

It happens A late-night moment at home, when he’s quiet but seems lost in thought.

I think when you have been dating for months? like more than 8 months.

You’re curled up against Logan, watching, but he’s barely paying attention. His mind is elsewhere—probably thinking about a mission he can’t talk about.

You run your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. He sighs closing his eyes, leaning into your touch and getting out of the blurred world he was in.

"I love you, you know that?" you said lifting your head up to look at him.

Logan freezes,oh boy even his body tensing slightly against you, you can feel that already.

Logan’s eyes widen slightly, like he wasn’t expecting it—even though he’s felt it for a while.

He takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words but failing.

Instead of answering right away, he gently pulls you into his arms, holding you tighter than usual. After a short pause, he finally murmurs, “…I love you too.” which made you smile into his arm, you were proud of that to let this sweet boy speak of his feeling.

Later, he shows it rather than says it—staying close, kissing you, covering you in blanket when he thinks you're asleep, and making sure you’re always safe.

because words aren’t enough, but he hopes you can feel it.

Hesh walker:

he will say it first, But he blurts it out impulsively.

hesh is the one with partners but i see he had 3 or 2? and they weren't that serious they didn't reach that level with him.

but since he is a grown ass man (28) he found you

going out with him for classic dates.

It happenes in a playful moments while teasing each other.

in the kitchen, you kept arguing playfully talking back to him gahly! he thinks to himself how did i get with a woman like this.

"god you're impossible...I love you" he said with a soft shrug hands on his hips looking down smiling.

he said it without thinking, The moment he realizes what he just said, he freezes, eyebrows raising slightly like "Well… guess that’s out now."

and you had butterflies and bugs in your stomach like hello? did this handsome just tell me that??

"oh my god david?!" you said with a happy chuckle, heart already out of your chest "you just said this!!".

you wanted to step closer to him, He watches your reaction closely, trying to act all cool and confident but is secretly panicking inside.

you shaking your head while holding his face, which lead him to hold both your arms. "I love you too!"

his grin turns soft, and he pulls you in for a tight hug, whispering, "Good. ‘Cause I’m not going anywhere."

totally forgetting about the baking yall been making out. (wtf did i just type)

Keegan russ:

bro why is it so hard to write keegan, like this man is a hella mystery.

you are the one who said it sorry, cuz Keegan is way too guarded to say it first.

why i think he thought about his job first before you like he hates it if you are involved with someone like him, what if something danger happened to you because of him?he is way too cautious.

but because of those damn eyes of yours the weakest thing he will do is keeping you with him.

how did it happenes? late night walking, this man adores these times secretly especially after he has been with ya.

i think he ended up with a talk active partner? but no that much, he is just a listener and a talker sometimes.

you like it when he talks, his creative words and the sarcasm he is using making you say unbelievable about him.

He had insisted on walking you home—not out of obligation, but because it was simply in his nature.

When you reached your doorstep, you turned, your fingers curling around the doorknob. The soft glow of the porch light cast sharp shadows across his face, accentuating the sharp angles of his jaw, the glint of something unreadable in his eyes. (lord have mercy i got too much in details)

“Well, kid," his deep voice rumbled through the quiet, rough yet familiar, "guess I’ll see you around.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips, warmth flickering in your chest at the easy finality in his tone. He turned, hands tucked into his pockets, ready to disappear into the night like he always did. (bro is batman but he never tell you that)

“Keegan?” The name left your lips before you could think twice, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to make him stop.

His shoulders stiffened for the briefest moment before he turned back to you, his lightened gaze steady.

You didn’t wait any longer—you just walked up to him, arms wrapping around his neck. His eyes met yours, and God, it was so hard to be honest while looking into them. It seemed just as hard for him.

He was stunned, motionless, but his gaze remained stoic, unreadable.

“I love you,” you murmured, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He took a moment, then let out a stiff chuckle. “Must be the champain messing with your little head.”

“Shut up. I said it… I love you.” The second time, your voice was firmer. That’s when his eyes softened, a rare smile tugging at his lips—your first time seeing him like this. Gentle.

For a long time, he doesn’t speak. The silence stretches, heavy—almost unbearable.

Then, finally, he whispers—so quiet you almost miss it.

His fingers close over yours, grip tightening as if grounding himself in the moment.

He exhales, then presses a lingering kiss to your knuckles, the warmth of it seeping into your skin.

“…I love you too.”

Then he went to the shadows of the streets and after that time, you never see him again...

im joking bye.

Kick:

Kick is always aware—sharp, cautious, both in his military work and personal life. Nothing slips past him.

He never talks about his partner. He’s a ghost, a skillful one. Never caught, never seen unless he wants to be. Have you seen the kill list? He’s needed, and yet the feds can’t find him.

He doesn’t have trust issues, not exactly—but he’s careful. Always watching, always a step ahead. Especially when it comes to his relationships.

He even hesitated to date you, afraid you’d get hurt because of his work—afraid that if anything happened, he’d never forgive himself. Not even in death.

But he went for it anyway. Because he knew how to protect you. He kept you far from enemies, tracked every possible threat—all without you even knowing. He was secretive like that.

Man fuck the enemies he thought, he is in his 30s and we live one time why don't just have a partner in ur life?.

Not even the gang knew he had a partner. Only Merrick, who one day casually let it slip in front of him—like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

So he said it it just slips out casually not knowing the effect he will do on ya.

He said it during a random completely unromantic moment.

He doesn’t even realize what he said until your eyes widen. "Oh, damn. Did I just say that?"

You shrugged, still shocked. “Uhm… yeah, you did!” You shook your head, trying to process it.

He tried to play it off, acting like it was no big deal. “Well, yeah, of course I love you. Have you seen yourself?”

You couldn’t find the words. Your eyes softened as you looked at him, still stunned, heart pounding in your chest.

But when he saw you getting emotional, the act dropped. He smiled—small, genuine—and muttered, “Alright… yeah. I love you. For real.”

And later, he proved it. Small, silent acts of devotion—fixing things for you without being asked, making sure your coffee was just right, staying up just to watch you sleep peacefully.

[artsninspo]

COUNTERFEIT - two

⇽ part one

➨ rio's library - good girl nbc

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

🍒 pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Faith (Original Character) All my characters are black women.

🍒 word count: ~1.6K

🍒 summary: Faith faces the blowback from her decision to end things with her now ex-boyfriend. Conflict stirs between her and her sister. Rio's curiosity grows and he finds himself not able to stay away before getting to know about Faith.

🍒 two ~ life traps

“Where’d you go last night?” Char asks as she comes in from the gym.

“To have a one night stand” I respond being facetious.

“Faith, Jason is the kind of man women pray for” Char starts.

“I don’t want to hear it” I groan, needing some peace.

“Why not, he’s romantic, attentive, emotionally stable and makes good money?” Char continues.

“And he’s boring, closed minded and pacifistic” I add.

“Life isn’t all about excitement!” Char shouts.

“I think you’re mistaking life with death” I retorted, earning a grimace from my sister.

“He wanted to marry you!” She snaps. “He asked mom and she gave him her blessing, he was planning a party and everything! Your ring is gorgeous!” she says like it’s the thing that makes me stay but I couldn't be more relieved.

“If he knew me even a little he’d know I don’t want a public engagement” I respond.

Char huffs in exasperation “Anyone who’s in love does!”

“Well then, there you have it!” I sigh, reinforcing the obvious.

“Faith.” she fusses.

“He’s a great guy just not for me. Now he can return the ring and find someone who’s grateful and appreciative of the perfect man he is.” I fake a smile.

Char sighs, folding her arms in frustration. “You’re being unreasonable and taking the ungrateful thing out of context.”

“He’s not the man I want to wake up with forever or who I want to raise my children” I explain speaking in terms she can understand.

“Because you have commitment issues!” She snaps.

“You don’t? Where’s your Prince Charming?” I ask and she goes ridgid. Her eyes bug out and I realize I’ve gone too far.

“Char” I call but she storms off to her room.

———

Char hasn’t been speaking to me all week. She’s hardly been coming home. I feel bad but there’s not much I can do if she won’t talk to me.

Big game? I could use some back up.

- D

I smile at the phone and D’s perfect timing. I get dressed and go where I’m wanted. I drive to the bar and park out back. I can hear from out here the place is packed and head in. D doesn’t look as happy and he usually is to see me. I hug and kiss him and he makes me my favorite drink with a smile. I get started and make things easier for him. I work the bar until there’s a lull and I can enjoy my cherries. Diego smiles at me.

“I’m glad you texted, Char and I are fighting and it’s all bad at my place”  I tell him.

“What about?” D, asks.

“Breaking things off with Jason” I explain and his cousin walks in. “Am I okay to be here?” I whisper, putting my cup of cherries down.

“Yeah,” Diego nods. His side of the bar fills up and he steps away to tend them. His cousin sits on my side. I head over to him.

“Whisky neat” he says before I can ask. I head to the top shelf pouring him what he asked for. I place it down on top of a napkin and I’m shocked when he pays. Doesn’t he own the place?

“Thanks” I smile, putting the money away. I work my side of the bar finding time passes and the game ends, music replaces the previous entertainment. When things settle I go back to D and my cherries. We joke around with some of the patrons doing shots and keeping them in their pockets. There are no fights tonight which is a win and when the night’s over I’ve made twice as much in tips as I did the other day. I’m cleaning off the bar when Diego’s cousin comes in from outside.

I continue cleaning up and Diego mops this time. Security takes all the dirty glasses to be washed and I make sure the register balances. We have at least fifteen empty bottles and I pack them away making space on the shelf.

“Where else do you work?” He asks from behind me.

“I’m not a bartender,” I respond.

“You know your way around a bar.” Diego’s cousin remarks.

“Diego taught me” I explain and he smiles nodding. His dark eyes miss nothing, it’s like he can smell my uncertainty and is amused by it.

“So what are you?” He asks again.

“I work in interior designing,” I explain, omitting my shinier accolades.

“Pays well?” He asks. It's a strange question. If he were anyone else I'd roll my eyes and walk away. One thing my Ma is right about is that a woman's pocketbook is none of mens business unless he’s adding to it.

“I’m not complaining,” I respond. The answer doesn't seem sufficient as he looks down trying to read me. We both give each other nothing. “You into nature?” I ask stacking glasses and his brow raises. I’ve thrown him off.

“Nature? Outdoors?” He asks and I steel my expression in genuine curiosity as I motion to his neck where the bird is permanently inked into his skin. He looks affronted, so much so my facade breaks. A smirk plays on his lips and he nods.

“I was just messing with you. D’s my friend, he loves this place and I’m here to help him out - not cause trouble” I tell him and he looks me over again - his energy less distant.

“You’re a woman, this is a guys bar and I’m a businessman. Women mean trouble. More security, more fights and more egos. It’s not personal, don't help him every weekend and don’t use your real name. You getting stalked or followed isn’t my problem and D’s not built for it. He’s crazy about you. Told me I need to apologize for the other day” he says completely relaxed. His expression is back to giving nothing away as he speaks matter of factly. 

“Gotcha, and It’s fine, you don’t seem like you apologize much” I tell him and he nods, holding back another smile.

“Is everything alright?” Diego asks with an uneasiness that makes me reconsider the ease I feel next to his cousin.

“You don’t bring women around often, I’m just curious” his cousin says and I sense tension between them. 

“I’ll do the rest Faith, let me walk you to your car” he says protectively and I look between them a moment before getting my jacket.

“Thanks” I tell Diego who is standing ramrod straight and tense, in juxtaposition to his cousin who looks both relaxed and amused. He empties my tips into a paper bag.

“Goodbye Faith” his cousin waves.

“Bye,” I respond.

“What’s wrong?” I ask Diego once we’re outside.

“Rio” he sighs. “I wish I could just strangle him sometimes,” he snaps.

“Rio is your cousin’s name?” I ask and he nods.

“Nickname, his name is Chris but don't call him that.” D warns.

“What's going on between the two of you, does he think you're into me or something and how does he own the bar? I thought it was yours?” I ask and D takes a deep breath before letting one out.

“He doesn’t think I'm into you, he knows I’m gay. He’s part owner, not full owner although he thinks he’s the boss of everything ” D sighs.

“I’ve never known you to huff and puff instead of knocking someone clean out” I comment looking outside as Rio strolls cooly into a G-Wagon.

“Rio doesnt get mad, he gets even, he can be spiteful and petty and he’s patient. You’ll never know you’ve fucked up until you’re wading through shit. Be polite and keep things short with him” Diego says, giving his cousin a less than glowing review.

It leaves a bad taste in my mouth as the G-Wagon pulls out driving into the night. D follows suit and silence befalls the car until he presses me for information on Char and I. When I tell him the full extent of everything the look in his eyes tells me while he’s on my side. Diego agrees with my sister in regard to my commitment issues. Unlike Char, D understands why I don't want to run from where we came from. Why I’m in no rush to commit to a life of pageantry or rush into an engagement at 24. He calls it survivor's remorse which is kinder than the assessments given to me by my shrinks. A life with Jason would be a lie. I’d have to pretend my step-dad is my father. Not my real father who’s no longer on this earth. The result of a life selling street pharma and the violence that comes with it. I’d have to hide that part of my story and heritage and even do away with D as a part of my past. Jason and his family would see it as a character defect instead of character building. It would be bad PR and so it would be filed away in a safe and kept away for comfort and convenience. No one understands not wanting to hide yourself from people like D.

He watches me sitting shotgun as the sun dawns.

“Be gentle with Char, she's a marshmallow - all soft. You’re a jellybean.” He smiles and I lean on his shoulder. He presses a kiss onto my forehead. “You know ChaCha means no harm, she doesn't like to rock the boat or disappoint anyone.” Diego speaks knowing us well.

“I was gentle, we didn't have a screaming match” I smile but his phone ringing gets my attention. Rio’s name flashes on the car’s console shifting the mood.

“I gotta take this, text me when you get in” D says and I nod.

“D, if you need money-”

“I don't, I'm the oldest. You need money you come to me” he asserts and I nod exiting the car. I hear the call pick up when I grab the lobby door. I place my fob on the console and the automatic door opens.

Mercury must be in gatorade because I don’t know what the fuck is going on.

authors note: thanks for reading, what do we think D's deal is with Rio and the girls? Why is Rio in our girls business? don't forget to ❣ Like, ❝ Comment, ↺ Reblog & vote on open polls

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[juvinadelgreko]

adding to this as a Late To The Party queer person who also just reread TRC:

i second everything in this post. it took me nearly 2 decades to realize i wasn’t into men. looking back on my life, i attribute this largely to the fact that i was way too busy being a Gifted Kid ™️ who also played elite sports and barely had time to eat, let alone consider my own identity.

those things were always true about me: i just didn’t see them for what they were until i actually had time for myself, got out into the world and had experiences that showed me those things.

i was into women the entire time. but until i actually met another queer woman, it never occurred to me that there was any explanation for what i felt beyond “this girl is my friend. that’s why i like her so much.”

i was never into men. but until i actually tried to kiss one and hated it it never occurred to me that there might’ve been an explanation for my lack of interest in them besides “i’m very busy playing elite junior sports and carrying a full ap course load.”

so it doesn’t at all surprise me that in the midst of working 3 jobs, dealing with abusive father, striking a bargain with a magical sentient forest, hunting for a dead welsh king, AND going to school, adam parrish didn’t exactly have a minute to consider that maybe he liked ronan’s attention for other reasons.

adam tells us straight up that he enjoys ronan’s crush because it makes him feel worthy of admiration—and he’d never felt admired that way before. that’s a far more plausible explanation than “i am also queer.” and while it probably does account for some of his feelings, adam Does Not Have The Time to look at it any closer. he’s literally being possessed while he tries to finish his senior year of high school!

then ronan kisses him, and he likes it???? what?? i think many queer people have this moment, where we can pinpoint the exact moment that we realized we’d been in denial the whole time, or just hadn’t been able to see the whole truth. because before an actual kiss, there were reasonably plausible heterosexual explanations for everything we’d felt prior. it’s not until something happens for which there is no heterosexual explanation that we start to go hm. perhaps i missing something.

this happened to alex in rwrb. he could easily explain away his obsession with henry by telling himself and everyone else that he hated henry because he was snobby and british and had been annoying to him one time. why would alex look any closer at this scenario? his mother, the POTUS, is fighting for re-election against a very conservative candidate. she doesn’t need her son to be queer. then henry kisses him, he likes it, and there is no heterosexual explanation for that.

and of course, as we said, with adam. he was able to explain away enjoying ronan’s crush, had no desire to examine his feelings any further because of Life ™️, and then suddenly he’s making out with ronan and he likes it and oh wait there’s no heterosexual explanation for this!

so yeah. it makes a lot of sense. queer people under a great deal of outside pressure usually take a minute to realize they’re queer. something has to happen to trip the wires. it’s kind of sad but very true. re-reading trc, i’m actually really impressed with how maggie wrote adam and ronan’s arc. it’s very much authentic to what a lot of us experience.

there’s a very clear contrast between queer people who grew up in pressure cookers and queer people who grew up affirmed and supported like ronan did. whether he ever came out to his parents or not, ronan was always told he was loved and powerful. so facing his own queerness would’ve been a much easier pill for him to swallow than adam. i imagine he saw declan start flirting with girls, thought “girls? really? ew. no.” and that was that. ronan was gay, there was nothing that could be done to change that, so fuck you if you didn’t like it. but when niall dies and he loses his support system and he has to figure out his powers on his own, dating promptly goes to the bottom of his priority list. that is, until adam. until he has the gangsey as a support system.

TL;DR, it’s very hard to live an authentic an authentic life if all your energy is going towards survival. no shit adam parrish is unknowable. he doesn’t have time to learn.

I’ve been musing on adam’s sexuality and I know some folks feel like he’s been bi the whole time but having just done a deep pynch-focused dive through the books, I actually think adam hadn’t realized that he was into ronan Like That until they kissed. like he obviously knew ronan was into him (and actually, knew ronan was gay since like, the beginning of trb probably), but he had sort of convinced himself that the reason he enjoyed it was vanity/attention. and right before and after the kiss we get the line “adam didn’t understand anything” which feels to me like he hadn’t even comprehended this was a thing he wanted until he was doing it.

and that’s actually a very common queer experience, especially for folks who are interested in multiple genders, especially when they’re young.

so adam, despite wanting to know everything and being the perceptive one, has these increasingly big moments of “I feel like I’m missing some data here” but the data he needed was the actual experience of kissing ronan/making the conscious decision to kiss ronan again and THEN he has his eureka moment. And he can look back at the moments where he found his Latin teacher hot, or when he put a picture of an attractive man in his glove box and realize he was bi the whole time.

[xspeter]

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

˚✧˚. summary: your brother goes missing, Tommy H gets what he deserves, and Mike Wheeler drags you into something downright strange

wc: 6.1k

m.list

notes: hi!!! this is the first chapter of my own rewrite :). i’ve always loved reading stories where you actually go on the adventures with the characters, so i figured why not do it myself? as i’m sure all of you know, im not the best at keeping up with my own stories… so please bare with me!

Your job at Karma Records isn’t very hard, especially since your job just consists of stacking and organizing records and that’s pretty much it. You glance at the clock on the wall, and you sighed as you realized it was already 10:30. The store closed thirty minutes ago, but you stopped getting any customers before the sun had even fully set.

You usually made it a rule not to work late, especially on nights where Will would be home alone. Tonight though was one of the rare nights where Jonathon would be home before you, so you figured there wasn’t any harm in picking up a few extra hours. Especially since you knew your mom could use the extra help. Even though she thought she was good at hiding your financial struggles, you and Jonathon had always known.

“Hey, you ready to lock up?” Your friend, Conner, asks you, his glasses nearly falling off of his nose as he leans against the front counter to look at you. You nod, stretching your arms over your head, your eyes squeeze shut and you let out a relieved moan when your arms slap back down to your thighs. Conner gives you a thumbs up, his blonde hair falling over his eyes a bit as he stands to his full height. Conner is tall, that much is obvious, he has been ever since you were kids and you’d met at the softball field.

“I’ve just gotta finish sweeping up the backroom, but you can go ahead and go.” He says, already beginning to walk away from you.

Your eyebrows furrow as you shrug your jacket on, “Are you sure? I really don’t mind helping you.”

Conner nods, “Yeah, I know, but Will and Jonathon are waiting for you, and you want to get home before your mom right?” He says the last part teasingly, knowing it was technically against your moms rules for you to work late.

You roll your eyes, “Whatever, it’s not like Will is home alone, Jon is there! And, I mean, seriously, I feel bad leaving you here alone, Conny.”

Conner just shakes his head, walking over to you and practically pushing you out the door. “Go home!” He insists. You can’t help but giggle at his antics, finally agreeing.

You sigh as you walk out of the store. You wrap your jacket tighter around yourself as you make the short trek to your car. November in Indiana wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t snowy like it usually was in January, it was more an uncomfortable dry cold. The kind of cold that almost hurt your lungs if you breathed in too hard.

As you walked to your car, you couldn't help but feel almost uncomfortable. You were on one of the main streets in Hawkins, surrounded by stores and streetlights, but you couldn’t help the feeling that you weren’t alone. You glanced behind you, thinking maybe Conner was watching you through the store's glass doors, but he’s not there. Still, the feeling persists.

You swallow, grateful as you finally reach your red ford. The car had been a hand-me down from your dad, the first and only nice thing he’d ever given you. You assumed it was to make up for all of the bullshit he put your family through, but it was going to take more than a car to make you forgive him.

The feeling still lingered even as you pulled out of the parking lot, and you couldn’t help but wonder if something very bad was going to happen.

-

Your twin brother had always been an expert on breakfast foods. You wondered if it was because he’d had to learn considering your lack in cooking skills, or if it was because your mom always burnt pancakes and her eggs were always a bit too watery. Either way, you can’t help the way you inhale the smell of the eggs he’s making, sipping on your coffee at the dining table.

You can hear your mom frantically getting ready, more than likely looking for her keys, which you could see on the table in front of you. “Jonathon, Y/N! Have you seen my keys?” She cries as she suddenly bursts into the kitchen, her eyebrows furrowed.

Jonathon sighs as he continues making breakfast, “Check the couch!” He says, but she just groans. “I already did!” She insists.

You grab the keys off the table, placing your mug down as you walk over to where she’s searching between the cushions. “They’re right here, Mom.”You say, holding them out to her like a prize.

“Oh,” She says relieved, “Thank you, Sweet girl.”

You just hum, going back to where you were sitting at the table. “Are you almost done, Jon?” You ask impatiently, barely able to ignore the grumbling in your stomach. Jonathon just rolls his eyes, “I would be if you’d quit nagging me.” He says, though you know he’s just teasing you.

“Okay, I’m leaving for work,” Your Mom says, leaving a kiss on your head and heading for Jonathon, but she stops in her tracks when she notices the empty chair at the dining table. “Where’s Will?”

You wince, realizing you’d been so focused on your hunger you’d completely forgotten to get him up. “I haven’t gotten him up yet.”

Her head falls back in a groan, “You have to make sure he’s up!” She says, beginning to practically speed walk towards your younger brother's room. You sigh, and you can’t help but feel a bit guilty at making her day harder. “I’ve told you this a thousand times.”

You share a look with Jonathon, when you were Will’s age you were both getting yourselves up, and sometimes you thought maybe it was time Will did the same. “Sorry, mom!” You call down into the hallway, though you doubt she even processes what you said in her hurry.

You grin as you hear the toaster pop, and Jonathon silently places your plate in front of you. You go to immediately dig in, a hum leaving your lips. Your family had always called you a human garbage disposal, because you loved to eat. It was pretty much your love language.

Your mom came back into the room anxiously, a strange look on her face. You’d seen her look worried before, but this felt different. “Will came home last night, right?”

You looked to Jonathon for confirmation, who looked to you. “I- I don’t know, Y/N was home before me last night.” He says. You immediately shook your head, eyes widening a bit. “What? No, I wasn’t. I worked late last night. I thought you got off at eight?”

Jonathon swallowed, “Eric asked me to cover for him last night, and I figured we could use the extra money.”

You can’t help the way your heart drops at the realization that neither you or Jonathon had been home last night. But, surely he had just stayed the night with Mike. This was Hawkins, nothing bad ever happens in Hawkins.

Your mom rubs the bridge of her nose exasperatedly, her eyes squeezing shut. “Guys, we’ve talked about this. You can’t- can’t take shifts when I’m working!”

You swallow, “I’m sorry Mom, I just- it was just a misunderstanding.” Jonathon nods in agreement, leaning against the chair next to you. “He was at the Wheelers all day. I'm sure he just stayed the night.” You feel a bit relieved that Jonathon points this out, because where else would he be?

“I can’t believe you guys,” She mutters, walking towards the phone. “Unbelievable.” You sigh, knowing it was better to let her be angry then try and argue with her, especially when she was right.

You pick at your fingernails anxiously as she calls The Wheelers, that awful feeling from last night creeping back into your stomach, creating an endless pit. It wasn’t uncommon for Will to stay the night at his friends' houses on school nights, but he always made sure it was okay at least a week in advance. He was cautious like that, it was something you loved about him. How careful he was.

That’s why your heart skips a beat when she hangs up the phone, and she doesn’t look any bit relieved.

You and Jonathon spend the entire morning in silence, the both of you entirely too anxious to attempt any kind of small talk. Your mom had called and informed you that Will was not at school or at the arcade or at any of his friends or even at that diner he strangely loves so much. She’d said she was going to file a missing persons report, which still felt entirely impossible.

There was no way Will was actually missing. He was at Mikes all day yesterday! It’s only a ten minute bike from The Wheelers to your house, and Will is cautious. He is careful and he is safe and he knows better than to stray off the route you’d shown him years ago. It seemed entirely impossible that anything could’ve happened in that ten minutes.

You glance to where Jonathon sits next to you on the couch, his expression blank. You swallow, blinking a few times. “He’s fine, right?” You murmur, the first words spoken between the two of you in over an hour. “He just got lost in the woods. We- We’ll find him by tonight, right?” Your eyes begin to fill with an onset of tears, the first of the day.

Jonathon doesn’t say anything, he barely even spares you a glance, and you can’t say you don’t expect it. This is what had happened when your dad had left, he’d gone entirely mute for hours. At the time you’d been annoyed by it, you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he wouldn’t say a word, not even when you begged him to talk to you. Will had been so young at the time, he didn’t even really understand what was going on. You’re partially grateful for that, you’d rather he grew up without ever remembering what it was like with your father than to have to experience living with him.

Before you can stop it, tears begin to roll down your cheeks, hot and heavy and all too familiar. You can feel your hands shaking from where they sit on your lap, your vision becoming blurred and lower lip wobbling uncontrollably.

This wasn’t real, there wasn’t any way. There has to be a rational explanation for this. This was Hawkins for crying out loud! What’re the chances that the one awful thing to happen in this town happens to your family? Your happy, loving family?

A warm embrace of your shaking hands pulls you from your thoughts, and that’s when you notice that Jonathon is crying too. He isn’t saying anything, and he still isn’t looking at you, but he’s holding your hand. You tighten your fingers around his, place your head on his shoulder, and weep.

For now, this was enough.

-

“Will!”

Your voice is most definitely hoarse by the third hour of you doing this, screaming for your baby brother to no avail. Will hasn’t responded once, and you’re no closer to finding him than you were three hours ago.

Your mom had returned home with… the report. You couldn’t bring yourself to say what it really was anymore, especially not after seeing it in person. It just made it feel too real, and some part of you still believed this was some awful nightmare.

Deep in the woods, you could hear your mom and brother screaming for him, their voices hoarse just like yours. This part of the woods wasn’t new or unfamiliar to you, in fact you knew it like the back of your hand. Castle Byers stood tall and proud in the tiniest clearing, made of wood and covered by a blue tarp. You remember helping Will and Jonathon build it, or, more like you and Jonathon built it and Will just watched in astonishment.

The castle had been almost like you and your twin's passion project after your Dad had left, like a saving grace amidst the chaos that your lives had become. You both acted like it was to help Will, to distract him, but really it was to distract you.

It had worked too, because by the time it was finished the dad-shaped hole in your chest had healed into a dad-shaped scar.

Now, as you flung the makeshift door open, the Castle felt cold and empty. A reminder of what was gone, and a lingering question of if and when it was coming back.

You sighed, some part of you’d been expecting Will to be in there, hiding from the rest of the world to finish some amazing drawing that he’d gotten the idea for.

“Not there, huh?”

Jonathon’s voice behind you nearly sends you flying out of your skin, and you have to place a hand over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heart. “Jesus, Jon!”

He gives what seems to be the making of a smile, though it doesn’t quite extend past his cheeks. “Sorry.”

You shake your head, “It’s fine. I’m just… a little on edge, I guess.”

He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. The both of you stare at the structure, neither of you quite knowing what to say as memories flow through the both of you.

“Do you- do you remember the first day we worked on this? When Will insisted on helping me cut the wood?” Jonathon asks you, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

A small grimace forms on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself, “How could I forget?”

Six years ago, when you’d built this, Will had insisted on helping Jonathon cut the wood. He was only five years old at the time, but Jonathon had thought as long as he was there to help him it’d be okay. Which, by the way, you would’ve told him was a horrible idea if you’d known he was doing it. You’d been helping your mom make sandwiches for the four of you, when an awful, blood-curdling scream punctured through the four walls of your house.

You and your mom had gone running to find Jonathon bent over and Will sobbing over him, axe in hand. “I’m sorry, Jonny! I’m sorry!”

Will had accidently sent the axe right onto Jonathon’s leg, leaving a massive cut right below his knee. It was gaping and oozing blood so red it was nearly black. The whole ordeal had been terrifying at the time, and ten-year-old you had thought for sure Jonathon would die.

He didn’t obviously, he just needed tons of stitches and ended up with a badass scar. Will never did forgive himself for it though. To this day, he still apologizes to Jonathan for it, though he can barely even remember it happening. You think that’s what makes Will so different from all of you, he is so… so compassionate. So empathetic and more in-tune to his emotions then any other eleven year old on the planet. Jonathon had always told him to stop apologizing, that it was more his fault than anything, but Will never stopped.

Jonathon sniffles from beside you, though you can’t tell if it’s because of the cold wind or the tears in his eyes. “God, I’d kill to hear him apologize one more time.”

You sigh shakily, “I would too.” You insist, eyes filling with tears for the upteenth time today. You wonder to yourself if there would be a point where the tears just stop coming, if Will is going to be gone long enough for that to happen.

You silently pray to God that that doesn’t happen.

By the time 3 o’clock rolls around there’s only one person that you desperately need to talk to, that you know can make you feel better, and that’s Conner.

You’d returned home from your search half an hour ago, the whole thing leading you nowhere closer to finding your brother. You knew it wasn’t… pointless. That it would help you find him, but still, you couldn’t help but worry that you were searching for nothing. That he would never show up.

You needed to talk to Conner.

You dialed his number easily, the digits practically muscle memory at this point. Really, he was the only person outside of your family that you called. You weren’t particularly popular at school, and it’s not like you wanted to be! You were happy with it just being you and Conner. You swallowed as the phone rang, letting yourself lean against the wall as you twisted the phone cord around your free hand.

You frowned when you got his answering machine, though you assumed he must’ve gone straight to work from school. You’d already called off for the day, just like Jonathon and your Mom had. Though, your Mom had called off for the next two weeks.

When Conner doesn’t answer, you sigh, placing the phone back on the wall. Jonathon had shut himself in his room as soon as you got home, and your Mom had driven herself straight back to the police station to hound Hopper again. Leaving you, alone.

You never quite took loneliness well. Jonathon thrived when he was by himself, he found comfort in the silence, whereas you did not. You supposed that was the main difference between the two of you. Yes, you were twins, but really you didn’t think you and Jonathon had many traits in common. Or maybe you did, and you just couldn’t see it.

Either way, you needed to get out. You couldn’t sit here by yourself or you were positive you’d go crazy. Without really thinking, you threw on your shoes and your jacket, letting yourself out through the front door. You practically beelined for your car, the rusty red ford already bringing the slightest bit of comforting warmth to your chest.

You’d always been a bit attached to your car. Driving was comforting for you, and helped you clear your head. You’d always preferred road trips to traveling by plane, though your family could hardly ever afford a plane ticket. You’d always been secretly grateful for that fact.

The car shudders a bit as you force it on, the start of “Gypsy” by Fleetwood Mac blasting into the air. You quickly shut it off, the cassette popping out of the dash. You don’t even bother putting it back in its rightful case, instead choosing to throw it onto the passenger seat as you search through your cassettes for the song.

You had a routine when you were upset. Get in your car, play the song, and just drive. You never had a destination, just an agenda.

You let out a relieved sigh when you find it, quickly pushing it into the car and listening as the beginning notes of David Bowie's “Heroes” blast through your speakers. The speakers crackle and pop as you force it louder, but you don’t care. You just put the car in drive and go.

-

An hour later, you’re parked at a gas station, filling up your car before you head back home. You’d driven around the entire city of Hawkins twice, which wasn’t very hard to do considering its size, and you listened to the song the entire time.

Your eyes are puffy from crying all day, and a cigarette that you’d stolen from your mom months ago hangs lit between your lips. When you’d taken it, you figured you’d save it for the right time. No better time than the present, right?

It burns your throat and chest as you suck in its toxic chemicals, your free arm is wrapped around your middle while the other takes the cigarette out of your mouth and holds it between your pointer and middle finger.

You were sure there was some kind of danger in filling up your car while you smoke, but you’d seen countless people do it before and nothing happened to them. You tap your foot impatiently against the pavement, watching as the fuel gauge fills ever so slowly.

After what feels like forever, you hear the gas finally pop, signaling to you that it’s done its job and you can finally leave. As you stick it back into the gas pump, the sound of awfully loud music and screeching tires distracts you.

You look up to see Steve Harrington’s fancy BMW zoom into the parking lot, driving into the parking spot behind you and blowing so much wind past you that your hair practically flies all over the place. Your eyes instantly narrow as you turn around to glare at him. To no one’s surprise, he’s not by himself. His idiotic, minion friends Tommy H and Carol are in the car, the both of them laughing their asses off at whatever it is Steve has said.

Steve Harrington was… a prick, to put it lightly. You weren’t the guy's biggest fan, and you never had been. Now that he was dating Nancy Wheeler though? You most definitely can’t stand him.

You and Nancy had never really been friends, but there’d been a time where you were acquaintances, back when you both dressed up for your brother's DnD games and played along. Though now she’d grown out of it and you still played a long if they asked you nice enough.

You understood it, obviously. You were getting older, and she’d crossed the threshold from playing with her brother to being a normal teenage girl. You, it would seem, still had not, and Steve Harrington’s friends went out of their way to make sure you knew it.

Carol is the first to spot you glaring at them, and the sickening smirk that grows on her face is enough to make your movements quicken. You really weren’t in the mood to deal with them today.

You drop your cigarette, squashing it with your foot. The damn thing hadn’t done anything for you anyway, if anything you were just more stressed.

You quickly hop back into your car, turning the key and sighing as it revs back on. You reach for the door handle to slam it shut, but you’re stopped as a hand grabs the door, preventing you from leaving.

You swallow uncomfortably, sighing as you force yourself to look up. You're met with Tommy H’s smiling face, and you can’t help but feel sick at the smell of alcohol already in his breath. Schools been out for.. what? An hour and a half? How was the bastard already drunk?

“We missed you at school today.” He drawls. You can see Carol smiling through the rear view mirror, a freshly lit cigarette between her fingers. Steve is nowhere to be found, and you assume he’s gonna inside to buy whatever it is they came here for,

“Get off of my car, Tommy.” You say neutrally. If there was one thing you’d learned from being relentlessly bullied by these two, it was to not show any sort of distress.

Tommy leans closer to you, though his hand never leaves your car, instead trailing from the door to the hood, his fingers hanging carelessly over the opening from where your door closes. “Why would I do that when I’m just trying to have a decent conversation with you?”

You can’t help the way your face contorts in disgust. “Look, I’ve had a shit day, Tommy-”

“I know, I heard about your brother.”

Your breath hitches in your throat at that. It would seem there really were no secrets in a small town. Though, you’re shocked he found out about it so quickly. You don’t say anything. What can you say anyway? Oh, yeah, that really sucks! See you at school tomorrow? No.

“Yeah, me and Carol or real sorry about that, by the way.” Naively, you wonder if he’s being legit. Tommy H and Carol were awful, obviously, but sometimes you wondered if he wasn’t really that awful. You peek up at him at your own volition, a curious glint in your eye. “Really?”

Tommy snickers, “Of course! I mean, I'd be real depressed if my twin killed my younger brother too!”

You can hear Carol laughing, that awful, snotty laugh that she does when she wants Tommy to feel validated in whatever crap he’s pulling. “Hey, isn’t that called having an evil twin?” Tommy continues his attempts at getting under your skin, but you’re not focused on him anymore. You see Steve walk out of the gas station with a six pack, a confused look in his eye. You think that’s what pisses you off the most. It’s not Tommy’s comment or Carol's laugh, it’s Steve. It’s the fact that he knows what kind of awful people they are, and yet still chooses to be their friend. It makes you see red.

Before you even realize what you're doing, you quickly snatch the car door handle, and slam it shut on Tommy’s fingers. He howls in pain, his eyes going wide as his other hand reaches for the outside handle. You let him open the door, though he doesn’t even care for anything other than his bright red fingers anymore.

You smirk as he cradles them with his other hand, pained grunts still falling from his mouth. You can hear Carol calling for him, and Steve just stands in the middle of the parking lot stupidly, staring back at you through the rearview mirror. You can tell that he has no clue of what just happened, but he’s curious.

You don’t say anything as you slam the door back shut, not even bothering to put on your seatbelt as you speed out of the parking lot.

-

“Where the hell were you?”

It’s not the greeting you’re expecting when you finally get home, though you guess you should’ve considering you just left without even leaving a note.

You swallow, shutting the door behind you slowly. “I just needed to clear my head.” You defend softly.

Your mom scoffs, shaking her head wildly. The bags under her eyes are already much more prominent, and her hair is fraying in places it usually doesn’t. “So- So you just left? With everything going on, you just left without even telling anyone you were leaving?”

You played with your fingers uncomfortably, you knew she was right, but you hadn’t really been thinking properly at the time. It’s the whole reason you left in the first place! “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She just sighs, falling into the couch next to Jonathon. “You- You can’t do that, okay? Especially not right now. I- I can’t. Will’s already gone, if I lost one of you…” She trails off, eyes welling up with tears. It breaks your heart to see your Mother so vulnerable and open. When your dad left, she put on a strong face for the three of you. Never let you see her cry, never let you see her break, so that she could take care of you. Now, it was your turn to take care of her.

You sit into the couch next to her, so that now you and Jonathon are practically sandwiching her between the cushions. “You’re not going to lose us, Mom.” Jonathon murmurs. You agree with him, wrapping your arms around the brown haired woman. Jonathon does the same, and the three of you sit there for who knows how long, just embracing.

That is until Jonathon interrupts it. “Cops.”

You follow the both of them outside, where Chief Jim Hopper and two of his officer buddies are waiting with Will’s bike.

You’d gotten him that Bike for Christmas, it’d taken you months to save up for it. When you gave it to Will, he was so ecstatic he said he’d protect it with his life, and now a voice in the back of your head told you that he had.

“We found it lying over by Shirley.” He says as places the bike onto the porch and allows himself and the other officers inside your home. “It was just lying there?” You mom says in disbelief, sharing a glance with you.

“Yeah. Cal?” Hopper says, signaling to the other officer to do something that you’re not too sure of.

“Will wouldn’t do that.” You defend, “He- He loved that bike.”

Hopper glances at you, continuing his march through the halls “I’m sure he did, Kid.”

“Did it have any blood on it, or-”

“No, no, no, no…Phil?” Hopper murmurs. You can’t stand the way he’s looking through your house like it’s some sort of crime scene, even though you know deep down that it is.

Your childhood home was a crime scene now.

You can tell that Jonathon is growing restless at the amount of one word answers Hopper is giving, because you are too. “If you found the bike out there, then what are you doing here?” He asks, only slightly impatient.

“Well, he had a key to the house, right?” Hopper asks, not even sparing any of you a glance. To be honest, it was pissing you off.

“Yeah.” Jonathon answers.

“So…” He mutters, looking through your kitchen like a fruit fly looking for a rotten apple, “Maybe he came home.”

Your mom immediately scoffs, the idea impossible to her. “What- You think I didn’t check my own house?”

Hopper shakes his head, walking over to the wall next to the door. “I’m not saying that. This always been there?” His fingers glaze over a hole in the wall, right where the door handle would smash into it if opened hard enough.

Your mom sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose impatiently. “I don’t know! I’ve got three kids, two of which are boys. Look at this place.”

Hopper doesn’t say anything, instead swinging the door back and forth as if testing his theory. “You’re not sure?”

The attention is dragged away when Chester starts barking outside, and Hopper goes out there without a word. Your mom follows, though you and Jonathon choose to stay inside.

“I hate that they’re treating this place like a crime scene.” You say softly.

Jonathon swallows, “Well, it is now, isn’t it?”

You're silent for a moment, picking at the skin around your finger nails uncomfortably. “Yeah.” You murmur, “I guess it is.”

-

By the time the sun sets you’ve tried to call Conner a million different times to no avail. His parents aren’t answering either, which worries you even more. With everything that’s going on with Will, you could really use your best friend.

There was going to be a search party for Will tonight, the first of what you desperately hoped wasn’t many. Your family wasn’t going, mostly because Hopper told you not to. He’d said it was best for you to stay home the first few nights, they had enough volunteers and they’d call you as soon as they found anything.

You were practically itching to go though. You wanted to be out there looking for him. What if Hopper scared him and he got even more lost? He wasn’t ever any good around new people.

Your thoughts are interrupted by your mom knocking on your bedroom door, and you let her know it’s okay to come in with a hum. She creaks the door open just wide enough for her to fit through it. “Hey.” She says softly.

You give her a small smile, “Hi.”

She sniffles, leaning against the doorframe. “Me and Jonathon are getting some pictures for the-” She sucks in a breath, the words getting stuck in her throat. “The poster?” You finish for her.

She nods, “The poster.”

Wordlessly, you follow her into the living room where a shoebox full of pictures sits opened on the coffee table, some photos already splayed around the wood. You sit down next to Jonathon on the couch, your eyes scanning over each and every family photo. Lots of them are taken by Jonathon, his love for photography never changing throughout the years.

You snort when you spot a picture of you and Jonathon from before Will was even born. You’re both barely over the age of three, the only thing either of you were wearing being a pampers diaper. You were still practically bald, your hair so thin it looked more like wires than anything else. Jonathon on the other hand, had the thickest head of hair you’d ever seen on a baby!

“You look like the girl in this photo!” You point out with a small laugh, and Jonathon just lets out a puff of air, the closest thing you think you’ll get to a laugh from him.

Your mom sniffles from where she sits beside Jonathon, silently looking through the photos, her eyes subconsciously lingering on the ones of Will.

“I- I know I haven’t been there for the two of you lately.” She says suddenly. Your breath catches in your throat and you shake your head. “No, Mom, c’mon..” You insist.

“I’ve just been working so hard and…” A soft sob escapes her throat, “I just feel bad I don’t even know what’s going on with you guys.” She does her best attempt at a laugh after, though it comes out weak and uncomfortable.

Jonathon seems to be going mute again, and you can’t help the way your eyes build up with tears. She rubs Jonathon’s thigh comfortingly, “What is it, Honey?” She says softly, doing her best to coax a few words out of him.

“Nothing.” He manages, though it comes out coarse, as if he’s holding back tears.

“Come on, tell me.” She insists. Finally, Jonathon breaks. “It’s just… I should’ve been there for him.” He admits, and you feel your heart break in two.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been having thoughts like that. Thoughts of what if. What if you hadn’t taken that later shift? What if you had double checked with Jonathon? Would Will be home safe, like he was supposed to?

“Jonathon, don’t do that to yourself.” You say softly, tears falling from your own eyes.

“This was not your fault,” Your mom reassures, her other hand coming to rest on your cheek. “Either of you, okay? It wasn't your faults.”

She sucks in a shaky breath, “Will is… is close, I can feel it, in my heart.” She says, her voice wavering slightly though you know she means what she says. It comforts you slightly, knowing that your mom believed so wholly.

She smiles, picking one of the pictures of Will scattered on the coffee place. It’s his sixth grade school photo. He’s smiling, and he’s wearing the outfit you and Jonathon helped him pick out because he insisted on looking just perfect.

“This is the one, right?” She says, and you and Jonathon both nod. “Yeah, it’s his favorite picture.” You say, your voice cracking slightly,

Your mom laughs, staring fondly at the photo, until the phone rings. She drops it back in the coffee table and runs over to it. Your heart practically stops beating, hoping, but also slightly dreading, to hear some news about Will.

“H-Hello?” She says into the phone, her eyebrows creasing in confusion. “Hello? L-Lonnie?” You and Jonathan both share a glance, “Dad?”

You get up from your spot on the couch, walking over to your mom in the hopes if being able to hear whoever’s on the phone. “Hopper? Who is this?”

Suddenly, her breath catches in her throat as she looks at you. “Will?”

Jonathon practically shoots up from the couch, standing next to you. “It’s- It’s will?” You said, a weight coming off of your shoulders. He was alive.

Suddenly, her eyes go wide, no longer with relief, but instead fear. “Who- Who is this? What have you done to my boy?”

“Mom, what’s going on? Who’s on the phone?” You question, the weight suddenly crashing back down, making it nearly impossible for you to breathe. “Give me back my son- oh!” The phone drops from her hand, it clearly having gotten overheated or- or something.

Jonathon dives for it, “Hello? Who is this?”

You immediately go for your Mom, “What did he say?” You insist, but she’s already begun to sob. “He just breathed. He just breathed!” Your breath catches in your throat. So, he hadn’t said anything? Not a clue about where he was? Nothing?

You didn’t have time to dwell on it now as you pulled your mom into an embrace, the both of you crying together.

By the time everyone calms down and your mom finally gets herself to bed it’s pouring and you’re exhausted. You flop onto your bed, though it feels wrong to try and sleep knowing Will isn't right across the hall like he usually is.

You toss and turn for at least half an hour, so you’re beyond grateful at the sound of the landline in your room ringing. You assume it’s Conner finally replying to the hundreds of messages you left him, but you’re shocked when you hear the other voice on the line.

“Y/N? Are you there?”

“Mike?”

You assume he’s calling because he’s scared, just like all of you are. “Mike, is everything all right?”

The phone is silent, though you think you can hear Dustin and Lucas arguing in the background. You can hear Mike take a shaky breath, before he simply says, “We need your help.”