#angst but happy ending

[amberjazmyn]

she waits💔🫶

pairing : f1 grid x platonic fem!williams driver reader

summary : williams driver francisca benedict grew up without a mum after being abandoned by her. she never got over it and still waited for her. and maybe that was why her fellow f1 teammates was so against her constant want and longing for her mum. this will chronical francisca's life when she's a kid, teenager and now an adult with her own family.

warnings : parent abandonment, mentions of emotional childhood abuse, tears, pregnancy, happy ending

a/n : i love the song "she waits" by supernatural's rob benedict's band louden swain. even though i cannot personally relate to the song since i did not experience either parent abandoning me and my brother, i still love it and think it's a gorgeous song with so much emotional meaning to those who can relate to the song. also yes, i have made this into an f1 one-shot don't @ me

a/n : reader is french and husband's name is hayden.

have faith, promises were made. you just take care and behave, you left and now you are saved, the path it walks you away. 

francisca shouldn't be upset anymore. it was no longer news that francisca's mum left her and emotionally abused her when she was a much younger kid. now as a teenager, it still hurt her feelings when her mum fell through on a promise she had made to her daughter and the rest of her siblings. francisca's mum was the best at giving excuses after making countless promises of coming back to her family. 

"...allez cisca, aie confiance. elle nous a promis…maman nous a promis qu'elle serait là, alors elle l'est aussi!" julian, francisca's younger brother was so hopeful and it broke her heart as she sighed c'mon cisca, have faith. she promised us...mummy promised us that she'd be here so she has too!

"je sais qu'elle nous l'a promis, julian, mais bébé, elle n'a jamais tenu ses promesses," francisca sighed as julian sniffled, upset that his older sister was telling the truth i know she promised us julian but bub, she's ever ever followed through on these promises

of course, because julian was still young, the youngest of the dubois' siblings, he still had faith and belief in his mum. he still couldn't understand why all his older siblings were so against their maman. he didn't know why they were always so mad at her and why they'd constantly spew their hate for the woman that gave birth to them and then just left them. 

"je sais…je veux juste… je veux juste ma maman…" julian cried softly as francisca felt awful for the little boy who had no idea why their mother just up and left��i know...i just...i just want my mumma

"…je connais bubba, moi aussi… je le sais aussi…" francisca sighed as she picked up her brother and hugged him tightly i know bubba, i do too...i do too...

just like she was told to do by her dad, francisca took care of herself and she behaved. her mum left and she was saved and now the path was left for her to walk it and see where it took her. whether that was to her dream of joining formula one as the first female driver in decades or not. of course, she'd always wait for her mum, she'd wait for her for eternity but she knew her mum would never come back. especially when it was clear that her mum never loved her and the kids she gave birth to. or the man she married. it was clear she wanted a whole new life for herself so, that's what she did. and now, it was up to her now ex-husband to pick up the pieces that were broken forever. 

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay naked and weary. the walls, barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you. 

francisca never thought she'd see this house again. today, francisca was back in montmatre, france due to summer break and being begged by her husband who wanted to visit her hometown. and because she couldn't say no since the rest of her family still lived in montmatre, she decided that after some breakfast and a slow morning, she'd take her husband on the drive from their apartment in monaco up to montmatre and check it out. see if it still looked the same or see if her dad had changed it like he had planned to do since the day his wife abandonded the family and his kids. even though she genuinely never thought she'd ever want to see the house again, her ego was forcing her to check it out. especially after being told by her husband that he wanted to see where she grew up. because even though she and her husband were married, she had waited this long for him to visit montmatre because of everything in regards to her mum. just to see if it would still have the painful connotations it did before she decided to leave montmatre when she was seventeen for monaco to further her fight in getting into formula one. 

so, it shouldn't have surprised her and made her heart physically hurt when she got out of her car and walked to the front door to see the house as it looked now. but it did make her heart physically hurt. the house was empty. the floors laid naked, weary and worn in from all the abuse it had been given by her and her siblings. the walls, were barely hanging on. the wallpaper clearly ripped off so aggressively that it had basically destroyed the walls as well. and even though francisca shouldn't think this and hadn't thought of her in years, she still waited for her mum even though she had carried on with her life without her. she still yearned to be loved and appreciated by that woman. if anything, she just wanted to know why. why did that woman decide to marry that man, have all those kids and then just decide one day that she was just going to leave. 

sniffling, francisca was embarrassed as her husband rested his chin on her shoulder, "...you alright baby?" hayden's soft voice whispered behind her in english as francisca held back the sob that was waiting to be heard

"no...i just...i don't get it...i don't understand why we weren't enough for her, you know? were we not good kids? was dad not a good husband?" francisca's voice shook as hayden sighed, turning his wife around and hugging her properly 

"i know babe. i know what it feels like...and i highly doubt it was your guys' fault. i think a hundred per cent it was her fault. you were more than enough for her, the whole family was, and she didn't know how to appreciate that. it scared her that she could have people that loved her and she ran away because she didn't how to deal with it like an adult," hayden whispered as francisca nodded her head and smiled at her husband

she knew the pain of her husband's own abandonment by his dad and how that affected him. which was why it was so easy for hayden to comfort francisca when she'd get upset about her mum's abandonment. so she was glad that when she told that side of her to hayden, she felt safe knowing that he could relate to her, as depressing and so dependent it sounds, it meant that they both had something traumatic that they could relate to. it was something they could bond over because they knew what it felt like to be abandoned by a parent, by someone who was supposed to love unconditionally and love them. 

"yeah...she was probably scared but, why couldn't she just be the one to break the generational trauma? why does it have to be me and my siblings?" francisca now felt mad as hayden sighed, biting his lip as he shook his head

"i don't know darling but, if you don't break the generational trauma right now, then who will?" hayden spoke as francisca nodded her head, knowing she couldn't argue with that so she didn't 

"no one would. it'll continue happening each generation that's created so, the cycle ends here," francisca breathed in heavily as she clenched her fists as hayden smiled, feeling proud of his wife

"atta girl. let's go, we don't need to be here anymore," hayden smiled as he held his hand out for his wife as the benedicts then left the house that held many a bad memory 

last night you left like a bird, fly away and never be heard. the wind, it's cold and absurd but man, you gave her your word.

as francisca and the rest of the dubois family slept peacefully, there was a sudden slam of the front door. this made all the siblings jolt awake as francisca clambered out of her bed, down the hall, down the stairs and to the front door whilst the rest of the brothers and sisters fell back asleep. where her father, john dubois stood as he sobbed. wailing for his wife, hollie-anne dubois to come back as he opened the door back up again after hollie-anne had slammed it shut. begging for her to not leave him and the family. apologising if he had done something wrong that caused her to up and leave, abandoning their children. and this worried francisca. as the third oldest child but first oldest of the girls, she rushed to be with her dad. wanting to comfort him and wanting to know what had happened. 

"...papa? que fais-tu? qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" an exhausted francisca muttered as she cuddled up next to her dad at the front door that was opened for the dark early morning hours to see daddy? what are you doing? what's wrong?

"ahh…cisca, chérie! que faites-vous ici? tu devrais dormir!" john sniffled, trying to wipe away his tears before kneeling down to his young daughter's height ahh...cisca, honey! what are you doing here? you should be sleeping!

"j'ai entendu la porte d'entrée claquer, ça m'a fait peur…où est maman? est-ce elle qui a claqué la porte d'entrée?" francisca was scared, sure, her mum wasn't a great mum but that was still her mum and she adored her mum when she shouldn't be i heard the front door slam, it scared me...where's mummy? was it her that slammed the front door?

"ouais chérie. c'est maman qui a claqué la porte d'entrée…" john whimpered, not even trying to stay strong as francisca's eyes started to tear up as well, her dad's big oversized shirt she was wearing as her pyjamas made her look even smaller as john looked at her yeah honey. it was mummy that slammed the front door

"…où est-elle allée ? est-ce que maman va revenir?" francisca whimpered as her eyes welled with tears and her bottom lip shook as john shook his head, closing his eyes where did she go? is mummy going to come back?

"je ne pense pas, petite fille. elle semblait à peu près certaine qu'elle n'allait pas revenir…" john then shivered, as did francisca, the wind cold and absurd for this time of year as hollie-anne vowed to never do the very thing her own mother did to her i don't think so baby girl. she seemed pretty certain that she wasn't going to come back

"...mais…mais elle a promis qu'elle ne partirait pas…son petit doigt m'a promis qu'elle ne ferait pas ce que grand-mère a fait..." francisca's teary voice broke john's heart because he remembered that pinky promise that hollie-anne made with francisca when she was actually somewhat of a nice mum but...but she promised she wouldn't leave...she pinky promised me she wouldn't do want grandmummy did

"...je sais qu'elle l'a fait, petite fille, mais... j'ai peur que ta maman ne soit pas douée pour tenir ses petites promesses...." john trailed off as he finally picked up his eldest daughter to bring her back into the house since it was below freezing and it was getting late i know she did baby girl but...i'm afraid your mummy is not good at keeping her pinky promises

but francisca wriggled out of her dad's grip and she stepped out to the front porch step where she and her father were not even a minute ago. tears streaming down her small little cheeks as she just looked into the darkness of the montmatre chill and she waited. she waited as long as she could before john knew better to leave his daughter out of the house like this. bringing francisca back inside the house was a struggle but once he picked her up and brought her inside, closing and then locking the front door, she couldn't fight anymore. she was too weak and exhausted, falling asleep out of pure exhaustion of her tears on her daddy's shoulder as he walked them upstairs and into daddy's room. john knew his daughter wouldn't be able to stomach falling back asleep in her own bed. so, he let his six-year-old daughter sleep in his bed with her for the next four months, right up until she turned seven. 

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay naked and weary. the walls, barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you.

moving into a new house with her boyfriend hayden should have excited francisca. it was a happy occasion. francisca left paris to move out of france and live in monaco with her boyfriend. however, walking into this new house felt eerily similar to her childhood home back in montmartre, france. the one that haunted the adult in her sleep every night. the one that her father and youngest brother julian still lived in. the one that took years for her father to get rid of everything that had connotations to his ex-wife that just left that one evening with no other word of warning but a measly letter that john had later found after francisca had finally cried herself to sleep that night that hollie-anne left. but that was exactly it, no matter where francisca moved to, every single house she's moved into, it reminded her of her mother. especially when it was a house that was empty, the floors naked with no rugs or carpets or worn in from the years of it being lived in. the walls were new and pristine but to francisca, she saw the walls in the same way she saw herself, barely hanging on. 

"...cisca, bébé, tu dois arrêter de faire ça à chaque fois qu'on déménage. tu te tues à petit feu en pensant que partout où on va c'est montmartre et ta mère..." hayden sighed, feeling bad that his girlfriend felt like this because he knew exactly what it felt like, he too had a parent abandon him cisca, babe, you need to stop doing this every time we move houses. you're slowly killing yourself by thinking everywhere we go is montmartre and your mum

it was his dad that abandonded hayden and his family but, he still knew what parental abandonment felt like. he had to live with it and still lives with it every single day but, he doesn't let it constantly control his life. he wasn't doing what francisca does which is every new place they move into, bring in the memory of her mother that left. 

"...je sais que je dois arrêter mais je…je ne peux pas ! je ne sais pas comment!" francisca sighed as she plopped herself onto the new velvet couch - which, when she really thought about it, was definitely nothing like the couch she had in her childhood home in montmartre i know i need to stop but i...i just can't! i don't know how!

"yes you do, francisca, you just don't want to stop it. and i know that because i did the same thing for a little while too but, i eventually stopped it because i realised i knew how to stop it, i just didn't want to because i thought if i stopped bringing my dad into every situation that my world would end. but, as soon as i stopped bringing dad into everything and waiting for him, my life became better and i didn't think of him everywhere i went. and i was so much happier knowing that i could live without him and that i no longer had to wait for someone who was never going to come back..." hayden was exhausted, hence the english response and not french, but not of his girlfriend but of the pain she was putting herself through every single day 

hayden really did love francisca but he didn't love that she couldn't let go of the woman that abandoned her. all because somewhere inside of her, there was still the little six-year-old francisca that stood outside that front door in a cold montmartre chill waiting for her mummy to come home the very same evening she up and left. 

"...you're right hayden. i do know how to stop it and i don't want to stop it because if i do stop it, i feel like i'll never get the answers i deserved. the answers that that little girl all those years ago deserved...and i want answers hayden, i want to know why she decided to leave! i want to know why she thought it was a good idea to just leave my family alone in the late night montmartre chill. i want to know what we did that made her leave us!" francisca cried in english as hayden softened immediately, not that he was fighting her or mad, he just hated seeing the hurt and pain that was still etched on his girlfriend's face 

"i know babe but that's not healthy. and it's not going to do anything to actually help you. even though it may seem like closure, it's not actually going to help you. it's only going to make you fall into a deeper spiral of the what ifs," hayden soothed as he pulled francisca in for a hug as she nodded her head

"yeah...you're right..." francisca whispered as she sniffled and pulled out of the hug as she then saw all the boxes filled with everything that she and hayden had brought with them to fill their new house with

"...well, how about we make this house a home? it shouldn't stay empty cause then that'll be boring..." francisca smiled as hayden's eyes lit up with joy as he nodded his head

"..that's an amazing idea, cisca. i'd love to do that, let's start with this room we're in now and go from there..." hayden smiled as francisca nodded her head as her tears were gone and her joy had returned

even though today was a win, tomorrow was a whole other story because she was always going to wait for her mum. but, right now, she didn't feel like she needed to because it was clear that right now, she wasn't going to come back. and francisca was okay with that because she was with hayden and in a new house where her mother wasn't. 

she can't hear anything they're saying, she can't believe what is true. it doesn't make sense what they're saying, she can't see anyone but you. 

in formula one, which she had finally reached, in every single interview, the main topic of questions for francisca was in regards to her mum and the abandonment from her. and there was a reason for that. francisca welcomed those questions to be asked because she felt no reason to hide or shy away from it now she was in formula one. however, it was something the rest of the grid was protective about when it came to francisca. it was honestly very sweet at how protective those guys got in regards to their fellow driver when she was asked those questions. but, since it was a major part of who she was as francisca and not just who she was as a driver, it only made sense that those around her allowed her to be asked those questions.

however, one huge thing that francisca told her fellow drivers was that her mum was dead, not that she was abandoned by her mum. that was why the other drivers thought francisca's mum was dead. whenever francisca had a press conference or an interview with the other drivers, majority of the media interviewers knew not to question her about her mum when they were around. every driver thought that francisca's mum was an angel of a human and had sadly passed away when she was a child because that's what she had led them all to believe. she couldn't cope with telling them the truth so she just twisted it into a little white lie that had now been twisted a little too much to the point that francisca was struggling with her lie.

and in regards to the abandonment on francisca's mum, it was because she no longer wanted to be a mum. it was as simple as that really. it wasn't anything that john dubois had done, it was nothing that the kids had done, it had everything to do with the fact that hollie-anne no longer felt like she could be a mum without hurting those she loved. and she selfishly thought the best thing to change that would be to just pack up her things and leave late one evening in the freezing montmartre chill. with the knowledge that john would do everything he could to beg for her to come back knowing that she wouldn't. and as you can imagine, this devastated francisca and her family. it also caused so many fights in her family that it broke the family up. to the point where the older children, excluding francisca, left and the youngest and francisca stayed with their father. that was until francisca had to leave since she had gotten further within the levels of motorsport and was getting closer and closer to reaching formula one. and, also because she hoped that if she became a better racer that she would run into her mum. however, francisca was still waiting for the day she'd run into her mum as it hadn't happened yet. and it discouraged her...

...that was...until she saw someone during a chit chat with max verstappen, carlos sainz jr and lando norris. and the woman she had seen looked exactly like her mum. she couldn't verify if it was her mum but, it gave francisca hope that it was her mum. and because she was so hyperfixated on the woman that could be her mother, she couldn't hear anything that her teammates were saying to her. she couldn't believe what the potential truth could be. the truth that she could have found her mum during an f1 race, finally, after over a decade of looking.

max, lando and carlos all kept on trying to get her attention but it fell on deaf ears as they watched the way francisca tried to see if she could look at the older woman's face. because that was the only thing she could see. she couldn't see anyone but her...

...until the woman turned around fully, her eyes widened before softening as she smiled towards francisca as it was someone from williams racing. but, because francisca had full faith that it was her mum, wearing williams gear to support her daughter, she had no idea until the woman walked away before realising that it was just someone from williams.

"...i...i am so sorry guys..." francisca stammered, remembering that she was in conversation with max, lando and carlos

"...it's fine, cisca...we're just worried about you, what happened back there? you are usually so chill and relaxed but this entire conversation you've been distracted by that williams staff member. what's wrong?" max was worried as were lando and carlos, sure it was annoying that they had been ignored but it wasn't the end of the world

they weren't spilling anything important that was so secretive they couldn't repeat it if francisca did actually want to be told. it was just some general gossip that they had heard from around the paddock and different hospitalities and they were wanting to know francisca's take.

"i...i thought she was my mum..." francisca stammered as the three looked at each other and then back at francisca in confusion

"...your mum? i thought you told us that she had died...that was definitely not your mum, francisca!" lando was shocked and confused as francisca scoffed a laugh and provided the truth

"i lied lando. my mum's not dead, that i know of. she could very well be dead now but, i wouldn't know because she abandonded me and my family when i was six. she left one night, in the early hours after it had struck midnight. i was asleep when i had heard her slam the door shut, it had scared me so it woke me up and i had found my dad in hysterics almost as he had opened the door again. begging for mum to come back home even though i'm sure he knew that she wasn't going to. it was awful honestly, knowing i do have a mum but wants nothing to do with me, my dad or my siblings. it makes you wonder if everything you've ever done in your life was a mistake... and she's been gone ever since and that was why i fought as hard as i did to get into formula one...because, if i raced around the world, there was always a reason for me to believe that she could be watching the race, watching me and i'd see her again..." francisca trailed off as the three watched on in sadness for their best friend

"...but you never came into contact with her even though you saw her in everyone you came into contact with..." max finished as francisca nodded her head as she breathed out shakily, tears welling in her eyes at the memory of every race she had done just hoping she'd bump into her mum

"...yeah...that's about right..." francisca sniffled as max pulled his best friend in for a hug as the distraught girl mustered a smile

"...why didn't you tell us sooner sweetheart? we could've asked christian to go and look for her..." 

"...no, you couldn't have and i wouldn't have let you. i can't keep doing this and think that my mum's going to be there when i wait for her. because she won't be there and i have to finally take that as a sign to stop waiting for her..." francisca trailed off and the tears streamed down her face

little girl hold on and wait, it's not fair the fairness is overrated. wait and you will be saved, the path it walks in this way. 

francisca smiled as cheers and laughter could be heard all around her as she sat onstage during a fan zone in france but this time, it was paris so she wouldn't have to see her childhood home this time. it was nearing the end of her panel with her williams teammate logan, and ferrari's carlos and charles when a little girl all of a sudden shuffled up to the microphone. 

"...wait, wait, guys, don't end the questions just yet, i am so sorry but, i think this little girl has a question..." francisca felt bad for stopping the moderator who was about to halt all questions but, she saw a little girl walk near the microphone stand and it was obvious she had a question 

and the moderator nodded her head and stayed at the microphone stand as the little girl made it, "...hello sweetheart, what's your name and what's your question?" francisca asked softly, inching towards the stage's end even more to see the little girl clearer 

the little girl smiled with a shy energy to her as she breathed into the microphone, "my name is francesca and...and my question is for francisca..." francesca, the little girl spoke in her little high-pitched voice as the crowd cooed, francisca, logan, charles and carlos doing the same thing

"...hello francesca, what a beautiful name, you almost have the same name as me but my name is francisca!" francisca smiled at the little girl who lit up at hearing that her name was almost the same as her favourite f1 driver as she then asked her question

"well, my question is, whilst you are an amazing driver and such an inspiration for myself and so many girls, i wanna know, who's the most influential woman in your life since i know you speak about not having your mum around. since i can relate to you because i don't know my mum either so i...i was just wondering who the most influential woman in your life is because for me, you are the most influential woman in my life..." francesca got teary at the end of her question as that broke francisca's heart as logan, charles and carlos watched closely, their hearts breaking as well

francesca, the little girl only looked to be eight...maybe nine but, if francesca was nine, nearing ten, she was awfully small for her age. and it broke francisca's heart into two because whilst she was a lot younger, six, when her mum left her and her family, when she was francesca's age, she was still very much struggling with the fact that she didn't have a mum to run to for help or even an older sister since she was the older sister in the family, she didn't have a girl older than her to run to for help. 

"...oh honey, are you okay? do...do you need a hug?" francisca moved closer to the edge of the stage as she watched little francesca start to cry, no longer able to hold her tears in anymore as the audience stayed quiet

francesca nodded her head as she slightly stepped away from the microphone so it wouldn't pick up her little sobs. francisca stepped down from the stage and walked the two steps to where the moderator and francesca was and picked the little girl up and hugged her tightly. it was obvious to logan, charles, carlos, hayden and the fans in the audience who knew francisca's story, that she saw herself in little francesca and how unfair it was that she was still hearing these stories of little kids being abandonded and left behind by either one of or both of their parents. a few minutes later and little francesca had stopped crying, only little sniffles could be heard and francisca was content in knowing that the little girl could go back to her seat back to her dad who had come to the grand prix fan zone with her. it was obvious that little francesca's dad had also been crying during that exchange because not only had francesca's mum abandonded her, francesca, but she had also abandonded her husband and the father of their children. so it wasn't shocking that little francesca's dad was also crying and it wasn't something that needed to be made into a scene either because it was a father having his heart break as his little girl tells her favourite group of drivers that she can relate to one of the drivers who was also just like her, a little girl that had dreamt of becoming an f1 driver. but, again, it's stories like these that francisca and the rest of her teammates hear on the daily that makes what they do months out of the year completely worth it in the end. 

"well, francesca, to answer your question properly, i have to say, the most influential woman in my life is probably either my godmother susie wolff or my friend max's mum sophie! and you said that i'm your most influential woman in your life?" francisca pauses as francesca nods her head to the driver's question as her heart flutters

"yes, you're my favourite driver and who i want to be when i grow up, francisca!" francesca responds as coos are heard around the fan zone as francisca places her hand over her heart

"aw, you are so sweet, thank you francesca! well, i want to be like you when i'm older! but um, yeah, because i was abandonded by my mum when i was six, i was the older sister so i didn't have an older sister to be influenced by and looked after because that was my job for my younger brothers and sisters when my mum left back home in montmartre. so, i was very, very young when she left but it was around that time that i was taking karting very seriously and i was also getting very good at it. and it was then that i had seen women like susie and sophie that i just fell in love with and just constantly looked up to because they were doing the things that i wanted to do as well as i started to grow up and get older. and it took me quite a few years to get to that point because i was always looking out for the woman that i so despertely wanted to be influenced by that i knew was never going to come home so it was useless to wait for her when she had always had this plan of hers to just leave and never return. so, yeah, i'd have to say that my two most influential women in my life are susie wolff and sophie kumpen..." francisca trailed off as she smiled at the little girl and her father who clinged onto every single world francisca had said but it was clear that they weren't the only ones

it looked as though the entire fan zone, the interviewers and other drivers included, had clinged onto every single word and you could hear a pin drop. because it was unfair but if little francisca could wait and this was the life she lived now, so could little francesca. because little francesca's life was going to change forever and in the best way and it was her mum's loss and that she was never going to know about it or see it because she made the decision to leave rather than stay and be her daughter's most influential woman in her life.

and meanwhile the house is empty, the floors lay, naked and weary. the walls barely hanging on, carry on and she waits for you. 

francisca hadn't ever been happier in her life. she had just found out that she was pregnant with her and hayden's first baby. meaning because of her new pregnancy, she'd no longer be able to race for the next few seasons. and she still had to tell hayden and the way she surprised hayden was in the empty spare room at the end of the upstairs hallway that was next to their bedroom. the room, that used to lay naked and weary was now decorated from top to bottom with everything that had got to do with babies and having a baby. it was colourful, it was vibrant, it was happy. it reflected the new joy of francisca becoming a mum after always being scared of being one since the only mum she ever knew was a mum that lied and eventually ran away, never to be seen again but always waited on. and that wasn't what francisca wanted to be as a mum. she wanted to be a mum that told the truth, that stayed even with her job in formula one and was always one message or phone call away if help was needed, and a mum that didn't need to be waited on. a mum that didn't break her pinky promises. 

"...cisca? bébé, où es-tu?" hayden giggled as he entered the house after a long work day as francisca bit her lip in excitement cisca? babe, where are you?

"à l'étage bébé, dans la pièce d'amis à côté de notre chambre," francisca tried to hide the excitement in her voice but it was clear that it couldn't be hidden way as hayden giggled upstairs babe, in the spare room next to our bedroom

he made his way upstairs to the spare room that was always empty, with confusion as to why his wife was up there. but, because he was too tired to question it, he didn't. however, what he saw when he made his way into the room made so many questions fly through his head that it almost made him burst. 

"wait...is this...are you pregnant, cisca?" hayden questioned in english as his eyes widened as francisca bit her lip and nodded her head 

"uh-huh! all five tests said positive!" francisca burst into excited squeals and tippy taps as hayden laughed in joy, pulling his wife in for a hug as tears welled in his eyes 

"oh my gosh, baby, you're pregnant pregnant!" hayden sobbed with a giggle as francisca giggled and nodded her head 

"mmm, i'm pregnant pregnant!" francisca sighed with contentment as hayden then relaxed his shoulders as he noticed that francisca wasn't worried like she used to be

"and...you're not...worried? not even about having to surrender your f1 seat for maybe the next year?" hayden questioned, pulling out of the hug as francisca shook her head 

"no, babe, oh my gosh no! i'm not worried at all. if this was happening at the beginning of our relationship or even the start of our marriage then, hell yes, i would be freaking out and thinking about not wanting it. but, because, i've stopped waiting for her and expecting her to be there when i know she won't, i feel so much better and i'm so excited hayden. i'm so excited to be a mum and for you to be a dad...even if it means i have to give up my f1 seat for a little bit..." francisca sighed as she sat her and hayden down on the bed as hayden released all the stress he had just gave himself 

"...i'm glad you're excited about this because you will be such an amazing mum, cisca. i have no worries at all that what happened to you when you were a kid is not going to happen to this baby...to our baby. because i'm not going to leave this baby and you're not going to leave this baby, we've already broken the generational trauma to make sure it never ever happens again to the future children and their childrens children. we're doing a great thing here, cisca and i cannot wait for it. if anything, we're no longer waiting for our deadbeat mum and dad but our little baby," hayden smiled with tears in his eyes as francisca nodded her head as she gave her husband a kiss

"we're waiting for our little benedict," francisca whispered as hayden nods his head as he then goes to his knees to kiss the non-existant baby bump 

she waits for you, she waits

after waiting eight and a half months, in december on a cold evening in monte-carlo, monaco during christmas with the leclerc's, verstappen's and norris' families that francisca gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. the baby girl was named tallulah eleanor benedict and was healthy at a steady five pounds and eight ounces. 

hearing the cries of little tallulah sounded like the angels in heaven. whilst it may have been exhausting for francisca and painful to deliver a baby into this world after it living in the womb for nearly nine months, it was still a beautiful thing. and something that francisca and hayden could definitely see themselves doing again if they wanted to give tallulah some siblings in the future. but, right now, tallulah had just arrived and it was all about her. 

"...here she is, well done francisca. you did an amazing job, does the father want to cut the cord?" the attending midwife turned to the husband as hayden smiled and nodded his head 

the midwife offered him the sheers and he cut the cord clean and perfectly as tallulah was properly swaddled up and returned to her maman and papa. 

"isn't she just gorgeous, hayden? we made her, we actually created an entire little human being!" francisca muttered, clearly still loopy and delirious from her epidural as hayden could only smile with teary eyes at his wife

"she's beautiful, francisca, just like her maman. and yes, we did make her, we made a gorgeous human being who looks like the perfect mix of her maman and papa!" hayden smiled as he caressed both francisca and then tallulah as the midwife returned

"sorry to disturb you maman and papa but, i think the godparents want to be introduced to their goddaughter..." the midwife smiled as hayden smiled as did francisca as they nodded their heads

although it was tradition for the grandparents to meet the new baby first, hayden and francisca didn't fly that way. of course, hayden and francisca both loved their singular parent, of course they did. but, because they had tallulah in monte-carlo, monaco, not in either of the countries that hayden's mum and francisca's dad currently were, it just made sense that the godparents and other uncles and aunties met baby tallulah first. since mrs benedict and mr dubois were on flights over to monte-carlo which meant that it was still a few hours before they'd land in monaco and then arrive to the hospital to then meet the baby.

which leads to the question that everyone was curious about and that was who the godparents to baby tallulah was. and, the godparents of tallulah are max & kelly and carlos & rebecca. which, everyone should have theoretically seen coming but, it was still a shock when hayden and francisca announced it. especially considering she didn't pick her fellow william's teammate, logan.

"...of course, they can come in," francisca smiled as she sat her and baby tallulah up in the hospital bed as max & kelly and carlos & rebecca walked in

the two couples were confused that all four of them were asked to come in rather than just one of the couples. but, they didn't argue and they all cooed in adoration for the new f1 grid baby. 

"oh my gosh...cisca, hayden...she's gorgeous! what's little bubba's name?" kelly cooed as she looked at the baby lovingly, rebecca, carlos and max doing the same

"thank you kelly, her name's tallulah eleanor benedict..." francisca trailed off as she looked down at the little girl she was cradling that was hers and her husbands

"...tallulah eleanor...that's such a perfect name for a perfect little princess!" kelly cooed again as max could tell his girlfriend was getting baby fever even though they already had penelope as carlos could tell that rebecca was trying hard to hide her own baby fever as well 

"she's gorgeous cisca but, why do you need all four of us in here? i thought you only needed the godparents..." carlos asked in confusion as francisca and hayden giggled as little tallulah wiggled and made little noises 

"...exactly...all four of you are tallulah's godparents," francisca smiled as they all looked at their best friend and teammate as though she had four eyes 

"wait, that's allowed? i only thought only one couple were allowed to be a child's godparents..." max trailed off in confusion as to be fair, he did have a fair point

"...technically, that is true and if there is any "paperwork" that needs only one pair of emergency contacts, it'll be you and kelly, alright max. but, if it needs a second pair of emergency contacts, that's where carlos and rebecca come in and why i want tallulah to have two godmums and two goddads cause she already has enough aunties and uncles..." francisca trailed off as they all giggled but it was clear that it really touched both couples that they both had been chosen as tallulah's legal guardians if anything were to happen to francisca and hayden

"...well, she does have a lot of aunties and uncles and cousins but, that's the best way to do it. you wouldn't want to bring a kid up with no one around them," max smiled as he moved over and hugged francisca and placing his gigantic hand on baby tallulah's teeny tiny head 

 "that's very true, max, very true," francisca smiled in content as she looked at everyone around her plus the others in the waiting room and her dad and mrs benedict who were also on their way as well 

she had never felt this amount of love before but she loved it but she loved her new baby girl the most. baby tallulah was what francisca had been waiting for, not her mother. 

fin

okay, man, writing this in an f1 light was difficult but i'm kinda glad i did if you know what i mean! like it's not perfect but it's not bad ya know? and sorry i didn't really add in a lot of the f1 aspect, especially considering the reader was a driver as well but that kind of was forgotten so i do apologise lol

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[starrynight29]

Hello, a post canon fix-it that is basically my show mourning, but with a happy ending bc heck with canon.

‘love the hell out of you’ - ch.1

ao3 link

[tojbnuy]

boyfriend!toji who doesn’t know why but he feels this weird jealousy everytime he sees you meet your friends and greet them all with a big hug. you never did that with him. you relationship was still fairly new to the both of you, but you kissed you fucked you even held hands sometimes when walking around. but, what toji was now realizing, was that he wanted a hug. well, he wanted a hug from You. not a casual little hug, a hug. holding each other. he didn’t know how to broach the subject without sounding needy and like the complete opposite of how he usually acts. he had never cared about this kinda stuff with other people, he’d never experienced it growing up and he thought he could live without it. until you. until you showed him that wanting to be held was normal. he’d been thinking about it for a while until one night, as the two of you got ready for bed it simply slipped out.

‘how come you don’t hug me?’

immediately you stopped plaiting your hair and turned to him with a shocked look.

‘what?’

‘how come you don’t hug me? like when you see your friends or you say bye you hug them. you don’t hug me.’

as soon as he said it he felt stupid. a grown man like him, older than you and he was sat here asking for a fucking hug. what if you turned the question around and said ‘well you don’t hug me’ what would he say? that i’ve never done that before sorry i don’t know how? his thoughts came to a stop when he felt a small hand grab his own larger one.

‘i- toji im so sorry. i’m sorry i didn’t think that was something you wanted.’

fuck now he’s made you feel bad.

‘nah doll you don’t have to say sorry, its nothing let’s just go to bed’

‘no toji please. let’s talk about it.’

you lifted the blanket and made your way over to his side of the bed so you could sit face to face. everything about you was so soft, so kind. such a complete contrast to himself. he was panicking, he didn’t do stuff like this, never talked about stuff like this.

‘honestly toji, i really just thought you weren’t a touchy person. i’m sorry for just assuming especially considering everything you’ve been through,’

‘no please doll. i wasn’t trying to blame you for anything. i just’

his palms were actually sweating, but your face. god your darling sweet face, looking at him like he hung up the stars in sky. like every word out of his mouth meant the world to you. you would wait for him to get the words out no matter how long he took.

‘i don’t know to be honest. you’re right i’m not a touchy person i’ve never really hugged anyone. but i want that. with you. and im sorry, i should be the one to initiate it i just didn’t really know how doll.’ his voice was so quiet, just a rough whisper.

he looked up to stare into your glassy eyes when you leaned in and kissed him. a small whisper of a kiss.

‘can i hug you?’ you said with your lips pressed against his.

he knew you knew he would prefer not to dwell on it.

and then he wrapped his arms around your back so tightly like he was showing the universe just how bad he needed you. he pulled you into his lap and let his cheek fall to your shoulder. he felt your arms wrap around his neck and you fingers stroking the hairs at his nape.

neither of you spoke, you simply sat and held each other and made a silent promise to maintain the closeness from today onwards.

‘thank you for telling me toji. you big baby.’

‘yeah that’s enough. time for bed.’

your giggle was music to his ears.

[imfinereallyy]

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

[hinamie]

quick itfs sketch page

[bluepigeon300]

After the fall....

🚨DO NOT REPOST🚨

[ellecdc]

The Bolter

Sirius Black x fem!reader who meet again [5.5k words]

prompt: poly!wolfstar or just Sirius x reader in which they were friends with benefits but it was obvious they loved each other even though they acted like they weren’t. Then, reader finds out shes pregnant and before telling them, they do something stupid. so reader runs away for a few months. When she comes back (only bc she had to for some reason) shes like 6-7 months pregnant

CW: secret pregnancy, angst, FWB to strangers to lovers, second chance fic, post war trauma, both Sirius and reader are meeesssssssssssyyyyy in this! I don't approve of what they've done but I understand it

“So…she’s coming back?” Sirius asked cautiously, focusing more on the condensation pooling on the coaster underneath his pint than the concerned gazes of his two best friends. 

“Well, I don’t know if she’s coming back, but she’ll be here for Harry’s birthday.” James mollified, sharing a nervous look with Remus.

“Right.” Sirius murmured around a swallow; throat tight and dry though neither the pint nor the pitcher of water in front of him looked as though they’d be able to help him with the matter. 

“Are you going to be alright?” Remus queried, and Sirius offered him the most arrogant scoff he could muster; he missed by a long shot.

“Of course I’m going to be alright.” He huffed. “Why? Can’t two friends see each other after five and a half months of silence?” 

“Sirius-” James started, but Sirius carried on. 

“She’s the only one who’s been silent, you know?” Though he knew that they did indeed both know. “I’ve tried. I’ve tried reaching out.” 

“Pads.” Remus offered consolingly, looking frustratingly like he was going to reach a hand out to Sirius as if he were some over tired toddler on the brink of a meltdown.

“Stop, no I- I’m fine, honest.” He insisted as he took a steadying breath. “I- you… talked to her, then?”

James and Remus shared another look before James allowed the segue. 

“Mostly by owl, but she has spoken on the phone with Lily a few times.” 

Sirius nodded as he considered this; considered the number of owls Sirius had sent that had gone unanswered - perhaps even unopened if the silence meant anything at all.

“She’s…okay?” 

Remus let out a sigh as he shot Sirius a tight smile that looked more like a grimace. “She’s…vague.”

“She doesn’t share a whole lot.” James agreed. “Says she’s fine, things are good. Mostly asks about…all of us, Harry.” 

“She’s still staying with that great aunt,” Remus added, “helping her with the property.” 

“She seeing anyone?” There was no point in pretending that wasn’t the most pressing matter in Sirius’ mind; of course it was. And as angry and bitter as the idea made Sirius, it would have been his own fault, his own doing. He had no one to blame but himself. 

And he’d have to live the rest of his life knowing he was the one who let you slip away - pushed you away - right into the arms of someone else. 

“Not that she’s mentioned.” Remus responded honestly; he couldn’t say for sure that you weren’t, but if you were, you clearly hadn’t said anything about it. 

“Right.” Sirius offered shortly. 

“Pads, I…we would understand if it's too hard for you to see her. If you can’t come-”

“Don’t be daft.” Sirius scoffed deploringly. “I’m not going to miss my godson’s birthday. If anyone should be missing it, it should be her; I’ve been here for the past four and a half months, she’s the one who fucked off for good.”

“Sirius-”

“I don’t understand why you had to invite her!” Sirius shouted then, startling even himself when he realised how breathless he sounded all of a sudden. 

James smiled at him sadly; Sirius wished he’d stop doing that. “We wanted all of Harry’s uncles and his aunt to be there, Sirius…it’s important, yeah? We…we almost didn’t get this chance.”

Sirius could feel a wicked migraine coming on; between talking about you, the close calls and the fact that the group of you were all alive following the war by nothing but chance, and the fact that the person Sirius was most angry with was himself, he downed the rest of his pint and flagged the server in favour of having to look at the pitiful gazes being shot at him by Remus and James.

Sirius couldn’t tell if he was eager for Harry’s second birthday or dreading it. But like it or not, Sirius was going to be seeing you again. 

It had felt like a good idea at the time.

It felt beyond foolish now, but it had felt like a good idea at the time. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

“Sirius, we just won. We just won, why do you have to leave now?” You practically begged as you followed Sirius through his flat. 

“Because if I don’t get out now, I’m going to be stuck here for eternity.” He all but spat at you as he shoved articles of clothing into his duffle rather haphazardly. You felt like grabbing the bag from him and folding them properly if the act wouldn’t leave you feeling like you were aiding and abetting his abandoning you.

“But what about James? And Remus? What about Harry? You fought this war for them, and they for you - we just got them back!”

“And they’ll be here when I’m ready to come home!” Sirius shouted; turning to look at you with wild, red rimmed eyes. 

“What about me?” You asked quietly, hating how small you sounded.

“What about you?” He asked; face falling painfully neutral. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought he was occluding. 

“I…I don’t know.” You started awkwardly, shrugging one shoulder. “I thought…maybe we’d have a chance now. To try?.”

“Y/N.” Sirius sighed as he rubbed harshly at his eyes; entire being oozed exhaustion at having to have this conversation with you. “Have I not been entirely clear about what this was between us?” 

“Right.” You agreed quickly, biting roughly on your lip and looking anywhere but at him as he let his hand fall away from his face. 

“It’s…it’s not you, doll-” but even your humourless scoff didn’t derail him “I’m not the kind to settle down and be content I- I wouldn’t be enough for you.”

“I’m not asking you for any more than what we have, Sirius-”

“Yes you are.”

“-I just want you to stay.”

“That’s too much for me.” He stated; his voice never raised though he may as well have screamed it at you. “I cannot sit here and play house, I cannot be that guy for you.”

“Cannot or will not?” You asked quietly, regretting the question the second it came out of your mouth and he looked at you with nothing but pity in his eyes. 

“Y/N…”

“I’m sorry I asked.” You let out with a chuckle as you harshly wiped tears from under your eyes. 

“It’s…it’s not forever, yeah? I just…I can’t see myself being happy here…not right now, at least; not for a while.” 

“Where will you go?” Your voice grated painfully as it came out, but you tried to keep an air of nonchalance about you. You wouldn’t look at him, but you could see his shoulders shrug helplessly. 

“I don’t know…everywhere. Anywhere.”

Anywhere was better than stuck here with you, apparently. 

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is.” You offered, and you found that you meant it. As much as it hurt to say, you really, really meant it. Sirius had been fighting and running his entire life, and he finally won. If he wanted to celebrate his victory by taking off to be that rich, vague uncle who popped by with lavish gifts every so often, who were you to deny him? 

You loved him.

You were in love with him.

You loved him enough to let him go. 

*ೃ༄.ೃ࿐

He had sent James a postcard a few weeks later. Turns out he started in the South of France; his family had a home there that had been left untouched by the war, and Sirius was going to start by figuring out what to do with the property. 

And you? Well, you found out you were pregnant. 

You suppose it was a small mercy that Sirius wasn’t here to know; you’re sure it would have hurt more hearing him tell you he was leaving if there were two of you he couldn’t find it in him to love. You would have hated it even more if he felt trapped into staying with you just for this.

But all this meant was that you couldn’t stay, either. 

You supposed that was alright, though; the life you wanted to build here was with Sirius. You loved your friends, but you had a little one to think about now, too. 

You made up a story about a great aunt needing help tending to her property and wishing to be closer to your relatives now that you could be, now that it was safe. No one questioned it, likely because Remus had done the same following the war; moving back home to help his dad and ailing mother tend the property in whatever ways he could. 

You found yourself a little cottage, you wrote to the boys and had the occasional phone call with Lily, and you grew.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. 

But now you were almost six months pregnant and returning home for the first time since you moved to celebrate your nephew’s birthday with all of your closest friends, the love of your life whose child you were carrying, and none of them knew. 

You wondered if you should even go, but the thought of missing out on sweet Harry’s second birthday that the lot of you almost never got the chance to see made your throat constrict with tears you refused to shed since the war. 

You wondered if you should tell everyone before you arrived, but the thought of them all discussing you and your pregnancy without you being there left you feeling small and ashamed. 

You wondered if you should tell Sirius, but you looked over at the stack of unopened letters he had sent to you in the past four months - the first thin, perhaps a postcard, the second and third were thicker, the fourth was by far the thickest (like he had drafted an autobiography that he wanted you to proofread for him), the fifth was similar to the second, whilst the sixth (the last) couldn’t be more than one page - and wondered how the hell you’d even start that conversation after all this time.

Hey, remember me? Yeah, the bird who caught feelings during our friends with benefits situation that we both agreed would remain platonic amidst a battle for survival and then begged you to stay with no success? Well, whilst you’ve been off probably shagging every beautiful woman across the British Isles, I’ve been pregnant. Right, with your child. How was France, by the way? 

You swallowed around your gag reflex and groaned at your image in the mirror. You put on a pair of gingham pants with the baggiest band-tee you could find, planned on sucking in the best you could if anyone (when everyone) insisted on a hug and hoped to every deity that they all just assumed you’d been eating really well since the end of the war. 

You smoothed the fabric over your bump one last time before you left - looking at the proof that, if nothing else, you were protecting more than just yourself, and you let that be enough - before you grabbed Harry’s birthday present and called for Potter Manor, throwing a fistfull of floo powder into your fireplace and travelling by way of the flames. 

You could hear Harry squealing in delight in one of the adjacent rooms as you stepped into the floo reception room at Potter Manor; a smile taking over your face uninhibitedly at the sounds of the people you loved more than life itself, happy and celebrating.

How could you have gone so long without this? 

“Y/N!” Lily shrieked as she made for you, and you sucked in before returning her hug. “Merlin, you're glowing! Where’s your aunt's place again?” 

“Erm. Killarney.” You offered; not entirely untrue - you did have an aunt in Killarney. 

“Well,” she let out with a breath, eyes turning a touch glassy as they darted across your face, “it seems that Irish air’s been for you.” 

You smiled back at your friend before pulling her back in for another hug. “I’ve missed you, Lils.”

“Don’t let it go so long next time, yeah? We can come to you, too; I’m teaching James how to be a muggle, and Harry’s only had the odd burst of accidental magic yet. We could play the part in front of your aunt.” 

“I’d love that, Lily.” You responded earnestly. 

“Y/N!” James hollered then before you were being bodily tackled by the former quidditch chaser, a brief flash of anxiety at his hold around your stomach abating only when he relinquished his hold on you. “Where in the sodding hell have you been!?”

“Killarney.” Lily answered for you. 

“I love Killarney!” 

“Have you ever been to Killarney, Prongs?” Remus asked then, appearing in the door as he leaned against the archway. 

“No! But I love it there! I just know it!” 

“Hey Moony.” You greeted, quickly accepting his open arms and breathing him in.

“We’ve missed you.” He murmured into your hair, and you couldn’t help the traitorous hitch in your heart that he might’ve meant-

“Uncle Pafoo!” Harry squealed, suddenly standing right underneath you. 

“That’s right, Haz!” The voice that haunts your dreams called out. “Auntie is here!”

“Hullo, Harry!” You cheered as you picked him up, sucking in before settling on your hip. “Happy birthday, little dude.” 

“Am two!” He announced as he held up four fingers. 

“You are two! Way to go!” You laughed. “Is everyone here?” You asked the room, shooting Sirius a tight smile so you couldn’t be accused of hostility when your heart stuttered for an entirely different reason. 

He looked tired - a bone deep tired that no amount of sleep could rectify - and the bags under his eyes seemed to be chronic. But he was still so beautiful; his hair had grown slightly longer since the last time you’d seen it, the last time you’d run your fingers through it, the last time you’d brought sheers to it, and he donned more than a few new tattoos if the few you could see were enough to go by. 

You had to look away.

“Reg’s going to be by after work; his part-time student called in sick so he needed to be there to close the shop himself. Thankfully, they’re only open in the morning on Sunday’s.” Remus explained kindly.

“Good, it’ll be nice to see him.” You offered, and the room fell slightly awkward.

“Uncle Pafoo, aeroplane?” Harry asked then, and whatever exhaustion seemed to be plaguing Sirius vanished as he beamed at his godson. 

“Absolutely, little man!” He agreed, holding his arms out and taking Harry’s weight from you.

“Do you want something to drink, Y/N? Wine? Beer, Cider? Juice? Water?” James rapid fire, causing Lily to groan. 

“We just got her back, Potter. Do try to control yourself.” 

“Water would be great, Jamie. Thank you.” You laughed, following the group into the open concept kitchen-to-living room. 

Save the fact that you and Sirius seemed to be doing acrobatics to avoid each other, you were almost stunned at how easy and natural being back here felt. Regulus returned and the two of you shared friendly jibes, Lily caught you up on all of the drama at the Ministry, James strong armed you into agreeing to join them for their next pub quiz night, and Remus said that your old professors all wished you well. 

You loved your cottage - the home you’d built for yourself and your little one - but you found yourself feeling homesick for here, and you hadn’t even left yet.

You were leaning on your elbows against the kitchen island, watching Sirius and Regulus pretend to be knights in shining armour as they fought off a fire breathing dragon (Harry) to save the princess (James) when Remus appeared beside you and mirrored your stance. 

“It’s not the same without you, you know?” He murmured then. 

“But they seem to be alright.” You responded simply, and Remus allowed the two of you to fall into silence for a few beats.

“How far along are you?” 

You stood up straight and turned to stare at him in horror, only to see him smiling kindly at you. 

“How do you-”

“Lycanthropy - I could smell it on you.” He said with an embarrassed wrinkle of his nose. “I knew Lily was pregnant before she did.”

You shushed him and looked over your shoulder to ensure no one else could hear you.

“Come.” He said with a sigh, gently taking you by the elbow and ushering you out of the sliding doors to the back yard and closing it behind the two of you. 

“Remus-”

“Is it his?” He cut you off; his face held no judgement though perhaps just a touch of concern. For you or his best friend/virtual brother-in-law, you weren’t sure.

“Yes.” You whispered, not bothering to clarify who he was talking about; you both knew. 

Remus simply nodded as he looked you over. “Is that why you left?”

“He left first.” You hissed petulantly.

“He left you, but you left all of us.” Remus countered somewhat sternly. “Besides, I didn’t ask about him; is this why you left?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” 

“Because, Remus!” You shouted, tears flooding your vision as you turned to look at him. “Because he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want me. I wasn’t going to force him to come back just because… just because.” 

“Don’t you think he should have been able to make that choice for himself?” Remus asked gently.

“He chose! He did choose! He told me he couldn’t play house, he told me he couldn’t be this person for me. I loved him enough to accept that. I loved him enough to let him go.”

“Loved?” Remus asked with a tilt of his head. “Past tense?” 

“Remus.” You groaned. “Please.”

“He came back for you, you know.” Remus pointed out. “He left you, you left us, but he came back for you.” 

“Stop it.”

“It’s true, Y/N.”

“And so what if it is?” You nearly sobbed. “So what if he did, Remus? What can I do? I can’t go back in time and change my mind, I can’t go back and fix this. He made choices, I made choices, and here we are.” 

Remus heaved a sigh and looked at you sadly. “I don't think either of you realise that your choices don’t have to remain permanent; there can be an expiration date on them.” 

You were catching your breath from your mini temper tantrum when you heard the glass door slide open, both you and Remus turning to see Sirius standing there almost shy - far shier than you’d ever seen him before.  

“Just talk to him? Okay? You..don’t have to tell him now, just…talk to him.” Remus whispered before heading towards the door, clapping Sirius on the back before disappearing back into the house. 

“Hey.” Sirius offered cautiously after a few beats of silence, coming to stand beside you as the two of you looked over the railing of the patio to the rest of the manor grounds. 

“Hey.” You returned dumbly, clearing your throat before continuing. “You…you look good, Sirius.”

Sirius scoffed, and you could feel your shoulder rising before you saw him smirk at you - if not somewhat sadly - cutting you a playful glare from the corner of his eye. “Did you take up lying there in Ireland?” 

You let out a breathy half-laugh. “I’m not lying.” 

“Then you need glasses. I look like shite.”

“You look tired.” You amended. 

“I’m exhausted.” He agreed, and the two of you lapsed into silence. 

“You look good, though.” He continued. “Healthy.”

You hummed in agreement. “Funny what not having to run on rations and broken hours of sleep on military cots does for a person.”

“Why haven’t I heard from you, Y/N?” He blurted then, turning his entire body to face you. 

“Sirius, I-”

“Everyone else has. You’ve spoken to Lily on the phone. James and Remus have gotten letters. Even Reg got a postcard for his birthday.” 

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could manage to say.

“I wrote to you.” He continued. “Letters, a lot. Did you get them?”

You nodded your head yes shamefully.

“Did you read them?”

You felt your heart splinter at how hopeful and heartbroken he sounded over it. You felt like scum of the earth when you shook your head no, and he let out a sigh.

“I guess that makes me feel a little bit better, then.” He said as he lit a cigarette and took a deep drag. 

You found yourself taking a step away from him when you asked “why does that make you feel better?”

He let out a humourless laugh that forced smoke from his lips. “At least now I know that my begging for a second chance, begging you to come home, professing my love for you isn’t what kept you away.”

“Sirius-”

“I messed up, Y/N.” He declared earnestly. “I…I was fucking scared, terrified. I’d spent so much of my life living with one foot on the threshold of hell that after the war, I didn’t know how to live amongst the undead.”

He took a moment to catch his breath as if he’d run all the way here just to tell you something. “And I ran. I bolted, I…”

“You left.” You finished for him. 

“I left.” He agreed. “I… I didn’t know, Y/N.”

“Didn’t know what?” You asked as you choked back tears.

“Didn’t know what I had, or what I wanted. Or that I had everything that I wanted.”

“And you do, now? You know what you want?” You asked, and a look of determination painted his features as he met your gaze head on.

“For my entire life, I had never known what family meant, so I wasn’t even aware that I’d created my own with all of you until I’d risked it all. I was so sure I didn’t want to be like my parents that I never realised I may actually…want to be a parent someday. I was so sure I didn’t want to be my father that I never realised I actually did want to be a partner someday. I was so certain I’d never know what true love felt like that I didn’t even realise I had it right here all along with you.” 

“Sirius-”

“I messed up. I left. But what I don’t understand is why you did. Or why you stayed away.” He took a step towards you with his cigarette long forgotten in one of his hands, the ash threatening to burn his fingers before you plucked it and stubbed it out on the stone railing. He barely flinched. “Why’d you go?”

“I didn’t want to sit around and wait for you, Sirius. I- it hurt, I was hurt. And then-”

“I’m sorry.” He offered quickly, but you shook your head.

“I’m not telling you this for you to be sorry, I just-”

“I came back for you.”

“But it wasn’t just about me anymore, Sirius!” You shouted then, and you watched his brows furrow before his face fell in horror. 

“You’re seeing someone.” He asked, though he phrased it as more of a statement; like he’d been expecting it.

“I’m not seeing anyone, Sirius.” You sighed.

“Then why’d you leave? Why’d you stay away?”

“Because I’m pregnant.” You blurted, and Sirius fell silent. “I’m almost six months pregnant.”

“Six-” He started, eyes falling to your stomach still hidden behind the baggy article of clothing before you smoothed the fabric over your ever rounding bump. “Six months. Six…”

You let him do the maths in the head as he stared hard at your stomach like he was sitting in divination and it was a crystal ball that might just give him the answers if only he stared at it long enough.

“It’s mine?” He finally concluded.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“It’s mine. You’re pregnant, it’s mine.” He murmured, before his eyes met yours again. “You’re pregnant with my child?”

“Right.” You agreed, and he crumpled to a heap on the floor. 

“Sirius Orion Black,” Sirius heard Remus hiss, clearly hovering somewhere over him, “I swear to Godric if you do not wake up and eat some of this godsdamned vanilla cake you bought, your brother is going to skin you alive.” 

“It’s true.” James agreed from somewhere on Sirius’ other side. “He actually ran to the store when he found out you bought vanilla because he knew Remus wouldn’t eat any of it. Remus is going to get his chocolate cake, and you’re going to get egged.” 

“Shut up.” Sirius hissed as he scrunched his eyes closed. “Fuck.”

“How do you feel, mate?” James asked rather jovially as he clapped him roughy on the shoulder.

“Like hell.”

“Why’s that?” Remus joined in.

“Because I was in the middle of a dream and you sods woke me up going on about cake.” He muttered as he opened his eyes, realising then that he’d been propped up on a number of cushions in one of Lily and James’ spare rooms.

“S’he awake?” Lily whispered, and Sirius craned his neck to see you and Lily poke your heads into the room.

“Oh my gods.” Sirius breathed as he sat up, likely far too fast for someone who fell unconscious mere moments ago. “Oh my gods, you’re actually here?” 

“Did you hit your head, mate?” James asked as he prodded at Sirius’ head, causing Sirius to swat his arms away as he shifted towards the edge of the bed.

“You’re here.” He whispered as you slowly made your way into the room.

“I’m here.” You offered cautiously, eyes darting around at your oldest friends like there might be some secret threat lurking in the room.

“You’re pregnant…” He tried then, punching the air right out of Lily and James who both spun to stare at you in shock.

You smoothed the fabric of your shirt over your midsection again to expose a very obvious (now that everyone could actually see it) baby bump. 

“Oh my gods!” Lily and James chorused, causing Remus to snort.

“You knew, didn’t you!?” Lily accused Remus who held his hands up in surrender. 

“Only when she walked in, and not a second sooner.” 

“With my child.” Sirius continued, and you nodded at him. 

“Y/N.” Lily winced. “You-”

“You sodding scared me!” You shrilled then, grabbing one of the throw pillows James had dumped onto the ground to make room for Sirius and swinging it at him.

“I scared you!?” Sirius shrieked right back, much to the delight of Harry who started banging on the throw pillow that had landed beside him. 

“I thought I killed you!”

“Oh, well I’m terribly sorry that finding out the woman I’ve been in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months - who was missing for all intents and purposes, may I remind you - is pregnant with my child happened to be a little shocking.” Sirius sneered sarcastically. 

“Well I only went ‘missing’ because the man I’ve been hopelessly in love with for years and pining hopelessly over for months took off an-” The abrupt end of your statement nearly gave the room whiplash as you cut yourself off mid sentence and stared at Sirius like you’d never seen him before. 

“What…what just happened?” James whispered carefully.

“Years?” You whispered then, and Sirius hated every version of himself that deigned to let you go without knowing just how loved you were.

“Probably when we were still just cosmic dust.” Sirius smiled sadly. “I’m sorry I didn’t always realise, I’m sorry I didn’t make sure that you knew.”

“I take it to guess there isn’t an aunt in Killarney?” Lily offered then, smiling kindly at you when you turned your attention towards her.

“No, I- I think there actually is an aunt in Killarney, I just don’t live with her.”

“Where do you live?” Sirius asked eagerly, wondering if you could hear it in his voice or even see on his face just how desperate he was to know everything about you.

“Near Tintagel.” You offered abashedly as Remus slapped his hand on his thigh.

“You minx!” He scolded you. “You lived basically across the channel from me this whole time!”

“I hope it’s nice, wherever it is” You offered him then, smiling through your tears as Sirius swallowed around his bile threatening its way up his oesophagus.

“I hope it’s nice.” Sirius blurted suddenly, and Sirius thanked the heavens for Remus John Lupin who seemed to understand that the conversation delved beyond the need of an audience, scooping Harry up and closing the door behind Lily, James, and himself to give you two some privacy. 

“It’s nice.” You offered wetly. “It’s quiet.”

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement. “In Tintagel, near Merlin’s cave?”

You laughed, which saw Sirius smiling. “I’m not right in Tintagel, just outside. My neighbours are mostly sheep.” 

“Does it have a picket fence?”

“To keep the sheep out of my garden.” You nodded with a smile.

“Flowers; lots of them.” Sirius deduced, you nodded again though Sirius watched your smile falter.

“You’d probably hate it.”

“Are you there?” He asked quickly.

“Well, usually, yes.” You offered, and Sirius shrugged easily.

“Sounds as though it might be my favourite place in the world, then.” 

The next breath that left you shuddered on its way out, and Sirius finally stood and met you in the middle of the room; close enough to touch but not daring to. He hadn’t earned that right yet. 

“Take me with you?” He all but begged then, and your face crumpled in misery.

“Sirius, I don’t want you to follow me because you have to, I-”

“I don’t have to though, I know I don’t; I know you’d never make me.” He assured you then, lifting a hand but pausing to wait for you to nod at him before he placed it on your upper arm. “The letters, Y/N, I- I’ve been looking for you for months.”

A sob tore through you as you lowered your head, and Sirius allowed himself to catch it in his free hand. 

“I don’t want you to feel bad; I’m not telling you so that you feel bad, love.” The endearment falling off his tongue so easily now that he had you in his arms. “But I need you to know that I want you - any of you, all of you - and have for a very long time.” 

“It’s just…you said-” and Sirius knew exactly what he said; he had played that conversation over and over and over in his mind until he found himself sick over it more than once. But we waited for you to tell him anyhow; he’d always wait for you. “You couldn’t settle down and be content, you couldn’t play house; you weren’t that kind of guy.” 

“I know, doll. I know.” He whispered. “I…I didn’t think I was capable of it. I didn’t think I deserved everything I wanted and I knew that you deserved better. That you deserve better.”

“But?”

“But I’d be happy to spend the rest of my life trying to prove you otherwise; trying to give you everything you deserve.”

“Sirius…” You sighed, and Sirius could see your walls cracking. “I…I’m-”

“Take me home? Please?” He begged then, words interrupted by a sob of his own. “To Tintagel, to Killarney, to bloody fucking Azkaban or the bottom of the sodding ocean, I don’t care where it is just as long as it’s with you, please. Please.”

Your hands landed on Sirius’ chest and he was sure you could feel his hummingbird heart beating under your fingertips. He only hoped you knew how it beat for you. 

“Please bring me home?”

James didn’t know if he could consider this a success or not. 

His motivation was not singular; it was a ‘hit two fairies with one gobstone’ sort of scenario, so to speak. Was his son turning two? Indeed he was! Was James throwing a party for said son’s birthday? You’re damned right he was. But was it also a really good excuse to force two of his idiot best friends into the same room again? Absolutely.

Except James seems to have gotten slightly more than he bargained for; Sirius falling unconscious in his childhood backyard, you sobbing into Lily’s shoulder out in the hallway as he and Remus tried to bring him back from the dead, Remus sneering at a slice of birthday cake like it personally offended him and Regulus threatening to defend his boyfriend’s honour, and - apparently - a new niece or nephew coming in the next three-ish months. 

But when he looked over to see you and Sirius emerging from the spare room - both of your faces tear stained and puffy from the grief and torment you no doubt put yourselves through - hands intertwined between your bodies and your hand resting protectively over your growing bump, and a spark in Sirius’ eyes James had thought he lost in the war but now realised he only lost when he lost you…

…yeah, James figured he could probably consider this a success.

[waterthatsmoe]

"Do you regret it?"

"It's for the best."

"Do you miss them?"

"I'll never forget this ache for the rest of my life."

Part 4 [end] | Part 3 [prev]

[incognit0slut]

was i stupid to love you?

in which a lingering glance at Rossi’s wedding threatens your engagement.

content: angst, 4.8k, takes place right after truth or dare (14x15), a lot of dialogue, mention of prison arc, emotional distress, relationship conflict, not proofread a/n: when was the last time you saw me write angst? exactly. this is inspired by malcolm & marie bc i really like the idea of having an argument while moving around the house (also disclaimer i have nothing against JJ i just like being dramatic)

The lock clicks open. The door swings with a creak. Your heels tap against the hardwood in a hollow rhythm that feels almost too loud. There’s a tightness in your chest, that prickling behind your eyes, and a familiar ache pressing up from the pit of your stomach, churning into a faint nausea that you try to ignore. You’re trying to hold it back.

Not here.

Not now.

Spencer doesn’t even look up. The keys slip from his hand with a soft clink as they hit the side table, and he turns away with a quiet sigh that reverberates deep in your bones.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, tossing a glance toward the kitchen. “Think we could order something?”

You trail after him, the sharp click of your heels echoing as you step onto the kitchen tile. “We just came back from a wedding.”

He’s rifling through the cupboard, his fingers brushing over the mismatched mugs and neatly stacked plates before he pulls down two glasses. “I barely ate anything at the reception.”

You watch him, biting back a response as memories flicker to mind. The slice of cake he’d poked at absentmindedly, washing it down with sips of water instead of real food.

It wasn’t hunger he seemed focused on tonight. No, it was his quiet glances across the room you keep on catching from the corner of your eye, and that conversation he’d had at the bar. The one where his posture softened, his gaze so intent you’d found yourself staring at the back of his head, trying not to read too much into it—and obviously failing.

“Why didn’t you eat?”

He shrugs, his back still to you as he fills the glasses with water. “I don’t know,” he says, sounding almost absent, like it’s something he hasn’t really thought about. “I didn’t get around to it, I guess.”

The muscles in your jaw ticks as you bite the inside of your cheeks.

Spencer turns, offering you a glass. “I was thinking of Chinese, or maybe we can check if that Thai place you like is still open.”

You take the glass from him, barely sparing it a glance before setting it back down on the counter. “Whatever you want is fine.”

A subtle crease appears between his brows. “You sure? You usually have some opinion when it comes to food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You don’t want to eat anything?”

You suppress a sigh. "No. I'm tired."

The soft amber of his eyes dims slightly as he studies you. There's a flicker of uncertainty passing through them before he nods. “Alright,” he concedes. “We don’t have to order anything.”

A faint, humorless laugh escapes you before you can stop it. It tastes bitter, a little unfair, but it slips out before you can pull it back, “You don’t have to change your plans on my account, Spencer.”

“I’m not changing any plans,” he responds. “I’m just making sure you have something to eat in case you’re hungry.”

Your shoes dig uncomfortably into your feet. You shift your weight, starting to pace a few steps back and forth. "It's dinner, you don't have to check on me for every little thing. Do whatever you like."

He blinks, looking genuinely perplexed. "What are you saying? I was trying to be considerate."

"Right. Considerate.”

There’s an unmistakable bite in your tone.

“Yes, because we like doing these things together," he observes, watching your uneasy pacing. "Am I missing something here?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

"Honey."

The term of endearment lands softly, slipping from his lips like he believes it has the power to melt whatever tension has suddenly crept between you. But it only tightens the knot building in your stomach. It’s stirring the words you’re trying to hold back, tangling them somewhere between your chest and throat.

He calls your name this time, his eyes narrowing into sharp lines. “You’ve been awfully quiet on our way home, and now you’re… honestly, I don’t know why you're acting this way.” His voice dips with a tinge of exasperation. "What’s this really about?"

The words you’ve been biting back feel like a stack of stones in your throat, rising up, up, up, each one pressed tighter by the gnawing nausea in your stomach. You can feel them gathering, and before you know it, they tumble out messily.

“I’m just saying, don’t let me hold you back from getting what you want. I wouldn’t want to stop you from anything—or, god forbid," you add, letting your gaze drift away as if a little distance might soften the blow, “anyone.”

The soft, almost stifled inhale he takes is audible. You don’t even have to look up to see his expression shifting. You’ve known him long enough to recognize the way his shoulders tense, the way his breathing slows as he processes your words. You know his reaction by heart, yet right now, you wonder if saying this was a mistake, if this is the start of something neither of you can take back.

His fingers twitching at his side slip into your line of sight. He's angry.

Maybe this isn’t the time to start a fight.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Your heels click softly as you turn.

“Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything,” you mutter, already moving toward the bedroom that’s been yours, too, for the past year. Although it feels strange tonight, like a space that belongs to someone else. A life you’re not entirely sure you belong in.

“No." His voice is somewhere behind you. “I think you should explain to me what you mean by that.”

You don’t respond, choosing instead to sink onto the edge of the bed, hands fumbling as you try to undo the straps of your heels. You twist the stubborn leather with more force. His shadow fills the doorway.

“Honey.”

Not again.

You decide to ignore him.

“Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

You tug harder at the strap. “No.”

He doesn’t buy it. “You’re clearly bothered by something.”

You shake your head, fingers still fumbling, the leather cutting against your ankle with each pull. “I’m just tired. Can we leave it at that?”

There’s a flicker of frustration in his gaze now, a crease forming between his brows as he studies you. He moves into the room. You barely have the chance to react before he lowers himself, bending one knee to the floor as he reaches toward the strap you’ve been fighting with. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt, pulling your foot away. “I can do it myself.”

“I know you can. But let me—”

“I can do it myself!”

Your heartbeat thuds loud in your ears, each pulse feeding the frustration that’s wound its way up from your chest. He rises slowly, not a word passing his lips, but the tension radiates off him like heat. He’s close enough that his warmth presses against your skin, although it’s not the kind you usually find comforting. It’s almost suffocating.

You turn your focus back to the stubborn strap, your fingers trembling slightly as you struggle to grip it. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him slipping off his shoes, one after the other, the soft thuds barely audible over the rush of your own heartbeat. He pulls off his suit jacket, carefully smoothing the crumpled fabric before hanging it in the closet. For a moment, it seems like he’s going to let it go… until his gaze drifts back to you.

You can tell his patience is fraying, and you’re proven right when he asks again, “What did you mean by that? When you said you wouldn’t want to stop me from anyone… what was that supposed to mean?”

You finally manage to tug the strap loose. The heel drops to the floor with a muted thump. “It was nothing.”

“I don’t think you’d say something like that if it was nothing.”

Your focus shifts to the other shoe. “Just drop it, Spencer.”

"How am I supposed to drop it when you're implying... whatever it is you're implying?"

You keep your eyes down, wrestling with the strap in silence. He cuts through the quiet before it has a chance to grow.

“Don’t do that,” he says. “Don’t brush it off like it’s nothing when it clearly means something. I need to know why you said that.”

You kick off the other heel and meet his gaze for the first time since you walked into the room. “You really want to know?”

He reaches for his bow tie, yanking it loose it with one hard pull. “Do I want to know why you’re giving me this attitude right now? Yes. Yes, I do.”

Oh. So this is going to be that kind of fight.

You hadn’t expected it to go here. Fights with Spencer are very rare, usually more a clash of misunderstandings that you both laugh about with limbs tangled between sheets by the time you’ve made peace. But seeing him standing there with the tie hanging loosely around his neck and his five o’clock shadow casting an even darker line along his jaw, it hits you differently.

This is real. And this time, you don’t know if brushing it off will fix anything.

“Fine, let’s talk about it then.” You rise from the bed, tension carrying you to your feet. “Emily’s speech tonight.”

His brow furrows, not quite a scowl, more a cautious crease as he processes your tone. “Emily’s speech? What about it?”

“What do you remember of it?”

There’s a slight pause, and you can tell he's clearly caught off guard by the question. “She mentioned how Rossi and Krystal are twin flames."

“Right. Two souls that are always meant to be together.”

His face is still marked by confusion, but there’s something else creeping in. A subtle tightening around his eyes tells you he’s starting to piece it together. “I don’t understand what that has to do with—”

“You looked at JJ the second Emily made that speech,” you cut him off. “Spencer, you didn’t even spare a glance at your future wife because you were too busy making eyes at the woman who’s apparently been in love with you all these years.”

There. You said it. The words that have twisted around your insides all evening are finally out. And maybe they taste a little bitter, but at least they're not choking you anymore.

A second passes, then another, and by the time the fifth heartbeat ticks by, he’s standing there with his hand on his hip.

“That’s not what happened."

“Then what was it?” you demand. "I sat beside you the whole day, you didn't even try to hide it."

“That’s not—you’re twisting things.” His hand moves through his hair, fingers digging in as his curls tumble forward onto his forehead. “And you know what happened that night wasn’t real. It was a forced confession. She was under duress, we both were. JJ and I are just friends.”

You arch an eyebrow. “You look at all your friends like that?”

His hand drops to his side. "I don't know what else you want me to say. JJ said what she did because she thought we might die. She has a family, and a husband who she loves. We already went through this, I don't understand why this is suddenly an issue again."

“Maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up if you didn’t look at her tonight like you were ready to break up that marriage yourself.”

A flash of shock and anger crosses his features.

“That’s not fair,” he snaps, his voice sharper than you’ve heard in a while. “Do you really think I’d disregard everything I have with you because of a look? Because of a history that has never gone anywhere?”

“I don’t know what to think. It's not like it happened just once, I saw you looking at her the same way at the bar." You step forward, accidentally kicking your discarded heel as you move. "What were you two talking about, anyway?”

He lets out a tight breath. “She was checking in on me. She… we haven’t talked much since then.”

The corners of your mouth pull down. “Mhm. Another round of truth or dare?”

“I can’t believe you’re using that against me." His hair flops forward as he shakes his head, falling messily over his brow. "If there were anything unresolved with JJ, I would’ve said something. But I didn’t, because there’s nothing there."

“And yet, she’s always been an important part of your life, hasn't she?"

He tilts his head. "What are trying to say now?"

Your tongue darts out, briefly brushing your lips. You're not sure you should say it, but it feels like a door has swung open—a door to words that have been waiting for their moment.

You take a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with as much air as you can.

“When you were in prison, you put her on your visiting list ahead of almost everyone else. Doesn’t that say something about where she stands with you?”

He exhales sharply, dragging a hand over the back of his neck.

“She’s part of the team,” he says, as if he’s trying to spell out something he’s already explained a dozen times. "There were strict rules, I already told you that only a handful of people were allowed to visit. It wasn’t like I could just put anyone on the list.”

“But you could’ve put me on there!”

The familiar burn of tears prickles at the edges of your eyes, but you blink them back, refusing to let them fall. An explanation or protest is poised on his lips, but you’re already moving, closing the distance with a single, decisive step. A finger lands on his chest.

“I was your girlfriend, Spencer. Were you that determined to keep me out? Was the thought of seeing me really so unbearable? Do you even understand how hard it was to sit at home, knowing you were locked up, feeling completely helpless? Do you have any idea how much I hated myself day after day because I couldn’t do anything to help you?”

Your lips quiver. You feel like your heart is about to leap out of your throat.

“I was out here, just… waiting. Wondering if you were okay, if they were treating you alright, if you even had someone to talk to. And meanwhile, she’s there, with you. Every single time, she’s the one who gets to be by your side.”

Your nail digs into the fabric of his shirt.

“So forgive me if I can’t just let that go. Because when it mattered, it felt like you didn’t want me to be there for you. And now… now I don’t even know if you need me the way you seem to need her.”

Your breathing turns shallow, each inhale catching in your chest. The tears you’ve been holding back are dangerously blurring your vision. You swallow the knot lodged in your throat.

“I need a minute.”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, leaving him standing there in stunned silence. You slip back into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as you finally reach for the glass of water that’s been sitting there untouched. You take a sip, barely feeling the cool water on your lips, when you hear his footsteps behind you.

“You think I don’t want you in my life?” he demands. “You think I somehow need her more than I need you?”

You set the glass down. “What part of ‘I need a minute’ do you not understand?”

“You really expect me to wait quietly after you unloaded every doubt you’ve ever had about us?”

You life your chin up. “Yes, I do. I need space to think right now.”

“What more do you want to think about when you’ve already convinced yourself that I’m always going to fall short? Is it so hard to believe that you’re the one I want?”

“You want to know why it’s so damn hard to believe?” You turn towards him. “Because every time I try to let this go, there’s always something. A confession. That—that not-so-subtle look. And when those things happen, it reminds me that I’m not as close to you as she is. I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m fighting for space in your life.”

“Do you think I want you to feel like that? Do you think I’d go through everything we’ve been through if you didn’t matter to me?”

“Then explain to me why I wasn’t on that list!” you cry out. “Explain to me why, in one of the hardest times of your life, you couldn’t make space for me?”

“Because I was trying to protect you!”

A heavy, dreadful silence falls between you. He takes a step back, his eyelids fluttering shut briefly, and when he opens them again, there’s a softness in his gaze that mirrors the gentleness now threading through his voice.

“I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, and maybe it never will, but I couldn’t stand the idea of you seeing me like that. Living through it was hard enough, but having you there, seeing me so helpless… It would have crushed me. I didn’t want that to be your memory of me.”

His Adam’s apple dips as he swallows, a quick, almost anxious movement you’ve witnessed countless times.

“And when JJ came to see me,” he continues, “the way the inmates looked at her, the things they said after she left… it was disgusting. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let that happen to you. I couldn’t live with thought of you being subjected to that because of me.”

You lower your head with a sigh. “I don’t care if they looked. I don’t care what they would’ve thought.”

“But I care,” he fires back, taking a step forward. “Because you mean more to me than anyone. All I wanted was to keep you safe, and maybe I didn't handle it right, maybe I made the wrong call... but it was only because I—" His voice drops into an even more gentle note. "Because I love you."

Your heart stumbles, an uneven beat that feels almost bruised, pounding hard against your ribs.

"I-I love you so much. More than I know how to put into words." The ache in your chest sharpens as his hands come up to cup your cheeks. "I don't like fighting with you. I hate it, actually. I hate seeing you look at me like this."

You also hate the way he’s looking at you. There’s a depth to his annoyingly pretty eyes that makes it impossible to hold up your defenses without feeling them crumble. You let your eyes flutter closed.

“Why don’t we… call it a night?” He suggests. “Let’s lie down. We don’t have to talk about this now.”

The blackness behind your eyelids does little to quiet your mind. Nor does his voice. Or his touch. Instead of offering peace, his presence throws every glance, every moment of tension from tonight into sharper relief.

You draw in a breath, trying to find some comfort in his palms against your cheeks. Yet, even this can’t smooth away the doubt that’s settled in. With a resigned sigh, you release the breath you’ve been holding along with the words that have been pressing at the back of your throat.

“You haven’t explained it to me.”

The shadows in his gaze seem to deepen when you open your eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve been going in circles, but you haven’t explained to me what happened tonight,” you say quietly. “Why did you look at her, Spencer?”

His thumb absently strokes your cheek in a way that feels more hesitant than reassuring.

“Be honest with me,” you press. “Was there a part of you, even the tiniest part, that still wanted something with her? Some small part of you that… wondered what it might be like?”

The silence between you presses in from all sides, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator and the distant, muffled ticking of a clock on the wall. It’s the kind of quiet that sharpens even the smallest sounds, yet his lack of response feels like the loudest thing of all.

You pull back from him with an incredulous laugh.

“Unbelievable.” The word barely makes it past your lips, then louder as you start to move, pacing the length of the apartment. “Unbelievable.”

“Wait,” he says, trailing after you, “I didn’t even say anything.”

You stop short by the couch and whip around to face him.

“You didn’t need to! You—you hesitated," you stammer, searching his face for any flicker of denial, but it’s there, plain as day, that split-second of doubt you caught. “That was already an answer.”

He inches closer. A hand closes in on you. “Please—”

You flinch, pulling back, and every muscle in your body tightens. “Don’t. Don’t touch me right now.”

His hand falls to his side. “Please… let me explain."

You watch his hand drop, fingers twitching like they’re not sure if they should retreat or reach out again, but he keeps them there, hovering in some invisible line you’ve drawn. He looks at you with those big, pleading eyes, and for a split second, you almost feel bad for him.

Almost.

A bitter sort of smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. "So now you want to explain?"

He takes that as permission, and his voice comes in low, almost cautious. "When I first started at the BAU, I had… maybe a crush. A passing thing, barely anything, really. But that was fourteen years ago.” His hand scrubs through his hair in a frustrated sweep. “Fourteen years."

Your brows pull into a frown. “Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“Because it was nothing,” he says, almost too quickly. “I was young, it didn’t matter. I didn’t think it was worth bringing up.”

“Oh, I get it now. All those old feelings came rushing back the night she confessed, didn’t they?”

He mirrors your frown, a visible line of tension etching itself between his brows as he protests, “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is it?” you press. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a whole lot like you’re caught between us because some part of you is still hung up on what might’ve been with her."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you notice the muscles in his jaw clenching the moment his gaze falters, dipping away for just a heartbeat before he looks back at you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I want,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t expect her to say those things, and, yes, it threw me off for a moment. But that doesn’t mean I’m looking back, or that I want her. I want you.”

You shake your head, feeling a tired sort of frustration settle over you, and walk over to the couch. The soft cushions give slightly beneath you as you sink down.

“If you really wanted me, this wouldn’t be happening. You wouldn’t have let her get into your head like that. And now, you expect to believe that none of it meant anything?”

He’s quick to follow, closing the distance in a few tense steps. “It’s not—” His hands flex open and close at his sides. “You’re acting like one single look tonight is enough to decide I’m not committed to you. Do you really think I’d let some confession I didn’t even ask for get in the way of what we have?”

“It’s not just about that single look. It’s the way she could say something and suddenly, you’re pulled back to something you swore you’d put behind you. How am I supposed to feel secure when she still has that power over you?”

“And what am I supposed to do, then? Apologize for things I don’t even feel anymore?”

You flinch at the sharpness in his voice. A low, frustrated noise rumbles in his chest when you don’t respond.

“You’re always going to question me no matter what I say, aren’t you?"

You glance over at him, catching the disheveled strands of hair falling over his forehead, and it pulls you back to that night he came home after that dreadful night. He’d walked in looking worn in a way you’d never seen before, his whole posture weighted down as if he was carrying more than just the fear of being held hostage.

You remember sitting with him on this same couch, fingers brushing his, and asking what was bothering him.

JJ said she loved me.

Your heart lurched, a quick, quiet ache that you tried to swallow down. Really?

Don’t worry. It’s not true.

But with that same haunted look in his eyes right now, you can’t help but wonder if it really was just a well-intentioned lie.

“One glance and you’re accusing me of things that are never going to happen,” he starts again. “Do you really think so little of me? After everything we’ve shared, you really think I’d betray you like that?”

In true honesty, you don’t believe he would ever cross that line. But the doubts still linger, fed by those small hesitations, the moments when his eyes seem somewhere else. It’s not that you think he’d betray you. It’s that a part of him might still be holding onto something he won’t let you see.

“It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

Now those words you might actually believe.

“Maybe I don’t,” you say quietly, eyes drifting to the ring on your finger. You twist it absently, remembering the night he proposed. How he’d stumbled over his words, his cheeks flushing as he tried to make the moment perfect but ended up rambling in that endearing, nervous way of his. You’d laughed, reassured him that it was exactly right, that you didn’t need grand gestures. All you needed was him.

And yet, you don’t think he needs you as much you need him.

A hollow ache settles around your hand as you slip the ring off.

“What are you doing?”

You stare down at the gold band in your palm, blinking back the sting of tears.

“Tell me what you’re doing.”

Panic. Desperation. There’s a sudden rush of melancholy in his voice, a heaviness that wasn’t there a moment ago.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “I don’t know,” you whisper. “I—I don’t know anything right now.”

His face crumples, and in a sudden, almost instinctive movement, he drops down to his knees.

“No, no, you do know me. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. Isn’t this—” he stops, then dips his head, trying to catch your gaze. “Isn’t that what couples do? They argue, they mess things up… but they work through it, right? Right?”

You look down, feeling the cool weight of the ring pressing into your skin.

“Spencer…” you begin. “I trust you. I do, and I’m sorry if I made it seem like I didn’t. But… I need to feel secure. I… I need to know that I don’t have to wonder or worry about where I stand. I never thought you’d be the one to make me doubt that.”

There’s a sharp ache in your chest.

“I didn’t think it could hurt this much. Not from you.”

Your pulse ring in your ear.

“I can’t—” The words catch in your throat, a stinging burn rising as you force them out. “I can’t be your wife when I’m constantly questioning if I have all of you. When I feel like… there’s always a part of you that isn’t mine.”

“I’m yours, honey. I’m always yours.”

“I wish I could believe that.”

There’s a slight falter in his voice. “Don’t—please don’t do this—”

“I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t hurt.”

He falls silent, and for a moment, the only sound is the rough, uneven rhythm of both your breaths filling the space between you. Then, like something inside him finally cracks open, he sinks down, pressing his forehead against your lap. The sudden weight of him forces a broken sob from your throat.

“Please,” he begs, fingers clutching at your sides. His chin presses deep into your thigh. “Tell me how to fix this. I can’t— I can’t lose you.”

“Spence…”

“I love you,” he blurts out, the words tumbling from him in a rush. “I love you.”

But what is love, really? Is it just a word people reach for when they’ve run out of things to say, a way to patch over bruised hearts and broken promises? Or should it feel like something more solid, something that doesn’t leave you questioning or aching? You can’t even tell anymore.

You wonder, too, if maybe you’ve been wrong all along. If this feeling in your chest isn’t love but something dressed up as it, something that fills the gaps while slowly hollowing you out. Because here you are, clinging to a love that somehow makes you feel like you’re both needed and unseen. Everything and nothing all at once.

You feel like a fool.

“I want to go to bed.”

His head lifts from your lap, a flash of surprise darting across his face, as though he hadn’t expected you to say anything at all, let alone that. “Yeah, okay, let’s go to bed. We’ll… we’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“I’d rather be alone.”

The words hit him visibly. His mouth opens, an argument forming there, but he catches himself, letting the silence stretch before he nods slowly.

“Then… I’ll stay out here. On the couch,” he offers softly. “Just… in case you need anything.”

A pang cuts through you at the thought of him stretched out on the couch, his legs too long, his shoulders folded in to fit the cramped space. But the idea of sharing a bed right now feels impossible.

You reach down, holding out the ring towards him.

“No,” he says firmly, gently pushing your hand away. “Don’t do that. This… it doesn’t mean we’re giving up. It just means we need time. That’s all.”

You’re not sure if your mind will change in the morning. The ring presses into your skin, but finally, you close your hand around it, nodding faintly before you peel away from him.

The tears start the moment the bedroom door clicks shut behind you. It spills over in a jagged, helpless cry that sounds nothing like you imagined heartbreak might sound. It’s messy, a kind of aching grief that feels too big for your chest, clawing its way out with no grace at all. You can practically hear how pathetic you sound, and yet you can’t seem to stop.

Even when the hem of your dress trails across the floor. Even when you finally collapse onto his side of the bed. There’s no stopping you. With the ring sitting cold in your hand, your tears keep coming, soaking into the pillow as you cling to the last trace of him woven into the sheets.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Friendship never dies in FNAF..

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[amberjazmyn]

grievances💔🫶

pairing : oscar piastri x piastri!fem reader x fem!reader

summary : oscar piastri's first wife nichola piastri dies during the childbirth of their fifth and final child. oscar moves on and starts falling in love with cecelia, the best friend of the piastri family.

warnings : emotions, death from childbirth, hospitals, flashbacks, gets happier towards the end

a/n : this will be the first time i write something angsty for oscar, and i feel like i should apologise but it's time a different driver gets the punch of angst since it's almost always lando, charles, carlos or max. also, the names of the kids are as follows in age order, jazmyne (15 to 17), elena (15 to 17), noah (8 to 10), logan (7 to 9) and lennon (baby) is the newborn.

a/n : and yes, it would physically impossible for oscar to have this many kids at the age he's at now but ignore that part of it lol. and also, jazmyne and elena ages go from 15 to 18 in this so i have changed it to them being sisters of nichola that they adopted so that's why the ages don't match up so oscar and nichola's biological kids are noah, logan and lennon but they adopted the sisters of nichola.

fc : for first wife, nichola, will be lily zneimer to imagine and second wife, cecelia, will be girly's from pinterest

two years ago | oscar's pov

jazmyne, the younger sister of my wife was stirring in my lap as her head lay there as the rest of her body was spread out on a couple of hospital waiting room chairs. trying to get her to sleep even though i knew, despite her being my sister-in-law that nichola and i adopted as our legal kids, she hated sleeping in the hospital. which, in turn, was very different to the rest of her siblings, her twin sister elena and her two younger brothers noah and logan. however, i knew i couldn't leave nichola, my wife and the mother of my now five kids. just in case nichola woke up, i didn't want her to wake up on her own, especially considering she's just given birth to our brand new baby girl, lennon grace, i didn't want her to freak out and wonder where everyone was.

just as a backstory, i have five kids with nichola, jazmyne amber and elena nicole are fifteen and are twin sisters and the younger sisters of nichola that we adopted way before we even considered having our own children. noah jack is the first baby of ours that nichola and i had together after we had had jazmyne and elena with us for a couple of years and he has just recently turned eight, logan michael was our second child and he is seven and lennon grace, is our third biological child but the fifth overall who was just born a couple of hours ago. and during nichola's pregnancy with lennon, it was quite dangerous but, we were told that once nichola had actually given birth to lennon that everything would be fine. and that, maybe, hopefully, we'd still get my wife back afterwards.

how long we'd have to wait until we got the all-clear to drive back to monte-carlo from montmartre, france, i'd spend it waiting here in this very hospital waiting room just to make sure that the love of my life was okay. i know much the teenagers despises the hospital and, i feel awful that i'm doing this, i truly do but, we were the only family of nichola's that was close enough to make sure she was okay. cecelia, a best friend of nichola and myself was also with us as she helped jaz, elena and myself take care of noah, logan and baby lennon when we had visiting hours to check in on nichola.

"...jazz, please, babe, can you try to get some sleep? it's nearly midnight, can you at least try for me? please?" i cry out in distress, whilst elena, my two boys and lennon were all fast asleep in the hospital bed that was in the room we had been provided, jazzy just couldn't - and i knew it was because of how terrified she was of hospitals but, i just needed to get jazz off to sleep

"no, oscar. i don't like it here! i want nichola to wake up and for us to go back home. i just want to be back home in monaco with you, nichola, elena, noah, logan and baby lennon!" jazz tiredly cries into my chest and hearing her say that as my fifteen-year-old girl makes my heart shatter even more   

"jazzy, baby, i know you want to be home, i do too but, we just can't. not whilst nichola is in the state she's in, we need your sister to get better. maybe if i place you with elena you'll sleep?" i tried, usually if jazzy slept with elena, she was able to fall asleep at the click of a finger, pulling her closer to my bare chest as i tried to get her to sleep - a knock at the door gains our attention

it was cecelia, she had a small but exhausted smile on her face, and her hair was still done up in the braids that jazzy had done earlier in the morning before nichola had given birth to lennon. 

"hey osc, hey jazzy," she spoke quietly so as not to wake up elena and the two boys as jazz and i smiled back, both of us responding 

"hey cece," "hey lia" 

cecelia smiled, running her finger through jazz's hair and then her hands through mine as jazz was still resting against my chest. her legs most likely going numb from not having any movement for the past few hours.

"osc, the nurses are suggesting it's probably about time you, jazz, elena, noah and logan go back home, the last i heard, i think your mum has been trying to get ahold of you. and, before you even think to argue with me oscar jack, i've already agreed on staying here with lando's girlfriend overnight for the rest of the week to see if nichola wakes up and to also help take care of baby lennon. besides, despite the fact you think you're hiding this pretty well, i damn well know how badly you're also wanting to be back home in monaco. come on osc, listen to your eldest child and go home! i've already spoken to zac and andrea as well as your closest f1 friends and they are just as worried about nichola as you are! i promise if they are any, and i mean any updates about nichola, you are the first person i'm calling, okay?" cecelia hadn't ever been so stern with me before but, i knew she was right and i knew i shouldn't have been ignoring jazmyne in the way i had been so, i agreed, knowing that nichola was going to be safe with cecelia and lando's girlfriend

"fine, but you...you promise if anything changes or happens, you ring me?" i double-check as my voice shakes, cecelia comes closer, grabbing a tight hold of my hand as i jolt slightly, letting jazz slide off my lap as she gets her hoodie and then goes to wake up her sister and two brothers and cecelia nods her head 

"i pinky swear osc! anything that changes or what have you, you are the first person i'm ringing whether nichola's parents or nicole like it or not!" cecelia spoke firmly as i nodded my head, believing her as i then slipped my own hoodie on considering i had been shirtless the whole time

i then grabbed logan out of jazz's grip as she still held noah tightly as he lay asleep on her shoulder, elena holding jazz's free hand, giving cecelia a hug as we then walked out of the hospital room, elena holding onto our overnight bag on her shoulders. 

🥀

for three days, jazmyne, elena, noah, logan and i had now been home in monaco and still, we hadn't received any texts or calls from either cecelia or lando's girlfriend in regards to nichola and her current state, it honestly scared me. and i hadn't even realised i had been so silent until lando, my fellow mclaren teammate, had come over to ask why jazmyne was crying whilst my other three children were perfectly fine. 

"...hey, osco, why's jazmyne crying...oscar!" lando went to ask me why jazz had been crying when he realised i zoned out 

"huh?" i responded as lando sighed, he knew, the whole of f1, and our teammates knew how worried i've been about nichola and the two boys that, i just haven't really been able to concentrate or really focus on anything as i'd usually be able to 

"osc, we all know you're worried about nichola and the other kids but, what about jazz, she's your kid too. sure, she's nichola's younger sister but she's still your kid. she's just as worried about her sister then you are. yes, she's the eldest but, that makes no difference! she's been crying for the past five minutes, i can't even calm her down, and neither can elena, max or charles. and that isn't normal at all, osc! please, help calm your daughter down oscar, she needs you due to the fact that her sister is sick and in the hospital right now, and apart from us, her uncles and aunties, you're the only parent she has right now!" lando spoke softly but sternly with a sad look in his eyes considering nichola, my wife, was also good friends with lando as i gulped, nodding my head, he's right, i can't be selfish and ignore jazmyne just because she's the eldest 

"sorry lando," i sniffled, finally letting myself have a cry as well, lando sighed sadly and sat next to me to calm me down

"oscar, don't apologise, your wife is in the hospital after giving birth to another wonderful baby girl after we all thought she was in the clear. it is totally normal and okay to cry and worry but, don't let that worry consume you. especially when you have four other kids, most especially your two fifteen-year-olds to look after as well," lando spoke softly and comfortingly as he rubbed my back 

agreeing with lando, i nodded my head, wiping away my tears with my hoodie sleeve and was when jazmyne came in front of me. although she was fifteen, she climbed into my lap, she still felt like a little kid around me but we had no care in the world considering she was nichola and i's, first kid, although only after we adopted her due to their parents no longer able to look after the twins. 

"osc...is, is nichola gonna be okay? is she gonna wake up?" jazmyne sniffled as i gulped, biting my lip, doing whatever it was i could in stopping my own tears from falling in front of my eldest as i just hugged her tighter, pulling her closer as lando just watched on 

"of course, she will jazz, it just takes time okay? but i promise you, she'll wake up and when she does, we can have lennon come home with her as well and we'll all be one big happy family..." i said with a shaky voice as jazmyne smiled which made me smile although i was just as scared and uncertain as jazmyne was about nichola waking up 

present-day | oscar's pov

"...oscar, why did you lie to me when you said that nichola was going to wake up and that lennon was going to come home with us?!" jazmyne suddenly screeched, i felt the tears in the back of my eyes as i was taken aback 

the last time jazmyne screamed at me was when she was still trying to come to terms with that she had lost her older sister when she was fifteen years old alongside the rest of her siblings.

"i...i, jazz..." just as i went to explain to her with everyone watching the two of us, jazmyne screams once more and then runs, storms upstairs to her room and slams the door shut as it frightens everyone due to the loud noise it made 

"...just shut up oscar! i hate you! i hate cecelia! i hate everyone in this goddamn house! i just want my sister back! why is that so hard to understand?!" she screams as she then runs upstairs to her room after which she slams her door shut, all of us left jumping in fear 

as soon as jazmyne's door slams shut, a sob comes out of nowhere and left my mouth as i sunk from my standing position to the floor below, my legs not able to hold the weight of my body up anymore. 

"oh...oscar..." cecelia whispered as she ran over to comfort me and the tears don't stop, and neither do the loud wails that caused my entire body to shake 

cecelia pulls me into her arms and i cried into her chest as she tries to get me to calm down, i look up to notice lando and max both agreed to go upstairs to see jazmyne as it had all of a sudden gone quiet. thanking every god i could think of that charles and his girlfriend were distracting elena, noah, logan and lennon otherwise i'd rather die right now than see my other kids see their older sister in this sort of state. 

"ssh, it's okay osc, let it all out. lando and max have gone upstairs to see if jazz is okay. everything is going to be fine, babe. i know you miss nichola, and so do i but, we have to be as strong as we can for the kids, okay?" cecelia sternly spoke as i nodded my head, sniffling as i got up off the floor and the both of us followed lando and max up the stairs to jazmyne's room 

cecelia and i had made it to jazmyne's room where the door was closed. giving us the obvious that lando and max had gotten through to her somehow and got her to allow them to talk to her. 

lando's pov

"...jazmyne, we know how much you're missing your sister. trust me, she was my best friend and i miss nichola, as does everyone. however, what you just said to oscar was not nice, okay? you made him really upset, you really gave him a fright when you yelled at him as well," softly, i reached my hand over to my niece who gulped, finally lifting her head up, making me smile in slight shock that i got through to her so quickly 

then, jazmyne finally, lifted her head up and her face was littered with tears. i shared a sad look with max as i had to figure this out. 

"i...i'm sorry uncle lando but, i...i really miss nichola! i mean, cecelia's great, i really do love her but, knowing that she's nichola's best friend just makes it hurt even more and i..." before jazmyne could continue, max shushed her and calmed her down 

"...shh, jazz, it's okay schat, we all know how much you're missing your sister, we all miss her just as much *soft giggle* however, as uncle lando said, you shouldn't have yelled at oscar like that. he is also still grieving the loss of your sister as well as trying to balance five kids on his own and having you yelling at him, telling him that you hate him isn't going to bring your sister back now is it?" max was also soft but fatherly in his tone, sitting in front of jazz, sitting criss-cross as she gulped, shaking her head no - it was shocking that max was getting through to jazmyne the way he was 

"no," she responded as she pressed her hands together, noticing how sweaty they were as i rubbed her back, giving me a small smile and then giving one to max

"exactly jazz so, we're gonna stand up and just right outside, cecelia and oscar are waiting and you're going to apologise and give oscar the biggest hug ever because he really needs it. he misses nichola so much and, you are one of five remaining things he's got left of your sister alongside your siblings so, make sure you hug him as tightly as you can!" max said with a small smile as jazmyne nodded her head, making max and i smile - yes, we actually got through to her!

we then all stood up as jazmyne opened the door, cecelia and oscar were outside waiting as jazmyne ran straight over to oscar as he catches her. straight away, they both broke down into tears as i bit my lip, stopping myself from crying.

"i...i'm so sorry oscar! i...i don't hate you, i just really miss nichola and with her not being here, it just hurts. and, i'm sorry to you as well, cecelia. i don't hate you either, it's just, knowing you are nichola's best friend makes it hurt even more as it reminds me all the time of what i've lost and it...it scares me that i'm gonna lose you and i...i don't want that," jazmyne sobs out into oscar's shoulder as i share a look with max as we sigh quietly - jazmyne was still learning about what grief was and how to deal with it all

"thank you for apologising jazzy but, it is okay. i know you don't hate me because i understand that this is all due to you missing your sister. i miss her too, we all do. but, please, don't yell at me like that ever again, okay? if you want to scream, the best idea is to scream into a pillow. remember the lavender pillow that she gave to you for your birthday? use that, trust me, it works and i do it almost all the time before i go to bed, i just scream into my pillow and smell your sister's perfume and, i feel ten times better," oscar smiles, pulling out of the hug as jazmyne smiles back, wiping her tears away as she nods her head 

two years ago | oscar's pov

"...where's my wife?! where is she?!" i scream, tears streaming down my face as i try to figure out where she went 

for context, my wife wasn't in the same hospital room she was in last week when cecelia and lando's girlfriend were staying here and, no messages were sent from cecelia to me about a room change so i was furious. not at cecelia but at the hospital as usually, you'd think that they'd be the ones to contact you about a room change, not your best friend but, apparently, you get neither! 

"sir...sir, can you please calm down? who is it that you are trying to find?" a nurse suddenly runs in front of me and i slightly calm down, i gulp as i see my hands shake in front of me before i respond 

"my wife, nichola piastri, she's been in room 392b for about, ah, i don't know, a few months in and out since giving birth to our newborn daughter, lennon grace piastri. but, when i just then went inside to visit her, there was no one in there! is my wife okay? we-we have five kids, two 15-year-olds, an 8-year-old, a 7-year-old and a newborn together! please, tell me that nichola is okay?!" i say as my breathing speeds up as i feel another batch of tears well in my eyes as i try to keep them from streaming down my cheeks 

i then hear footsteps come up behind me, a hand pulling me back, i instantly recognise it as lando. i feel my breathing start to regulate properly, knowing that my f1 family were here for me. 

"okay, what's your name sir and, who are these people behind you?" the kind nurse whose nametag introduced her as dr rachel alessi asks as i look behind me before responding 

"i...i'm oscar piastri, nichola's husband, i have four of my five children and i-uh..." 

"--we're the rest of his family, doctor alessi if you please, we'd really like it if we could go in and find out what's wrong with nichola, please, that is all we're asking for!" lando interrupts as i smile at the ground before i looked back up as doctor alessi nodded her head 

"okay, my apologies, come with me guys. in regards to the reason why we've moved nichola from room 392b to just a couple of rooms down from this waiting room was i think due to some issues that were happening that i am not fully aware of so, apologies for that. however, because i am only just a registered nurse, you'll have to wait until nichola's midwife and surgeon who was actually the two managing and taking care of her, to find out what it is that's wrong with her. so, i'll unfortunately, have to ask you all to just, as patiently as you can, wait here until one of the surgeons or midwives is able to give you the information you need. thank you for being so patient oscar and company," doctor alessi was professional as she could be as she was then whisked away into another waiting room across the hall 

i then fell back into the chair behind me as i heard crying - i turned to see it was jazmyne, she was crying into her knees as my heart shattered. her brothers, noah and logan were sound asleep and elena had left to fetch herself and jazmyne something to eat, just as she had promised on the drive over from monaco. i moved closer to jazmyne as i notice the rest of her uncles and family looking over at jazmyne and me, and i could easily tell that they were heartbroken as well. jazmyne leans her head into my chest and i pull her closer as she sobs. i bite my lip to stop my own cries despite the difficulty that was. 

"ssh, jazz, it's okay babe! nichola's going to be just fine, okay?" i try to calm jazmyne down as her cries just get louder - this is the one thing about parenting that i struggle with, watching and hearing my children cry and not knowing exactly how to comfort them or cry with them 

max and i share a look, max knowing the exact look of wishing he could take the pain away. he bites his lip as i know he wanted to cry now as well, lando, nichola's best friend had started crying long ago but, max didn't want to cry. he wanted to stay strong for his nieces and nephews and, i don't blame him as i felt the same way. 

"when...when will she wake up? i miss my sister!" jazz sobs as i close my eyes, hoping it was all just a dream and that we were on a beach or at a grand prix as a family, not in the hospital in france

"i...i don't know jazz, i really don't know and i am so sorry that i can't give you a proper answer!" i respond tearfully as jazz sobs again and i feel awful as that was when doctor alessi came back over to us with somewhat of a hopeful look on her face which made my heart race 

"ahem, i...i am so sorry if this is something i'm interrupting but, oscar, is it okay if i just grab you for a second, privately? one of jazz's uncles can take her and the boys but, i just really need to tell you this in private due to the children..." doctor alessi spoke in a hushed sort of tone

i gulped, nodding my head as i released my grip on jazmyne, max and lando immediately grabbing her, lando's fingers massaging her head as charles and his girlfriend watched over noah and logan, elena still getting some food. doctor alessi leading the both of us into a hallway a couple of doors down from the waiting room 

"...so, what's up with nichola, has there been any new news about her from her midwives or surgeons?" i ask as i bite the inside of my lip as doctor alessi takes a second which worries me slightly 

"that's the thing, oscar. when nichola was pregnant with lennon, it was always known from the beginning that it would be a troublesome pregnancy. i also understand that you guys were told that as soon as lennon was to be delivered that nichola would be fine and that within twenty-four to forty-eight hours that she'd be discharged along with your daughter. however, that obviously was not true as nichola has been here for way longer than expected. and that is because, something irregular with nichola's blood was detected and, it looked as if it was a tear which has caused internal bleeding---" this was all too much for me to comprehend but, nichola's going to survive right? i mean, she has to, we have five kids together for fuck sake, we have jazmyne, elena, noah, logan and lennon together! 

"---wha...what? but, nichola's okay, right? like, she's gonna survive? she...she's going to wake up?" i ask, feeling myself panic, please tell me that nichola's going to wake up, i can't have my five children, especially little lennon grow up without their mum and sister 

"just as i was about to explain before you cut me off, oscar, there is a high percentage rate of her not waking up," my heart fell with a thud into my chest as she said that and my eyes widen 

"do you know the percentage of nichola waking up?" i asked as tears brimmed my eyes, i mean, is there even going to be a survival rate for her considering her death rate is already so high but still unknown 

"i actually have no idea oscar, i was not told. however, because we don't think nichola is going to last through the night without complications, we think it's best if you go visit her, her room number is 583b. i suggest you also grab all of the children, elena included and the aunties and uncles. of course, the younger boys, noah and logan aren't going to fully understand and that's totally understandable. but, even if jazmyne and elena get confused as well, try to make it somewhat easier for all of them to understand. but if you can't make them understand, i am more than happy to explain it to them. but, i...uh, i'm terribly sorry about this oscar, all of us who've been working directly and even those indirectly with nichola were really hoping for it to end in any way but this way and, i'm sorry we can't have it end positively with your wife..." i feel my heart shatter and drown as i try to come to terms with what doctor alessi just revealed as she then speaks up again 

"...oh, and before i forget, for a few moments, it did look as though she was responding with the movements of limbs but, it wasn't anything to suggest that it was an improvement because almost straight away, she went back down. but, besides that, if you'll come back with me, i can walk with you and tell the rest of the family about nichola so you don't have to and then, i can lead you guys to 583b and say your final goodbyes to her," doctor alessi spoke professionally, without skipping a beat as i nodded my head, a single tear slipping down my cheek as my worst fear had come true - my best friend dying on me, leaving me as a single father to our five children 

"thank you doctor alessi," was all that i could muster saying from my mouth as i follow behind her as we walk back to the group, noticing that elena had only just walked back over from the cafe and the doctor breaks the news to them

straight away, jazmyne runs over to me, seeing her uncle lando struggle to hold back his tears with max right next to him, lando's girlfriend on the other side. jazmyne then looked up at me with sad and confused eyes as my heart broke, again.

"osc...why is uncle lando crying?" jazmyne questioned in confusion as my heart shatters and i bite my lip and take a deep breath - ready to tell her when doctor alessi steps in instead

"jazz..." 

"...jazmyne, sweetheart, the reason why some of your family members are crying is that something has happened to your sister since giving birth to your sister, lennon," doctor alessi started as jazmyne tilted her head to the side and then turns it to elena as they stood together, all bunched up watching what was happening 

"what do you mean doctor alessi? is nichola okay?" jazmyne asks as my heart cracks

yes, she was fifteen and a big girl, as is elena, but in this situation, i had never seen my two girls look so small and afraid in their lives. turning to look away, i look back to notice that max had wrapped his arm around me. his girlfriend kelly watching over noah and logan as they both fell asleep 

"remember when oscar mentioned that nichola was sick?" uncle lando shakily jumps in, wiping his tears away as he moves closer to jazmyne and elena, the two girls nod their heads, uncle lando going down to his knees to level with the girls as they hug each other as doctor alessi continues 

"yeah..." the sisters mumble with head nods, doctor alessi taking over

"...well, jazmyne and elena, because your guys' sister and mum is sick, she has been having to stay here in this hospital like baby lennon had to, to make sure she could get better. however, there is a chance that due to the sickness your sister has, it is doubtful that she's going to wake up again..." doctor alessi pauses again as jazmyne and elena look at each other and then around at everyone else - jazmyne then making eye contact with all of her uncles and aunties whilst elena just looks down to the floor 

"...wait, what? why wouldn't nichola wake up? she...she has to... what about baby lennon? what about me and elena? what about noah and logan? what about oscar? she's the closest thing me and elena have to a mum! what's going on..." jazmyne started to panic as uncle lando tries to calm her down by pulling her closer to his body 

"...jazmyne, sweetheart, nichola isn't going to wake up, she's going to die..." although everyone else apart from my kids were adults, still hearing doctor alessi say that nichola, the mother/sister of my children was going to die was still hard to hear as jazmyne starts to whimper, lando once again, trying to calm her down 

"...nichola's not going to come home, dad?" jazmyne questioned, calling me dad for the first time in years looking towards me, her voice small as that was the moment that all of our hearts broke 

"mhm, nichola's not coming home, jazz," i whispered as tears streamed down my cheeks as lando let go of jazmyne allowing her to run over to me

picking her up, the both of us crying whilst elena, noah and logan reacted differently. elena went numb and the two boys latched on to each other but neither cried just yet and lennon, she was having her last few hospital evaluations in the nicu.

present-day | oscar's pov

it was a school day for four of five of my children however, for jazmyne and elena, since they were both in year 11, their school teacher had allowed her students to bring in the parent/parents of the student/students. in a bid to share the occupation of their parent/caregiver as a way to inspire the other year 11 students who were about to start their senior year. and, obviously, although both girls didn't want to also bring cecelia, who was also within the f1/motorsport profession, jazmyne and elena just brought me in. for the obvious reason that cecelia needed to take care of lennon back home, the baby of the family. we were having a discussion in class about something in regard to the work i do as an f1 driver for mclaren racing when one of elena and jazmyne's school friends had questioned about nichola. and why their sister hadn't come since i was the only single 'parent' in the session.

"...jazz, elena, what about oscar's job? he's still in formula one, right? also, where's your guys' sister, nichola?" macie, a best friend of jazmyne and elena questioned as my eyes widened in shock

i sworn i had told macie's mother, marnie, who was also the girls' school teacher not to mention nichola. as recently, both girls, jazmyne and elena, hadn't been coping well so, i was scared at how both girls were going to respond to their friend.

both elena and jazmyne's heads shoot up from their early junior certificate testing that the two sisters had both been working on as i couldn't distinguish how they were both feeling like i could usually do. however, neither girl cried, they didn't scream. they were strong and confident and jazmyne spoke up first and answered without hesitation which shocked me. not because i thought neither daughter could do it, but, because jazmyne answered so straightforwardly. something that adults my age struggle with and, jazmyne and elena have both only just turned seventeen. 

"she died two years ago, macie, she never got to leave the hospital. the blood loss she suffered after she had given birth to lennon was too much and, the nurses couldn't control it in time and it was too late. we would've thought that your mum would have told you?" jazmyne spoke softly, elena mumbling a "yeah" whilst looking at macie

the two girls shrugging their shoulders empathetically to macie who looked as though it was the first time she was being told this news from her friends 

"oh..." macie responded as marnie interrupted when macie was just about to apologise 

"...oh my gosh! i am so sorry jazmyne, elena and mr piastri, class and parents please, continue with whatever it is you were doing..." marnie spoke out loud before moving closer to me, my two daughters and macie and continuing 

"...that was so rude of macie to ask you! she knows to not talk about it, most especially during class, jazmyne, elena, girls are you okay?" marnie hushed harshly before calming down and rushing over to my two girls to make sure they were fine, both of them smiling and looking identical to their older sister as they nodded their heads 

elena speaking up first this time, "it's okay mrs nelson, i'm fine, jazmyne's fine and so is our dad. i mean, if macie didn't know and wants to know, she has that right. it is okay to ask things like that sometimes as long as it doesn't get too personal and even then, have you met jazz and i's father? but, thank you for asking if we're okay but, seriously, we're totally fine, please, don't baby us!" elena smiled as that shocked the entire class, including jazmyne but, i couldn't hide my smile - both of my girls were definitely nichola and i's girls 

and yes, elena and jazmyne were now comfortable enough to refer to me as 'dad' not just around the house but in public as well. of course when it's realised that they are the younger sisters of my deceased wife, it gets kind of messy. but, now that they were older and now that it had been two years since the loss of their sister and were still under my guardianship since they're still under eighteen, they both asked if they could refer to me as dad since their real dad had no affiliation to them anymore. similar with their biological mum, hence why me and nichola adopted them in the first place all those years ago before we had our own biological kids.

getting called out by one of her students definitely was embarrassing for marnie but, she picked herself up and continued, "well, i...i'm still going to make macie apologise, alright girls? asking someone where their sister, brother, mother or father is, is not okay,. and she needs to learn that, even at seventeen, she needs to learn that not every single one of her friends has both parents or family in their lives as she does and she needs to know that and be sensitive towards it," marnie splutters out as jazmyne and elena nod their heads as they go back to the early junior certificate for next year when they are both eighteen alongside macie when marnie pulls me aside 

she looked sort of mad that her daughter asked jazmyne and elena about nicola but, to be honest, did marnie even explain it properly or at all to macie as it's been two years since nichola died? or, did she just forget about that bit like it was nothing because macie was too young? and just decided to tell macie that nichola was just going to stay sleeping in a hospital bed for a while? then i notice the face that macie made when her mum said that she knew not to talk about it and how it really looked as if macie legitimately had no clue about nichola's death two years on. 

"i am so sorry..." just as marnie was going to splutter out a useless apology on behalf of her very capable seventeen-year-old daughter, i stopped her 

"...marnie, just stop for a second. did you seriously tell your daughter at all as to what happened to nichola or did you just expect that as she got older that she'd find out on her own as to why she never came to the funeral to help her best friends say the eulogy that she had helped them write like we agreed she would?" i was stern in my approach as marnie looks at me in shock as if i couldn't raise my voice at anyone on my own without nichola or without crying over it 

"wha...what, of course, i did, that's--" 

"--no, she didn't oscar," macie's sweet voice came up from behind as i gave the girl a proud smile after she had stood up for herself in front of her mum - also smiling due to being called by my first name which was something i hadn't heard in a while from her since she was always forced by her mum to call me 'mr piastri' which i hated

"she refused to even let me ask about you guys for an entire year before she could even mention nichola because she didn't want to get upset and "cry" over a friend which, i'm sorry mum but, what the actual fuck?" macie was angry as the lunch bell then rang, the other students and parents apart from jazmyne, elena and macie leaving as marnie tried so hard to make what her own daughter was saying to seem like a lie when really, i believed the best friend of my daughter's more than the adult 

"really, macie? she never mentioned anything to you about what happened to nichola during lennon's birth? so, the first time you actually hear about it is from jazmyne and elena?" i questioned with my arms crossed over as both my daughters and macie nod their heads as i turn back around to look at marnie who looked as though she had seen a ghost - in which, she bloody damn will in a second and it won't be nichola's happy ghost either! 

"yes, i am serious oscar, mum hasn't ever mentioned once why cecelia has now been living with you guys and why nichola hasn't been around when i've stayed over. and why i didn't go to the funeral even though i was supposed to because i wasn't even told that the funeral was for nichola in the first place. even when i helped jazz and elena write the eulogy, they never specified who i was writing it for," macie looked at me with teary eyes as my heart shattered for the teenage girl who i'd actually become closer with since becoming closer to her parents - why would marnie not even tell her daughter about the loss of her best friends' sister? 

macie then started to cry, obviously very overwhelmed from the situation earlier and now only just finding out that for the last two years, the mother of her best friends had been deceased and she had no clue the entire time. without hesitation, jazmyne and elena rushed over and pulled their best friend in for a hug whilst marnie just stayed stagnant and did nothing to even try and comfort her child. 

comforting their best friend, jazmyne and elena hugged macie tightly, elena speaking up, "aw, macie, it's okay. it's not your fault you didn't know, we should have realised that your mum wasn't telling you and we should have then told you ourselves, we just assumed you knew already," elena whispered as jazmyne nodded her head as they hugged macie as closely as they could as i stopped marnie from coming any closer - truthfully, i don't think macie wanted to even look at her mum ever again, thanking god that it was still lunch break

"no, marnie, stay away. i don't even think macie wants to look at you and i wouldn't blame her if she'd never want to be seen next to you ever again. especially considering how long you kept this news from her. why on earth did you refuse to tell her? she deserved to know about the death of her best friends' sister just as much as my own children did!" i was mad, fuming at what marnie had done to her daughter 

"mr piastri, macie's my child, you can't stop me from comforting her..." 

"...yes he can, mum. oscar is right, i don't even want to look at you, let alone be seen with you ever again! in all honesty, i don't even want to live with you anymore, i want to live with dad because then that means i'll be right next door to jazmyne and elena and i'll actually be able to be told things straight away and not have to wait years before i'm actually told things that are important like the death of their sister! and i'll actually be taken care of properly because dad actually loves me and he makes it his priority to make sure his children are taken care of, no wonder why he's got full custody of the rest of my siblings. and unlike your lies, this family actually wanted me at nichola's funeral, and so did i, why do you think i helped them write the bloody eulogy they were going to say? you even said i could go and say that eulogy with jazmyne and elena however when the day did come, you left the house without even giving me any knowledge that you were leaving and that it was time to go. like i mentioned earlier, i didn't even know that the funeral was for nichola and that i was helping jazz and nicole say a eulogy for her because you never told me it was her funeral, to begin with. all because you didn't even tell me that she had died. yet, i still waited for two nearly three hours for you to come into my room to tell me if it was time to go or not. however, you never came back until the funeral was over and i had no goddamn idea that it was over and that it was nichola's funeral. what the fuck is wrong with you that you couldn't even tell me something as simple as the information that the sister and mother of my two best friends and their siblings had died. was it because i spent so much time with dad, therefore meaning i spent too much time going next door and spending more time with the piastris than i spent with you?" macie was a strong girl, a very strong girl however, not once until now did we think she was going to be able to stand up to her own mother like that 

no one knew how to respond so, no one did. jazmyne, elena and i just smiled at how proud we were of macie for standing up for herself, her friends and her father in the way she did. and, just like we imagined, marnie was shocked, unable to comprehend her daughter and her student because don't forget, marnie was also her school teacher, just exposed her and stood up to her. and, also, just so you know, macie's father, matthew, had won full custody of his daughter not long after this interaction and marnie was not granted any visitations with any of her five children, including macie. 

two years ago | lando's pov

the one day that none of us was ready for suddenly jumped up on us. nichola's funeral. due to being jazmyne and elena's uncle due to the fact that i am their sister's best friend, i had the job of making sure my two nieces, jazmyne and elena were okay whilst max and charles took care of noah, logan and baby lennon and cecelia was taking care of oscar. although i was also at my breaking point emotionally, just like oscar was, i had to make sure i stayed strong for my two nieces jazz and elena. 

*knock knock* there was a small sounding knock at my bedroom door, knowing it came from jazz and elena, i let them both come in. 

"come in you two, what's up my princesses?" i say as my back is facing them as i finish fixing my hair although i knew it would be a crows nest after oscar's finished crying into it at the funeral 

"you're the last one ready, uncle lando, we need to leave," elena's hoarse voice rang out as my heart broke and my eyes widened as i turned around to face the two fifteen-year-olds who were dressed in their very best black dresses, their hair is done perfectly by cecelia with some suede black boots 

i then questioned why max or charles didn't come up, why did they get jazmyne and elena to come upstairs to tell me? 

"oh...oh, thanks elena, why...why didn't they get uncle max or uncle charles to come up and get me?" i ask, patting the bed down for jazmyne and elena to come and sit down next to me for a moment before having to leave 

jazmyne then spoke up with a shrug, "we don't know, apparently it was because macie's stupid mum, marnie, our school teacher, had shown up and they were trying to deal with her. and, elena and i were the only two who were free to come upstairs to tell you," jazmyne sighed, with a shrug of her shoulders as elena nodded her head as my eyes widened again, why was marnie here? i mean, macie was supposed to come but, not her mother

"oh, well, has marnie left then?" i ask as both girls shake their heads, elena speaking up this time 

"nah, we think she has somehow convinced dad to let her come but only if she stays right at the back and doesn't do anything stupid, she can stay," elena shrugs as a disgusted look shows up on both sisters' faces as i try not to laugh

yeah as a family, we weren't really a fan of macie's mother despite the fact that macie, her siblings and father were the complete opposites, a group of absolute angels 

"okay but, we should probably head downstairs now then girls..." just as i went to stand up, jazmyne pulled my hand back down as i gave the two girls worried looks 

"...what's wrong jazz and elena? we need to go and say goodbye to your sister and mum," i responded as the two girls just looked up at me with their sad, devastated puppy dog eyes as my heart broke 

"we're not ready..." jazmyne responded as the girls looked back at me as i pulled them both in for a hug and we stayed in that hug for a little while before the three of us stood up, me holding jazmyne's hand whilst elena latched hands with jazmyne and we walked downstairs where everyone else who was attending the funeral was waiting 

"...aw, girls, i know you're not. trust me, i'm not ready to say a final goodbye to my best friend either so, i can't imagine what it feels like for you two and your brothers having to say your final goodbyes to your sister and mum," i whispered as we then walked downstairs 

🥀

i sat down in my seat in the church of the funeral with elena and jazmyne on each side of me, oscar on elena's side and cecelia on jazmyne's as we waited for the next speech. which was one of nichola's siblings and then after that it was jazmyne, elena and macie's turn, macie who was the daughter of marnie and was supposed to be here but, she was nowhere to be seen. macie was the girl who had helped elena and jazmyne write their eulogy for their sister and expressed her interest in wanting to attend today's service. but, it seemed as though macie wasn't aware that it was for nichola since her mum, marnie, was notorious for not telling important things to macie or the rest of her children straight away, usually telling them months or even years later. 

one of nichola's sisters had just finished their speech and, whilst it broke hearts, hearing the priest introduce the next speech being spoken by nichola's two younger sisters who she adopted and a family friend, jazmyne, elena and macie, was even more heartbreaking to everyone in the church. and that was because they all knew these three girls as fifteen-year-olds, they were just kids and they were already having to speak about the death of their sister and the mother of their siblings and friends. 

and when it did come to jazmyne, elena and macie's turn, macie was still nowhere to be found and it really worried jazmyne and elena but, that was when i realised that marnie had definitely not told macie at all about nichola's death. and just knowing that she didn't tell her daughter but still had the audacity to come to my best friend's funeral infuriated me because she knew her daughter was involved in the funeral but didn't even tell her who it was for and therefore didn't allow her to attend. 

"...elena, jazz, what are you girls doing? it's your turn to speak about your sister," i whispered as the two girls whimpered softly, their hands not leaving each other or mine as elena spoke up ever so quietly 

"where...where's macie, uncle lando? she's meant to be here with jazmyne and me! she's meant to help us with the eulogy, she was the one who wrote it for us because we couldn't do it ourselves one day at school! but, macie's nowhere to be found but marnie is still here!" elena stuttered out as my heart breaks for my two nieces

i don't know where macie is either but, i have a pretty good assumption that marnie left the house without even letting macie know about it. the fifteen-year-old had probably spent ages getting ready for the funeral and was still waiting for the moment her mum was going to walk into her room and get her, not knowing it wasn't actually going to happen. 

"i...i'm not sure girls but, it looks like you two are going to have to go up together, just the two of you. you just need to be brave and do it just the two of you and, if you need, i can come up with you?" i spoke softly, comforting them both as jazmyne and elena nodded their heads, putting their bravest faces on 

"okay," jazmyne and elena respond, their bravest faces on as i stand up with them, holding jazmyne's hand whilst elena holds one of jazmyne's fingers as we walk up to the podium, jazmyne and elena holding hands as i stand back a couple of steps behind them 

i then notice oscar as well as cecelia who are both smiling towards the two sisters as i just spoke a couple of words before jazmyne and elena's eulogy. 

"hello everyone, just before nichola's two younger sisters that she and her husband adopted say their eulogy, i am lando norris. i'm one of the uncles to the piastri children and one of nichola's best friends, just on behalf of the entire piastri family and extended, i just want to say a huge thank you for coming. i know funerals aren't everyone's favourite thing to be doing on a day as pretty as today in monaco but, we have to. it's what nichola would have wanted and, i'm glad we were able to come together in the way we have to celebrate a wonderful woman like nichola. i say this because, she's honestly the perfect woman and sister/mother to her five beautiful children and a wonderful wife to her husband, oscar. so, once again, just a small thank you all for coming and now, i'm going to pass the mic on to nichola and oscar's two oldest daughters, jazmyne and elena to say the eulogy that they had prepared for their sister," i managed to keep it together as i was applauded before i moved back a couple of steps as jazmyne and elena moved up to the microphone, still holding hands to comfort one another 

"hi everybody, just like our uncle lando just mentioned, i'm jazmyne amber piastri, the eldest younger sister and adopted daughter of nichola and oscar piastri..." 

"...and i'm elena nicole piastri, the second eldest younger sister and adopted daughter of nichola and oscar piastri and although this isn't exactly what me and my sister ever dreamt of doing at such ages of fifteen, having to say goodbye to our sister who stepped up and became our mum, we are however very grateful that we have all of you guys here to help me and jazmyne's family to get through it. so, umm, jazmyne's just going to say a few words in regards to who me and jazmyne's sister was as a person and how amazing she was because, jazmyne doesn't think she personally told her enough and then, i'm going to speak after her with my part of the eulogy..." elena trailed off but was a wonderful speaker, as was jazmyne, exactly like their sister, which is why i think it was so hard for everyone to hear the two girls say a eulogy at their sister's funeral as jazmyne moved forward to the microphone

"originally, me and elena were going to have our best friend from school, macie, to help us since she had actually written this eulogy for us. but, she actually isn't here so, it'll just be me and elena so, here i go," jazmyne paused as she rolled her shoulders back and continued as me and elena smiled at her 

"i always loved telling people, as did elena, that our sister/mum was nichola piastri and that our dad was oscar piastri. i loved it because it both confused people and weirded them out when i would explain that my mum is actually my older sister and my dad drives for the mclaren formula one team. so for those who aren't actually aware about the family dynamic, nichola was our older sister and by the time she was old enough to get out of our horrible home situation and got herself a place to live with oscar, she made the decision to legally adopt me and elena. making sure she had all evidence possible so that she had the best chance to adopt us and making sure that there was no way that the judge would be able to give custody back to our biological parents. and because of that, nichola showed oscar just how beautiful of a person she was. and i truly think that's what made him fall that much more in love with our sister. oscar has been in elena and i's lives for so many years now even before he and nichola took us in that it all just blurs into one and no matter what moment in that timeframe i'm talking about, i can't help but smile because it was a happy time in my life because i knew me and elena were safe always. it didn't matter if something went wrong, i knew that if i was with my sister and her boyfriend that we were safe and we weren't being left behind. and then, a couple years after nichola and oscar took elena and i in, they realised that being parents was truly their calling in life so they then had their first baby, the beautiful little noah jack who is exactly like his mummy! and then not long after that they had logan michael and now only recently, baby lennon was born and that completed our special and blended family. however, that...that's not what this whole eulogy is about despite how it might sound like..."

"...i only wanted to mention that because, it was and still is something i'm so proud of because, my whole childhood, i found everything my parents did to be amazingly cool even though dad wasn't home as much as nichola was. nichola was more of a caretaker than the wife of a formula one driver. she loved to take care of people even if she had known the person for less than ten minutes, she'd be coddling them and calling them her child. and this is when macie would come into the eulogy but because she isn't here, it means i have to say it..." jazmyne paused again before she took in a deep breath and continued 

"...when i first introduced me and elena's first ever school friend, macie, to nichola and oscar, they were extremely excited because for the last few years before we had met macie, we were doing what was basically homeschool since me and elena were the two older ones that would sometimes join oscar when he'd travel for formula one. so, when we both got to the age of homeschooling becoming a bit lonely, nichola and osc made the collective decision to have me and elena stay in monaco with nichola during the school term and then have elena and i go to the european races during our holidays. this meant that going to an actual school and meeting new people was kind of scary because elena and i only had each other since when we were at physical school, we didn't spend a lot of time there to form proper friendships with the other students our ages. even scarier when it's considered that throughout the whole of monaco and europe, me and my sister were extremely popular as were our unborn brothers because we're the adopted daughters of oscar piastri from formula one, meaning that we were slightly worried that anytime we tried to make friends, we'd only meet kids who'd only want to talk to us because of oscar..." 

"...however, it didn't really do that, especially when on the first day of our new school, we met macie nelson, the daughter of our teacher, mrs marnie nelson, who we were going to have for a good few years of our schooling. macie was a sweet, kind, quiet, shy but pocket rocket of a girl. we knew straight away, elena and i, that she was going to be our new best friend, if not our third sister even though we do now have our third sister, our beautiful baby lennon grace piastri," 

"and, going back to the point of nichola being a caretaker, the literal second that elena, myself and macie walked into the house after school, nichola was already calling macie "sweetheart", "babe", "my darling girl", all the things that she called me and elena, her actual sisters. and, i don't think either elena or me could lie and say our hearts didn't flutter in happiness because they really did," jazmyne started to falter as elena gave her a little nudge as jazmyne nodded her head and elena took over 

"and now, jazmyne and i knew how oscar felt every time nichola spoke those sweet nicknames to him *coos and awws* macie was already a part of the piastri family and she hadn't even been properly introduced to nichola, oscar who was off from touring for a couple of weeks and noah, our only brother at the time," elena took over and recovered perfectly from jazmyne's falter as she continued

"jazmyne said all of this and i am too because nichola really loved people and she loved being the mum to those whose mum didn't love them as she did. it was her true calling for her to be a mother and jazmyne and i, along with our siblings, are so glad that we had the opportunity to call her our 'mum/sister' for fifteen, eight and seven years on this earth that we've had with her. and, also, nichola, i think you'll be happy when we tell you that macie's dad has finally sorted out that custody battle as macie has now been granted permission to start the move back to her dad's house. so, i think you can stop hovering over mrs nelson and giving her a hard time even though we all know deep down that she deserves it, it really is time to stop. as, legally, macie's dad can take macie from her whenever he feels like he needs too *everyone giggles*..." 

"we love you so much nichola, thank you, once again, for being the best mum/sister to jazmyne, myself, noah, logan and lennon, love jazmyne and elena," elena finished her sister's part of the eulogy with so much bravery and poise after her sister faltered that, i don't even think the two girls needed me up here with them for moral support

elena then shakes her head towards the priest, saying that she didn't need to say her part of the eulogy since jazmyne's part basically covered the things she was going to speak about anyway. we then walk off the stage and back to our seats in the front row pew where oscar and cecelia gave jazmyne, elena and me hugs. 

"...you two girls did amazing!" cecelia whispered as jazmyne and elena both smiled as i agreed, all of us then sitting down 

"we did it for their sister and mum," i smiled as jazmyne and elena nodded their heads in agreement, jazmyne's tears disappearing as we all held hands and hugged as the rest of the service happened

present time | oscar's pov 

it was christmas, which means it is the hardest time of the year for jazmyne, elena, the boys and me, especially since nichola's death. jazmyne had just lost her love and excitement for christmas completely last christmas and now this one as well. it broke my heart to see the bright blue sparkles of her eyes be dull on christmas morning when her other siblings, elena, noah, logan and baby lennon were always so excited. except, strangely, this year, the sparkle in her beautiful blue eyes for the first time in two, nearly three years, came back. 

"daddio!" jazmyne's mature, seventeen-year-old voice was heard down the hall, calling me her "daddio" like the old days, making my heart flutter as cecelia and i looked at each other in confusion at jazmyne 

cecelia and i started dating after being told to by nichola in a letter she had written to me and the family that doctor alessi had given to me after the family had said our final goodbyes on the day nichola passed away. she made me promise that i'd move on and start dating cecelia, making sure that it wasn't forced by grief and that it was organic as her only two rules. and also to make sure i gave jazmyne, elena, noah and logan the chance of having a motherly figure in their life again and for baby lennon to have a motherly figure in her life straight up since she wasn't even a full day old when nichola died. 

"yes, my darling?" i responded, slipping on a festive tee shirt as normally, jazmyne wouldn't be this happy on christmas morning and cecelia giggles, rolling back over to sleep again as i roll my eyes 

"it's christmas!" she yells out, almost waking up the entire house, cecelia and i hosting the f1 grid christmas this year, as we were all staying in monaco for christmas, all running into cecelia and i's room to make sure that jazmyne was okay 

"yes jazmyne, it is christmas, what's got you so happy?" i giggled as she gave me an innocent but still smug-like smile which confused me

my seventeen-year-old, one of, was still a child at heart, exactly like her daddio 

"come with me, daddio!" she then said with a snigger as she grabbed my hand as i turned back to cecelia who was fast asleep. how the heck has she been able to sleep through this entire thing?

"o...kay?" i questioned with a small giggle as she giggled as well and we ran down the hall into uncle lando and aunty luisa's room and i was confused 

"what are you doing jazmyne? what's gotten into you sweetpea, you haven't been this excited for christmas since nichola died, what's up, are you sure you're okay?" i questioned, giving my eldest daughter a worried look as jazmyne rolls her eyes and giggled

and just as i go to look at her uncle lando for help, he puts his hands up and leaves with luisa - god dammit lando and luisa! why is everyone against me today? it's christmas for christ's sake! 

"come on daddio! it's been two, nearly three years since nichola's died and since cecelia started becoming our mother figure and, i don't hate christmas anymore. it doesn't hurt the way it used to now that nichola isn't with us anymore. just, daddio, trust me, i've got it all under control but, before i go, could you please wake up cecelia and gather the entire family downstairs by the tree to do presents as i can't wait any longer!" jazmyne explained as i smiled, i was happy to hear that jazmyne was no longer upset about christmas so, i did as she said and i let to go wake up cecelia

"okay, i trust you're telling the truth and not just saying it because you want to impress everyone and fake it. but, i'll get cecelia and we'll be down in around three or four minutes," i smile, tapping jazmyne's back lightly as she squeals - yep, she's still that same little girl she was years ago even though she's seventeen, nearly eighteen 

🥀

the f1 grid and their partners, myself, elena, noah, logan and lennon were now downstairs as we awaited on jazmyne. for some odd reason, she was taking her time but, just as cecelia was going to go up to grab her, jazmyne came bundling down from the staircase as we all looked at each other in confusion. lennon resting in my hold, what is jazmyne doing? 

"jazmyne, sweetness, what are you doing?" i giggled, lennon laughing as well as jazmyne grabbed a bag of presents and handed them out to the group, leaving one for cecelia

then, this bombshell that none of us was expecting but was everything we wanted, dropped from her mouth. 

"mum, ever since nichola started deteriorating in the hospital after giving birth to lennon, you were there for the entire family and even before that frightful day, you were there for us. and, because it's christmas i thought it was the perfect time to say i really love you a lot and, after talking about it with elena, noah and logan since lennon is still too young to comprehend any of this, we've all decided that we're ready to start calling you our mum..." jazmyne smiled, not once stuttering as we all looked at jazmyne in shock expect for my other kids who clearly knew about this christmas present for cecelia

tears welled in my eyes as lennon smiled and hugged me tighter even though she was only two and didn't really understand much of what was happening. i shared a smile with four of my kids whilst we all had a group hug. kissing them all individually, letting them know that this was a beautiful christmas present for cecelia and how much it meant to both of us, not just her. 

"...jazmyne--" cecelia spoke as jazmyne sushed her and everyone laughed as she then continued on 

"...mum, you've been there for everything since nichola died and, we just want to ask you this on christmas morning because it's the right time for you to adopt me, elena, noah, logan and lennon and be our mum and marry our dad and become cecelia piastri?" jazmyne asks as cecelia jumps off the couch, pulling jazmyne into her arms as jazmyne giggles softly 

"oh, jazmyne, of course, darling! of course, i'll adopt you and the kids!" cecelia calls out as i cover my mouth, feeling the happy tears that welled up fall down my cheeks as i wipe them away before lennon and i ran, joining cecelia, jazmyne, elena, noah and logan in the hug as everyone else cheers

"phew, oh thank god you said yes as uh, i had uncle max and aunty kelly kinda help me with getting all the paperwork..." jazmyne spoke with hunched shoulders and a humourous smile to break up the silence as everyone laughed - of course, she had her uncle max and aunty kelly to help her, who else would have the tools to do so? 

"oh jazz, i was always going to look after you guys! that's what i promised your sister the day she died. i promised her that i was going to look after you, daddy and your siblings until my own dying breath," cecelia spoke with her beautiful smile as she kisses jazmyne's cheek, making her giggle as she then kisses the other kids 

it was then announced that the other kids could open their presents with their uncles and aunties with them. as cecelia and i had taken jazmyne and elena with us to a different room for their presents that were from the two of us. 

"jazmyne, elena, these two are for you, i know they may look like two blank envelopes but, i promise you, it's more than that..." i spoke as the two girls gave cecelia and me weird looks before opening the envelopes 

and, let's just say, i never expected this reaction from our two older girls but, we wouldn't have changed their reactions at all. 

"wha-wah-wait, hold up, mum, dad, are you guys serious?" elena was the first to speak up as jazmyne just stared down at the envelope 

"yeah, we're dead serious elena, it's about time we spoilt our two big kids rather than your brothers and baby sister," cecelia spoke up as jazmyne finally looked up, tears were in her eyes 

"you...you're allowing us to move to australia for university? mum? dad?" jazmyne was quiet, as quiet as i'd ever heard her, her voice only slightly rising at the end as i nodded my head, cecelia also nodding her head 

"yes, you two are graduating within the coming weeks and you're both going to be turning eighteen within the next few months so, of course, we were going to let you guys move to australia for university. it was actually something nichola left in the letter she wrote for you two," i spoke as jazmyne looked down, starting to cry and i smiled as elena comforted her 

"you okay, jazz? is it everything you wanted?" cecelia whispered, bopping down to both girls' height as jazmyne nodded her head 

"it...it's all i've ever wanted, mum. to be like nichola and daddio," jazmyne whimpered as she looked up once again and i walked over and lifted her up, her legs latching around my waist as i smile, jazmyne hugging me tighter 

"thank you," she whimpered as i squeezed jazmyne whilst cecelia did the same thing to elena

lando, max and charles (and their girlfriends) then joined us and smiled as they all leaned on each other. lando speaking up as i nodded my head. 

"so, i guess you told them?" lando spoke up, max and charles leaning against him as they all smiled and leant on each other as i nodded my head

"yeah, we did. it was about time lando, they deserved to know what nichola's final wish for them was before she died. they deserve to go back to australia, where they used to live and for them to study there. they deserve to have the choice to branch away from their sister's degree and their dad's job if that's what they so choose to do," i smiled a bright, happy smile that reached either side of my eyes as lando rubbed my back, also smiling 

jazmyne and i hugged a little longer before i placed her down as she then hugged cecelia and elena hugged me before we then decided to continue with the rest of the presents that everyone else got the kids. 

a gazillion presents later and i still think the one that really got to jazmyne was the present from mum and me for her and elena and then the car that uncle lando and aunty lusia had gotten them both. 

well, now this was the moment i knew that it was the right time to propose and marry cecelia, the love of my life and make her mrs piastri as well as the legal mother of our five kids, having our two eldest move to australia for university. this christmas couldn't have gone any better than it already had. a christmas miracle is what happened this year and, i think this instagram post proved it. 

liked by oscarpiastri, elenapiastri, cecelialambert, landonorris, maxverstappen1, charlesleclerc, luisinhaoliveira99, kellypiquet, alexandrasaintmleux, macienelson and 45k others

jazmynepiastri merry chrysler everybody 🤍

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oscarpiastri merry christmas my dear. glad this christmas was better for you than the last 🤍

jazmynepiastri oscarpiastri thank you daddio and, this christmas was far better than last christmas that's for sure 🤍

elenapiastri merry christmas jazzy 🤍

jazmynepiastri elenapiastri merry christmas el🤍

cecelialambert merry christmas babe 🤍

jazmynepiastri cecelialambert merry christmas mum 🤍

landonorris yes, luisa and i did give you and elena a merry chrysler! merry christmas jazmyne 🤍

jazmynepiastri landonorris yes, you did give elena and me a merry chrysler. merry christmas uncle lando🤍

maxverstappen1 merry christmas jazmyne. these photos are all gorgeous but that photo of little two-year-old lennon is just the sweetest thing, she's gotten so big 🤍

jazmynepiastri maxverstappen1 merry christmas uncle max. and thank you, i do love these photos and, i know, lennon has gotten so big, it's crazy at this point 🤍

charlesleclerc merry christmas jazmyne. makes us so very happy that this christmas was so much better than last christmas 🤍

jazmynepiastri charlesleclerc merry christmas uncle charles. and it makes me happy as well, this christmas was by far the best one yet 🤍

luisinhaoliveira99 merry christmas jazmyne. and i'm glad you and elena loved the chrysler uncle lando and i bought for you two 🤍

jazmynepiastri luisinhaoliveira99 merry christmas aunty luisa. and thank you so much to you and uncle lando for buying it for us, you didn't need to do that at all! we love her so much 🤍

kellypiquet merry christmas jazmyne. glad to see you smiling and happy in this year's photos 🤍

jazmynepiastri kellypiquet merry christmas aunty kelly. and thank you, i'm glad to see me smiling and enjoying christmas as well 🤍

alexandrasaintmleux merry chrysler to you too, jazmyne 🤍

jazmynepiastri alexandrasaintmleux aunty alex, please, never say merry chrysler ever again! but merry christmas aunty alex 🤍

macienelson merry christmas jazmyne! this christmas was so much better than any other christmas i've certainly had since childhood 🤍

jazmynepiastri macienelson merry christmas macie! and i agree, this christmas has topped every other christmas for me too 🤍

landooonorrriiss omg, seeing you smile and so happy in this year's christmas photos makes me tear up because i remember last year and how sad you looked in the photos that you and shane posted 🤍

jazmynepiastri landooonorrriiss awe, thank you so much, babe! and, honestly, it made me tear up as well after dad showed me the photos afterwards and i realised how happy i had actually been the whole day. and i remember how sad i was last christmas well and it breaks my heart too 🤍

fin

this was a fun one to rewrite! sorry that it wasn't really f1-y but it was kind of hard to do that due to how depresso espresso it was lol. but anyway, hopefully i'll get some original ideas soon and have the talent to start on my recent request i was given!

©⠀amberjazmyn's original work. do not translate or steal any of my fics. 2024

[you-have-a-metal-arm]

JAMES?

pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count : 1.2k

Warnings : Just general fluff

Summary : When you call Bucky “James”—a name no one else dares to use—he reveals to a stunned Steve and Sam.

Authors Note : Hey y’all i’m back!!! Enjoy this fic 🙈

You stood quietly in the doorway, arms crossed as you watched him. His hair was damp with sweat, clinging to his temples, and his jaw was set in that stubborn way it always was when he refused to admit he was hurting. You let out a soft sigh. You hated seeing him like this—so hard on himself, so weighed down by things he didn’t deserve to carry.

He didn’t notice you at first, too lost in his own storm. But you stepped forward, not hesitating for a second.

“James.”

Your voice cut through the room like a blade, soft yet sharp enough to reach him. The sound made him freeze mid-punch, his metal fist stopping inches from the bag. His head turned slowly, his stormy blue eyes locking onto yours. And in an instant, the tension in his shoulders melted. His gaze softened in a way that made your heart ache, because you knew—you knew—no one else ever got to see him like this.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice rough from exertion but laced with something warmer. Something vulnerable.

Steve, halfway through a set of sit-ups in the corner, dropped to the floor in disbelief. “Wait—what?”

Sam, leaning lazily against the wall with a water bottle in hand, nearly spit out his drink. “Hold the hell up,” he said, straightening. “Did she just call you James?”

Steve sat up fully now, wiping his forehead with his shirt and glaring at Bucky like he’d just witnessed a miracle. “She did. And—” his voice faltered as he pointed a finger at Bucky, “—you’re okay with it?”

Bucky glanced at Steve, then at Sam, his jaw tightening ever so slightly. But when he looked back at you, something in his expression shifted. He shrugged, completely unbothered. “Yeah. So?”

Sam’s jaw practically hit the floor. “So? You nearly ripped my arm off when I tried calling you that one time!”

Steve nodded furiously. “He’s not exaggerating. You said, and I quote, ‘Don’t ever call me that again unless you want to find out how fast I can break your jaw.’”

“Exactly!” Sam threw his hands up. “And now she just waltzes in here, says James like it’s nothing, and you’re—what? Cool with it?”

Bucky’s gaze hardened, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. “She’s not you.”

“Oh, no, we get that,” Sam said sarcastically. “But why the hell is she the exception?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away. His hand flexed at his side—flesh and metal both—but his focus stayed on you, his eyes tracing the curve of your face as if grounding himself. Finally, he said, quietly but with conviction, “Because she’s mine.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Steve and Sam exchanged a look—a mixture of shock, disbelief, and maybe even a little amusement—but neither of them dared to speak.

You, however, raised an eyebrow, lips twitching as you fought back a smile. “Yours, huh?”

Bucky’s ears turned a faint shade of pink, but he didn’t back down. His gaze was steady, unwavering. “Yeah. Mine.”

“God,” Sam muttered, dragging a hand down his face. “This is so disgustingly soft, I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Agreed,” Steve said, though there was a small, knowing smile on his face as he stood up. “You two can have your… moment. We’ll leave.”

As the door closed behind them, you turned back to Bucky, who was already watching you like you were the only thing that mattered. His expression had softened completely now, the rough edges smoothed out into something raw, something real.

“James,” you said again, stepping closer, and you saw the way his shoulders relaxed, the way his lips parted slightly like he needed to hear it just one more time.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his voice quieter now.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” you said softly, reaching up to brush a strand of damp hair away from his face. “Come take a break.”

He hesitated, his eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. “I just… I didn’t want to bother you. I needed to work it out.”

“James,” you said, firmer this time, and his breath hitched like the sound of his name from your lips alone was enough to shake him. “You don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, and his hand—metal and warm and steady—reached up to wrap around yours. He held it there, against his cheek, like he was afraid you might pull away. “It’s not just the name,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “When you say it… it’s different. It feels… good.”

Your heart swelled, and you gave him a small, reassuring smile. “That’s because I love you, James. All of you. Even the parts you don’t think are worth loving.”

His eyes closed briefly, and when he opened them again, they were glassy, like he was fighting to keep the emotions at bay. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop it,” you said gently, stepping closer until your foreheads touched. “You deserve everything. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just held you there, close, his arms wrapping around your waist like you were the only thing anchoring him to the world. And maybe, in some ways, you were.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

“James,” you murmured, brushing your nose against his. “You’re safe with me. Always.”

A soft, broken laugh escaped him, and he pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re all I’ve got,” he whispered, his voice muffled but full of emotion. “And you’re all I need.”

You held him there, running your fingers through his hair, and for the first time in a long time, he let himself just be. Vulnerable. Loved. Yours.

Thanks for reading 😁

[madebycloud]

Ex at New Year

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: a second chance at love. a first chance at happiness. the love of your life is knocking at your door. do you let them in? warnings/themes: fluff and angst, ex lovers, breakup, new years eve, pining lmao, a lot of flashbacks, slightly suggestive, everyone is alive and happy au, modern au, mentions of: smoking, drinking, vi is DOWN BAD! serenading you with a boombox in the rain? yes please words: 24.7k (hell yeah...?) notes: i swear this is so fking sappy man like a hallmark christmas movie or smth like that... forced myself to NOT pull a 'past lives' ending. nyways my friend told me to listen to "ocean's & engines" just to write an angst so yeah... — ✩ part one, part two

The walk to your apartment is a quiet one, neither of you speaking a word. You're both lost in your own thoughts, the only sound being the soft scraping of your shoes on the sidewalk. Finally, you reach your apartment building. You stop in front of the door—the same door she slammed shut and left you behind three months ago.

Your hand automatically reaches for your keys, but your fingers linger, not yet grabbing them.

“So, this is it, huh?”

You nod, your eyes still trained on the door in front of you. “Yeah.”

There's a pause. A long pause before Vi speaks again, “Good night.”

This sucks.

“Good night,” you murmur.

She hesitates, like she wants to say something more. But she doesn't. With a nod, she turns and starts walking away.

You swallow the lump in your throat, finally reaching into your pocket and grabbing your keys. You put the key in the lock and twist the doorknob. The door opens with a soft click, and you're face to face with your lonely apartment. It's dark inside, save for the light that comes in through the window. You step inside, shutting the door behind you.

You take off your shoes, kicking them off to the side. You drag yourself over to your bed, slumping down against the footboard. Your hand fishes into your pocket, pulling out your phone.

Scrolling through your phone, you notice a notification from your mother, sent an hour ago. “How's Vander's Christmas party?” it reads.

You sigh, not really wanting to respond. It's already 1am, but you decide to give your mother a call anyway. After a few rings, she picks up.

“Hello?” her voice rings through the speaker. You can hear the faint noise of a TV in the background.

“Still up watching your favorite show?” 

“You know me,” she replies. “Your father is asleep already,” she pauses before asking, “You're going to come over today, right? I'll cook your favorite dish. You better.”

“Yes, I won't miss it,” your fingers playing absently with a loose thread on your sheets.

She hums on the other side of the line. “How was Christmas Eve at Vander's, by the way?”

You shrug, even though she can't see you. “It was pretty good,” you answer. “Food was good. Mylo and Powder are rowdy as always.”

“Oh, I could imagine,” your mother chuckles. “What about-” suddenly she stops, cutting herself off. “How was... how was Vi?”

You hesitate before answering. “She was... fine.”

There's a long pause, the sound of the TV filling the silence. Finally, she speaks. “And how was it, seeing her again?”

You exhale, staring up at the ceiling. “It was fine,” you say again. “It was just... fine.”

She hums, hearing the lie in your tone. But she doesn't push, not this time. “I see…”

After a moment of silence, you ask, “Mom, can I ask you something?”

Your mother pauses. She senses the seriousness in your tone. “Of course, sweetheart,” she says, the TV shutting off in the background.

You swallow, fiddling with the loose thread on your sheets again. “Hypothetically speaking…” you start. “If an ex asked for another chance... would you give them one? I mean, despite everything that's happened.”

There's a deep breath from the other side of the line, followed by a thoughtful hum. “Hypothetically speaking…” she echoes. “I suppose it would depend on why the relationship ended in the first place.”

“But let's say... hypothetically speaking…” you pause. This is going to sound ridiculous. “You have no idea why they walked away. They just... left, and then they turned up a couple months later, asking for another chance. Would you still let them in?”

Your mom takes a moment to answer. “Hypothetically speaking…” she finally replies. “I think if someone wanted another chance, the least you could do is hear them out. Find out the reason they walked away in the first place.”

“But... isn't that just asking for heartbreak all over again?”

“Not necessarily,” your mom says. “Maybe they finally realized how much they still... care for you.”

You close your eyes, pressing your knuckles against them. “But what if... what if they leave again? what if they change their mind?”

“I suppose that's a risk you'd have to be willing to take.”

“I don't know if I can go through something like that again.”

“Listen, honey,” you can almost hear her shaking her head. “If you don't try... how will you know?”

“I just... don't want to get hurt again,” you say, your voice quivering.

Your mother sighs. “Sometimes taking risks is worth it.” She's quiet for a moment before continuing, “Sometimes people make mistakes. They leave, they come back, they leave again, they come back again... but that's what happens when it comes to love. It's messy, complicated, and sometimes it hurts like hell, but it's also the most beautiful and powerful thing in the world.”

You chew on your lip. “I'm so scared, mom,” you admit. “I don't really know what to do.”

There's another pause, then her voice softens. “Remember when you were six, and you wouldn't go on the big slide at the park?”

You frown, her sudden question confusing you. “Yeah?”

“Remember what I told you?”

Thinking back, you recall the memory. Young you, clutching your mom's hand as the other kids swarmed the slide. You were shaking, too scared you'd fall. Her voice drifts through your memory. “I told you that sometimes it's okay to be scared, but you won't know if you like something if you don't try.”

“Besides,” she had said with a smile. “I'll be right here to catch you if you fall.”

You remember how you nodded then, letting go of her hand and slowly making your way up. You're trembling as you stand at the top of the slide, preparing yourself to go.

Your mother's gentle smile, her encouraging words. “Take a deep breath, sweetheart. Everything will be okay.”

Before you knew it, you were off. You were flying, wind in your hair, laughter bursting from your lips. By the time you reached the bottom, any fear you had was replaced with pure happiness.

True to her word, your mom was there to catch you at the end.

“You loved the slide after that,” she chuckles. “You went down it countless times, right until we had to go home, and I'll tell you now…” Her voice turns serious again. “Even if you're scared and you fall, I'll be right here to catch you, okay?”

“I…” You can feel yourself starting to tear up. “Okay,” you whisper, swallowing back the lump in your throat.

She gives a hum, and you can almost see her nodding. “There's my brave girl,” your mom says, a smile in her voice. “Get some rest, and we'll talk more in the morning, alright?”

“Yeah... okay.” you take a shaky breath. “Thanks, mom. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you. Don't stay up too late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you smile, though it fades quickly. “Love you too.”

You hang up, setting your phone down on the bedside table. You sigh, scrubbing a hand over your face. You push yourself from the footboard and make your way to your bed. Crawling onto your stomach, you bury your face deep into your pillow and groan.

Taking risks, giving second chances, hoping for the best, fearing the worst...

You just wish you could shut it all off and just sleep.

—

3 MONTHS BEFORE CHRISTMAS, THE BREAKUP

You sat at the kitchen table, picking at your dinner halfheartedly. You glanced up at Vi, who sat across from you. Her plate of food hardly touched. She's avoiding your gaze. She's just right in front of you, and yet she feels as if she's millions of miles away.

“We need to talk about what's going on with us.”

Vi didn't even bother to look at you. She continues to push her food around her plate.

You slammed your hand down on the table, a loud clang breaking the quiet room. “Don't ignore me.”

That got her looking up to you. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“You know damn well what I want to talk about,” you snap, “this. this." you gesture between you and her.

Vi stands up suddenly, pushing her plate away from her. “I'm tired,” she mutters, avoiding your gaze. 

“Tired of what?” you stand up as well, eyes narrowing. “Tired of this, of us?”

Vi sighs, her shoulders sagging. “Can we not talk about this?’ she says. “I'm just... I'm not in the mood right now, okay?”

It has become a familiar habit. Every time you tried to address the issue, to have a serious conversation about the state of your relationship, Vi would shut down. She would do everything in her power to avoid facing the problem.

You throw your hands up, exasperated. “You've said that every time I try to talk, 'I'm not in the mood', 'Let's talk later', 'Can this wait?'” you mimic her voice. “If we're not gonna talk about this, then when?”

“I don't feel like talking right now!”

“That's the thing! there's never a time that you feel like talking. You always have an excuse, or you brush it off like it's nothing, like our relationship is nothing.”

“That's not true!” Vi snaps back, clenching her jaw. “I care about you and this relationship.”

“Then why do you keep shutting me out?” you interrupt. “You refuse to talk, you distance yourself from me, you dodge every attempt I make to connect. You're pushing me away every chance you get.”

“Jesus Christ, I'm not pushing you away,” Vi says. “I just need some space sometimes, I need to think.” Her tone softens, expression shifting from irritation to something closer to pleading. “Can you give me that at least? just some time to myself to process things.”

“Time to process things,” you repeat. “What things, Vi? see? this is what I'm talking about. You keep everything bottled up, and you never talk to me about it. I can't read your mind, and I can't fix what I don't know. I'm your girlfriend, and yet you treat me like some stranger.”

“What do you want me to say?!” Vi explodes, her voice echoing in the kitchen. “You want me to just pour out my heart and soul to you? spill all my problems and insecurities like some open book? is that what you want?!”

“Yes!” you snap, voice just as loud as hers. “I want you to talk to me! I want you to trust me enough to share what's going on in that head of yours! I can't keep going on like this, walking on eggshells, never knowing if I'm going to say or do something that's gonna piss you off.”

“Maybe I don't want to talk to you all the time,” Vi says. “Maybe I don't want to burden you with all my crap all the time. Maybe I just want some time to myself to deal with it on my own.”

“Of course you don't.” It’s sarcasm, pure and simple. “You're Vi, too tough for feelings and emotions. God forbid you show some weakness. You're so tough and strong and independent, you can handle everything on your own.” “This is why I don't talk to you,” Vi exclaims. “Because I know you'll turn it around on me, you'll make it out like I'm the one that needs fixing. You're so quick to assume the worst in me, to assume that I'm the problem. Have you ever considered that maybe—just maybe—you're the one who's being too clingy, too needy, too-”

“Too what?” you interrupt. “Say it, Vi. I'm too clingy? too needy? go on, get it out. You've wanted to say it for a while—so say it.”

“You're too much!” Vi blurts out. 

“Too much,” you repeat. “I'm too much.” It came out like a scoff. “I'm too much for trying to get you to open up? I'm too much for trying to save this damn relationship? I'm too much for wanting you to fucking talk to me?! I'm just trying to have a damn conversation, but apparently that's too much for you to handle.”

“Yeah, because everything you're saying is bullshit,” Vi retorts. “All you ever do is criticize me and bring up the same crap over and over again. You don't actually want to fix anything. You just want to complain about how I'm not living up to your perfect vision of a partner.”

“Oh my god,” you rub your temples. “My perfect vision of a partner? really? really? I'm not asking for the damn stars and moon. I'm asking for the bare minimum. I'm asking for basic communication. I'm asking for emotional connection. How's that a perfect vision'? How's that being too needy?”

“I wouldn't have to keep bringing up the same crap if you would just talk to me. I wouldn't have to repeat myself. We wouldn't be having this same damn fight again and again if you would just-” you stop yourself, taking a breath. “You know what? no. I'm done. I'm done with this. I'm done with trying to pull teeth, to drag anything meaningful out of you.”

You pace back and forth. “I've been trying to be a good girlfriend. I've given you space, I've been patient. I've listened, I've supported, and I've tried to give you what you needed. But it's never enough, is it? it's always about your space, your needs, your feelings. But what about mine? what about what I need? or does that not matter, because I'm just the clingy, needy girlfriend?”

“Well, screw that!” you continue. “Screw the fact that this whole thing has been tearing me apart from the inside out. Screw the fact that I'm miserable because I'm not even sure if you still love me. Screw the fact that I've been crying every damn night, wondering what I did to mess us up this badly.” You want to scream, to throw something, to run until your lungs burn. “Screw the fact that I can't even sleep at night because all I can think about is our fights. I can't even focus on work because all I can think about is what's going on between us.” 

You pause, choking on the lump in your throat. “But I guess you don't care about any of that, huh? because I'm just the needy one? I'm just the emotional one, the one who's too goddamn sensitive.” You press your palms against your eyes, fighting to keep the tears from falling. “I'm sick of this. I'm sick of feeling like I'm in this relationship all on my own. I'm sick of feeling like you'd be happier if I wasn't even here. I'm sick of feeling worthless.”

The tears start to fall. You wipe furiously at your face, but it was no use. They were quickly replaced with new ones. “I just want you to want me.” You choke back a sob. “I want you to want to share things with me. I want you to want to open up. I don't want to have to drag things out of you. I don't want to have to beg for your love and attention.”

“I'm so damn tired of feeling like I'm not good enough for you.” You wrap your arms around yourself, hugging yourself tight. “Or maybe…” you say, hiccupping in between sobs. “Maybe I'm just not good enough at all. Maybe I'm the problem. Maybe I'm the reason you can't open up, can't bear to let me get close, and maybe—maybe I'm the problem.”

“I just…” you begin, and your voice shakes so much, it's hard to get the words out. “I just want to be enough.”

“I want you to see me,” you continue, hugging yourself tight. Your nails are digging into the flesh of your arms. Anything to keep yourself from falling apart. “I just want you to see that I can be what you need, that I'm enough for you, but no matter what I do, it's not enough. I'm not enough for you. I'm… I will never be enough.” 

You drop your hands to your sides, clenching them into tight fists to stop yourself from reaching for her. You're trying so hard to hold yourself together, but it's not working. You're breaking, you're shattering, you're crying so hard you can barely speak.

“Maybe we shouldn't be together.”

Your stomach dropped to your feet. You don't think she'll go there, but here she is, talking about breaking up.

“What?” you force out, voice cracking. “Is that what you want?”

“I don't know,” she says, still not looking at you. “You need someone who can give you what you need, someone who's not so broken and messed up and damaged-” she clenched her jaw tightly, hating every word that left her mouth. “You'll find someone better. I know you will.”

Everything started to spin. You couldn't breathe. You feel like you were spiraling, grasping at straws, doing anything to reach her, to connect with her. This was happening, it was really happening—you were losing her. 

“You're serious,” you whisper. “You really want to break up.”

A part of you had been holding on to the hope that she'd change her mind, that she'd take back what she said. that this is some sort of prank and for her to burst out laughing and say 'gotcha!'.

but with each second of silence that passed, that hope was slowly dying.

You try to steady your voice to keep control. “If that's what you really want, then fine. Break up with me. Leave. Go be happy without me.”

“Okay.” And just like that, the fragile string that had been holding everything together snapped.

Vi walks to the door, her movements so slow. It's like she's in a trance, or maybe you are, because time seemed to slow down. This couldn't be happening. Please, tell me this is just a bad dream. But it isn't. It is real. It is happening.

You couldn't let her go like this. You couldn't let her walk out the door and out of your life without a fight. You had to stop her, you had to, you had to—

Your hand lasts out, grabbing her arm. “Please,” you beg. “Don't do this. We can talk, we can figure it out.”

Her hand paused, hovering over the door. She couldn't bring herself to turn around and face you.

“Don't... please,” you plead. “Don't just throw this away. We can work through this, we can fix it. We just need to talk.”

You're not above begging, not if it meant keeping her from walking out that door. You had pride once, but it has shattered into pieces. Now you are just a trembling, broken mess, desperate to keep her with you.

You desperately want her to turn around and look at you. To see that this wasn't what you wanted, that you didn't want things to end like this. “Violet, please,” you repeat. “I love you. I love you, please don't—please don't leave me.”

“There's nothing left to talk about,” she says. “There's nothing to fix. We're over. Done.”

All the hope, all the love, all the dreams you'd had together—it was all falling apart in front of you. Because Vi, the woman you were sworn to spend the rest of your life with, is walking out that damn door, leaving you alone in the silence of the apartment.

This can't be real. It has to be a nightmare. You will wake up, and she'll be there beside you, holding you like she always did.

You found yourself looking around, half expecting to see her sitting on the couch or coming out of the kitchen. But she's not there. She's not here.

Tears start to well up in your eyes. You stumble back until you hit a wall and slide down to the floor. Your hands came up to your face, trying to hold yourself together. You can't stop the tears or the sobs that wracked your body. You can't stop wishing she’s still here with you, in your arms, where she belonged.

You clutch at the thin fabric of your shirt. It hurts, everything hurts. Your head, your chest, your heart. You can't remember ever feeling like this. You can't remember ever feeling so alone and broken. You curl up on the floor, your whole body shaking, your tears leaving dark spots on the hardwood floor.

Every memory you had of you and Vi flashes through your mind. Your first date, your first kiss, your first time. All the happy memories, the laughter, the love.

But all of it was tainted now, stained by the knowledge that it is over.

You thought you knew pain before, but this... this is a new level of hell.

—

2 DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS, PRESENT

“You fucked up.”

“Thanks, Powder. Real insightful,” Vi mutters, rubbing her forehead. She's sitting in an armchair, surrounded by her family.

Claggor shifts in his seat, Mylo just rolls his eyes, and Silco and Vander exchange a glance.

“Hey, come on. Don't be so hard on Vi,” Claggor says, eyebrows furrowing.

Mylo snorts. “Yeah, she's already down after ending her four-year relationship. No need to pile on.”

Powder just shrugs. “I'm just saying what we're all thinking.”

Caggor sighs. “Let's just... drop the topic of the breakup, alright? it's in the past. There's nothing we can do about it now.”

Vander nods, a pensive look on his face. Mylo slouches back against the couch. “What's the point of us all sitting here bitching about it? it's not gonna change anything.”

Powder huffs. “I still think Vi should've handled it differently.”

“And I still think you should mind your own damn business,” Vi mutters, glaring at Powder.

Claggor glances at Silco and Vander, silently pleading with them to step in before it becomes an all-out argument. but neither of them say anything.

“What would you have done differently?” Powder snaps. 

Mylo leans forward in his seat. “This should be good.”

Claggor just rubs at his temples. This is going to turn into a shouting match.

Vander leans his elbows on his knees, sighing. “Alright, let's all just calm down-”

“We are calm,” both Vi and Powder say at the same time. They both glance at each other, and Vi frowns.

“Oh yeah, sure, real calm.” Vi scoffs.

Vander rubs his face. “Can we all just chill-”

“No!” Powder snaps. “I'm not gonna chill! Vi just-”

Mylo grins. “This is great. It's like a soap opera.”

Claggor pinches the bridge of his nose. “Can you both stop arguing?”

Powder is glaring defiantly at Vi. “No, I'm not going to stop. You need to listen-”

“Oh, I need to listen? you're the one-”

Vander cuts them off. “Both of you, shut your damn mouths!”

The room falls silent. Everyone looks at Vander. Powder huffs, slouching back on the couch. Silco gives Vander a nod of appreciation.

Claggor looks relieved the arguing is over... for now, anyway. Mylo is visibly disappointed. “Man, I was just about to get the popcorn.”

Vander glances around the room, his gaze coming to rest on Powder, Mylo, and Claggor. “You three, get out.”

“Hey!” Powder protests.

Mylo grumbles, “Why do we-”

Vander raises a hand, cutting Mylo off. “No arguing. Get out. Now.”

Powder grumbles, shooting a glare in Vi's direction before storming out of the room. Claggor and Mylo follow, both of them looking slightly offended. The room falls silent once the door shuts behind Claggor.

Silco sits quietly, his hands folded in his lap. Vi looks at him for a moment before shifting her glare to the carpet.

Vander sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Christ,” he mutters. He looks tired, which is understandable. “Now, can we have an actual civil conversation this time?” No one says anything, so Vander takes that as a yes. He glances at Silco, a silent question in his eyes. Silco looks at Vi for a moment before turning to Vander and giving a slight nod. Vander sighs, sitting back in his armchair. “Alright, I'm just going to say it. Why didn't you tell us?”

Vi glances up, her eyes meeting Vander's. There's a pause before she speaks. “Because,” she starts. “I...I didn't want to deal with all this bullshit,” she gestures around the room. “I knew you'd all react this way, and…” she trails off, rubbing at her face.

Silco chuckles. “You thought you could just avoid dealing with it?”

Vander shoots him a glare.

Vi sighs, sinking into the armchair. “Look, I know I should have told you all sooner, alright? but I was-”

“Being a coward?”

She clenches her jaw, and she snaps, “I wasn't being a coward. I was just…”

“Stalling,” Silco adds, raising his eyebrows.

“Fine. I was stalling. Are you happy now? i didn't want to deal with the questions, or the pity, or the-”

“You didn't want to deal with the support?” Vander interrupts,

Vi looks at the carpet, her hands clenching into fists. “I don't need the support, okay? I'm doing fine on my own.”

Silco snorts. “Clearly you were really fine.”

Vander shakes his head. “Vi, we're a family. You should have come to us-”

Vi snaps, standing up. “And what could you have done, huh? would you have fixed my relationship? found me someone new?”

Vander opens his mouth to respond but closes it.

Vi throws her hands up. “Exactly. Nothing. I didn't tell you all because it'd be pointless. Because it's just a breakup. It's over. There's nothing you can do about it. It's in the past, so why does it-”

Vander cuts her off. “Why does it matter? is that what you were about to say?”

Vi's shoulders sag, and she nods.

Vander stands up as well and stares her down. “It matters because—because we care. Because you shut us out, because you made us think you were fine, when you were not.”

Vi scowls, her arms crossing over her chest. “Why does it matter? why do you all care so damn much?”

“Maybe because you've been moping around for a month,” Silco says. 

Vi looks around the room. “So, wait a minute, you knew?”

“'Course we knew. You think you're good at hiding things?” Silco raises an eyebrow. 

Vander sighs, ignoring Silco's comment. “We just don't want to push you.”

“Well, that explains it.” Vi glares at them both. "That explains why you invited her here."

Vander and Silco exchange a glance. “Vander and I... we both knew your little play,” Silco scoffs, lounging in his chair. 

Vi's eyes widen in disbelief. “What?”

“We just wanted to see how long you'd keep this up.”

Vi is stunned, her arms falling to her sides. “You all just... let me make a fool of myself?”

“You were doing that on your own,” Silco adds.

Vi sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I...it's for the sake of appearances, okay?” she scowls, hating that she has to even explain herself. “Because I didn't want all this bullshit over the holidays. It's Christmas. I didn't want to ruin Christmas for everyone.”

Silco stands up from his chair. “You were worried about us? you had to fake a relationship just to keep us happy?” he shakes his head. “What are we, children?”

Vi frowns. “That's not-”

Vander raises a hand, cutting her off. “No, Silco's right. You do treat us like children.”

Silco scoffs. “You always act like you're responsible for everyone, that you have to keep us all happy. When are you going to realize that we're adults? We can handle things ourselves. You don't have to fake a damn relationship just to make us happy.”

Vander sighs. “You think we can't handle knowing about your breakup? that we'll break if things aren't perfect?”

Silco walks around, sliding a hand through his hair. “You act like everything's your fault, like you're responsible for all of us. When are you going to stop acting like a damn martyr?”

Vi says nothing, just clenches her jaw.

“You do this all the time, hiding when you're not okay, pretending that you're fine. Do you even realize how much damage you're doing to yourself?”

Vander nods, stepping forward to look Vi in the eye. “You're driving yourself crazy. You need to learn to let us take care of you for once.” He gently squeezes her bicep. “You need to stop trying to protect everyone. Start worrying about yourself for once.”

“I just didn't want to burden anyone,” Vi whispers.

“Stop acting like you're a burden. You're not a burden, Vi. We care about you. We want to help you.” Silco lets out a huff, “We're family. You should be depending on us. You can lean on us occasionally without the world falling apart.”

Vander gently squeezes Vi's shoulder. “We'll do anything for you, darling, but you gotta let us help you sometimes.”

Vi closes her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. She hates crying in front of them, hates letting them see her like this.

Silco sighs, leaning over to gently dab the tear away with his thumb. “Stop being so damn stubborn, girl. You don't have to handle things on your own.”

Vander gently kisses the top of her head. “You're not alone, Vi. We're here for you. Always.”

Vi sniffs, blinking to stop the tears from continuing.

Vander pulls her into a hug, his arms wrapping around her. “You're not making us miserable, okay? you don't gotta be perfect. Just be you. You're enough for us, kid.”

Vi nods, burying her face in Vander's chest. Silco rubs her back. Vander pulls back from the hug, holding Vi by the shoulders. “Now, we've talked about you,” he says. “What's going on between you and your girl?”

“We talked,” she mumbles. “I asked her to...give me another chance. To fix things…”

Vander and Silco share a look, a smirk on Silco's face. Vander clears his throat. “And what did she say?”

“She said...she'll think about it.”

Vander nods, while Silco's smirk widens. “Is that so?” he hums. “You finally grew some balls and asked her.”

Vi shoots Silco a glare. “You don't know a damn thing,” she grumbles, her cheeks burning.

“It's a step in the right direction, regardless.” Vander pats Vi on the back. “If she says she'll think about it, then she's considering it.”

“And if they say yes…” Silco says, then he glances at Vander, the two sharing a chuckle.

Vander pats Vi on the back again. “Then you'll get your girl back.” He pokes her cheek. “So, don't give up. Don't lose hope.”

Silco grins, “We just have to wait.”

“Waiting.”

“Which you're not so great with,” Silco snorts. “Anyway, if she says yes, remember to thank us.”

“You guys didn't do anything.” 

Vander and Silco share a smirk, the same thought clearly going through their minds.

Vander grins. “We didn't do anything at all.”

Silco nods. “Absolutely nothing.”

—

1 MONTH BEFORE THE BREAK UP, MARRIAGE

You're lying your head on Vi's lap, enjoying the feeling of her fingers running through your hair. You look up at her, watching her face as you speak, “Hey Vi?”

She pauses, her fingers falling still for a moment. She looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “What's up?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” she says, her hands resuming at running through your hair.

“Have you ever thought about marriage?”

Her fingers stills, just a tiny flinch that she quickly tried to hide. But you noticed.  “Not much.” Vi shrugs. “What about you?”

You can hear the way her heart is thudding, how her words sound so strained. You reach up and take one of her hands, gently running your fingers across the back of it. You see her reaction. The way her eyes widen and her jaw is tense. It's not hard not to notice—you're literally lying on her lap, looking up at her. The topic of marriage suddenly came up out of nowhere.

“I've been thinking about it a lot, actually... marriage, I mean.”

“Marriage, huh?”

“Yeah..”

You're mentally freaking out. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can feel how your stomach is doing backflips. You want to desperately know what she's thinking. Are you freaking her out? what is going on in her head? is she disgusted at the thought of marrying you?

“Is that so?”

She is trying so damn hard to sound unphased, but you know her too well. You know her body language, the way her ears go slightly red when she is flustered, how tense her muscles become when she is nervous. 

“Just wondering what it'd be like, I guess,” you continue. You shift on your spot. The feeling of her fingers running through your hair is pleasant, but it is so hard to focus on that feeling when your stomach is flipping over itself every few seconds. “I'm just curious,” you add. “I can't help picturing it and wondering what it'd be like to marry you someday.”

Vi is silent for a moment, her fingers stopping in your hair. She licks her lips, trying to come up with a response. “Marriage,” she says again. “That's uhh…” she swallows, trying to compose herself. She starts playing with your hair again, trying to give her hands something to do to hide the way they are shaking. “It's a big deal.” She pauses. “Why—why are you even thinking about that stuff? we're too young.”

The only sound you can hear is the thump of your heart in your ears. You can feel yourself start to feel nauseous. This is the conversation you wanted to have, but now that it is actually happening, you wish you could take it all back.

“I mean.. I'm not saying I actually wanna get married right now.” This is not going well. It is not going well at all. But you continue, trying to make yourself seem uninterested. “It's just a thought... just a daydream, really. We're way too young for that kinda stuff.”

You're hoping that by downplaying it, calling it some silly fantasy, you would ease the tension in Vi's body. That maybe she will just laugh it off, make a joke about how you are an idiot. “Yeah, right, getting married to me?” she'll say, her cocky smirk on her lips, her shoulders slumping with relief.

But she didn't. She didn't brush it off. She didn't make a joke. Instead, the room is so silent.

Vi's fingers continue to run through your hair, but they are trembling, their pace a little slower than before. She's not saying anything, and that is making you even more nervous.

You don't know what to do, so you try to make another joke. “Can you imagine it?” you force out a laugh. “You and me getting married. Ridiculous, right?”

Then again, she didn't laugh. The corner of her lip curls up into a sort of half-smirk, but it looks like it's forced. Her eyes dart to the side, a clear sign she is distracted by her thoughts. She swallows, her hands still nervously fidgeting with your hair. What is going on in her mind? why is she so quiet? The longer the silence drags on, the more anxious you become. You want to reach up and shake her to snap her out of it. 

But you didn't, of course. “It will be a disaster.” You force out another laugh, hoping that she will finally talk. “Can you imagine going down the aisle in a wedding dress?” you continue. “Me, dragging you up to the altar so we can say our vows and exchange rings.”

The smile on your face is strained. Please say something, Vi.

“You will probably wear some suit that doesn't even fit you right,” you continue, the words pouring out of your mouth faster now that the panic is setting in. “You'll trip as you walk down the aisle and then fall on your ass during the first dance.” You want her to smile, to laugh, something. Anything that will give you an indication that your marriage joke hasn't gone completely wrong. But Vi is still so damn quiet.

“Then, when we finally get home for our ‘wedding night,’ you'll just…” You cut yourself off, realizing that you are about to make a dirty joke. Not the time. “Just—you will probably fall asleep immediately, right?” You sound like an idiot right now. “Then what will we do? It'll be like, our honeymoon or something, and you'll be snoring and-”

Shut up, your mind hiss. It's like you can't stop yourself from rambling like an idiot. You are starting to sweat.

“Stop talking.”

The tone of her voice made your heart skip a beat. She sounds anxious... or scared... what is going on in her head right now? is the conversation making her as nervous as it is to you?

Vi suddenly pulls her hand away from your hair, sitting up. You sit up as well to look at her. 

“I'm getting hungry.”

It's clear that she doesn't want to talk about marriage, at least for now. The conversation made her feel uncomfortable... but you don't know why. Is she really that opposed to the idea of marrying you? or is she just flustered by the thought of a future with you?

You try to push those thoughts away, try to dismiss them, and act like the whole conversation didn't just happen. Vi is already changing the subject, so you went along with it, putting your usual 'casual' tone back on.

“You're always hungry,” you tease, forcing a smile to spread on your lips. “I swear, you eat more than a goddamn goliath.”

“I don't eat more than a goliath,” Vi protests. “I just have a big appetite.” Her eyes still weren't quite meeting yours. Why wouldn't she look at you?

“And besides,” she adds. “It's not my fault I need a lot of energy to kick so much ass on a daily basis,” she flexed her arms. “Got to keep these biceps strong somehow, right princess?”

“Your biceps aren't that impressive.”

Blatant lie, you both knew it. Vi's stupid strong, not to mention she's absolutely ripped. She can probably bench press a goddamn elephant. She doesn't even have to respond. Her smirk tells you that she knows damn well she can destroy you in a wrestling match.

“Oh yeah? don't think my biceps are that impressive, huh?” she teases, flexing again. “How about I throw you over my shoulder right now, then? carry you around like a goddamn princess. Then you'll see just how impressive they are.”

“Oh, you wo-,” you begin, but before you can finish your sentence, Vi suddenly lurches forward. She scoops you up, hoisting you effortlessly onto her shoulder. You let out a strangled gasp, your hands immediately grabbing onto the back of her tank top. “This isn't fair!” Your voice comes out as more of a squeak. How does she make it look so easy to carry your heavy ass around like a sack of potatoes?

“What was that about my biceps not being impressive, princess?” she taunts. She carries you around. You're like a goddamn ragdoll in her grip, not that you're complaining...

“I have to admit,” you grumble. “I kind of like this view.” The words came out of your mouth before you could stop them. Shit. 

Vi's smirk widens. “Oh really?” she drawls. “You like the view? then I'll be sure to give you a better one.” With that, she kicks open the bedroom door and carries you inside.

—

2 DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS, PRESENT

Vi fidgets nervously outside Powder's room. She takes a deep breath and finally knocks. “Powder?” she calls out.

What if Powder doesn't want to even talk to her? She screwed up. Who's to say Powder won't be pissed at her?! Just as Vi's starting to think about backing out, the door creaks open. There, powder stands before her.

“Can I come in?”

Powder hesitates, studying her sister for a moment. Finally, she steps aside and opens the door wider. “Come on in.”

Vi sighs in relief, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. Powder sits down on her bed, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. She doesn't make eye contact. Vi shifts on her feet, standing in the middle of the room. She clears her throat. “So... can we talk?”

Powder hums in response. She slowly moves to sit down beside Powder. She's close, but not too close. “Thought you and…” she mumbles, “are still together.”

Vi shrugs. “The thing we did on Christmas was just for appearance. Dumb decision, really.”

Powder keeps her gaze on her lap, picking at a loose string on her sleeve. “Breakup must've been hard, huh?”

“That's one way to put it.”

“It was your decision, wasn't it?”

“Yeah... I was the one who broke things off.”

Powder nods, still picking absently at the string. Vi fidgets with a strand of her hair as she tries to think of what to say. But Powder beats her to the punch. “Can I ask... why?”

Vi sucks in a sharp breath. She's not sure how to answer that… how can she explain how stupid and scared she felt? how she pushes you away as a result? She wants to just give some bullshit answer, but there's something in the set of Powder's jaw that stops her. Powder deserves some form of honesty.

“It's complicated…”

Powder looks up at her. “Complicated, how?” she asks. “Did she hurt you...?”

“No, no. She'll never hurt me. Nothing like that.”

Powder nods.

“It's just... she's good. She's too good for me, Powder. She's always been too good for me.”

“You sound like an idiot.”

Vi huffs. “Hey-”

“You are an idiot if you really think she's 'too good for you.'”

Vi sighs, slouching forward.

Powder continues. “She stayed by your side for four years. She put up with so much of your bullshit, and she still loved you throughout it all. What the hell makes you think you're not good enough for them? seriously, why do you always do that? why do you always have this dumb idea that you're not worth it?”

Vi looks down at her lap. “She's kind, and smart, and beautiful, and strong...and you've seen her. She's gorgeous, Powder... and then there's me.”

“Don't give me that crap, sis. You're just as strong, if not stronger, and you're definitely not bad to look at. So that's not the real reason, is it?”

Vi bites her lip. Okay, powder definitely has a point. But she can't exactly tell Powder the full truth. But there's no way Powder will believe any more of her bullshit excuses.

Powder looks at her. “Stop trying to lie and bullshit. The truth. Why did you push her away? just tell me the truth.”

“I was scared, okay? I was scared that maybe I wasn't good enough for her, or that maybe she'll wake up one day and realize she can be with someone much better than me, or that she'll get sick of my bullshit-” She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “I'm just so scared, Powder. I'm scared of being a burden, of not being able to keep her happy, of not being good enough, and it just keeps getting worse, and I feel all this pressure building up, and I panicked. So I did what I usually do, and I ran. I pushed them away, just like I always do.”

“You're a coward, Vi,” Powders says again. “A complete coward. You're so afraid of screwing things up that you end up screwing things up anyway!”

Vi winces at that.

“I watched the two of you for four years. I saw how you two were together. What you had was real, and you threw it away because you couldn't get it through your thick skull that she really does want you?”

Vi feels her stomach twist. “It's... it's not that I don't believe she wants me. I know she does, but I just... I-”

“No 'but' here, Vi! Seriously, you're so damn frustrating.”

“It's hard!” Vi says, frustrated. “I feel like I can't be what they need. I'm a mess. I'm always so angry and on edge, and I get into fights, and I've got so much damn baggage. Why would they want to deal with that when they can be with someone stable and normal?”

“Holy shit, you're such a dumbass. Do you think that she is some perfect person? She has her own issues, her own problems. Nobody is perfect, and she knew that. She knew your flaws, she knew what your life was like, she knew everything, and yet she still chose to be with you for four years. Doesn't that tell you anything?!”

Vi swallows. When Powder puts it like that, it does make her feel stupid. She swallows again, looking up at her sister. “I know it probably doesn't mean much now, but... I really do love her. She's all I've thought about...I miss her so much…”

“'Course you do. Because you just did the dumbest thing you could have done. You let the love of your life slip through your fingers because you were just too damn stupid to see what you had right in front of you.”

“I know, I.. I don't know what possessed me to think she'd be better off without me.”

Powder raises an eyebrow. “Your own insecurities? your lack of self-worth? just a guess.”

“Shut it, powder,” Vi grumbles.

“Hey, don't get pissy with me. You're the one who messed up, not me,” Powder quips. “But anyway, I've heard enough of your stupid whining,” she huffs. “I'm not going to just sit here and let you drown in your self-pity. What the hell am I being the mature one in this situation for?”

“I hate it when you're right.” 

Powder snorts and grins. “Then you must hate being around me all the time, since I'm always right.”

Vi rolls her eyes and shoves her. “'kay smartass.”

“I just want you to be happy, sis.”

“I am happy,” Vi mutters.

“You're only saying that to shut me up.” Vi tries to protest, but Powder holds up one finger, cutting her off. “I know you. I know when you're bullshitting.”

“What are you, a mind reader now?”

“Pretty much,” Powder replies.

Vi rolls her eyes, shoving powder again. “Oh, shut up,” she pauses, then looks at her sister warmly. “I love you, Pow… and thank you. You don't sugarcoat, do you?”

Powder smiles, bumping her shoulder against Vi's. “I love you too. You're a pain in my ass, but I love you. Just...promise me something.”

“What?” she asks.

“Promise me you'll be more honest about your feelings. And I don't just mean with me, I mean in general. Stop keeping it all bunched up in here.” Powder taps Vi's chest with one finger. “Don't just throw something good away because you're scared it'll end eventually anyway. If you love her as much as you say you do, then you have to make up for what a dumbass you were and... at least try to make it work. Because she's... she's special, Vi.”

Vi hesitates but finally sighs, closing her eyes. “Fine, I promise.”

Powder hums. “Pinky promise?”

Vi raises one eyebrow. “Really? Are we ten right now?”

Powder grins, holding out a pinky finger in front of Vi's face. “Come on. Do it, loser.”

“You're ridiculous,” Vi tries to bite back a laugh. “Fine.” She links her pinky with powder's. “Pinky promise.”

“Perfect. Remember, you're not allowed to go back on it now. I'll strangle you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, boss.”

“Oh wait-” Powder's eyes light up, then a grin splits her face. “You remember how we'd always have pillow fights when we were younger?”

Vi groans, already knowing where this is going. “Please, no.”

But it's too late. Powder is already grabbing a pillow off the couch and whacking Vi in the back of the head. “C'mon, it'll be fun,” she grins.

Vi rubs the spot on her head that powder just hit. “Oh god,” she groans again.

Powder chuckles, tossing her another pillow. “No getting out of it,” she teases.

She catches the pillow. “Fine,” she says. “But I'm kicking your ass.”

Powder laughs, already readying her own pillow. “As if. I'm more agile than you are.”

Vi scoffs. “You wish,” and thus, the pillow fight begins.

—

2 YEARS BEFORE THE BREAKUP, FIRST SNOW

You're sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels on the TV, trying to find something to watch on another boring Friday day. Suddenly, you hear Vi calling out your name, and you look over to see her leaning against the window.

“It's snowing,” she shouts eagerly. “Babe look!”

You chuckle. You get up from the couch, walking over to the window to stand beside her. You can see the snow falling slowly outside.

Vi glances over at you. “It's snowing,” she repeats. She's practically pressed up against the window, her nose almost touching the glass as she watches the snow fall. She's grinning when she looks at you and exclaims, “It's our first snow of the year!”

She suddenly grabs your arms and pulls you closer, forcing you up against the window too. She presses a quick kiss to your cheek before she puts her hands on the window sill and leans out. Snowflakes are falling around her, and she tips her head back, catching them on her tongue.

“Come on,” she urges. “Taste the snow.” Without waiting for an answer, she grabs your shoulder and pulls you towards her, planting a cold, wet kiss on your lips. The snow that was in her mouth is now in yours. “See?” she laughs, pulling away.

Still holding on to your arm, she prevents you from moving away from the window. Instead, she guides your hand up to the glass. “Make a wish on the first snowflake,” she instructs.

“You really want me to make a stupid wish on the stupid snowflake?” you tease.

“Yes,” Vi responds bluntly. She squeezes your hand, her grip tightening around your fingers. “Now come on, make a wish.”

“Alright,” you relent, shaking your head in mock defeat. You tap your finger against the glass, watching as a single snowflake drifts down. You let out a breath and close your eyes, making your wish.

A yacht and a mansion would be nice, and while we were at it, I should wish for no taxes and free college. Maybe I'll even win the lottery. Win a million dollars. No, fifty million. I'm feeling lucky. I'll buy us a house with fifteen rooms. Ten christmas trees, one for every room. We'll even have a room for our christmas trees. I want to find a cure for cancer. Discover a never-before-seen species of shark, maybe a mermaid.

But most of it all, I want to spend another Christmas with her.

“There,” you say, looking back at her. “I made a stupid wish.”

“Good,” she says, grinning. She's satisfied with your compliance, then she releases her grip on your hand. She slides her arms around your waist, pulling you closer, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I hope your stupid wish comes true.”

She stays like that for a moment, her body pressed up against yours as you both watch the snow continue to fall outside. After a few silent minutes, she moves her head slightly and rests her forehead on your shoulder instead of her chin. Her voice is quiet, muffled a little against your shirt. “Promise me something.”

You glance down at her. “What is it?” you murmur, bringing your hand up to brush your fingers through her hair.

She lifts her head up so that her cheek now rests on your shoulder. Her fingers twist into the material of your shirt, clinging on tightly. “Promise me we'll spend every day through winter together, even the cold nights. Promise me you'll keep the fireplace going.”

Your hand gently massaging the back of her neck, your fingers playing with the soft hairs there. “I promise,” you whisper into her hair. “Every day. All winter. Even the cold nights. I promise.”

She hums in response, satisfied, and nuzzles closer to you. She pulls you closer, and you can feel her heartbeat—the steady thump thump thump against your chest. She mumbles something against your shirt, the words unintelligible. When you look down, you can see her cheeks are red.

“Whatcha saying?” You tug at a strand of her pink hair before you reach up and trace the edge of her ear with your fingertips.

She shivers when you touch her ear, and a grin spreads across your face. She buries her head further in your shirt, still mumbling something against the material. It's muffled, but you can still hear the last part of what she's saying.

“Love you.”

You can't stop yourself from smiling. You pull her head back so that she's looking up at you now. You want to see her face when you respond. You brush her cheek with your thumb before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her mouth.

“I love you too.”

—

5 DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS, PRESENT

Vi paces back and forth in her room, checking her phone every couple of seconds. It's been five days. Five days, and still nothing. She can wait. Yes, she can wait.

You've kept Vi on the edge of her seat for days. Which is why Vi's heart was practically beating out of her chest as her phone dinged. She practically pounces on it, grabbing it off the bedside table as she checks the notification.

Please say yes. Please say yes.

She taps the screen, opening the notification.

...it's a meme from Powder, another stupid cat video.

She texts back, “Powder. One of these days I'm going to turn off your damn notifications. Stop sending me stupid cat videos.”

Powder immediately replies, a picture of her flipping off the camera. Below it, she's added the text “love you too.”

Vi rolls her eyes, tossing her phone onto the bedside table. She flops onto her bed, sprawling out and glaring at her ceiling.

She sighs. How is it that she's been reduced to checking her phone every thirty seconds, jumping every time a notification goes off?

Pathetic.

Vi looks down at herself, looking at the sweater that she's wearing. It's an ugly-christmas-themed one that you gave her. The colors clash, there's patterns thrown in everywhere, and the whole thing is absolutely atrocious.

and it's her favorite thing in the world.

She wraps her arms around herself, snuggling up on the bed and burying her face into the fabric.

The stupid sweater smells like you. 

She has become a mess these last five days. Not knowing if you will take her back has been slowly driving her mad. She can't even take her mind off you, especially since she's wearing this stupid sweater. It's stupid. This is just a sweater. An ugly sweater made of scratchy fabric. But she can't help clinging to it, desperate to remember what you felt like.

She wants you.

She wants you here, snuggled up with her on the bed. She wants you to wrap your arms around her, pull her close, bury your face in her hair, and sigh into her ear. She wants you to whisper to her, tell her that you miss her too.

Vi wants you back.

She knows she was the one who left you, so why the hell is she the one losing her mind? She's the one who ended things. She's the one who left you. So why can't she stop thinking about how good it would be to feel your lips on hers? She can picture it so clearly. The feeling of your mouth against hers. The taste of your lips

She has become a pathetic pining mess and she hates it.

Vi grabs her phone again, unlocking it and scrolling to her gallery. Swiping through the many photos she has saved of you and her. Pictures of you in her hoodie, pictures of you cooking her breakfast, pictures of you two with your foreheads pressed together.

Her thumb hovers over her favorite picture. It's a candid shot of you wearing one of her shirts and her favorite leather jacket as your hair is ruffled with her fingers.

Vi sighs, heart clenching when she looks at the picture.

If she can go back in time and punch herself in the head, she would. She'll grab past 3 months Vi by the collar and shake her, telling her not to be such an idiot. “You're gonna regret this, dumbass,” she'll say. And god, she does regret it.

She doesn't even have a good reason why she left in the first place. She's just scared and confused. Now look where that ended her. Alone on her bed, wearing an ugly ass sweater, pining over you like some pathetic idiot.

Vi locks her phone and tosses it aside with a groan. She grabs a pillow, burying her face in it and letting out a muffled scream. “This is ridiculous.”

She's a mess. She's angry, she's frustrated, she's hurt, and it's all her own damn fault. She's the one who pushed you away. She's the one who ended everything. She's the one who walked out of the door and slammed it shut. Then five days ago, she had the nerve to ask you if you could give her another chance.

Like that will make everything all better. Like you'll instantly take her back after she treats you like crap.

That's not how life works, idiot.

She wants you to come rushing through the door, push her down on the bed, and pin her against the pillows. She wants you to kiss her until she can't breathe. She wants to feel your touch, kiss, and nibble every part of her body.

And at the same time, she wants to be left alone, to wallow in her own misery. She wants you to stay the hell away from her. 

She hates feeling like this. She hates how her heart beats harder every time her phone buzzes and then immediately sinks when it's not a text message from you.

She hates her dreams—no night goes by that she doesn't dream about you—about your face, your body, your mouth on hers. She wants to feel your skin against hers, hear your voice in her ear, taste you on her tongue.

She's a pathetic, desperate, needy, pining mess.

Vi doesn't even realize she's doing it. Her fingers tangle in her hair, absently toying with the pink strands. Her hand drifts down to fiddle with her ear, tracing the edge of her piercing just like you used to do.

She almost closes her eyes but stops herself.

She misses you. She misses the little things about you.

The way you scrunch your nose when you're confused, the way you bite your lip when you focus, the way you hum songs under your breath when you're alone, the way you get this adorable smile on your face whenever you catch her looking at you.

She misses everything about you.

—

4 YEARS BEFORE THE BREAKUP, FIRST CHRISTMAS

“I should tell Vander to decorate the house like that,” Vi says, her eyes reflecting the Christmas lights as she looks around the neighborhood that looks like it was covered in enough lights to power a small city.

“It would cost a fortune,” you point out. “The electricity bill would be skyrocketing, not to mention the cost of all those lights.”

“Come on,” Vi protests, wheedling. “It wouldn't be that expensive, and just imagine the look on ol' Vander's face when he sees his bill next month.”

“Don't you want to give him and the other old farts in this neighborhood an aneurysm?”

“That would be great, and oh—we could also get lights in the shape of a huge middle finger,” she suggests. “And maybe a giant santa statue right in the front lawn, with a sack big enough to carry a goddamn mountain.”

“Imagine the looks on everyone's faces when they drive by,” Vi continues. “They'll think they're hallucinating, seeing Vander's house covered in every color of light imaginable, with that huge ass santa statue waving a middle finger like a damn flag.”

The snow crunches under your boots as you and Vi walk through the neighborhood.

She doesn't shut up about how much she loves this time of year, from the chilly nights to the smell of pine trees to the Christmas movies and music that seems to be playing everywhere. 

“Seriously,” she sighs, her breath fogging up in the cold air. “This is my favorite time of year. Everything is so cozy and pretty and festive.” She reaches down and takes your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. “Plus, I get to see all the cute couples out and about, all cozied up in their winter clothes, kissing under the mistletoe…” She smirks, nudging you with her shoulder. “Makes me want to do cheesy cute things with you,” she starts whistling a tune, swinging your hands.

“We could go caroling around the neighborhood, or maybe build a snowman out in the yard, or-” Vi suddenly stops in her tracks.

Before you can ask what's inside her mind, she grabs your hand and starts pulling you along.

“Come on, I have something to show you!”

You stumble after her, trying to keep up with her as she practically drags you through the snow-covered streets.

Finally, she stops running and looks over at you. “Ta-dah!”

You look at the spot she's brought you to. It's a small park, and in the middle of it stands a tree. Not too small, but not too big.

“Look,” she states, looking over at the tree. “Now, stay right here,” she instructs, pushing you to stand under the tree. “And don't leave. I'll be right back, okay?” She winks at you before darting off, leaving you standing alone under the tree.

What is she up to?

You glance around, trying to figure out what Vi has in mind. It's getting cold, and the snow is starting to seep through your shoes. A few minutes pass, and still no sign of Vi anywhere. Just when you're starting to get impatient, you hear a voice behind you.

“Close your eyes.”

You turn around to see Vi standing there, a smirk on her face. 

“Please, close your eyes, and no peeking.”

Reluctantly, you close your eyes.

“Keep them shut,” she warns. “Don't even think about peeking.”

You hear rustling and shifting, and then some sort of...clink? what on earth is she doing?

“No cheating, okay?”

Minutes and minutes and minutes pass by, it feels like you wait for an hour. All is quiet. There's only the sound of the wind and the crunch of snow. Then, you suddenly feel her hands settling on your shoulders, positioning you exactly how she wants you.

“Don't open your eyes yet,” she whispers in your ear.

Her hands slide down from your shoulders, trailing down your arms and then coming to rest on your waist.

“Okay,” she murmurs, adjusting your position. “You can open your eyes now.”

You blink a few times, adjusting from the darkness of having them closed, and then you look up. Vi has strung a bunch of Christmas lights up in the tree. It's almost like a scene from a cheesy Christmas movie. It's so sappy, but it's perfect.

“What do you think?” she asks. “Pretty damn great, huh?” she grins, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. She pulls you closer to her, your back pressing against her chest. She smells like a christmas treat. Just like the cookies you love to eat.

“I figured all the best cheesy Christmas movie stuff needs a perfect, romantic setting,” she says, her fingers absently tracing patterns on your stomach. “And what's more romantic than standing under the tree, with the Christmas lights all around us and the snow falling down?” Vi squeezes you tighter, nuzzling into your neck and pressing a light kiss just below your ear.

“And of course,” she mumbles. “We can't have a cheesy Christmas movie moment without some cheesy Christmas music to go along with it.” Vi steps away, going over and plugging in a set of battery-powered speakers. They immediately start playing a Christmas melody.

You watch as she skips back over to you, her hands immediately settling back on your waist. “Now, let's get in position. I want this to be suuuper cheesy.” She waggles her eyebrows and grins again, moving so she's standing in front of you. “Okay, put your hands on my shoulders, and then move a little closer.”

You follow her instructions, placing your hands on her shoulders and stepping forward, closing the gap between the two of you.

“Perfect. That's perfect.” Her hands come to rest on your hips. “Now, we just gotta get one last thing…” Her hands move from your hips, sliding slowly up your sides and over your arms. She grabs your wrists and lifts them up, putting your arms around her neck so your hands are clasped behind her head. “And now,” she murmurs, pulling you even closer. Her eyes flicker down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. “The mistletoe.”

You look up, and sure enough, there it is. A little sprig of mistletoe is hanging from a branch just above your heads.

“Seems like we have the perfect moment to finish off the Christmas movie cliché.”Her other hand is still on your hip, and she's pulling you so close now that you can practically taste her breath as she whispers, “You know what that means, right...?”

Even though you know exactly what she's talking about, you raise an eyebrow and give her a coy smile. “Oh, I don't know... refresh my memory?”

“Yes ma'am.” She then pulls you tight and leans forward, her lips pressing against yours in a soft, slow kiss. It's not at all like her usual passionate, fiery kisses. It's gentler, softer, sweeter. She nips at your bottom lip, her teeth pulling gently before her tongue soothes the redness. She tilts your head back, claiming your mouth in a much deeper kiss.

She pushes you up against the tree, pinning you there and claiming more and more of your mouth. You tighten your arms around her neck, pulling her even closer.

After a few more moments, the two of you finally pull away.

Vi rests her forehead against yours, both of you suddenly breathless from the kiss. Neither of you say a word. The only sound is your ragged breathing and the christmas music from the speaker.

“Well,” Vi murmurs, breaking the silence. She lets out a sigh and then chuckles, pulling back so she can look at your face. “That was pretty damn cheesy.”

“Like you weren't loving every second of it.”

“I would never deny that.” Her hands still on your waist, stroking your stomach. “I'd kiss you under the damn mistletoe all day, every day, if I could.”

“You're such a sap.” You move one hand up to her hair, tangling your fingers in it and toying with one of her pink bangs. “Corny, cheesy sap with a thing for Christmas movie romance.”

She laughs, tilting her head back to give you more access to her hair. “I just want to keep doing this,” Vi murmurs. “I want to keep spending Christmas with you, over and over and over,” she continues. “Every. Single. One. Even when we're old geezers with walkers and false teeth and liver spots, spending Christmas together underneath a tree.”

She pulls you as close, resting her cheek against your shoulder. She buries her face in the crook of your neck, mumbling the words against your skin. “I want to watch you open your Christmas presents. Even when we're both pushing seventy, then I want to watch you open mine,” she sighs. “I want us to argue over holiday decorations because you insist that the garland is crooked, and I don't care if it is.”

She tilts her head to look at you once more. Then she moves to place a kiss on the corner of your lips, then the tip of your nose. “I want to fight with you on the Christmas tree lot over whether we're going to buy a real tree or a plastic tree, but end up getting both just because you refuse to back down.”

She lifts one hand to cup your chin, tilting it up towards her, then moves to press kisses to each of your eyelids. “I want to wake up at three in the morning and sit on the end of our bed in our pajamas, our hair a mess and bags under our eyes, and listen to our kids in their rooms upstairs. Hear them whisper and snicker about the big fat man that's climbing down the chimney…”

She pauses, moving to press a kiss to the space between your eyebrows, to the tip of your nose again. “I want us to make Christmas traditions, even if they're dumb traditions. I want us to bake Christmas cookies and put ornaments on the tree together… even if you complain the whole time and say I'm doing it wrong.”

Then she moves her lips to your cheeks, a kiss to one side, then the other. “I want to go to the grocery store on Christmas eve, because you forgot to buy that one random ingredient that you forgot to put on the list and you refuse to cook without it,” she murmurs, her lips moving to your jaw. 

“And then, I want to watch you fall asleep on the couch in the middle of your favorite Christmas movie, even though you've seen it a hundred times.”

She presses a kiss to your chin, then another to the underside of your jaw. “I want to come home from work late on Christmas eve because I forgot to get a present, and I just know you're gonna say, 'I told you so', but you'll still give me a kiss and tell me to sit my ass down and not worry about any damn gift.”

She smirks against your skin, as she moves back to one of your eyes, placing a kiss to the outer corner. “I just want to spend every Christmas with you. From this one to the next, all the way through when we're old and gray. We can even spend Christmas in our damn graves.”

She pulls her hand away and lets her fingers slide down and find yours, intertwining them together, bringing your hand up to her mouth. She brings the back of your hand to her lips, placing a kiss against your skin. Her thumb gently brushes over your knuckles. Her fingers are calloused and rough, but her touch is soft and delicate, careful not to squeeze too hard.

Her eyes then close, placing your hand on her cheek, leaning into your touch. “Only you,” she murmurs. She turns her head to press a kiss to your palm. “Always you.”

—

6 DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS, PRESENT

You're once again standing in front of Vander's house.

It's been a whirlwind of a year—first the breakup, then the Christmas, and now the New Year's eve. You don't know how to feel. Excited? nervous? worried? you're not quite sure which one. Hell, chances are you're probably feeling all three.

Powder has been nagging you about coming for a couple of days, and your parents wouldn't mind anyway. They're spending the night by themselves in a hotel somewhere, doing the tango or some other bs. So, here you are.

You have a feeling that the family already knows about the breakup. Vi had told you she'd tell them after Christmas, and it's after Christmas. You just hope that it won't be too awkward.

You're here for two reasons.

The first is to celebrate new years with the family, and the second is to talk to Vi.

You need an answer. You need to know why she left. Why she really left.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, then head up to the front door. You knock once, then twice, hoping to god that you won't have to wait long. Footsteps approach from the other side, and you can hear the faint sound of voices coming from the other side of the door. There's laughing, talking, and the shuffling of feet, then the sound of the door opening.

You've barely even processed the fact that the door is open when you're suddenly engulfed in a hug. A pair of arms wraps around you. A familiar scent of cherry blossom invades your senses, and you feel yourself stiffening instinctively.

The woman releases her grip on you, pulling away to look at you with a wide grin. “You made it!” 

“'Course I did,” you reply, a smile on your lips. “You were spam bombing me on every social media you could find. Kinda hard to say no to that.”

“Knew it!” she chirps, then grabs your arm and tugs you inside, shutting the door behind you as she leads you into the house. Following Powder further into the house, the sound of Mylo's voice coming from the living room as he sings loudly and very, very out of tune.

Powder stops at the entrance to the living room and glances over at him. She pauses, her fingers still clamped tightly around your wrist. She glances back at you. “I mean, you're still my friend,” she murmurs. “After you and…” she clears her throat. “After everything.” She doesn't finish her sentence, just looks back at Mylo. He's still singing, clearly oblivious to your presence. His voice breaks on a particular note, the sound of his voice scraping against your ears. Powder shakes her head. “He's awful,” she mutters. “Always has been.”

“I'm almost surprised none of you have tried to stuff a sock in his mouth yet.”

Powder snorts. “Believe me, I tried when I was younger, but Vander said violence is never the answer.” 

“That sounds like Vander.” You can almost picture Vander swatting Powder's hands away and saying some sort of fatherly bullshit about not doing something like that. 

“Yeah,” she grins, mocking her father's demeanor. “'Violence isn't the answer, honey. You and your siblings need to find other ways to figure out your differences. Blah blah blah.' Something like that.” Powder lets go of your wrist, letting her hands fall to her hips. “Anyway,” she says, “there's food in the kitchen. We already ate dinner, but there's snacks if you want any.” She pauses, her eyes drifting to the living room. “Vi's in the living room, so uh…” she stops, her eyes shifting back to you. “You know, just so you know. Get prepared for that or something. I'm gonna go.”

“Yeah,” you reply. “Yeah, I think I might walk around first.”

She smiles again and gives you one last pat on the shoulder before she steps past you and slips into the living room.

You take a second, letting your eyes drift over the decorations. Familiar faces are in family pictures on the wall. There's a few colorful Christmas lights still hung up on the walls.

Upon a second glance around the room, you spot Sevika in the corner, casually puffing on a cigarette. You can't help but wonder how she always manages to get away with that. There's definitely a no-smoking rule in the house, especially during events like this. Apparently that rule doesn't apply to Sevika. She's just enjoying her smoke.

She looks up as you approach, grinning. “Hey there, kid,” she greets as she tilts her head to the side, giving you a once-over. “How's it going?” She blows out a stream of smoke that quickly drifts away.

You try not to cough when the smoke drifts into your face. You give her a half-smile. “It's going,” you reply, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I mean, you know how it is.” You nod your head at the cigarette between her fingers. “I'm surprised Vander hasn't kicked you out yet.”

Sevika grins, the corners of her lips curving into a smirk. She places the cigarette between her lips again, taking a deep drag before exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Believe me,” she replies, “he's threatened to do it about fifty times tonight.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “I can imagine.”

She puffs on the cigarette once more. “He's got that whole 'you're under my roof' speech down pat. I've heard it a hundred times.”

“Yet here you are,” you muse, gesturing at the cigarette in her fingers. “Still taking your chances.”

“I gotta get my cigarette fix.” She grins. She flicks some ash off the end before taking another drag. “Vander can lecture me all he wants, but I'm never giving up my vices.”

You're about to reply to Sevika, but you're interrupted by the sound of a familiar laugh. An arm slides around your shoulders, and you're surprised to see Ekko standing beside you. He grins at you, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Hey stranger,” he teases.

“Hey yourself,” you reply, bumping him with your hip.

He laughs before his eyes drift to Sevika. He looks from the cigarette in her fingers up to her face, then back to the cigarette again, then back to her face. He gives her a disapproving look, and Sevika just grins around the cigarette in her mouth. “Are you really smoking in the house?" Ekko asks, arching an eyebrow. 

Sevika takes a puff on her cigarette and shrugs. “I already told the kid, I live for the thrill,” she replies, shooting you a wink. “Besides, it helps me relax.”

Ekko rolls his eyes. “Of course it does,” he mutters. He turns to you. “Don't follow in her footsteps, got it?”

You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, yeah,” you say, waving him off. “I think I can handle myself, dad.”

“Hey!” Ekko exclaims. He places a hand on his chest. “I just don't want you to end up like some people.” He casts a pointed look in Sevika's direction. He then leads you away from Sevika, pulling you into the living room where the karaoke set up is. All of your friends are crowded around it, and Mylo and Powder are squabbling over the karaoke.

Claggor is perched on the floor watching his siblings, and he turns his head and smiles when he sees you. “Hey, you made it!” he says, getting to his feet. He claps you on the back, pulling you into a hug.

“Yeah, guess I couldn't keep away,” you joke, returning Claggor's hug. “I'm surprised you didn't try to stop me, honestly.”

Claggor grins and releases you. “Eh, I get it,” he says. “I know it's a little complicated for you to be here, but still... you're always welcome here. You know that, right?”

You nod, giving him a smile. “Yeah, I do.”

He pats your shoulder again, then turns back to Mylo and Powder, who are bickering again over who gets to go first.

Your eyes dart across the living room. And then, there she is, viola! sitting on the couch, she doesn't notice you at first. Until, a moment later, her eyes drift your way as you and Ekko walk over together.

She sits up a bit straighter as you walk closer, and she's looking at you too long for your liking.

Powder glances over at her older sister curiously when she sits up straighter. Mylo glances at Vi too, his eyes narrowing as he notices the look in her eyes. He looks like he's about to say something, but Powder reaches over and smacks the back of his arm, shaking her head.

He scowls at her. “What was that for?!” he growls.

Powder shoots him a look. “Shut it.”

Ekko grins, taking an open spot on the couch. He pats the spot next to him, gesturing for you to sit down. You glance at the spot, and it is...right next to Vi. You reluctantly take a seat next to her, making sure you sit a few good inches away.

Ekko glances between everyone, clearly noticing the strange atmosphere. “So…”

He's about to ask a question when Vi turns her gaze over to him, giving him such a death glare that he immediately stops talking. Powder shoots him a scathing look as well, her expression telling him to ‘keep your mouth shut’. Ekko laughs nervously, clearly realizing that he was just about to ask a question he definitely shouldn't have asked.

Eventually, Mylo clears his throat. “So, who's up for karaoke?” he asks, trying to break the weird atmosphere.

Powder perks up, her eyes lighting up. “I'll sing next!”

Mylo scoffs. "No way, it's my turn!”

Claggor rolls his eyes. “Seriously? you were just up there.”

While the two boys bicker and Powder starts whining that she wants a turn, you glance away, your eyes involuntarily landing on Vi. She feels your gaze on her and shifts her eyes to you, and your gazes lock. She doesn't say anything, and the eye contact lingers just a moment longer than it should've. She opens her mouth as if she's about to say something but suddenly looks away. Her eyes fixed on the floor, staring down at it for a moment. Finally, she turns to look at you again, lifting her gaze to meet yours.

“Happy New Year's Eve,” she says, giving you a strained smile.

“Yeah,” you force out, “happy new year's to you too.” The words feel flat, coming out almost awkwardly. She doesn't seem like she knows what to say either. She just gives a nod, looking away again.

Claggor grins. “Powder's a better singer than you, anyway,” he teases. 

Mylo turns his glare onto Claggor, shoving him roughly with a muttered, “Shut up, asswipe.”

Claggor scoffs. “At least she can hit the notes,” he shoots back.

Mylo scoffs back at him. “My singing is perfect. Thank you so much.”

“It's not. You sound like a cat being strangled,” Claggor points out.

Mylo's jaw drops. “I do not sound like that!”

“You do.” All of you chime in unison. 

Mylo groans in protest. “You guys suck. I'm the best damn singer here.”

Powder laughs at his claim. “You're the worst singer I've ever heard.”

The trio continue to bicker, and Vi glances over again, her eyes flitting up and down your body. Her eyes flick from your hair to your mouth to your collarbones. She glances at the exposed skin of your neck, her tongue suddenly running across her bottom lip. Her gaze lingers on your chest... and then she realizes what she's doing. With a loud cough, she looks down into her lap, her eyebrows creased and her neck flushed. “You look good,” she says, just loud enough for you to hear her over the sibling's arguing.

You look down at what you're wearing, surprised by her sudden compliment. “Thanks...?” you respond, meeting her gaze again. “You don't look bad yourself.”

Mylo, Powder, and Claggor are too busy bickering to really notice what's happening between you and Vi. Ekko notices, his eyes going back and forth between you two.

But even though they're too immersed in their argument, Vi still keeps her voice low so the others don't overhear her. She glances away again so not to draw attention to the way she was just staring at you. “Thanks.”

Meanwhile, Mylo is yelling at Claggor. “I'm better at everything, including singing!”

“You're better at being stupid,” Claggor fires back.

Powder pipes up with a grin. “Oh! I have a great idea!” They all turn to look at her, including you. She grins wider before saying, “Vi should sing!”

Vi seems a bit taken off guard, her eyes widening. “N-no, no, it's fine, I-” 

Powder pushes her forward. “Come on, sing a song for us!”

Reluctantly, Vi allows herself to be pushed forward, standing in front of the microphone. She shoots Powder a glare for pushing her. “You're an ass,” she grumbles.

Powder grins at her. “Have fun, sis,” she teases.

She sighs, then turns back to the karaoke. She hums a tune to herself as she scrolls through the song list, her eyes skimming over the options. There's a few seconds more of searching, and then her fingers stop at one particular song. She glances around the room, checking to see everyone's waiting to hear what she'll sing. Her eyes land on you last, and she locks gazes with you for a moment.

Before she has a chance to chicken out, she selects the song and stands in front of the microphone. Vi clears her throat again and takes a deep breath. she seems...nervous.

At the start of the song, you immediately recognize the opening notes. It takes you a second to name the song, but when you do... you almost choke. The lyrics start, and there's no denying it. It's true. She's singing what you think she's singing.

—

4 YEARS BEFORE THE BREAKUP, CONFESSION

You're lying in bed, phone in hand, scrolling lazily through random stuff. It's a quiet evening, and the rain patters against your window. Suddenly, you hear a faint melody drifting through the rain. Music. It must be your neighbor who decided to blast music in the rain. but wait...

Did you just hear your name?

You sit up, suddenly intrigued. You place your phone down, sitting up straight as you listen to the music. Your brows furrow, trying to find where the sound is coming from.

It's definitely coming from outside... and it's getting louder. The faint sound of Aerosmith's ‘I Don't Want to Miss a Thing’ reaches your ears. Curiosity now piqued, you slowly get up from your bed and walk over to the window. Pulling back the curtain, you look out into the rainy night, and there, amidst the rain, you spot her. Violet.

She stands under the glow of the street lights, the light rain showering down around her. She's holding something... no. Not something. A boombox. It's an old, weathered boombox. The kind you'd thought had gone out of style decades ago.

She's singing. Singing... for you.

Her face is tilted upward, the rain kissing her face, mouthing the lyrics, “Every moment I spent with you is a moment I treasure.”

It's cheesy, so, so incredibly cheesy. It's so clichéd and almost straight out of a cheesy romcom. The old boombox, the rain, the song. It's something you'd roll your eyes at in a movie. But it's... sweet, in a way. The way her body rocks slightly to the beat, the way the rain glistens on her skin as she sings those lyrics.

You open your window, the rain and wind blow in, and you raise your voice over the sound of the rain. “What the hell are you doing?” you call out. “It's raining! are you crazy, Vi?”

Vi turns her head towards your voice, a smile stretching across her lips when she sees you standing at the window. “I don't care!” she yells back, holding the boombox higher. “I know it's raining. I'm not blind!”

She takes a few steps closer to your house, her rain-soaked hair sticking to her face. The rain and the light from the street lamps bounce off her skin, making her look like a mess. But she's grinning, that smirk plastered on her face as she holds the boombox over her head.

“You're going to catch a cold!” you retort.

“I've lived through much worse than a rain,” she calls back. “And nothing's gonna stop me tonight.” She then takes a deep breath before belting the lyrics out. The smile never leaves her lips. “Don't want to close my eyes. I don't want to fall asleep 'cause I'd miss you, babe, and I don't want to miss a thing.”

You look around nervously, checking to make sure no one is disturbed by her sudden performance. The last thing you need is your parents waking up and finding out that your friend is singing under the rain for you.

“Are you trying to wake up my parents? or the entire neighborhood for that matter?! keep it down, would you?!” you hiss through tightly clenched teeth, leaning out of the window more. “Get inside!” you whisper shout at her.

She continues to hold the boombox above her head, the rain running down her face and dripping from her chin. “Come on, let me finish at least!”

“You're going to get sick,” you protest, “and my parents will be mad,” you try to reason. Although the idea of your parents waking up to the sight of her standing outside, singing a love song to you, is... funny. 

Vi just laughs at your warning, shaking her head. “Eh, who cares about that? I'm having way too much fun pissing your parents off right now!”

“Stubborn idiot,” you murmur to yourself, sighing. 

You head downstairs to the closet to grab an umbrella. As you grab it, you give a quick glance out your living room window. Vi is still there, holding that boombox, continuing to sing in the rain. Grabbing the umbrella, you step out into the rain. The rain instantly slaps your face, and you quickly pop open the umbrella, holding it over your head.

Vi turns around to face you as you approach. Her singing falters when she sees you. Her smile widens, and she lowers the boombox.

“You really are the stupidest, most stubborn woman I know,” you grumble, holding the umbrella over your head as you reach Vi.

Vi is clearly soaked. She looks like a drowned rat, but despite the mess and her wet state, she's still grinning.

“Do you know how loud you are?” you ask. “You might wake up the whole damn neighborhood, banging that boombox at this hour. It's late, you loud, stubborn idiot.” You pause, studying her appearance. Her face is flushed, the redness on her cheeks betraying her. It could be the rain, the cold, or maybe...

“What?” you ask. “Nothing to say? cat got your tongue?”

Vi pauses, her eyes meeting yours. The rain continues to fall, slapping against the umbrella.

“I like you.”

What?

“No,” you watch as she shakes her head, correcting herself, rain dripping from her hair. “I love you. No, I'm in love with you.”

You stare at her, stunned. The words coming out of her mouth are unexpected. Your mind is in chaos. How could she do this, spring this confession on you all of a sudden? Your eyes are wide, your mind whirling. “What are you talking about?”

Her cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, the redness spreading to the tips of her ears. “I said I love you,” she repeats. “I love you. I've... I've loved you for a long time.” 

She takes a step closer, the rain continuing to fall around you both. The boombox is still clutched tightly in her hand, the music still playing faintly.

You're speechless, struggling to find the words to respond. Your heart is racing and your mind is spinning. After all the years of friendship, all the ups and downs, all the times you've seen her in all her glory... this is when she chooses to confess? now? in the middle of goddamn rain?

Your gaze shifts on her lips. They're slightly parted, raindrops clinging to them. They look soft, even under the rain, even in this awkward and confusing moment.

Vi speaks again, and her words snap you back to reality. “You don't have to say it back…” she says, her voice shaky. “I just needed you to know.”

“And I know I'm a fool,” she continues, her grip on the boombox tightening. “Singing my heart out in the rain like a dumbass... but I couldn't hold it in any longer. You're all I think about.”

Your hands clench around the handle of the umbrella, her confession replaying in your head. I love you. I'm in love with you.

All the times you've admired her, all the times a simple glance got your heart to race... It makes sense now. The feeling you always tried to ignore—the warmth and the flutter in your stomach.

You don't know what to do, what to say, and those damn lips of hers are not helping at all.

Screw it.

Your brain stops thinking, and you act on impulse. The umbrella clatters to the ground, raindrops drenching you both as you step closer to her. You wrap your arms around her neck, pressing your lips against hers.

Her body is tense, clearly taken by surprise, but after that, she melts into your arms. She drops the boombox, letting it fall into a puddle by her feet, and wraps her own arms around your waist. 

She's kissing you eagerly, hungrily, her lips moving against yours in a way that leaves you breathless. Her tongue slides against your lower lip, seeking entrance. You could never deny her anything, and you part your lips, letting her tongue explore your mouth.

Her hands roam over your body. Touching and grabbing at any part of you she can reach. Her tongue is hot against yours. Sliding and tangling together, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Your lips break away from hers, both of you drawing in ragged breaths.

Her forehead pressed against yours. Both of you are shaking from the cold. Her eyes are half-lidded as she looks at you, her lips swollen and red. “That's…” she mumbles, her voice hoarse. “That's one way to respond to a confession.”

Your arms remain around her neck, fingers buried in her wet hair. She's still gripping your waist, holding onto you tightly, her other hand coming up to brush a rain-soaked lock of hair from your face. “You're quiet.” Her thumb traces a path across your bottom lip. “Got something to say, or did I shut you up for good?”

“You always have to be so damn dramatic about everything, don't you?” you mutter, fighting the urge to smile. “Not even a proper date first or anything,” you continue, “just straight to saying I love you, no buildup. Very classy, very romantic.”

Her laughter is a low rumble in her chest when she shakes her head. “Welp, I'm a hopeless romantic,” she jokes, the corner of her mouth lifting in a lopsided grin. “When I see something I want, I go for it.” Her eyes roam over your face. “And I really, really want you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Now can we get inside before we freeze our asses off?” You reach down to pick up the umbrella. “I think we've given the neighborhood enough of a show for one night.”

Your eyes flicker from her soaked clothes to her shivering frame. “If you end up sick, my mom will have my ass for letting you stay out here for so long. You know what she's like when it comes to you…” Your voice softens, concern lacing your words. “C'mon, let's get inside before we catch a cold.”

Her shoulders sag when you mention your mother. She glances down at herself, taking in her wet clothes and shivering body. “Alright, alright,” she mutters. “Last thing I need is another lecture from your mom. She's damn scary.” She bends down to pick up the abandoned boombox, shaking off the rainwater.

You usher her to the front door of your house, your hand resting on her lower back to guide her. Her clothes are damp against your touch.

The door swings open, revealing your mother with her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. “You sure managed to wake up the damn neighborhood with your display out there.” Her eyes flicker between you and Vi.

—

6 DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS, PRESENT

You remember it all.

She used to hum that exact song to you. All the time. Humming in your ear, wrapping her arms around your waist, watching you clean dishes or cook.

Sometimes, she wouldn't even hum it. Sometimes, she would just sing the lyrics to you, while her fingertips would trace random patterns on your skin. Doodles on your back, swirls on your stomach, sometimes little hearts on your arm.

You'd always tease her. “Do you know any songs other than this one?” She'd just chuckle and hum the song harder.

All the while, she would pepper small kisses on your neck and shoulders.

You'd try to push her off, “Stop, I'm trying to clean,” even if you both knew that it was useless to try and stop her.

Sometimes you'd even start singing along in a loud, off-key voice, just to annoy her.

She'd stop humming and glare at you. “Stop that,” she'd say, pouting.

You'd just laugh at her. “Make me,” you'd challenge.

You always used to laugh and tease her about it at first... but slowly, it started to grow on you.

You'd catch yourself humming the song after she stopped visiting, and you hated that your mind instinctively wanted to hear her voice singing it. Sometimes, you'd hum it yourself, but it never compared to how she sang it. She's so much better than you.

The song continues, you just couldn't take your eyes off her. She's just... breathtaking. The way her eyes closed as she got into the song, the way her lips moved with the words, it made you want to reach forward and...

...what are you thinking? you can't do that. you can't do that. So, instead, you just sit there. You just listen. You just watch.

She's looking at you. You can feel it. Her gaze lingers on you longer than everyone else. She's really singing to you, isn't she? why does she have to make this harder?

Your heart is beating so hard, you wouldn't be surprised if everyone could hear it.

When the song finally ends, you're snapped out of your thoughts. Everyone cheers, clapping loudly.

“That's my sister!” Powder exclaims.

Mylo whistles. “Better than I expected.”

Claggor just grins, giving Vi a round of applause.

While everyone else starts chattering, you just sit there in stunned silence. Your palms are starting to sweat, and you feel sick.

Vi sits down on the couch next to you, sitting close but not close enough to actually touch or bump into you.

The others begin taking their turns singing. Ekko sings first. He starts singing a song you don't recognize, but it's something rap and upbeat. Mylo takes the mic next and immediately starts butchering a love song. Powder laughs her ass off, “You're terrible at this!”

Claggor gives Mylo a glare before taking the mic, and he actually sings a pretty decent song. “See?” he says, shooting another glare at Mylo, “that's how you do it.”

Mylo lets out an indignant squawk. “Yeah, whatever, I'm not even trying.”

“Whatever helps you feel better about sucking.” Powder snickers.

It goes on like that, back and forth. One sings, the others make comments, Powder makes fun of Mylo, repeat.

The whole time, you're just stuck there with Vi. So close yet so far away.

—

4 YEARS BEFORE THE BREAKUP

Vi's cheek rests on the countertop, her fingers mindlessly running over the rim of the glass in front of her. It's empty, having never even been touched. Vander leans on the other side of the bar, still cleaning the glass in his hand. The place is nearly empty now, just a few stragglers sitting here and there.

“You gonna drink that?” Vander asks, raising an eyebrow at Vi's untouched drink.

Vi doesn't lift her head from the counter. “Nah,” she says. “Not in the mood tonight.”

Vander looks at her for a moment, still cleaning the glass. He puts the glass down, resting his arms on the counter, leaning forward.

“Something's on ya mind?”

She lifts her head up, rolling it until it's resting on her chin instead. She doesn't look at Vander. Her gaze on the wall on the other far side of the bar. “Can I ask you something?”

Vander pauses, then he simply nods. He knows what that tone means. The same way he knows the look in her eyes. “Sure,” he replies, “go ahead.”

“How do you…” she starts, her fingers slowly tracing the rim of the glass. “How do you know when you've found the right person?”

Vander knows where this is headed. He thinks for a moment, scratching his beard. “The right person,” he repeats. “Well,” he answers, “you can usually feel it here.” He slowly touches his chest over his heart. “Why are you asking?”

Vi suddenly feels like a little girl again, sitting at the bar, watching her father work. It's so familiar, something she never seems to grow out of. “Dunno,” she says, looking back down at the glass.

Vander smirks, knowing her too well to take that excuse as an answer. “Try again.”

Vi sighs. She glances up at her father, who's still watching her. Vander knows her too well, sometimes too well. Her fingers stop tracing the glass rim. She sits up, her hand resting idly on the countertop. “There's this girl…” she mumbles.

Vander's smirk almost becomes a grin at her words. He rests his hands on the counter, leaning forward. “A girl, huh?” he muses. “A special girl?” He already can tell the answer to that, judging by how quiet she's been this evening.

Vi rolls her eyes, but she can't stop the hint of pink that appears on her cheeks. She can feel Vander's smirk, and she doesn't have to look at him to know he knows. “Just a girl, okay?” she doesn't want to admit she's completely whipped. But she is.

Vander chuckles, seeing the hint of pink against her skin. “Right,” he drawls, clearly not believing her claim. He moves to grab a glass from behind the bar, and he starts pouring himself something to drink. “Got a name?” 

Vi groans, hiding her face in her hands. Of course he'll ask that question. “Why does it matter?” she mumbles from behind her palms.

Vander can see the tips of her ears turning red, and he has to fight the urge to laugh. “Come on,” he urges, taking a sip of his drink. “What's the harm in telling a name? at least a first name.”

Vi peeks at her father from between her fingers. She knows he's not going to drop it. So with a sigh, she slowly lowers her hands, looking down at the counter. She mumbles your name, the tips of her fingers starting to fiddle with the glass again.

“So this girl…” he continues, “you been seein' her?”

His question causes her to snap her head up. He looks back at her, his smirk still present on his face. Vi shakes her head, glancing back down at her hands. “No… she's just a friend.”

Vander raises an eyebrow. “Just a friend eh?” he asks. “That's all?”

She lifts her head, giving her father a glare. “Yes, that’s all,” she mutters, shifting uncomfortably on the stool.

Vander just grins, looking smug. He sets the glass down on the counter. “She got a boyfriend... or a girlfriend? This friend of yours?”

His question makes Vi freeze. She never thought to find out, but now that he says it, it makes her stomach twist weirdly. She bites the inside of her cheek, shifting on the stool again. “No, I don't think so.”

“You don't think so?”

“I mean, maybe she does. It's not like I've asked,” she says quickly, not liking where this conversation is headed.

“You like her, don't ya?”

Vi's sure her face is completely pink now, her eyes avoiding Vander's. “I dont-” she stops, sighing. Her shoulders slump. Her fingers twisting together. “...so what if I do.” 

He knew it. “Nothin' wrong with it,” he replies, pouring himself some more drink. He doesn't look at her for a few moments, sipping on his drink. “She knows ya like her?”

Vi sighs again, burying her face in one hand. She shakes her head. “No, she has no idea,” she mutters. “And she better not find out. I'd never hear the end of it.”

“Why not? afraid she'll turn ya down?”

Vi's head shoots up from her hands, a glare planted on her features. “No!” she snaps.

Vander just lifts both hands in mock surrender. “Then why are you so scared?” 

“I'm not scared,” she counters. “I'm just worried she'll start treating me differently.”

Vander hums in thought. “And that's a bad thing?”

Her gaze drops back down to her hands fiddling with each other. He doesn't understand. She doesn't want to lose what she has with you already.

Vander raises an eyebrow, watching her. “Why are you so scared of confessing your feelings to this girl? how bad can it be?”

Vi's fingers pause. Her eyes shut tight. “What if she laughs?”

Vander snorts. “That's what you're worried about?”

Vi groans again, dropping her forehead onto the counter. It's not as simple as he made it sound. “She might do more than that, you don't know.”

“You're scared to tell her how you feel because you think she'll... what? beat you up?”

“That's not funny.” How does she explain this to Vander? how does she explain the way her stomach turns and twists at the thought of telling you how she really feels? how much does it terrify her that things wouldn't be the same?

“You worry too much, kid.”

Vi leans back against the stool. “I know.”

“Just tell her you like her already.”

“That's easy for you to say,” she says, her eyes avoiding his gaze.

“Then why are you so afraid to do it?”

Vi groans. “Because I don't wanna lose her.”

“She won't disappear if you tell her you like her.”

“You don't know that.”

“Yeah, I do,” he counters. “Do you really think she'll stop being your friend?”

She knows he's right, at least partially, but she's still scared.

Vander sighs, his eyes narrowing at her. He knows he just needs to give her the final shove. “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

“For a while..”

Vander hums. “And you still haven't told her,” he states. It's not a question. It's a fact.

Vi starts to fiddle the hem of her shirt. 

“How long are you gonna keep avoiding it?” 

She mumbles something too quiet for him to make out. 

“What's that?” he asks.

Vi grumbles, her shoulders slumping. “I said, 'probably forever, probably.'”

Vander lets out a laugh. “You're impossible.”

“You don't know how hard this is.”

“You're always making things difficult,” he teases, then he suddenly asks, “Do you trust me?” 

Vi lifts an eyebrow. “What kind of question is that? Of course I do.”

He leans in closer to her. “Then just listen to me for a minute.”

Vi hesitates but nods at him to continue. 

Vander leans an elbow on the counter. “Stop being a coward and just do it.”

Vi's brows furrow, ready to argue, but before she can speak, Vander holds up a hand to silence her. “Don't say anything,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing her. “Listen, you're scared you'll lose her. I get it. But trust me, if you really know her, and I know you do, why would she stop being friends with you just because you like her?”

Vi opens her mouth to object, but Vander continues before she can.

“Stop overthinking, stop being so damn stubborn, and just tell her how you feel.” Vander takes advantage of her speechless state to keep going. “Worst-case scenario, she doesn't feel the same. Sucks, but you'll survive. Life goes on.” He pokes her forehead. “Stop being a big sissy.”

“I'm not a big sissy,” Vi grumbles, swatting at his hand.

“Come on, punk,” he teases. “When did you ever let fear stop you from doing something before?”

Vi huffs. She knows he's got a point.

“You've gotten into so much trouble before. You started fights, you stole things. You even stole from me, for gods' sake,” he scoffs. “But you're too afraid to tell a girl you like her?" 

She hates that he's right, and she hates that she's so damn predictable.

“You're being ridiculous,” he scolds. “You've done scarier things than this, and yet you're shitting your pants over telling your friend that you like her.” He always has a way of calling her out. “I'm just trying to knock some sense into your thick skull, pup.”

She shifts on her seat. gaze dropping to the floor. “Don't get me wrong, I want to. Badly. But-” she pauses, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. “What if it doesn't work out? what if we just end up hurting each other? or worse… what if she will just hate me in the end?”

Vander's brows furrow. He has a feeling she will say something like this, and once again, she's right. The what-ifs are always scary. He thinks for a moment, his fingers tapping an absentminded beat on the countertop. As much as he likes to, he can't deny that the outcome of a relationship is uncertain.

“Hey,” he says. “Look at me.”

Vi hesitantly lifts her head, her eyes meeting his.

“It's true. We can't predict the future,” he starts. “But we can't let fear hold us back, either.”

“What if it ends badly?”

“Life is all about taking risks,” he replies. “You can't always play it safe, not when it comes to love.”

“But-”

Vander cuts her off. “It's never easy. When you love someone, you're putting yourself out there. You're letting her into your heart, and that's scary as hell. There's no guarantee of anything. Love isn't easy. It's not simple. Sometimes it hurts, sometimes it's messy, sometimes it's even painful.” He pauses, studying her face closely.

“But you know what else?” he continues. “The good parts make all of that worth it. The smiles, the laughter, the feeling of her hand in yours. The little things, like waking up next to her or sharing a moment with her that no one else would have. That's what makes love worth it. The uncertainty, the fear... those are just parts of the journey.”

Vander holds her gaze. “Don't let that fear stop you from experiencing what could be amazing.”

He lets out a sigh. “You feel it, don't you? the way your heart beats faster when you're around her? that flutter in your chest when she smiles? the heat in your cheeks when she laughs?”

“That feeling, that connection,” he continues. “That's something special, Vi. Something rare and beautiful. You can't just ignore that. You can't pretend it doesn't exist. Look, I'm not going to pretend that I can make this choice for you. That's not my place... but I will tell you this.” He reaches out, placing a hand on her shoulder. “It's always worth the risk, Violet.”

—

6 DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS, PRESENT

Everyone makes their way to Vander's backyard. He's standing at the grill, flipping burgers and hot dogs.

Powder is a few feet away, setting up a few fireworks displays that she made in advance before walking over to Mylo and setting up a few lawn chairs. Silco and Benzo are standing near Vander, talking quietly among themselves, occasionally stealing a beer from the cooler.

You find yourself sitting in a lawn chair with a soda in hand, while Claggor is sitting in the chair beside you, laughing at something that Ekko said. You take a sip, letting the liquid slide down your throat. You sigh, slouching in the chair.

“Seriously, have you ever even talked to a girl before?” Claggor says, raising an eyebrow.

Ekko gasps. “I have too! I've talked to tons of girls.”

“Name one.”

“...”

Claggor grins, poking Ekko. “That's what I thought.”

You can hear Powder and Mylo arguing about something stupid, just like they always do. Mylo seems really angry about it. “You never listen to me!”

“It's not my fault your ideas suck!” Powder argues back.

It's like the two of them never run out of things to bicker about, no matter how petty or ridiculous. They can argue about the weather. Mylo could look outside, see that it's raining, and still somehow get mad at powder and vice versa.

Vi is a few feet away, standing next to Vander. She has a cigarette hanging from her lips.

You've seen her smoke countless times. Sometimes she would blow smoke in Powder's face just to piss her off, or she would take a drag and then kiss you, the lingering, slightly bitter taste of the cigarette on her lips. She would even try to blow the smoke into your mouth. It's such a weird feeling, feeling the smoke pass from her lips to yours.

You take a sip of your soda, taking your eyes off her before you could remember anything else.

Across from you, Sevika glances at you from over the top of her beer bottle. She looks like she wants to say something, but she just takes another swig from the bottle instead.

Soon enough, Vander finishes with the grilling. Everyone scrambles to get their food, with Mylo and Claggor passing out paper plates loaded up with hotdogs and hamburgers.

Everyone gathers around in a circle. Silco is holding a bottle of beer in his hand, raising it up. “I have something to say.”

Everyone quiets down, glancing at Silco. Powder is still stuffing her face with food, but Ekko grabs her arm. “Stop eating and listen.” Powder grumbles something but sets her food down, giving Silco her full attention (as much as she can, at least).

Silco clears his throat, taking a sip from his beer. “New years. The start of a fresh year, a new beginning.”

He glances around at everyone, his eye lingering on Vi for a few seconds, and then his gaze lands on you. You quickly look down, taking a sip from your soda and pretending like you didn't notice.

“This year has been a shitshow, we all know it, but we always manage to keep together. No matter what happens, we're all family here. We look after each other. We take care of each other.”

Claggor and Ekko share a look. You notice Powder giving Mylo a nudge with her elbow. Mylo scowls at her.

He takes another sip of beer. “It's a time to forget about mistakes and move forward, to grow and learn, and for some of us…” his gaze drifts towards Powder and Mylo. “It's a time to stop acting like brats.” He continues, drumming his fingers against the side of his beer bottle, “So as tradition, I want everyone to think of a resolution for the new year. It could be as silly as wanting to eat healthier or something bigger like getting a new job or going on a trip.”

It's another one of Silco's traditions. It's something they all do every year. Everyone is thinking about their resolutions, thinking of something they want to keep for the new year.

Claggor and Ekko are still sharing looks, and you can hear Mylo and Powder whispering about something.

He glances around at everyone, raising an eyebrow. “Alright, any volunteers?”

No one makes a move. Everyone is either stuffing their face, or they're thinking about their New Year's resolutions, or they're just keeping quiet.

Silco sighs. It looks like it's down to him. “Jesus. If no one wants to go first... guess I'll go.” He raises his beer. “My resolution for this year is I want to get healthier. Eat healthier, stop smoking so much.”

Benzo chuckles. “A little too late for that, don't you think?”

“It's never too late,” Silco says, sending a glare at him.

He takes a sip of his beer before looking around. “Alright, anyone next? or am I really the only one going?”

When no one volunteers, Vander steps up. He raises his beer. “I can't say I have anything big, but I want to fix up the bar and give it a bit of a makeover. Something different.”

“New paint job?” Ekko asks.

Vander nods. “Might as well. It's needed it for a while.” He looks around. “Anyone else got anything to share?”

Benzo glances around before he finally decides to chime in. “Well, my resolution...hmm.” His hand rests on Silco's shoulder. “I want to convince Silco to stop smoking so much.”

“I just said-”

“Yeah, but you've been saying the same thing every year. Your ass is still here, smoking your lungs to death.”

“I'm trying,” Silco mutters.

Benzo laughs, patting his shoulder. “Sure you are.” Silco grumbles something under his breath but says nothing. Benzo takes a swig from his beer. “Who's next?”

Claggor is staring down at the beer in his hand, swirling it and watching the liquid move around the bottle. His eyebrows furrow.

Vander glances at him. “You got one, boy?”

Claggor snaps out of his thoughts, looking over to his father. He hesitates but ends up nodding, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I actually have one.” He hesitates for a second before speaking, “My new year's resolution is... well, my goal is to pass my final exams so I can get my certificate for being a certified mechanic, but... it'll take a lot of work.”

Vander beams. “That's a good resolution. Hard but achievable.”

“Yeah, it won't be easy, but I really want to get it done. I just-” Claggor suddenly looks down at his beer again. “I just don't know if I can do it.”

Vander places a hand on his shoulder. “Don't doubt yourself. You've got the potential. We're all rooting for you, kid.”

“Yeah, you'll make a great mechanic,” Ekko chimes in, “and all of us will be in your garage for free car services.”

That gets a laugh out of Claggor, and he gives Ekko a punch on the arm. “Sure thing. I'll give all of you free services once I pass.”

“Now you're speaking my language,” Mylo grins. “Once you're a mechanic, you better make sure you don't overcharge me.”

“I know you can't afford me, Mylo,” Claggor teases. “I'm going to make you pay double.”

There's a collective chorus of ‘oooh's,’ and Mylo rolls his eyes. “Okay, smartass.”

Claggor laughs, taking a sip of his drink. “Who's next?”

Everyone goes quiet again. No one else is saying anything. The only sounds are the clinking of Claggor setting his beer down and Ekko opening a bag of chips.

Powder is sitting quietly, staring at her hands. Her fingers are picking at a loose piece of skin on her thumb.

Silco glances at her. “Powder?”

She looks over, suddenly blinking out of her own thoughts. “Oh—right, my turn.” Powder pauses for a second, staring down at her drink. She clears her throat and raises her soda. “My resolution for the new year is... I want to get into MIT. I know it's a long shot, but I really want to get in.”

Everyone is quiet for a few seconds, processing the words that just came out of her mouth. Then there's a sudden barrage of questions.

“MIT!”

“Really?”

“How?”

“Are you serious?”

Powder almost loses her balance when everyone starts talking over one another. She grumbles, waving her hands around to try and get everyone to be quiet. “Okay, okay! Shut up and I'll explain!”

All of them immediately snap their mouths shut, Powder sighs, and sit up straight. “Thank you. Now if you'll let me continue. Yes, my new year resolution is to get into Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Everyone knows MIT is one of the most competitive schools out there, right? Hell, it's one of the best schools out there. It's... it's really selective. It's a place for brilliant people, but I've been studying a lot, really going hard at it, and I actually think I have a small chance at getting in. I've already looked at their application-”

Mylo interrupts her. “But how are you going to get in? we don't have the money to afford that Pow…”

“I know! I've looked into grants and scholarships, and they do have a few financial programs for students who need help paying. If my applications go through, I can get a partial or even full scholarship. I really want to get in. I know it's a lot of work, but I'm up for the challenge.”

Mylo raises an eyebrow, opening his mouth to speak but Silco cuts him off with a look, ‘Let her finish’ Mylo snaps his mouth shut again, glaring at Silco.

Powder continues. “And honestly, I didn't just wake up one day and decide I wanted to get into MIT. I've been working hard for a while. My grades are great, I have tons of extracurricular activities, a few teachers have agreed to do recommendations for me, and-”

“If you get into MIT, you'll be moving away, right?” Vi cuts in. She pushes herself off the wall, tossing her cigarette into the nearest trash bin, then making her way over to her sister.

Powder's face drops at the question. “If I do end up getting in, I probably won't be around here a lot. MIT is nowhere near here.”

It's an honest answer. There's no sugar coating or beating around the bush to make it seem less harsh. Hearing the words come from Powder's mouth makes it all suddenly seem real. If she does end up getting into that school, she'll be gone. She'll be hours away in a completely different state. 

“I'll probably be busy studying a lot anyway, on top of clubs and stuff. It's a lot of work, honestly, and besides, I can always video call you or something.”

Vi ruffles Powder's hair. “Well, if you are going to be way up there on the east coast...don't forget about me—I mean us,” she looks around. “Yeah?”

Powder sighs and swats at her sister's hand. “I won't forget about any of you. You guys don't have to worry. Once I get into MIT, I won't abandon you all or anything.”

Silco says, “If you think you've got it in you to get into a place like MIT, then go on, kid. Try it.”

Claggor agrees with Silco, nodding. “You can do it, pow-pow. You're smart. You can make it into MIT.”

You give a supportive smile and a nod. “If you really want it, I think you should go for it. If you get in, you'll be going to a place for brilliant people, and you're definitely smart enough to be one of them.”

“Jesus, you're gonna be a long way away,” Mylo says, sighing.

Benzo adds, “Yeah, but it's good for her. Getting into somewhere like MIT is no small feat. Go for it, kid.”

Vander looks over at Powder and smiles. “That is a big place for big things. If you think you can make it, go for it. We're always here for you, Pow-pow.”

Ekko grins. “And if you get in, you'll have to show us around the campus.”

“Thanks… thank you guys. I didn't think I'd be so nervous about saying all that, but…” Powder glances around at them. “Now you guys have to share your resolutions now.”

Everyone's heads collectively turn to Mylo. He groans in response. “My resolution is, uh... to get laid and have a... girlfriend maybe,” he mumbles out, not really putting a lot of effort into his answer.

Claggor snorts. “That's what you said last year too.”

“Hey, things change! It's going to happen this year!” Mylo huffs. “And it's gonna be an actual girlfriend this time!”

“Like you had a fake girlfriend before?” Powder teases.

The group goes quiet, a few awkward glances going around. You notice a few people look at you, then at Vi. You can't count how many people clear their throat at that.

After a few seconds, Claggor speaks, “Well, that's... that's a resolution, I guess?”

Powder clears her throat again. “Yeah... guess so.”

Mylo looks over at Ekko. “What about you? what's your resolution?” he tries to distract everyone from the awkward silence.

Ekko glances around, then shrugs. “Dunno, figure things out, I guess. I think we all have stuff we need to figure out, so that'll probably be my resolution, to just... figure it out.”

“Figured out anything yet?” Powder teases him.

Ekko chuckles. “Not yet, still working on it. It's complicated.”

Mylo snorts. “Yeah, we could tell. You've had the same crush since middle school.”

Ekko opens his mouth, but Silco cuts him off. “Enough about the kid's love life. What about yours, Sevika?”

Sevika, who's been quiet the whole time, leans back in her chair. “I haven't really thought about it too much. I'm not a big resolutions kind of person.”

Benzo laughs. “Always living life on the fly. What about you, Vi?”

Vi looks at you for a few seconds, then looks away. “Work with myself more, I guess.”

“Work on yourself? in what way?” Claggor asks.

Vi shakes her head. “In a lot of ways, I've got a lot going on. Stuff that I should fix or just figure out,” she says, avoiding any eye contact with anyone but mostly avoiding eye contact with you.

Vander and Silco share a look, silently speaking with their subtle eye movements and raised brows. But neither of them say anything.

“What about you? You haven't shared yours yet,” Powder prompts, turning the conversation to you.

You never really thought too much about your own resolution, but now that they're all looking at you, you're starting to wish you did. You can feel Vi's eyes boring a hole into the side of your face, and you can't bring yourself to look at her.

You take a few seconds to think about your words, then you just decide to go with what you can think of on the fly. “I guess mine is just… taking more chances and risks.”

Powder nods. “Taking risks, yeah, that's good.”

Mylo raises an eyebrow. “Risks? what kind of risks? like skydiving or bungee jumping?”

You're starting to regret your response. You just said the first thing that came to mind, and now they're all going to be asking questions. You glance in Vi's direction, and your eyes meet for half a second. She quickly breaks the eye contact, looking away. 

You swallow hard and turn your attention back to the group. “Yeah, just...yeah, like that.”

Mylo scoffs, and it's obvious that he doesn't believe that. But he seems to decide not to pry into your answer too much. “Skydiving is definitely something I'll be interested in trying someday.”

Powder smirks. “You'll have a heart attack before the parachute even opens.”

“What? I'm in great shape. I could do it.”

“The only way you could skydive is if you were pushed out of the plane yourself.”

Mylo scowls and flips her off. “I could do it if I wanted.”

“Yeah. Uh-huh, sure you could.” Powder then checks her phone, checking the time 11:50. “Almost midnight!” she exclaims excitedly, jumping up and running over to the fireworks she was preparing. 

The rest of the group starts getting up, grabbing beers, and setting up for the upcoming countdown. 

Mylo and Ekko begin helping Powder, adjusting different fireworks, and making sure everything is in order. Powder is making some last-minute adjustments, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth in silent concentration. Ekko notices this and laughs. “You look stupid when you do that.”  Powder just sticks her tongue out more in response, flipping Ekko off with a free hand as she continues working.

You look around, suddenly realizing that Vi is not where she was a few moments ago. You hear a noise next to you, suddenly you feel a presence beside you. You expect to see Vander or Silco. You look up to find Vi standing beside you.

She notices you noticed her but doesn't say anything, just kind of hovering beside you awkwardly. Both pretending to look around at everyone else's preparations for the new year's countdown, but neither of you is paying attention.

After silence and silence, the countdown begins, everyone in the group yelling out the numbers.

“10”

Mylo has his arm around Claggor's shoulders, ready to shout along with everyone else. Sevika raises a beer in the air. Benzo is recording the countdown. Silco and Vander are standing next to each other.

“9”

Powder is bouncing on her toes, her hand on the igniter, ready to fire the fireworks into the air. Ekko is standing beside her, a smile on his face as he watches her.

“8”

Mylo's head is thrown back as he yells the countdown. Benzo raises his phone up higher, trying to get a better view of the fireworks for the video. You glance at Vi, and this time your eyes meet, she's already looking at you.

“7”

Her eyes snap away as soon as your eyes meet, acting like she's not been looking at you in the first place. You're left wondering if she even wants to look in the first place. Maybe it's just a coincidence. 

Her cheeks have a faint dusting of pink, but it can easily be blamed on the cold.

“6”

You swallow hard, your heart starts to pick up its pace. Your eyes flick back to her, and this time she's staring off somewhere to the side, refusing to look at you. You start to get a nagging, sinking feeling in your stomach, but you push it aside.

It's not like she's looking at you because she wants to. Right?

“5”

Suddenly, you feel a touch against your knuckles, causing your fingers to twitch at your side. It's a subtle touch, one that you could ignore. But you don't. You don't dare look down at her hand, you don't even move your hand away. 

“4”

Vi's fingers are still touching your knuckles, and neither of you are moving away, neither of you are saying anything, and neither of you are looking at each other.

“3”

Just 6 days ago, she held your hand tight on her own, but now it feels like a simple brush of fingertips over knuckles is almost too much to handle.

“2”

Slowly, almost cautiously, you feel her pinky fingers touch yours. They brush against your skin, trying to intertwine your fingers with her own. It's hesitant and slow, but after a few moments, you take the chance and slowly move your fingers over hers, intertwining them.

“1”

Her fingers twitch when you intertwine your fingers with hers, like she's shocked that you're letting yourself do this. She doesn't pull away though, her fingers just tighten, locking yours together. 

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

The group erupts into cheers and celebration, shouting out the words loudly and fireworks and whistles going off all around. Powder is shouting and smiling and laughing, launching fireworks into the air. Mylo and Ekko lift Powder up, settling to their shoulders, shouting happily. Benzo raises his phone, getting the whole scene on film.

Vander and Silco glance at them, then shake their heads with a smile. Silco murmurs something quietly, too quiet for anyone else to hear. Vander snorted at whatever he said.

Claggor nervously glances at Mylo and Ekko, worried that they're going to drop her sister accidentally. Powder notices him looking and grins cheerfully. “It's fine, it's fine!” she reassures him, then throws her hands up in the air. “WOO! Happy new year!”

Sevika downs the last of her beer, then tosses the can aside. She raises her eyebrows at the scene of Powder being lifted up in the air, a smirk crossing her face.

You turn to look at her once again. The fireworks light up her face in a kaleidoscope of colors.

She looks so... soft like this. Relaxed. Peaceful. You drink it all in. You want to remember this. The way the colors play across her face. The way the fireworks light up in her eyes. The way her eyes look so much more blue under the colored lights. 

It should be illegal for her to look this good.

You've seen her make a hundred different expressions, every one of them just as beautiful as the last. But somehow, the way the light plays across her face is making her look downright ethereal.

You've always loved her hair. The way it frames her face, how you always want to bury your fingers in it.

You want to reach up and brush her cheek, to run your fingers over the little bumps of those freckles. You want to count them all, and you want to make sure you don't miss a single one. Maybe even kiss each one, if you're feeling daring.

You think about her lips. The pouty, pretty, perfect curve of them. How pink they are and how soft they look, how much you want to kiss them or watch them say your name.

You want to kiss the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her jaw. Maybe whisper something in her ear, just to watch her shiver.

The way she talks. The way her voice can be so gravelly but also so smooth at the same time. The way she laughs, her eyes lighting up as her body shakes. The way her voice gets breathless when she's riled up.

You love the way she says your name, how it sounds so different on her tongue than anyone else's.

You want to hear her say it again. You want to hear her say it over and over, so many times that it starts to lose its meaning. You want to hear her say it until you forget how to breathe without her name in your lungs.

You want a thousand more moments like this one. Moments where the rest of the world faded away, moments where you thought there might someday be more to your relationship than broken glass and sharp words.

You want the domesticity of sharing a space with her. The quiet evenings and the stupid, petty arguments. Being able to come home after work and share a bed instead of coming home alone and trying to silence the aching in your chest.

You want the stupid things. Like cooking together, doing laundry, going shopping. You want to walk through the rain together and laugh at the stupid, soggy-haired look on her face. You want to hear her sing in the shower, complain about the weather, and have her crawl into bed with you when it's cold outside.

You want the dumb little arguments about who's turn it is to do the dishes, what movie to watch, and who forgot to fold the laundry. You want stupid, mundane things like the annoying morning alarm she sets that she hates and the dumb coffee mug that she drinks out of every morning.

You want the little things. The way she would leave the bathroom door open when she's brushing her teeth just so she can continue talking to you. The way she'd pull you to her side when you're watching movies. The way she'd steal your food even though you're both sitting at the same table.

More than that, more than the stupid fights and small annoyances, you just want her. You want all of it. Every stupid, messy, frustrating, wonderful thing. All of it. You just want her, every part of her. The soft parts, the hard edges, and the broken bits.

And there it is. There's the realization that makes your chest tighten.

You're still in love with her.

Somehow, that thought shouldn't surprise you. The way you've been acting around her, the way you've watched her without even realizing, the way you've ached to reach out and pull her against you. It should've been obvious.

You think of all the days you've spent apart. The sleepless nights spent waiting for a call or text that never came. The countless times you'd wished you could see her, touch her, kiss her, love her. The times when you'd told yourself over and over again that you were perfectly fine being single, that you didn't need her.

You'd been wrong. You'd been so, so wrong.

Because no matter how much you'd tried to deny it, no matter what you'd told yourself, nothing could change the way you feel. There's no way you could get rid of the way your heart stutters every time you look at her. You can't change the way you still crave her. You don't think you'd ever be able to forget the way her smile makes you feel like you're coming home.

You're still so goddamn hopelessly in love.

You're so focused on her that you don't even notice Vander looking at the two of you.

Vander glances over to Silco, shooting him a look. Silco's eyes flick to the two of you, then he grins, raising one eyebrow at Vander. Vander rolls his eyes, returning the expression.

—

7 DAYS AFTER CHRISTMAS, PRESENT

The celebration has died down now, the clock striking past 1 am. Everyone is finishing up, cleaning up the trash and any unwanted mess.

Vi is in the middle of picking up a few empty cans lying on the ground, throwing them into the overfilled bin. Her head is bowed forward, her hair falls over her face, her body bent at an angle to reach the ground, her skin flushed warm from the cold air. 

There's so many questions floating through your head. You need to talk to her. You need to ask her so many things. Why she ended things, if there was a reason, if she wanted it to end, if you somehow did something wrong. You need to know. You deserve to know.

You watch her for a moment, then take a breath and step forward. “Can we talk?”

She's still bent over, picking things up off of the ground. Her fingers pause in their movement, and she straightens up slowly, her head raising and turning toward you. “Huh?” She blinks a few times before replying, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can.” She sets the can in her hand down into the bin with a rattle, wiping her hands on her jeans when she's done.

“Can we go somewhere more... quiet?”

She glances at the rest of the group, but they're all mostly focused on their own tasks. “Yeah, yeah, come on.”

You walk across the yard, passing Powder and Ekko, who are teasing each other as they pick up trash, making a game out of it. The two of you walk silently, with no destination in mind. Neither of you quite knows where to take this conversation, but you have to have it eventually. You walk in a mostly awkward silence for a few more minutes.

Vi glances in your direction, noticing how your hands are stuffed deep into your pockets. “Are you cold?” she asks. 

You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. “It's fine.”

She hums in response. Her eyes trail down your body, then back up to your face. Her eyes linger on your hands shoved into your pocket. After a moment, she sighs, then stops walking. “Give me your hand.” She doesn't give you much of a choice as she steps closer to you. She holds out her own hand, keeping it there like she expects you to just place your hand in hers.

But you hesitate. Sure, you're holding her finger just minutes ago, but this feels so different now, so much more real. You know if you put your hand in hers, you won't want to let go… and yet you do it anyway.

The second your hand touches hers, she laces her fingers with yours, pulling your hand toward her. She closes her fingers around your knuckles and tugs your hand closer, lifting it and inspecting your skin, her fingers tracing small circles. She doesn't meet your eyes while she examines your hand, but her gaze is focused on it. 

“You are cold,” she mutters, tracing her fingers over your knuckles and the back of your hand. She lifts your hand, turning your wrist to reveal your palm, then touches your fingertips with hers. “Your hands are like blocks of ice. Christ, you really are an idiot sometimes.” 

Her eyes stay down, but you know her well enough to know that she's smiling. Even she can't keep the smile from her face. “So… what do wanna talk about?”

Her eyes flicker up to your face, but she quickly looks away again, turning to watch her own fingers still tracing over yours. “I just wanted to ask why.”

Her fingers still for a moment, lingering in midair just above your hand. “Why what, exactly?”

“Why did you end things so suddenly? like…” you pause, licking your lips as the question sits on your tongue. “You never gave me a clear reason, just... left. No second thought. No explanation. Nothing.”

Vi's fingers go back to tracing soft lines over your skin, her head still bowed, staring at your hand. She doesn't answer at first, then sighs again. “It's not that... it's not like I wasn't happy. You made me happy. So happy. It's…” she pauses, her teeth catching the inside of her lip as her fingers freeze and she lifts her head finally. “I got scared.”

Her words take you slightly by surprise. Scared?

Her head turns toward you, but she won't meet your eyes. She glances to the side. “I got scared. We were fine. You were fine. I got scared. I got scared that you would change your mind, that you would realize that I wasn't good enough for you. I got scared like a damn coward.” She takes a breath before continuing. “I convinced myself you would be better off without me, so I ended it... to protect you, I guess... it sounds stupid out loud, doesn't it?”

“It sounds like bullshit.” 

Her head snaps up to look at you. Her fingers curling around yours just a bit tighter. 

“You can't just... I thought—I thought I did something wrong. I thought it was me.”

She shakes her head, eyes now locked on your face. “That's not it. God, no, it's not you. You were—are—perfect. Too perfect. You're more than enough. I just didn't…” she pauses, her tongue darting out to lick over her lips. “I'm a mess. I'm just a mess. I was so damn scared of ruining you.” Her eyes darts away, staring at the space between you. Her fingers loosen from where they're squeezing your hand, but she keeps her hold. “I'm sorry.”

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The only sound you can hear is her quiet breathing and the distant voices of everyone else.

Bullshit. You think to yourself. Bullshit, bullshit.

Bullshit, because she let you go. bullshit, because she didn't talk to you. But all of that is swept away when you notice her head slowly dip forward, her forehead landing on your shoulder.

Your hands move before your brain even has a chance to think. Your fingers slide into her hair, letting go of her hand so one hand can tangle in the pink strands. It's just a muscle memory, you try to convince yourself.

She turns her face into your neck. You hear her sigh, then she shifts forward, melting into you and closing what space was left between you. Her arms wrap around your waist, her fingers gripping the fabric of your clothes. She's holding on like she's scared you'll slip away, even though she's the one who let you go.

Your other arm down to rest of her hip, keeping her close, keeping her here. She sighs again, her breath ghosting over your skin, your stomach tying itself in knots.

“That night... I hate that night. I hate it so much. I hate that you were crying. I hate that I was the reason. I really never wanted you to feel that way, but I couldn't... I couldn't fix it. I didn't know how to fix it, and I was making everything shitty.” She mutters into your shoulder.

“I would have helped you, if only you'd let me.” Your fingers slide over the back of her neck.

You feel her shake her head against your shoulder, her short hair tickling your neck. “I know. I know you would have. I just... couldn't. I wasn't.... I wasn't in a good place, and I was scared of bringing you down with me.”

“You could have told me.” Your hand moves to trail feather light touches through her hair. “You could have told me you weren't alright. That you weren't in a good place. I would have helped you. I would have been there. You didn't have to push me away.”

“I know. I know.” Her grip tightens around your waist, her hands almost shaking as she holds onto you. “I shouldn't have pushed you away. I was being selfish, and I didn't want you... I didn't want you to deal with my crap. I didn't want you to have to deal with... me.”

“Oh, Violet,” your arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her in closer. “I wouldn't mind having to deal with you. I never minded.”

“Shit, I was so stupid. I was stupid,” she whispers, burying her head into the crook of your neck. “I pushed you away because I was a damn idiot.”

“You're not an idiot,” you murmur, “stupid? Maybe. A damn coward? Yeah, for sure. But an idiot? no, not an idiot.”

“They're the same,” she mumbles.

“No, they aren't. An idiot wouldn't have ended things out of fear, would they? An idiot would keep going until either both of you messed it up or you fell apart. A coward,” you correct yourself, “would end things because they were afraid of ruining something good.” You brush the tips of her hair away from her face, gently tucking the loose strands back.

She's quiet for a long moment, her face still pressed against your neck. “You make me sound smart.” 

“Well, you can be sometimes.” Your hands return to her hair. “...you made the dumbest decision possible, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” She tilts her head enough for you to see the side of her face. “I know, I know I did. It was so damn stupid. So... dumb.” She lifts her head higher, her nose bumping into the underside of your jaw. “I'm so damn sorry.”

“I... I forgive you. I do. I do forgive you. But-” Your fingers tighten their grip on her hip. “—you can't do that again, please. Just... don't push me away like that again. Don't be a damn coward again.”

“I won't, I promise I won't.” Her hand releases your shirt, rising to cup the side of your face, her thumb brushing across your cheek. “Not again, I swear. I was a damn coward, but I... I won't be like that again.”

“You're going to have to prove it.” Your own hand comes up to cover her's. You hold her palm against your cheek. “After pulling something like that, you're going to have to prove to me that you won't be a damn coward again.”

Her fingers curl against your skin, thumb tracing shapes over your cheekbone. “However I need to, I will. I'll prove it to you, I will. I'll do it a thousand times over.”

You tilt your head into her touch. “You'd damn well better. I'm not going through that again.” You pause, taking a breath. “You have a lot to make up for, you know.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “I know I do, and I will. I'll make it up to you, any way I can.” Her fingers move across your cheek, tracing gentle lines along your jaw, until they come to rest against the underside of your chin. “Every day, if that's what it takes.”

“Every day,” you repeat.

A smile tilts the corner of her mouth. “Then I guess I better get started, hm?”

notes: genuine question tho, would u go back to your ex? ...asking for a friend :D

taglist: @just-levyy, @padsfirewhisky, @jinxjinxjinx12, @writtenbyhollywood, @cottoncandyclouds-stuff, @eilishxo, @wlwdottcom, @lia-winther

[hoonatic]

emergency contact | park sunghoon x reader

prompt: weeks after your breakup, sunghoon finds out that he’s still your emergency contact. pairing: non-idol sunghoon x implied female reader genre: angst with hopeful/happy? ending; second chance romance??; exes to lovers??? word count: 2800 note: i’ve had a cute fic idea that i wanted to write forever…but this is not it. the sad demons have visited me once again. hope y’all enjoy nevertheless and any feedback is much appreciated <3

sunghoon was miserable. 

it had been three weeks, five days, two hours, and thirty-two minutes since the two of you had gone no contact.

he wished he could say he was happy to be single, that he was no longer “locked down” and “whipped” as his friends had always called him. but the so-called “freedom” felt like hell since it meant losing you.

at first, he kept telling himself that time would heal the pain. “it’s natural,” he had repeated like a mantra, “she was your best friend and lover for years.” but no, this heartbreak was inhumane. his desire to see you, apologize endlessly, and spend days holding you until you could feel every ounce of his love was gnawing at his soul. if anything, it got worse by the minute.

he had tried so hard to balance work and the rest of his life, using the excuse several times that he was securing this future for your shared life with him. that one day, you’d be able to reap the rewards of his efforts and live comfortably together without stress.

but what was the use of all of that now? the future he had worked so hard to create was ripped out from his hands by no one other than himself. 

you had accused him of being too busy for you. dates canceled at the last minute, a birthday forgotten, and all the texts left on read had built up to the argument that ended it all. he was always good at fighting, a little too good. he had retorted that you weren’t being supportive, and he was never one to sugarcoat his words. his tongue was sharp, and he did nothing to dull its blade.

but there wasn’t too much yelling on your part, and he thought that that hurt more. he wanted you to fight back, to stand your ground because he knew deep down that he was being the asshole. his toxic thought was that by you fighting back, this meant that you were still fighting for your relationship. but instead, you just stared with silent tears and a blank expression. seeing the indifference in eyes that had previously held so much love was a sight that would stay with him forever. so, in fear of you leaving, he ran instead.

he was a coward, leaving your shared home to run back to the apartment he had still technically owned but hadn’t lived in for more than a year. he locked himself away for a few days, but the realization that you hadn’t attempted to contact him burned more than he could put into words. you were done with him. he had hurt you, had the audacity to be the one to run, and now he had lost you.

he had even run from his job. he couldn’t stand to walk into the same building he stayed in when he forgot dates with you. his coworkers wouldn��t stop asking what happened to him, why he looked so rough. he even found an empty container that had once held lunch you made for him. but his final straw was getting promoted. his first instinct was to call you, but he remembered the sad truth before he could dial. any ounce of pride was washed away with shame in that moment. that same day, he quit without notice.

so there he was: miserable, alone, and unemployed with nothing left to run from but memories. he had spent the last week going through his phone and saving your pictures together in a locked album. he wouldn’t dare delete them, but he couldn’t stomach looking at you either.

he wished he could get drunk and sleep away the pain. he had tried, he definitely did - but that night, he dreamt of you. you were smiling at first, eyes ever full of love. you were speaking, yet he couldn’t hear you. but he could see how your words started to gradually look sadder, and slowly, tears started to fall as your grin dropped. he woke up that next morning crying with the conclusion that he would have to face this heartbreak sober.

but another day of scrolling through albums had stopped abruptly when he saw the notification that changed everything.

SOS i called emergency services from this approximate location after my watch detected a hard fall. you are receiving this message because i have you listed as my emergency contact.

sunghoon had to remind himself to breathe.

he had purchased that watch for you as a “just because” present months ago. you had complained of bad sleep and he wanted you to use it as a way to track your slumber. he hated seeing you tired. he knew that the watch had a fall detection function, but it had never been used before.

his heart was in his stomach as he went to his favorite contacts page and selected your name for the first time in weeks.

“please,” he begged, all notion of running away from you leaving his brain, “pick up please.”

but you just weren’t answering. so he tried again and again and again.

for a moment while the line attempted to connect, he wondered if this was how he had made you feel for months - desperate for a sliver of attention from him. but instead, he was desperate for a sign of life.

finally, after about two minutes of trying to reach you, his body moved of its own accord. before he knew it, his car keys were in his hands and he was out the door.

the car ride there might have been the worst part. the speed at which he drove at almost defied the laws of physics. other drivers were cursing at him but he wasn’t registering anything except the thought of your safety. he just needed to get to you.

why did he run? why didn’t he try to talk it out? if he was so afraid of losing you, why did he do the one thing that would guarantee that? he should have been there like he promised to be from the beginning. you would have been safe with him.

when he pulled up to the house you had shared for so long, he suddenly felt the world slow down. why were emergency services there? you should’ve canceled them by now.

he had to double park as the ambulance was blocking the driveway. why were they here?

the emts and police had arrived at the same time as him, which both increased his anxiety and soothed him. for one, that meant he had been quick enough. but why did you need them?

“sir, do you know–” an officer had approached him as he stumbled to the front door. all he could understand was your name. why were they asking if he knew you? of course he knew you. you, the love of his life. you, his soulmate by every meaning of the word. you were you. and you were safe.

as if sensing his distress, he felt an emt worker pull him to the side as the same officer prepared to break down the door. seeing this, sunghoon finally returned to his senses.

“w-wait! sorry, i have a key.” sunghoon’s hands were shaking. the only way that door had unlocked was by pure muscle memory because he didn’t understand what he was doing at all.

as soon as the door opened, sunghoon tried to step in. finally, he was close to you. 

the officer, however, pulled him back.

“sir, you should wait here. we need to make an initial search before you can go in.”

“what, why? if she’s in there, i want to see–”

“sir, it’s just in case we find something we wouldn’t want you to see.”

all of sunghoon’s hesitation and fear went out the window at those words. his body flew automatically as he ran inside.

he screamed your name as he rushed in, ignoring the yells of the police officers who followed him in. as it had been for almost four weeks, his only thought was you. he just needed you.

he checked the ground floor first, eyes scanning the open space in less than a second as his body avoided an officer trying to grab him. sunghoon then moved to the staircase, long legs prepared to skip steps to reach you. then suddenly, he heard the voice his ears had been longing for,

“sunghoon?!”

his head shot up. there you were, finally. he saw the sadness, confusion, and fear all flash your face as you registered the emergency workers behind him. you looked exhausted and unruly, but he had never felt more in love.

he didn’t even remember climbing the steps, but suddenly he was at the top of the staircase and you were in his arms. 

you could feel him trembling as he held you. you took his face into your hands to look at him, “sunghoon? what’s wrong? why are you here? is it my parents? is someone hurt?” you watched as his mouth opened but no words came out. after a few seconds, one of the officers spoke from the bottom of the steps,

“ma’am, we received an alert from your device that a hard fall had occurred.”

suddenly, you understood everything. taking sunghoon’s hand gently, you led him down the stairs, afraid he’d fall from shock. he followed you silently, but his grip tightened seemingly with every step.

that’s when you noticed your shattered watch on the third step.

you let sunghoon go and you could hear his deep breath when you did. you picked up the watch and offered it up to the officer as an explanation, “i’m sorry officer, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding…”

the officer nodded in understanding, and dismissed the emts, “got it, ma’am. we will still need a formal report for our records since this was registered as an emergency call.” he motioned to your couch as he took out a pen and paper.

you reached for sunghoon’s hand once more and led him to sit with you. in the moment, you knew he needed you more than you would ever understand. so, as you explained to the officer, you held his trembling hand, rubbing soothing circles with your thumb.

“i was doing laundry here downstairs and had taken off my watch to prevent it from getting wet,” you recounted, “i put it on top of the basket of clothes that i took upstairs. i remember tripping a little going up the stairs - i didn’t fall, but that must’ve been when the watch fell."

"what about your phone, where is it? i'm sure your boyfriend must've tried to call you."

sunghoon slowly nodded at that, turning to look at you. you smiled sheepishly, "i left it upstairs and it was on silent while i folded the clothes. i’m so sorry for the inconvenience.”

after finishing up your statement, the remaining officer prepared to leave. as he walked out the door, he gave a soft smile to the both of you,

“glad to see it was a false alarm, ma’am. you had this gentleman quite worried - ran so fast i couldn’t even grab him!” the officer laughed, “you two have a nice day now! sorry about your watch, though!”

after he shut your door, the silence enveloped your home. you closed your eyes and breathed deeply to prepare to speak to your ex-boyfriend. but as soon as you opened them, sunghoon started to cry softly.

he hugged you tighter than he ever had, and soon enough, his face was buried in your neck. his cries were silent, but you could feel his body shaking as his tears soaked your shirt.

“sunghoon…” you started, stroking his back, “i’m sorry i worried you, honey.”

you knew you shouldn’t be calling your ex pet names, especially an ex that had run from you without properly ending the relationship. but your heart still held so much love for him that it flowed out naturally. and you knew he was crying from more than just worry, so you doubt he minded at all in the moment.

his crying slowed down as his arms took to loosely wrapping around your waist instead. he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead on yours. from this angle, you could see his swollen eyes and red nose - a sight so rare in all the years you had dated. he was never a crier after all.

but memories of several late-night conversations rushed your mind. he always said his number one fear was your death, and now you could see he had never lied about that.

he could see your mind go elsewhere so he called your name softly, “don’t say you’re sorry. i’m so happy, these are relieved tears. and i just really, really missed you.” he croaked out. you knew he had more to say, so you just nodded, letting him go on.

“and i’m sorry, baby. for everything. i shouldn’t have run, i shouldn’t have tried to egg you on to fight me back. i shouldn’t have even fought anything you said that night. you were right. i didn’t prioritize you. in my attempt to secure you for life, i let you go instead. i’m so sorry, i never wanted to break up.” he was rambling in earnest now, afraid that no words would make you take him back.

you listened quietly as he went on for a few minutes after that, hand continuing to rub his back, “i know honey, i know.”

“baby, you need to understand that i almost died thinking you almost died today,” you could’ve laughed at how dramatically he spoke, “i couldn’t breathe right thinking that our last conversation could’ve been an argument. that you wouldn't have ever known just how deeply i love you and need you. i have so much regret for how i treated you, but if you’d give me the chance, i have all the time in the world to make it up to you…let’s go on that vacation i promised you. we can leave tomorrow if you’d like.” he smiled hopefully at you.

“hoon,” his heart soared at the use of his beloved nickname, “what do you mean? don’t you have work? can you really leave with such short notice?”

“i quit my job.”

“excuse me?”

“no job that made me work that much is worth it. i’ll find one with better work-life balance…after our vacation. if that’s what you still want of course…” he spoke more quietly, as if afraid of rejection.

you sighed. you really should be realistic with this - you two had been broken up for a few weeks at that point. you knew the love was still there, but was this a good decision?

while there was still some hesitation on your part, you couldn't help but notice how gingerly he held you. his arms were still around your waist loosely, yet there was something desperate about their hold. you knew he was holding back from hurting you - you could tell how tightly he wanted to hug you.

he was so shaken up at the idea of you being hurt that he rushed over there despite the two of you not being on speaking terms. for someone who had trouble communicating how he felt sometimes, you knew his actions spoke louder than words. he always acted brave, but there was so much he feared. and you knew losing you was always at the top of this list.

you could also feel how he was simply soaking in the sight of your face. his eyes were shy, yet determined. he wasn't going to risk missing another second of staring at you. a part of you grew conscious, but you knew he was just taking in what he had missed for weeks.

“what about…” you started and almost giggled at how he perked up, “we take it slow - another two weeks or so to talk everything out and relax? to get us to a good place again before you hold me hostage in some foreign country?”

sunghoon smiled softly, kissing your forehead. you leaned in naturally to his warmth, to his touch that you missed so much. “that sounds like a great idea, love.” he spoke, “we’ll get you a new watch too. and i’ll do all the itinerary planning and packing whenever you’re ready, okay? i love you.”

“okay. and i love you too. can’t wait to enjoy your unemployment with you for now!”

one smile and nod from you had him taking you into his arms once more, relishing in your being. he was back where he belonged. he had experienced the scariest reminder ever that he needed you, and sunghoon was never letting you go now.

[gravegoer]

Hello, how about a part 2 of being Sevika's boss maybe when they got together or something like that thankyouuu and i love all of your ficss thank you making them hehe

Sevika's Boss ꩜ part 2

hi anon, sevikas boss fanfic got a lot of love a while ago so im happy to write part 2 !! let me know if you enjoyed i threw in some misunderstandings for fun here..maybe kind of angst?? its okay tho you make up very quickly PART 1 , masterlist

You and Sevika hung around eachother a lot, I mean that was normal right? She is your second in command afterall.

Personally, you didn't see a problem with it, and nor did Sevika.

She had grown accustomed to your presence and didn't mind all your small, loving touches and annoying jokes.

And yes, sometimes she went a little overboard for you, like what kind of subordinate stays at their bosses house to tend to them whilst they are injured? Or goes out for drinks every weekend? But maybe your relationship was starting to exceed the bounds of boss and employee.

She has definitely warmed up to you more than she did with Silco. She thinks it was your charming personality, or cute outfits, your smile...

Some people might say you sitting in Sevikas lap while you fixed up her arm might be indecency in the workplace, but you found it to be a simple and innocent task.

But this begs the question, what exactly is your relationship?

This is also a question Jinx was starting to ask herself.

"So uh...whats with you and Sevika?" Jinx asked in an almost singsongy voice.

She flipped her gun around in her hand haphazardly while she was sprawled out on your (Silcos) desk.

"What do you mean whats with us..?" You shook your head, mimicking her movements with your pen.

"I meaaan, you guys act like a married couple or something!" She threw her two hands in the air with a 'duh' kind of look plastered on her face.

You pushed one of her braids to the side to pull out a paper from under it. One of Sevikas reports from a recent trip. Her handwriting was an imperfect cursive. Sighing, you put your face in your hand while you held the paper, staring at it diligently.

Jinx looked at you quizically at your lack of an answer. She sharply pushes the paper down with the tip of her gun, "Hey, are you— Oh," She let out a nasally laugh at the paper, "Damn, you got it bad, huh, toots?"

"What? I have what bad?" You slid the paper away and tilted your head at her.

The blue-haired girl sat up and rested a spindly arm on her knee, "You're so in L word with her." She snickered at you.

"Im in—" Your face flushed at your realization. "I am not in 'L word' with her." You raised your hands to do finger quotes around 'L word.'

"Hmmmm, are you sure?" She teased, putting her gun to her chin and looking up in mock thought "I mean, you practically cling to her, you always walk home with her, and plus you talk about her all the time– hell! You talk to her all the time."

You stared at Jinx, now zoning out in thought. What were you supposed to tell Sevika? Does Sevika even think the same way about you? Would that relationship even be appropriate?

"You know what?" You stood up and pointed in Jinx' face, "Im going to do it—"

She attempted to cut you off with a meek,

"Sevikas—"

"Im going to tell her I love her," You continued, Jinx' half attempt to save your ass fell on deaf ears.

You looked up, finger still in the girls face to make eye contact with a very familiar set of grey eyes. Fuck.

Sevikas gaze faltered, and she cleared her throat, bringing a fist to her mouth, "Um. I came to ask you if you wanted to grab a drink, but it seems like you have better plans."

Holy shit. She didn't know it was about her. Is that good or bad? You only felt a few seconds of relief before Sevika just turned around and walked out. That was bad.

Jinx whistled, still under the pressure of your pointing finger, "You have some explaining to do."

You fumbled over your words before pushing Jinx' forehead back with your finger. "Ughh.. This is your fault."

You drooped back down into the large chair, putting your head in your hand and heaving a sigh.

"Just go tell her while you still have a chance. She's probably going to be moping around the Last Drop," Jinx got up from her spot on the desk, and some papers fell with her.

"That's my queue to leave, though," She hopped out of the office with a little too much energy, probably on her way to cause more mischief.

You sighed and packed up your stuff, picking up stray papers and shoving them into a random drawer on your desk.

Grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, you pushed open the double doors to your office. It was time to go to the last drop.

poor sevika

Your entrance was signified with the ding of a bell atop the door. Music was playing loudly, and people were swarmed around the bar. Your eyes scanned the nearest areas for Sevika, but as you figures she was nowhere in sight.

She was most definitely in her usual gambling spot. You didn't want to approach her while she was in the middle of a game, so you waited at a nearby table, making sure to stay out of her sight.

You could hear the groans of the men at her table, most definitely losing. Chuckling at this, you watched as a waiter came up to your table asking for your order.

You just asked for a simple whiskey sour, hanging your bag on the back of your chair.

Several minutes (and a few drinks later), you felt someone's eyes on the back of your head. Turning around, you, once again, were met with steely grey eyes. Sevika stood near behind you with her arms crossed. The game had finished.

"You get rejected or something." She deadpanned.

"No—well.. not yet." You turned around in your chair to face her, the metal back of the chair was now settled between your legs.

You held what you thought was your sixth whiskey sour in between your fingers, chin resting on the top of the chair back.

She scoffed at this, turning her head to avoid eye contact. You could have sworn a small blush coated her cheeks. But her frown made you think otherwise, her large forearms tensed before she spoke.

"Oh, so you're waiting for her here."

How cruel of you to profess your love to someone in the place you knew Sevika would be. You probably wanted her to see it, right?

"Yeah, shes already here." You said, still staring at her side profile, tracing the scar on her cheek with your eyes.

The neon lights illuminated her face and brought out every curve and angle. But your thoughts were interrupted by her stern and almost angry voice.

"I should leave then," she started to walk away, but you reached out quickly.

(I dont know why you would do that when she wasn't even in arms length to begin with.) You started to fall forward, you let out a small yelp and held onto the chair, your drink falling onto the ground. You awaited impact, but it never came.

Instead, you were met with strong arms holding the back of your chair up. Sevika was bent over slightly, both mechanical arm and human arm on the metal of the chair. And for the third time, you made eye contact with now very close grey eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed in shock or frustration- you couldn't tell.

Without another thought, you grabbed her by the collar and pulled her lips into yours. At first, she tried to pull away but eventually melted into the heat of the kiss. She sat your chair back up on four legs, and her elbows lean on the top of the chair, encircling you.

Almost as soon and she relented she pulled away, "What the hell are you doing," She rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of a large hand.

Her lips were still puffy from the kiss, but almost more downturned than before. When you didn't respond she offered a question, "Are you drunk?"

Your lopsided grin told her all she needed to know. She knew she needed to take you home, but she was going to do so reluctantly. Afterall you were going to become someone else's girl, couldn't have her hands all over you like she usually did.

She grabbed you (almost roughly) by the arms and pulled you out of the chair, "How are you going to profess your love now?" She scoffed.

"I just did, was that not enough?" Your words were slurred and you helped her by stepping up with heavy legs.

She furrowed her brows until she came to a not-so-shocking realization. Cursing under her breath she smirked at you. You could almost see the relief wash over her face.

Her thick arm held you by your upper torso as she almost carried you to the doors. She sighed at your stupidness, why not just tell her right away, then you wouldn't have to have gone through all the trouble.

She eyed your glossed over eyes, shaking her head at the dumb smirk that held its place on your face. She could feel the quiver of your body against the cold night wind.

At that she lifted you into her arms, covering you with her cloak. You looked up at her with wide eyes, burying your face in the material. God she wanted to kiss you so bad. But she'd save that for the awkward talk in the morning.

thank you for reading ! yes i see your asks all your fics are on the way I swear !!!! much love