#ask anything i love talking about this shit

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Four

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren't quirks, they're survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, ableism, strong language.

Notes — They're ridiculous. The entire grid thinks the same. I love them your honour.

Want to be added to the taglist? Let me know! - Peach x

2019

The door to the motorhome clicked shut behind him, and Lando barely had time to grab a bottle of water from his mini fridge before he heard his name.

“Lando.” His dad’s voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that meant he was either about to get bad news, or he was in a shit ton of trouble. 

Lando turned, water bottle halfway to his lips. “Yeah?”

Adam was sitting at the small table in the lounge, one arm draped over the back of the seat. He wasn’t smiling. In fact, he looked more like the man Lando had watched negotiate million-pound deals than the easygoing dad who sent him memes and wore mismatched socks with his dress shoes.

“I spoke to Zak today,” Adam said. “About the two of you.”

Lando blinked, lowered the bottle. “The two of who?”

Adam gave him a look. “Don’t play dumb, kid. People are talking. Zak is… God, I thought he was going to collapse. He’s pissed off, Lando. Thought he could trust you with her.”

Lando felt his entire body go stiff. “We’re just friends.” He forced out. 

“Are you?” His dad asked, and then sighed. “We both know how this world works, Lando. I’ve watched you work yourself to the bone for this since you were eight years old. Everything you’ve done, everything we’ve sacrificed — it’s all led you here. And right now, you’re risking all of it meaning nothing.” 

Lando shook his head. “No. It’s not like that.”

“Maybe not yet. But it will be. The media will twist it. Her father is your boss. It isn’t just your reputation on the line — if this goes sideways, it could cost you your seat.”

Lando’s jaw clenched. “Zak isn’t like that.”

“No,” Adam agreed, wearily. “But other people are. Sponsors. Management. People who don’t know you. You think they’ll believe this isn’t going to cause favouritism? That you won’t start getting special treatment?”

Lando felt like he was being burned alive. “I would never—.”

“But that’s what it’ll look like.” Adam’s voice stayed even. “It doesn’t matter if it’s true.”

Lando looked away, glared at the wall. His hands clenched into tight fists. 

“She’s not just… some girl,” Lando muttered. “She’s smart. And she’s… funny, in her own way. She always knows what she’s talking about. Knows how to make me feel better when I’m in a shit mood.”

Adam just looked at him, steady and quiet. “You like her,” he said. He sounded defeated.

Lando didn’t say anything. Because yeah. Maybe he did. Maybe he liked her a lot. Enough that it scared him a little. Enough that his stomach flipped weirdly every time he saw that rare smile of hers. Enough that he didn’t even know when it had started — just that it had snuck up on him and now it was everywhere.

Adam sighed, reaching a hand up to rub between his eyes. “I’m not saying you have to stop being her friend, mate. I’m just saying that you need to think long and hard about what you want; don’t think like a nineteen year old boy. Think like a world champion.”

Lando’s fingers tightened around the water bottle. The plastic crinkled.

“She’s Zak’s daughter,” Adam stared at him, like he was trying to drill the crux of the issue into him. “You really think that doesn’t come with consequences?”

“I didn’t… mean for it to be like this,” Lando said quietly. 

“Sometimes it just sneaks up on you,” he said. “Doesn’t mean it’s always a good thing.” He stood up, gave Lando’s shoulder a light squeeze — the way dads do when they mean I’m not angry, I’m just worried — and then walked out.

The door clicked shut behind him.

Lando stayed frozen in place, staring at the floor, pulse still loud in his ears. He wasn’t even sure what he was feeling; just that it was too much, all at once.

He looked at the bottle in his hand. Still full.

Not thirsty anymore.

— 

“She said it wasn’t a date,” Tracy said, leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug of tea. “They just got burgers.”

“After qualifying,” Zak pointed out. “He drove her to get burgers. Alone.”

Amelia sat at the kitchen table, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, utterly baffled. “I don’t understand how eating burgers together means that we’re dating. We didn’t even share our fries.”

Tracy snorted softly into her tea. Zak did not laugh.

“This isn’t about fries,” he muttered, pacing. “This is about perception. Do you know how many people saw the two of you together? In public? My phone blew up. There are photos all over instagram. And don’t get me started on how often you’re photographed together in the paddock. I— I was blind. Totally blind.” Great. He’d reached the spiralling stage. 

“Well, I texted you where I was!” Amelia said, affronted. “That’s the rule, and I followed it!”

“Yes,” Zak stressed, eyes wide. “An hour after you left the paddock, Amelia! I would’ve stopped you, had I known that he was going to… to steal you like that.”

Tracy giggled. Zak, notably, did not.

Amelia just stared at him, her expression caught somewhere between confused and concerned.

She had never, in all of her nineteen years of life, seen her father act so out of sorts out over something so insignificant. 

“Okay, look,” he took a deep breath, rubbing at his forehead like it pained him. “Amelia. Honey. You’re my daughter. And Lando? He’s my driver. If people think that something is going on between you two, it could become a very, very big problem for me. And for Lando. Do you understand that?”

Amelia blinked. She wasn’t stupid. She’d read plenty of romance books on her Kindle since getting it for her fifteenth birthday — and if she and Lando were in a book, she was pretty sure their trope would be “forbidden romance,” maybe even “opposites attract,” though she wasn’t entirely convinced she was Lando’s opposite. More like… Lando adjacent.

It was fun to think about.

But if her dad really believed this could negatively affect Lando’s career… maybe he had a point.

“Okay,” she said seriously. “So how do I stop wanting to kiss him?”

Zak made a sound. Like a dying animal.

Tracy full-on howled into her tea.

“I—oh my god,” Zak muttered, dropping his head into his hands. “No. Nope. I can’t do this.”

Amelia frowned at him, and then looked at her mom. “That wasn’t rhetorical. I would appreciate an answer.”

Zak didn’t respond.

Tracy, tears in her eyes from laughter, leaned over and gave Amelia a tight shoulder squeeze. “You don’t,” she said sweetly. “You just get very good at pretending that you don’t want to.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Zak grumbled into the table. “Great parenting. A masterclass.”

Amelia nodded, serious. “Okay. I can pretend.”

A beat passed.

Then, with total sincerity, she added, “But if he kisses me first, it’s not technically my fault, right?”

Tracy almost spit her tea. 

Zak’s forehead hit the table with a thump. 

— 

Amelia wasn’t eavesdropping. Not on purpose.

She was just looking for her water bottle. She remembered leaving it near the PR area while charging her phone. The door was mostly shut, but not all the way, and when she reached for the handle, hearing her name made her pause.

“Amelia is becoming a bigger problem than I think anyone wants to admit.”

It was Lisa, one of the senior PR officers. She recognised her voice; had sat and eaten lunch with her a few times at the MTC. They only travelled to races with a small PR team, and Lisa was one of them. 

Amelia squinted at the gap in the door. She should leave, but it felt like her feet had been glued to the floor. 

“She’s sweet,” someone else said. A man she didn’t recognise. “I mean, she’s obviously harmless. It’s not like she’s pulling a Piquet.”

“No, she’s not doing anything wrong,” Lisa agreed, “but she's constantly in the garage, on camera, lingering around Lando like a girlfriend would, or an engineer, but she’s not officially anything. She's Zak’s daughter, yes, but that shouldn’t give her free rein. Should it?”

There was a pause. Someone clicked a pen.

“I know we’re not supposed to say it out loud,” Lisa continued, “but she’s… neurodivergent. There’s only so much control we have over how she’s perceived. She’s different, and I think people can tell.”

Suddenly, it felt a little harder to breathe. 

“She, ah, fixates. And she paces. She’s terrible on camera, can’t speak to reporters at all. I saw a thread yesterday, talking about hor she has weird vibes, speculating if Lando’s only spending time with her because she’s Zak’s kid and he’s trying to be a teachers pet.”

“That’s awful,” someone said, though they didn’t sound shocked.

“I know. But if this turns into a tabloid story, it’s not going to be cute anymore. It’s going to look irresponsible. And nepotistic.” 

There was a shuffle of paper. A sigh.

“Either we bring her into the fold properly, media train her, give her a title, have Zak back their friendship publicly, or we need to start distancing her. She can’t just float.”

Amelia stepped back, her breath caught somewhere sharp in her ribs. She didn’t realise she was shaking until she saw her own hands.

They hadn’t said anything untrue.

Not really.

But they’d said it like she was a problem to manage instead of a human being with feelings.

She backed away quietly.

She no longer wanted her water bottle.

In fact, she didn’t want to be here at all.

— 

She found Lewis leaning against a wall near the back of the Mercedes hospitality unit, Roscoe sprawled on a cooling mat like a little lion in the sun.

He looked up and smiled when he saw her. “Hey, trouble. Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

Amelia tried to smile back. It didn’t really work.

Lewis’s face changed. “What’s wrong?”

She sat down heavily next to Roscoe, crossing her legs, arms tight around her ribs. The dog lifted his head, gave her a sniff, then licked her knee. She didn’t react.

Lewis crouched. “Amelia?”

“I’m just,” She sucked in a deep breath. “I think I’m making a mess of everything.” She stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to. I just thought—I thought that I was just being helpful and quiet and normal enough. But I’m not doing any of it right. I talk too much, or I hover, or I forget to look people in the eye, and apparently people think I’m weird.” 

Lewis’s face darkened. She wasn’t looking at him, though, she was staring at her shoes now. At the last race, Lando had used an orange marker pen and written his number ‘4’ on the side of them. 

“They were talking about me,” she continued, voice flatter now. “The McLaren public relations people. They said I might ruin things for him. For Lando. Because I’m too much and not enough at the same time.”

“They said that to you?” Lewis asked, his voice sharp.

She looked at him. He sounded angry. Her stomach twisted tighter.

“No one said it to me. But I heard them. I wasn’t meant to. I don’t think they knew I was there.” Her hands tugged harder at the cuffs of her sleeves, wrapping the fabric around her fingers until they turned pale. “And they’re right, really. It’s not personal. It’s strategic. I’m a… a flaw in the system.”

Lewis exhaled slowly, deliberately, like he was keeping something inside. “Amelia, you don’t get to say that about yourself, alright? That’s a rule now.”

She blinked at him. “Why not?”

“Because it’s not true,” he said, quieter. “I’ve raced with actual liabilities. People who don’t care. Who don’t try. You? You’re none of those things. You’re thoughtful, you work hard, and you pay attention in a way most people don’t. That already puts you ahead of half the paddock.”

She didn’t say anything. She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes, like she could physically push the confusing feelings away, then leaned a little closer to Roscoe. The dog didn’t move, just let her run her fingers through the warm fur along his side like it was the only thing keeping her from floating away.

Lewis stayed close but gave her space. After a moment, he glanced down at his phone and the telltale *swoop* sound informed her that he'd sent somebody a message.

A few minutes later, footsteps approached from behind. Light. Quick. Familiar.

She didn’t even need to turn around.

“Hey,” Lando said, voice low and careful.

She closed her eyes for a moment. Just a moment.

“I’m okay,” she said automatically. 

Lewis stood, brushing off his hands. “Take her for some air, yeah?” He suggested to Lando. “She needs a break. And someone who won’t let her be mean to herself.”

“I got her,” Lando said quietly, eyes on her the whole time.

Lewis gave him a look — subtle, but full of something unspoken. Then he reached down to ruffle Amelia’s hair, a brief and awkward brotherly gesture.

She winced.

Her shoulders curled up, recoiling slightly before she could stop herself. It wasn’t Lewis’ fault — she liked him, respected him, even — but he wasn’t Fernando. He didn’t know how to touch her gently. How not to startle her.

Lewis paused and immediately pulled his hand back. “Sorry,” he murmured. “Force of habit.”

She nodded once. She appreciated the apology more than the touch.

Lando sat down beside her, close but not touching.

“Tell me who I need to fight,” he said.

She huffed a breath. Almost a laugh. Almost.

He didn’t rush her. Just waited.

After a long moment, she looked at him. Her voice barely a whisper. “I think I might mess everything up for you.”

He shook his head immediately. “Nah. I’ll be the one who ends up doing that.” 

She looked at him then, really looked at him. He looked serious, but she could never be sure. 

He smiled at her, then. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s take a walk around, yeah? The sun’ll start setting soon.”

Without waiting for her to respond, he started walking, and after a second of hesitation, Amelia stood up and followed. She walked beside him, glancing at him occasionally. He led her around the paddock, moving past engineers and mechanics who were too busy to pay attention to either of them. 

“My dad talked to me. About, uh, this. Us.” He glanced at her. She frowned at him. “Because we went for burgers.” He explained. 

Amelia sighed. “Everyone is so obsessed with that. I don’t understand.” 

Lando smirked. “Because you went with me, Amelia.” 

She made a face at him that she hoped portrayed her frustration. “That doesn’t explain anything.” 

“I like you,” he said slowly, his voice steady. Honest. She blinked at him. “I think a lot of people worked that out before I did — and definitely before you did.” He said. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. Was he making fun of her? It didn’t feel like it. It… it felt a lot like he was teasing with her. Flirting with her, like the men in her books.

Her heart did that thing again. The one that felt like it skipped a beat, but not in the way she wanted it to. He was, wasn’t he? He was flirting with her. Because he liked her.

Before Amelia could say anything, Lando stopped suddenly, and she almost bumped into him. Looking up, she saw a camera swing toward them, one of the Sky cameras following the action around the paddock, with Ted Kravitz just a few meters away.

Her stomach dropped. A rush of panic hit her chest.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath, instinctively trying to step out of the camera’s line of sight.

Lando’s hand landed gently on her back, guiding her in the opposite direction, but it was too late. The camera was already focused on them. Amelia could feel her face flush as heat spread up her neck. This was exactly what she didn’t want — being seen alone with Lando was only going to make everything worse.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry,” Lando said, his voice low and steady, reassuring her without a hint of panic.

But just as the camera zoomed in closer, Amelia heard a familiar voice.

“What do we have here?” It was Max Verstappen.

She blinked. Carlos Sainz appeared beside him, and Daniel Ricciardo wasn’t far behind. The three of them swarmed around her and Lando like it was something they did every day. Max slung an arm around Lando’s shoulders, and Carlos and Daniel positioned themselves between Amelia and the camera, effectively blocking the view. 

“We were just on our way to get ice cream,” Daniel said with a mischievous grin, his accent thick and playful. “Warm evening, isn’t it?”

Amelia blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in energy. Max gave her a wink, his smile wide and completely unbothered by the camera’s presence. Carlos just chuckled. 

Lando shook his head, clearly amused, but his eyes didn’t leave her. There was something there, something that made her stomach flutter, and for a second, she forgot about the camera entirely.

“You guys are ridiculous,” Lando said with a smile, his tone light but grateful. It was clear he wasn’t at all mad at the distraction. In fact, he seemed oddly relieved by it.

“Only when it’s necessary,” Max quipped, and with that, the trio slowly started backing away, blocking the camera’s view like pros.

As they made their way toward the back of the paddock, Lando’s hand remained at the small of Amelia’s back, a silent reassurance that she was, for now, out of the spotlight.

“You okay?” he asked quietly, his voice just for her.

Amelia nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just thinking about how many points you guys have combined.”

“In Formula One?” Daniel asked, raising an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of confusion and amusement.

She shook her head. “No, I mean, like, total points. From when you all started karting.” Her voice was mumbled, her thoughts swirling with a million numbers. “Give me a minute, and I’ll be able to tell you.”

Max raised an eyebrow at Lando. “Mate…”

Lando laughed, his eyes full of pride. “I know. Trust me, I know.”

— 

iMessage — 5:09pm

Dad You okay honey?

Amelia Yes. I do not like Lisa anymore.

Dad Lisa who?

Amelia She works in public relations.

Dad What did she do? Did she say something to you?

Amelia I eavesdropped.

Dad: Amelia

Amelia She said that people say that I have weird vibes. Do I?

Dad No, you don’t. Your vibes are just fine. I’ll have a chat with Lisa about where her focus should and shouldn’t be. Are you okay, though? Did you feel upset?

Amelia It’s fine. Lando made me feel better :)

Dad: Amelia Brown. Where are you right now?

Amelia I am in Lando’s rental car.

Dad I can’t believe this. Tell him that I am going to murder him.

Amelia No. He hasn’t kissed me yet. He probably won’t do it tonight because we are with his friends.

Dad … Which friends?

Amelia Max Verstappen. Carlos Sainz. Daniel Ricciardo. 

Dad I see. Have fun, sweetheart. 

— 

iMessage — 5:18pm

Zak Brown You told me you had a chat with him.

Adam Norris I did. What’s he done now?

Zak Brown Check Sky Sports. Your son’s created an Amelia army. A very expensive one. Looks like Max Verstappen’s leading it.

Adam Norris Just saw it. Never seen him like this with any girl before.

Zak Brown Look, he’s a great kid, but I’m trying to figure out how to handle this. It’s turning into a media circus.

Adam Norris I can talk to him again.

Zak Brown Maybe we just tell them they can’t see each other. Lay down the law. I’ll tell Amelia to stay out of the paddock for a bit, create some distance.

Adam Norris That’ll only make it worse, Zak. Lando’s young. He’s a bit of a party animal. Amelia seems like a good kid, but she’s not his usual type. Maybe this will blow over.

Zak Brown Let’s hope so.

— 

Carlos paced slowly down the pit-lane, the cool morning air brushing against his skin. The soft hum of the paddock was building as teams made their final preparations. He adjusted his cap, squinting against the light creeping over the horizon, the sun just peeking out from behind the clouds, casting long shadows on the tarmac.

His gaze flicked to the pit-wall, where strategists were already setting up, even at this hour. His own crew were deep in race plan discussions, while other teams were doing the same. The calm before the storm. The last moments of peace before the full intensity of the race weekend took over.

Silverstone always had a unique energy. The fans here were different—almost like they had a special connection to the track. It was Lando’s home race, and McLaren’s too.

Carlos glanced over at Lando’s garage without thinking. He was already there, leaning against the back wall in a pair of matching grey sweats, smiling widely. Carlos followed his gaze. Ah. Of course. Amelia Brown, perched on the counter in front of the telemetry screens, animatedly talking, her hands moving as much as her words.

Carlos found himself wondering if the way her feet kept bouncing against the cabinet was a... stim, the English term. He had done his research when he learned about Amelia’s autism. It had helped to understand why she was so blunt when giving advice and never made eye contact. It also explained why his father's words had clearly hurt her more deeply than he would ever be able to understand.

The sound of Amelia’s laugh echoed across the pit-lane, rare and light, catching Carlos off guard. A few people turned to look, but he smiled to himself and resisted the urge to do the same.

All he could do was hope that his younger teammate knew what was at stake, and took great care in the meantime. 

— 

Amelia lingered at the edge of the McLaren hospitality, watching the crowds begin to surge toward the podium. The noise was already swelling; chants, cheers, announcers shouting over each other, and she could feel the pressure building in her chest, like the edge of a storm. 

She didn’t usually go. Podiums were too loud, too crowded, too much. But this was Lewis, and he’d won his home race, and something just… tugged at her.

She turned, scanning the garage until she found Lando, who was mid-conversation with one of the engineers, still in his race suit, half-zipped down and tied around his waist. His face was flushed with post-race adrenaline, curls stuck damp to his forehead. But when he saw her staring, he excused himself and jogged over.

“You okay?” he asked, slightly breathless.

“I think…” She hesitated, glancing at the rising noise and the streamers already flying in the air. “I want to go to the podium. For Lewis. Just for a bit.”

Lando blinked, but then he grinned, and she stared. He was… he was all sunlight and softness. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.” He said. 

She nodded once, but didn’t move.

Lando seemed to understand immediately. “Do you have your defenders?”

She nodded and pulled them out of her cross-body. “Yes.”

“Good,” he said. “Put them on. It’ll be chaos.”

“I will try not to freak out.” She promised him. 

“I won’t let that happen,” Lando said, already turning to lead the way.

He didn’t reach for her, didn’t crowd her. Just walked a few steps ahead, carving space through the sea of people with casual ease, occasionally glancing back to make sure she was still following. She appreciated that. That he didn’t hover. That he didn’t try to fix, fix, fix. Just… made it easier.

By the time they reached the base of the podium, the champagne was already spraying. Lewis stood centre stage, beaming, arms raised in triumph. The crowd roared, and Amelia’s McLaren branded ear defenders did their job, muting the sharp edges of it until it was just a distant hum. She watched Lewis through the fog of smoke and sound, her eyes soft with pride. He deserved this. He always did.

Lando leaned slightly toward her, not close enough to touch, just enough that she could hear him clearly. “You glad you came?”

She nodded, eyes still on the podium. “Yes. It’s good.”

The following day, a picture of them would go viral on F1 social media. Lando, still in his fireproofs, race suit dragging slightly against the ground, standing just behind Amelia — who wore her noise-cancelling headphones like armour, her eyes fixed on the podium. She was smiling, wide and unguarded, the kind of smile people didn’t often get to see from her. Lando was looking at her; fond and sweet.

The photo would circle the internet within hours. People would say a lot of things.

But the overwhelming consensus?

Soulmates.

Whether they knew it yet or not.

NEXT CHAPTER

[supernovafics]

𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 8.7k words

summary: in which you and steve randomly meet at a bar and realize that you two can help each other out with a similar problem

warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of past bad relationships (very recent breakups), smut (18+), oral (f!receiving), protected p in v sex

author’s note: i genuinely can’t believe how long this ended up being lol hope yall enjoy though!<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“We could be the greatest wingwoman and wingman for you right now if you just let us, dingus.”

Steve rolled his eyes at Robin’s words. “I already let you guys drag me to this bar, isn’t that enough?”

Robin responded with a simple, “No, it’s not” before taking another sip of her drink, while Eddie said something about how if this were a year ago, they wouldn’t have had to force Steve to this bar because he would have suggested the idea himself. 

“Monica changed you for the worse, man,” Eddie continued, and Steve only frowned at him. 

Robin gave Eddie’s arm a quick whack. “Hey, we promised no Monica slander tonight. At least not right in front of him.”

Steve gave them both the most unamused look. “You guys really had to make a deal about that? To not talk shit about my ex?”

“Okay, don’t say it like that,” Robin told him. “It would actually be super warranted if we did wanna talk shit about her. She was super pretentious and she hated all of your friends; me and Eddie, especially.”

Steve couldn’t think of a rebuttal to that on the spot, so he ended up saying nothing. And then he reminded himself that Monica had brutally dumped him two weeks ago, so why should he even want to defend her to his best friends anymore?

“There’s seriously not one girl here right now that you could maybe be interested in?” Eddie asked, and Steve was grateful that the conversation was at least slightly shifting away from Monica.

But, he didn’t even take a quick look around the bar before answering Eddie’s question with an immediate “No” and hoping that the subject would change again.

Eddie groaned and then proceeded to finish what was left of his beer, and Robin sighed before saying, “If you at least talked to a random girl here, and just maybe flirted a little bit, don’t you think you’d feel a little less sad about the breakup?”

“I’m not sad about it, though,” Was Steve’s immediate response, and it was only kind of a lie. 

It really wasn’t Monica breaking up with him that made him sad; it was more about him spending almost a year of his life with someone that he knew he probably shouldn’t have been with in the first place because of how incompatible they were. That hard truth was what made him feel sad and a little stupid. Actually, scratch that, a lot stupid. But things with her had become so comfortable and routine that it eventually felt easier staying than leaving. 

Robin simply gave him a look before shaking her head. “You’re a terrible liar. Last night I saw you watching that one National Geographic documentary that you only watch when you’re sad. Which I still find kinda weird, but you’re my best friend and I love you and all of your weird coping habits.”

“Wait, which documentary is it again?” Eddie asked, laughing a little. “The one about the whales or the one about the lions?”

“Whales,” Robin answered. “And it's like three hours long.”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Steve abruptly said before Robin or Eddie could say anything else. 

He left his half-drunk beer with his friends and walked away from the high table they’d been occupying for the past hour and headed toward where the bathrooms were down a random hallway. 

“Don’t try to sneak out the back. We have your location and we will find you,” He heard Robin say from behind him. “And don’t turn it off now that I just mentioned it.”

Steve laughed as he held up his hand, giving her a quick thumbs-up in response. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There was only so much waiting and hiding you could do, so you decided to ask the first guy that you saw exiting the bathroom. 

“Hey, are the two girls sitting at the end of the right side of the bar looking this way?” 

Surprisingly, this random guy didn’t question why you were asking him that, or why you couldn’t check that yourself, or even question why you were so obviously hiding in this slightly secluded hallway where the terrible bathrooms were. 

Instead, he stepped out of the hallway a little bit and took a peek around the corner for you, and then turned back to you after a second. “Yeah, I see two girls looking this way.”

“Shit.”

“Who are they?”

“My friends.”

The confused look he gave you was immediate. “Why are you trying to avoid your friends?”

You sighed as you leaned back against the wall behind you. “Because they’re trying to convince me that going home with a random guy tonight will help me get over my boyfriend who just broke up with me.”

The laugh he let out in response surprised you. It also made you feel equal parts offended and amused. 

“Is my devastating heartbreak funny to you?”

For the most part, you were exaggerating; your breakup with Elliott hadn’t actually been all too devastating— no outward lying or cheating, just a lot of miscommunications and bad timings— but you kind of wanted this random guy to feel at least a little bad for laughing at you. 

“Shit, no, sorry,” He said, and his cheeks reddened a bit in what you could only assume was embarrassment, and you suddenly felt kind of bad about getting so defensive. “I just laughed because my friends are trying to do the same thing for me, too.” 

“Oh, sorry,” You said, feeling slightly worse now that you knew that you two were in the same boat. “Sorry about your breakup.”

He shrugged like it was fine. “How long have you been standing here hiding from your friends?”

“Five minutes, maybe,” You answered as you pulled out your phone to quickly check the time. Seeing that it was a little after ten thirty let you know that you’d actually been standing here for closer to ten minutes, but you didn’t correct yourself. “My plan is to somehow find an opening to slip out the front door, and then I’ll send them a picture from my Uber telling them that I left.”

“Solid plan.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

“Maybe a little bit,” He said, giving you a small smile, and it was then that you were realizing, or finally noticing, that this guy was cute; even in the shitty bar lighting you could tell that. 

Maybe it was because of his sweet smile, or maybe it was the denim jacket he was wearing over a plain white t-shirt that suited him really well. Or maybe it was his hair that looked as if he got out of bed and pushed a quick hand through it and then proceeded to leave his home, and you meant that in the best way possible.

Either way, this guy was really cute and so clearly your type— even though you felt like you were in no place to consider anything romantic with anyone, you could recognize his attractiveness— and you were suddenly being hit with an idea.

“Wait, you said that your friends are trying to set you up with someone here too, right?”

He let out a sigh. “Yeah, they are.”

“And I’m guessing by that sigh that you don’t wanna do that?” You asked, and when he shook his head in answer, you continued. “Okay, I think we maybe can help each other get out of here. This might sound a little insane since we literally don’t know each other at all, but let’s just pretend we really like each other in front of our friends— like, be super flirty and whatever. And then we’ll leave here together, letting them think that we’re gonna…” The thought of saying the word suddenly made you feel awkward, so you didn’t. “Do what they want us to do.”  

After taking a moment to process your sudden idea— you honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if the guy said no because it was pretty weird— he nodded. “That’s actually a really great idea.” 

“Thank you. I’m known for my great ideas, actually,” You said, smiling at him as you reached out to grab his hand and intertwine it with yours. 

If the thought of saying that you and this stranger were gonna have sex made you feel awkward, then abruptly holding his hand should’ve felt weird too, but surprisingly it didn’t. “Alright, let’s just act like we’re super into each other, I guess.” 

“I’m Steve, by the way,” He told you. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably important information to know,” You said and then proceeded to tell him your name too. 

You led the way to your friends and the small corner of the bar where they were lingering by. 

“Hey, guys, this is Steve,” You said and slapped on the happiest smile you could muster at the moment. 

“Steve,” Danielle was the first one to say something after noticing your and Steve’s interlocked hands. “What’s your last name?”

“Harrington.”

And then Amy was jumping in. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.” 

“What do you do?”

“I work at the record store down the street.”

“So, you’re a music guy?”

“Not really, I guess. My friend got me a job there.” 

You decided to stop the interrogation before Steve got scared away by this back and forth questioning Danielle and Amy were doing. “Okay, okay, that’s enough of the interview. His friends are gonna think he ditched them or something.”

“You guys should come over to the table we’re at,” Steve said and then pointed in the direction of where his friends were with his free hand. “There’s enough room.”

You nodded at his words. “That’s a great idea.” 

If Danielle or Amy were aware of this act you were putting on— how you were no longer rejecting their idea of you flirting with some guy to “get over” Elliott— they didn’t call you out on it. Instead, they agreed that going to the table with Steve’s friends was a good idea. 

Quick introductions were made, and then the group settled into typical small talk. However, you and Steve deliberately fell into your own kind of “flirty conversation” and played it up for your friends, all of whom tried to pretend that they weren’t intensely watching you two, but they failed miserably at hiding their staring, which was exactly what you both wanted. 

After a few minutes of exaggerated smiles and elated laughs, Steve leaned in close to your ear. “How long do you think we’re gonna have to do this?”

You softly giggled like he just whispered the sweetest thing to you and then leaned into his ear. “Follow my lead.”

You pulled back and then shifted so that you were standing closer to him, and he quickly took the hint and wrapped his arm around you. 

“Hey,” You said, grabbing the attention of your friends and his, which was easy because they had already been half-listening to you and Steve anyway. “We’re gonna head out of here, so we’ll see you guys later.”

There was a mix of confused and surprised looks that crossed all over their faces for the briefest moment, and then Amy was the one to first say something. “Really?”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I want to take Steve to my place to show him something.”

“Since I’ve never seen the second Home Alone movie, we’re gonna watch that,” Steve added. Out of all of the movies he could’ve said, you weren’t sure why he was mentioning a Christmas one in September, but sure, you’d play along. 

“You’re gonna watch a movie?” Robin asked, somehow looking both skeptical and amused. 

Steve nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yup,” You agreed as you reached up to lace your fingers with his hand that was around your shoulders and used that to push yourself even closer to him. 

“Okay,” Eddie said, failing to bite back his grin. “Have fun watching a movie.”

“We will,” Steve told him and gave your hand a light squeeze. 

“I’ll text you guys later,” You said to Danielle and Amy, who were looking at you with equally surprised but happy looks. After so many years of friendship, it was pretty easy to read each other, but you hoped that they couldn’t see through what you were doing; you hoped you were faking all of this well enough.

Neither of them said anything, though, and they instead nodded and said different versions of “We’ll talk to you in the morning,” which let you know that they were just happy that you were actually following through with what they wanted you to do tonight. 

Steve pulled his arm from around you and just went to normally holding your hand, and you two said final goodbyes to your friends and then headed away from the table. You two stayed practically attached at the hip until you were out of the door. The cold hit you immediately, but it wasn’t too unbearable with your jacket on, although you still wished that you had opted for a better dress. You gave Steve a quick look as the bar door closed behind you both.   

“Nice idea with the movie thing, even though Home Alone 2 is so random,” You said with a laugh. “They all definitely think we’re about to go have sex in my apartment.”

“I’ve kinda used that movie line before,” Steve said. “It’s been a while, but Robin and Eddie still know what it means.” 

You gave him an amused smile. “Okay, so Home Alone 2 is code for ‘I’m about to go hook up with this random girl’?”

“No, I don’t use the same movie every time,” He laughed a little. “That one was just the first thing that came to my mind this time.”

You nodded as you slipped your hand from his and you reached into the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. You opened the Uber app and ordered a car so that you could finally go home. 

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the night?” Steve asked as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. 

“Head home and probably finish the bottle of wine that I had been drinking before my friends dragged me here, and then call my ex and leave very stupid voicemails.”

You didn’t mean to be so honest— if your friends had asked you that question, you would’ve lied and avoided any and all mentions of Elliott because you wanted to make it seem like you were dealing with the breakup just fine— but talking to Steve made you want to be truthful for some reason; maybe because you two were going through the same thing. 

“That doesn’t sound like the best idea.”

“It’s not,” You agreed, but didn’t say that you wouldn’t still be following through with it. 

Things became quiet as you two stood on this sidewalk, not at all as close as you two were when you were trying to play things up in front of your friends. There was actual space between you two for the first time in the last ten minutes, and you weren’t looking at him anymore, instead, you were focused on the quiet street. The faint sounds of all the noise coming from inside the bar managed to fill the silence, and you wondered if this was the part where you two were supposed to go your separate ways. Now that you helped each other get what you both wanted, what else was there to say or do? 

You were about to mumble something along the lines of “Thanks for your help tonight,” but Steve was speaking before you could. “My ex texted me earlier.”

Weirdly enough, you actually felt a little relieved that he was keeping the conversation going. You honestly didn’t mind talking to him. There was something about this entire conversation that felt so simple and easy, even though you were talking about kind of shitty things. 

You looked at him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“My friends would say bad. And a part of me knows it’s bad too, but I don’t know,” He shrugged. “It’s kinda tempting.”

You understood what he meant completely, but you still gave him advice that you probably wouldn’t have taken for yourself. “Okay, well, if my opinion matters at all in this, which I know it probably doesn’t, you shouldn’t text her back.”

“And then, in that case, you shouldn’t drunk call your ex,” He reminded you. 

“Why did you two break up?” You asked instead of outwardly agreeing with his words. 

“She did it two weeks ago over the phone,” Steve told you. “She said that things were feeling “off” between us and maybe they always had been.”

“Ouch,” That word felt like an understatement to represent just how shitty breaking up with someone over a phone call was, but it was all you could manage to say right then. 

He gave you a quick nod, breaking your gaze for a second, and then he threw the question your way. “What about you?”

“He wanted to move to California, and I wanted to stay here,” You answered. That was the short version of it; the easy version of it. 

“Okay, that sounds pretty amicable,” Steve responded. 

You almost simply agreed with him just to let this part of the conversation end, but it didn't feel right doing that. For reasons you couldn’t fully recognize just yet, you didn’t want to lie to Steve. 

“It wasn’t,” You admitted softly. “The moving thing came up months ago, and if we were smart, we would’ve just ended things then, but we didn’t. I told him I didn’t want to move, and he said that was fine, but it definitely wasn’t fine. He started pulling away and being a dick, and we both became really shitty toward each other by the end of it until he finally broke up with me and then moved like he wanted to.”

“Okay, nevermind. That sounds like it sucked.”

“And yours seems pretty bad too,” You said. “Doing it over the phone is such a fucked move. Did you see it coming?”

“No, but also yes, which probably doesn’t even make sense,” He answered, and in your eyes, it did make sense, but you didn’t interrupt him to tell him that. “There was something that always felt “off” about us, but in the moment, it never seemed like that big of a deal. Looking back now, though, it’s so obvious that we were never gonna work, and I guess it’s kinda good that she ended it.”

“But, she texted you today,” You reminded him. 

“Yeah,” He said and then sighed. 

“I still don’t think you should say anything back to her,” You told him. “Now, after hearing that she broke up with you over the phone, she definitely doesn’t deserve a text back.”

“If you don’t call your ex tonight, I won’t text mine back,” Steve said, giving you a look that you couldn’t fully decipher, but you were still nodding at his words. 

“Deal,” You said and then held out your hand for him to shake— because it felt like the obvious thing to do, even if the “deal” you two were making was a playful one— and he did. You didn’t understand how his hand was still warm after being out in the cold for the past few minutes, but it was nice all the same. 

As if on cue, a car pulled up in front of the bar with the all too familiar Uber sticker in its windshield. You looked at it for a quick second and then at your phone to make sure it was the right car. And then after that confirmation, you looked at Steve. 

“You coming?”

The confused look he gave you was immediate. “You want me to?”

You nodded and smiled at him. “Yeah, how else are we gonna make sure we both follow through with the deal we just made?”

“Makes sense,” Steve said, nodding back with a small, amused smile on his face, and then he followed you to the car. 

You two sat on opposite ends in the backseat, and it was probably the first time all night that the silence between you two felt a little awkward.  

“Can I read the text she sent you?” You asked, halfway through the ten-minute ride. “Sorry, if that’s weird, I don’t know why I’m so curious.” 

“Not weird,” Steve told you as he tapped on his phone for a second and then handed it over to you. 

You took a brief look at the previous messages sent between them, which was a lot of simple stuff, and then you focused on the most recent one. 

I’ve been thinking about you a lot today. Maybe we can meet up soon and talk? Let me know when you’re free. 

It was hard not to roll your eyes at the message. It felt almost too painstakingly equivalent to something Elliott had said to you the day he moved out of your apartment. His one final attempt to get you to change your mind and move to California with him, as if all the damage to your relationship hadn’t already been done. 

You were about to hand Steve his phone back, but then you noticed something. 

“Steve,” You said, looking at him in the darkness of the car. “Why is there still a heart by her name?”

“I haven’t gotten around to changing it yet,” He answered, which didn’t sound like the best excuse to you because you thought about how promptly you had changed Elliott’s contact name to “Asshole” once he left the apartment for the final time. 

“Alright, let me do the honors for you,” You said as you deleted the red heart and then Monica’s name entirely and simply put “EX.” “Okay, here you go.”

You handed the phone back to him, and he looked at what you did and then laughed a little. “I don’t know why I thought you were gonna make it something a lot meaner.”

“It was tempting,” You started. “But, I don’t know her, so I don’t know what mean stuff would’ve been the most fitting.”

Steve nodded as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “What’s your ex’s name?”

“Asshole in my contacts and Elliott in real life,” You answered and Steve laughed again and then said a quick, “Got it.”

You made it to your apartment building five minutes later and it took another five minutes, due to very shitty elevators, to make it to your actual apartment.  

“Welcome to my place,” You said to Steve as you flicked on the light and then pulled off your jacket and hung it on one of the hooks by the front door, and slipped off your shoes. 

“Did you just move in?” Steve asked, following suit and doing the same with his jacket, and then toeing off his shoes by the door as well. 

The half-emptiness of your apartment didn’t really faze you anymore, but you understood how unfinished the place looked to someone who was seeing it for the first time. 

“Oh, no, I’ve been here for almost three years now. When Elliott moved out, he took a lot of things, so it looks a little weird and half-decorated now,” You quickly explained, hoping that you successfully masked the sudden awkwardness in your voice because you now felt the tiniest bit embarrassed that you brought him here. “I’m still working on getting a new TV, so for now we can just watch something on my laptop if you want.”

Before Steve could say anything in response, you grabbed your laptop from where it sat on the small coffee table in your living room and then handed it over to him. “I’ll be right back; I need to get out of this dress. But you can put on whatever you want.” 

“Okay,” You heard him say as you headed toward your bedroom. 

It didn’t hit you how sort of insane this entire situation was until you closed your bedroom door behind you, and you were left alone for the first time since you met Steve near the bar bathrooms. Now, logical thinking was kicking in, and you considered just how much of a bad idea all of this was. 

There was a guy who you barely knew in your apartment, and you had no plans on having sex with him, so this wouldn’t end up being a one-night stand kind of thing. So, what would happen instead? You two would simply talk and genuinely watch a movie, and then what?

Although you had no idea what the answer to that question was, it actually didn’t completely scare you. Because yes, this was kind of an odd set of circumstances, but you and Steve were going through the same thing, and that somehow made everything feel different. You weren’t nervous around him, and you hadn’t been all night; instead, things had felt weirdly easy, you realized. And you decided to keep leaning into that easy feeling and not overthink whatever this was or would be.  

You slipped out of your dress and put on what was probably the most comfortable pair of pajama pants you owned and a simple t-shirt. When you stepped out of your bedroom and headed back into the living room, you saw Steve sitting on the couch, and a small, slightly amused smile tugged at your lips as you noticed what was playing on your laptop, which was opened up and back on the coffee table.

“Okay, I definitely didn’t expect you to put on a nature documentary,” You said as you sat down next to him, leaving a fair amount of space between you two. “I don’t know why I thought you’d put on something super boyish. Like, Die Hard or one of the million Fast and Furious movies.”

“Oh, I was planning on putting on Die Hard after this,” He said, and you immediately took notice of the playful tilt in his voice.

“An ocean documentary and Die Hard sounds like a solid double feature,” You joked back with a smile, and Steve laughed in response and then proceeded to tell you that this documentary was specifically about whales. 

A comfortable silence began to linger as you grabbed the throw blanket that was folded on the back of the couch and spread it over your lap and then offered some of it to Steve, which he accepted— it was long enough to fit you both comfortably even though you weren’t right next to each other. And then you focused on the documentary and the Australian narrator talking about the vastness of the ocean. 

“We can watch something else if you want,” Steve abruptly said about five minutes in. His words slightly surprised you because you had actually been finding the documentary pretty interesting so far and you hadn’t done anything to show otherwise. “My friends always hate when I put this on.”

You looked away from the laptop screen and at him. “How often do you watch this?”

“Whenever I’m not feeling great,” He answered, turning a little to look at you too. “Like, sick or sad.”

“Okay, and with your breakup, I guess this has been on repeat these past two weeks?” You asked, and the nod he gave you in response made you think that he was embarrassed by that answer, and you immediately wanted to make him not feel that way. “My personal sad go-to has been putting on this one reality show where people do dumb obstacle courses to win money. There’s like twenty seasons of that show and I’m halfway through it.”

“That’s what we should actually watch after this,” Steve said, giving you a playful smile. 

“Yeah, and we can wallow in our collective sadness,” You nodded in agreement, which made him laugh. “And this will probably sound weird or just not even make sense, but I’m not even sad about me and him breaking up, because I know that it definitely needed to happen. I’m sad about basically wasting the last two years of my life with someone who didn’t end up being “the one” or whatever. Thinking about that feels so much worse than the breakup itself.”

Steve gave you a look that you couldn’t decipher at all. It was probably the first time all night that you felt slightly self-conscious under his gaze. You got the urge to look away from him and focus back on the whales on screen, but you didn’t. 

Instead, your eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Sorry, it’s just, I feel the exact same way pretty much,” He told you. “I’m not really that sad that Monica broke up with me, I just feel really stupid that we were even together in the first place. She didn’t really like my friends and would always make fun of my job.”

“Didn’t you say you work at a record store? What is there to make fun of about that?” 

“She would say a lot of stuff about how ‘it’s a job that’s going nowhere,’ but then play it off like she was just joking.” 

You were unable to hold back your grimace. “Wow, that sounds terrible.”

You noticed the embarrassed look cross his face and you felt the immediate need to change it.  

“Sorry, sorry, I’m not judging,” You quickly told him. “Elliott called me a lot of mean things by the end, and I still stayed with him, so I know all about making dumb decisions in a relationship.”

Steve frowned at your words. “How mean?”

“So mean that you’re actually the first person I’ve even mentioned that to. It still feels way too embarrassing to bring it up to my friends,” You admitted, and it was then that you had to finally look away from him. “I don’t really get why it’s so easy to talk to you.”

“Probably because we’re basically strangers,” Steve said, and after considering his words for a second, you nodded. “And fuck him, by the way, for whatever mean shit he said to you. That sounds pretty terrible too.”

“That’s why I wanted to call him tonight and leave equally as mean drunk voicemails, but you talked me out of it,” You said, finally meeting Steve’s eyes again. “You’re right, though, it would’ve been stupid to do that.”

Steve shook his head. “Oh, when you said that, I thought you meant that you wanted to leave the sappy kind of drunk voicemails where you talk about wanting to get back with him or something.” 

“Oh, no way. I was just gonna list off a bunch of bad things about him,” You responded. “Like, the kinds of things that when you’re dating the person, it just seems like a little quirk or bad habit that you can overlook, but in hindsight you’re like, why did I put up with any of that, y’know?”

Steve nodded understandingly. “Can I hear the list?” 

“You sure you wanna hear me rant about my ex?” You asked him with an amused smile, and Steve laughed a little and nodded again. “Okay, he would always forget to turn off stuff before he left the apartment; the TV, lights, anything really. He never did the dishes and would always get a little annoyed when I asked him to do it. Oh, and he hated whenever I would beat him at any kind of games.” 

“That’s a very solid list.”

“Also, he,” You started and then immediately cut yourself off, realizing that maybe you should have at least somewhat of a filter. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

Steve gave you a look. “Wait, now you have to say it.”

“He never…” You looked away from Steve’s curious gaze and instead focused on the blanket draped over your lap. You pulled at a random loose string as you said your next words. “He never went down on me.”

“Really?” He asked, and you simply nodded because it suddenly felt too hard to form words right then. “You were together for almost two years, and he didn’t do it once?”

You nodded again and then finally found your voice. “He said he wasn’t a “fan” of it. Meanwhile, he loved when I gave him a blowjob.” 

It was pretty obvious that your filter was completely gone at this point; if it had ever even really been there in the first place when it came to Steve. 

“Wow.”

You tilted your head at him. “I can’t tell what that wow means.”

“It means that he’s an idiot and you should’ve been the one dumping him, not the other way around, and also, once again, he’s definitely an idiot.”

You laughed a little. “Woah, who knew one word could mean so much?”

“Yeah, it has a ton of connotations to it,” Steve joked, smiling at you. 

You both went back to watching the documentary on your laptop, but there was something about this part of the conversation that didn’t feel over yet. You didn’t feel like you could just go back to watching this whale documentary as if you hadn’t just admitted the most embarrassing thing about your sex life.  

“Um, what about you, though?” You asked, and Steve looked at you again, a confused furrow to his eyebrows like he didn’t fully get what you meant by the question, so you elaborated. “What was shitty about your sex life?”

Steve was quiet at first, and for a second, you thought that maybe for the first time that night, you two had reached a question that was “too much,” or worse, there had been nothing bad about his sex life with his ex, so he had no answer to give you.  

“Um, she always wanted to do the same thing,” Steve finally answered after what felt like the longest stint of silence ever, and you were completely confused by that response. 

“What do you mean?”

“She only wanted to do missionary. Nothing else,” He explained. “And I know that it’s a classic, I get that completely, and it definitely is. But sometimes you just wanna change things up, y’know?”

You nodded instead of outwardly saying anything because you didn’t want to admit that aside from the lack of oral, your sex life with Elliott had been pretty good. 

“So, almost a year of just missionary?” You asked, and Steve gave you a nod that seemed equivalent to the one you’d given him when it was you answering this kind of question. “What would you do if you could choose?”

You noticed his cheeks turning the tiniest hint of pink as he considered the question. “Oh, um, girl on top, I think. That one’s pretty good.” 

You weren’t sure why you expected him to say something a little crazier, but you didn’t tell him that. 

“Good choice,” Was what you said instead. 

There was another lull in the conversation, and maybe that was where it should’ve finally ended, but there was something about it that still didn’t feel entirely over just yet. 

“I could—”

“We could—”

Your and Steve’s suddenly spoken words stumbled over each other and made you both stop abruptly.  

“What were you gonna say?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You can go first.”

“No, no, I’m a gentleman,” Steve told you, a small smile on his face. “So, ladies first.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but there was nothing serious behind it. “I was gonna say that maybe we could… Maybe we could help each other out. Like, show one another what the other was ‘missing out on’ while they were in their relationship.” You then rushed out your next words before Steve could respond to your previous ones. “What were you gonna say?”

“I was gonna say that I could do what your ex didn’t want to do for you.”

“Just me?” You asked, and he nodded. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair if you got nothing out of this.”

Steve gave you a quick shrug. “I wasn’t really thinking about me.”

You teasingly smiled at him. “Wow, you truly are a gentleman.”

He laughed. “I told you.”

“If we did actually do this, though,” You started. “I would also wanna do your thing too.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. If you go down on me, I’ll happily ride you.” 

Finally outwardly saying the words made you laugh a little; you couldn’t help it. None of what was happening right then felt exactly weird, but it was definitely… surprising.  

“This is such an insane conversation,” Steve responded, laughing too. 

“Oh, yeah, it definitely is,” You said, looking away from him and focusing back on your laptop screen for a second. “We could just go back to watching the documentary and pretend this never happened.”

“Is that what you wanna do?”

“Not really, no,” You admitted. Logically, your answer probably should’ve been the opposite, but you honestly couldn’t imagine saying yes to his previous question and actually pretending that this conversation hadn’t happened. “Do you?”

Steve shook his head. “No.”

“Okay, so it’s settled then. Should we shake on this too?” You asked, mainly joking with your words. 

“Yes, definitely,” He said, playing along. “That’s the only way it will be real.”

You scooted a little closer to him, closing most of the space between you two on the couch, and then held out your hand. “So, deal?”

He grabbed your outstretched hand and shook it. “Deal.”

This was the second handshake shared between you two, but this one felt charged with something different than the one outside the bar. 

Steve’s hand was warm against yours, and you were also noticing how soft it was too. Your eyes stayed on his, and even though you didn’t really know him that well, if at all, you still felt as if you somehow understood what was going on in his head because it matched exactly what was happening in yours. 

With your hands still linked together, he pulled you closer, and then let go at the last second to find your cheek and slot his lips against yours. It was messy at first, a sudden clash of tongues and teeth, but it also felt really good, and it took only a second for you two to find your collective rhythm.  

Steve was a great kisser, which surprised you because first kisses with people were never this good, and they definitely never felt this right. There were always some sort of growing pains as you navigated what to do and figured out what the other wanted, but that somehow wasn’t the case for you and Steve. 

You definitely didn’t expect your first post-Elliott kiss to be damn near perfect, and you decided not to think too much about what exactly it meant that it was happening with Steve; a guy you’d barely known for two hours. 

“You’re really good at this,” You mumbled against his lips. 

“What? Kissing?” He whispered back in between each one. 

“Yeah.”

Steve pulled back to look at you, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. “Thanks. You’re really good too.”

You suddenly started feeling shy under his gaze, so you quickly leaned back in to get him to stop looking at you so sweetly. His hand still holding your cheek kept you steady and further warmed your already burning skin, and you let out the softest sound against his mouth when his free hand slipped beneath your shirt and found your waist, giving the bare skin a quick squeeze. 

You wanted to move out of this awkward side-by-side position and sit in his lap, but you also wanted to get off the couch completely, so you abruptly pulled away from him and stood up. Wordlessly, your hand found Steve’s again, and you led him to your bedroom. 

The second the door was closed behind you both, Steve’s mouth eagerly found yours again, which made you smile into the kiss, as he walked you back toward the bed. The second the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed, he gently pushed you down on top of it.  

Before he could even ask or say anything, you were pulling your t-shirt off and tossing it somewhere to the side, and then doing the same with your pajama pants. The look he gave you as you now lay on your bed, half naked with only your bra and underwear on, made something stir in your stomach. 

“You okay up there?” You asked after a moment, making your voice light and playful, and also trying to push away the feelings that were starting to make a home in your stomach. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… Fuck,” He let out a breath. “You’re really pretty.”

You had to turn your head and look away from him then, but you still couldn’t help but smile at his words as your cheek pressed into the blanket. 

This was just supposed to be another case of two people helping each other out. This wasn’t supposed to be so sweet and nice and serious, right? You weren’t sure, but you could inwardly admit that you liked hearing him call you pretty. 

You still weren’t looking, but you could feel Steve settle on top of you and lean in to press his lips to your exposed neck, making you let out a quiet moan. 

He sucked on your skin, a sensitive spot on the underside of your jaw that had you mewling for him, as his hand moved down toward your cunt. He pulled your underwear to the side and slowly pressed his middle finger into your slick folds. 

“Shit,” He mumbled against your neck. “You’re soaked.”

You let out a soft breath. “Like I said, you’re really good at this.”

He pulled away from your clit and out of your wetness completely and you let out a whine in protest, but then his fingers were hooking into the waistband of your underwear and dragging them down your legs. Your bra was next, and you sat up a bit so that he could unhook it and toss it to the side. 

“Fuck,” Steve said, leaning back to simply just look at you for a moment. “You look so perfect for me.”

You were completely naked now, and he was still fully clothed, but you didn’t even feel shy under his lust-filled gaze because you really liked the way he was looking at you in this moment.

Before you could make any move to grab at the ends of his t-shirt to at least pull that off of him, his mouth was on you once again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and then moving to your neck and continuing lower and lower. 

Your eyes slipped shut, and you let out the softest sounds as he slowly trailed down your stomach and went to your hips and then to your inner thighs, teasingly pressing his mouth against your warm skin at every spot. You felt his hands hook around your thighs and pull you closer to him. 

“Hey,” Steve said to grab your attention, and your eyes met his. Looking at him with his head between your legs and his mouth so close to where you needed him to be was probably the hottest thing you’d ever seen. “Tell me if you want me to do anything differently, okay?”

You nodded before softly saying, “Okay.”

Your head fell back against the bed when his tongue ran a long slow stripe up your slit. He stopped at your clit, circling the bundle of nerves before latching his lips around it and giving it a quick suck. The gasp in pleasure and surprise you let out in response was immediate. 

After one too many rejections from Elliott, you told yourself that you didn’t like oral anyway, always reminding yourself of other times with past partners when it had been rushed and sloppy. But now you knew just how much you’d been lying to yourself because this felt fucking phenomenal. Steve’s mouth felt perfect on you, and there was nothing about this moment that felt rushed or half-baked, like he was just trying to quickly get to the next thing. 

He slipped two fingers inside of you, pushing in as deep as he could go and his mouth went to your clit again. Your fingers threaded through his hair as he lapped at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Steve could tell just how much you were enjoying yourself with every tug on his hair and the contented sounds you were making above him. 

His hand still on your thigh squeezed roughly as he started to suck hard on your clit, which pushed you closer and closer to the edge. It should’ve maybe felt a little embarrassing— how quickly he was about to make you come only from his mouth and fingers— but everything just felt so fucking good that you didn’t care how fast he was making the tight knot in your stomach feel as if it was going to explode. 

“Steve, I- I’m gonna… Fuck,” You trailed off with a loud moan. Words were alluding in this moment as Steve continued his ministrations against your dripping cunt; his mouth on the most sensitive part of you and his fingers deep inside you, curling against an almost too perfect spot.  

Your own fingers pulled a little harder at his dark locks, which made him moan against your clit and the vibrations from that abruptly sent you over the edge. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” The words fell from your lips in a sort of whispered chant as your back arched sharply off the bed and you saw stars behind your eyes. 

Steve continued exactly what he was doing as you came, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. He happily took and lapped at everything you gave him, absolutely loving the taste of you on his tongue. He continued to finger you and eat you out through your orgasm until he felt you become too overstimulated. 

“Fuck,” You squeaked out when his tongue did one final teasing lick against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fuck, that was really good.”

Steve pulled away, and he sat up a little, smiling as he watched you come down from your high. “I’m sorry you’ve had to miss out on that for the past two years.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “Thank you for the condolences.” 

Your heart rate slowly returned to normal, and you turned to Steve, who was now sitting next to you, and you took notice of the obvious tint in his jeans. 

You reached out to palm his hard length. “Girl on top is what you wanted, right?”

He let out a low groan. “Mhm, yeah, but only if you want to do that.”

“Steve,” You said so his eyes would meet yours, and then you proceeded to give him the reassurance that it seemed so clear that he needed. “I really want to do that for you.”

He looked at you so sweetly, and this time you didn’t look away, you simply just smiled back at him as you crawled into his lap. 

Your fingers immediately grabbed the ends of his t-shirt to pull it up and off of him. “Let’s make things even, yeah?”

He nodded, and you shifted back a bit so that you could work on the button of his jeans. You then lifted your hips so that he could push his jeans and boxers down his legs and off him completely. 

Your eyes became glued to his hard cock. You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but he was huge and you could feel yourself becoming wetter at the thought of him filling you up. 

“You have such a pretty cock, Steve,” You whispered as you wrapped a hand around him and brushed your thumb over his slick tip. He groaned in pleasure, and one of his hands immediately found your hip in response, squeezing the bare skin. 

A part of you wanted him to be rougher; you honestly didn’t mind the thought of finding Steve-shaped bruises on your skin in the morning. However, you didn’t tell him that because this moment wasn’t about you.  

“Does that feel good?” You asked instead, voice soft and gentle, as if you couldn’t tell the answer to your question just by all the sounds Steve was making and by the way he was twitching in your hand. 

“Perfect,” He groaned out, eyes meeting yours just for a second before he was looking down and watching as you kept slowly stroking him from base to tip. “Fucking perfect.”

You smiled and wondered if this was how he felt when the roles were reversed and you were the one who was a mess below him. 

“Shit, I need,” Steve let out a strangled breath and his head fell back against the headboard with a soft thud. “Really need to be inside of you.”

You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you, and let go of him to reach over and grab a condom from your nightstand drawer.  

Steve watched as you tore open the foil packet and slipped the condom on his cock; it was probably one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. 

“Do you want me to turn around and take it that way, or like, how do you want this?” You asked, meeting his half lidded eyes as you went back to stroking his cock. After what he’d just done for you, you wanted this to be perfect for him. 

“No, I wanna see you,” He said, free hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. 

You could feel your skin warm under his touch; somehow, that felt like the most intimate thing he’d done to you so far tonight. You nodded at his words instead of saying anything because you were pretty certain your words would’ve failed you anyway. 

You lifted your hips so that you could line him up with your slick entrance and then your eyes met his as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, completely taking his cock inside of you. 

Your and Steve’s collective moans filled the quiet air, and you were the one to break eye contact with him because your eyes were pinching shut. 

Both of his hands shot to your hips to keep you from moving, which was good because you needed a moment to adjust to the feeling of being so full of him.  

“Shit, I’m gonna fucking explode if you move right now,” Steve mumbled, looking down at how well you were taking him. 

“That’s okay,” You told him softly. Your hands rested on his shoulders for a quick moment, and then they tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. 

He let out a chuckle and met your gaze. “I want this to last more than two seconds.” One of his hands came up to find your breast. “And I also want you to come with me.”

You hummed at the feeling of his fingers squeezing your already hard nipple. “Still such a gentleman.”

Steve laughed again, and that sound turned into a low groan when you lifted your hips ever so slightly and then sank back down onto him. 

“God, you feel so good,” He rambled out. “Taking me so fucking well.”

His words sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. “‘M so full.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked teasingly, and you simply nodded, words failing you the moment he pushed up into you. 

Whatever control you had was lost. You were technically riding him, but he was doing most of the work, and it seemed as if that was exactly what he wanted. He had a near-bruising grip on your hips as he guided your movements and hit all of the right places with each thrust. 

Your face became buried in his neck when it all felt like too much. “Fuck, I’m so close.” 

Your words were whispered against his soft skin, and you could feel his nod in response. “Yeah, me too.”

He slipped a hand between your bodies so that he could find your clit and you sucked in a breath when his thumb started circling it.

“I wanna see you,” He groaned when he felt you clench around his cock, and at first all you could do was hum against his skin in response. “I wanna see you come for me.”

You pulled back and met his gaze, hands finding his bare shoulders to keep you steady. It was harder to do than you expected because of how much you wanted to let your eyes slip shut and simply just take everything Steve was giving you. 

“Hi,” You softly said to him instead of closing your eyes or letting your head fall back in pleasure due to his teasing strokes against your clit. 

“Hi,” He gave you a smile that made your stomach flutter and his hand on your hip pulled you harder against his cock. “You gonna come for me?”

You could only moan in response and give him a meek nod, forcing your eyes to stay on his. The knot in your stomach was tightening and tightening, almost ready to completely unravel. 

“Go ahead,” He said as he thrusted up into you. “Let go.”

“Ah,” You dug your nails into his shoulders the second your orgasm hit you. He looked at you so fondly, like he truly cared about making you feel good, and that only made you come harder, walls fluttering around his cock. 

You once again buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking the skin and leaving red marks that would be there later. You landed on what you would later realize was an especially sensitive spot on his neck because the second your tongue grazed over it, Steve was letting out a loud moan and spilling into the condom. 

“Fuck,” He muttered as he came and his hands squeezed your hips to keep you firmly planted on his cock. 

You pulled away from his neck to watch him come apart beneath you. It was probably the prettiest thing you'd ever seen— his blown-out pupils, his mouth slightly parted in a moan, and a few locks of his messy hair falling against his forehead. 

Your and his movements slowed as you both came down from your highs. With his hands still on you, he shifted things so that you two were lying sideways on the bed. His softening cock slipped out of you in the process and you couldn’t help but quietly whine at the feeling. 

You two became a tangle of limbs and warm bodies, and your arms circled around his neck to push yourself even closer to him. 

“Was that good for you?” You asked, soft words hitting right against his ear. “You did like all of the work when it should’ve been the opposite.” 

His fingers began mindlessly stroking the bare skin of your back. “No, that was really good.” 

“Mm,” You hummed in response. “Okay, but it does slightly feel like I ended up getting a better outcome to the deal than you.” 

Steve let out a laugh at your playful words as he pulled away from you, and it took a lot of willpower to not protest his actions and keep him close to you. He pointed at a door, silently asking if that was where the bathroom was, and you nodded in response and he headed in.

You got up from your bed and started picking up the clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around the room. You slipped on your t-shirt and underwear, and when Steve emerged from the bathroom, you handed him his shirt and boxers.

It almost felt a little comical remembering that when you first let Steve into your apartment, you inwardly told yourself that you weren’t gonna have sex with him, and this wouldn’t turn into a one-night stand type of situation. 

And now here you two were. 

However, weirdly enough, the thought of this moment following the typical one-night stand rules— Steve leaving right now and you two never seeing each other again— didn’t sit right with you. 

“Have you really not seen Home Alone 2 before?” You asked Steve as he finished slipping on his t-shirt. The talk of that movie had been such a minor moment in the conversation at the bar earlier, but still, you remembered him mentioning it. 

“No, I haven’t,” He answered. 

“Me neither, actually,” You told him. Christmas movies had never really been your favorites. “Do you maybe wanna watch it now?”

You knew what your words meant— that you didn’t want him to leave yet, that you wanted him to stay a little longer— and he understood that too. 

He gave you a small smile and nodded. “Okay. And this is probably the best time to also admit that I’ve never seen the first one either.”

You let out a laugh as you headed into your living room, where your laptop was still playing the documentary from earlier, and Steve followed right behind you. “Okay, double feature it is, then.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts<333

[maskedbyghost]

part 1 part 2

You don’t hear from him for two days. Not a text. Not a call. Not a single word. So you finally text him something short—coming by later to grab the rest of my stuff. You didn’t want to leave it like this, but you're not gonna be the one to chase him anymore. You gave him more chances than you should’ve, waited too long for a guy who couldn’t even tell you he wanted you to stay.

He doesn’t reply, but the front door’s unlocked when you get there.

You push it open, step inside, and the second you do, he’s there—leaning in the doorway between the kitchen and the hall, like he’s been waiting, like he knew you’d come at exactly that time. You pause, feeling weird about the way he's just standing there watching you, but you keep your eyes ahead and walk toward the bedroom.

And then the lock clicks, and you freeze.

“Did you just lock the door?”

Simon doesn’t even flinch. Just walks toward you slowly, like this is normal. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re not leaving.”

You blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s joking or if he’s actually lost it. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re not leaving me.”

“Simon—”

“No,” he says, firmer this time, standing in front of you now. “I’m not letting you go. I fucked up. I know I did. I should’ve said something. I should’ve grabbed you when you were walking out. Should’ve told you how much it was killing me to watch you leave. But I didn’t. And I regret it. And I’m not gonna let you pack up your shit and pretend like we don’t mean anything.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to let your voice shake. “I’m just here to get my stuff.”

“No, you’re not,” he says, following you as you walk into the bedroom and grab the bag off the floor. “You’re here because you’re hoping I’ll say something to make you stay.”

You start throwing your things into the bag without looking at him. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He walks over and calmly pulls your sweatshirt out of the bag and folds it before putting it right back in the drawer.

You stare at him. “What are you doing?”

“Putting it back.”

“Simon, I swear to god—”

He pulls out another shirt, smooths it, puts it back in the closet.

“Stop it!” you snap, trying to push past him to grab it again.

But he steps in front of you, puts his arms around you and holds you against his chest. “No. You’re not going anywhere. I can’t let you. I haven’t slept, haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t complete shit, and I’ve been sitting in this house trying to figure out how I let the one person who gave a fuck about me walk out. I know I ruined it. I know you don’t trust me anymore. But I’ll earn it back. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll fix it. I swear.”

You struggle against him, not hard, but enough to make it clear you’re not just giving in. “Let go of me.”

He tightens his arms around you instead and presses a kiss to your cheek. Then another, and another, soft little ones, all over your face—your nose, your jaw, your forehead—mumbling between them like he’s afraid if he stops talking you’ll slip away again.

“I love you. I know I didn’t say it before but I do, and I’ve loved you for so fucking long and I didn’t know how to show it right, but I’ll learn. Just don’t go. Please. Ask anything from me, and I’ll do it. I’ll take time off, I’ll go to therapy, I’ll talk more, I’ll do the dishes without you asking. Just stay. I’ll give you everything. Just give me one more shot. Please, love. Please.”

You’re still half trapped in his arms, his voice right by your ear, and you try to stay mad, you really do. But the longer he holds you, the more ridiculous this whole scene feels, and the more you remember how badly you wanted him to fight for you, just once.

“Anything?” you ask, just to test it.

“Yeah. Anything. Just name it.”

You pull your head back a little, looking up at him. “You’ll let me get a cat?”

He blinks. “A cat?”

“You said no every time I brought it up.”

He groans a little but then lets out this small, helpless laugh and buries his face in your neck. “Fuckin’ hell. Yeah. Fine. Get a cat. Get two. I’ll buy it a bed nicer than mine, yeah?”

You try to hide your smile, but it slips through. “Even if it scratches your favorite chair?”

He looks up at you with a look of pure defeat. “Love, I’d let it scratch my face at this point. Just—don’t go, alright?”

You sigh, and it comes out more like a laugh, and he takes it as a win, because he pulls you in even tighter and doesn’t let go.

And this time, you don’t push him away.

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

can you forgive me now?

@daydreamerwoah @kylies-love-letter @ghostslollipop @kittygonap @alfiestreacle @identity2212 @farylfordaryl @rafaelacallinybbay @akkahelenaa @lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @wraith-bravo6 @tachiara @marispunk @gluttonybiscuits

[gay-dorito-dust]

Recently got into DMC and have been enjoying your headcanons so much. May I request headcanons for Dante and Vergil with a s/o who enjoys reading nearly as much as Vergil does?

Dante

never been a reader, unless you count magazines but i wouldn't put it past him to have a handful of books himself that he can actually get through and enjoy.

he's more fond of books that contain alot of actions more then anything, but besides that he doesn't read nearly as much as you or his brother did.

both you and his brother could read like there was nothing better to do, spending hours sitting down and reading a lengthy book, whereas dante could proably get into a couple of chapters before his need to move and do something else takes over.

yet if there's one thing that could get him to relax for long periods of time was listening to you talk about your readings, loving how excited you get with each and every chapter, even holding and comforting you when you hit emotionally destroying aspects of the book where certain characters meet unfotunate ends.

he just loves seeing you read as it feels as though he was reading along side you.

he loves the way your face reflected how you were feeling during certain aspects of the story, finding it cute when you mouthed the story to yourself to make sure you didn't miss an ounce of detail in case it'll come back futher down the line.

however he will become a pouty boy if you give your books more attention then him, seriously he'll get all huffy and act like your neglecting him if he sees that you were lost within your readings.

'just one more chapter dante.' you tell him, only for him to rest his head on your shoulder and groan.

'you said that five chapters ago. Pay attention to me.’

Needles to say you had to make yourself a schedule between times spent reading and time spent with a mopey half demon that demanded cuddles and kisses as compensation.

Dante would ask people who were well versed in books, even his own brother, when he wanted to get you something after seeing that you’ve pretty much read and re-read every book within your possession multiple times over.

He wanted you to start something new even though you had no issue re-reading some of your favourites that have become comfort stories to you at this point that it felt like you were being welcomed home in another universe in a way.

Yet the look upon your face when he does get you a new set of books was enough to make him mimic your wide smile as you threw yourself at him, clinging to him tightly as you gush over the new additions to your already overflowing collection, kissing his cheek in multiple thanks.

You felt loved knowing that Dante went out of his way to find you something you haven’t read yet, it was more precious to you than being given jewellery or any expensive gift. It held more meaning to you in ways most wouldn’t grasp.

But do expect Dante to drag you outside for some fresh air now and then, you tend to get lost in your books that Dante drags you out of the room and out the house, claims your both going on a walk together with your fingers tightly interlocked together.

Vergil

he's naturally founder towards people who appreciate reading books and or has a fondess for poetry as him.

it makes things a little easier for him to make conversation and to understand the inner workings of your mind.

would you have met at a bookstore? reaching for the same book in every cliche meet cute? yes because i too am that cliche and Vergil will take note of your taste in literature from the books within your hands and makes an hum of apporval.

Edgar Allen Poe, george Orwell, Mary shelley, bram stroker, Harper Lee, emily bronte, Jane Austein, R F Kuang (i love adding her, sue me) Kurt Vonegut amongst many, many more.

finally someone who wasn't always preocupied by their phone, dwlindiling their attention span to pathetic lows that even a goldfish would outsmart them with embrassing ease. (he can't use one for shit, nor does he want to)

so to find that you had affilation to spending most of your days within your home, busy reading books and delving into stories as your face gave away your feelings towards the plot lines and character development.

meanwhile the only reactions you get out of him when he's reading is hums and furrowed brows and subconciously mouthing the poem to himself a though he was reciting it to memory for future reference.

other then that he's mainly deadpan in his expression, having acustomed himself with not ever revealing how he truly felt towards anything.

but he's not against sharing his thoughts and opinions on the written arts with you as it only provides even further insight even if you two had completely differnt viewpoints in a characters choice or the overall message of the story being told.

it becomes a tradition for you both to stay inside within his makeshift study and just read in silence, sure it might seem boring to some, but to you and Vergil you wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

it was nice for Vergil to share his love of reading with someone else, it brought a sense of comrodery, a sense that someone could understand him by the things he reads and he could understand you by the things you read.

You even compare notes if you were reading the same book, which is fun for the both of you, like a pair of absolute nerds. (Affectionate) you’d even look for books that the other might find interesting, which is sweet knowing that Vergil was actively looking for something to read for one extra person now instead of his lonesome self.

The Liberian/ bookstore owner would be excited that he has someone to share his passion of reading with, they’ve been waiting for this moment forever then minute this solemn looking man in blue walked through the door like an omen of death.

He’s flustered when confronted about it and a little defensive but deep down he’s happy too that he found someone alike him. He truly is sappy, but it’s in moments like these where his mind is elsewhere (you) from the his usual thoughts, it lifts a weight off of his chest in knowing he’s no longer alone.

Not anymore. (I need to give this man a fucking hug for fuck sake)

[hereforuconnwbb]

The Study of Us - CHAPTER 3

paige x azzi (pazzi)

au fic!

word count: 5.2k

warning: language

firstly i js wanted to say that yall NEED to check out @pazzispizookies series !! its genuinely soooo so so good and deserves all the love 🫶🏽

heres chap 3 for yall !!! i tried to follow ur guys suggestions so i hope its alr 😭 idk if its good but um yur hopefully u guys like it 🤞🏽

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

“Yo, let’s go,” Aubrey called, tugging her hoodie on as she stepped into the hallway of their dorm. “Class isn’t gonna wait for your little daydream.”

Paige looked up from her phone, blinking like she’d been caught red-handed. “I’m coming,” she said, stuffing the phone in her pocket even though she hadn’t actually been doing anything on it. Just… staring at the home screen.

Aubrey eyed her suspiciously but said nothing.

The morning was crisp as they stepped outside, the sun still low enough to cast long shadows across campus. They walked side by side, feet crunching over gravel and dead leaves, the quiet broken only by the occasional chirp of birds or the distant hum of early lectures starting.

“So,” Aubrey said casually, kicking at a small rock on the path. “You gonna tell me how yesterday went?”

Paige frowned. “Yesterday?”

Aubrey gave her a look. “Don’t play dumb. Azzi. Tutoring. Ringing any bells?”

“Oh,” Paige said quickly. “That.”

“Yes, that. You had a whole session with your little brainiac crush and didn’t text me once after. I was starting to think you died mid-equation or something.”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small grin that tugged at her lips. “It was fine.”

Aubrey laughed. “Fine? That’s the best you’ve got? C’mon, spill. You were losing your shit about it before you left. I need a play-by-play.”

Paige let out a breath, hands shoved deep in her pockets. “Okay. It actually wasn’t terrible. She’s really good at explaining stuff. Like, not just smart-smart, well she is, but actually patient. Broke things down in a way that made sense. We ran through some practice questions, and I didn’t feel like a complete idiot for once.”

Aubrey gave her a small nudge with her elbow. “Proud of you, mathlete.”

“I’m serious,” Paige said. “It was… kinda nice. I got one of the problems right without help, and she seemed genuinely impressed.”

Aubrey grinned. “You sound like you just got a gold star.”

Paige ignored the teasing. “She even said I was improving.”

“Well damn,” Aubrey said, mockingly putting a hand over her heart. “Growth.”

Paige chuckled under her breath, eyes on the path. “But yeah, it wasn’t awkward. Which I was worried about.”

“So you two talked?”

“A bit,” Paige admitted. “Nothing crazy. I asked her when she wanted to meet again for our next session and she said tomorrow works but I forgot when, so… um yeah that’s the plan.”

Aubrey smirked. “Look at you already booking the sequel.”

Paige groaned. “It’s tutoring, not a date.”

“Sure,” Aubrey said, clearly unconvinced.

Paige shook her head but didn’t argue. Not out loud, at least.

Aubrey gave her a side glance. “So… did you find out anything interesting about her? Or were y’all just buried in notebooks the whole time?”

Paige hesitated. “Actually… she told me she used to play basketball.”

That made Aubrey blink. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” Paige nodded. “Said she played in high school but stopped after losing love and motivation for the game. Didn’t go into too much detail, but she mentioned it when we took a little mental break. She gets what it’s like to balance stuff.”

“Damn. That’s kinda wild,” Aubrey said. “No wonder she seems like she’scool under pressure. Probably used to high-stakes shit.”

Paige smiled a little at that. “Yeah. It was unexpected, though. I don’t know why, but I didn’t picture her as the athlete type.”

“Well,” Aubrey said, throwing an arm loosely over Paige’s shoulder as they kept walking, “you also didn’t picture her being pretty until she was sitting three feet from you helping you solve for equations.”

Paige groaned again, louder this time. “Can we not do this right now?”

Aubrey just laughed. “Hey, I'm not even judging. I’m just saying, it’s cute. You like her brain and her face. Classic.”

“I barely know her,” Paige muttered.

“And yet you were smiling like an idiot just now thinking about her.”

Paige elbowed her. “Shut up.”

They kept walking, but Aubrey glanced over, her voice quieter. “You really do like her, huh?”

Paige didn’t answer right away. She just shrugged, eyes on the concrete.

“I dunno,” she finally said. “She’s cool. She’s smart. And she… I don’t know. She’s just different. In a good way. She’s not weird about me being on the team or whatever. Doesn’t treat me like I’m some—”

“Celebrity?”

Paige nodded. “Yeah. I had a moment with some fans yesterday and she just stood back and watched. Didn’t look annoyed or anything. Just… kinda curious.”

Aubrey raised an eyebrow. “Curious how?”

Paige’s cheeks flushed slightly. “She said I surprised her. Said I wasn’t like she expected.”

Aubrey looked smug now. “Oh? And how exactly did she expect you to be?”

“Apparently like a stuck-up diva,” Paige said dryly. “Big-time athlete energy.”

Aubrey burst out laughing. “Oh my. She thought you were gonna be one of those ‘don’t-look-me-in-the-eye’ types?”

Paige grinned reluctantly. “Something like that.”

“Well,” Aubrey said, nudging her. “At least she thinks you’re better than you look.”

“Oh well, thanks.”

“I’m just saying. Sounds like you’re making a decent impression.”

Paige exhaled slowly. “I don’t think she sees me like that, though.”

Aubrey was quiet for a moment. “How do you mean?”

“I dunno. She’s nice. And I think we’re getting along. But she’s… I don’t know. Neutral. In a good way. Like, focused. She’s not flirty or anything.”

“Well, you’ve known her what? 2 days?”

“Exactly,” Paige said. “It’s not like I’m trying to rush anything.”

Aubrey bumped her shoulder. “Still. Don’t count yourself out. You’re a catch.”

Paige gave her a look. “You’re so annoying.”

“You love me.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t wrong.

They reached the building just as the first bell rang in the distance. Paige reached for the door, then paused.

“Thanks, though,” she said. “For listening.”

Aubrey smiled. “Anytime. You better keep me posted after your next session.”

Paige opened the door and held it for her. “No promises.”

“You mean yes, then.”

“Shut up.”

They both stepped inside, laughter echoing down the hallway.

—----------------------

“I’m still waiting,” Caroline said, sliding into her seat next to Azzi with the casual confidence of someone who knew she’d get answers eventually.

Azzi blinked, startled out of her thoughts as she adjusted her hoodie sleeve and sat up straighter. “For what?”

Caroline gave her a look. “Don’t play dumb. The session. You and Paige. Yesterday. How’d it go?”

Azzi hesitated, eyes flicking toward the front of the room where the professor was still getting the slides set up. “It was fine.”

“Fine?” Caroline scoffed. “Cmon, you know I’m not accepting a dry little ‘fine’ when you were tutoring Paige Bueckers. The girl who usually ghosts help like it’s contagious? She showed up for tutoring. With you. Spill.”

Azzi smiled a little despite herself, glancing down at her open notebook, though she hadn’t written anything yet. “I mean, she showed up. On time. Sat across from me and listened.”

Caroline raised a brow. “And?”

“And she was… not what I expected.”

Caroline leaned in, grinning now. “How so?”

Azzi let out a small breath and tried to find the words. “She wasn’t super talkative. Kind of quiet, actually. But like, in a sweet way. She didn’t pretend to understand everything like I thought she would. She was just… really present. Asked questions, paid attention.”

“Hmm,” Caroline said, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that tracks.”

Azzi tilted her head. “How so?”

“That’s what I meant the other day,” Caroline said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Paige usually has this… front. All confident and cocky and loud. But around certain people, she’s different. Calmer. Like she’s letting her guard down a bit.”

Azzi blinked, thinking back. “She definitely wasn’t cocky. I mean, she joked a little at the start, but mostly she was just focused. Or, at least she tried to be.”

“Tried?” Caroline asked.

Azzi hesitated again. “There were a few moments where… I caught her staring.”

Caroline’s brows shot up. “Staring?”

“Not like—” Azzi shook her head quickly. “Not in a weird way. Just… I’d be explaining something, and I’d pause to check if she was following, and she’d already be looking at me. Kinda like she forgot she was supposed to be paying attention to the material.”

Caroline smirked. “Okayyyy.”

Azzi rolled her eyes. “It’s probably nothing. Maybe she was zoning out. People do that all the time.”

“Paige doesn’t zone out when someone’s talking to her face,” Caroline said. “Unless that person’s, you know… distracting.”

Azzi gave her a dry look. “You’re impossible.”

Caroline held up her hands. “I’m just saying. Besides, you don’t seem bothered.”

“I wasn’t,” Azzi said honestly, twirling her pen between her fingers. “It was just… surprising. She’s sweet. More than I expected.”

There was a brief pause before Caroline asked, “Did she seem nervous?”

Azzi thought about it. “A little. But I couldn’t tell if it was about the subject or just… the situation.”

Caroline grinned. “Probably both.”

Azzi smiled faintly, but her mind was already slipping back to that part when Jace had walked up near the end of their session.

“Oh,” she added suddenly. “And there was this moment Jace came by.”

Caroline groaned immediately. “Ugh. That idiot. Let me guess. Trying to ‘schedule’ another session?”

Azzi snorted. “Yeah. I tutor him too.”

Caroline rolled her eyes. “He’s the worst. If he’s not hitting on someone, he’s talking about himself.”

“Well…” Azzi shrugged. “He’s not that bad… Well, so far.”

Caroline looked at her like she was delusional. “Az, he once asked me if I thought he could ‘go pro in looks alone.’ That wasn’t a joke. Be for real.”

Azzi laughed under her breath. “Fair.”

“What happened when he came over?”

Azzi hesitated. “Paige got kind of… stiff? I don’t know. At first I thought she just didn’t like him, oh well I mean she doesn't but then when he asked about our next session, she got a little defensive.”

Caroline blinked. “Defensive how?”

“She was just short with him. Told me he’s a ‘walking ego’ and a ‘player’ and that I should be careful.”

Caroline sat back slowly, eyebrows high. “Oooooo. Ok, Miss Protective Energy.”

Azzi glanced down, thoughtful. “I don’t think she meant it to come off so strong. She apologized after, kind of awkwardly. Said it came out weird.”

“But you noticed it,” Caroline said, nudging her lightly.

“I did,” Azzi admitted. “It just caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting her to care that much.”

“She probably doesn’t even know why she cares that much yet,” Caroline murmured, like she was mostly talking to herself.

Azzi didn’t respond. She wasn’t about to overanalyze someone she’d only just started getting to know. She wasn’t crushing on Paige, and Paige hadn’t exactly been flirting—at least not directly. It was all so new and tentative. Still in that weird space between strangers and something else.

But she could admit this much to herself, Paige Bueckers was sweet. A little awkward. And maybe, just maybe, there was something about the way she looked at Azzi that didn’t feel entirely academic.

Azzi tapped her pen against her notebook and finally wrote a heading at the top of the page as the lecture began. It didn’t mean anything. Not yet.

It was just tutoring.

—----------------------

The library was warm and quiet, sunlight slicing through the tall windows and falling across the long tables. Azzi sat curled in a small booth tucked near the back, one leg folded underneath her and a textbook open in front of her, though she hadn’t read the same paragraph three times already.

Caroline plopped down across from her, chin in her hand, no book or laptop in sight.

“You don’t have to wait with me,” Azzi said, glancing up.

“Yeah, well, I’m not about to let you sit here alone while Jace ‘Mr. I Bench More Than I Read’ McCallister slides in with his axe smell and stupid smirk,” Caroline replied. “I’m providing moral support.”

Azzi laughed softly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. They sat in silence for a few seconds before Caroline perked up and leaned forward, eyes narrowing toward the open space on the other side of the library. “Hey. Look who’s here.”

Azzi followed her gaze and immediately spotted Paige—sitting at a big round table with KK, Ice, and Aubrey, all of them surrounded by a few classmates. Paige was laughing about something, one leg stretched out, gesturing wildly with her hands while she told a story. Her voice carried that familiar rasp lifting over the quiet library hum.

“Is she always like that?” Azzi asked, watching as Paige bumped shoulders with Ice and tossed her head back laughing.

“That,” Caroline said, pointing with her eyes, “is what I meant. That’s Paige in her default mode. Loud, confident, knows she’s hot shit and plays into it.”

Azzi frowned slightly, watching her. “She wasn’t like that with me.”

“Exactly,” Caroline said, voice low but knowing. “Two days ago, when you met her? She could barely make eye contact. Yesterday from what you told me? Nervous. Kinda flustered. Sat still and actually listened. That version?” She nodded toward the table “That's classic Paige.”

Azzi blinked, studying the difference. “It’s like… two different people.”

“Not two different people,” Caroline corrected. “Just two sides of her. One’s the mask. The other comes out around people who get under her skin.”

Azzi hummed quietly and looked down at her book. She didn’t know what it meant, or if it even meant anything. But it was noticeable. Paige was easy and loud over there, commanding the space. With Azzi, she’d been soft. Still funny, but careful. A little unsure.

“You think she does that around anyone else?” Azzi asked quietly.

“Nope,” Caroline said instantly. “Not like that.”

Before Azzi could respond, a sudden weight dropped next to her in the booth, and an all-too-familiar voice chimed in, entirely too close to her ear.

“Hope I didn’t keep you waiting, star student.”

Azzi nearly jumped, turning to see Jace sliding in like he owned the damn seat, pressing up against her like there weren’t several feet of empty space. His stupid, cocky smile was already in place. Worse, his arm flopped casually around the back of the booth, his hand barely brushing her shoulder.

“Geez, Jace,” Azzi muttered, inching slightly away, but there was nowhere to go.

Caroline, across the booth, didn’t even try to hide her disgust.

“Could you not?” she said flatly, eyes locking onto Jace like she was ready to start swinging. “Get your nasty ass arm off her.”

Jace blinked, grinning, clearly thinking it was a joke.

Caroline didn’t smile. “I’m not fucking around, either. You smell like a Hollister clearance bin and desperation.”

Azzi smothered a laugh behind her hand as Jace chuckled awkwardly and finally removed his arm.

“Alright, damn,” he muttered. “Didn’t know I needed permission to sit.”

“You don’t,” Caroline said, standing. “You just need manners. Something you clearly skipped in whatever athlete orientation you fumbled through.”

She grabbed her water bottle and gave Azzi a look. “Text me when you’re done. Don’t let him breathe on you too long. Might lower your IQ.”

“Thanks for the support,” Azzi said with a small smile as Caroline walked off.

Jace looked after her and scoffed. “What’s her problem?”

Azzi turned back to her notebook and flipped to a fresh page. “You, mostly.”

He laughed again like he wasn’t offended, leaning back as he stretched his legs under the table. “You ready to work?”

Azzi didn’t respond, instead just clicked her pen and looked at him with a tired expression.

“Let’s just start with this bit.”

—----------------------

The session had been going for maybe 20 minutes, but it felt like an hour.

Azzi kept her eyes on her notebook, trying to focus on equations and numbers, but it was hard when Jace kept leaning in like she was whispering secrets instead of solving problems.

“I don’t get it,” he muttered, squinting at the paper in front of him. “You sure this is right? I swear you’re making this up.”

Azzi didn’t look up. “It’s literally the textbook example.”

Jace huffed. “Yeah, but you didn’t even check a calculator. You just… knew it.” He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice like it was some compliment. “Kinda hot how smart you are.”

Azzi’s grip on her pen tightened. She forced a polite smile. “It’s basic algebra.”

“Mmm,” he said, still too close. “You make it look good.”

She shifted, sliding her notebook slightly to the left to put more space between them. “Let’s move on to the next one.”

Meanwhile, across the library, Paige had just caught sight of them.

She froze mid-sentence, eyes narrowing slightly as she watched Jace lean closer again, like Azzi had said something hilarious. She didn’t even realize she’d stopped talking until Ice nudged her leg under the table.

“You good?” Ice asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, what?” Paige blinked, tearing her eyes away.

KK turned around and followed her gaze instantly. “Ugh,” she muttered. “Is that Jace over there?”

Aubrey leaned across the table. “Yeah. With Azzi.” Her voice dipped slightly. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Paige said quickly. Too quickly.

KK snorted. “He’s so gross.”

“Right?” Ice added. “Why does he talk like he’s in a bad teen romcom?”

“I’m pretty sure he actually told someone last week that he’s ‘a beast at math’ and then failed a pop quiz,” Aubrey said, rolling her eyes.

Paige tried to look unbothered, but her jaw was tight.

“Seriously though,” Aubrey said, softer now. “You look like you’re gonna launch a textbook across the room.”

Paige forced a laugh. “I’m not jealous, ok? She’s just tutoring him.”

“No one said anything about being jealous,” Aubrey replied with a sly smile. “But now that you brought it up…”

“I said I’m not,” Paige muttered, shifting in her seat.

KK leaned in, grinning. “It’s giving jealousy in denial. Just saying.”

“Guys,” Paige groaned.

“She’s tutoring him and he’s being a creep,” Ice said plainly. “I’d be annoyed too.”

“I’m not annoyed,” Paige insisted, but her eyes drifted back to the table again just in time to see Jace make some exaggerated arm stretch that “accidentally” brushed Azzi’s shoulder again.

Paige’s nostrils flared. “I hate him.”

“Ah,” KK said with a grin. “There it is.”

Meanwhile, back at Azzi’s table, the vibe had not improved.

Jace leaned back, arms spread across the booth like he was chilling in a hot tub. “So like, what do you even do for fun when you’re not crunching numbers?”

Azzi didn’t look up. “Read. Study. Watch movies.”

“You should come to one of my parties sometime,” he said, flashing a grin. “Bet you’d loosen up after a drink or two.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “I don’t drink.”

Jace chuckled like she was joking. “Cmon, you’re not that much of a nerd, are you?”

Azzi’s mouth opened slightly, ready to respond, but she was interrupted by a familiar voice approaching from behind.

“Thank god I came back.”

Caroline dropped into the booth beside Jace, her face a picture of calm disdain. “My class got canceled. But it looks like I’m just in time to keep you from spontaneously combusting from secondhand stupidity.”

Jace blinked at her. “You’re back? Damn, I was just getting into a rhythm.”

Caroline smiled sweetly. “Yeah, and that rhythm’s offbeat and annoying.”

Azzi coughed to hide her laugh.

Jace looked between them, confused but still trying. “Alright, alright, let’s get back to it. What’s this one?” He tapped a question Azzi had written down. “Why the hell are there letters in this?”

“It’s variables,” Azzi said. “You’ve done this before.”

“Yeah, but it’s like—when do you even use this in real life?”

Caroline didn’t miss a beat. “Hopefully never. Especially if you’re behind the wheel of a moving vehicle.”

He shot her a look. “You’re hilarious.”

“I know,” she smiled. “And not failing algebra.”

Azzi couldn’t help it, she snorted, finally meeting Caroline’s eyes for a second, grateful.

Jace leaned over again, and Caroline immediately pointed a pen at him like a weapon. “Back up. She’s trying to teach you, not catch your whatever axe spray fumes.”

“Geez,” Jace muttered, finally leaning away, sulking a bit.

Paige, still watching from the other side of the library, cracked a small grin as she saw Caroline push Jace’s textbook closer to him and reposition the notebook so Azzi didn’t have to keep shifting away. She didn’t even care if it looked obvious anymore. She was watching with her chin on her hand, eyes fixed on the little booth in the back like it was playing out in slow motion.

“She’s fine,” Aubrey said gently. “She’s got backup now.”

“Yeah,” Paige said, sitting up again. “I know.”

But her knee was still bouncing under the table.

And even though she kept telling herself it was just tutoring… that didn’t stop the annoying little heat crawling up her spine whenever Jace smiled at Azzi like she was some prize to win.

—----------------------

The bounce in Paige’s knee hadn’t stopped. She tried to stay chill, to tune back into whatever Ice was rambling about across the table, but her attention was magnetized to the back of the library like it had its own damn gravity. And Jace’s face? It made her want to commit minor crimes.

“I’ll be back,” she muttered suddenly, pushing back from her seat.

Aubrey looked up. “Where you going?”

“Bathroom,” Paige said, already moving.

The hallway to the restrooms wasn’t far, unfortunately for her blood pressure tt curved past the quiet study booths in the back, which meant she had to walk right by Azzi, Caroline, and Captain Walking Red Flag. She kept her gaze forward the whole way in, ignoring the flare of irritation in her chest when Jace laughed too loudly at something Azzi clearly hadn’t found funny.

Inside the bathroom, Paige splashed cold water on her face. You’re chill. You’re fine. You’re not mad. You’re not jealous. She stared at herself in the mirror and muttered, “You’re just normal. Totally normal.”

By the time she stepped out, she had composed herself or so she thought.

Caroline spotted her first. “Hey, Bueckers.”

Azzi’s head popped up, her face lighting up just a little. “Hi.”

Paige smiled—real, maybe a little shy, but real. “Hey,” she said back, eyes flicking to Azzi, then Caroline… and very pointedly skipping over Jace entirely.

That silence didn’t go unnoticed.

“Well hello to you too, Bueckers,” Jace drawled, leaning on the edge of the booth like he thought he was in a GQ shoot. “Don’t strain yourself or anything.”

Without missing a beat, Caroline deadpanned, “Shut the fuck up, Jace.”

Azzi tried, but failed to hide her smile behind her water bottle.

Paige smirked. “Didn’t even see you there,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Guess you really are forgettable.”

Jace’s grin faltered. Caroline snorted.

Paige turned slightly toward Azzi, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Uh, are we still good for our session tomorrow?”

Azzi nodded, already pulling out her planner. “Yeah, definitely.”

“What time works for you? I’m not too sure if we worked on one yesterday.” Paige asked, and if her voice cracked the tiniest bit, she hoped no one noticed. “I’ve got practice in the afternoon, so I’ll be wiped by like, 3.”

Azzi smiled thoughtfully, pen tapping her page. “Want to do it early in the evening? Cause I know you have a game the following day. So like, 7?”

“Yeah,” Paige nodded quickly. “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

Azzi hesitated a second, then added, “If you’re okay with it… we could do it at my dorm this time? Cause you know… It'll be too late for the library.”

“Sure,” Paige said, a little too fast. Then she caught herself and coughed lightly. “I mean, yeah. That sounds chill.”

Jace perked up again. “Damn, why didn’t I get the dorm invite? Could’ve made it a fun time.”

Caroline and Paige without even glancing at each other both said at the exact same time

“Because no one wants to catch secondhand brain rot.”

There was a pause.

And then they both cracked.

Paige wheezed. Caroline slapped the table and leaned back laughing. They reached over and dapped each other up like it was the easiest alley-oop in the world.

Azzi looked between them, eyes wide with amusement, and then glanced at Caroline who was now giving her that look. The one she gave earlier, the one that screamed: See what I meant? She’s different around you.

Azzi raised an eyebrow slightly, and Paige, still chuckling, looked back and forth between them.

“What?” she asked, a little breathless.

“Nothing,” Caroline said, drawing out the word with a grin.

Azzi just shrugged innocently. “Nothing,” she echoed, but her lips twitched.

Paige squinted. “You guys are pre’ weird.”

Before either of them could respond, Jace scoffed from the corner. “Yo, Bueckers, you done with your stand-up set or…?”

Paige didn’t even blink.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot you were still here. You blend in so well with all the other mistakes.”

Caroline howled.

Even Azzi had to press her lips together to keep from laughing out loud.

Jace blinked, clearly flustered now. “Damn, you got jokes, huh?”

Paige gave him a deadpan look. “Nah, I’ve got patience. And it’s running out.”

Caroline slammed her hand on the table, cackling now. “She’s killing you, bro. Stop talking before she ends your bloodline.”

“Yall wild,” Jace muttered, clearly retreating now.

Paige just smirked. “See you tomorrow, Azzi,” she said, her voice softening a little as she glanced at her.

Azzi nodded, still half-smiling. “See you.”

“Bye, Caroline,” Paige added, already walking away.

Caroline shot finger guns in response. “Keep roasting creeps, Bueckers.”

And as Paige made her way back around the corner, the bounce in her step had returned but this time, it wasn’t frustration keeping her moving.

It was satisfaction. And maybe just a tiny bit of butterflies.

As soon as Paige rounded the corner and slid back into her seat, Aubrey’s eyebrows shot up. She had her arms crossed, chin resting on her fist like she was watching a live episode of Library Drama: Bueckers Edition.

“So…” Aubrey dragged the word out, voice way too casual. “What the hell was that?”

Paige blinked, all fake innocence. “What was what?”

“That little stand-up routine you just dropped back there,” Aubrey said, eyes narrowing. “The way you and Caroline just mind-melded into synchronized murder mode? You were cackling, bro. Like, full-body shaking. I thought someone was dying.”

KK looked up from her phone across the table. “Wait, what happened?”

“Yeah,” Ice chimed in, scooting her chair in closer. “You disappeared and came back grinning like the Grinch. Spill it.”

Paige tried to play it cool, slouching in her chair. “Nothing. Jace was just being Jace.”

“Ohhhh,” Ice said knowingly, dragging out the word like she already knew where this was headed. “Was he tryna talking to her?”

Paige didn’t respond fast enough. That was all the confirmation they needed.

Aubrey leaned forward, grinning. “So he was flirting again?”

“More like… delusional,” Paige muttered, picking at a tear in the knee of her jeans. “Said some dumb shit. Caroline shut him down first. I just followed her lead.”

“Followed her lead, my ass,” KK snorted. “Caroline’s probably still wheezing. What’d you say?”

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smirk. “I told him he blends in with other mistakes.”

“OH MY GOD YOU LEGEND BUECKERS,” Ice shouted, slapping the table so hard the girl at the next table flinched so hard. “You did not!”

“I did,” Paige said proudly. “And before that? Caroline and I said the exact same insult at the exact same time.”

KK whistled. “You tag-teamed his ass.”

“Azzi looked like she was trying not to laugh,” Aubrey added with a sly glance. “Don’t think I didn’t see that.”

Paige’s expression tightened, but she played it off. “I mean, it was funny.”

Aubrey smirked. “It was you.”

Meanwhile, back at the booth in the far corner of the library, Jace was still planted at the edge of the table like he hadn’t just gotten cooked in front of half the library. But his smile was more forced now, his swagger cracked around the edges.

Caroline glanced at Azzi, who had gone quiet, eyes locked on her notes but clearly not seeing a damn thing.

“Can we go over that thing from earlier again?” Jace asked, sliding his chair an inch closer. “The part about… um, the coefficients?”

Azzi blinked and looked up. “We covered that ten minutes ago.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t paying attention,” he said with a grin that he probably thought was charming.

Caroline groaned audibly. “You’re not supposed to admit that.”

Azzi forced a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay… so you take the coefficient—”

Jace wasn’t listening. He was watching her mouth, leaning in just a little too close.

Caroline noticed immediately. “You good, Az?”

Azzi didn’t answer right away. She tried to refocus, pointing at a formula. “So here, this number is distributed—”

“Damn, you must tutor a lot of people,” Jace interrupted, his voice lower now. “Bet you’ve got a line.”

Azzi blinked. “What?”

“Like, I get it,” he said, smirking. “Smart, cute, helpful. That’s a whole fantasy package.”

Azzi sat back slightly, her expression turning colder. “We’re studying. I’m tutoring you”

“I know,” Jace said, hands up like he was innocent. “I’m just saying, you’re probably breaking hearts all over campus.”

Caroline narrowed her eyes. “Seriously, dude?”

“What?” he said, like he hadn’t just turned a tutoring session into a bad pickup attempt. “I’m just being friendly.”

Azzi looked down at her notebook, then slowly closed it.

Jace blinked. “Wait, are we done?”

“Yeah,” Azzi said, her voice sharp but polite. “We’ve covered what we needed to, and you’re clearly not here to learn.”

Caroline crossed her arms with a smirk. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

Jace sat back, scoffing like he was the one being wronged. “Damn. You girls are cold.”

“No,” Azzi said, standing and sliding her bag onto her shoulder. “We’re just not here for you.”

Jace opened his mouth to say something else, but Caroline stood up too, cutting him off just by sheer vibe.

“You should probably go,” she said. “Before you embarrass yourself any harder.”

Jace muttered something under his breath, but grabbed his bag and stalked off, ego limping behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Azzi exhaled like she’d been holding it in.

“Fucking finally,” Caroline muttered. “I was 2 seconds away from pouring my water on him.”

Azzi laughed—tired, but real. “He just wouldn’t let up.”

“I know,” Caroline said, glancing toward the front of the table where Paige was at with Aubrey, KK and Ice. “And someone was definitely not chill about it.”

Azzi followed her gaze and frowned a little. “Paige?”

“Mhmmmm,” Caroline hummed. “You didn’t notice?”

Azzi looked away, lips pursed, thinking. “She was funny.”

“She’s always funny,” Caroline said. “But not always like that.”

Azzi didn’t say anything to that. She just zipped up her bag and shook her head, her expression unreadable.

Caroline didn’t push. But as they walked out of the library together, she tucked a knowing smirk into her back pocket for later.

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

[story-box]

STATIC ON THE LINE

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader | Eddie Munson x Y/N

Summary: Eddie ghosted you to “set you free”—so you came home to ruin his pity party and remind him you're nobody's damsel.

—

You should have set his trailer on fire.

Okay, maybe not literally — arson was still technically illegal — but metaphorically?

Oh, absolutely.

Because if Eddie Munson thought he could ghost you like some coward in a metal band who suddenly decided he was too emotionally fragile to answer a letter, then he clearly forgot who he was dating.

You had written twenty-one letters. Twenty-one. Plus, three postcards you thought were charming and a freaking cassette mix you made with actual effort and very questionable transitions. ("Careless Whisper" into Black Sabbath — sue you, you were emotional.)

And what did you get in return?

Silence.

Avoidance.

The occasional 'your letter was received' from Wayne when you called the Munson trailer, followed by an uncomfortable pause like the old man wanted to say more but wouldn’t.

You had tried to be patient. Really. You reminded yourself that Eddie wasn’t exactly known for healthy coping mechanisms.

But there’s only so much you can take before you start imagining exactly how hard youmee going to throw that shoebox full of unsent letters at his stupid, beautiful, stubborn head.

Because here’s the thing: You didn’t fall in love with him because he had perfect grades or a five-year plan. You fell in love with the idiot who played Dio songs like they were sacred texts, who gave voices to dungeon monsters and talked about fate like it was something he could fight.

And now? Now he was playing tragic martyr like it was some noble sacrifice.

You stared at your phone, hanging up on the wall. Again. Like it might magically spring to life with his voice on the other end.

It didn’t.

Instead, you whispered to no one, "If you think you're protecting me, Eddie Munson, you're dumber than that time you tried to climb my dorm window and got stuck halfway like a stray cat."

Maybe it was time to come home for a weekend.

And maybe it was time to make some noise…

. . .

The trailer looks smaller than you remember. Maybe it’s the winter light — flat and grey, like everything’s been dulled down without you here. Or maybe it’s just Eddie.

Because he’s standing in the doorway, sleep-creased and shoeless, hair a mess, looking like regret and cheap weed had a baby and named it "avoidant behavior."

You cross your arms and lean against your car, giving him the kind of look that says: Go ahead. Explain yourself. I’ll wait. Probably won’t believe you, but I’ll wait.

He blinks like he thinks you’re a hallucination. Which, fair. You did show up unannounced, in your Friday jeans and a pissed-off aura that could probably kill a small god.

“Holy shit,” he says.

“That’s all you’ve got?” you ask. “‘Holy shit’? After ignoring me for three months?”

He rubs the back of his neck. Classic. You’d almost missed that stupid nervous tic.

Almost.

“I thought you were… I don’t know. Gone.”

You laugh — sharp, not sweet. “Yeah. That tends to happen when someone stops answering your letters, calls, telepathic pleas—should I go on?”

His mouth opens like he wants to defend himself. Then closes again, like he realizes there is no defense. And honestly? Good. Let him stew. Let him feel the way your chest has felt every time you checked the mailbox and found nothing but silence.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he finally mutters.

You throw your hands up. “Try anything. ‘Hey, I suck at feelings, give me a minute’? ‘Sorry I’m an emotionally constipated disaster’? Even a postcard that just says ‘still alive’ would’ve been better than radio silence.”

He flinches. You almost feel bad.

Almost.

But then he says, voice low and stupidly sincere, “I thought if I let you go, you’d move on. Meet someone better. Someone who doesn’t live in a trailer and get held back and—”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you groan. “You don’t get to martyr yourself and act like you’re doing me a favor. I’m not some romcom character who blossoms without the sad boy weighing her down. I chose you, you idiot.”

He stares at you, like maybe he didn’t quite believe it until you said it out loud. Like he’s terrified hope might be real.

You step closer. Close enough that he can see the tear line in your eyeliner and the months of unsent anger burning just behind your eyes.

“If you ever ghost me again,” you whisper, “I will break into your room, steal your favorite guitar, and replace all your good vinyls with Barry Manilow."

He chokes on a laugh.

You almost kiss him right then. Almost. But he has to earn that.

So instead, you say, “Now let me in before I freeze out here. We’re not done talking.”

[botanicsoul]

You’re My Favorite Flower

Pro-Hero! Bakugou Katsuki x (Fem) Reader

——

~ I’ve been feeling a little down about myself lately, picking myself apart more than I should. But somewhere along the way, I remembered—I’m beautiful just the way I am. That little moment of clarity inspired this fic. It’s soft, a little raw, and full of love (with a sprinkle of smut, tehehe). I hope it reminds you of your own worth too, in some small way. Please be kind to yourself—because in someone else’s eyes, you’re literally everything. Enjoy, lovelies.

❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❊ ✿ ❀ ❀ ❊ ✿

The house is quiet when you get home. Bakugou’s still at work, off saving the world while you can’t even save yourself from a few damn tweets.

You didn’t go looking for it. It found you—as it always does. Some fan post talking about Bakugou Katsuki, Pro Hero Dynamight. Gorgeous. Powerful. Untouchable.

And then… the comments.

——

@MtLadyMami25 :

“He’s so hot omg I wish he’d date Mirko or Mt. Lady or someone badass like him.”

@BakubroFan648:

“His girlfriend is cute but I feel like he needs someone stronger, y’know?”

@quirky_shins11 :

“No offense but she’s not on his level.”

——

You lock your phone, eyes burning.

It isn’t the first time. But tonight, it hits different. Maybe because you’ve already been feeling off. Maybe because he’s been working so late. Maybe because some small part of you believes it. You find yourself in the mirror again. Picking. Prodding. Judging.

Why is your stomach softer than it should be?

Have your thighs always had that many stretch marks?

Why don’t you look like those pro heroines with their sculpted bodies and perfect confidence?

What do you even bring to the table?

You whisper it to your reflection like it’s a sin, “Why do you love me?”

You don’t realize he’s home until you hear the door click shut. His heavy boots pause. Then you hear him call, “Baby? You home?”

Your breath catches. You stare at yourself like you’ve just been caught doing something wrong. You try your best to wipe the tears away but your swollen face and blood shot eyes gave you away.

He finds you in the bathroom, standing like a ghost in front of the mirror. His brow furrows instantly. “Hey… what’s goin’ on?” His voice is low, careful, and it just breaks you more.

You bite your lip, look away. “Nothing just had something in my eye, i’ve been trying to pick it out” he looked at you as if you had two heads.“Bullshit,” he says before you can finish, stepping toward you—but you keep going. “I Just… I saw some stuff online. People talking. Saying I’m not enough for you. That I’m not strong. Not good enough. You belong with Mt.Lady or maybe even someone like Mirko” you finally admit.

there was a pause he just looked at you. Your voice is barely more than a whisper when you finally ask, “Why do you love me?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just stares at you—like that question hurt more than anything ever could.

“Katsuki,” you whisper again, tears clinging to your lashes, “Why me? People say you could be with anyone. Someone stronger. Someone who fits with you. Someone like—”

“Don’t,” he growls, stepping forward like he’s physically chasing away your words. “Don’t say that shit ever again.”

You lower your gaze, ashamed.

“Look at me.” His voice softens, and he tilts your chin up. “You think I give a fuck what people tweet about me? About us?”

You shrug. “I just see it all the time… people saying I’m sweet but not enough. That you deserve someone on your level. A hero. A fighter. Not just… me.”

He exhales hard, jaw clenching.

“Baby,” he says lowly, stepping closer, “I’d blow up fucking cities for you.”

Your breath catches.

“Swear to god,” he continues. “If it meant you’d never feel like this again—if I could burn every thought like that outta your pretty head—I’d do it. No hesitation.”

You blink fast, heart thudding.

“You wanna know why I love you?”

You nod, silently.

“Because you’re real. You’re soft in a world that’s sharp. You’re fuckin’ light in all the bullshit I deal with. You make me feel like I’m more than just some weapon. You heal me, every damn day, just by being here.” He pulls you against him, hands firm on your waist. “I don’t need a hero. I need you.”

He leans in then, lips pressing to your temple, cheek, jaw—slow and reverent.

And then, without a word, he starts to undress you. His hands don’t rush. They linger. Like he’s learning your body all over again. Shirt first—lifted over your head, his eyes not leaving yours. Then he slips your pants down, kneeling as he does. His fingers trace every dip, every curve, like they’re sacred. When you’re left in just your bra and panties, he pulls you toward the mirror.

You tense. “Suki…”

“Shh,” he murmurs, standing behind you, one hand sliding under your bra to cup your breast while the other rests low on your stomach. “Look.”

You do—hesitant, but you do. His chin rests on your shoulder. “This stomach,” he says, squeezing the soft flesh gently. “Mine. I love it.”

His hand trails lower, grabbing your hip. “These hips. Fuckin’ perfect. You know what they feel like under me? How they move when you ride me? Drives me insane.”

He slides your bra up and off, both hands coming up to cup your tits.

“These,” he whispers, kissing your neck. “So fuckin’ soft. So pretty. And I love the way they bounce when you’re under me. You ever see how wild you make me, baby?”

Your breath hitches. His hands are worshiping you like he’s trying to rewrite how you see yourself. He lifts your chin slightly, making you meet your own gaze again. “And this face,” he says softly. “I could spend the rest of my life memorizing it. The way your lips pout when you’re sleepy. The way your nose crinkles when you laugh. The way your eyes hold all that kindness that I don’t have.” You feel tears welling again—but they’re different now. Warmer. Full.

“You,” he says, brushing his lips against your ear, “are the only thing that makes this fucked up life feel like home.” Then his hand slides down—slow, deliberate. Across your stomach. Beneath your panties. You gasp as his fingers find you, already wet for him.

“And one of the things they’ll never know…” he says with a smirk, voice gravelly as he nips at your neck, “is how amazing your pussy feels.” You whimper as he strokes you, watching your reflection as your knees go weak against him.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “Look how pretty you are like this. All fuckin’ mine.” He guides your legs apart just slightly more, still behind you, fingers teasing your entrance.

“You think Mt. Lady could make me feel like this?” he murmurs darkly. “Think Mirko could pull sounds outta me like you do?”

His hand works you slow, lazy—like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Let me show you,” he whispers against your skin, “exactly what I see when I look at you.”

And he does.

Over and over.

Until there’s not a single cruel thought left in your head—just the feeling of him, the weight of his love, and the echo of his voice promising…

“You’re everything to me.”

[lavandulawrites]

Astralis Desires

Chapter 3: Through His Eyes

Various HSR men x reader

It was rather fun writing the different POV’S. I can’t wait to share more chapters with y’all!

Chapter 1, chapter 2

Synopsis: Two Yanderes have already fallen head over heels for you.

Masterlist

Warnings: yandere, written in the POV of Dan Heng and Welt, Dan Heng is a simp

Word count: 1939

Dan Heng’s POV

Dan Heng had never been in love. He had found actresses, models and women he had met through his travels pretty, but he had never developed feelings for any of them. The idea of love was foreign and something he only allowed himself to think about when he dreamt about a faceless woman at night. He had been lonely since he crawled out of his egg and realised the world still hadn’t forgiven his past self misdeeds. When he had joined the Express Crew, he had gotten friends for the first time, but his loneliness still lingered like a dark shadow. It had him awake at night and it followed him whenever he went.

Dan Heng had read a fair amount of romance novels and mangas in secret and he was filled with longing. He wanted someone special in his life. Someone he could protect and love. He needed someone who could feel the void in his heart.

When he saw you almost gotten torn apart from a beast, he had flung his spear as hard as he could through the creature’s head. His frozen heart had finally started beating and the world colours finally became visible. A unfamiliar feeling filled his chest and overflowed his senses. His icy blue eyes followed your every movement and it felt as if he was going to die if he looked away from you. You were so beautiful it hurt.

“Are you alright?!” March rushed to your side and gave you a quick look over. He swore to himself that if you were hurt, if even so much as a tiny hair on your head had gotten damaged, he would hunt down every single one of the Antimatter Legion’s pets and kill them with his bare hands.

You nodded. “I’m fine” you forced a grateful smile “Thank you for saving me.”

Your voice was the most beautiful voice he had ever heard and he found himself wanting more.

“Oh, don’t thank me! It’s Dan Heng you should thank!” she gestured towards the black haired man. Dan Heng could only stare at you has his heart hammered against his ribs.

“Thank you, Dan Heng. I really owe you one” you said with earnest. God, he was going to die. Your lips uttering his name was the greatest blessing he had ever experienced and he found himself puzzled by his uncharacteristic behaviour.

He nodded with a short movement. “You’re welcome. I only did my job” he tried his best to give a nonchalant response, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“We should get moving!” March waved her hand at you to follow.

You gave them your name and Dan Heng couldn’t help but repeat your name in a mantra. Your name sounded like that of a goddess. One the way to safety, you encountered Arlan. He had gotten injured while fighting the monsters. Every time the boy talked to you, an icy anger formed inside Dan Heng and ran through his veins like poison. His draconic instinct to protect was loud as it tried to take over his mind.

The group of five stopped by a a control room in order to check the surveillance footage. As Dan Heng got past the firewall, he noticed a digital trace of an unwelcome guest. Someone had hacked the system an hour before. The researchers really should upgrade their security. It must have been the Stellaron Hunter that went by the name Silverwolf, he thought to himself. Worry crept over him at the thought of that guy. Surely he wouldn’t be at the space station? It wasn’t his style after all…

“Oh, I forgot to ask you [Name]. Did you see anything suspicious before we came and rescued you?” March asked you. He stilled his movements so he could hear your response.

“I did actually. I met a tall woman with dark pink hair. She was telling me to not get in her way.”

Kafka. Shit. “Sounds like a Stellaron Hunter” Dan Heng said as he resumed his typing.

“A Stellaron Hunter…” your voice was filled with concern.

“Sounds like you saw Kafka. So did Caelus” March replied.

The chair Dan Heng sat on suddenly scraped against the floor in a fast motion. His eyes found yours in a blink of an eye and he wanted to drown in them. “She didn’t do anything to you, right? She didn’t hurt you?” his voice was low as he tried suppress his anger. If the Hunter had harmed you, he would personally make sure she was arrested as soon as possible and punished for her sins.

You instantly shook your head. “No, she didn’t. She left as fast as she came.”

He could feel March eyes on him. He turned to her and was met with a small smirk. He abruptly turned back to the computer.

The sound of feet drumming against the makeshift bridge filled his ears as he ran towards the lift. A cloud of dark mist clouded his vision and a group of monsters appeared through it. The biggest of them reared like a horse and sat its sight in you. You froze beside Dan Heng as the monster lunged for you. Dan Heng’s body was quicker than his mind as he pulled you back by your collar, causing you to lose your footing. His spear blocked the arrow that was sent your way and saved you from your doom. His arms wrapped around you as they prevented your fall. They pulled you closer like a hungry boa and he allowed his nose to be filled with your lovely scent.

“Are you alright?” Dan Heng whispered against your ear. His usually stoic voice was breathy and brimming with a thick mixture of emotions. He could feel your heart beating against his arms. How adorable.

You nodded, your ears bright red. “Yeah, thank you” you whispered back.

He gazed at you for a second, one that felt as it stretched out for eternity, before he snapped back to the monsters.

A mechanical bussing shot down as a drone with razor-like propellers slashed through the beasts. Green blood splattered across the bridge and onto your face. In a blink of an eye he had dragged you across the bridge and into the elevator. As everyone mad e it inside you clutched your stomach. Your skin was pale and your forehead sweaty.

Caelus looked at you with a concerned expression. “Are you good? You look pal-“

He got interrupted by the sound of you spilling out all your lunch on the floor. You mumbled a “I’m so sorry” as you wiped your mouth. Dan Heng wanted to reach out and stroke your back in a comforting manner, but decided against it.

“Never mind hehe…” Caelus scratched neck awkwardly.

March rushed to your side and handed you a mint. “Thanks” you muttered weakly.

The group met up with Himeko and they introduced you and Caelus to her. Dan Heng could tell that she had taken a liking to you and the fact made him happy. As he and the others talked with Asta, he made sure to keep you as close to him as possible. Hopefully you had realised how dangerous the world could be. The good thing was that he could protect you from it, if you let him.

March and Caelus left to talk to the researchers while Dan Zheng and you remained. Himeko and Asta were busy talking to evacuate other’s and left you and him to your own devices you had taken a seat at a Ben h and were twiddling your thumbs as you waited. The action was cute. He had been staring at you for multiple minutes, it he did not care.

“So… Have you guys had any similar experiences?” you broke the silence.

His eyes lit up for a millisecond, before he composed himself. “Yes. Though every journey is different” his word may be few, but his voice was soft.

You nodded “I can imagine. Must be both exciting and scary.”

“Perhaps, though you get used to it” he shrugged. He was silent for a few seconds before he spoke up. “Are you alright? No injuries or something? Even if they’re small you should tell me” a slash of worry distorted his features. If everything were to happen to you he did not know what he might do.

“Im alright” you shook your head. As if you had noticed his raised brow, you added: “No really. I’m fine.”

He left it at that and adverted his gaze to the rest of the space station. Relief flooded his senses and he let out a breath he didn’t know he had held. He decided to ask Himeko if you could join the Express over text. It was obvious to everyone that you weren’t happy working at the space station. If you became a Crew member, he wove able to keep a close eye on you. No harm would ever fall upon you.

Welt Yang’s POV

Welt had lived a long life. He had a lot of different experiences in various areas. He had had a few girlfriends throughout the years and he had loved them. Though he had craved a different type of love, a love that was deep er and more raw. That was not something they could provide to him. He knew love was something that would happen when one least expected it, but he couldn’t help but fantasise about it like a teenager would. It was almost embarrassing how he would longingly look at couples when he was out and about.

When he first saw you hiding behind a vending machine as he neutralised Caelus’s power, a warm fuzzy feeling bloomed in his chest and he knew then and there that he had to make you his.

Welt was standing beside the Express when you and Dan Heng found him. His face lot up at the sight of you and he smiled. “I’m Welt Yang. It’s nice to meet you” he reached out his hand.

“I’m [Name]. It’s nice to met you as well” you shook his hand. Your hand was soft and small compared to his big hand. He didn’t want to let go, but it would be rude to hold your hand any longer.

“I have spoken with Himeko and she invited you to stay on the Express. If you want to, naturally” Dan Heng had asked Himeko if you could stay on the Express, but that was a detail you didn’t need to know. He glanced at Dan Heng as the black haired man nodded in gratitude.

Your eyes widened at his words. “Oh wow.. I hadn’t expected that. Well- I would need to resign from my job and all that. And I would need to bring my stuff- if that’s okay of course” you rambled.

Welt bit his tongue in order to silence his laugh. Your rambling was rather cute. “We can help you” he suggested.

“I would appreciate that” you smiled and his heart skipped a beat. You were like a burning star that brightened up his life.

“Alright, then. I would like to join the Express” you said determined after a short while of silence.

Welt looked at Dan Heng as the two men seemed to come to a silent understanding. From a Yandere to another, it was easy for them to see th effect you had on them. Welt had never imagined to share a Darling, but he didn’t mind sharing you with Dan Heng. Two Yanderes made the chance of any harm happening to you smaller.

[the-raindeer-king]

content warning: canon typical violence, injury, brief mention of reader's childhood, reader's callsign is Duckie. Enjoy my lovelies!

--- Simon Riley x Reader---

Things had gone sideways, as they tended to in Ghost's life. So fucking sideways, as the task force currently hunkered down in a shed, rain pounding outside. He fiddled with his gloves, as Price chewed out Gaz. Soap and you were huddled together in the opposite corner, quietly plotting something together. You let out a quiet laugh, slapping Soap's shoulder.

With a small smile, you left Soap, shuffling across the shack to wedge yourself into Ghost's side.

"What are you doing, Duckie?" He huffed, as you tapped your fingers against his hand.

"It's cold, and MacTavish said you're a furnace," you teased, glancing over at Soap, who was not discreetly taking pictures. The two of you made faces at each other for a moment, before you leaned back against Ghost.

"You know Morse code?" He asked, and the tapping stopped.

"Yeah, sorry. When Dad had outbursts, my brother and I would communicate through Morse code," you explained. 

"Never mentioned siblings."

You shrugged, picking at a loose string on your gloves. "No one asked. Figured we just didn't talk about our pasts, an unspoken rule."

"Bullshit. Soap talks about his mum all the time."

And you laughed, nodding. Ghost would kill to hear it for the rest of forever. If he could bottle it, to ride that high whenever he needed, he would. But life didn't grant him those luxuries. This high was short lived, as she began tapping again.

"Not much to tell," you sighed. "Asshole Dad. Mum wasn't around. I practically raised him." 

"Bet he's proud of ya."

You glanced up at him, frowning. Did he misinterpret your message? Or was he just being kind? Either way, your chance to ask vanished, as Price gathered their attention.

"I think I've got a decent enough plan," he sighed.

***

Well, if things had gone sideways earlier, then shit had officially hit the fan, as they hunkered down from enemy fire, Soap rigging something.

"Soap!" You shouted over the comms.

"Ten seconds," he snapped back.

"Now Soap!" Price snapped.

The next ten seconds happened slowly. You and Gaz covered Soap, as he launched the bomb. Your sharp inhale was the last thing over comms, before the building collapsed under the explosion, enemy fire ceasing. Ghost and Price stepped out from their cover, heading towards the rubble, until Soap shouted, "We need a medic!"

Both looked towards him, both letting out an expletive. You were leaning against Soap, hands pressed against your side, blood seeping out anyway. Turning pale, you joked, "Hope it wasn't important." And then you slumped over, nearly falling, if Soap hadn't caught you.

***

You woke up in the hospital, hushed voices outside. Your vision blurred for a moment, before the ceiling came into focus, the faint buzzing of lights following.Groaning softly, you sat up in the bed, ignoring the pain in your side. The world spun for a long moment, and you closed your eyes, hand against your head.

Blinking slowly, you took in your surroundings. Nothing noticeable special about the room, just a standard hospital room. If anything, the voices outside were much more important, but you couldn't make out what they were saying. With a soft sigh, you laid back down. Maybe you’d have your full bearings by the time someone stepped inside.

The door opened, closed with a soft click, and someone sighed. You sat up again, to find Ghost, staring down at you. You stare at each other for a moment, before Ghost breaks the silence.

"You're awake."

"Seems so."

And then he was gone, rushing out to get a nurse, the rest of the team lingering outside as you spoke to a doctor.

"You got lucky," he explained, flipping through your charts. "The bullet got lodged amongst your ribs, and missed anything important. Unfortunately, it did break three of your ribs. We've already removed the bullet,  but there is a chance for scar tissue. As for your ribs…" 

You drowned him out, thankful to be alive. Luckily, he was done quickly, especially under the gaze of Ghost. He informed you that you’d be staying for a few more days, to ensure nothing went wrong, before scrambling out of the room. The 141 quickly took his place inside it.

"Don't be giving Price any more heart attacks," Gaz teased, earning a slap upside the head. 

You laughed, wincing slightly from the pain that shoots through your side. "I don't plan on it." But you were smiling at them, glad everyone made it back safely. "Was… was someone yelling on our way back?" you asked, frowning. You really didn't remember much, but there were bits and pieces during your brief moments of consciousness on the way back.

Soap and Gaz glanced at Ghost, who remained silent. Price stepped forward, laying a hand on the bed. "There was a lot going on. Don't worry about it," he replied. He glanced at his watch, letting out a low whistle. "We have to go."

The other made quick goodbyes, glad you were okay. Ghost lingered in the door for a moment. He sighed, before whispering, voice hoarse with emotion, "Need anything?"

 "Maybe some company," you teased, smiling despite the situation. "Oh! And some chocolate! Preferably dark."

"Copy." And then he was gone.

By the time he returned, Soap in tow, one of the medics, a nice lady named Alice, was chatting with you.  "I don't know how you put up with them all the time! Garrick can be absolutely insufferable sometimes!" She laughed, waving her hand in the air.

"They're not bad all the time," you replied, smiling softly. You fiddled with the blanket, before softly adding, "They're good men."

Alice huffed, shaking her head. "Insufferable."

Ghost knocked on the door, altering them to the company. Alice's cheeks turned pink, and Soap pushed past Ghost , into the room, announcing, "We bought treats!" He was like a golden retriever, the way he bounded to the bed, eager to win over your affection.

Alice took this as an opportunity to leave, only pausing to whisper to Ghost , "Keep an eye on them, please?"

He just nodded, and she was gone, waving over her shoulder that Garrick wanted to have dinner together. Ghost turned back into the room, stepping inside so the door would close. The other two had already opened several bags of candy, goofing around as they played with it. Ghost huffed, adoration in his eyes as he watched them.

The time passed fairly quickly between the three of them, conversation flowing easily. Until Soap announced he had to leave, had some work to get done before the day was over. And then it was just Ghost and you. 

"So," he looked down at her with a sly smile, never one to miss an opportunity to tease you, "Johnny says you got a crush on someone."

"Oh, it's nothing," you laughed, waving a hand in the air. "Besides, he'll never like me back."

"Oh? Well, then he's a bloody blighter," Ghost stated, crossing his arms.

"Hey, don't talk about yourself like that." It was out before you could stop yourself. Before you could realize what those words confessed.

They stared at each other for a moment, tension palpable. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you opened your mouth to apologize, to take the words back and beg for forgiveness. But the words never made it. Not when Ghost perched himself on the edge of the bed, tugging his mask down to press his mouth to yours. His hands cradled your face, thumb rubbing against your cheek as he pulled away. 

"Oh."

He laughed, a soft rumble through the room. And this time, you were the one wishing you could bottle the sound up.

[mistytanzanite]

Would love to see hcs about dating Toby in an AU where he’s a university student or something!

Dating Toby in college!

p.s. this is a MDNI account! So if any minors are reading this, please don't! :(

small warning for a sentence with a mention of sex

I’m gonna yap a bit about the backstory before I get into dating him.

So with a college AU, it would most likely be some sort of AU where he never killed his dad. Instead, Toby ran away the second he graduated high school, desperate to get away from Denver.

Since he’s from Colorado, he probably goes as far as possible from it, probably going northeast. Let’s say Massachusetts, since it’s high in education ranking. I can see him majoring in social work, so he can get a job with CPS, wanting to help kids get out of abusive homes.

He works part time as well to pay off student loans, although he doesn’t get many hours since his boss is a dick who sees his tics as a hindrance. 

You meet Toby in class one day, two loners who need a partner for a project. Toby is distant at first, having trust issues due to bullying. You’re patient with him, not saying anything bad about his tics, and just focus on the project.

That gives him a good first impression of you, since a lot of people are annoyed, disgusted, or make fun of him for his tourettes. But you don’t give a shit, and he feels…normal.

The two of you exchange numbers and at first, only talk about the project as you both work on it. Then, near the end of it, you make a casual comment about a movie you wanted to see soon. Toby says he also wanted to see it, so you surprise him by buying two tickets, giving him one.

The movie is nice. He’s nervous, never having hung out with someone before. Afterward, the two of you talk about it. He sees you imitating some of the fight scenes, and laughs.

The two of you form a friendship after that. You whisper to each other in class. You eat outside together. Slowly, he opens up to you about his past. You share your own struggles. 

He develops a crush on you sometime in the second semester of knowing you. He gets highly embarrassed, beating himself up for falling for you when you had only been friendly to him. He starts to avoid you, guilty for having a crush. 

“Hey Toby, what’s-”

 “SORRYGOTTAGOBYE”

 “Wait, what?”

It isn’t until you damn near corner him after a month of this that he goes beet red and stumbles over his words that he likes you. He keeps apologizing as you walk up to him, and then interrupt him with a kiss to the cheek.

His brain stops functioning after that. You sigh, and tell him it was obvious, but you wanted to be nice and let him figure his own shit out.

He buries his face in his hands, so ashamed of himself. 

You start dating after that. Toby is shy at first, with you being his first romantic partner. He doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, at all. He’s trying his best lol.

He has a big ol’ smile on his face when you hold his hand as you both walk to class. It makes the rest of his day feel more bearable. Got a little pep in his step.

Despite his shyness, he tries to initiate. He initiates the first kiss. Asking you on an actual date. Having sex in his dorm while his roommate is at a party. 

Toby is the kind of boyfriend that doubles as your best friend. Gets invested in whatever drama you tell him about. Likes to talk shit about annoying classmates with you. 

He jots down his plans for the future with you, deciding on where to live with you, where you both can get jobs with your degrees, what kind of house you’ll be getting, what the wedding would be like…he’s a sap lol.

All in all, college! Toby would be a really good boyfriend, you just need to be patient with him.

[sakusaswifee]

“𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 NSFW HCS + TS!SEMI EITA

Warnings: NSFW content, 18+ only, semi eita x reader, punk rock semi, dominant!semi, choking, handcuffs, tongue piercing kink, possessiveness, dirty talk, teasing, tattoos, jewelry kink, reader implied as AFAB, spicy headcanons, guitarist!semi, musician!semi

Minors DNI, or you will get blocked.

Loony’s art inspired this🤍

𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…finishing a late night gig, his fingers still tingling from the strings, hair damp with sweat, that voice rough and low from singing his heart out and the only thing on his mind is you. You, in the crowd, wearing his band shirt with no bra underneath, looking up at him like he hung the stars.

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…grabbing you by the wrist the moment the curtain closes, pulling you into the green room, his voice husky in your ear, “Been thinkin’ about you all night.” He smells like leather, cologne and a little sin..and the way he’s breathing, you know he means it.

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…playing a private set just for you, sitting on the edge of his bed, lazy strums filling the room while his eyes stay locked on you. He’s not just playing, he’s undressing you with every lyric. He hums the words, and you can feel them on your skin like a promise.

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…being rough when he finally loses control. He’s not the jealous type..but when he sees someone else flirting with you after a show? Oh he gets possessive. Not loud. Not obvious. Just that grip on your thigh at dinner that gets a little tighter, his fingers trailing just under your skirt where no one else can see.

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…using his guitarist fingers to tease you slowly like he’s playing a goddamn song with your body. He memorizes your rhythm the way he memorizes chords. Touching you where you need him, but never quite enough. He loves the build up, loves the whimpers. Loves watching you squirm until you’re begging.

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…being quietly filthy. The kind of guy who whispers the dirtiest shit in your ear with a straight face. “You gonna behave for me tonight? Or should I keep you up until you can’t walk straight tomorrow?”

He says it like he’s asking what you want for dinner, and it makes your thighs clench.

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…who loves taking his time. Slow kisses. Slow thrusts. Long eye contact. He’s not in a rush, because he savors you. He loves watching you fall apart under him, your hands tangled in his hair, breathy moans caught in your throat as he murmurs, “Just like that. That’s my girl.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…letting you straddle his lap while he plays only to set the guitar aside mid-song, hands sliding up under your shirt, mouth dragging lazy kisses down your neck as he says, “Forget the song. I’d rather play you instead.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…wearing handcuffs as accessories, but smirking at you like “they can be functional too, princess.”

He teases you by spinning the cuffs around his fingers while sitting on the edge of a couch, legs spread wide, tongue piercing glinting as he licks his lips and mutters,

“You wanna try ‘em on, or should I?”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…walking off stage with his chest heaving, vest open, skin glistening, tattoos peeking out from under his collarbone, trailing down his sides. He spots you in the crowd, and his eyes darken. He doesn’t even need to say anything..you already know he’s gonna ruin you in the dressing room.

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…biting down on his lip ring while staring at you across the room like he’s imagining how it’d feel brushing against your thighs.

He’d say something low and filthy like,

“Y’ever been kissed by someone with metal in their mouth, baby? Wanna find out how good it feels somewhere else?”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…with a tongue piercing that doesn’t just look hot, it works magic. He eats you out like a full course meal, watching you squirm under him with that smug, infuriatingly sexy grin because he knows exactly how to use it.

“God, you’re better than every high I’ve ever chased.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…with chunky silver rings, dragging them slowly down your sides, then slipping them between your thighs. The cold metal mixed with his warm touch? Unfair.

He chuckles darkly when your breath hitches and murmurs,

“Sensitive, huh? Let’s play with that.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…being into choking, but not rough, just firm enough to make your head spin and your body melt. One hand gripping your throat, the other buried in your hair as he whispers into your ear,

“You trust me, right? Then let go, baby..I’ve got you.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…absolutely obsessed with control. He’ll tie your hands with his guitar strap, pin you down with just one hand on your waist, edge you until you’re crying and begging for it. And he’ll smile sweetly, cruelly, lovingly.

“You look so pretty when you’re desperate for me.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…letting you sit in his lap during studio sessions, his hands playing with your thighs while he pretends to focus on editing tracks.

He leans in close, lips brushing your ear:

“If you stay still, I’ll make you cum before the song ends.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…biting your collarbone just to leave his mark. He doesn’t care if it’s visible the next day, he wants people to know.

“You’re mine. Say it. Scream it if you have to.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 Imagine Semi Eita..

…who might be cool on stage, aloof and untouchable..but in private? He’s obsessed.

Needy.

Possessive.

Pulling you into his lap when he gets home, tongue piercing tracing your skin as he murmurs,

“No one gets this side of me but you. Remember that.”

𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪 𓆩༒︎𓆪

[angelsdean]

Also, since I'm thinking about it now I shall share my headcanon that nobody asked for of how Dean and Lisa originally meet. This is how it goes down every time in my mind.

Dean in 3x02 tells Sam:

DEAN Remember that road trip I took, uh... gosh, about eight years ago now? You were in Orlando with Dad wrapping up that banshee thing. SAM Yeah. Yeah, the five states, five-day – DEAN (laughs) Yeah. Well, kind of. Although I spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden's loft.

Dean was about 19 at the time....same age he was when he discovered his panty kink with Rhonda.

Personally I think him and Rhonda happened earlier (spring / summer 1998) while he meets Lisa on the later end of his 19th year (like early january 1999).

And Dean tells Sam here that he was on a road trip while John and Sam were wrapping up a hunt. But Sam is like, what, 15? Dean would've been better backup, no? Definitely more experienced. But for some reason John just...let him go on a road trip.....hmmm.

See TO ME, I just can't help but think of what Dean says in 14x12:

DEAN I know things got dicey… you know, with dad… the way he was. And I just… I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should’ve. I mean, I had my own stuff, you know. In order to keep the peace, it probably looked like I took his side quite a bit. Sometimes when I was… when I was away, you know it wasn’t ‘cause I just ran out, right? Dad would… he would send me away when I really pissed him off. I think you knew that.

SO, I think when Dean meets Lisa it's actually during one of these stints where John sends Dean away. So Dean is essentially homeless, pissed off, and aimless. "Road-tripping" until John cools off and decides Dean can re-join them. This is when Dean meets Lisa.

And sure, it's a fun little fling. But this is Dean we're talking about. He remembers her. He is fond of her, enough to seek her out again all these years later. And it's not just because the sex was so good. To me, I think she was a touch-stone and a good memory in the midst of a pretty shit time. She showed him affection. She basically put a roof over his head ("I spent most of my time in Lisa Braeden's loft.") And Dean-y baby forms attachments fast and loves hard. And while EYE personally do not think he was IN LOVE with Lisa at age 19, not the way he falls for Cassie during Stanford Era, I think he was surely fond of her. Had good memories of her.

As for the sex..."best night of her life" "crazy, semi-illegal" sex....WELL. That's where the "this is post-Rhonda" part comes in.

[and sorry to my staunch gay Dean truthers, I love you and support your beliefs, but this is gonna be very bisexual]

Now I don't think Dean was ever prudish about sex. And if you know me you know I don't buy into "sexually repressed" Dean fanon / headcanons. I think he's been aware of his sexuality since he was a young teen. I think he's always been a "I'll try anything once" kind of guy. But I think, before Rhonda, he wasn't really having very adventurous or kinky sex with women. I think he was still keeping his bisexuality on the down-low with women and playing up a specific Role in these relationships. But then, Rhonda shows him another way and shatters his preconceived notions of what sex with women is like. Rhonda (my bi queen<3) shows Dean the wonderful world of m/f QUEER SEX. And Dean is like "oh. Oh, I can be the submissive one. I can be penetrated, if I want."

Anyways, so, Lisa. Miss "Guess I was a little wild back then." Yeah, she definitely pegged him. Like, best-sex-of-her-life? YEAH GIRL. She finally got to peg a guy!

And Dean's whole "she was a yoga teacher. It was the bendiest weekend of my life" thing? YEAH that's because our girl Lisa helped him bend into alllllll sorts of new positions. Yoga TEACHER. Bendiest weekend of HIS life. She was turning him into a pretzel and drilling his holes.

Anyways. This is my truth.

[leupagus]

I've read the top 20 fic by bookmarks of The Pitt on AO3

and they range from "not my bag" to "delightful" (though I've noticed some worrying trends I'll discuss elsewhere), even though I still don't have any horse in any particular race wrt ships. However, the King/Langdon fic I desperately want (and, so far as I know, no one has yet written) is asexual!Langdon/townbicycle!King.

Hear my vision:

Langdon gets through in-patient rehab; his most frequent visitor is his wife (who eventually becomes his ex-wife, but they still care about each other and he's—not relieved, but not so worried, since he feels like he's been letting her down ever since they got married), his second most frequent visitor is Robby (who just stares at him from across the table with his arms crossed, mirror image to Frank), and his third most frequent visitor is Santos (who always arrives with a stack of medical journals and shit and they always erupt in a screaming argument within five minutes of her arrival until she storms out, which is sometimes five hours later and sometimes five minutes later). Mel does not visit him at all and honestly he's glad, he hopes he didn't fuck her up somehow from their one day together.

So he comes back after some time off, and it's hugely awkward and embarrassing and he and Robby are still not really speaking to each other, per se, and everyone else is a little jumpy around him too. Mel is the only one who seems genuinely delighted to see him and strangely, they still get along really well — as if he's been here this whole time, getting to know her and work alongside her. They become a duo in much the same way Santos and Ellis are a duo, or Robby and Collins, or Abbott and Mohan. Langdon doesn't really think anything of it. Some doctors work best as a team. Maybe he'd just been waiting to find his teammate.

Only then he starts hearing these weird — not even rumors, it's not gossipy, it's more matter-of-fact than that. A new nurse arrives, working the swing shift midnight to noon. She's got bright blonde hair and a southern drawl and Shen starts sighing wistfully whenever he thinks nobody notices. Frank thinks she's pretty good at her job: a little stingy on restocking gauze but otherwise solid, and she has some incredibly good stories about being a bartender at an honest-to-god roadhouse when she was younger. Frank likes her just fine until one day he passes the nurse's station to find Perlah and Princess and Santos talking in — one of the languages they speak and he doesn't. Portuguese? All he catches are the new nurse's name, and Mel's.

"What's this about Ashliegh and Mel?" he asks, although judging by their eyebrows he sounds more demanding. But suddenly Santos grins this very evil grin that reminds him why he doesn't actually like her, at all, not even the slightest bit of begrudging affection whatsoever.

"They uh... you know," she says, waggling her eyebrows a couple times. From over her shoulder, Frank can see Mel darting into an alcove to talk to their ingrown toenail guy again. "Last night Ashliegh got the King-sized, if you know what I mean?"

"What," Frank says, squinting at her.

"You know," Princess says significantly, at the exact same time that Perlah says, "Oh my god, you don't know. Have you not gotten the King-sized yet?"

"What," Frank repeats.

"Oh," Santos says, equal parts gleeful and conspiratory, "bro, you are gonna love it. You know, if she ever picks you. Why hasn't she picked you yet?" she adds, cocking her head thoughtfully. "I'd've figured you'd be like, right up there."

"Hey, it took her a while to get around to Dr. Mentah, remember? And she thinks he's great," Perlah says. "Maybe she's saving him for a special occasion."

"What."

Which is how Frank finds out that Mel has slept with pretty much every available member of the day shift and swing shifts, three-quarters of the night shift, and a third of the rest of the hospital (though weirdly only a quarter of Neuro. Nobody's figured out why). Which accounts for why Abbott's always got that weird little twinkle in his eye when he works with her, or why Dana slapped her on the ass that one time with a patient's file, or why — apparently — Walsh had that limp a few weeks ago.

It takes him a literal week to figure out how to ask about it, in the most indirect possible way he can think of, which of course leads to Mel turning to him with a puzzled frown and say, "Oh! Did you — I didn't think you'd be interested, but I'm free tonight, if you'd like."

[youwillfindilluminating]

screaming, crying, more detailed kastle-scene reactions under the cut:

“Aftershave and a haircut? That all for me?” AHHHHH! Frank cleaned himself up for Karen! Karen CALLED HIM and he promised her he’d save Matt. But of course he doesn’t tell Matt it was all for Karen.

Matt and Frank’s bickering is always going to be a highlight for me. Although I am getting tired of Matt refusing to kill people. The part where they were arguing and Matt yells at Frank to shut up because he hears a grenade was very amusing to me. More of that in S2 please!

Karen offering to check Frank’s wounds!!! Let her help you, you asshole!!! It’s all I’ve ever wanted!!! And of course he doesn’t let her and then tries to smooth things over with coffee. And they stare awkwardly longingly at each other while Matt sits in the corner and listens to their HEARTBEATS. Somebody sedate me. For a minute here, Frank looks like an awkward teenage boy and it kills me. (Sidenote: I KNEW Frank was looking at Karen in that production still from this scene. He has “I’m looking at Karen” eyes.)

I feel like the reason he didn’t let her check his wounds is because it would have been TOO MUCH FOR HIM to have her that close and worrying about him and touching him and-

Frank doesn’t go with them to investigate, which… I realize he can’t be in every scene, but I’d love it if he never let Karen out of his sight again. He’s so hot and cold here. Trying to push her away but he CAN’T DO IT.

“I don’t believe you don’t care,” Karen says as Matt leaves them alone even though he can still hear everything they’re saying.

“You asked me for a favor. I did it,” Frank says with his sad eyes. Because he would do ANYTHING. FOR. HER.

“Stay safe.” (KILL MEEEEEE!!!)

And of course he ends up protecting her later anyway. OF COURSE.

Matt asking Karen if she talks to Frank a lot. “It sounds like you’re jealous.” !!!!

MATT HEARD THEIR HEARTBEATS!!! And Karen asks if he heard Frank’s too!!!!!!! I will scream about this until the day I die.

Frank goes out to protect them and of course he gets captured and beaten to shit! :(

I fucking love the effect of the city lights being turned on at the end of Karen and Matt’s talk at the port. So cool!

The shot of Frank in a cage immediately followed by the shot of Karen at Josie’s with her big blue eyes! Radiohead was a nice choice here, I think.

Frank using his charms to get the guard to shake his hand. Ohhh these guards will never stop fanboying him. It's delicious to see him use that against them. I want Frank to break out, but I also dream of a moment where Matt and Karen bust him out and we get a beautiful Kastle hurt/comfort moment.

A couple small gripes: The soundtrack could use work. They’re really overusing “our lady of soundtrack sorrow” during the emotional scenes and it’s taking me out of it a bit.

Karen needs a lip. Like I realize she’s dressed down, but put her in a tinted chapstick or something!

Another sidenote: Turns out she wasn’t wearing Frank’s clothes OR a bulletproof vest. It was just the line of her shirt/hair in the trailer.

In short: I’ll be a Kastle shipper til the day I die, but there is room in my heart for some Frank/Karen/Matt OT3.

[jayktoralldaylong]

FINALLY! I CAN TALK ABOUT THIS CHAPTER!! 🤩

"Why did the gay couple get a kiss before the lesbians?"

Who told you that Will and Montressor are a gay couple? 💀💀 (Cause some fans just be reaching). We still dancing circles around whatever Montressor's sexuality might be. That man might not be straight but there's no confirmation that even if he is bisexual, that he's into men or Will in that particular way.

But wait! Can you imagine the angst potential if Montressor turns out to be straight and he just got kissed, smooched the lips, by the first friend he ever made.

The FIRST person he learned to care about more than he cared about himself. The first human being that he learnt to love kisses him.... And it becomes a reflection of all the women that Monty has slept with in the past. Relationships that happened because they wanted something from him and he had something to gain by giving it.

Will is dying and he steals a kiss, and Monty can’t even hate him for it because WILL IS DYING!!! If Monty is indeed 100% heterosexual, just think of how awkward the situation is for Monty. He can’t push Will away, he’s clinging to the remnants of what he lost, but also allowing himself to be used if it keeps Will’s heart beating for just a few seconds longer.

Will very rarely asks Monty to do anything for him.....and kissing the man he loves if his only friend's one request and Monty has to sit there wondering....if this is yet another contract for something he did not necessarily want to give. Something he cannot deny, because to deny would be to completely kill the one thing he learnt to love.

And even crazier is the fact that Will no longer remembers any of it!! 💀💀💀 So now, Monty has so much psychological trauma to unpack and he’s going to have to do that shit, ALONE. (We’re either about to see an arc where Monty gets significantly better, or a 100% worse. Cause bro just watched Will die like three times, let down his walls for his friend’s sake, just to find that it was all for nothing).

[ajthecrayon]

Marauders Grocery Store head canons

THE ONE WHERE THEY ALL WORK AT A GROCERY STORE

there might be more after this-

I work at a grocery store and I can't help but assign my coworkers their variants of the marauders fandom while I rot watching my self check-out area. So drum roll please as I assign them each their departments. Is this based on my actual coworkers? yes. yes it is. Some things are not obviously true to form because who actually knows that much about their coworkers lives.

First! Our management (womp womp)

Remus Lupin - have mercy on this man's soul. He hates it here. Every time he catches James' eye on the busiest day of the week (Sunday) he pretends to choke himself out. He loves it. But hates it. He can't pay for his university right now so he's stuck doing this until he saves up enough (it's been three years, the economy is crashing please help) The only person getting him through this job is his boyfriend (Sirius) who works in the floral department of the grocer alongside his brother Regulus. James and Remus were coworkers before Remus got promoted

Lily Evans - sweetest woman alive, but if you piss her off enough she will scold you and you will be so terrified of her for the rest of your days working there. Mostly in charge of making sure the baggers are bagging groceries correctly, and that carts aren't staying stuck outside. She's the management that has been there the longest. Since she started the job at sixteen and is still there at 24. She loves it. She's a single mom who has split custody of her son Harry (with James it's all very healthy.)

Peter Pettigrew - He's permanently stressed out. Please pray for this man. He's a full time student, and a part time worker who pulls full time hours. He's a pretty good manager, but feels awkward asking anyone to do anything for him. He says please over and over. Like yeah it's 90000°F outside but I really need you outside on carts :( sorry please I'm sorry! (Marlene beefs with him for this.)

Our Lovely Cashiers:

James Potter - ooh this man piss me off!! He's the sweetest with customers, but sasses his coworkers like no tomorrow. He hates being bored so he makes it a point to tease the hell out of everyone around him. He's never on register though, usually he's in the self check out. And even then he's a nightmare. He's 100% work your wage kind of guy though. Calls everyone a silly goose. Remus and James play flirt with each other and it's sort of terrifying to witness sometimes. People really like him and gravitate towards him easily. He wants to be a manager, but hes busy studying so he can't pull the hours needed. He has bought his coworkers their break snacks.

Barty Crouch Jr - Surprisingly amazing customer service, he does crush bread unapologetically though. The way he treats his coworkers is a different story! If anything they don't exist and only talks to them if he needs something from them (unless you're Evan) the customers matter of course because who is he if not a great show man and that's all customer service is- playing things up a little. He may be winning at customer service but it's an act. He does not give a single shit about your issue. If he decides something is out of his pay grade he is blowing you off and getting his manager/a bagger to help him.

Our baggers, only bagging groceries and pushing carts

Evan Rosier - He was hired first for maintenance, hated it, saw the bathroom after ice cream sample day and nearly blew the store up with bombs. He very quickly moved departments. He honestly doesn't even work his wage. This man does below the bare minimum, he looks forward every day when he clocks in to collapsing on the couch with Barty and getting high out of his mind. He spent three hours one time outside and ended up getting sunburnt. He learned very quickly that black people CAN get sunburnt. He has so many tattoos and piercings. He's the best with the little kids though. He loves talking to them when they roll in with their race-car carts. Gives them stickers and talks to them like they're adults.

Marlene McKinnon - OH MY GOD she is always pumped or ready to let a car run her over in the parking lot- there is no in between with this girl. She's extremely meticulous about what groceries go where and will judge you if you suck at bagging groceries. She's an absolute TANK outside. Pushing rows in like no one's business. Everyone has a crush on her. She has strong customer service and customers love her. Purposefully will choose lanes where she's bagging.

A part two will be coming with the floral department. (Sirius, Regulus, Dorcas, Mary and Pandora)