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lilstarkeydream · 3 days ago

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Hidden Flames- Chapter 3

Summary: Y/N, a Kook who prefers the company of her Pogue friends, falls for Rafe Cameron. Despite their growing feelings, they maintain a facade due to their conflicting social circles and personal insecurities. Y/N is best friends with Sarah, Rafe's sister, which fuels Rafe's hidden affection. He despises how Y/N hangs out with the Pogues, believing she has more potential, while Y/N can't stand Rafe's for fights and stuck up nature. After a dramatic confrontation, they confess their feelings but must keep their relationship secret, with only Sarah in the know.

Warnings: 18+ only! Fluff, Angst, Smut (p in v), Adult language,

Authors note: Hey guys! Ugh I'm so sorry I made this like crazy long again and that it has been SO long betwen chapters. I've already sort of started working on Chapter 4 so hopefully I'll have it done soon. Anyways enjoy and feel free to message me if you have any requests xoxo.

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The warm sand felt soft against your feet, the gentle waves lapping at the shore. The sun was settling, casting a golden glow over everything. You were laughing, you don’t know what from, but Rafe was beside you, smiling, his eyes filled with softness. Rafe's arms wrapped tightly around you, holding you close as he spun you in slow circles, laughter mingling with the sound of the ocean. He pulled you closed, gently kissing your lips and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You were dressed in white, almost like ghosts in a beautiful, ethereal world.

Rafe leaned in, his forehead resting against yours, “I want you forever Y/N. Even when I’m gone I’ll still be with you.”

Before you could respond, a loud powerful jarring sound shattered the peaceful scene. The scene faded away and turned black and you groaned and opened your eyes. You padded your bed around you searching for your phone trying to turn off your god-awful 7:30 am alarm. Early mornings are going to be the death of me, you thought.

You instinctively pulled your cover back over your head, dreading the day ahead. Dress shopping for midsummer’s… perfect. With only a week and a half to go, you already dreaded the thought of the superficial conversations that were bound to happen.

You try to hold onto the sweet memories of your dream but it is suddenly ruined when your mom yells down the hall.

“Y/N time to get up! We are already behind schedule, we are leaving in an hour for the boutique”

You groaned, slamming your face into the pillow and then pulling yourself up to start preparing for the day. You can already imagine your mom with her cup of coffee in her hand criticizing every dress you pull off the rack. Your parents were very particular when it came to a lot of things but the main thing was presentation; they hated it when you dressed in “pogue” attire. Hence why dress shopping is so important to your mom, it validates to her that there is still hope for you. You rolled your eyes at the thought of her voice in your head but smiled, knowing it was easier to just go along with her sometimes.

The boutique was glowing with varying colors, patterns, and dress types; it was overwhelming. From rack to rack, your mother picked out various dresses and styles for you, ushering you to the changing room to try on every single one.

You spent what felt like hours trying on dresses, in and out of the changing rooms, accumulating a small pile of maybes. Finally, as you were about to call it a day, your mom came over with a navy satin, backless dress with a bow detail.

“Now I'm not a fan of the backless back but I do think the bow in the back ties it all together,” she said as you slipped it on. But when you turned to the mirror, the fit was perfect. It was the one. Scenarios played in your head on how Rafe would react seeing you in this dress, so tight fitting and revealing, you know it would make him ogle.

“I agree Mom, this has to be it,” you said smiling running your hands down the dress.

Your mom was about to respond when you felt goosebumps begin to rise on the back of your neck like someone was watching you.

You quickly glanced around in the mirror at the surrounding store as your eyes locked with Chris’s.

Oh god, you got to be kidding me, you thought. Out of all places, this is where you see him? He must be with his mom and sister or something.

A twinge of nostalgia immediately began to coarse through you. You quickly looked away, pretending not to notice him, but of course, he noticed you—and began walking over, giving you his typical polite smile.

“Oh my gosh is that Christopher Phillips?!” Your mom whipped around, beaming with recognition. She practically jogged over to greet him, her eyes lighting up with that motherly approval. She quickly pulled him into a hug. “Christopher! How are you? Look at you, still as handsome as always!”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, your mom failed to acknowledge boundaries sometimes.

“Hello Mrs. Chastain, it is great to see you, you look fantastic!” he said as he pulled away, quickly glancing over at you as well.

“Oh please Christopher, call me Linda. You're still such a charmer. Anyway, Y/N is just trying on some dresses for Midsummer but I’ll let you old love birds catch up, I’ll just be right over there” She pointed to a random corner, and knowing her we would still be eye-shot. As I’ve said before… she is a huge fan of Chris.

As she eagerly waltzed away, Chris visibly got a bit nervous shoving his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat.

“Hey Y/N, uh, I wasn’t expecting to run into you, you look great,” he said gesturing to your dress, his voice carrying a hint of the awkwardness that hung over you guys even after the breakup.

“Yeah, Chris, good to see you too,” you said, keeping a neutral smile. The idea of catching up as old friends was tempting, but you could tell by his eyes that lingering feelings were still there, and you didn’t want to stir them up.

“So, are you going to Midsummer?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

“Yeah, I am. You?”

“Same,” he replied, nodding with a tight smile.

Silence settled between you. You were about to excuse yourself when he cleared his throat. “Are you… seeing anyone new?” he asked, his voice a bit too casual.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you forced a neutral expression. “Nope. You?” As you spoke, a flicker of guilt stirred. Rafe was still in the back of your mind, his presence lingering, tugging at the corners of your thoughts. The memory of his touch was enough to make you blush, but you couldn’t say any of that—not to Chris, and not to anyone else.

He hesitated, noticing your sudden change in demeanor, then shook his head. “Nope.” He looked away noticing your mom eagerly waiting with prying eyes, “Anyway, it was good to see you, take care. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

“Yeah. See you around,” you said, relieved as he walked away.

God that was so awkward

You stepped out of the boutique with your mom, your newly purchased dress slung over one arm. The bright afternoon sun made you squint, and you took a deep breath, savoring the fresh air after what felt like hours spent in stuffy fitting rooms.

"Well," your mom said, eyeing you with satisfaction, "now that we’ve got that settled, we can get on to the important things, like accessorizing.” She gave a little smile, seeming more pleased with you than usual.

You smiled, barely listening as your mind drifted back to your encounter with Chris. Why here, of all places?

Just then, a familiar voice called out across the street. "Y/N! Hey, Y/N!"

You turned to see JJ striding over, his hands shoved casually in his pockets, but his expression lighting up when he saw you. As he reached you, his gaze darted between you and your mom, a flicker of mischief in his eyes as he took in your shopping bags.

“Oh,” your mom said, straightening, “this must be one of your…friends.” Her voice held that edge she always had when she saw you talking to Pogues. She gave him a quick, tight smile. "Well, Y/N, I'll just grab a coffee down the street. You two…catch up. I'll be waiting in the car." Her heels clicked against the pavement as she walked away, looking back just once before disappearing into the café.

Once she was gone, JJ grinned. “Nice to see I’m still charming the Kooks, as always.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed. “You have that effect.”

“So, what’s all this?” He pointed to the bags with a teasing smirk. “Getting ready for Midsummer? Gotta say, I never pictured you as the ‘princess of Kooklandia’ type.”

“Oh, very funny,” you said, nudging him. “Yes, it’s for Midsummers. My mom practically forced me to come out today.”

“Lucky me, running into you, then,” he said, shoving his hands back in his pockets and giving you an easy smile. “So, how’s it going? You look…like you’ve been through it.”

You shrugged, laughing a little, but your voice softened. “I actually just ran into Chris.”

JJ’s face fell, the teasing look replaced by concern. “Wait, Chris? Like…Chris Chris?”

“Yeah,” you replied, the awkwardness of it making you cringe all over again. “It was…strange. He was trying to be nice, but I don’t know. It just reminded me of how I’ve changed, you know?”

JJ nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as if weighing his words. “Y/N, listen. Be careful with those Kook guys—no offense, but they can be a lot. And Chris…he’s bound to have feelings still, so just, you know…keep an eye out.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the intensity of his reaction. “JJ, he’s harmless. We were just talking.”

“Yeah, maybe,” JJ muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, “but I don’t know. You’ve seemed kinda distant lately. Like…you’re around, but not. Got me worried, is all.”

Just as you were about to respond, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You glanced down, your pulse picking up slightly as Rafe’s name flashed across the screen.

Been thinking about you. What are you up to? The message was simple but meant everything, and you couldn’t stop the faint smile that crept onto your face as you typed back a quick reply, your heart beating just a little faster.

JJ’s voice snapped you out of the moment. “Uh-oh,” he said, smirking as he watched your expression shift. “That look’s usually reserved for the extra-rich Kooks.”

You quickly pocketed your phone, fighting to keep your expression neutral. “What look?”

He rolled his eyes. “Come on, Y/N. I may not be a Kook, but I know you well enough to see when something’s got you all…happy like that.”

You let out a laugh, shrugging it off. “It’s nothing. Just someone I know.”

JJ gave you a curious look, his playful smirk softening as he studied you. “Well, whoever it is, I hope they’re good enough for you. Just don’t go getting lost in Kooklandia too long. Us Pogues kinda need you”

The genuine concern in his eyes made your heart twist slightly, and you nodded, touched by his words. “I won’t, JJ. Promise.”

A flash of relief crossed his face, and he returned your smile with a lopsided grin, nudging you playfully. “Alright, princess, get out of here before your mom thinks I’m corrupting you or something.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you said goodbye, his words lingering in your mind as you headed to the car.

During dress shopping earlier, your phone had buzzed with a text from Sarah, asking if you wanted to hang out. She went on about an argument she’d had with Topper, making it sound both dramatic and all too familiar. You’d texted back, agreeing to come over once shopping was done, already bracing yourself for whatever rant awaited you.

Your mom is currently driving to the Cameron's residence as she droned on about Midsummer's etiquette and the importance of making a good impression.

“Don’t worry, honey, I’ll pick you up in a few hours. We can get lunch and talk more about Midsummers,” she said as she unlocked the car. But her phone buzzed just as she opened the door. She glanced at it, frowning.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me…” She sighed, her voice turning business-like. “They need me at the hospital honey. I’m so sorry, would you be able to grab a ride home.”

“Yeah, of course. Don’t worry, Mom, I understand. I’ll ask Sarah if she can drive me,” you replied, secretly grateful for the change of plans. You’d had enough of Midsummer's talk to last a lifetime.

She gave you a sympathetic smile, and as you shut the passenger door, you watched her drive away, feeling relieved. But that feeling quickly gave way to nerves as you noticed Rafe’s truck parked in front of the house. Of course, he’d be here,you thought, trying to keep your pulse steady.

Once your mom was out of sight, you made your way up the Cameron's all-too-familiar staircase. You hadn’t been here since that night—when you’d drunkenly found yourself in Rafe’s room. The memories flickered back, and you thought you caught a faint hint of his cologne lingering in the air. You passed by his door, stealing a glance, but it was empty, the bed neatly made. Maybe he’s out with Topper or Kelce by the pool, you mused, trying to shake the thrill of knowing he was nearby.

Reaching Sarah’s room, you barely had time to knock before she flung open the door, grabbing your arm and pulling you onto the bed beside her. “Finally!” she exclaimed, tossing her phone onto the bed as she settled in next to you. “You have no idea how badly I needed to see you today.”

“Really?” you laughed, stretching out beside her. “What’s going on?”

“Ugh, where do I even start?” She let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back against her pillows. “The guys are outside right now, so I can’t be too loud, but Topper and I had the stupidest argument last night. He gets jealous of everything—it’s unreal. Sometimes I think he’s the insecure one, not me! He saw me talking with John B near the docks and now he’s convinced I’m sneaking around behind his back!”

Your eyebrows shot up. “John B?” That was news to you. John B and Sarah had never shown much interest in each other before—or at least, not that you’d noticed.

Sarah nodded, biting her lip with a mischievous smile. “Yeah, he and I talked a bit last week, and honestly, I kind of liked it. He’s so…different from Topper, you know? But I swear, I wasn’t doing anything sketchy. Topper just freaked out and, ugh, it’s such a mess.”

You couldn’t help but imagine how the Pogues would react if they knew about Sarah’s budding friendship with John B. It was complicated enough with your friendship with them, let alone…well, your situation with Rafe. The Pogues wouldn’t exactly be thrilled to know you were sneaking around with the one person they despised most.

“Wow,” you said, trying to sound casual. “I just can’t picture John B with a Kook like…well, like us, honestly.”

Sarah laughed, rolling her eyes. “I know, right? It’s complicated.”

“Speaking of complicated…” you began, realizing you hadn’t yet told her about the day’s chaos. “I ran into Chris today.”

Her eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face. “Chris? No way. How did that go?”

You gave her a tight smile. “Awkward, mostly. He was…polite, I guess, but I could tell there was something else. I don’t think he’s over it. He even asked if I was seeing anyone new.”

Sarah groaned, shaking her head. “Classic Chris. He’s just trying to find an excuse to come back into your life.”

“Maybe,” you admitted, “but I had to lie and say no. And that made it even worse because…”

You paused, hesitating. Sarah propped herself up on her elbow, eyes narrowing. “Because what?”

You took a deep breath, feeling your pulse quicken. “Because I snuck out with Rafe last night.”

Sarah’s eyes went wide, and a slow smile spread across her face. “Oh my god, what? Go on!”

“He came to my house, tapping on my window like a total maniac.” You laughed at the memory, but your voice softened as you remembered what had happened next. “We ended up going for ice cream and walking on the pier. He…he told me he wanted to try with me, you know? Like, actually give it a shot. And I said yes, Sarah. I told him I liked him.”

Sarah’s expression shifted, a mix of excitement and caution. “Wow…okay, so this is getting serious, huh?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, feeling a flutter of nervousness at her words. “It feels…different.”

Sarah sighed, looking at you with a gentle but wary smile. “I get it. Rafe can surprise you sometimes. But be careful, Y/N. He’s my brother, and I love him, but…he can be unpredictable.”

“I know,” you replied, grateful for her understanding. “But right now, I just…I don’t know. I feel happy.”

Just then, a familiar voice drifted through the open window from the backyard, and your stomach did a flip. Rafe’s unmistakable laugh mixed with Topper and Kelce’s voices, the sound sending a thrill through you.

Sarah noticed, smirking. “He’s right out there, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Ugh, I know. But we’re trying to keep things secret, remember?”

“Sure, sure,” she teased, winking.

You both laughed, and the conversation drifted to other things. But as you glanced out the window, you saw Rafe and the guys heading inside, his attention focused on his phone. Sarah’s voice faded into the background as you heard him walk through the house and up the stairs, heart thudding as you wondered if he might notice you.

Excusing yourself with a quick “I got to go to the bathroom,” you slipped out of Sarah’s room, making your way quietly down the hall. Just as you rounded the corner, you nearly collided with Rafe, who looked up in surprise, his lips curving into that familiar smirk.

“Whoa, well this is a surprise, what are you doing around here, pretty girl?” he murmured, voice low and teasing. “Sneaking into my house just to see me?”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “I’m best friends with your sister, dumbass. You’re the one who’s supposed to be downstairs with your friends.”

Rafe leaned casually against the wall, his hair still damp and tousled from the pool, water droplets catching on his tan skin, his arms toned and relaxed. He flashed you that familiar, mischievous grin. “Kelce and Topper just headed out, so I guess that leaves us. Think you can handle it?”

Your heart skipped a beat as he closed the space between you, the playful glint in his eyes making it clear he knew exactly what he was doing.

You opened your mouth to answer, but his hand was already reaching for yours, pulling you into his room. The familiar thrill of being this close, in a place where you could be caught any second by Ward or Rose, made your pulse race.

“You know,” he murmured sitting on his bed pulling you between his legs, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

“Yeah?” You tried to keep your voice steady running your hand down his chest, even as your heart raced. “What about me?”

He chuckled softly, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Everything. The way you laugh, the way you look at me…” He paused, leaning in just enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. “The way you make it really hard to keep my hands off you.”

You swallowed, feeling the warmth spread through you. “Who said you have to?”

A slow grin spread across his face leaning in to capture a kiss, and for a moment, everything else faded away—the house, Sarah, the risks of being caught. It was just the two of you.

But then, footsteps echoed from the stairwell, and you both sprang apart, glancing nervously down the hall. Rafe gave you a quick wink, his eyes dancing with mischief.

Rose’s voice called down the hall, clear and firm. “Sarah! Rafe! Y/N! Dinner’s ready!”

Rafe pulled back, his lips just inches from yours, his playful expression turning to one of frustration. “Of course,” he muttered, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Before you could respond, Sarah’s footsteps sounded from the other side of the hall, followed by a quick knock on the bathroom door down the hall. “Hey Y/N dinner’s ready! Rafe, dinners ready. Come on, let’s go!”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, smirking as he glanced at you. Then, with his best impression of an annoyed brother, he called out, “I’ll be down in a few, Sarah!”

Satisfied, Sarah’s footsteps faded down the stairs, and in an instant, Rafe’s arms pulled you back toward him. His lips found yours again, the urgency even stronger now. The thrill of secrecy rushed through you as his fingers tangled in your hair, his touch somehow gentle and desperate at the same time.

“Alright, you really need to go now,” he whispered between kisses, his voice thick with reluctance.

“You don’t make it easy,” you murmured, smiling against his lips. Finally, you pulled back, running a hand through your hair as you gathered yourself, fixing your clothes.

Taking a deep breath, you slipped out of his room, glancing over your shoulder one last time to see him watching you with that signature smirk.

When you entered the dining room, the Cameron family was gathered around the table, and Rose flashed you a warm smile. Sarah was already seated, chatting with Wheezie, who was recounting some story with animated hand gestures. You slipped into the seat between Sarah and Rose, offering a polite smile to Ward as he nodded in greeting.

“Glad you could join us, Y/N,” Ward said, his tone warm. “We don’t get to see you around here often enough.”

“Thank you for having me, Mr. Cameron,” you replied, feeling a bit more at ease as Rafe entered the room and took the seat across from you. His expression was casual, but the glint of mischief in his eyes was unmistakable. As he sat down, his foot tapped against your thigh under the table, and your cheeks flushed.

Dinner began with light conversation, Rose asking about school, and Ward making polite inquiries about your family. The food was excellent, and for a while, you settled into the cozy atmosphere, almost able to ignore Rafe’s occasional gaze across the table and the flutter it stirred in you.

“So, Y/N,” Rose began, setting down her fork and smiling at you with that piercing, Kook-perfect smile. “I’m assuming you’ll be going to Midsummers? Did you end up finding a dress?”

“Oh, uh, yes! Just today, actually,” you replied, hoping to sound casual despite your racing heart.

She nodded approvingly. “Wonderful! Midsummers is such an important event, especially for making connections. Do you have a date lined up yet?”

The question caught you off guard, and you took a quick sip of water, trying to keep calm. “Not yet,” you replied, glancing down at your plate to avoid looking at Rafe.

“Oh, what about that young man you were seeing before?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “What was his name? Chris, right?

The mention of his name made both you and Sarah choke on your drinks at the same time. Sarah quickly recovered, covering her laughter with a cough, but your cheeks burned as you struggled to respond.

“Oh, uh, we’re…we’re not together anymore,” you managed, giving Rose a small, tight smile. You could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, though you didn’t dare look up.

Rose’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “Oh, I see. Well, no matter. I’m sure you’ll find a date—someone with a good head on his shoulders,” she added, her gaze lingering a bit too long on Rafe as if expecting him to say something.

Rafe cleared his throat, his expression unreadable as he casually picked at his food. “I’m sure Y/N will be the best-dressed one there,” he said smoothly, his tone calm but laced with a subtle edge. The mention of Chris hadn’t gone unnoticed, and a hint of jealousy flickered in his eyes.

The comment hung in the air for a moment before Ward chuckled, drawing the attention back to himself. “Well, I thinkit’s great that you’ll be attending, Y/N. Midsummers is a special event. It really brings out the best in everyone.”

“Yes, sir. My family is excited about it—it’s all my mom has been talking about,” you replied, chuckling as you offered Ward a polite smile, eager to steer the conversation away from your love life, especially with one of the culprits sitting directly across from you.

As the meal continued, Rose turned her attention to Sarah, her smile a little too fixed as she asked, “So, Sarah, I heard you were spotted down at the docks last week with…what’s his name? John B?”

The question dropped into the conversation like a stone, and Sarah froze, her fork hovering mid-air. You felt your pulse quicken as you glanced over at her, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

“Oh, that?” Sarah laughed, shrugging nonchalantly. “We just ran into each other. It was nothing.” She was doing her best to act casual, but you could tell Rose wasn’t convinced.

“Well, it just seems like…an unusual friendship, doesn’t it?” Rose remarked, her voice light, though her eyes were sharp and watchful.

“Considering his father’s…reputation.”

Sarah’s jaw tightened as she replied evenly, “John B’s not like that. He just…runs with a different group of people, that’s all.”

Ward set his glass down, nodding thoughtfully. “That’s true. John B’s worked well with us, especially on the boats. He’s shown some responsibility.” He paused, looking between you and Sarah. “But I’d hate for either of you to get caught up in their habits—like sneaking around and stretching the truth. It’s just not the kind of influence we want for you two.”

You exchanged a quick, uneasy glance with Sarah, sensing that Ward’s words held more weight than they seemed to on the surface. The underlying warning was clear.

Rose’s attention shifted to you, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. “And you, Y/N, seem to spend quite a bit of time with the Pogues, don’t you?” she asked, gesturing lightly. “How would you describe their…character?”

The question hung in the air, and you could feel the unspoken judgment. You hesitated, thinking about how to explain it without stirring more suspicion. “They’re…genuine,” you said slowly, choosing your words carefully. “They’re rough around the edges, maybe, but they’re loyal, and they don’t pretend to be something they’re not.” You looked down, aware of Ward and Rose’s scrutiny. “They’re just good people, in their own way.”

Rafe cleared his throat, breaking the tension. “Come on, Rose, it’s just a friendship,” he said, his tone casual yet carrying a hint of protectiveness as he glanced at you. “It’s not like either of them are running off with the Pogues and getting into trouble.”

Ward’s silence lingered, his frown subtle but clear. “It’s not the friendships themselves that concern me,” he said at last, eyes settling on Sarah and then you, “but the sneaking around and secrets. That’s what’s…disappointing.”

Just as the conversation drifted back to more mundane topics, Ward turned his attention to you. “Actually, Y/N, there’s something I wanted to ask you about. Your father’s company—he does business in real estate, right?”

Caught off guard, you nodded. “Uh, yes. He’s got some investments around the area.”

Ward nodded thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. “Interesting. I heard he’s been expanding into some new developments recently, some pretty big projects.”

You sensed there was more to his curiosity than casual interest, and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe’s gaze sharpened. What was Ward getting at?

“Yeah, I think he’s been working on a few,” you replied, keeping your tone light, though you felt a prickle of unease. Your dad had mentioned some big investments lately, but he was always cagey about the details.

Ward gave a satisfied nod, swirling his glass thoughtfully. “It’s good to hear. The market around here’s always shifting, and it’s smart to have eyes on it.”

“Exactly,” Rose chimed in, shooting Ward a supportive glance. “Families that know how to work with each other tend to do better in the long run, don’t they, Ward?”

You nodded politely, feeling Ward’s intent but still uncertain about the details. What exactly was he interested in?

“Tell him he should swing by sometime,” Ward added casually as if it were an afterthought. “We could go over some ideas, and talk business. Who knows, might be a win-win for both of us.”

“Oh, sure,” you said, keeping your tone neutral. “I’ll let him know.”

Ward nodded with a pleased smile, raising his glass in a small toast. “To partnerships,” he said, giving you a look that seemed almost fatherly.

You nodded politely, feeling Ward’s intent but still uncertain about the details. What exactly was he interested in?

Dinner was winding down as everyone began clearing dishes from the table and bringing them to the kitchen. Rose stood at the window, watching the heavy raindrops pelting down outside, her brows knitting together in mild concern.

“Oh, it’s really coming down out there,” she said, glancing back toward you. “Y/N, you have a way to get home, right?I’d hate for you to get caught in this.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond as Sarah chimed in. “I was going to take her, but I, uh…let Topper use my car earlier.” Her eyes flicked toward you and Rafe, her mouth twisting into a half-smile as if she could sense the tension brewing.

“Oh, that’s no problem,” Ward said, looking over at Rafe, who was lounging casually on the couch in the other room, scrolling through his phone. “Rafe, why don’t you take Y/N home? I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

The suggestion hung in the air for a moment. You and Rafe exchanged brief glances, each of you caught off guard, but Rafe recovered quickly, nodding with a tight-lipped smile.

“Yeah, I can take her,” he replied, his tone nonchalant, though his gaze lingered on you a second longer than necessary.

Rose beamed slightly taken aback by his sudden willingness. “Wonderful! Thank you, Rafe.”

Excitement and nervousness coursed through you knowing you would get alone time with Rafe without anyone suspecting anything.

Your heart thumped as you ran upstairs to grab your bag and then you said goodbyes to the Camerons. Ward remindingyou again to talk to your father about the business deal and Rose just telling you to tell your mom hi.

Rafe grabbed his keys, and after a quick farewell to Rose and Ward, he led you outside, holding the door for you as you climbed into his truck, his eyes glinting with something you couldn’t quite place. The rain continued to pour down, droplets hitting the windshield in a steady rhythm that enveloped you both.

As Rafe pulled out of the driveway, silence filled the space between you, his fingers drummed on the steering wheel, and his jaw was clenched just enough to hint that something was bothering him.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft but edged with something deeper. “So…looks like you got stuck with me .”

You chuckled, glancing over at him. “Guess I am.”

He shot you a sidelong look, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Doesn’t seem like you mind too much.”

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, “maybe we can finish what we started earlier” your hand resting on the seat between you.

His gaze flicked down to your hand, and then back to the road, dodging your flirty comment. “Seems like Chris came up a lot tonight,” he muttered, his tone casual but carrying a distinct note of tension.

Oh gosh is this what was making him so bothered, you thought

You glanced at him, feeling your heart pick up pace. “Well, it was Rose who brought him up,” you said softly, sensing that this was more than a casual comment.

Rafe nodded, a small frown crossing his face as he kept his gaze on the road. After a moment, you hesitated but felt it better to be honest. “Actually…I ran into him earlier today. At the boutique.”

His fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his expression hardening. “You ran into him?”

You sighed and nodded, feeling the familiar tug of conflict. “It was nothing, Rafe. Just…awkward. He tried to make conversation, and he asked if I was seeing anyone. I told him I wasn’t because…well because we’re supposed to keep this between us.”

Rafe’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, his jaw flexing. “So…he thinks you’re single, then?”

You glanced at him, taken aback by the edge in his tone. “Rafe, it’s not like that.”

“But it sounds like it,” he shot back, his voice soft but insistent. “I don’t like the idea of him thinking he’s got a chance when he doesn’t.”

You looked away, raising your own voice caught off guard by his intensity. “Well, what do you want me to do? Tell him I’m secretly seeing someone who…hasn’t even asked me to be his girlfriend?”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you instantly regretted it, resituating yourself in your seat glancing out the window, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

Rafe’s eyes flickered with surprise, then softened as he pulled the truck over to the side of the road a block from your house, rain pattering loudly on the roof. He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Do you…want that?”

Your breath caught, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze. The vulnerability in his eyes almost broke you, “Maybe I do,” you said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “But I’m not ready to put a label on it just yet, I like this sneaking around”

A smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, his hand finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Fine by me. But you’re still mine, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “And if I see Chris—or anyone—try to touch you, it won't go unnoticed” His jaw clenched, and he shook his head.

A shiver ran down your spine at the intensity in his voice, but a warmth spread through you at the same time. “Rafe, you know I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“Good,” he whispered, his hand moving to cradle your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek and your lip. “Because I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“You’ve wanted this for a long time Cameron?” a smile tugging on your lips, “I always knew you had a thing for me.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” he muttered, his lips curving into a smile as he leaned in.

You felt everything fade away as he pressed his lips to yours, the rain still hammering down. You melted into him, your hands threading into his hair as he deepened the kiss, his grip on you tightening as if he couldn’t get enough. The intensity between you grew, each kiss more urgent than the last, and before you knew it, he was pulling you over onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

You could feel the heat radiating between you, your breaths mingling as he kissed you with a hunger that made your head spin. His hands traced along your back, drawing you closer, as he whispered, “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, his words making your heart pound as his fingers traced gentle patterns on your back and he began to kiss down your neck hitting your soft spot. “Rafe…” you moaned out.

“And if I see any guy even thinking about getting too close…” He trailed off, his lips brushing against yours as he spoke, a possessive glint in his eye. “I’ll remind you exactly who you belong to.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and you captured his lips in another kiss, feeling the heat between you building.

“Rafe,” you breathed between kisses, “I can’t get enough of you.”

“Good,” he whispered, his voice rough as his hands explored you, pulling you closer. “Because I don’t think I could stop, even if I tried.”

He held you close, his lips moving from your mouth to your jaw, then along your neck, each touch igniting sparks across your skin. You felt as though you were lost in him, the way he looked at you as though you were the only person in the world.

“I can’t wait to see you in that Midsummers dress,” he murmured, his voice rough with anticipation, his hands lingering at your waist. “I can only imagine how good you’ll look.” he continues to whisper, “and how good it'll be when I take it off and fuck you.”

His words made you blush, a smile playing on your lips as you gazed at him. “You’ll just have to be patient.”

He grinned, capturing your mouth again in a kiss that was anything but patient, his hands roaming up your back, pulling you closer. Without thinking, your fingers drifted to the buttons on his shirt, fumbling slightly as you began to undo them, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your hands. He exhaled sharply, his grip tightening as you pushed the shirt off his shoulders, running your hands over the hard lines of his chest.

You pull away quickly, and Rafe can sense your reason for hesitation.

“Don’t worry, baby. It’s raining so hard, and my windows are too tinted,” he says confidently, immediately going back to attacking your neck.

Rafe’s hand slipped under your shirt, tugging it off with a swift motion, his fingers exploring the newly exposed skin with an intensity that left you breathless. His hands cupped your breasts, and you shivered at the sensation.

“God, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips pressing against your collarbone as he pulled you flush against him. His mouth left a trail of fire along your skin, kisses becoming more insistent as he marked you with small bites—a silent declaration that you were his.

Your hands drifted down, fingers skimming over his toned chest before finding the waistband of his shorts. You felt his body tense under your touch, his breath hitching, eyes darkening with a fierce, barely restrained desire as he looked down at you.

“Careful,” he whispered, his voice low, almost a warning. But the challenge in his gaze made it impossible for you to hold back. You pressed

closer, letting him know you were just as ready for this as he was.

You locked eyes with him, a smirk playing on your lips as you took your time grinding your hips down, feeling his hardness beneath you. Rafe let out a low groan, his hands instinctively gripping your waist, urging you to move. His grip tightened, one hand sliding over your thigh and pulling you closer, making you roughen the kiss as his touch neared the edge of your skirt.

A shiver ran through you as Rafe’s hand inched along your inner thigh, each slow movement sparking anticipation. When his fingers brushed over your panties, you caught your breath, your heart pounding as he pulled the fabric to the side. His fingers found your warm, wet center, and he sighed against your mouth, his arousal pressing insistently against you.

A low moan escaped your lips as his fingers entered you, the roughness of his touch making you grip his seat for support. You’d craved this feeling, the way only Rafe could make you lose yourself, and every lingering memory of your first night together flooded back, more intense than ever.

You let your lips drift down to his neck, biting and sucking as you went, intent on leaving a visible reminder. Your body was moving on instinct, grinding against his hand as he picked up the pace, each thrust of his fingers igniting you further. When he angled his fingers just right, your body tensed, and a choked gasp escaped you, urging him on as he went deeper.

You rocked your hips against his hand, feeling the pressure building, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. The pleasure built steadily until you felt it crest, your entire body shuddering as you surrendered to the intensity of it. The truck windows fogged up, trapping the warmth between you as the rain pattered on the roof outside.

Rafe’s fingers slowed, coaxing the last waves of pleasure from you, and you moaned softly, holding tightly to his arm. Just when you were catching your breath, he slipped his fingers out, leaving you with an ache at the sudden emptiness.

With a sly smirk, Rafe reached down, pulling his boxers lower to reveal himself to you. The sight made you bite your lip, but he didn’t leave you much time to dwell on it; his hands tugged at your hips, guiding you over to your knees. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a condom and tore it open, sliding it on in one smooth motion.

Breathless with anticipation, you steadied yourself above him, slowly lowering your hips as Rafe guided you down. A gasp escaped both of you as he filled you completely, the world around you fading away as you moved together, lost entirely in each other.

As he entered you, a shared moan echoed between you, raw and unfiltered. “Holy shit, you’re so perfect,” Rafe breathed, his head falling back, his voice laced with awe.

He leaned forward, capturing your mouth with his, his breath mingling with yours as he deepened the kiss, sending a rush of pleasure straight through you.

You began to move, adjusting to his size. Each new rise and fall brought a wave of intensity that heightened your pleasure. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you took him in fully, and you wondered if his fingers might leave marks.

Your own hands curled around his arms for support, gripping tighter each time he filled you, your bodies falling perfectly in sync.

As you grew more comfortable, your pace quickened, driven by the sheer pleasure that neither of you could hold back.

“Rafe…” you whispered, your voice trembling as you began to falter, feeling yourself edging closer. No one had ever made you feel this way before, and you could sense you wouldn’t last much longer, each movement pushing you closer to the brink of release.

“You just feel so good. You’re so perfect, princess,” he murmured, trailing kisses down your neck and onto your breasts. With each thrust, he guided your movements, pulling you down harder onto his lap, as if channeling the jealousy he’d felt over Chris into each motion.

Rafe’s arm tightened around your waist, drawing you in deeper, the pressure becoming almost unbearable in the most addictive way. The sound of your pleasure filled the small space, mingling with the sound of the rain pounding against the truck. You swore that if it weren’t raining so hard, anyone nearby would hear the sounds of your moans. Soft whimpers and moans spilled from your lips as Rafe continued, making you completely his. He groaned, his voice low and rough, as your moans nearly sent him over the edge.

You were lost in the rhythm of it all, overwhelmed by the sensations as you neared your peak once more. Rafe’s thrusts became more intense, and you felt the tightening of your walls around him, a telltale sign that you were on the brink.

“Rafe!” you gasped, feeling your climax wash over you in waves, pulling a deep moan from your throat. “I want you so bad,” you murmured,

“Come inside me, baby…” Your words seemed to ignite something in him, his eyes widening as he watched your body react, his arms wrapping around you, holding you close as he thrust deeper.

You could hardly breathe, your body trembling as the overwhelming pleasure intensified. It felt like you were floating, the world outside fading until only he remained—his touch, his heat, the way he made you feel. Rafe groaned, a low, desperate sound as he felt your walls tighten around him, his own release fast approaching.

With a final thrust, he buried himself deeper, his hips moving sloppily as his climax took over. His hands gripped your waist as he moaned against your skin, his lips finding your chest as he rode out the last waves of pleasure. For a moment, both of you remained still, panting as you caught your breath, hearts racing in unison. Rafe whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you caught your breath, Rafe fixing your hair.

“You okay pretty girl?” he asked leaning in to kiss you.

“More than okay, Rafe,” you say between kisses, smiling more and more. You swear you've never felt so happy.

You pull back slightly, and he does too, your eyes meeting in a moment of vulnerability. You can't quite put your finger on why kissing him feels so different—so much better— so right.

You kiss him once more, instantly melting into his warm touch. You want to stay in his arms forever until your moment is interrupted by the buzzing of a phone. You glance over and it's Rafe's phone on the dashboard, Dad.

Rafe answered the call, his voice shifting to a more serious tone. “Hey, Dad,” he said, leaning slightly away from you as he focused on the conversation. You watched as his expression darkened, his jaw tightening at whatever his father was saying.

“I told you I’d handle it,” Rafe snapped, frustration evident in his tone. You could see the tension building as he rubbed a hand over his face. “No, I’m fine. Just… give me a minute. Just dropped Y/N off. I drove extra slow since the rain was so bad.”

Your heart sank as you realized your time together was slipping away. Rafe looked back at you, his expression apologetic, but you could see the stress brewing in his eyes. “I have to go. I’ll call you later, Dad” he said, clearly trying to wrap up the conversation.

You sat back slightly, feeling the warmth of your earlier intimacy fade, trying to give him space while the weight of the moment lingered between you.

Rafe ended the call and exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry about that. My dad’s being… well, you know how he is. Just pissed off about some investment bullshit,” he said, frustration still etched on his face.

“It’s fine,” you replied, trying to sound more upbeat than you felt. “Family stuff comes first.”

“Yeah, but I was really enjoying… this,” he said, with a smirk on his face but his voice still lingering with regret.

“Me too,” you admitted.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and for a moment, everything felt perfect again. “Let’s go do something this week, okay? I’ll take you out on a real date.” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, promising more to come.

You nodded eagerly, giving him another soft kiss, cupping his cheeks as you savored the moment.

He helped you swiftly off him, both of you collecting your scattered clothing and attempting to put it back on correctly.

“I should get you home before your dad starts worrying,” Rafe said reluctantly, the reality of the situation settling over you both.

You nodded, feeling a mix of disappointment and understanding that this moment together was ending. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Rafe started up his truck, creeping closer to your house. He pulled over in front of your home and parked.

As you climbed out of the truck and into the pouring rain, Rafe came over to the other side and offered you his hoodie to protect you from the rain. You swiftly put it on, feeling its warmth envelop you.

“Do you want me to walk you to the door?” he asked, his eyes searching yours, finding any reason to spend more time with you.

You didn’t really have a choice but to nod. “Yeah, that’d be great,” you replied, a flicker of anxiety rushed through you at the thought of getting caught but it out to be rainy and dark enough, no one could make out his figure.

As he walked you to your front door, you said a quick, discreet goodbye, not wanting to raise any flags or cause your dad to look out the window. You took one last glance at him, watching him walk back to his truck, his shoulders slightly hunched against the rain.

As you slipped inside, your heart raced as you stood in the hallway, the familiar sounds of your home bringing you back to reality as you tried to shake off the lingering adrenaline from your time with Rafe.

“Y/N?” your dad called from the living room, pulling you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself as you approached.

“Hey, Dad,” you replied, forcing a casual tone. He was sitting on the couch, the TV flickering in the dim light.

“Where have you been? You got home a little late,” he said, looking up at you and the clock with a hint of concern.

“Oh, I was just with Sarah,” you said quickly. “Her brother drove me home since she didn’t have her car.” The words felt slippery, but you hoped they’d hold.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly gauging your sincerity. “Okay, just make sure you’re careful out there, especially with the rain coming down so hard.”

You nodded, relieved that he seemed to accept your explanation. “I will, Dad. I promise.”

He glanced at the hoodie now draped on your arm, his brow furrowing slightly. “That’s a nice hoodie. Is it new?”

“Yeah, I just borrowed it,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you fiddled with the fabric. “I got cold, so… you know how it is.”

Your dad nodded but remained silent for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “Just remember honey, I worry about you, sometimes I don’t know if you’re out with those pogues or not. I’d rather you be safe than sorry.”

“Of course,” you said, forcing a smile to reassure him. “I’m always careful Dad, I promise.”

He smiled back, his worry easing a bit. “Good. Now go wash up and get some rest. You’ve had a long day. I love you”

“Okay, night Dad, love you too,” you said but right before you headed up the stairs you turned around, “Oh Dad, Ward Cameron wanted to meet with you about some business investment stuff”

He simply chuckled and said “Okay” before you continued heading up the stairs towards your bedroom.

Once back in your room, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in the pillow as a muffled scream escaped—equal parts frustration and exhilaration. The adrenaline started to fade and the memories of Rafe’s touch, his kisses, and that promise of a real date whirled through your mind, making it hard to catch your breath. Excitement buzzed through your veins, filling you with a warmth that felt as surreal as it was intoxicating.

None of tonight felt real.

You could still feel the comforting weight of his arms around you, and his hoodie was still curled up in your arms, smelling strongly of his cologne—a lingering reminder of everything that had happened.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, snapping you out of your thoughts. Reaching over, you saw a message from Kiara.

Hey, Y/N! The Pogues and I are hitting the beach tomorrow. The waves are supposed to be crazy good. Wanna come?

A grin crept across your face as you quickly typed a reply.

Oh, hell yes! That sounds perfect!

But as soon as you hit send, another notification flashed across your screen. This time, it was your manager, Lance.

Hey Y/N! I’m so sorry it’s late, but could you pick up a morning shift tomorrow? We’re short-staffed, and I could reallyuse your help!

Your heart sank as you rolled your eyes in frustration. Taking an early shift meant skipping the beach day you’d just agreed to. You hesitated, caught between the thought of spending time with the pogues or actually making some money.

With a reluctant sigh, you typed out a response to Lance,

Sure! What time?

Then, biting your lip, you shot a follow-up message to Kiara.

Shit, Ki, I’m so sorry! My manager just asked me to work tomorrow morning, so I’ll have to miss out. But maybe I can meet up later?

After a few seconds, you saw Kiara’s text bubble pop up.

Ugh, bummer. Don’t let those Kooks work you too hard! We’ll be at the Chateau if you wanna swing by later. I’ll even save you a drink. Plus, we have some stuff to catch you up on.

You tossed your phone on the bed with a sigh, the weight of the skipping out kind of making you upset but you’ve called off so many shifts these past few weeks. Plus you know there will be a party this week to make up for lost time. You kicked off your shoes and pulled the covers over you. Your body was utterly exhausted.

As you settled into bed, Butters, your cat, jumped up and curled himself beside you, purring contentedly. You ran your fingers through his soft fur, letting the rhythm of his purring lull you into a sense of calm.

"I hate skipping out on the Pogues," you muttered to Butters, who responded with a contented purr. "But, hey, at least I won’t be broke."

You sighed, snuggling into the covers and letting the warmth of your cat and the quiet of the room start to ease your mind. Just as you were starting to drift off, a new notification buzzed on your phone.

You picked it up, blinking at the screen in surprise.

Goodnight beautiful

A small smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the text. You couldn’t help the flutter in your chest, even though you knew you'd have to face the consequences of whatever you were getting yourself into with Rafe. For now, though, you let the words settle in and your exhaustion wins, letting sleep pull you under.

--——----------————- ❥・-------------------------

Taglist: @rafesno1bae, @drewsphswife, @maybankslover

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shadowfae1878 · 15 hours ago

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i do not think i could ever emphasise just how much the byler fight + mileven breakup make me truly believe byler endgame.

the mileven breakup is, very obviously, a scene that isnt supposed to be taken seriously. its in a open space, the sky is blue, there are people all around and it also focuses on the other characters (ig. max and lucas and will) which shows that its not a personal moment. you��d think that if this was a serious breakup scene, it would be done in way that makes it feel like its private, not showing anyone but those two but they dont and the emotions you see on mike and el’s faces are more annoyed than upset.

the byler fight however, is literally the exact opposite. it’s isolated, just in mike garage and its only mike and will. lucas is still in the other room yet you forget that he’s there because he kinda just disappears after mike and will leave the basement. its a cold, dark scene and its raining. mike and will are both visibly upset in this scene, they both get mad for a moment but other than that they look like they almost want to cry.

so if you were to ask someone who has never seen stranger things, which scene they thought was the breakup scene. i think we can ALL agree which they would pick. and its NOT the one that EVERY person has laughed at when they watched it for the first time

#im so sorry if this doesnt make sense #im tired but i really wanted to get this down :)#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #mike wheeler i know what you are #anti mileven #byler analysis #stranger things #stranger things analysis

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ssivinee · 23 hours ago

Text

❥ 𝚁𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

ITZY! Racer! Shin Ryujin x F reader x tripleS! Racer! Park Sohyun: In Seoul’s street racing scene, there has always been a long history of rivalry. Caught between two fierce racers, Y/n tries to find herself as she's entangled with the two. In a world where loyalty is risky, and feelings blur the finish line, some connections might be more dangerous than they seem.

Word Count: 12.5 k

Author's Note: IM SO BACK WITH THE LONG FICS, YUH. This was actually keeping me distracted with everything going on in this country rn...🤩. YES, I'm still working on Ambivalence. But I needed some new ideas to keep me going. This is also likely A TWO PARTER pls keep that in mind😭.

The streets were full of life, filled with people buzzing with excitement. The air was thick with the smell of gasoline while the low rumble of engines set the scene. Every racer, car enthusiast, and spectator gathered at the finish line, eyes locked on the flashing headlights in the distance.

The roar of red, purple, green, and blue cars thundered down the street, each one edging forward, only inches between victory and defeat. Five feet to the line, the purple car shot forward, tires screeching as it surged past the finish line in a final burst of speed.

The crowd erupted into wild cheers, everyones energy at an all time high as they waved their hands and whistled. In the blue car behind, the driver slammed a fist against the steering wheel, frustration stained across their face.

Emerging from the purple car, Shin Ryujin stepped out with her signature whisker-like smile, her confidence clear as day. She tossed her hair back, running slender fingers through the locks that had made their way to her face while some of her crew flocked around her, voices echoing with awe.

“The unbeatable Ryujin does it again,” Jaemin says, voice dripping in sarcasm as he tapped away at his phone, causing her to nudge him in the side.

Ryujin laughed, the sound warm and mischievous. “Hey, someone’s gotta keep you guys in check,” she shot back in a joking manner, sparing a mock glare at Jaemin.

“Someday, someone’s gonna dethrone you, noona,” Jay joked, lounging with Sohyun and Jake. He glanced at Sohyun, who looked surprised when Ryujin signaled in her direction.

“It'll likely be you, Hyun,” Ryujin suggested, and Sohyun’s eyes widened. “You’re undefeated, too, right?”

“Yeah, she’s 6-0,” Jay chimed in, patting her on the shoulder, proud at his best friend.

“Not 23-0, though,” Jaemin muttered, rolling his eyes as he scrolled through his phone. Ryujin gave him another playful shove, unfazed. “Come on, Min. She literally just got started like a month ago.”

As they joked, Ryujin’s eyes sparkled, and she checked her phone, her expression shifting to one of excitement. “Guys, next week’s Turf Races,” she announced, a grin spreading across her face. The boys exchanged eager looks while Sohyun’s brows furrowed in confusion.

Ryujin chuckled and explained, “Turf Races happen every three months. It’s like the biggest showdown for Korea’s racers—groups from all over the country come together to race, and every city brings their best.”

Jaemin scoffs, glancing at the younger racer, “Or, as Incheon calls it, a contest to see who’s ‘the king or queen of racing.’” His tone was evidently sarcastic, and Sohyun noticed Jake and Jay shaking their heads in irritation.

“Do we not like Incheon’s groups?” Sohyun asked, catching the tension.

Ryujin sighed, flicking Jake and Jay’s forehead lightly. “It’s not like that. Seoul and Incheon have always been the rivals of the country. We’ve got the biggest crews, the toughest records, and a deep history of…let’s call it a friendly competition.”

Jake crossed his arms, nodding. “Cheuksin versus Djinn. We were the first crew, the oldest at that, the one every group respects.”

“But Djinn’s a different story,” Ryujin said, taking a sip from her nearby water bottle. “The Turf Races were always meant to be a friendly way for solo riders to meet. You know? To network and even possibly join a crew. But Djinn’s founder created their group for one reason—to compete with us. Ever since we’ve had this…complicated history.”

Jaemin leaned in, lowering his voice for dramatic effect. “Their current leader? Yeh Shuhua. First Taiwanese racer to lead a Korean crew. She’s no joke; she raced her way to the top, and no one was shocked when she took over. But she’s got a reputation…not the nicest attitude.”

He shrugged. “She doesn’t bother me, though. I can match her freak.”

Everyone chuckled, knowing Jaemin wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge. But Sohyun’s gaze was thoughtful, her heart racing a little at the thought. “We’re racing them next week?”

Ryujin smiled at her, nodding. “Don’t worry, Hyun. You’ll do great. Besides, we’ve got a record that’s pretty hard to beat.” Jay raised his hands in mock celebration. “It’d take them winning every race for the next five years just to catch up to us.”

Ryujin laughed, then focused on Sohyun, her tone suddenly serious. “Stay with me until eleven tonight, okay? We’re going to work on a few things.”

Sohyun nodded, gripping her keys as she made her way to her car. In the parking lot, her father’s Chevrolet Camaro Z/28 awaited her, shining under the lights. The blood-red paint job gleamed, always a beauty to look at in her eyes. Climbing into the driver’s seat, she traced her hand along the wheel, memories flooding her mind. She could almost feel her dad’s presence beside her, guiding her hands like he had at so many races.

Sighing, she ran her fingers over the sleek dashboard, thinking back to the countless races he’d won. He’d been a Cheuksin legend, and even after his passing, making Sohyun a famous legacy amongst all of Cheuksin’s members.

A sudden knock on her window jolted her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see Ryujin grinning, tapping her wrist to signal the time. Not noticing how much time had passed, Sohyun started the car, feeling the smooth purr of the engine as she pulled out of the spot and followed Ryujin up to the upper parking lot level.

Ryujin’s purple Mustang Shelby GT350R awaited her there, alone against the expanse of concrete pillars. Sohyun pulled up beside her leader, lowering her window as Ryujin did the same on the passenger side.

“So, tonight, we’re focusing on drifting,” Ryujin said, nodding toward the concrete columns ahead. “In real races, especially on Turf Race tracks, you’ll hit some crazy turns and obstacles. Drifting can make or break those moments.”

With that, she revved her engine and gave a quick demonstration. Her car slid smoothly around each pillar, tires squealing in perfect curves, leaving clean arcs of rubber on the ground. Sohyun watched in awe, barely blinking as Ryujin returned to the starting spot and rolled down her window, laughing at the look on Sohyun’s face.

“It’s all in the timing and control. You’ve got the skills already, legacy,” she said, using the nickname with pride. “And we’ve got a week to perfect this. You’ll be ready.”

With a determined nod, Sohyun rolled up her window, heart pounding as she steered toward the pillars. She took a deep breath, then let her car fly forward, mirroring Ryujin’s graceful maneuvers.

Hours passed in a blur of tire squeals and engine roars, but finally, Ryujin clapped as Sohyun completed her last round. “You’re ready for Turf Races,” she said with a proud smile, knowing her protégé would succeed in the upcoming races.

—--

It was Friday afternoon, and people were beginning to gather at the Turf Races location—a spot quite far enough from Seoul that closing off streets for the races had been an easy task. The night air hung heavy with the scent of gasoline, mingling with the distant echoes of engines revving while a wave of people crowded the dimly lit streets.

Ryujin leaned against her car, scrolling through Cheuksin's group chat on her phone, occasionally glancing up to spot anyone from her crew in the crowd. Her fingers moved quickly, sending messages to keep track of everyone's whereabouts.

She was too focused, barely noticing the shuffle of heels clicking nearby—until she heard a low whistle and a gentle voice. “That is one nice Shelby.”

Ryujin looked up, expecting a casual compliment. But what she saw made her pause.

You were just… breathtaking.

The beaming streetlights glazed over your skin, bringing out the sheen of your pink glossed lips, which formed a slight pout. Ryujin’s gaze dropped to your outfit—a pair of white stilettos, a light blue A-line skirt that brushed just above your knees, and a crisp white collared blouse with a bow that held your hair in a high ponytail.

You looked so out of place in the sea of leather jackets, jeans, boots, and sneakers, yet the fact that you’d called her car a Shelby instead of just a Mustang hinted you knew precisely where you were.

Realizing she was staring, Ryujin blinked and felt her face warm as you laughed, shrugging casually. “I get that reaction a lot.”

Ryujin snapped out of her trance, waving her hands nervously. “No, no, I didn’t mean to stare! I just—” She struggled for the right words. “You… don’t look like the racing type.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow in mock offense. “And what does the racing type look like?”

Ryujin winced, stumbling over her words. “I didn’t mean it like that, I just—”

You interrupted with a soft laugh. “Relax, I’m just pulling your leg.” Your eyes traced over her car, lingering on the glossy curves and soft edges of its body. “But really, that’s a beautiful Shelby. A GT350R?”

Ryujin’s jaw dropped slightly, and her usual cool shattered. “Y-you know cars?” she stammered, her voice betraying her surprise.

“My older brother’s a mechanic,” you replied, brushing an invisible wrinkle from your sleeve. “I work with him, so I’m around cars like this all the time. Especially street racers.” Your eyes drifted back to the car, admiration sparking in them. “But this one’s a standout—those decals are insane.”

You nodded towards the deep purple paint job with the bold image of a dark blue dragon that was outlined with black, almost swimming across the hood. The creature’s scales shimmered under the streetlights, each one meticulously outlined. “Any reason for the blue dragon?”

A smile broke out across Ryujin’s face, and she looked completely at ease for the first time. “Yeah. It’s because my name’s Ryujin. Dragon and Sea God in Japanese.”

Your eyebrows lifted, and you nodded, letting out a soft, “Ahh.” After a moment, something seemed to click. “Wait, Ryujin? As in Shin Ryujin of Cheuksin?” A flicker of pride flashed across Ryujin’s face before she tried to play it off, giving a casual shrug. “You know who I am?”

You gave her an amused look, eyes gleaming. “Who doesn’t know the leader of Cheuksin?”

Ryujin’s confidence faltered slightly as she remembered her reputation. But then you extended your hand, that same knowing smile on your lips. “I’m Y/n.”

Ryujin took your hand, shaking it carefully, her fingers lingering just a second too long. “Y/n from…?”

“Oh, I’m not with any crew.” You chuckled, letting your gaze drift back to the race preparations in the distance. “I’m just here supporting a few friends tonight.” Ryujin nodded, intrigued. “Is that why I’ve never seen you at Turf Wars before?”

“Sort of.” You glanced down briefly, your smile fading a little. “My brother’s shop keeps me busy most Fridays. This is a rare night off, so I thought I’d check it out.”

Ryujin hesitated, curiosity getting the better of her. “Any reason you’re dressed… like this?”

You blinked, looking genuinely confused until her meaning registered. “Oh,” you chuckled, glancing down at your outfit. “I had lunch with some friends earlier. Didn’t have time to change before heading out here.”

Ryujin thought about this, taking in your polished look. “You from Incheon?”

You laughed softly, eyes wide with surprise. “Good guess. Yeah, I am. How’d you know?”

Ryujin rubbed the back of her neck, suddenly looking away. “Just a wild guess,” she murmured, hoping you didn’t notice the slight flush on her cheeks.

You nodded, checking your phone as the time ticked closer to the race’s start. “I should get going. But it was nice to meet you, Miss Shin.” You smiled, your expression warm yet mysterious as you turned to leave, each step measured and confident.

Ryujin watched you go, the sounds of the crowd fading into the background. She wanted to reach out, call your name, and ask for a way to keep in touch. But something in her held back, an unspoken understanding that tonight’s meeting was all it was meant to be.

As you disappeared into the crowd, she felt a pang of regret—and maybe just a little curiosity, too.

As Ryujin’s focus shifted to her phone, you found yourself drawn to the side of the street, where a frustrated grunt caught your attention. “Don’t do this to me now,” a girl muttered, hands digging under the hood of what appeared to be her car.

Her face was half-hidden behind messy wisps of hair and tilted glasses, and she was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t notice you watching.

Without a word, you glanced over her shoulder, spotting the issue almost immediately. “Your spark plug’s shot,” you noted, your voice catching her by surprise as she jumped, hitting her head against the hood. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” you said smoothly, barely looking at her as she rubbed the spot, eyes widening.

“Oh, no, that’s not on you,” she mumbled, visibly flustered. “It’s just been… a day,” she added, glancing back at the car.

“Got any tools in the trunk?” you asked, not exactly offering to help, just curious. She blinked, seeming to process the question, and quickly rushed to the back, rummaging through an assortment of random supplies before returning with an entire toolkit and a handful of spark plugs.

You let out a small laugh, barely contained. “Didn’t need all of that,” you murmured, taking a single plug from her and rolling up your sleeves.

“Oh, uh… okay,” she stammered, clearly uncertain but watching you carefully as you got to work. “You’re… you know a lot about this stuff?”

“Just enough,” you replied, already busy disconnecting the battery. “How long’s it been sitting here?”

“Uh… maybe an hour?” She seemed unsure of herself, her hands fiddling with her sleeves.

“You must be new to this scene,” you commented, your tone neutral, keeping the words light. She laughed nervously, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Is it that obvious?”

You nodded slightly, finishing the repair without meeting her gaze. “Let’s just say most people check their engines before Turf Races.” The barest hint of a smirk tugged at your lips as you caught her watching you, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

“I only started a month ago,” she admitted shyly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Guess that makes you a true rookie,” you remarked, finally shutting the hood and dusting off your hands. “Try it now.”

She slid into the driver’s seat, her eyes wide as she turned the key. The car purred to life, and she looked at you with pure relief. “Thank you… I—I don’t even know what to say.” She reached out, shaking your hand with surprising energy, a grateful smile breaking across her face.

“Don’t mention it,” you replied with an easy wave. “You should be good now. Just keep an eye on it next time.”

“Still… thank you so much…” she paused, tilting her head as if waiting for you to fill in the blank.

“Y/n,” you said simply, letting her linger on the name before nodding towards the road. “Good luck out there.”

As you turned and melted into the crowd, you felt her gaze trailing after you, a mixture of awe and lingering nerves etched on her face. She watched until you disappeared completely, her hand still on the steering wheel as if replaying the exchange in her mind.

After a few minutes, all of Cheuksin gathered at the dead end of the deserted street. Sohyun leaned against her car, spacing out as nerves twisted within her, each stray thought building up in her mind. The distant roar of engines and hum of voices buzzed around her, snapping back only when she saw Ryujin rambling to Jaemin, who practically paid no mind to her.

“Can’t pay even a smidge of attention, unnie?” she teased, rolling his eyes though a faint smile tugged at his lips. “Some girl’s cast a spell on her, and now she can’t stop talking about her or looking for her.”

Ryujin’s gaze roamed over the sea of racers, scanning faces in search of someone who clearly wasn’t there. Sohyun, curious and unused to seeing her mentor distracted, followed her line of sight—but neither of them spotted the mystery girl.

"So," Jay’s hand clapped Sohyun’s back, jolting her. She felt her heartbeat quicken from the scare. "Think you’re ready?"

Sohyun shrugged, the weight of nerves still heavy. "Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess."

"Hey, lighten up a little, Hyun," Ryujin reassured, playfully patting her head. “You’ll do great.”

“So, who are we up against, noona?” Jake asked, leaning casually on Sohyun’s car.

“It’s Seoul versus Incheon and a few smaller groups,” Ryujin replied, looking at Sohyun with an encouraging smile. “Traditional match-up. You’ll go against Djinn’s second-in-command. They seemed to have taken an interest in you since I’m training you, so they put you up against someone with experience.”

Sohyun's fingers tightened around her keys. “Anything I need to know?”

Ryujin’s gaze sharpened. “The racer’s name is Choi Yeonjun. Skilled, but… he doesn’t play fair.”

“‘Doesn’t play fair’ is one way to put it,” a voice interjected, slicing through their conversation like a blade. Everyone turned toward the middle of the street, where a woman with sleek black hair stood, exuding a presence as sharp as her smirk. “I call it ‘determined to win.’”

Sohyun straightened instinctively. ‘That must be Djinn’s leader,’ she thought, noting the woman’s confident stance and the air of authority she exuded.

“Determined to win?” Jaemin cut in with a sneer, tauntingly folding his arms. “It’s desperation, Shuhua. When was the last time Yeonjun won without trying to pit someone's car?”

Shuhua arched an eyebrow, amused by Jaemin’s challenge. “Oh, poor Min-Min,” she purred, her voice laced with mock sympathy. “Still sore about the last race, hmm? Yeonjun knocked you right out, and guess what? He won.”

Jaemin’s fists clenched, but Ryujin stepped forward, blocking his view of Shuhua with a calm, confident smile.

“Always here to stir up trouble, aren’t you?” Ryujin said coolly, her eyes never wavering. Shuhua flicked her hair back, sending Ryujin a look meant to rattle—but Ryujin didn’t flinch. She never did, and that’s what made Shuhua hate her even more.

“Shin Ryujin,” Shuhua drawled, her smirk sharpening. “Always a pleasure.” But her eyes said otherwise, sparking with the rivalry that ran as deep as the roots of their crews. “Why don’t you guys just prove it with your racing?”

With that question, Shuhua’s face becomes serious as her eyes land directly on Sohyun, who almost shivers at her gaze. “We definitely will. Especially after Yeonjun beats that precious new protégé of yours.”

Ryujin let out a soft chuckle, her gaze falling on their newest racer. “So you’re so worried about a girl I’m training that you need to pull a cheap stunt?” she said, her voice steady but cutting. “All for what, Shuhua? Just so Yeonjun can snag a win, and you can say you’ve beaten someone I’m teaching?”

“No,” Shuhua replied, stepping closer until she stood directly across from Sohyun. The only thing separating them was the sleek, red car, and the street went silent as every eye turned toward the standoff.

You worked your way through the gathered crowd, just catching sight of Shuhua and the girl you’d recently helped. Rolling your eyes at Shuhua’s usual games, you already knew this routine—the intimidation, the taunts, all the flair that made her notorious as Djinn’s leader.

With a cocky tilt of her head, Shuhua’s voice carried confidently. “Not only do you train her, but little Miss Park Sohyun here is Cheuksin’s legacy.”

Your eyes widened at the revelation. So the ‘helpless girl’ from earlier was no ordinary racer—she was someone with a name, a history. You smirked, finding it endearing that she was carrying on her family’s reputation.

Shuhua’s gaze lingered on Ryujin, her smirk ever-present as she gestured toward Sohyun. “I just wanted to see what she’s made of. And since I’m racing you,” she paused, her eyes flicking back to Ryujin with a look as sharp as it was smug before settling back on Sohyun, “I figured Yeonjun would be the perfect opponent to push her limits. Don’t you think?”

Ryujin’s stance relaxed, confidence radiating as she glanced at Sohyun. “He would,” she replied smoothly, taking a few strides closer, which made Shuhua instinctively step back from Sohyun’s car. “And I promise you this—Sohyun’s going to be the one to knock Yeonjun down a peg or two.” She reached out, patting Shuhua’s arm with a smug smile that held no hint of doubt.

Shuhua’s smirk wavered, and with a scoff, she turned away, motioning to her crew, who immediately fell in line behind her. Jay placed a reassuring hand on Sohyun’s shoulder, sensing her nerves. “Don’t worry about them, Hyun. They’re just trying to get under your skin,” he said, and Ryujin nodded in agreement, her steady gaze a quiet reassurance.

You, meanwhile, stepped through the crowd toward Shuhua, catching her attention. She turned, her face lighting up as she saw you approach. With that familiar flirtatious smile, she closed the distance, sliding her arms around your waist. “You finally made it,” she murmured, her voice dripping with a mixture of excitement and mischief. You rolled your eyes, but her smirk only grew.

“And you’re back to causing a scene,” you replied dryly, though your tone held a hint of annoyance.

“Come on,” she purred, her voice dropping as she leaned closer, “Don’t be like that, baby.” She pulled you into a kiss, her fingers pressing into your back as if to draw you closer, oblivious to the crowd around you.

Across the lot, Ryujin had started making her way back toward her car, only to pause mid-step when she spotted the two of you. Her expression shifted, her eyes narrowing as something unspoken flashed across her face. The sight of Shuhua’s hands on you—and the intensity of a kiss—made her visibly tense. “Shit.”

Sohyun and Jaemin only caught Ryujin’s reaction, both their eyes following the direction of hers. The younger girl’s eyes widen at the view, “fuck,” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of shock and disbelief.

Jaemin, noticing the tension, followed their gaze and immediately grasped the situation. “There’s no fucking way,” he muttered, hitting his forehead with his palm as the realization hit him fast. This was something that was surely gonna bite them in the ass. He just knew it.

———

Two hours passed, and multiple races had come and gone, but Ryujin and Sohyun remained seated in their cars, each lost in thought as time dragged on.

Inside the darkness of her car, Ryujin’s fingers tapped restlessly against the steering wheel, her gaze distant as she fought the tension inside her. She knew she couldn’t allow herself to feel drawn to you. It was wrong; every logical part of her told her so.

You were with Shuhua—the woman who led the crew that had been a nuisance to Cheuksin for years, the woman whose antics often fueled the bitter competition between them. It was like craving forbidden candy, the temptation all the more potent because she knew it would end in pain.

Meanwhile, Sohyun sat in silence, her hands gripping the wheel as her mind circled over recent events. A pang of frustration rose in her chest as she chided herself for being so easily captivated. She barely knew you, yet in that brief encounter, you had gone out of your way to help her. The way you’d helped her with her car, saving her from further distress—it shouldn’t have meant so much, but it did like the calm within a storm.

While the two women of Cheuksin sat in deep thought, you sat in the passenger seat of Shuhua’s sleek car, feeling the weight of her gaze on you that never seemed to leave.

You stayed quiet, absorbing the silence, something you’d grown accustomed to despite the label of “girlfriend” she’d given you. The relationship felt like an empty shell—just a surface attraction without depth.

Five months ago, she’d spotted you at a high-end lounge, captivated by your looks, and that was that. She took you out, but the dates were more about her than the two of you.

Shuhua would talk endlessly about herself, and you’d sit back, downing glasses of liquor to drown out the sound of her voice. By the fifth date, she’d asked you to make it ‘official’, and you’d agreed with little hesitation, not for love or even real interest, but for the easy fun of it.

It was shallow, you knew that. But you also knew Shuhua didn’t see you as much more than a trophy herself. She paraded you around, prideful in her claim over you, flaunting her arm candy like an expensive piece of art that she wasn’t willing to sell.

But lately, the fun had worn off, and Shuhua’s true self had begun to show. Even if you didn’t feel strongly for her, you had always valued loyalty. As empty as this relationship was, you held onto it with a strange sense of commitment, keeping things monogamous out of habit more than anything. Shuhua, however, had other ideas—she flirted with other women openly, craving their attention as if you didn’t exist in her life.

It was only a matter of time, you felt before you’d see her taking it further, and the thought of it was slowly beginning to anger you.

You knew your worth and valued yourself. A famous crew leader wasn’t about to change that.

The scene with Cheuksin was no different from the usual problems she liked to cause, but watching Shuhua’s antics up close made them hit differently. You’d heard plenty of rumors about her behavior at these events, and tonight only confirmed them. At one point, you believed she might’ve been genuinely passionate about racing—it showed in how she talked about her past wins and accomplishments. But now? It was hard to tell what motivated her anymore.

The thought always had the cogwheels turning in your mind. Was it the popularity? The money? The constant attention? Whatever it was, it seemed like her motivations shifted every time you blinked.

As she glanced your way, you felt a pang of discomfort that was getting harder to ignore. The time you spent with her was becoming more exhausting by the second, and you’d reached your limit. You took a deep breath, your voice steady as you murmured, “How about we stop things here?”

Shuhua looked at you, confusion etched across her face. “Stop what here?”

You sighed, trying to keep things calm, even though frustration simmered beneath the surface. “This. Us. Or whatever you want to call it.” Her eyes widened, panic flashing over her face in a way you hadn’t seen before. “W-what? We were perfectly fine.”

“No, we weren’t,” you replied, unable to hide your irritation. “You don’t really like me like that, and I don’t feel that way about you. We’re not even dating,” you continued, watching as her expression changed again. As if she let her mask drop, she caught herself quickly, masking any vulnerability with her usual smirk, her cockiness returning as she leaned back.

“Oh, please. You wouldn’t leave me, Y/n,” she said, her voice dripping with confidence. “You wouldn’t leave what we had.”

You shot her a disbelieving look, letting out a scoff. Opening the car door, you exited, pausing only to lean in briefly. “Watch me,” you said, your voice firm as you slammed the door shut behind you.

Shuhua’s initial shock quickly morphed into a steely gaze as she studied your leaving figure, trying to gauge whether you were serious. “You’re not being serious, right?” she scoffed as she rolled her window down and crossed her arms. “Why now? Just because I’ve been giving Cheuksin shit?”

You shook your head, keeping your voice level despite her accusatory tone. “It’s not even close to being about that. I just… don’t feel it anymore.” You paused, carefully choosing your words. “We both know this was never really… deep. It was fun for a while, but I’m not looking to be an accessory.”

Shuhua’s smirk faded, her eyes narrowing. “So you’re really leaving. Just like that.”

“Just like that,” you confirmed, keeping your tone neutral. You didn’t want to argue or drag this out any longer than necessary.

For a second, she looked almost vulnerable—a rare crack in her otherwise unshakable confidence. But it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by a bitter smile. “Fine. Go then. Let’s see how long it takes before you’re crawling back.” She looked away, dismissively waving her hand as if to say you were already forgotten.

You didn’t respond, merely nodding once before completely walking away from her. You took a deep breath, feeling a strange weight lift off your shoulders. Shuhua’s car drove away without so much as a backward glance, her headlights vanishing into the parking lot.

The roar of engines, laughter, and voices of the crowd drew you back to the Turf Races, and you found yourself wandering back to the main area. You couldn’t help but feel lighter, the tension that had been building in your chest finally dissipating. As you scanned the crowd, your gaze was drawn to Ryujin’s car once again.

Ryujin, still in her seat, hadn’t noticed you yet, her expression intense as she mentally prepared for the upcoming race. She looked calm and collected on the outside, but there was a storm behind her eyes as if something weighed on her mind.

You hesitated before approaching, knocking lightly on her window. She looked up, startled, but when she saw it was you, her expression softened, and she quickly rolled down the window.

“Hey,” you greeted with a small smile, trying to hide the way your heart sped up at her gaze.

Ryujin’s eyes flickered with surprise, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Back again? Thought you’d left with…” She trailed off, realizing what she’d almost said.

“Yeah, about that.” You let out a soft chuckle, shaking your head. “Guess I’m flying solo tonight.”

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if she was taking in every word and gesture. “Well,” she said, her voice softer now, “you’re always welcome here. And… good timing.” She nodded towards the starting line. “Our newbie is up next.”

“Good luck to her,” you murmured, feeling a pang of something you couldn’t quite place as she flashed you a confident smile. She was so proud to show off her protégé and for the first time in a while, the care made you smile. It was enough to make your stomach flip, but you quickly shook off the feeling, stepping back as she revved her engine.

Ryujin nodded once, her usual cool returning as she focused on the race. As Sohyun pulled up to the starting line, you found a spot near the crowd to watch, anticipation building as you leaned against the barrier. The crowd’s energy buzzed around you, but all you could focus on was the dark, sleek Camaro Z/28, and the determined glint in her eyes flickered with the nerves that bundled up.

A girl in some risque clothing walked in the middle of the street, holding a red flag and counted them down. As she sees the flag wave down, Sohyun shot off the line, the red car tearing down the deserted street, the roar of the engine echoing through the night. You couldn’t help but feel captivated. Despite being a younger racer, to your knowledge, being a legacy was a big deal in the racing scene. So you definitely need to keep your eyes peeled for her.

The Camaro Z/28 barreled forward, taking an early lead as Sohyun’s focus sharpened. She had a unique style: precise but aggressive, weaving through the tight curves with a confident and raw grace. Every turn felt like a statement—one that said she belonged here, no matter who she was up against.

You could see why Ryujin had taken her under her wing. There was a familiar intensity in how Sohyun handled herself on the track, a hunger that reminded you of what you heard about Ryujin in her early days—relentless, almost reckless, but with an undercurrent of something deeper. Pride, maybe. A desire to prove herself.

The crowd roared as she maneuvered around a particularly sharp turn, her tires screeching as she held control like a pro. You found yourself smiling, a genuine admiration bubbling up as you watched her push the limits of her car and her own nerves. Something was refreshing about it, watching someone new pour their heart into the race, unburdened by the rivalries and egos that clouded the rest of the scene.

The groups track was around the area and quite shorter, giving you a good view of everyones skills. It was down the road, into the parking lot where they’d have to reach to the top, come back down, lap through a different street, and come back. A drone that had a camera would follow so when the track got further, everyone would be able to watch on their phones.

You glanced over at Ryujin, whose eyes were glued to the track as she held her phone tightly, her expression intense but glowing with pride. She didn’t look at you, but you could sense the connection between her and her protégé—a mentor’s pride that softened her usually tough exterior.

The race stretched, and the gap between Sohyun and the other racers widened. You noticed Yeonjun, notorious for his cutthroat tactics, trying to close in on her, his car creeping up at an alarming speed. But Sohyun held her ground, skillfully blocking him, anticipating his moves. You could see Yeonjun getting frustrated, tapping his fingers impatiently on his steering wheel.

As the racers get deeper into the track, you pull up the stream on your phone, watching every cars movement as best as possible. Then, almost predictably, Yeonjun attempted to close the gap with one of his signature dirty tricks—clipping the edge of Sohyun’s car just enough to throw her off balance.

But Sohyun, sharp and resilient, managed to stabilize, shifting gears quickly to compensate. She didn’t flinch, her focus unwavering, and she sped up, leaving Yeonjun behind with a furious glare. The crowd’s energy erupted as Sohyun soared toward the finish line, crossing it with a triumphant roar from her engine.

She had won. The cheers drowned out everything else, filling the night air with an infectious exhilaration. You found yourself grinning, almost surprised by how invested you’d become in her victory. But then, you felt someone’s gaze on you and looked over to see Ryujin watching, a satisfied smirk on her face.

“Not bad for a ‘newbie,’ huh?” she said, her tone both teasing and proud.

You chuckled, nodding. “Guess she’s full of surprises.”

As Sohyun stepped out of her car, greeted by thunderous applause and pats on the back from fellow racers, you saw a spark of something bright in her eyes. Ryujin made her way over, pulling her into a side hug, whispering something that made Sohyun’s face light up. It was a warm moment—a rare one for Ryujin, who tended to keep her emotions tightly under wraps.

After Sohyun’s thrilling race against Yeonjun, the crowd was buzzing with adrenaline and chatter about her victory. You congratulated her again, catching the smile that hinted at something more, a small flicker that made your heart stutter. As you exchanged a few words, you noticed Shuhua’s gaze, dark and unreadable from across the track. She hadn’t moved closer, hadn’t even pretended to hide her irritation, and the silent tension simmered in the air like a storm waiting to break.

Just then, the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers, “Alright, folks! Up next the leader race! This is the one everyone’s been waiting for. Alleyways, sharp turns, open highways – you know what it means! Get ready for Ryujin, Shuhua, Johan, and Breeze!”

All eyes turned to the starting line as the crowd buzzed with fresh anticipation. A drone zipped into position above the track, hovering like a spectator ready to capture every move, every maneuver. Ryujin pulled her purple Mustang Shelby GT350R up to the line, its sleek body gleaming under the lights, while Shuhua’s car sidled up next to hers, engine growling with an intensity that matched her own unrelenting energy.

The flag girl took her place, each step deliberate as she raised their flags, drawing cheers and shouts from the crowd. Your gaze drifted back to Sohyun’s Camaro parked just off the line, a reminder of her quiet but fierce skill. She caught your eye for a brief moment, her calm presence an anchor amid the chaotic excitement.

And then—the flags dropped.

With a deafening roar, Ryujin and Shuhua’s cars, beside the two others, shot forward, leaving a cloud of dust and the roar of engines in their wake. The drone followed close behind, streaming the race live to the crowd gathered around screens and phones, and every heart raced with them.

As the cars tore through the narrow alleyways, Ryujin held precise control, her hands gripping the wheel firmly, while Shuhua was fierce, pushing forward with aggression. She taunted Ryujin, nudging close to her bumper, then trying to overtake her on every sharp turn, leaving no room for mistakes. Ryujin kept her cool, but you could see the tension etched in her jaw each time Shuhua’s car swerved dangerously close.

The crowd gasped as Shuhua attempted a risky move on a sharp curve. She nearly clipped Ryujin’s Mustang, her car jolting slightly with the force, but Ryujin held steady, her focus evident. The highway stretch came up, and they accelerated side-by-side, a blur of purple and dark metal under the streetlights, as the drone struggled to keep pace.

But Shuhua’s relentless aggression eventually worked against her. In her haste to push ahead, she miscalculated on a hairpin turn, skidding too wide. Ryujin seized the moment, her Mustang gliding forward in a flawless maneuver that left Shuhua behind, forced to regain control as Ryujin sped through the final straight.

The crowd erupted as Ryujin crossed the finish line first, her Mustang roaring in victory while Shuhua’s car coasted in moments later. Applause and cheers echoed, and Ryujin climbed out, raising an arm with a confident grin, though her eyes searched the crowd until they found yours.

The look she gave you was unmistakably triumphant, but Shuhua’s dark gaze lingered on you from the sidelines, the subtle resentment now impossible to ignore.

“Celebration at Cheuksin’s usual spot. You coming?” Ryujin asks you, as she walked closer with a proud smile on her face.

As the cheers erupted for Sohyun and Ryujins’s victory, you noticed Shuhua glaring from across the lot, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, jaw clenched. She leaned against her car, eyes narrowed in your direction, her expression a mix of irritation and something sharper—betrayal, maybe. It was clear your choice to congratulate Sohyun and Ryujin with a triumphant look on your face, Cheuksin racers, had struck a nerve.

You tried to ignore her, focusing on the buzz of the crowd, but Shuhua’s stare felt like a weight on your chest. When her car door slammed shut, you couldn’t help but glance back at her. She was watching as Ryujin pulled you into the fold, her gaze seething with resentment. A knowing smirk played on Ryujin’s face as she noticed, clearly enjoying the fact that you’d chosen her side over Djinn’s tonight.

Shuhua didn’t bother hiding her irritation, stepping forward with quick, almost hostile strides, stopping just shy of where you stood. “So this is what you’re into now?” she asked, her voice low but laced with disdain. “Congratulating the enemy?”

The bitterness in her tone caught you off guard. You’d expected her to be angry, but this was something else—pettiness. You squared your shoulders, keeping your expression neutral as you met her gaze.

“It’s not about sides, Shuhua. Sohyun earned a win against Yeonjun, and she won against you fair and square. I’m just giving credit where it’s due.”

Her lips twisted into a scowl, her eyes flashing with anger. “Funny. Didn’t see you applauding anyone on our team like that. Maybe I should’ve guessed you’d switch sides eventually.”

You opened your mouth to reply, trying to express that it was your first time at a Turf Race since your brother's time, but the sound of Ryujin’s voice interrupted. “Problem here, Shuhua?” Ryujin’s tone was cool, almost mocking, as she leaned casually against Sohyun’s car. Her gaze drifted between the two of you, and you could see the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Shuhua’s eyes narrowed further, her posture stiffening. “Nothing that concerns you, Ryujin.”

“Right.” Ryujin pushed herself off the car, raising an eyebrow. “Then maybe you should get going. You’ve got a lot of angry teammates waiting for you over there.”

For a moment, it seemed like Shuhua was going to retaliate, but she only gave a scoff, her glare burning holes into you. She took a step closer, her voice barely more than a whisper, but her words were sharp enough to cut. “Fine. Go ahead, get cozy with Cheuksin. But don’t come running back when things go south.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel, her car roaring to life a moment later. She drove off, her headlights cutting through the dark as she disappeared into the night.

The sound of her car receding left a strange emptiness, but at the same time, you felt lighter, as if her departure had freed you from some invisible weight. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension, but Ryujin’s eyes were on you, her smirk turning into something softer.

“Guess she didn’t take that well,” she said, an amused glint in her eye.

“Guess not,” you replied, managing a wry smile. “But I didn’t expect her to, anyway.”

Ryujin’s expression softened just a bit. “You know, you’re always welcome here. Djinn doesn’t seem to appreciate what they’ve got, anyway.”

“Yeah, well…” You let out a small chuckle, trying to keep the mood light. “Guess I’m flying solo tonight.”

Ryujin’s gaze lingered on you, searching your face as if trying to read something in the expression you didn’t realize you were wearing. “Well,” she said, her voice softer now, “I’m glad you’re here. It’s been a while since we’ve had anyone new rooting for us.”

She nodded toward the starting line where Sohyun was grinning with some other Cheuksin racers. You felt a warmth in her words that you hadn’t felt from Djinn in a long time—a genuine sense of belonging that had been missing.

After a beat, you gave a small nod. “That invitation, by the way, I’ll come with.”

Ryujin’s smile grew, a rare, unguarded one that softened her whole expression. “Good. We’ll save you a spot.” She gave you a casual, two-finger salute before heading off toward Sohyun, her energy as bright as the streetlights that lined the makeshift track.

As you watched them go, you felt a sense of belonging you hadn’t felt in a long time, even if only for the night. And maybe, just maybe, this was a new beginning—a fresh start in a world as thrilling as it was ruthless.

Ryujin’s offer lingered in your mind as you climbed into the passenger seat of her Mustang. The engine hummed beneath you, the low rumble almost soothing as the night air washed over you through the open windows. Silence settled between you both for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. Instead, it felt oddly comfortable, like the two of you had known each other for a long time.

As she shifted gears, Ryujin glanced over at you. “So, if you don’t mind me asking… what’s your story? I mean, everyone here’s got one, right?”

You hesitated, not out of reluctance but because it was rare that anyone wanted to know about your life in Incheon. “It’s… not much, really. I grew up in Incheon with my older brother, Jeon Wonwoo. He owned a mechanic shop where I work.”

Ryujin’s eyes lit up with recognition. “Wait, that Wonwoo? The racer who used to sweep the Incheon street race scene in 2010 and 11?”

You chuckled softly, nodding. “Yep, that’s him. He’s a legend in his own right. He started teaching me to drive when I was thirteen. It was mostly just us. Our parents… well, my mom wasn’t around much, and my dad left when I was a kid.”

Ryujin’s expression softened, and she seemed to choose her next words carefully. “I didn’t know. I mean, everyone talks about how tough Djinn racers are, but… sounds like you’ve had to be strong for a while.”

You shrugged, smiling to break the heaviness of the conversation. “Guess I have. I wasn’t ever really a part of Djinn. I raced a little since it was a way to keep close to Wonwoo—and stay sane. We kept to the Incheon territory, though. Only moved closer to Seoul recently, just about half an hour away from his shop.”

Ryujin let out a low whistle, clearly impressed. “You’re full of surprises.”

The atmosphere was exciting when you arrived under the bridge—a secluded spot by the river where Cheuksin’s celebrations were already underway. A few makeshift tables were set up with snacks and drinks, laughter and conversation echoing in the open space. The crew was relaxed, celebrating Sohyun’s recent win and Ryujin’s victory over Shuhua. You felt eyes on you as you joined the group, but it wasn’t the judgmental kind; it was welcoming, curious, and like they were excited to have you here.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drawn toward Sohyun more than anyone else. Sure, you couldn’t deny how insanely hot she was, her dark eyes reflecting the night lights with a gleam that seemed to have its own gravitational pull. But there was something else, something deeper about her that you found irresistible—like the way her laughter sounded so genuine, effortlessly soft and warm, or the way her smile reached her eyes, giving her a look that was both tough and vulnerable. It felt rare, almost raw, and you found yourself wanting to know more, drawn to that spark of authenticity.

You both seemingly found your way to a quieter spot under the bridge, away from the noise of the crew’s celebration, and found a spot to sit near the edge where a thin stream of water reflected the glow of the city. The muffled sounds of Cheuksin’s laughter and music drifted over, but it felt like you were in a different world with her. She kicked a stray pebble into the water, watching it ripple across the surface. Her gaze grew distant, and thoughtful, and after a moment, she began to share a piece of herself with you.

“My dad was a racer, too,” she said, her voice soft, filled with both pride and sadness. “He was a legend in Cheuksin. He wasn’t just some guy who raced; he was… someone people really looked up to. People here still talk about his driving—how he could handle sharp turns without flinching, how he somehow always knew when to make his move. It was like he had a sixth sense for the road.”

Her eyes drifted down, and a faint smile touched her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “When he passed… well, it felt like everything changed. It felt like I had to carry on that legacy, you know? Like I had this responsibility to him, to keep his memory alive by doing what he taught me.” She paused, her fingers trailing over the pavement as if drawing strength from it. “He was the reason I even fell in love with racing. It was never just a sport to him. It was life.”

You could feel the weight of her words as she spoke, and you found yourself moved by the quiet passion and pride she held for her father. At that moment, you could almost see her as the little girl who looked up to a hero, chasing his shadow on the track, trying to fill the shoes he’d left behind. There was a part of you that felt a pang of envy, a longing for the kind of bond she’d had—a parent who was present, who inspired something so profound in her.

You gave a small, understanding nod. “I can’t say I know exactly how you feel, but… I get it. My brother, he’s the one who taught me everything I know about cars, about driving. He’s… he’s my family, my reason for even being here. But it sounds like your dad was really special, Sohyun. Not everyone gets that kind of relationship.”

Her gaze softened as she looked at you, and for a moment, you could swear her eyes held the tiniest shimmer of tears that she quickly blinked away. “Thanks, Y/n. It’s nice… having someone who gets it.”

You nodded, feeling a twinge of something you couldn’t quite name—maybe it was a sense of admiration mixed with envy. “I get that. My brother’s the reason I’m here, too. He taught me everything. I mean, I guess we’re both following in someone’s footsteps.”

She tilted her head, studying you with a softness that made your heart race. “Why don’t you race more, then? I mean, you were taught by someone amazing. You have to be good.”

You looked out over the water, her question hanging between you. “Honestly? I don’t know. Maybe… I just haven’t found the right people to race with yet.”

The answer seemed to satisfy her, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Well, Cheuksin’s not so bad, right?”

You laughed, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Not at all.”

As the hours passed, you found yourself mingling with the rest of the crew, exchanging stories and laughter. Jaemin sat near Ryujin, loosening up a little because of the tiny pinch of liquid courage he had. Jay and Jake kept the atmosphere lively, sharing wild race stories that had everyone cracking up. Ryujin stood back, watching you integrate seamlessly, a small, proud smile on her face.

At one point, you approached her, raising a half-full cup. “You’ve got a good crew, Ryujin. They’re something else.”

She clinked her cup against yours, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And they like you, too. You know… you’d fit in here better than you think.”

For a moment, her words lingered between you, unspoken possibilities sparking in the space. The night wore on, filled with laughter, shared stories, and the warmth of connection. And as you glanced at Sohyun, who caught your eye and smiled back, you realized that this was more than just another night. It was the start of something new, something that felt like home in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

The smell of motor oil and hot metal filled the air as you leaned over the open hood of a sleek Porsche 911 GT3, tools in hand. The client had told you that the engine had been sputtering lately, and you were elbow-deep in diagnosing the issue. You twisted a wrench on the intake manifold, fingers smudged with grease and listened to the steady hum of your brother’s voice as he spoke from the other side of the car.

"Djinn's really falling apart these days, huh," Wonwoo said, shaking his head with a hint of frustration. He’d been listening to you tell your story with Cheuksin, and he had always had some strong opinions against Djinn. “They’ve always had this attitude, you know, acting like they’re untouchable. But it’s more than just confidence—it’s arrogance. And then there’s Shuhua… that whole situation just proves it. She’s part of what’s turning Djinn into something darker. I’d rather keep my distance from.”

Wonwoo’s gaze grew distant as he continued, his voice rougher, almost fed up. “Back when I first started, Djinn had always been messy, playing dirty every now and then, but they had the skill. Now? They’re obsessed with their image and that tough Incheon reputation like they’ve got something to prove. Djinn’s way of doing things—it just never sat right.”

He gave you a pointed look. “You’re better off where you are now. You need people who will have your back, not those who act like you’re replaceable.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding. “Yeah, well, she and I didn’t exactly end things well, and I think she’s just bitter that I’m hanging around with Cheuksin. Honestly, it feels different there. They don’t just race together; they’re family.”

He grunted in agreement. “Anyway, I’m glad you found people who get it.”

Your brother glanced over, his expression softening. “I don’t get in your business, but Shuhua… I never liked her. She was just wrong for you.” He gave you a look, one that was protective but warm. “Oh, I knew that very well,” you say, giggling as your brother just shakes his head with a smile.

“Glad you got out of it, though. You deserve better.”

You just nodded, letting his words sink in as you leaned over to adjust the throttle position sensor, thinking of the people who had reached out since Turf Races—Sohyun’s soft smile and Ryujin’s confidence among them.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, and Ryujin’s name lit up the screen. She’d texted, asking if you could take a look at her car. Something’s off with it, she said, though you had a suspicion she was also using this as an excuse to see you.

Within an hour, Ryujin pulled up outside the shop in her deep purple Mustang, the engine rumbling smoothly despite whatever mysterious problem she’d reported. She stepped out, her gaze trailing over you as you wiped grease from your hands on a rag.

You were still in your navy cargo pants and a black tank top, your hair a bit messy in a bun, dirt-streaked on your skin. She saw the slight muscles in your arms, as your veiny hands gripped around a wrench.

Her smirk widened, clearly taking in the whole scene. “Didn’t realize I’d be walking in on a dirty Y/n,” she said, eyeing you playfully. “It’s… a nice look.”

“Should’ve called ahead, then,” you shot back with a smile, feeling her gaze linger a second too long.

She only laughed and nodded toward her car. “All right, it’s got a weird rattling noise, but it only happens at high speeds. I thought I’d better bring it to someone who knows her way around a proper car.”

You crouched by the front tire, checking over the suspension. “Let me guess—started happening right after that race with Shuhua?”

Ryujin’s mouth curved into a grin, clearly impressed. “You got it. That girl drives like she’s out to kill people on the road.”

After a quick check, you found the issue—loose bolts in the wheel well. You went to work tightening them, Ryujin leaning against her car, still watching. Her eyes sparkled with amusement and interest, clearly captivated by this side of you.

Wonwoo stepped out of the office as you tightened the final bolt, wiping his hands on his rag. His gaze moved between the two of you, and he raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the energy.

“Ah, so you’re Ryujin,” he said with a slight nod. “Y/n’s told me about you—quite the leader of Cheuksin, right?”

Ryujin’s eyes widened briefly, almost like she’d just met a legend herself. “Jeon Wonwoo, the solo racer of Incheon. You’re kind of a big deal, you know?” she said with a smile, clearly flattered and maybe a bit nervous.

Wonwoo chuckled, giving you a quick look that conveyed a silent approval. He practically sized her up, his gaze landing back on you with an approving nod. Unlike how he looked at Shuhua, his eyes softened, silently telling you he approved.

Ryujin grinned, crossing her arms. “Well, I’m glad she decided to check us out. We’re actually having another race soon, with some Seoul crews next week. It’s a bit of a tradition—a weekly thing for us. What do you say, Y/n? Want to come back for round two?”

You glanced at Wonwoo, who shrugged, his expression encouraging. “Go have fun. I’ll hold down the shop.”

Looking back at Ryujin, you nodded, feeling a spark of excitement. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Could be fun.”

Ryujin’s smile grew, and she extended her fist for a bump. “Can’t wait to see what you bring to the table this time.” She winked, casting one last glance your way before heading out to her car, her gaze still lingering a bit longer than usual.

“So that’s who you're crushing over? I’m gonna have to see this Sohyun girl, too, if Ryujin has some competition.” You rolled your eyes as your brother laughed. Beginning to think out loud, you asked, “What if I raced in Seoul next week? I can also visit Isa and stuff.

Your brother looked at you in surprise as you shrugged, “Why not, right? It could be a fresh start for me. Besides, they aren’t that far from my house.”

Those words you last told your brother that week had you excited. The days leading up to the race were filled with a sense of anticipation that you hadn’t felt in a while.

You had always loved the thrill of racing, but this time, it felt different. It felt refreshing, like the start of something new. It had been a while since you’d felt this spark, and the thought of joining Cheuksin again made your heart race faster than any car ever could.

The morning of the race, you set out for Seoul three hours earlier than you needed to, giving yourself plenty of time to soak in the city vibe and clear your head. You revved up your car—your pride and joy, a classic 1967 Ford Mustang GT Fastback in a sleek black that gleamed under the early morning sun. The sound of that engine roaring to life was music to your ears. The streets blurred as you drove through the familiar roads, heading straight to the city.

Once you reached Seoul, you made a quick stop before the race. It had been months since you last saw Isa, and now that she had moved to the city, you figured it was the perfect chance to catch up. You parked your Mustang in a nearby alley and made your way to the café she owned, a cozy little place tucked between two buildings, its warm lights glowing in the early afternoon.

You pushed the door open, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. Isa was behind the counter, a broad smile spreading across her face as she spotted you.

“Y/n!” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she set down the coffee she was making. You couldn’t help but grin as you stepped up to the counter.

“I know, I know,” you said, holding up your hands. “I’m a little late, but I had to stop by the shop and—"

“Don’t tell me you’ve been racing again!” Isa interrupted her tone, a playful mix of disbelief and amusement. You had caught her up, just a little bit through messages

You laughed and nodded. “Not yet, but I’ve been getting to know some people from Cheuksin. Remember the crew I told you about on the phone?”

Isa raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile creeping onto her face. “The ones you’re crushing on?” she teased, clearly enjoying the situation.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Stop it,” you muttered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. Isa always knew how to tease you. “It’s not like that,” you added, though you weren’t entirely sure she’d buy it. You hadn’t talked about Ryujin or Sohyun much with her before, and suddenly, it felt like maybe you’d said too much.

Isa smirked but didn’t push further—at least not yet. “Uh-huh, sure. So, what’s going on with these two? You’ve never mentioned anyone like that before.”

You bit your lip, unsure whether to share everything. But Isa was your best friend, and she always got the full scoop. After a beat, you decided to show her.

"Okay, fine," you said, pulling out your phone and unlocking it. "Here's Ryujin," you said, flipping through to her socials and handing Isa the phone.

Isa started scrolling through the pictures, pausing to glance at Ryujin’s confident smile in one photo a close-up shot of her behind the wheel of a car in another. Ryujin’s feed was full of racing shots, casual selfies, and posts about her crew. You could tell she had a strong presence.

“She’s definitely a looker,” Isa said, flicking through more pictures. “But, hmm, there's this whole vibe to her, right? I get it, though, girl. I mean, she’s got that ‘don’t mess with me’ thing down… How do you feel about her?”

You hesitated. "I don’t know. She’s intense, but in a good way, I guess? But there’s something... about her. I can’t really put my finger on it yet."

Isa raised her eyebrows and handed the phone back to you. “Okay, well, who’s the other one?”

You quickly scrolled to Sohyun’s profile. “This is Sohyun. She’s a little different, though. Her whole vibe is a lot more laid-back, a bit shy at times, and gets nervous pretty quickly.”

Isa peered at the screen, studying the photos of Sohyun—mostly candid shots, some from races, some from everyday life. Her feed wasn’t as flashy as Ryujin’s but had a more subtle elegance.

“She is one fine specimen,” she mumbles, ensuing a laugh out of you. “She seems more relaxed,” Isa said after a moment, tapping the screen. “I get it—there’s this calm confidence about her. And I can tell she’s serious about racing, too.”

You nodded. “Yeah, exactly. She’s got this whole history with racing. Her dad was a legend before he passed, and she’s been carrying that legacy. It’s... kind of inspiring, honestly.”

Isa leaned back in her chair, taking in all the new information. “Okay, so? Are you gonna be picking one of them?”

You let out a breath, feeling the weight of it all. “Isa, I literally just met them a week ago. How about, I get to know both better before I go feral.”

Isa smirked again, clearly entertained by the situation. “It’s never simple. But don’t let this drama distract you from the racing. You’ve got some big things coming up, right?”

You chuckled, grateful for the distraction. “Yeah, I guess so. Gotta keep focused.”

She grinned, her teasing tone lightening the mood. “Just make sure you don’t let those girls distract you too much. But hey, love triangle or not, I’m all in for the chaos. Go for it, Y/n.”

As Isa started talking about her life in Seoul and her new job, you leaned back in your chair, the conversation drifting, but your mind still lingering on the races and what was unfolding with Ryujin and Sohyun. This was just the beginning, and the more you thought about it, the more it felt like a new chapter was taking shape.

You sipped your drink, feeling the cool sweetness hit your tongue as you leaned on the counter. “Yeah, I’m gonna have to head out to the race in a bit.”

Isa chuckled, reaching under the counter to grab a fresh pastry. “The queen of speed herself coming back. And I can see you getting all excited about this. What happened with Shuhua, by the way? You said something about her in your texts last week.”

You sighed at the topic of her, hearing the name irritating you slightly as you took another sip from your iced latte. "Well, let’s just say I broke up with her then she wasn’t not happy that I hung out with Cheuksin that night. Things got pretty heated between us."

Isa narrowed her eyes, clearly curious. “So to clarify, she’s your ex now?”

“Yeah, she is.” You could feel the tension in your shoulders begone as you said the words. Isa’s gaze was soft and understanding.

“So, you’re really going back to race with them, huh? And you’re excited about it?” she asked, her smile returning.

“I am,” you said with a laugh, finally feeling the weight of the conversation lift. “It’s a fresh start. I get to race, and I get to hang out with people who actually feel like a crew, a family. Djinn? They were never that for me.”

“Yeah, I remember you telling me how messed up they were,” Isa replied, shaking her head. “You’ve been through a lot with them. It’s about time you found a better group of people.”

You gave her a grateful look, feeling her words sink in. “You’re right. Honestly, I think tonight's race will help me figure out what I want to do.”

Isa grinned, leaning against the counter. “You’re going to crush them. I just know it. But, hey, I’m excited to see you get back on track. Just don’t forget about me when you become famous… again.”

“Of course not,” you said, laughing. “I’ll come visit you and make sure you’re not drowning in coffee orders.”

She handed you a snack—a small chocolate muffin, rich and velvety, the kind you couldn’t help but indulge in. “Here, a little something for the road. Go kick some ass tonight.”

“Thanks,” you said with a smile, wrapping your hands around the tiny baked good. “I’ll send you a message later. Maybe we can hang out after this whole thing is over.”

With that, you waved goodbye to Isa, leaving the café with a renewed sense of energy. The city felt different as you returned to your Mustang. You couldn’t wait to see where the night would take you, but you knew this was only the beginning.

You slid into your car, revving the engine as you made your way to the race location, your mind buzzing excitedly. This was your time to show everyone the “old” you.

As you cruised through the streets of Seoul, the excitement in your chest was palpable. The city lights, the neon signs flashing by, the hum of your Mustang’s engine—everything felt busy. The streets were crowded with cars, each one heading toward the race location, and you could feel the buzz of anticipation building with every turn you made. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

This wasn’t just another street race—it was the race in Seoul, where some of the best drivers gathered, and you were about to make your debut.

You reached the location in the middle of the city, an intersection where the hum of engines roared in the night, and the air was thick with the sound of revving engines.

This was on another level. The streets were lined with cars—muscle, imports, classics—all ready for the challenge. Crowds of spectators lined the sidewalks, many with their phones out, recording the race or chatting with friends about who they thought would win.

Ryujin, Sohyun, and the rest of Cheuksin were already there, and they couldn’t help but gawk when you pulled in. The black paint and muscle-car design was a contrast to the newer, sleeker cars around it, but it stood out in a way that made heads turn.

Sohyun’s eyes lit up as she walked over to your car. “You have a Fastback?” she asked, her voice filled with excitement. “It’s… it’s my dream car. Before I got my dad’s car, I used to have posters of this thing everywhere.” Her hands brushed against the hood.

Ryujin stepped forward with a grin. “I gotta say, I didn’t expect you to show up with such a beast. Are you racing tonight?” she asked, her voice teasing but with an edge of respect.

You gave a quick nod, excitement building in your chest. “Yeah, I’m racing tonight. I didn’t come all the way out here just to watch.”

The group watched you intently as if waiting for you to prove yourself. And then Jake, stepped up, an eager grin on his face. “Hey, you racing tonight? We wanna see the ‘famous’ Y/n in action.”

You found his friendly smile endearing and his words fairly genuine, so you were ready. “I’m game,” you said, the thrill of the night flooding your veins.

Everyone gathered around, watching as Ryujin became the flag girl for the race. She stood at the starting line, holding a signal flag with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Alright, you know the rules,” she called out to everyone. “Keep it clean—aggression is allowed, but no dirty tactics. We race fair in Seoul.” She grinned at you. “And most importantly, have fun.”

You gave a confident nod, tightening your grip on the steering wheel. The drone hovered overhead, its camera poised to capture every moment. The countdown began, and the crowd grew hushed, all eyes on the street in front of you.

With a roar, the flag dropped, and you slammed your foot on the gas.

The Mustang surged forward, its engine roaring to life as you pushed it into the streets of Seoul. The roar of the engine, the shifting of gears, the screech of tires—it all blurred together as you tore down the road. The night air whipped past you, but the focus was on the road ahead. The sharp turns of the city tested your skill, but you barely slowed down. You shifted, braked, and powered through every curve, your car hugging the asphalt with precision.

You were so far ahead of the pack that it felt like you were in a different race altogether. As you drifted through a tight corner, the car sliding sideways and gripping the road as if it were an extension of you, you knew the others were starting to realize something—you were no amateur.

The drone followed closely, capturing every drift, every move, as you expertly navigated the tight streets. Pedestrian cars honked as you narrowly avoided them, but your eyes never left the road. The cityscape blurred as you shot through alleyways and highways, your Mustang handling every turn with an almost unnatural precision.

It was a battle of skill and speed, and you could feel your heart racing along with the engine. But as you neared the finish line, you knew you had this. The familiar area near Cheuksin came into view, and you gunned the engine one last time.

You crossed the finish line in a blur, the crowd erupting into cheers. As you slowed down, you could hear the sounds of approval—whistles, cheers, the buzz of phones as people recorded the moment.

Ryujin and Sohyun were already looking at their phones, and as soon as they saw you pull in, their eyes widened. They instantly knew what they had just witnessed. They both exchanged a glance, knowing they were far more impressed than they had been just moments before.

Ryujin’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before she gave a satisfied grin. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. You definitely brought it.”

Sohyun nodded, her expression soft but filled with admiration. “I’ve never seen anyone handle a car like that. You’re something else, Y/n.”

As the adrenaline settled in your veins, you leaned back in the seat of your car, a satisfied smile on your lips. Tonight, you had shown them what you were capable of—and it was only the beginning.

You smiled, feeling the rush of the race still pumping through your veins. “Thanks for inviting me. I couldn’t have asked for a better competition.”

Ryujin chuckled, glancing at Sohyun, then back to you. “Well, you definitely made him work for it. But I gotta admit… you’ve got me hooked. Can’t wait to see what else you’ve got.”

Sohyun nodded, her lips pulling into a soft smile. “Yeah, same here. It’s clear you know exactly what you’re doing.”

As the two stood before you, it seemed as their energies shifted, and you could feel it. It wasn’t the usual camaraderie, the easy banter they had earlier. There was now tension between them—something unspoken that made the silence around them almost too loud. You couldn’t quite place it, but you knew both of them were holding back in a way they hadn’t before.

Ryujin leaned casually against the side of your car, glancing at Sohyun with a faint smirk. “So, what now? Are we done for the night?”

Sohyun didn’t answer immediately, her gaze flicking briefly to Ryujin, then back to you. “I think… I think we’re just getting started.” Her voice was almost too soft, but there was a weight behind her words that caught you off guard.

For a split second, the world seemed to slow down. It was clear. Both of them were feeling something more than admiration. Something that wasn’t supposed to happen—not between the two of them, especially not in this moment.

Ryujin’s eyes flickered, her usual teasing tone replaced with something more guarded. “We’ll see about that,” she muttered, though the edge in her voice made it sound more like a challenge than anything else.

Sohyun stood a little straighter, but there was a softness to her expression, a vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. “We’ll see,” she echoed, her eyes lingering on you for a fraction longer than was comfortable.

The silence hung between the three of you for a moment, tension threading through the air, neither of them willing to break it first. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond, but before you could say anything, a shout from the crowd broke the moment, pulling everyone’s attention away.

As the noise swelled around you, both Sohyun and Ryujin looked away at the same time, their faces neutral but with something deeper lingering beneath the surface. You could feel the shift in the air as both women subtly moved apart, the unspoken competition between them growing stronger by the second.

‘What the actual fuck just happened???’ You thought, extremely confused at what just occurred.

You stood there, caught in the middle, your heart still racing from the adrenaline. It was the first time you had ever felt a distance between them. And for the first time, you couldn’t help but wonder how this would all play out.

But for now, you were the one with the upper hand. You’d won the race. Now, you need to think about what to do with these two.

#❅ ssivinee's fic #kpop gg x reader #itzy ryujin #shin ryujin #wlw #gxg #tripleS #triples sohyun #park sohyun #itzy ryujin x reader #itzy x f! reader #itzy x reader #tripleS park sohyun #triples x reader #tripleS x f! reader #triples lovelution #triples visionary vision #triples vision@ry vision

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slytherinsmuse · 1 day ago

Text

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ Frayed | Theodore Nott ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem! Reader

Warnings: smoking, not proofread, characters are 18+, toxicity, violence

Summary: Anst/Fluff | Theo is trapped in a toxic relationship until a breaking point ignites a bond long overdue.

Word count: 6974

author's note: I wrote this after a dream I had the other night. My dreams have been so wild lately.

Sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, you tried to focus on your breakfast, though your eyes kept drifting to the scene unfolding across from you. Theodore was there, looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else, with his girlfriend firmly planted on his lap, practically wrapped around him. She was all over him, laughing too loud and tossing her hair as if her every move needed an audience.

You felt the familiar pang of irritation as she cut into yet another conversation Theo had been trying to have with Blaise. She leaned in, whispering something into his ear while casting a territorial glance at the others as if daring anyone to interrupt. Theo’s posture was painfully awkward, his shoulders tensed, his gaze dropping to his plate. He gave a few non-committal nods, visibly uncomfortable but too withdrawn to say anything about it. That spark of easygoing confidence you’d always known him for was nowhere to be seen.

Your stomach twisted. This was the same Theo who used to laugh with you at the silliest things, who’d always save a seat beside you at breakfast and swap notes with you during potions. Now, it was like he’d become a stranger. He barely spoke to you anymore, all because his girlfriend had made it clear she didn’t want you, or any other girl, around him.

Across the table, Pansy caught your eye, a look of pure annoyance mirrored on her face. She rolled her eyes, tilting her head toward Theo in silent solidarity. You returned a tight smile, but your grip on your fork tightened. You hated watching this happen—watching Theo become a ghost of himself, isolated even while surrounded by friends.

Just then, he looked up, his gaze meeting yours. A flicker of something softened his features for a brief moment—a hint of the Theo you knew was still there, just beneath the surface. But before either of you could acknowledge it, his girlfriend’s hand was on his jaw, pulling his attention back to her, and the moment was gone.

Blaise’s expression turned sour as he glared at Theo’s girlfriend, his jaw clenching in visible frustration. She had interrupted their conversation just as he’d been getting to the important part, and from the look on his face, he was done holding back his irritation.

He leaned over to Draco, muttering low enough for only him to hear. "How many times has she done this now? Theo might as well be in Azkaban with the way she’s got him trapped."

Draco gave a dry, humourless chuckle, casting a sidelong glance at Theo, who was looking down at his lap, his girlfriend chattering away like nothing was amiss. "It’s getting ridiculous." Draco replied in a whisper. "She won’t let him breathe. Remember last week’s boys’ night? He couldn’t even stay an hour before she was dragging him off."

Blaise nodded, his lips pressed into a tight line. "She’s poison,. he muttered. "And Theo just… lets her. Doesn’t even fight it."

They exchanged a look filled with shared frustration, helpless to watch their friend slowly shrinking under the weight of a relationship that seemed to drain the life out of him. Their annoyance was only half-hidden, and you could see the resentment simmering in both of them, like the beginning of a storm.

Mattheo leaned in, his tone dripping with annoyance as he joined Blaise and Draco’s quiet complaints. "You know what gets me? She just has to be there every single time. Boys’ nights, Quidditch practices—even when we’re just hanging out talking about girls. She practically makes Theo sit in silence while she listens in, like we’re some kind of circus act performing just for her."

Blaise snorted, a bitter edge in his laugh. "It’s maddening. We can’t even relax around him anymore without her hanging on his every move, demanding all his attention like it’s some kind of test."

Draco gave a small, wry nod. "And Merlin forbid we talk about anything she doesn’t approve of. It’s like she’s scared we’re going to lead Theo astray if she’s not there to monitor every conversation."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, casting a glance at Theo, who was currently enduring his girlfriend’s over-the-top attention, looking exhausted and defeated. "She’s sucked all the life out of him." Mattheo muttered, shaking his head. "He doesn’t joke around with us anymore, doesn’t even talk about anything unless she’s ‘approved’ the conversation first."

You could hear the exasperation in Mattheo’s voice, echoing everything you felt yourself. They were right; it was like Theo was a shell of his former self, bound to her by nothing more than her relentless possessiveness. The boys’ irritation was boiling over, their whispers growing just loud enough that you feared she might hear. But they didn’t seem to care anymore.

You did, though, and shot them a pleading look to try and keep the peace. Tensions were already stretched thin, and if something snapped now, you worried it would be impossible to fix. You only hoped Theo could see through it all before everything went too far.

As you glanced over at Theo, the change in him was painfully clear. He looked smaller, somehow. The easy smile he used to flash during breakfast was gone, replaced with a weary, distracted look. He’d gone from being the witty, lively one in your group to barely speaking, keeping his eyes cast down, his shoulders perpetually slumped. It was like watching a light slowly dim.

You took a steadying breath, trying to keep your own frustration from showing. It had become your role, somehow, to hold things together—to keep the peace. If Theo noticed the tension brewing among his friends, he said nothing, perhaps too worn down to add another battle to his day. But with every passing moment, it felt like something had to give.

Yet here you all were, trapped in the stalemate of your seventh year, a tense silence settling over the table as his girlfriend continued to laugh, completely oblivious to the waves of irritation rolling off everyone around her.

Pansy moved seats, sliding onto the bench beside you, her expression a mix of frustration and worry as she leaned in, her voice just a whisper. "Caught him smoking again." she murmured, glancing sideways to make sure Theo’s girlfriend wasn’t listening. "Poor guy’s practically hiding in the shadows just to get a moment to himself."

You sighed, feeling the weight of her words settle over you. It had become all too familiar—Theo sneaking off more frequently, finding solitary corners of the castle to light a cigarette in peace. He’d always been a social smoker, only indulging on rare occasions or during particularly stressful times. But lately, you’d noticed the lingering scent of smoke around him more often, his fingers sometimes stained with ash from hasty, hidden smokes.

"He’s getting worse, isn’t he?" you murmured back, glancing at Theo. He looked pale and worn, a shadow of the friend you’d known since first year. And the worst part? The very person causing his stress was also the one berating him for it.

Pansy nodded, her gaze softening as she watched Theo from across the table. "It’s like a vicious cycle. She’s the reason he’s turning to it, yet she’s the one who’ll tear him apart if she catches him again."

Your heart ached for him, watching the way he seemed to fade a little more every day. He’d once been the friend you could laugh with about anything, the one who always had a clever quip ready or some sarcastic remark that would have everyone cracking up. Now he barely laughed, barely even smiled, constantly stuck in a web of someone else’s making.

As everyone started getting up to head to class, Draco leaned over toward Theo, his voice casual but with a note of genuine invitation. "Oi, Theo, you up for hanging out before the party?"

Theo’s face lit up, a glimpse of his old self emerging as he looked up and started to nod. "Yeah, I—"

But before he could finish, his girlfriend’s hand was already on his arm, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Draco. “Actually, we have plans. So, you can move along, Draco.” she cut in, her tone laced with barely hidden disdain.

The room seemed to hold its breath, Draco’s jaw tightening as he held her gaze. He was clearly trying to keep his temper in check, but his patience was hanging by a thread. With an exasperated sigh, he shot Theo a look that spoke volumes—both an apology and a warning—before reluctantly turning back and leaving the Grand Hall with the group.

Theo slumped back, his expression defeated, all the excitement drained out of him in an instant. He didn’t even bother to argue. You could see the exhaustion etched into his face as he sank lower in his chair, as though he’d expected this outcome all along.

As you walked to D.A.D.A class, you caught Draco’s eye, and he gave a subtle shake of his head, his own frustration mirroring your own. There was a tension in the air that was impossible to ignore, and it was only a matter of time before something would break.

~~~

The usual Friday night Slytherin party was in full swing, the common room lit with a warm, flickering glow as laughter and conversation filled the air. You were all seated in your usual spots on the couches, drinks in hand, enjoying the rare moment of camaraderie that Fridays always promised.

For a while, things felt normal again—comfortable, even. But then, of course, Theo’s girlfriend wedged herself into the group, shifting the entire energy of the evening. The lively conversation dulled as she took over, barely concealing her disdain as she joined in. You could feel the collective irritation settle in, an unspoken understanding among friends that her presence was, as always, unwelcome.

It wasn’t as if the group had a problem with partners joining them; quite the opposite. Each of them had dated at some point, and their significant others were always welcomed with open arms. There was a quiet understanding that relationships brought new energy into their tight-knit circle, and everyone usually made an effort to include them. Some of the best nights had been spent with the laughter of new faces blending seamlessly with their own, adding stories and jokes to the mix without disrupting the balance.

But this girl was different.

She was the first one who seemed determined to force herself in, to overshadow conversations and steal away Theo whenever it suited her. There was no laughter, no blending of energy—just her cutting remarks and possessive glances, her presence casting a shadow over their usual ease. No one could relax when she was around, knowing that any moment of fun or camaraderie could be snuffed out by her biting comments.

It was as if she thrived on control, slipping her influence over Theo like a chain, pulling him away piece by piece from the friends he’d known for years. The group had tried, at first, to welcome her in, to treat her like they would anyone else. But it became painfully clear over time that she wasn’t interested in being part of their lives; she was only interested in controlling Theo’s.

As you looked around at your friends, each of them casting uneasy glances her way, it was obvious that everyone felt it. The tension that lingered whenever she was near, the way the entire room seemed to lose its warmth when she entered. She wasn’t just an outsider. She was the first partner to truly ruin things for them.

Mattheo, who had been rudely interrupted tonight, had less patience than the rest of you. He was midway through a particularly animated story about his latest near-miss with Professor Snape when she interrupted, rolling her eyes and sighing loudly. Mattheo glared at her, barely holding back his annoyance. "Do you mind? Some of us actually want to hear my story."

She scoffed, crossing her arms and leaning back with an air of superiority. "Oh, please. Nobody cares about your stupid stories, Riddle."

A tense silence settled over the group, but Pansy wasted no time in stepping in, her tone sharp. "Actually, everyone but you cares. Maybe if you didn’t make it your mission to ruin every conversation, you’d know that."

Theo shifted uncomfortably, glancing at his girlfriend as if he wanted to step in but was too tired to argue. Meanwhile, you could see the smirk forming on Mattheo’s face, his gaze locked onto her with barely contained satisfaction.

"Yeah." Mattheo added, raising his drink in mock salute. "Cheers to that, Pans. At least some of us know how to have a good time."

His girlfriend flushed, anger flashing in her eyes, but she stayed silent, perhaps finally realizing that the rest of the group had no intention of backing down. It was a rare victory, but it didn’t feel as sweet as it should have—not when Theo was sitting there, staring down at his drink, looking like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Draco let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back on the couch, grumbling just loud enough for everyone to hear, "Well, that’s one way to ruin a perfectly good night."

The comment was sharper than usual, carrying the unmistakable weight of weeks—months, even—of suppressed irritation. He didn’t bother to look at Theo’s girlfriend, who was already glaring daggers at him, her face reddening as her patience finally snapped.

Turning on Theo, she crossed her arms, her voice icy and accusing. "Are you really just going to sit there and let them disrespect me like this? Unbelievable." She looked around the room as if daring someone to disagree, but no one moved or spoke. It was clear where everyone’s loyalties lay, and that only seemed to inflame her further.

Theo’s shoulders slumped, his expression somewhere between exhaustion and quiet resignation. He opened his mouth, as if to offer a half-hearted defence, but no words came. The effort it would take to argue—yet again—was too much for him tonight.

With a huff, she whipped around, storming away from the couches, her heels clicking loudly against the stone floor as she disappeared through the crowds in the common room.Her exit was followed by a heavy silence as everyone’s gaze shifted to Theo.

He let out a long, weary sigh, the sound carrying the weight of everything he hadn’t been able to say. The group was quiet, each of you trying to process what had just happened, but it was obvious that no one wanted to break the silence.

Theo ran a hand over his face, looking down at his drink, and muttered, "I… I’m sorry, everyone."

Blaise cleared his throat, attempting a small smile to break the tension. "It’s all good, mate." he said, giving Theo’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Honestly. No harm done." His tone was light, casual, like he was brushing it all off as if it hadn’t mattered at all. Blaise had always been the type to keep the peace when he could, trying to nudge things back toward their usual warmth.

But Mattheo’s face was another story, his jaw clenched tight as he glared at the door through which Theo’s girlfriend had just exited. He shook his head, muttering under his breath, "I’m getting real tired of this." his voice laced with barely controlled anger. His gaze flicked to Theo, and for a second, it looked like he might say something else, but he bit back his words, stewing silently.

The group sat there in uneasy silence, the usual lively atmosphere muted, everyone nursing their own thoughts. Theo’s shoulders stayed slumped, and you could sense the regret and frustration rolling off him in waves.

Just as the quiet began to settle, Pansy’s entire body tensed beside you. Her gaze was fixed on the far side of the room, her eyes wide. Following Pansy’s wide-eyed stare, your gaze landed on the far side of the common room where Theo’s girlfriend had reappeared, but she wasn’t alone.

Your stomach dropped as you saw her pressed up against another student from your house, their faces close, her hands running through his hair as she leaned in, kissing him with a brazen, shameless fervour. She didn’t seem to care who might see them, her actions loud and clear as if she were making a statement for everyone in the room.

A stunned silence fell over the group, each of you frozen in shock and disbelief. Blaise’s hand slipped off Theo’s shoulder as his jaw tightened, his earlier attempt at easing the mood now rendered meaningless. Mattheo muttered something under his breath, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white.

But Theo—Theo just stared, his face going pale as he watched her with that other guy, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger, mingled with a strange, hollow acceptance. It was as if he’d suspected something like this all along, yet seeing it unfold was a wound far deeper than anything he could have anticipated.

The tension in the room had reached a breaking point, each of you waiting for someone to say or do something, the air thick with disbelief and fury.

Theo didn’t say a word as he got up, his face blank, and headed toward the exit. You could see the tremor in his hands as he reached into his pocket, likely going for a cigarette to calm his fraying nerves. Without a glance back, he slipped out the door, leaving a heavy tension in his wake.

The second he was gone, you felt something snap inside you. Your fists clenched, and before you knew it, you were on your feet, ignoring the surprised looks from your friends as you made a straight line across the room, heading directly toward her.

She was still laughing with the guy she’d been kissing, completely unbothered, until she caught sight of you storming toward her. Her eyes narrowed, a look of feigned innocence crossing her face as she crossed her arms, almost daring you to confront her.

“What’s your problem?” she sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What’s my problem?” you spat, the words tumbling out like fire. “What’s your problem, throwing yourself at some random guy in front of everyone when Theo’s just… just sitting there?” You could barely contain the anger shaking through you. “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to him?”

She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Oh, please. Like it matters. Theo’s been a miserable bore for months. And who are you to talk to me about what I can or can’t do? Jealous, are we?”

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped you. “Jealous? No. I’m furious. Furious that you’ve taken someone who used to be happy and turned him into whatever you think he should be for your own ego.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t know anything about us.”

“Oh, I know enough.” you shot back. “Enough to see you don’t care about him. He deserves better than to be treated like your possession, like some accessory you can throw away the second you get bored.”

The argument escalated, voices rising as the tension boiled over. Each accusation only fueled her anger, and she stepped closer, her voice venomous. “You think you’re so noble, don’t you? Acting like you know what’s best for him. Maybe he’s miserable because you all can’t let go of him.”

The room erupted as you snapped, the anger in you boiling over as you shot back, “You know what? You’re nothing but a manipulative bitch.” The words were barely out of your mouth before her face twisted with rage, and without warning, she shoved you hard, almost knocking you backward.

That was it.

Without a second thought, you lunged forward, colliding with her as the two of you stumbled, grabbing at each other in a flurry of fury. The next moments were a blur of shouts, hands, and the sharp sting of pulled hair and clawing nails as you both fought, neither one willing to back down.

Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, and Pansy were on you in seconds, surrounding the chaos, but looking caught between trying to pull you apart and staying out of the way. Blaise’s eyes widened, flicking between you and the girl as if he couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Draco stepped forward, arms out, calling your name, but the intensity of the fight kept him at bay.

“Bloody hell!” Mattheo shouted, looking between you and Draco, unsure whether to jump in or let you have it out. “Someone pull them off each other!”

Pansy, on the other hand, didn’t hesitate. She moved in closer, her voice sharp and commanding as she tried to grab your arm. “Enough! You’re going to get us all into trouble—stop!”

But the damned bitch was relentless, snarling as she tried to push you away, her eyes alight with rage. “Stay out of our business, you’re nothing to him! Just some desperate hanger-on!”

Fueled by her words, you managed to break free from Pansy’s grasp for a moment, lunging again, but this time, Draco and Mattheo grabbed you by the shoulders, dragging you back as Pansy stepped in between, raising her voice. “Stop it, both of you!”

The door creaked open, and Theo appeared in the doorway, cigarette in hand, eyes wide as he took in the scene unfolding before him. The shock on his face was unmistakable as he realized what had happened, confusion turning to something darker as he looked between you and his girlfriend, who was now dishevelled, panting, and glaring at you with venom in her eyes.

You stood there, chest heaving, adrenaline still surging through you as you tried to regain control. The room was dead silent, everyone too stunned to move, but your gaze was locked on her—bruised, bloodied and dishevelled, glaring up at you with a twisted smirk on her face.

“You think you’re so special, don’t you?” she sneered, her voice dripping with malice. “The only reason why Theo even stays close to you is because he pities you… and your pathetic dead parents.”

The words struck a nerve deep within, unleashing a storm of anger that washed over you like a tidal wave. Before you knew it, you’d pulled out your wand, rage blinding you, the incantation forming on your lips as the words seethed out, “Cruc—”

But before you could finish, a hand clamped over your mouth, silencing the curse in an instant. Theo had rushed behind you, his grip firm yet desperate, his wide eyes filled with panic, fear, and something else—something pleading.

“Enough.” he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. His hand stayed pressed over your mouth, holding you back, while his other hand gently grasped your wrist, lowering your wand.

You blinked, the anger slowly dissolving into a mess of emotions, the weight of what you’d nearly done settling over you. Theo didn’t move, keeping his steady hold on you.Theo glanced around at the group, his expression a mixture of exhaustion, and protectiveness. Without another word, he took your hand, his grip firm but gentle, and led you out of the common room, past the stunned silence of your friends. Draco, Blaise, Mattheo, and Pansy watched, exchanging concerned looks but staying silent, knowing this was something only Theo could handle.

He guided you through the dimly lit corridor, never loosening his hold on your hand as he made his way to his dorm room. You followed in a daze, your heart still pounding as the adrenaline began to ebb, replaced by a confusing whirl of emotions—anger, shame, relief, all tangled up together.

Once you were inside his dormitory, he shut the door behind you both, locking it with a quick flick of his wand. The room was quiet, a soft glow from the lamps casting a warm light over his belongings, the familiar scent of his cologne faintly lingering in the air. Theo turned to face you, his hand still holding yours as he took a deep breath, his expression softened, though his eyes remained filled with a quiet intensity.

“You… you almost used Crucio.” he murmured, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, grounding you, as he searched your face, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened.

You looked down, feeling a wave of guilt rise up, the weight of what you’d nearly done settling heavily on your shoulders. “I’m sorry.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just… she went too far. She’s hurt you way too much, Theo.”

Theo exhaled, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders, and took a step closer, his gaze softening further. “I know.” he said quietly. “I’ve known for a while now. I just didn’t want to believe it.”

He let go of your hand only to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing softly across your cheek, grounding you, as he whispered, “But you… you can’t let her make you into something you’re not.”

~~~

Theo never officially ended things with his girlfriend. There was no formal breakup, no final argument, but it didn’t matter—everyone could see that it was over. She didn’t come around anymore, didn’t dare try to force her way back into the friend group after the scene you’d caused. The bruises you’d left had faded, but the message had been loud and clear, and it seemed she’d finally accepted it.

You’d earned yourself a month of detention for the fight, and though the professors had given you disappointed looks and stern lectures, none of it fazed you. You took the punishment with a sense of pride, wearing it like a badge of honour. If you had to do it all over again, you would. Theo’s well-being, his freedom, had been worth every second spent scrubbing cauldrons and rewriting parchments under Filch’s glare. You weren’t ashamed for putting her in her place; she’d deserved it and more.

The only lingering regret was that split-second decision to pull your wand, to nearly utter the curse that could have changed everything. That was the one thing that weighed on you, the reminder that, in your anger, you’d almost let her bring out the darkest part of yourself. But Theo had stopped you, pulled you back from the edge. And in the quiet moments of your detentions, it was that thought that lingered, his hand on yours, his voice steadying you when you’d needed it most.

Since then, Theo had been… different. Freer, lighter, as though the weight he’d been carrying had finally lifted. He didn’t say much about what had happened, but he was around you constantly, seeking you out, sitting beside you in classes and at meals, sharing quiet moments without needing to speak.

He never said it directly, but in the way he looked at you, the way he stayed close, it was clear. You’d been there for him when he’d needed it most, and he wasn’t about to forget it.

As the weeks passed, the group’s dynamic began to shift back to normal, the heaviness that had hung over everything finally starting to lift. The familiar laughter and banter returned, the camaraderie that had once been the foundation of your friendship rekindled. It felt like everyone could breathe again, like the unspoken tension had finally evaporated, taking with it the gloom of Theo’s toxic relationship.

The others hadn’t let you off easily, though. Ever since that night, they’d given you a new nickname, a playful jab that seemed to stick—“The Hitman.” Whenever you entered a room, Mattheo or Blaise would grin and say something like, “Look out, the Hitman’s here. Better watch what we say.” Draco would give you a mock salute, pretending to be wary of your next move, and Pansy would pat you on the shoulder, shaking her head with a smile and muttering, “Our very own bodyguard.”

They teased you relentlessly, but you didn’t mind. If anything, it filled you with a quiet pride. You’d earned it, and knowing they’d all be just as protective over you, had the situation been reversed, only strengthened the bond between you all.

Theo, meanwhile, seemed to have thrown himself back into Quidditch with renewed energy. Every practice was more intense, every play sharper. He channelled all his frustration, all the months of suppressed anger, into the pitch, his focus like a laser. Theo was back to being the friend you remembered—driven, concentrated, locked in on his own priorities, and finally unburdened. Watching him fly across the field with that fierce determination, you knew he was ready to leave the past behind.

And as he trained, you couldn’t help but notice the small glances he’d send your way after a particularly successful practice. When he’d make an impressive play, his gaze would drift toward the stands, where he knew you were watching, his grin just a bit wider when he caught your eye. It was as if he was finally himself again—fierce, focused, and free.

~~~

The final match of the season had the entire school buzzing, and you and Pansy stood shoulder to shoulder in the stands, bundled against the brisk wind, your hearts pounding with excitement. The atmosphere was electric, green and silver flags waving wildly in the air, cheers rising like waves as the players took their positions on the field. The Slytherin team was locked in, each player’s gaze fierce, and at the centre of it all was Theo—focused, determined, every bit the player you’d always believed he could be.

From the first whistle, the match was intense, a flurry of movement as players darted back and forth, Quaffles flying, Bludgers smashing through the air. Every play had you and Pansy gasping or shouting, barely able to stay still as the score climbed steadily, each team battling for dominance. Gryffindor’s Chasers were relentless, pressing the Slytherin defence with an intensity that sent chills through the stands.

As Gryffindor advanced toward the goal, weaving past Slytherin players with almost frightening speed, your heart raced. Theo was there, hovering near the posts, watching, waiting. The Gryffindor Chaser drew closer, feinting left before taking a sharp turn to the right, raising his arm to shoot. You held your breath, fingers digging into the railing as the Quaffle hurtled toward the left hoop, aimed with deadly precision.

But Theo was faster. With a sudden, powerful lunge, he darted across the goal, stretching his arm out just in time to deflect the Quaffle. The impact echoed across the pitch, and for a split second, everything was still. Then, the Slytherin section of the stands erupted in cheers, and you and Pansy screamed, jumping up and down, adrenaline surging through you.

“Yes! Did you see that?” Pansy shrieked, grabbing your arm as she laughed in pure exhilaration. “He saved it! He actually saved it!”

Your eyes were locked on Theo, who was grinning, his face flushed with triumph as he exchanged a brief look with Draco, who had already positioned himself higher above the pitch. The save had disrupted Gryffindor’s formation, and in the split second of chaos, Draco seized his chance, his eyes fixed on a flash of gold darting across the field.

“Go, Draco!” you shouted, your voice barely audible over the crowd’s roar. Your hands were clenched, and Pansy was beside herself, both of you leaning so far over the railing that you might as well have been on brooms yourselves.

Draco was a blur as he sped after the Snitch, his eyes narrowed, his entire body angled forward with singular purpose. Gryffindor’s Seeker was close behind him, pushing hard to catch up, but Draco had the lead, his broom slicing through the air as he reached out, his fingers grazing the Snitch’s fluttering wings.

“Come on, come on…” Pansy muttered, clutching your arm as you both watched, barely daring to breathe.

With a final lunge, Draco’s hand closed around the Snitch, raising it triumphantly in the air. The crowd erupted, the Slytherin side a sea of celebration as students cheered, shouted, and hugged. You and Pansy screamed, the exhilaration almost overwhelming, watching as Theo and the other Slytherin players surrounded Draco, lifting him onto their shoulders, their faces bright with victory.

Before you knew it, the entire house was rushing down to the pitch, flooding onto the field in a wave of green and silver. You and Pansy exchanged a breathless look before joining the charge, weaving through the ecstatic crowd, eager to congratulate the team.

The players were already on the ground, grinning, shouting, their faces flushed with victory as they clapped each other on the back. Theo, Blaise, Mattheo, and Draco stood in the middle of it all, surrounded by the crowd, practically lifted off their feet by their housemates’ enthusiasm.

You and Pansy finally pushed through, laughing as you spotted Theo first, his hair messy and his cheeks pink, looking more alive than you’d ever seen him. Without a second thought, you wrapped him in a hug, feeling his arms come around you tightly, the two of you sharing a moment of pure celebration, all the weight of the past weeks forgotten in the euphoria.

“You were amazing, Theo!” you shouted over the noise, pulling back to meet his eyes. His grin was wide and genuine, the happiness in his expression infectious.

“Only because I had the best fans cheering me on.” he replied with a wink, his voice filled with excitement.

Pansy immediately pulled Draco into a hug, shouting something about how he’d almost given her a heart attack with that final dive for the Snitch. Draco laughed, hugging her back before turning to you, and you threw your arms around him, congratulating him on the catch.

One by one, you and Pansy made your way through the group, hugging each of the boys, feeling the thrill of victory in every laugh, every smile. Mattheo picked you up briefly, spinning you around before setting you down, both of you laughing as he ruffled your hair. Blaise gave you a quick hug, still beaming as he clapped Theo on the shoulder, their shared pride shining through.

The air buzzed with joy and triumph as the celebration continued on the field, the Slytherin house united in victory, the players and friends all caught up in the moment, letting the adrenaline and happiness wash over them. This was the kind of memory that would stay with you forever—the kind of joy that felt limitless, boundless, and for a moment, everything was perfect.

As the crowd began to move off the pitch, heading back to the Slytherin common room with laughter and celebration echoing through the night, you felt a gentle tug on your arm. Turning, you found Theo beside you, his hand lingering on your wrist as he subtly pulled you back from the group. His expression was warm, his eyes softened with something quieter than the exhilaration of the victory, and your heart skipped a beat as you slowed to match his pace.

The others drifted ahead, too wrapped up in their own excitement to notice the two of you hanging back. Theo glanced around, making sure no one was watching, before he looked at you with a faint smile.

“I wanted to thank you.” he said, his voice low, barely audible over the lingering noise of celebration. “For everything. Not just for tonight.”

You felt a warmth spread through you as he spoke, his words carrying a weight that went beyond the game, beyond the victory. It was about everything that had happened—the support, the fight, the loyalty you’d shown him through the toughest moments.

“You don’t have to thank me,. you replied softly, smiling up at him. “I’d do it all over again if I had to.”

Theo’s eyes held yours, something unspoken passing between you. Then, without another word, he pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with a warmth and familiarity that felt like home. You could feel his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, and for a brief moment, the rest of the world faded away.

As he pulled back, his face close to yours, he hesitated, his gaze flickering to your lips for the briefest of seconds before he looked away, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks. Clearing his throat, he grinned, the moment of vulnerability passing as he nodded toward the path ahead.

For a brief second, a tense, awkward silence settled between you, each of you unsure of what to do, the unspoken tension hanging heavy in the cool night air. You could feel your pulse racing, your heart hammering with the anticipation that had been building for what felt like ages.Theo cleared his throat, looking away for a moment as if to collect himself, but when he glanced back at you, his eyes lingered, conflicted yet intent. As if deciding all at once, he leaned in, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek, and before either of you could think twice, his lips brushed softly against yours.

The kiss was brief but electric, a quiet intensity that sent a thrill through you, leaving you breathless. But just as you began to process what was happening, he pulled back, his hand falling to his side as he looked down, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and guilt.

“I… I’m sorry.” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have— I didn’t mean to—”

You could see the regret in his eyes, the way he seemed to be bracing himself for your reaction, almost ashamed. He looked ready to pull away, to distance himself again. You felt a surge of determination rise within you. You couldn’t let him pull away, not when the moment felt so right. As he started to step back, you reached out, your fingers brushing gently against his hand, grounding him before he could retreat.

Without hesitation, you leaned forward, closing the small distance between you, and kissed him—slowly, deeply, allowing the tension and emotions that had built up to flow freely. This time, there was no awkwardness, no hesitation, only the warmth of his lips against yours, the steady beat of his heart echoing through the touch.

Theo stilled for a moment, his surprise quickly melting into something softer, more certain, as he responded, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The world around you faded, the distant sounds of laughter and celebration from the common room dimming as you both gave in to the kiss, the barriers that had held you apart finally breaking down. The kiss deepened, a magnetic pull drawing you closer until the world outside that moment ceased to exist. Theo’s hands traced a path up your back, sending a warmth through you that made everything else fade. His lips moved with a gentleness, a passion that left you breathless, a release of everything the two of you had held back for so long.

Somehow, amid the intensity, his Quidditch shirt slipped off, discarded in the haze of your closeness. When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, he paused, his eyes dark with a mixture of affection and amusement as he looked down at the shirt in his hands. Without a word, he lifted it, slipping it gently over your shoulders, letting the familiar, slightly worn fabric settle around you.

The warmth of his hands lingered as he adjusted the shirt on you, his gaze softening as he took in the sight. You looked down, cheeks blazing when you caught a glimpse of his toned chest, the result of years of Quidditch training, each muscle defined and yet somehow perfectly understated. His eyes sparkled as he noticed your blush, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Come on.” he murmured, his voice soft as he reached for your hand. He squeezed it, grounding you back to the moment, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. With a gentle tug, he pulled you back toward the Slytherin common room, the warmth of his presence steady beside you as the night’s quiet secrets lingered in the air around you.

As you and Theo stepped into the common room, the lively energy of the celebration settled into a curious, knowing silence. Every eye flicked between the two of you—his shirt draped around you, cheeks flushed, Theo’s hair slightly tousled. It didn’t take much for your friends to put the pieces together, but no one dared to say a word, their smiles a mix of amusement and silent approval.

Draco raised an eyebrow, shooting a smirk in Theo’s direction, while Mattheo gave you a subtle thumbs-up, as though finally, after everything, a balance had been restored. Blaise’s grin was unmistakable, though he kept his comments to himself for once, nodding at you in quiet acknowledgment.

Across the room, Pansy caught your eye, her own gaze softened with pride and understanding. She gave you a small, satisfied smile, as if she’d known this was inevitable all along. You returned her glance, feeling the warmth of friendship and relief wash over you, grounding you in the moment.

Without a word, Theo’s hand found yours again, squeezing it gently. In that simple touch, everything felt right, all the struggles and tension finally giving way to a peace you’d both waited so long for. You looked around, surrounded by friends who had stood by you both, and for the first time in months, everything felt exactly as it should be.

And as you settled down into the couch beside Theo, your fingers still intertwined, a quiet contentment settled over the room, the unspoken promise of new beginnings hanging in the air.

Likes, reblogs and comments are always very much appreciated! ♡

#theodore nott imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott #hogwarts #theodore nott angst #theodore nott fluff #fanfiction #harry potter fandom #slytherin boys imagines #one shot #theodore nott one shot #theodore nott x female reader #slytherinsmuse

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dark-moonlust · 10 hours ago

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Claimed by the Water Dragon PART 4

Pairing: water dragon x fem human reader

Summary: you are sleeping, tired after caring for your baby dragon. So when your mate hears little Aenon whimper in the middle of the night, he gets up and soothes him back to sleep.

Warnings: safe but since my blog is 18+ as usual minors don’t interact, cuteness and fluff, family warmth, lactating, breastfeeding.

This series is now complete. There is a previous part with smut exclusively on Patreon. Find all free parts here!

It was late in the night. Quiet silence took over your underground home, which you and your dragon mate shared. You now had a small baby dragon as well. Days had passed since your baby broke its dragon shell. Little Aenon was steadily growing, yet he was still small enough to be cuddled into your embrace.

You were sound asleep in bed, nestled up against your lover's huge body. Your cheek was pressed against his soft underbelly, and his wings were delicately folded around you to keep you warm. Strong arms were wrapped around you, keeping you close while he rested. Your baby dragon slept in his crib across the room.

A tiny moan echoed through the quiet room, barely noticeable in your ears but enough to wake your dragon from his light slumber. He raised his head, his ears twitching. Another tiny whine came, more urgent this time. Little Aenon stirred in his crib and whined in the night.

With a hushed sigh, your mate carefully detached himself from you, then tucked your small frame under the covers, and, for someone his size, padded quietly to the cradle. His eyes softened as he looked down at his hatchling, nestled between soft blankets, his small wings fluttering weakly with each weeping chirp. He reached down, his big hand lovingly cradling the newborn dragon, which fit just right in his large palms. But little Aenon continued to fuss, his clawed fists jerking restlessly.

“What’s wrong, little one? Is it your wings? Are you uncomfortable?” the dragon murmured, inspecting Aenon’s wings and body. “No… you’re fine. What is it?”

He paced the room, holding Aenon close and rubbing his back, but the small dragon refused to rest. "What do you need, my fussy little hatchling?"

Leaning against the doorframe, you watched the scene with a warm smile on your lips. You'd heard the cries and awoke to see your powerful partner reduced to a flustered, doting father attempting to comfort your hatchling. You almost didn't want to interrupt—he was so lovely, holding Aenon with such care, his blue eyes overflowing with love and concern.

“Nothing’s wrong, my love,” you finally stepped forward, “our poor little hatchling is only hungry.”

Your mate’s head snapped to you, relief on his dragon features. “Oooh,” he said, his voice sheepish. “Hungry. Right.”

You chuckled and crossed the room to him, taking fussy little Aenon from his arms. “Don’t worry,” you teased your mate, “you’re doing great, but this part? I think it’s my turn.”

“Our son’s a hungry little rascal,” your mate grinned, his sharp teeth flashing. “You fed him but an hour ago.”

“Well, he is a newborn dragon and I have more than enough milk—”

“For us both?” Your mate teased and laughed when you gently slapped him.

“You’ve grown far too greedy, mate,” you said as little Aenon fumbled with your clothes, impatient for his meal.

Your mate scooped you back into bed and watched you prepare to feed your hatchling. He eagerly assisted, as he always did because your tiny dragon was still too small to latch properly on your breast. So your dragon mate gently cradled your mound in his palm, guiding the hatchling to feed from your leaking nipple.

Your mate looked so smug at every feeding. It was his favourite pastime.

"Gods, I wish he never stopped feeding so I could enjoy this sight forever," he growled as the small dragon latched on, his hungry cries melting into coos of happiness.

You chuckled. “Horny dragon.”

“Always,” he replied. “For you. I want to be there every moment, to help you with everything.”

“My love, you are here,” you reassured him with a tender kiss on his snout. “You’re doing so much for me and our hatchling.”

“I wish I could do more. I want our hatchling to know that I’ll always be here for him and his mother, no matter what.”

“And he will know that,” you whispered, eyes shimmering with affection. “Because you’re the most loving, protective father he could ever ask for.”

Your dragon hummed, watching his tiny son in your arms. “I never thought I’d be this… happy,” he admitted. “I found you and you accepted me, created a family with me.”

“That’s because I love you,” you said kissing your baby’s head before returning your gaze to your mate. "You've already given us everything we need: your love, your protection."

Your mate smiled softly. “And I will keep giving you everything,” he promised. “Always.”

I love how this series turned out. Their family is adorable! I hope you liked it too!! Please let me know what you think! Your support is very important to us content creators!

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forzarma · 2 hours ago

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Between the lines

Lando Norris x Law student!reader

A/N: ok amma just act like i didn’t ghost this app for months and came out if nowhere but here we are ig. Also the Brazilian gp??? What the heck like wild race istg😭

It all started one night in Monaco, on a break from law school. You were on vacation with a friend, celebrating the rare freedom that came with a brief pause in your intense study schedule. A night at the casino was not usually your scene, but your friend had insisted.

After about an hour, she’d struck up a flirtatious conversation with some guy who’d been lingering by the bar. You waved her off, telling her you’d be fine, and took a seat on your own near a roulette table.

That’s when he walked up. Unassuming at first, with that messy hair and a slightly cocky smile that had “trouble” written all over it.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, a hint of an accent in his voice.

You shrugged, amused. “Go for it. But I’m not particularly good at this.”

He chuckled. “Neither am I.”

You exchanged a few more jokes, but it didn’t take long for him to introduce himself, giving you his number in a smooth, unhurried way.

“Lando,” he said, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You stashed the number away without much thought. It was only the next day, when you mentioned the encounter to your little sister over FaceTime, that you realized who he actually was.

“Some guy named Lando gave me his number at the casino,” you’d said offhandedly. Her jaw dropped.

“Wait, Lando who??.”

You blinked, stunned, and then laughed. “I don’t know, apparently he’s famous”

“so it’s lando fucking norris what” she said wide eyed

She rolled her eyes, muttering, “Only my sister would be this oblivious to F1 drivers. I’ve been a die-hard fan since I was, like, ten, and you meet one without even knowing?”

From there, you let yourself get to know him, intrigued by how normal he seemed compared to the hype you’d suddenly realized surrounded him. When he asked you out, you thought, why not? You were used to focusing on your studies and keeping your personal life private, so it didn’t seem like much would change. But with Lando, everything was different.

Months later, you’d fallen into an unexpected but steady rhythm with Lando. Despite his career, he managed to keep things low-key. Neither of you posted much about each other. Hell, you barely posted anything at all. You were still a law student with a private life, and the last thing you wanted was for the whole world to know who you were dating.

One evening, you were lying on his couch, scrolling through your phone, when Lando turned to you with a sly grin.

“Babe, you know… you’re eventually gonna get caught, right? Someone’s going to snap a picture of us, and then the cat’s out of the bag,” he teased, nudging your leg with his.

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “Oh, sure, because every random person with a camera is just dying to know who you’re dating.”

He snickered, leaning in closer. “Maybe. But you know, it could be kinda nice… to go out sometimes. Like, properly. We don’t have to make a big deal of it.”

You hesitated, biting your lip. As much as you loved being with him, the idea of being recognized—or worse, photographed—made you cringe. Your accounts were private, your life simple, and you weren’t sure how you’d feel about people seeing you with him.

But, at the same time, you knew it wasn’t fair to keep him hidden away forever. So, you took a deep breath and gave him a small smile. “What if we make a deal?”

His eyebrows shot up in interest. “I’m listening.”

“You can have me at the paddock,” you said, already dreading the idea. “But my accounts stay private, no tags, no ‘girlfriend reveals’ on Instagram. I’ll show up, I’ll be there for you but I’m not trying to become some celebrity.”

He grinned, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Deal. Although I can’t promise you won’t end up in a couple of team photos. You know how they love to catch every damn moment.”

You chuckled, trying not to think too hard about what you were signing up for.

A couple of weeks later, you were lying in bed with Lando, scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, when you felt a pang of guilt.

“I never actually told you about my sister,” you said suddenly.

“Oh?” He looked over at you with interest.

“Yeah, she’s been obsessed with F1 since she was like, ten,” you explained, laughing softly. “She’s begged me to take her to a race for years, but I was always too busy with school. Now she’s a full-on Ferrari fan… and she’s probably never going to forgive me for dating you.”

He grinned, intrigued. “A Ferrari fan, huh? That’s rough. Maybe I can convince her to switch sides.”

You snorted. “Good luck. She’s already sworn allegiance to Sebastian Vettel. In her words, McLaren’s colors are ‘an offense to her soul.’”

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Well, in that case, we’ll have to win her over somehow. Why don’t we bring her to a race? I’ll make sure she gets the best seats, full experience,

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “She’d lose her mind. Seriously. Are you sure? Because I can tell you right now, she’d never root for McLaren.

“Absolutely,” he said, squeezing your hand. “If she’s as big a fan as you say, she deserves a proper race weekend. Plus, I think it’s time we officially break her ‘Ferrari-only’ heart.”

On race day, you and Lando arrived at the paddock, and immediately, heads turned. You’d chosen a classic, chic outfit and despite your initial nerves, you managed to keep your cool.

You spotted your sister down the row, and her jaw dropped as soon as she saw you. She approached, barely able to contain her excitement, though she shot a mock glare at Lando.

“Such a shame I don’t like McLaren,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied with a grin. “You just wait. One lap, and you’ll be a fan.”

She rolled her eyes, but you could tell she was thrilled, practically bouncing on her heels as she looked around at the spectacle. She turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief. “You’re really here… at a race. I don’t know whether to thank you or disown you.”

You laughed, nudging her playfully. “I’m still not a fan, if that helps.”

She huffed, pretending to be offended. “I guess I’ll forgive you. But only if you bring me every single time from now on.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of cameras, fans, and the hum of engines. You couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that came with being part of the chaos, even if it meant being in the public eye. And when you saw your sister’s face, completely lit up as she took in every second, it felt worth it.

The relationship slowly became public, just as you and Lando had agreed. You kept your accounts locked down, but fans began to recognize you, and a few photos of you two at the paddock circulated on social media.

Your sister stayed true to her Ferrari fandom, texting you regularly to tease you about your “betrayal.” But every now and then, you’d catch her slipping in a comment about McLaren usually something along the lines of, “Okay, that car looks pretty badass.”

One evening, Lando turned to you with a satisfied grin. “I think we’re doing alright, don’t you think?”

You looked around the Monaco apartment you’d somehow started calling “home” without even realizing it, at the life you’d built together. You leaned over, giving him a soft kiss. “Yeah, I think so, too.”

In the end, you realized you didn’t need to post, announce, or shout your relationship from the rooftops. Being there for each other was enough, even if it meant sharing some of the spotlight.

After all, Lando may have been the one the world wanted to see, but you were his, and that was more than enough.

#Lando Norris x reader #Lando Norris smut #Lando Norris fanfic #ln4 #ln4 x you #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris x female reader #land norrix x oc #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formual one x reader #formual one

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rhiannonsknife · 2 days ago

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oh i am OBSESSED with that detective!r and rhiannon fic... if you don't mind i have Thoughts about it

it's a little different from what you proposed but detective!r who doesn't know rhiannon but rhiannon knows you... she always comes back to the scene of the crime and lately she's been noticing this pesky little detective sticking your nose where you don't belong

so, she does some research. and by god, she's obsessed with you

she's stopped killing people for her own personal reasons - she's completely consumed with killing to see your reaction, the way you curse out the killer under your breath every time you see a new body

when she starts writing your name in blood at the scene, you know that you're in far too deep to go back

to make it even better, you've tried interrogating her. she was one of your most pleasant witnesses and she even offered to take you out to get coffee. the whole time you were there with her, she was so sweet and so kind, offering to pay for both of your orders. she couldn't have anything to do with it; she was just an innocent girl who was caught in the crosshairs of this gruesome serial killer. right? right?

need her so effing bad UGHHH -🪐

— warnings: canon typical violence/dark content. obsessive!rhiannon & possessive!rhiannon. gn!reader. some suggestive content. didn’t beta read (as always).

— a/n: this ask had me thinking omfg.

rhiannon who gets obsessed with you the moment she first sees you.

it all starts the moment she first sees you at the scene of her latest kill. she tends to linger, to watch from afar to see how the investigation is coming along. it’s not like people tend to pay attention to rhiannon’s presence anyway, so she’s comfortable to stay and see what’ll happen. you’re different from the other detectives, she instantly senses that. and, oh, how she hates it -at first. you’re clearly underestimated by your colleagues, despite the fact that you’re much better and smarter than all of them combined. you catch details others are unaware of until you point them out with an intensity rhiannon hadn’t expected. for the first time ever, she feels a thrill from something other than killing.

that night, she spends hours researching all that she can find out about you.

sprawled out on her couch, rhiannon spends hours combing through your social media, any public records, and every small mention of your life she can find online. by the end of it, she knows your favorite coffee shop, the route you take to work, and even the way you laugh, thanks to an obscure interview clip she found buried online. she imagines what it would be like to meet you in a “normal” setting. just two strangers talking over coffee. she imagines all sorts of scenarios, picturing countless ways of how she could get you to notice her. but that’s not enough. she needs more.

rhiannon who starts killing for you.

before she 'met' you, she'd been killing for her own satisfaction the most of all: murdering people who wronged her, people who continue to underestimate her, who pretend like she's not there at all 90% of the time. that is until she meets you. once she has gathered enough information about you and has learned that you are the one who's taking over the investigation of her murder case, she makes it her mission for you to see her. she's consumed by the idea of murdering for you.

obviously, you can't figure out that it's her. but she can still very much get your attention:

when you start to find your name scrawled in blood at multiple crime scenes, your stomach twists. you don’t know if it’s taunting or a bizarre kind of flirtation, but you can’t shake the feeling that this killer has an extremely personal fixation on you. rhiannon finds a sick satisfaction in knowing that she’s the only one who truly understands you. and that soon, you’ll understand her, too.

rhiannon, whose obsession only gets worse.

she starts following you around, whether it's by walking after you at a safe distance or by driving her dad's truck. only being in your presence thrills her. she can't think of anything that's not the next kill and what she can leave behind for you at the crime scene this time. after a while, you start to receive anonymous letters at your home. they’re handwritten, sweet, and yet filled with hints that leave a chill down your spine: each one contains personal details only someone very close (or very obsessed) would know. you start to dread going home alone each night, wondering if the killer is watching even then.

and, still, you're determined to catch this killer.

it's almost like you're just as obsessed with solving this case: you work relentlessly and stay in for much longer than anyone would ever know, sometimes running on no sleep at all just to try and connect the dots that are scattered all across your hometown in from of bloody crime scenes. once, while working late, you glance up from your desk to find somebody outside the station, watching through the window. it's just a silhouette that waves and, before you can react, turns and disappears into the shadows.

she makes watching you from afar a habit she can't seem to shake off:

hidden in plain sight, she watches you work a scene, observing your expressions as you piece together clues she’s laid just for you. the way you curse under your breath or tense at a particularly dark detail excites her; it’s like she’s guiding you through a personal maze, she’s drawing you closer with every carefully crafted move.

rhiannon, who even goes as far as to leave gifts for you right at your doorstep.

they’re seemingly innocent items: flowers, trinkets, chocolates...always with notes like “you looked tired today” or “thought you’d like this.” but you know better. there’s nothing innocent about these gestures; they’re reminders that she’s closer than you think. in one of her letters, she writes: “every kill is for you.” the revelation is twisted, sick even, but the obsessive way she describes her admiration for you leaves you feeling trapped in her gaze. you start to wonder if this chase will end only when she’s taken everything from you. or if you’ll end up her final victim.

at this rate, she catches feelings for you before she even knows what's happening to her:

she follows you on a night out, intrigued by how you relax away from work. when you laugh with friends, she feels a strange jealousy toward anyone who’s close to you. to rhiannon, this outing feels like an unofficial date, watching you from a corner as if she’s already a part of your life. later, she imagines herself sitting beside you, whispering her secrets in your ear, knowing she could charm you if given the chance.

rhiannon, whose obsession which was originally supposed to be a cat-and-mouse game that she was in control over, turns into a sense of possessiveness.

alone in her room, she whispers your name just to hear the sound of it aloud. she fantasizes about how you’d react if you knew she’d been studying you so closely if you knew that every kill from here on out was a twisted attempt to draw you closer. rhiannon, who somehow steals something from you, whether it is by sneaking into your home whilst you're out or by reaching into your purse in passing. either way, she uses it, later that same night, when she's home alone and dares to touch herself to the thought of you. she finds herself almost longing for you to figure it out, to see her completely. she’s begun to view each kill as a love letter, a message only you can fully understand, and in some dark corner of her mind, she starts to believe you might actually feel the same way.

but even that is not enough for her. she wants you to know her. to look at her, without the slightest clue who's really in front of you.

so, rhiannon plays the role of the clueless witness: after a particularly grisly scene, she shows up at the station, pretending to have seen something, and strikes up a surprisingly casual conversation with you. she even convinces you to take a break for coffee: she offers to buy, her voice light and friendly, as if she’s not the very person keeping you up at night.

rhiannon, who starts accidentally running into you.

she begins appearing in unexpected places: your favorite bookstore, the cafe near your precinct, and even outside the gym. she plays it off like coincidence, but you can’t shake the feeling she’s watching you. every “chance” encounter leaves you more on edge, especially as her excuses get flimsier, her curiosity too intense for a stranger. her gaze lingers just a bit too long, and she throws out casual details she should never know about you. but then again, there's no way this innocent woman could ever be responsible for all these gruesome crimes, right...?

you brush off these suspicions, not really believing that rhiannon could be capable of these murders.

and still, during another coffee date (which become a habit between the two of you) she drops a casual line, mentioning a detail about your personal life you never told her: maybe the nickname your family used or an obscure detail about your childhood. when you press her about it, she insists that she read it somewhere or “just remembered” from one of your conversations. but her gaze lingers, enjoying how much she’s unsettling you.

rhiannon, who starts acting possessive over you without really noticing it herself.

out in public, she lets her fingers brush against yours. she’ll throw an arm around you casually, especially when she notices other people noticing. to rhiannon, it’s a game of establishing her claim, marking her territory.

after some time, she finally invites you to her place, claiming she wants to “return the favor” of all your coffee dates.

when you arrive, the atmosphere is too perfect, too staged, with dim lighting and chillingly specific music playing softly. every word she says feels more like a veiled confession, every look a taunt as she watches you grapple with the tension between attraction and horror. it’s not until you see a framed newspaper clipping of one of her murders in the hall that you realize she wanted you here for more than a simple dinner...

#rhiannon lewis #rhiannon lewis x reader #sweetpea #🪐 anon

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mellowyellow236 · 2 days ago

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IVE JUST BEEN ON A BINGING SPREE OF YOUR WORK AND I LOVE IT SO SO MUCH??? YOUR WRITING IS SO CHEF'S KISS????

Its possible could i request for the first year (platonic ortho if you'd like to write him ^^) x reader with the kingdom dance scene from tangled the ost always has my heart pumping and i think its just a beautiful scene all around AAAA

Ahhhh thank you so much for requesting! Sorry that this took a while and isn’t very long, I haven’t watched Tangled in at least five years at this point so it was hard to remember the context behind the scene, especially since I couldn’t find an actual copy of the movie. But you are completely right, that soundtrack is absolutely wonderful! So much so that it’s now the tavern music I’m using in my Dnd campaign. Anyway, here you are! :D

How Would The TWST First Years Act With The Reader During The Tangled Kingom Dance Scene?

GN!Reader x first years, all are meant to be read as romantic except for Ortho’s, but can be read as platonic, too. No TW’s, just fluff. All parts under the cut.

Edit: added tags since I forgot before

Ace Trapolla -

Ace wasn’t excited to come down to town for the festival, so to speak. They lit the lanterns every year, but... Seeing you so happy for it did melt his heart if only a little. And seeing you get a chance to have your hair done by those little girls in the plaza was the cream on the cake. Once you had it braided with flowers and ribbons, you really did look beautiful.

He went away to grab you guys something to eat. He was only away for a second, but by the time he returned, he was watching you start a dance in the town square, inviting in various townspeople. Soon enough, most of the plaza was there. He didn’t want to join in, but he was being pushed into it before he had a chance to comprehend what was happening.

Dancing around, it was easy to see why so many had joined you. You were a great dancer, and it was fun to get to be with so many people. Even so, the fact that he wasn’t able to dance with you until the song was annoying for him. Up until he got to dance with you, of course. Anyone with a brain could see the stars in his eyes.

Deuce Spade -

Deuce loved the idea of getting a chance to take you to a festival. It would be your first one, and of course, he was very excited. So much so that he got a group of girls from the town to braid your hair. Try as he might, he couldn’t do it himself, although he did get you the ribbons and flowers to put in them.

When he went to go grab another thing of flowers for you, this time just for you to hold, he didn’t think twice when he saw you dancing. He dove right in, joining you and the other townspeople in dance, laughing. By the time he got to dance with you, he only had a single flower left, having given most of them away. Although, when he put that one behind your ear, it was clear he had saved the largest of the bunch for you.

Jack Howl -

Jack was too excited, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t want to go. Yes, it was exciting to go to a festival, but he’d already been to many of them. However, seeing how happy you were to go, he decided it was his mission to make sure you got the best experience possible.

However, he still had the ears of a wolf, and all of the loud noises and smells soon overwhelmed him. You two had to take coverage in a small library. He urged you to go back to enjoying the festival, he didn’t want you to stay behind for him, but when you didn’t, he did the next best thing and started teaching you about it. You were in a library, after all, and he was able to read and teach now that it was quieter. And in the end, isn’t wanting to spend time with your loved ones what the festival was all about?

Epel Felmeir -

Epel had been hoping you’d go with him to the festival since he heard about it, and so having you express an interest in it was something that made his day. He loved being able to go to all kinds of festivals back home, and he was sure he’d enjoy having you there for one with him, as well.

His favorite part? Getting to hide behind the wall of a bakery, eating cupcakes as Vil walks around outside of it searching for you two. Did you giggle so loudly you were caught? Yes. But was it worth it as he got to see you laughing, icing on your nose as you two ran through the streets, away from the pastry tyrant? It was. It was completely worth it.

Ortho Shroud -

Ortho was so happy when you invited him out! You two were going to be able to spend time together, and he got to have his first adventure into a festival while he was with you. He even got to make some friends with a few kids, and they taught him how to braid your hair!

And then you got to do chalk drawings together! You made a sun, and he made a drawing of him, Idia, and you. You’re a part of his family, too, and he’s so happy to be able to share a happy memory with you.

Sebek Zigvolt -

Sebek wasn’t excited at first. It was just a boring, human festival, nothing that could compare to the wonders of Fae traditions. But then, he saw you dressing up your hair and asking for help with it, and he couldn’t help but soften up to the idea just a little bit. Even humans could have a good festival or two, especially if those braided flowers are only the first part.

Out of all the first years, Sebek is the least excited to dance, yet also the best at it. Being Malleus’s personal guard, he took dance lessons, in order to blend in to any ballroom and guard Malleus even when he couldn’t be by his side. However, it was always just another part of his training, where he couldn’t even fight… Until you. Now, he’s dancing in the town square with you, hand in yours and one on your waist, mentally wondering how he got so lucky to end up here, with a human so wonderful they can make what he thought of as a boring activity into something beautiful and fun.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst disney #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #duece spade #duece spade x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #epel felmier x reader #ortho shroud #ortho shroud & reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek x reader

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idkvomite · 1 day ago

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Satoru x gn!reader ୨୧ WARNING: Angst. Inspired by Let The Light In because yes. I recommend listening to the song while reading.

You remember very well the first time you crossed eyes with Satoru. That confident smile, the light, loud laugh, the signature black blindfold, and above all, those blue eyes. They reminded you of the ocean, the morning sky, the calm beach days. He was the perfect man. More than perfect. He was your crush at Jujutsu Tech.

Crush?

That word makes you smile to yourself, because the memories of when you were an immature teenager, full of ideas about love, now seem so far away. Like when you used to fall for any TV heartthrob, feeling butterflies in your stomach, not knowing if it was a fleeting crush or something deeper. Shoko would always tell you that you liked every guy in the world, as if it were natural, but that only happened because you hadn’t found someone like him until that moment.

The memories keep playing like scenes from a movie, until finally, that day arrives—the day you spoke for the first time. That dumb mission that left you with a swollen, bruised eye, barely able to walk for days. And he had to save you, like always, with that calm gaze, as if it was easy for him—and it was. Your pride was bruised for needing his help. But, as always, he didn’t seem to care. He was Satoru Gojo, after all. And you, afraid of being seen as weak, found yourself sinking even deeper into a desire you couldn’t even explain at that moment. You weren’t just in love with what he was anymore, but with what he did to your heart, even without realizing it.

Deep down, you always knew he would never be the guy you could have. Never the kind of person you could hold without fear, without wondering what he really felt. Always so distant, so out of reach. Still, year after year, you stayed there, following him, like a spectator lost in a never-ending story. Until he became something more. A refuge, an obsession, an impossible dream.

Until he became your everything.

But now, when you see him there, cut in half, his insides spilling out, and the immense pain still lingering in the air, you realize everything was an illusion. Nothing was real. What was left of Satoru Gojo was just a piece of the man you once knew.

The fight against Sukuna had been brutal. They exchanged blows so strong it felt like the whole world was shaking with each impact. But what couldn’t be ignored was what was in Satoru’s eyes: exhaustion, pain, and the certainty of an ending. He knew he couldn’t escape. He knew it was over. And worst of all, you knew too.

— Satoru... — your voice falters as you kneel beside him. The words slip out, as if hearing his name was the only thing that could make a sound, but he can’t hear it anymore. Satoru Gojo’s final battle was against his own fate, and he lost.

You watch his gaze, still vivid, even with his body torn apart.

— I know — he whispers, his voice faint. — I know, I’m sorry, [your name].

His breathing is irregular, blood seeping from the wounds in his body. Yet he smiles. He’s still Satoru, the guy who never showed fear, the guy who never let anyone see what was happening inside.

— I... — He pauses for a moment, as if the pain is too much to continue, but then he gathers strength. — I know it’s not the right time... but you need to know... I had dreams too.

Those words hit you like a punch. Dreams? The strongest man, the unbeatable one, also had dreams?

You hold his hand, his cold, trembling fingers in yours. He smiles back, but it’s a tired smile, the kind that knows he’s about to leave.

— Yes. I had a dream. A silly dream... of being a normal human. — He continues.

You cling to those words, as if they could keep you grounded. As if by hearing them, you could believe he was still here, still existing. But deep down, you know you’re losing him, and there’s nothing you can do.

His eyelids flutter slowly, heavy as though they weighed a thousand tons. The last look he gives you is filled with something you can’t quite understand, something that perhaps he had kept just for you, something that transcends even death.

— You... will live, right? At least a little longer. — He asks suddenly, changing the subject. His voice falters, but the words come with such a heavy weight, so full of goodbye, that you feel an intense ache in your chest.

Then he smiles again, as if finally surrendering to the peace he had been seeking for so long. But before his eyes close for the last time, he whispers, almost like a secret shared only between you two:

— I love you, you know?

Those words echo in your mind, clearer than anything you’ve ever heard. You can’t respond. Silence takes over, as if the universe had paused just so you could absorb that truth, that farewell. And so, he goes. Without a sound. Without warning. Just silence, and a world that seems to have stopped spinning around you.

You know that his dream of being normal was buried with him. And you, who always got lost in the memories of his blue eyes, now have to find a way to go on without him.

Because in the end, his dreams were more real than you ever imagined. Finally, you understand that the strongest man was just like you—just a human, someone ordinary with his own desires and feelings, someone who longed for something more and couldn’t reach it.

#gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #lana del rey #explore #gn reader #Spotify

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wassupmygays · 2 days ago

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do u have any hc of the significance of pony and soda in the musical having jewelry/necklaces they play w a lot but darry not having any and i noticed when i saw brent is v still when he speaks but soda and pony fidget a lot

i am always fascinated and in awe of the ways actors use physicality to portray so much about the character, and this show is no different. you can definitely look at this both from canon facts and hcs of the characters.

darry, for example, we know through ponyboy's eyes as this rock of a man that doesnt give in to anything. ponyboy is seeing this through his young, upset eyes and just thinks darry is so stuck and strict bc he doesn't like ponyboy. but i also think that is just . darry coping. and trying not to break. brent has said in multiple interviews that he plays darry very still on purpose. partly because, thematically, he is the rock of the family. he is the pillar holding them up. he has to be still and strong. i feel like if he thinks if he lets himself fidget nervously too much, he'll break, and he just cant have that. the only fidgety character choice i know brent does is biting his nails during stressful scenes, which in my heart is a trait darry and pony share (pony does it in the book a bunch)

sodapop, on the other hand, is the exact opposite. i think if he settles down for a moment too long, that is when he breaks. jason understands soda as a character SO WELL every time he talks about how he plays him im just like yea. youre sodapop. anyways he regularly talks about how when soda allows feels emotions, he experiences them in Big Ways. he cries for days, he feels everything so completely. but he cant let himself do that all the time, so he bounces around. he deflects with a laugh. he busies himself with making everyone else feel better so he doesn't have to focus on his own emotions until he can get the time to let himself let it all go. headcanon wise i think he especially fidgets with his dad's dog tags whenever hes gotta try and hold it all together. he's also an adhd king, so even if he isnt trying to distract himself, hes not staying still.

and finally, ponyboy. i think he is a nervous fidgeter. hes also a 14 year old kid, with all of this pent up emotion about his family and his world and wanting more somehow. he has so much inside of him that he just doesn't understand. i don't think he's as hyperactive about it as sodapop, but its still there. hes chewing his nails, hes tapping his fingers, hes playing with his necklace, or hes running a hand through his hair. to me it feels like hes a mix of his brothers; he can't stay still at all, like soda, but his movements are smaller, like darry. him and darry share a lot of the same motions. and also i think writing, movies, and daydreaming is where he gets out a lot of his energy and feelings.

anyways. that was really long. i love you if you read all of that. as you can see i have So Many thoughts about these characters, so thank you thank you thank you for this ask and im sorry it took some time to answer dkfjdkjfkjf. i will always take more asks to talk about these characters and this story <3

#the outsiders musical #the outsiders #outsiders musical #sodapop curtis #darry curtis #ponyboy curtis #ponyboy #the outsiders broadway

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stevie-petey · 24 hours ago

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hi!! can we get a cute fluffy stug blurb to deal with all the angst? your writing is genuinely so incredible i get scared to read a new chapter bc i don’t want to see them suffer but your writing is so so so good it just draws me in completely. I hope you’re proud of come home bc it’s INCREDIBLE i don’t think i’ve read anything related to steve that i love more. and the blurbs?? what else could we ask for omg you’re giving us EVERYTHING

hi dear !! i was savin a fluffy request for when we needed one, and i think after these last few days ,,,, some cute bickering between robin, steve, dustin, and bug is needed.

enjoy <3

"your boyfriends late."

"the bell rang like, five seconds ago."

"hes still late."

robin rolls her eyes at dustin while you shove him off the curb. he yelps in surprise and you snicker. "watch your step, dusty."

"do not call me that." he glares at you, straightening his hat. hes shot up at least three inches since this summer and soon he'll be your height and not so easy to shove onto the street.

"children, please." robin sighs exhaustedly. "i have a four hour shift ahead of me. can we save the arguing for later?"

"she started it!" dustin exclaims, pointing an accusatory finger at you while you point at him and shout, "he started it!"

a car pulls up behind the two of you. "whatever youre arguing about, im on y/n's side."

steve pokes his head out through his rolled down window. hes wearing his stupidly cheesy raybands that youve come to adore. smiling at you, he sends you an air kiss. "miss me?"

dustin thwacks the teens nose, eliciting a very unattractive screech to fall from steves lips. "never do that again."

your brother then gets into the back of the car while you and robin giggle hysterically. she has to clutch onto your arm to avoid toppling over in her laughter. youre no better yourself, snorting with every quick inhale of breath.

"tha' wasn' funny," steve holds his nose while he tilts his head back. hes worried the shithead gave him a bloody nose, but all you and robin can focus on is how nasally his voice is now.

the two of you laugh even harder, and all steve can do is flick you off and pout.

"you guys are assholes." he grumbles, finally starting the car after you and robin collect yourselves.

"im sorry, honey." you press a soft, gentle kiss to the tip of steves nose. "is that better?"

of course your kiss made steve feel infinitely better. but he isnt an idiot. hes aware of the audience in his car. theres no way hes giving dustin and robin even more ammunition against him.

"not answerin' that."

dustin snorts. "oh, so now hes smart not to flirt with you in front of me."

"why are you even in my car?"

"why are you even dating my sister?"

robin raises her hand. "i have an even better question: why am i being driven to my shift that starts in five minutes?"

"thats a great question, robin." your body turns to the one next to you. "steve, care to answer?"

steve waves a sarcastic hand at you, but he pulls out of the school parking lot anyways. you, robin, and dustin cheer. though steves eyebrows are knit in annoyance, you know hes secretly elated as well. its rare to have a day at family video with you and dustin alongside him and robin.

with your shifts at the bookstore and dustins growing fascination with eddie, its nice to just have some time with one another. family video always feels bleaker without the hendersons.

"alright, what has horny heather selected this week?" dustin makes himself at him behind the video counter. long having memorized the systems password, he easily logs into the stores rental catalogue.

horny heather is the name youve given one of family videos most frequent customers. shes an older women with a bizarre fixation for movies with attractive male leads. it wouldnt be so bizarre if it werent for the fact that she regularly rewinds to every single shirtless scene the movies contains.

and every nude scene.

sometimes you hate how much family video knows about its customers.

you plop down next to dustin. "my money is on anything with tom cruise. she seems to have a thing for brunettes."

"and who can blame her?" steve flicks his hair out of his face. "we're obviously the best."

robin throws her jacket at him. "stop drooling over yourself. its unbecoming for a young man."

"dude, you sound like my mom."

"jokes on you. your mom is totally a babe," robin bats her eyelashes at him. "im taking that as a compliment."

steve blanches at this, completely disgusted and offended. he looks at you incredulously. "you hearing this? she just called my mom a babe. thats-thats just so wrong-"

"your mom is pretty hot." you shrug at steve. "sorry, honey. im on robins side."

robin high fives you, snickering in victory. steves jaw drops in pure astonishment. hes speechless. he cant believe youd betray him like this. he cant believe you think his own mother is hot.

dustin looks at the scene before him and shakes his head. you guys are being totally immature. "cmon, guys. thats just wrong."

steve waves his arms out at the kid. "see? thank you, little henderson. god, i cant believe youre the only one here with any sense left-"

"of course, buddy!" dustin smiles wickedly at him. "its silly for y/n and robin to call your mom hot. we all know its really your dad is way hotter."

"what-?" steve gasps for air.

"his broodiness is hot, isnt it?" you grab dustins arm excitedly. "i mean, hes just so stoic. so stern."

robin pretends to faint. "its so... manly."

steve goes to the corner and screams.

which just so happens to be the same corner a poor, old woman is browsing in.

he ends up getting hit with her cane.

its a good day.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #ask #anon #m speaks #come home blurb #set in between seasons 3 and 4 !#m's writing #BRING DUSTIN AND STEVE HOME U COWARDS :((((((#i miss my boys :(#anyways in my head steves parents are total hotties

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kiyo-cant-write · 2 days ago

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post grad floyd visited by jade/azul ✧･ﾟ

This is not a request and is a drabble based on a conversation with @shrimplymoray (hi Moray!!) about JeiAzu and what post-graduation Floyd would be doing. This has no plot or larger fic, it's a drabble/scene.

To followers, remember that Akuma is a multishipper and everything is a multiverse. Just because I write one headcanon for a character or ship for canons doesn't mean it is true in ALL my works. Everything has a time and a place here in my inability to write full pieces.

Summary: A little under two years after graduation, Jade and Azul pay a visit to the Queendom of Roses where Floyd has taken up residence (we assume it is to give a certain goldfish a hard time).

TW/CW: None

Notes: established relationship, canon/canon, Jade/Azul (JeiAzu), post-graduation, future au, this is not a reader insert, implied Trey/Riddle (TreyRid) & Floyd/Che'nya (FloNya)

Guest Stars: None

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

As they approached the address that Azul had on his phone, the octomer wasn't sure he had inputted it correctly. This couldn't be where Floyd lived. This house looked like a teapot. Would Floyd really live here of all places? It was absurd. Azul couldn't compute it.

Nothing in the Queendom had made any sense to him. It was like Heartslabyul but bigger and even more confusing than Riddle had been in school. Why was Floyd even here? Even when asked the other had not given a clear answer. Floyd had some business here it seemed and from what Jade told him this morning, it had something to do with Riddle (who he was still terrorizing even at his age), Riddle's partner, and a certain strange nekomi.

He turned to Jade who was smiling in a way that didn't bode well.

Was Jade aware of something?

"Jade," Azul tried in as firm a tone as he could muster.

"Do you want me to say something, Azul?" the eel asked him.

What did Azul want him to say? He didn't know.

"Would he really—"

Azul was cut off by the door to the strange house opening and there was Floyd, hair long and wearing something that neither Jade nor Azul wished to comment on. There he was, there was the answer. Azul was sure this visit would not be the ideal one now.

Did he even want to know what was going on?

Would it help or worsen his condition?

Sighing, he walked into the house, following Floyd with Jade close behind him. It almost reminded him of Night Raven when they worked at the lounge together, when they had met the strange human who, to Azul's knowledge, was still here in their world.

However, coming into the house? That was five minutes ago. This was now. In that time, they had received a tour of the place against their will (or Azul's anyway, Jade seemed to have fun), with Floyd narrating every object in his house and what its name was. There were rat magnets on the fridge that Floyd had called "ragnets."

That was the final straw.

Azul was not amused and he could tell Jade was withholding commentary just to see him gawk at the odd trinkets they witnessed (there was a life-size cardboard cut out of Vil Schoenheit in there, Jade! Explain that!). But Jade stayed silent no matter what raised brows and strange stares Azul gave him when Floyd wasn't looking.

Finally, there was a pause as Floyd needed to answer his phone. It was surprising but accepted by the octomer who was overwhelmed by the sheer oddity of the situation. It didn't matter who Floyd was calling, Azul would gladly thank them for pausing that.

As he watched Floyd walk into another room in the... teapot, he turned to Jade who looked like he was stifling a laugh. Careful not to draw attention from the phone and back to them, Azul hissed out a whisper to Jade.

"You think this is fun, don't you?"

The octopus was offended, just a tad.

"Oh, definitely," Jade told him, grin widening a tad to show his sharp teeth, "Most definitely, Azul."

Azul sighed.

"…Sadist."

"Masochist~" Jade whispered back.

Standing, they waited for Floyd to come back, with Jade smiling eagerly and Azul regretting taking off from work to visit a friend.

"Maa, Catfish, I don't need you to bring me back anything," Floyd's voice would be heard over the phone, "Eh? Just tell Goldfish work is dumb! That old turtle will help~"

Floyd talked on the phone for a few minutes as Azul and Jade watched, hearing muffled bits and pieces of the exchange as Floyd's voice shifted from calm to laughter to even a serious tone once or twice.

"Just ask that turtle, he knows him best," Floyd repeated to the caller.

"You don't think the person he's talking to is..." Azul half-asked Jade a moment later, trailing off at the end of his own idea.

"Let's find out~" Jade suggested, laughing a little too darkly for Azul's liking (in this context).

"...Today is not going to be a slow day," Azul mumbled.

"With me and Floyd? Never."

Jade wasn't lying, of course. This was completely true. There was never a dull day with the twins, together or separate. Azul knew this. He had known this since he was young. This was his life.

"You're a lot, you know," he told Jade after a moment, though he smiled at him, "You just never stop."

"Oya? Thank you~" Jade grinned for a moment, showing all his teeth before they were concealed once more.

The two exchanged a look and it was decided: today was the day that Floyd would tell them why he moved to the Queendom of Roses.

"Ready, Jade?"

"Of course," Jade replied, taking a step closer.

"Ehh?" Floyd managed as he came back into the room, "What are you two talking about anyway??"

Floyd put his phone back into his pants pocket. And what ridiculous pants they were. Who wears colors so bright? It was like looking at the sun! Or that's what Azul thought. Neon orange and pink. Highlighter colors, truly.

"Get him."

Jade nodded and within a moment, Floyd, who was not expecting this, was grabbed and restrained in the most effective way Jade could. Call it a a show of strength or an attack, Jade was good at it and where they were didn't matter. Jade would hold down his brother in his own home to get information, all in good fun.

The quieter twin thought that this was like that time when they were kids and Floyd took Jade's shell and a fight broke out and... Oops, that's a story for another time. Next time, maybe.

"Who was that on the phone, Floyd?" Azul asked, watching one eel writhe to try and get away from the other, "Someone we know?"

"JADE! AZUL! NO FAIR!"

Imagine the rest yourself! :)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Thank you for reading! Likes and reblogs are appreciated! Do NOT repost my writing/headcanons as your own >:c Check the top of my blog for the inbox status and read the rules before requesting. This is not a twst-only blog! ^^

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supernova-stardust · 22 hours ago

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i have the second chapter of this almost done yall (ideally posting it tomorrow or saturday, fingers crossed!!) the depression has been depressioning and i had some health stuff going on 😮‍💨 here’s a little snippet of a scene i DO have finished though as thanks for being so patient with me

discussion of sui after the break, but it’s mostly lighthearted i swear - 968 words of platonic evan & regulus

Regulus was surprised to find that he was able to focus on writing much longer this morning than he had in a long time. Instead of staring at the screen wallowing at the fact that no words came to him, he was able to write a few pages as the cafe got busier throughout the morning. When someone sat at his table, he was almost able to ignore them with his headphones blocking out the sounds around him and his face buried in his laptop. It wasn’t until he felt a sharp kick to his shin that he even glanced up from his laptop, glaring as he ripped his headphones off his ears.

"Hey—" Immediately, his face softened at the man sitting across from him. "Oh, hey Evan."

"Oh, hey Evan. Are you fucking kidding me?" He kicked Regulus again, this time with more malice. "You act weird for a week, send me some cryptic goodbye text, and disappear for weeks. I had to find out from your brother what happened. And all I get is oh, hey Evan."

"To be fair, Sirius told me he updated you, so I figured you weren’t worried anymore."

"Of course I was fucking worried. You’re my best friend." Evan looked at him with so much sadness in his eyes that it made Regulus squirm under his gaze. "I’m still worried. Barty says I shouldn’t be, that they wouldn’t have discharged you if you weren’t okay, but I know you. I know you know how to manipulate them into thinking you’re fine. You know how to make all of us think you’re fine when you’re really not."

"Barty is right,” Regulus replied, choosing to ignore the rest of what Evan said. “I’m fine."

"See, that actually makes me think that you’re the exact opposite of fine. Barty is never right and you’re always the first one to say it."

Regulus laughed at that. "Okay, okay. Fine. I’m stable, how’s that for an answer?"

"Now that, I’ll actually believe." Evan said as he raked his dark fingers through his platinum curls. "Did your life experiences give you any inspiration for your book?"

And just like that, Regulus was forgiven and all was back to normal with his best friend. He knew things between them would be fine, even after that first night in the hospital. In fact, the only thing that he didn’t have anxiety about was whether or not Evan would forgive him. He had stressed about everything and everyone else, even what Barty thought about him consumed Regulus’ thoughts for a time, but he knew Evan would always accept him no matter what. Despite his attempts at avoiding him all throughout their college years, every year they ended up being dorm roommates again. Later, Evan would admit that he had requested to be roomed with Regulus because he loved having such a quiet and tidy roommate. But eventually they grew attached to one another, able to communicate non-verbally in ways that he had never been able to with anyone other than his own brother. They respected one another and as time went on, their respect blossomed into a friendship that was unshakable. When Regulus had returned to their dorm after Sirius showed up in his life again, Evan was the one who convinced him to trust that his brother wanted to be a part of his life. Evan was the one who saw him sob uncontrollably over his brother and their lost time together, never once judging him. Evan was always the one who could get through to Regulus, no matter how mentally unstable he had become.

When Evan had started dating Barty, Regulus had thought that Evan was the crazy one. Barty was known on campus as a party animal–loud, unhinged, and untamed. They had met at a party that Evan insisted Regulus attend with him. Barty had offered them some pills, which they both swallowed without even questioning. They drank a series of shots together, and the three of them had become inseparable since then. Surprisingly, Barty was often the voice of reason among their little group. Despite his poor short term decision making skills—evidenced by the stick-and-poke tattoos that littered his body and the drugs often coursing through his veins—Barty was relatively level-headed. He could look at things in calculated ways that neither Regulus nor Evan ever could, balancing the weight of risk involved in everything that they did. Regulus’ anxieties often clouded his decisions, always assuming the worst outcome, and Evan simply didn’t care to think that far ahead, preferring to live in the moment and practice the mindfulness that he’d learned in his years of yoga. In a strange way, Barty and Evan seemed to have always been made for each other, and over the years Regulus shifted from feeling envious of their easy love to feeling relief that they had each other and still kept him close, never making him feel like a third-wheel or a burden.

"You know, jumping off a bridge does have its perks," Regulus said dryly. "I have been feeling inspired to write my novel again. It’s like a fresh start."

"Oh, fuck off. Your novel is a murder mystery, not some prose about the meaning of life."

"Yeah, and now I know what it feels like to nearly drown. I’m thinking of changing the entire method of murder now." Regulus sipped at his coffee as Evan balked at him, clearly unsure if Regulus was joking or not. "In other news, I have a date tonight."

"Show me his profile." Evan didn’t miss a beat at the subject change and held out his hand expectantly for Regulus’ phone. "You may say that you’re mentally stable, but I know your taste in men sucks regardless of your mental state."

A Habit to Kick (The Age-Old Curse)

A few weeks ago, Regulus Black jumped off a bridge. It's not that he really wanted to die, but he didn't really want to live either. He didn't think anyone would care one way or another, if he's honest. Now he's stuck learning how to live.

James Potter was used to seeing Reg every day at the cafe he worked in, until one day he stopped coming in. When he finally sees the guy he's been crushing on come back into the cafe, he knew he had to take his chance at asking him out on a date.

***This fic deals with heavy themes of depression, lack of a will to live, and suicide, but will have a happy ending***

wip, word count: 6,163, jegulus end game, established wolfstar

read on ao3 or the first full chapter after the break

(I posted about half of this chapter, unedited, earlier this week on this account as a teaser, but this is the full chapter and has been fully edited - expect sporadic updates of this fic posted here and on ao3.)

Regulus thought he knew loneliness before, but nothing prepared him for the emptiness that he was left with upon returning home after his hospitalization. One of the stipulations of his discharge was that he couldn’t stay home alone for the first couple of weeks and so his older brother, Sirius, trailed through the door behind him with a gym bag full of clothes and other things he deemed necessary. He closed the door to Regulus’ apartment behind him then dropped the bag on the floor next to him as he kicked off his combat boots. Regulus stared at the mismatched socks on his feet, one green and one blue, and wondered if there would ever be a time when he learned to care so little about details like that. Where Sirius learned to care less about what other people think about him and the way he presented himself, Regulus internalized perfection in every facet of his life.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Regulus said as he turned away and walked further into his apartment that felt less like home than it ever did. He couldn’t say that he found comfort in the hospital, far from it, but something about his stay made everything here feel less and less like his.

“Reggie,” Sirius’ voice was thick with concern as he hung his leather jacket on the hook in the entryway. “Can’t we just chill for a bit first? Maybe watch a movie or something?”

“I’m not gonna kill myself in the shower, Sirius,” he shot over his shoulder and kept walking towards the bathroom. “But I might if I don’t wash the filth from the hospital off my skin.”

Sirius stormed up behind him and grabbed his shoulder, whipping him around to look him in the eye. “Don’t fucking joke like that. Not yet. I really thought I lost you, you know.” His eyes welled with tears and his face paled. Before Regulus could comprehend what was happening, he was being pulled into a tight embrace. He was pretty sure he’s been hugged more times in the past few weeks than he ever had in his entire life.

Regulus found himself rubbing Sirius’ back, internally cringing at the idea of soothing his brother when he was the one who was pushed so far by the demands of his everyday life that he opted to end it. “I promise to stop making jokes about killing myself for one week if you let me go take a shower, deal?”

“Leave the door open?” Sirius asked as he pulled away and wiped away the tears that had spilled down his cheeks.

“If it’ll make you feel better, sure.”

“It will.”

“Fine,” Regulus agreed as he walked down the hall to the bathroom. He shucked off his clothes and tossed them into the hamper. The hoodie and sweats were clean just a couple of hours ago, but he smelled so strongly of hospital and sanitizer that he deemed them dirty already. He would probably need to wash them multiple times before he’d be able to get the smell fully out of them and even then, he wasn’t sure that he wanted to see those particular clothes ever again.

He scrubbed at his skin, washing himself at least a half a dozen times before his skin turned pink and he decided that he smelled enough like his typical cedar and sea salt soap to be considered clean. His hair is next. The hospital-provided 3-in-1 product had caused his usual soft waves to matte and lay flat on his head, so he took his time scrubbing with his shampoo a few times. When he deemed his hair finally clean, he slathered more conditioner than he would typically ever use and gently detangled his curls with his fingers. With his hair smooth and his fingers pruned, he finally turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist.

He nearly tripped over Sirius sitting on the floor with his back against the wall as he stepped out of the bathroom. Sirius banged his head on the wall when he looked up at Regulus with a sheepish smile, one leg bent close to his body and the other outstretched across the narrow hallway. “Sorry, I was worried.”

“Are you gonna be like this the whole time?”

“At least for a few weeks,” he folded his arms and tucked both legs up towards his body then rested his cheek on his arms as he looked up at his younger brother. “I’m a bit clingy now, Moony has encouraged my bad behavior and I’m afraid you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“You’re literally 28, you’re not old.”

Sirius barked a laugh and tucked his feet under himself so he could stand up. “You’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Regulus deadpanned as he walked past Sirius to his bedroom so he could put on a fresh change of clothes.

When Sirius had started dating Remus, or Moony as he tended to call him, Regulus knew their parents wouldn’t be happy, but he hadn’t thought it would change the trajectory of all of their lives. Sirius had decided to show their parents, rather than tell them, about his new boyfriend by bringing him home for Sunday dinner. Growing up Catholic, Sundays were a day reserved for devotion to God and family. Sirius was in college, Regulus a senior in high school still living at home, and had told their parents that he had been seeing someone special for a few months. Their parents invited Sirius and “the lovely lady” for dinner and instead it was Remus who walked through the door with his fingers interlaced with Sirius’. That was the most tense and silent meal that had ever occurred at the Black household.

When Sirius had returned home for the summer, their parents gave him an ultimatum: conversion therapy or be disowned. Sirius had packed his bags that night.

Regulus hadn’t heard from Sirius for a few months after that. He got accepted into his first choice college and tried to distract himself with schoolwork. He avoided getting close with any of his classmates and did his best to make himself scarce when his dorm mate, Evan, was around. He’d go into a local cafe with his noise canceling headphones and bury himself in studying while drinking more coffee than was probably healthy. On one of those days, Sirius had plopped himself in the seat across from him and glowered. His hair was longer, half of it pulled away from his face in a messy bun, and he had a few tattoos visible on his neck, collarbone, and knuckles.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?” Sirius had asked when Regulus wrenched his headphones away from his ears.

“The fuck? You’re the one not answering me.” Regulus had slammed his laptop shut and returned the glare that Sirius was giving him.

Turned out, their parents had blocked the brothers from being able to communicate. When Regulus had confronted them about it, they claimed it was for Regulus’ own good. They didn’t want their ‘only son to be influenced by sinners.’ At that, Regulus had laughed and said that he’d known he was gay since he was a child. He hadn’t spoken to his parents since. Their Uncle Alphard had taken pity on the brothers and helped them both to survive since being disowned.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Sirius yelled from outside his bedroom, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Do you really have to ask?” Regulus tugged his shirt on as he shouted back, annoyed at even being asked when Sirius already knew the answer.

He heard Sirius groan before he yelled back, “don’t you ever get sick of watching 10 Things I Hate About You ?”

“No, actually.” Regulus said flatly, walking into the living room to see Sirius sitting on the couch fiddling with the remote. “There’s something soothing about watching Patrick fuck up so royally and still win the girl at the end.”

“You need more therapy.”

“Obviously. Now put the movie on, I’ll make popcorn.”

***

In the morning, Regulus went through his morning routine and felt his nerves settle for the first time in weeks. The thing no one talked about when you’re hospitalized is how disrupted your everyday life is. Obviously, there’s the whole ‘in the hospital’ bit, but it was the little routines that calmed Regulus’ nerves. With his particular brand of mental illness, they always tried to disrupt his routines. Exposure therapy or something, they said. He thought it was bullshit.

And so he found comfort in waking up at exactly seven, stretching for fifteen minutes, brushing his teeth, showering, and being meticulous about his skincare and styling his hair. All of the little things that he had taken for granted in his daily life that suddenly became impossible to uphold when other people were checking in on him and watching his every move. He got dressed in an over-sized burgundy knit sweater and black trousers and grabbed his bag. Pulling out his headphones, he slipped them around his neck, then double checked that his laptop was safely inside and headed towards the living area towards the front door. Sirius was laying on the couch with blankets wrapped tightly around his body but surprisingly, was awake and staring at his phone.

“Didn’t think you’d be awake yet,” he said to Sirius as he grabbed his favorite black oxfords and slid them on.

Sirius grunted sleepily in response. “Didn’t get much sleep, if I’m honest. Your couch sucks.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Regulus said blandly. “I know they said I couldn’t be alone, but I’m fine—”

“Reggie, I’m staying.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“Me staying is the only reason you were allowed to leave, you know that. You were at that meeting.”

“Fine,” Regulus relented, knowing that arguing with Sirius was like arguing with a brick wall. “I’m going out, I’ll be gone for a few hours. Do you want coffee when I come back?”

“Are you going to Galactic Grounds?”

“I go there every day, Sirius. They’re the only place that makes good coffee around here.” Plus the guy who worked there was cute as hell, but Regulus refused to say that part out loud to his older brother. “Do you want coffee or not?”

“Yeah, I’d love coffee. Text me when you get there?”

“Sirius—”

“And when you’re headed home? I promise I’ll chill out in a few days, just humor me. Please?”

“Fine, bye.”

“Love you, Reggie.”

“Love you, Sirius.”

***

As he made his way into the cafe, Regulus pulled his headphones down to hang around his neck. The shop was generally pretty quiet, but the whirring of machines and general chatter were enough to make him flinch anyway. He stood in line, waiting as patiently as possible and mindlessly scrolling on his phone. When he looked up and glanced behind the counter, he saw the cute guy who always makes his coffee just right. James.

James looked up from the machine where he was steaming milk and fumbled the little metal pitcher. The smile on his face lit up the entire shop. “Reg, hey!” James seemingly abandoned the steaming milk to stare at him until the customer at the front of the line cleared their throat. James’ cheeks turned red from embarrassment as he apologized to the customer and then directed himself back at Regulus. “Can you stay so we can catch up?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll be here for a while. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” He really didn’t. The novel he had been working on wasn’t exactly going anywhere. Besides, his and Sirius’ Uncle Alphard made sure that all of their needs were met, so ‘work’ wasn’t exactly a necessity. It was just something to keep himself busy and to take his mind off things. ‘Things’ mostly being coping with mental illness and childhood trauma, if he’s honest.

Regulus started to pull out his wallet to pay for the coffee when James stopped him. “Nah,” he said. “On the house. It’s just a black coffee, Reg.”

Regulus cringed a bit at feeling like he owed back a favor, but tried to shake the feeling. This was something they had worked on extensively in group therapy; sometimes people just wanted to do nice things for you. Let them. And so he thanked James, picked up the coffee, and brought it over to his usual table in the corner. He settled into the comfortable booth and pulled out his laptop, staring at the screen asking for his password while he processed the fact that James wanted to catch up with him. Catch up? They had never even had a conversation beyond simple pleasantries.

He moved to readjust his headphones over his ears when he noticed James throwing his apron on the rack near the bar and striding over to where he’s seated.

“Hey,” James said as he noisily pulled a chair out so he could sit. As he sat, he scooched himself in, the chair dragged and screeched the whole time. Regulus did his best not to make an expression at the sounds, but clearly his face betrayed him because James quickly apologized, his cheeks slightly pink.

“Hi,” Regulus tentatively replied. The rehearsed small talk and polite niceties are fine for transactional interactions, but sitting here with James staring at him? He felt exposed and unsure of himself. “So,” he tried. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” James grinned. “How about you? You usually come in daily and I haven’t seen you for weeks. Did you do anything fun? I missed seeing you.”

Regulus flinched at that. Of course sweet, wholesome James would immediately want to know what fun and exciting things he got up to while he was away. It would never even cross his mind that Regulus had disappeared because he tried to kill himself, jumping off a nearby bridge into the river. He’d been hospitalized for weeks. “No,” Regulus said in as level of a tone as he could manage. “I didn’t do anything fun, but I did do lots of crafts.”

“Oh, uh— Okay. That’s cool. I didn’t know you were crafty.”

“I’m not.”

James stared at him in confusion before laughing, bright and carefree. “Fuck, you’re funny Reg. I don’t even think you mean to be.”

“Look, I do have a lot of work to do—”

“Sorry, yeah. My break is almost over too, but I just wanted to… I know this isn’t professional or anything, and honestly I’ve been avoiding it because I know this is a weird dynamic where I make you the perfect coffee every day and you don’t wanna lose that in case it goes poorly, but I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while and just— You not being around for a bit made me worried I wouldn’t get a chance to ask you again, so while I still have the guts, will you let me take you out sometime?”

“You want to go out on a date… with me?” Regulus had never heard anything more ridiculous in his life. This sunshine golden retriever of a man wanted to take him out on a date?

“I mean— Sorry if I read you wrong, if you’re not interested in guys, or uh… me, that’s cool. I’ll keep making your perfect coffee and no harm done. I just figured I’d shoot my shot, y’know?”

“I am— Interested. In guys.” Regulus paused for a moment, feeling awkward and unsure of himself. He hasn’t had anyone ask him out on a proper date before. Typically, he just went about things the old fashioned way: dating apps and swiping until he found a reasonable match. It never went well enough for a second date, but it never went poorly enough that it stopped him from the cycle either. When he looked at James, he realized that he hadn’t explained that he wanted to go on the date. “I’m interested in you too,” he quickly added. “I’ve always thought you were cute, I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable at work.”

James beamed then handed him his phone. “Can you enter your number? I’ll text you and we can make more concrete plans?”

At first, Regulus was shocked by the casualness at which James just… handed him his phone. Then he realized that James probably never had parents who pried or jealous ex boyfriends who demanded to read every text exchange. He entered his phone number in a new text and texted himself the star emoji so that he had James’ number too and handed back his phone.

James glanced at his phone and then asked, “Why the star emoji?”

“For my name.”

James stared at him in confusion, but as he opened his mouth to ask he heard his co-worker calling out for him to come back from his break. “Fuck, I’m late. Sorry—”

“Go, James.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later okay?”

“Okay.” Regulus smiled softly as he watched James stand up from the chair across from him and rush back to his place behind the bar. He swore under his breath as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, knowing that it was probably Sirius freaking out even though they’ve shared their locations for years now. Fishing out his phone, he rolled his eyes as he read the text.

[Sirius]: i know you’re at galactic

[Regulus]: then you really didn’t need me to text you when i got here did you?

[Sirius]: whatever.

[Sirius]: don’t stay too long, you have therapy later

[Sirius]: and remember to bring me back coffee

[Sirius]: why don’t you have a coffee maker at your apartment anyway?

[Regulus]: i literally come here every day, i don’t need a coffee maker when i pay for it to be made for me

[Sirius]: spoiled brat

[Regulus]: whatever, i’ll be back in an hour with coffee in hand

[Sirius]: you’re my favorite brother

[Regulus]: still your only brother

Regulus pulled his headphones over his ears and hit play on his favorite writing playlist before he placed his phone face down on the table. He typed in the password on his laptop and opened the file for his novel and just… stared at it. He pretended to read it while he sipped his coffee, but all thoughts in his head circled back to James. After about fifteen minutes, his cup was empty and he had written absolutely nothing. He gingerly closed his laptop and packed it away, deciding that his time would be better spent at home than trying to pretend that he wasn’t staring at James every chance he found.

He went up to the counter and pulled his headphones off when James came over with a questioning look. “Are you done working already?” he asked.

“Couldn’t focus,” Regulus answered softly. “Can I get another coffee to go, but with cream and sugar?”

“Have you decided that you finally have taste buds?” James joked as he began making the coffee.

“Very funny,” Regulus snarked back. “No, my brother is staying with me for a bit, so I’m bringing this back for him.”

“Oh that’s nice, is he visiting from out of town?” James placed the coffee on the counter in front of him.

Regulus hoped that his flinch wasn't noticeable. He didn’t know why he couldn’t seem to have a filter around James. Usually, he’d avoid giving any details of his life to anyone. The less they knew, the easier interactions were. The less they knew, the less he had to work to figure out how to phrase things so no one suspects anything was wrong with him. “No, he lives nearby. He’s just staying at my place for a few weeks.”

“You two must be close then,” James said.

Regulus wasn’t sure if he was supposed to answer that, so he shrugged vaguely before he placed enough cash on the counter to cover both this and his own coffee from earlier, plus a generous tip. “See you tomorrow,” he shot over his shoulder as he headed out the door.

***

“You’re back earlier than I expected,” Sirius said when he came in the door. Regulus kicked off his shoes and padded his way into the living room where Sirius was still lounging on the couch, exactly where he left him. He handed him the coffee and sat on the couch next to him, shoving his legs out of the way to make room. “You told me you’d text me when you were on your way back.”

“I mean, I really didn’t.” Regulus groaned as he leaned back into the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “You coerced me with guilt to agree to text you against my will.”

“What else are brothers for if not to guilt each other?” Sirius asked as he took a sip of the coffee and practically moaned into the cup. “Fuck, that place makes the best coffee.”

“James,” Regulus said towards the ceiling.

“Huh?”

“James makes the best coffee. He gave me his number today.”

“Oh shit, is that the cute guy with the glasses?”

“Aren’t you happily committed to Remus?”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes,” Sirius said. “Are you gonna go on a date with him?”

“Do you really think I should?” Regulus asked. “I don’t exactly have my shit together, what with just trying to kill myself and all.”

“Who cares? If he’s the right guy, he won’t care if you have your shit together.” Sirius answered. “I’ve never had my shit together and Remus still loves me. It’s worth a shot.”

Before Regulus could answer, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Sirius put his coffee down and stared at him expectantly.

“What?”

“Aren’t you gonna check your phone?”

“I—”

Regulus never got to finish his sentence because Sirius threw himself at him, shoving a hand into his pocket and fishing out his phone.

“Fuck off,” Regulus snapped as he tried to grab his phone out of Sirius’ hand, but Sirius dangled the phone just out of reach.

“It’s James, ” Sirius sing-songs.

“Give it back, I’m serious,” Regulus realized his mistake in word choice before Sirius got a chance to bark a laugh. “Don’t even, just give me my fucking phone.”

“Reggie, you won’t let me read your texts with James and you won’t let me make my favorite, very funny, and not at all overused, joke.” Sirius gave him a mock pout. “Do you even love me?”

“There’s not even anything to read,” Regulus said as he practically climbed on top of Sirius to grab his phone. He looked at the screen and rolled his eyes. “He literally just texted ‘hi, it’s James.’ Was that really worth wrestling over?”

Sirius shrugged. “It was fun all the same.”

“You’re impossible.”

Regulus felt his phone vibrate again and he quickly glanced down to read the message on his home screen without unlocking his phone.

[James]: tell me what the star means

“How long should I wait to reply to him, do you think?”

“Huh?”

“What’s the appropriate amount of time to wait to reply to a text?” Regulus rephrased his question, looking at his brother expectantly.

“Reggie,” Sirius’ voice softened. “If you like him, you should just answer him. You don’t have to play games like that.”

“I don’t—” Regulus let out a breath. “I don’t want to seem desperate. Or clingy.”

“Replying to a double text from a guy who’s clearly interested in you isn’t going to come off as desperate, it’ll just let him know you’re on the same page. Besides, as soon as you open that he’s gonna see the read receipt.”

Regulus wasn’t sure that his brother was right, but he decided that if James was already texting him, then he could text him back. He pulled out his phone and opened the texts between them before he overthought what he was going to say.

“You know,” Sirius said, interrupting Regulus’ thoughts. “He’s probably freaking out just as much as you are, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Fuck off,” Regulus shoved at his brother. “You know no one freaks out more than I do, that’s just mean.” He stood up and paced around the living room while Sirius watched him with a smirk. When he had sent the star emoji earlier, he had intended for it to come off as mysterious and cool, but now he just felt dumb.

[Regulus]: my full name is regulus, like the star

He shot off the text before he could think about it anymore, knowing that no matter what he wasn’t going to feel good about how he phrased an answer to James’ question. Before he had even locked his phone again, James had texted him back.

“I told you he was interested,” Sirius said as he pulled the blankets around himself again and settled back into the couch.

[James]: that explains the gravitational pull I feel towards you

Regulus rolled his eyes. Of course James would be the type to come up with something that cheesy.

[Regulus]: and that is exactly why I always introduce myself as reg

[James]: sorry, couldn’t resist

[James]: will you still go on a date with me? :(

[Regulus]: only if you promise to never use another star themed pick up line again

[James]: pinky promise

“Oh my fucking god,” Sirius said. His voice pulled Regulus out of his head and made him realize that he was literally just standing in the middle of his living room, staring at his phone, and smiling. “You’re fucking giddy over this guy. I mean, look at you. You’re practically blushing! I knew he was cute, but Regulus Arcturus Black, do you have a real, honest to God, crush?”

“I hate you,” Regulus said with less conviction than intended. He flipped his brother off and went to his bedroom, leaving the door open to avoid Sirius having a total meltdown. He plopped onto the bed and opened his phone, seeing another string of texts from James.

[James]: does tomorrow night work for you?

[James]: also, do you like Italian food?

[James]: I could pick you up at 7

[Regulus]: italian at 7 tomorrow sounds perfect

He wondered if he should really be giving James his address, normally he would meet up with guys at a neutral location before going to their place. He really didn’t like having guys come to his apartment, not just because of the whole safety aspect of things, but also he hated the idea of someone snooping around his things or putting things back where they don’t belong. Everything in his home was meticulously placed and organized. Even placing something back in the fridge with the label turned around was enough to set him off some days. He decided that he could decide whether or not to send James his address after therapy today and put his phone on do not disturb so he wouldn’t know if James asked before then.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully before therapy. He and Sirius had a boring lunch of sandwiches since neither of them knew how to cook a proper meal, then they tidied up the apartment a bit. Really, Regulus cleaned and organized meticulously while Sirius sat on the couch texting Remus, but Regulus decided that was for the best. Sirius staying out of his way was more helpful than him actually helping.

When it was time to leave for therapy, Sirius gave him a ride instead of letting him walk. He only convinced Regulus to let him drive him there and back because sure, the walk there would be fine, but wouldn’t the walk home with a puffy face from crying be worse than a walk of shame at 8am? Regulus really couldn’t argue with that.

Regulus had been to plenty of therapists before. Being a gay son in a Catholic household tended to lend itself pretty well to the whole ‘needing therapy’ thing. He hadn’t been to therapy for a few years before his attempt though, preferring to bury his feelings with things like substances and one night stands, and so the hospital prescribed him twice weekly sessions. One with this new therapist, Horace Slughorn, and one with a group. When the hospital had assigned him to his therapist, he honestly thought the name was a joke. Who the fuck would name their child Horace and why would they hold onto a surname like Slughorn when there was the option to legally change your name to… anything else? But then he remembered that his entire family had named their children after stars and decided to keep all thoughts of criticism to himself.

Walking into Slughorn’s office, the office receptionist made him fill out a ridiculously long questionnaire asking him pointless questions like ‘in the last 2 weeks have you felt hopeless or like life has no meaning?’ Obviously yes, he wouldn’t have been prescribed mandatory therapy if he hadn’t jumped off a fucking bridge, but fine. He answered all the questions and brought the iPad back to the receptionist, then waited. And waited. And waited some more. He checked the time on his phone and realized that Horace was over a half an hour late for his appointment. Great. Not only was he going to have to endure appointments every week, but this therapist was wasting even more of his time by not starting promptly. He already hated him.

When he was called into the office, he sat on a saggy couch and continued to wait until a portly man with a bald head strolled into the room without a care in the world. He sat down and smiled weakly at Regulus and Regulus decided that he hated this man even more than before. Who comes into an appointment nearly three quarters of an hour late and doesn’t even apologize?

“My name is Horace, it’s nice to meet you,” he said as he pulled out a notebook and pen. He looked at Regulus expectantly. Regulus assumed that he was met with sheer disgust based on how his face blanched.

“If you’re going to be late to every appointment, we might as well not even exchange pleasantries. My time is valuable and I don’t tolerate disrespect.”

Slughorn wrote something in his notebook as he grimaced. “Unfortunately, I’m the only therapist with openings in this practice currently, and seeing as you were recently hospitalized, I’m afraid you don’t exactly have the bargaining power here, Mr. Black. Now, do you want to tell me what led to your recent hospitalization?”

“I jumped off a bridge. Surely, you read my chart before I arrived.”

“I did, but I’d much prefer to hear your story from you directly.”

“That’s about it, Horace.”

Therapy continued as expected. Horace pushed for more details and Regulus made him feel as though he were talking to a brick wall. When their session was done, Regulus stopped by the front desk and told the receptionist he would not be returning.

“I— Can I give you a recommendation on where to find better care?” She seemed kind-hearted and so Regulus agreed to take the card she offered for another office nearby without a fight. When he got in the car, dry-eyed and irritated, Sirius laughed.

“That good, huh?”

“Don’t get me started,” Regulus sighed. “Can we get Chinese food? I need to eat so many crab rangoons I forget what that guy’s face looked like.”

“Yeah,” Sirius answered. “Can Moony come? I’m codependent and I miss him.”

“You should go to therapy for that,” Regulus joked before agreeing. Truthfully, he liked Remus. He might have even considered him a friend if he allowed himself to get close enough to the guy. He placed the order for their Chinese food before he turned his phone off ‘do not disturb’. When he looked at his notifications, he saw a handful of texts from James.

[James]: what’s your address?

[James]: sorry, not trying to be weird, just want to pick you up like a proper date

[James]: you can give me a fake address to meet you at if you want

[James]: or we can meet at the restaurant if you’d prefer

“Okay, maybe you were right,” Regulus said to his brother while they waited for Remus to come out to the car.

Sirius mock gasped and clutched at the collar of his shirt. “Did Regulus Black just admit that I, Sirius Black, was right? ”

Of course, at that moment was when Remus got in the back seat of the car and looked between the two brothers. “I leave him with you for one day and his ego is already inflated.”

“Moony,” Sirius twisted himself towards the back seat and planted a quick kiss on Remus’ lips. “Reggie just said I was right, can you believe it?” He pulled his phone out of his coat pocket and took a selfie with Regulus scowling in the background. “I’m gonna frame this.”

“Hey Reg,” Remus said. Regulus noticed that he was careful not to ask how he was. In fact, Remus acted like everything about Sirius staying with his brother, bringing him to and from appointments and getting Chinese takeout all together, instead of being at home with his boyfriend was completely normal.

“Hey,” Regulus replied.

“So,” Remus questioned as Sirius began driving towards their favorite Chinese takeaway spot. “What was Sirius right about?”

“Ugh,” Regulus groaned. “This guy at the cafe I like asked me on a date today, so I gave him my number. He’s been texting me trying to plan the date and Sirius said that he was probably overthinking just as much as I was. I didn’t believe him until this guy literally sent me four texts freaking out about how he asked for my address.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at that. “Lemme see.”

Regulus handed him his phone and waited while Remus read the texts.

“Okay, so the gravitational pull pickup line was smooth. But yeah, don’t leave this poor guy on read any longer, Reg. Answer the man.” Remus handed his phone back.

“What pickup line?” Sirius asked as he pulled into the parking lot.

“Oh, it was good,” Remus laughed. “Said that being named after a star explained the gravitational pull he felt towards him. Should have used that one myself.”

Sirius laughed so hard at that, he had to wipe away a few tears from his eyes. “Please, Reggie, you’re gonna eat him up. That’s so sweet.”

Regulus crossed his arms and glared at his brother. “Maybe I like sweet.”

“Since when?” Sirius and Remus asked in unison, the former sounding shocked.

“Since I felt like killing myself, I guess. Gotta change something, right?” At that, Regulus got out of the car and headed into the restaurant to grab their giant bag of food. When he came back, the car was eerily silent.

“Reggie,” Sirius said solemnly as he pulled out of the parking lot. “You promised no suicide jokes for at least a week.”

“Oh, come on,” Regulus groaned as he tilted his head back into the headrest of the seat. “That was hardly a joke.”

“Reg…” Remus started.

“Fine,” Regulus interrupted, his voice cold and cruel. “Sorry, I’ll keep the jokes about what happened to me to myself.”

“It– It didn’t happen to you, Reggie,” Sirius muttered. “You did it to yourself. And to us. We all have to live with the decisions you make too.”

“Sorry,” Regulus said, softening his tone. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Reggie. I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you. Let’s just try to have a nice night, yeah?”

The car ride home was much more subdued than the ride to the Chinese restaurant was. Regulus took the lull in conversation to shoot James a text with his address and an apology for taking so long to reply. James replied immediately.

[James]: i can’t wait!

[James]: sorry for being a chronic over texter

[James]: it will happen again

When they arrived at Regulus’ apartment, they put on a mind-numbing movie and sat around the living room eating greasy food and laughing at stupid jokes. Regulus wished he could have had a glass or two of wine, but part of his discharge instructions was to stay sober for at least a month while he continued to adjust to his medications and life outside of the hospital. Regulus ended up fishing out the air mattress from the closet so Remus could crash in the living room with Sirius and they all fell into their bedtime routines.

When he was finally alone in bed, Regulus read over the texts from James again. He had never felt so excited to go on a date with someone before. He thought to himself, though he’d never admit it out loud, that maybe it was for the best that he hadn’t died in that river after all.

#evan rosier #wip #marauders fanfiction #dead gay wizards #regulus being regulus #regulus black #regulus and evan’s friendship is everything to me and i don’t see it often enough in fics #jegulus fanfiction #rosekiller

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