#she said she saw it was the holiday and didn’t look much further

[okgal21]

My body. Hates me. Oh so very much.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Khichdi ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

Summary: y/n wants to surprise lando, but her health has other plans for her.

⇗ ln x desi!reader ₊˚ෆ

⇗ fluff + sickfic ₊˚ෆ

masterlist ☾☼

y/n had been the first woman that lando felt like he was truly ready to risk it all for. he was never a person who could date someone who lived on a separate continent, but somehow, with y/n, he wanted to make it work. after almost a year of long distance, and only meeting on some weekends or holidays, y/n had decided to surprise him by visiting him in monaco. lando had felt happier than he had in a while, and as soon as he saw y/n standing at his door with her suitcase, he had wasted no time gathering y/n in his arms and twirling her around, whispering just how grateful he was that she was there. 

unfortunately, y/n had a habit of always falling sick for at least a day or two after travelling big distances. as much as she had hoped that the flight from india to monaco wouldn’t lead to her falling sick, her prayers had not been heard. the very night that she had landed in monaco, she could feel a fever coming in. as desperate as she was to ignore it, lando wouldn’t let her, and forced her into bed. 

she had slept the entire night, and then, had slept through breakfast. finally, at lunch time, lando shook her awake and asked her if she wanted to eat something. sleepily, y/n mumbled, “khichdi,” 

lando was confused. he had no idea what khichdi was. but, he also did not want to trouble y/n any further. whispering an “okay”, he left the room and headed towards his kitchen, where he was already FaceTiming y/n’s mum. 

lando had met y/n’s mum multiple times through video calls, and the first time he had visited y/n in india was also the first time he had met y/n’s mum. it had been far too early in the relationship to be meeting each other’s parents, but somehow, it had felt right. so, y/n and lando never questioned it. 

“hi, lando,” y/n’s mum’s voice rang through the house, and he quickly put on his AirPods. setting his phone against a kitchen appliance, he took a step back and looked almost scared. 

“what’s wrong?” she asked. 

“um, y/n’s sick. has a fever. she’s been sleeping for almost 14 hours now.” he said.

“oh no,” 

lando nodded, “yeah. but, also, i asked her what she wanted for lunch, because i know she hates soup and i can’t figure out what she would want to eat right now. and, she said something called khich- khichdi?” 

y/n’s mum nodded, “khichdi, yeah. its basically rice and lentils cooked together.” 

“right. i don’t know how to make it, so i was hoping that you could teach me?” lando almost seemed shy in his request. 

y/n’s mum smiled brightly, and began guiding him through the steps. lando had a fair collection of indian spices or as y/n called them ‘masalas’. y/n had stocked his house with all kinds of appliances, food, everything that she would need or she has in india. lando never questioned it, because it just seemed easier to already have all those things for when y/n would eventually move in with him. 

lando was scared out of his mind for most of the part. pressure cookers were loud, and honestly, a little violent in his opinion. he didn’t understand how his girlfriend cooked most of her food in such a violent and scary appliance. every time the cooker went off, lando resisted the urge to hide behind the island. he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of her mother just yet. he could do that after he had married y/n. then, y/n’s mother won’t be allowed to have a problem with him. 

after the terrifying process of making khichdi was done, lando bid y/n’s mum goodbye, and quickly scooped a decent amount of rice from the pressure cooker and into a bowl. putting it on a tray along with a glass of water and some meds, lando made his way to his bedroom. 

gently opening the door, he said, “y/n, come on, i made you lunch,” 

“five more minutes,” y/n said, as she turned and faced the other way. 

smiling at his girlfriend, lando set the tray on his bedside table, and sat down on the bed. he gently ran his fingers through her hair that had become wet from sweat. but that was good, because her fever was breaking. 

“come on, i made you khichdi,” he said. 

y/n’s eyes opened instantly. had she heard him correctly? she turned towards him slowly and stared up at his face. “you did what?” 

“i made you khichdi. you said you wanted that, so i made it.” 

y/n immediately sat up, and lando propped up pillows behind her so that she was comfortable. 

once she was settled, lando picked up the tray and settled it on her lap, making sure that it wouldn’t fall. all that while, y/n stared at him in wonderment. she looked down at the bowl, and there it was. khichdi. looking the same way as her mum’s khichdi. 

he offered her a spoon, and she took it gratefully. taking a bite of her khichdi, y/n’s heart was overflowing. it was the same as her mum’s. it tasted exactly the same, with just the right consistency and everything. 

“is it good?’ lando asked hesitantly. it was the first time he had cooked indian food. he didn’t want to get his girlfriend sick. or, more sick than she already was.

y/n looked at him with a smile, “it’s perfect. thank you. i don’t even remember saying that i wanted khichdi. how’d you make it?” 

lando smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “i- uh- called your mum. asked her how i could make it, and she taught me.” 

abandoning her bowl, y/n wrapped her arms around lando’s neck, hugging him tightly. lando reciprocated the hug. “i love you,” she whispered. 

“oh, baby, i love you too. are you okay?” he asked, worried that maybe he had crossed a line somehow. 

she sniffled and pulled back, “i’m okay. you’re just perfect, and i love you so much.” 

lando smiled at her, and pulled her against his chest. the two settled against the headboard, with y/n’s head on his chest as she slowly ate the khichdi. lando had pulled out his laptop and put on brooklyn nine nine for her. 

eventually, after she had finished eating, and he had forced the medicine down her throat, because she really did hate taking medicines, y/n had fallen asleep against his chest, wrapped in his arms, with his chin tucked over her head. lando had somehow never felt more at peace before. 

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

i hope you guys enjoyed this! ive had this idea stuck in my head for a while now. i'd gotten sick a couple weeks ago, and I thought of this and I was finally able to write it! i really hope all my desi girlies love this! i've also got a link for my taglist that you can find here!

[purple-babygirl]

welcome baaaack! i missed you so much

i've been here since forever and i remember a very long time ago that you promised us insecure chubby bucky. i never forget and i'm still waiting for him (when you get time for sure). i would love to read that whenever you right it! otherwise i'm really happy you're back again.

much love purple<3

Pairing: Insecure!Chubby!Chef!Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 4,180

Summary: Bucky runs into his ex, who manages to mess with his head, bringing his insecurities to the surface again. His girl takes it upon herself to show him how perfect he is.

Warnings: 18+ content, bullying (sort of), fat shaming, negative self body image, insecurities, intrusive thoughts, mentions of cheating, a little crying, a little angst, smut, unprotected vaginal sex, cum, multiple orgasms

A/N: Nonnie, omg, you have been here a long time! I love and appreciate you so so much and I can't believe you stuck around for so long wow:"💜💜 Thank you so much for existing and for being here you're the reason I don't wanna leave again💜💜💜 Here's one insecure chubby bucky for you, I hope you like this one and that I did a good job💜 Thank you again ilyyy, please enjoyxx💜💜(y'all i think i forgot how to write smut what is wrong with me)

~

perfect to me

���I’m so sorry, baby, I have to run,” she told him after checking her phone, pecking his lips and taking quick steps down the aisle of the large store.

Bucky smiled, taking another fruit plate and placing it in their cart. His girl was such a hard worker and he couldn’t be prouder.

It was going to be Christmas soon and his girl was still working hard so Bucky was going to make her the best holiday food she’s ever tasted.

He was focused on picking the freshest cranberries when he heard a scoff, a very familiar one.

“Hey, Ryan,” Bucky sighed, not really wanting to ruin his good mood, as he turned around to meet a face he knew too well.

“What does she owe you?” said Ryan, tilting his head with a smirk.

“What?!”

“There’s no way this chick is seeing you. I figured she must owe you and is just paying her debt!” He smirked further, not even trying to hide his gloating when he saw that his words still had an effect on Bucky.

“My relationship with her is none of your business.” Bucky’s voice was suddenly low as his eyes stared down at the contents of the cart.

“But my relationship with you is.” Ryan put a finger under Bucky’s chin but the latter took a step away.

“We don’t have a relationship. You cheated on me, remember? I was too fat for you.” Bucky’s shaky voice moved nothing inside Ryan. If anything Ryan wanted more.

“And now you’re too fat for her.”

“Shut up. She is nothing like you.”

“Really? Do you even know where she goes when she leaves you? Where she is right now, for example?” Ryan smirked.

“She got called into work and had to run to the office.” Bucky knew he owed him nothing and if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have went through a conversation with Ryan at all, but he wasn’t.

“How are you still so naïve?” He laughed heartily as if Bucky’s misery was actually amusing to him.

“Leave me alone.” Bucky tried to push the shopping cart and walk away, but Ryan stepped before him.

“I didn’t know your publisher lived in an office.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She leaves you to go fuck your publisher. You know him, black guy, sexily built, very handsome.”

The words left Bucky feeling lightheaded as the world seemed to twirl around him. Could history be repeating itself? No, not this time. His girl was not like that.

“I saw her coming to his building with him.”

“How’d you even-”

“I wait tables in the restaurant across the street from his apartment. I didn’t know she was with you but damn are you lucky you met me today!” Ryan laughed insensitively.

“It’s probably someone else.”

“I think I know what your publisher looks like.”

“You’re lying,” Bucky chocked out, trying to get out of Ryan’s way.

“You don’t sound so sure about that.” Ryan tilted his head again with a smug smirk, poking Bucky’s tummy, “you know why? Because deep down you know she’s too sexy for you. Because you look at her and then at yourself and you can’t figure out why she’d want you. Because you know that sooner or later she’s gonna get tired of your fat ass and—”

“My life now is none of your business, Ryan. You left. You chose to go, so stay gone.” Bucky’s weak voice interrupted, shutting Ryan right up before he sped out of the store, leaving the groceries behind.

“You’ll come back to me when you see for yourself!” He shouted after Bucky, but he didn’t stop nor turn back.

The questions he had raised in Bucky’s head, Bucky had no answers for them himself. Why was this sweet girl with him? What did she see in him? Anyone who met them thought the same thing: they didn’t belong together. So what did she see differently? What was Bucky bringing to their relationship? Could he even satisfy her? Could he keep her fulfilled?

He thought the days where Ryan messed with his head were long gone but he was obviously mistaken. Ryan could still easily hurt him. He could still make him feel as large as an elephant yet smaller than an insect. The dagger he’d planted was in so deep that Bucky couldn’t feel anything but the pain the stab brought.

~

His ex’s words plagued his mind. They took over and drowned out his girl’s voice, pushing it to the background.

All of a sudden, Bucky was very aware of his size, of the way the couch made the slightest sounds under his weight, and the way his girl could fit her whole self on one of his thighs if she wanted to.

“Bucky bear?” A hand on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts.

Suddenly, he hated the words she nicknamed him with. Bear? Is that how big she thought he was?

“Hmm?”

“I was asking if you wanna go shopping for last minute gifts with me tomorrow,” she repeated, smiling sweetly, her fingers brushing a few hairs back and behind Bucky’s ear as she yawned.

Bucky’s new cookbook became a best seller after one week of release and the publication house was throwing the amazing chef a party.

She couldn’t be prouder and she wanted to support Bucky all the way. She loved Christmas and now it was going to be even better with this event added to their memories.

She was going to go all out for her man and he didn’t even know it. It was going to be a huge surprise and she couldn’t wait to make it happen.

“Yeah, why not,” Bucky replied, faking a smile back.

“What were you busy thinking about?” Her thumb traced his stubbly cheek as she frowned worriedly.

For a wonderfully successful cook, Bucky didn’t look so happy.

“You,” he answered with the truth though his eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually would at the thought of her.

“What about me?” Her smile returned as she stared lovingly at Bucky’s face.

“Why are you with me?” Bucky couldn’t hide the sorrow in his voice if he tried.

“What?” She sat up straight in his lap as her face fell.

“Please don’t make me repeat the question.”

“Buck, where’s this coming from?” Her hands cupped both his cheeks.

“I just don’t get it.” He shook his head, swallowing as his hands removed hers from his face.

“Don’t get what?!” She placed her hands on Bucky’s chest instead, refusing to let him push her away.

“Why you’re here!”

“I’m here because I love you, what’s hard to get, baby?”

“Do you really love me?”

This was serious. She’s never seen her boyfriend look so broken.

“James, what’s going on?”

“Answer the question, plum,” Bucky requested, the back of his fingers stroking over her cheek, knowing this was probably the last time he would get to touch her soft skin.

“Of course I love you!”

“Then why do you leave me to go meet Sam and then lie to me about it?!” Bucky unintentionally raised his voice.

“W—what?”

There were so many emotions overwhelming her and none of them was pleasant.

She was shocked, hurt and dejected. Bucky has never raised his voice at her before.

 “What were you doing together last night? And the night before and the night before that?!”

“Bucky, you’ve got it all wrong.” She shook her head, heartbroken that Bucky would think of her like that.

“Please leave.” He slid her off his lap and stood up, turning his back to her.

“Bucky.” Tears pricked her eyes.

“Leave, plum.”

“Bucky, me and Sam were—”

“If you won’t leave then I will.” Bucky sped to the door, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanged.

The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of her too. He’s already shown his weakness once; never again.

“Bucky!”

He ignored her calls, ready to run out of the door and let his legs take him far away where he’d have to hear no lies and could no longer get hurt.

“James Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare walk out on me!” She blocked the door, preventing Bucky from exiting the apartment.

Her eyes glistened with yet to be shed tears as her heart pounded in her chest. The mere idea of losing Bucky for any reason terrified her more than anything else.

She loved the man with her heart and soul and would go to the ends of the Earth for his sake. Why couldn’t he see that?

“I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise but… your book is a best seller. Me and Sam were planning you a party to celebrate. We figured if we met at the restaurant it’d ruin the surprise so I saw him at his place after work.”

Bucky stared at her dumbly.

“You can call Sam if you don’t believe me.”

“Oh.” Bucky felt like someone’s just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head; felt like an absolute idiot, “oh, plum.”

“I’m sorry I kept it a secret, but I’m not sorry I wanted to do something nice for the man I love.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her lower lip trembled, “and I’m really sad with you for stalking me and doubting me like that. I didn’t expect that from you, Bucky… and I’m hurt.”

“Sweet plum-”

“You can leave now if you still want to.” She took quick steps to the bedroom, leaving Bucky at the door.

It wasn’t often that she and Bucky fought and it was never something that couldn’t be solved within an hour. He could never bear to see her upset, let alone let her go to bed mad at him.

“Plum,” Bucky softly knocked on her door, swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, “can I please come in?”

But this was big.

Bucky has doubted her love for him. He has insulted her loyalty and ruined everything because of his insecurities and the poisonous words of a man who never cared for him.

She opened the door for him in a heartbeat, her face soaked in tears.

“No, no, sweet plum.” Bucky took her in his arms, praying to the deities she wouldn’t repel from his touch.

“You pushed me out of your lap.” She sobbed, her chest heaving and her forehead pressed to his shoulder.

His accusations hurt but the fact that he pushed her away somehow hurt her more.

Bucky couldn’t help but let his tears fall as well.

How could he be so thoughtless? She was the one good thing in his life and he almost let her go. No amount of restaurants he could open could make him feel as happy as a smile from her would.

He could write a library and collect every prize ever known to humankind, and she would still be the best thing Bucky has ever won over.

“I’m stupid, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hold tightened, engulfing her smaller frame in a desperate hug, “please don’t cry because of an idiot like me. I’m sorry, sweet plum. Forgive me, baby.”

“Why’d you do it?” Her sad eyes looked at him in question, full of confusion yet void of bitterness.

“I- sweet plum-” Bucky didn’t know how to answer her question because now that he looked back, he could see how stupid it all was.

Why did he follow her for 3 consecutive nights while she went to meet Sam instead of just trusting her? Why did he choose to believe and trust in Ryan’s words and not her love for him? Why was it easier for him to imagine her with someone like Sam but impossible to think of her with someone like himself?

“It’s because I’m a big idiot,” Bucky replied.

“Bucky.”

“Please forgive me, plum.” Bucky pecked her temple.

“Tell me what happened.”  She demanded softly, wiping Bucky’s own tears away and kissing his chin.

“Nothing happened, sweet plum. I got inside my own head again. I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky lied with a sad smile, too ashamed to admit Ryan’s words almost had him ruining the best relationship he’s ever been in.

She nodded understandingly, her hand cupping Bucky’s face as she rested his forehead on hers.

Bucky would tell her when he was ready. She didn’t want to stay mad at him. She knew he had issues with self confidence and she wasn’t about to make him feel even worse. He would come to her when he was comfortable. Bucky would tell her on his own.

“Please stay.” She whispered, her teary eyes heavy with sleep, yet afraid to go to bed and have Bucky leave after.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweet plum.” Bucky kissed her forehead, taking her by the hand to their bed.

~

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Her soothing voice whispered, filling the dark room.

Bucky was laying wide awake, Ryan’s words playing in his ears over and over again. What he did to his girl and how he made her cry. All the messed up shit he did just hours ago gnawed at him and took the sleep away from his eyes.

“I ran into Ryan,” Bucky finally replied, unable to sleep while he’s hiding something from her, “he filled my head with thoughts about you leaving me for Sam, and I let him.” He admitted to the ceiling, hesitant to meet her eyes.

“I would never leave you,” she promised him without reluctance, cupping his face and making him look at her.

She wanted him to see all the love her eyes held for him with no shame.

“Please don’t. I will lose the weight, I will—”

“Wait, what? He told you I’d leave you because of your weight?” Both hands were back on Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs wiping under his eyes.

Bucky nodded.

“And you believed him?”

“It’s why he left me.” He shrugged.

“Bucky,” she sighed.

“I know I know. It’s what’s on the inside that counts—”

“Don’t talk as if you’re not physically breathtaking!”

“Baby—”

“No! You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?!”

“Plum, you don’t have to say such stuff.” Bucky shook his head sheepishly and regretted it when he saw sadness cover her delicate features.

She quickly shook it off, scratching her forehead before taking Bucky’s hand, helping him sit up in their bed.

“Sweet plum, what are you doing?” Bucky asked when she started moving the covers down his torso.

“Gonna love on my man. Would you let me, Bucky? Can I love on you?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.

Bucky nodded, hypnotized by the adoration shining in her eyes and she started to undress him.

Her eyes never left his as she took piece by piece of clothing off, revealing his beautiful figure to her, her smile only faltering when she bit down at the sight of her man in all his naked glory.

Bucky’s body was lit up under the soft moonlight coming from the window, helping her appreciate every curve and inch.

This gorgeous human being was his and he was hers.

“You’re so fucking sexy you take my breath away,” she moaned, slipping out of her own sweater, “and I don’t just mean the way you make me cum so many times until I have to fight for oxygen.” She brushed her lips on his.

Bucky was speechless. He could only stare and try not to lose his own oxygen.

“Keep your eyes open for me, Buck.” She pecked his lips once and he opened his eyes at once, not even realizing he’d closed them in the first place.

She smiled at how fast he followed the instruction, leaning back on the headboard and licking his lips.

Bucky’s groan when her bra hit the ground made her giggle. She slipped out of her panties, leaving herself bare before Bucky’s eyes.

“Come here, plum,” Bucky’s arms reached for her but she shook her head.

“This is about you, Bucky Bear.”

She climbed on the bed between Bucky’s legs, her hands wandering along his shins, thumbs caressing up his inner thighs. She bowed forward, peppering kisses on Bucky’s soft flesh.

“I love your thighs,” her lips moved higher and higher, the tiny kisses and nibbles driving Bucky crazy as he tried not to touch himself, “love how thick they are. So strong. So perfect. I would ride them all day if you’d let me.”

Bucky whimpered when she accompanied the honest words with a bite, leaving her mark on his pale flesh.

“And that ass,” she moaned, her hands sliding underneath Bucky, pulling his legs up and cupping his ass cheeks.

Bucky’s shy gasp made her smirk. He was so precious she could eat him. Maybe she should some day…

She let Bucky’s legs settle back on the bed and kept kissing up and up, skipping his twitching cock on purpose and placing wet kisses on his tummy instead. Her eyes locked with his and Bucky bit his pink lip.

He looked so beautiful, blushing, disheveled and turned on like that. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven; she was falling in love with this chef all over again.

“I love your tummy so so much,” her tongue dipped in Bucky’s bellybutton and the flush spread from his cheeks and on to his neck and chest.

Another moan slipped from his lips as her warm tongue lapped at his skin. She was full on licking him now.

Her words were romantic but the way she was loving him was driving him insane.

“I love to feel it against me when we hug,” she kissed his right side, “I love when you let me rest my head on it and I get to hear you breathe and feel your heartbeat,” she kissed his belly, “I love how it warms my back when you spoon me. And I love feeling it pushing against my ass when you take me from behind.” She pressed a final kiss to his left side.

“My favourite has got to be your cock though.” She gave his leaking dick a single pump and his hips were already bucking off the bed, “I’m a sucker for this cock, baby. Literally.”

Bucky was too busy whining when her mouth wrapped around the crown of his cock to call her out on her bad joke.

His whole body was on fire with need for her. He needed her to do something, anything.

“Plum, please. Let me get you ready. I need you. I need to be inside you.”

Bucky didn’t want to cum in her mouth, not this time. He needed to be buried deep inside her and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to last.

“I’m ready,” she said, situating herself on top of his cock, rubbing the tip on her wet folds, letting out filthy mewls at the feel of him against the lips of her pussy, “always ready for you, baby.”

Before Bucky could argue that he should at least make sure she was prepared to take him just in case, she was pushing the tip of him in, stretching herself out on his cock with her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream.

“Fuck, plum, so tight,” Bucky groaned, feeling her pussy grip every inch as soon as it disappeared inside her.

When she has completely impaled herself on Bucky’s cock, she stilled, taking a minute to get used to the stretch.

No burn has ever felt as good as the burn she got when Bucky’s dick split her in half. Getting opened on this cock was her favorite thing in the world.

She dragged her lips along his stubbly jaw as she waited, kissing all over his face, savoring the moment as sweetly as possible as if the head of Bucky’s cock wasn’t almost touching up her cervix.

Her open palms glided from around Bucky’s neck to his shoulders and down his arms until she reached his palms.

“and those hands, I think you already know how much I love your hands.” She chuckled as she continued and Bucky nodded, squirming below her.

“I love when you hold my hand; makes me feel safe; chosen,” she rolled her hips, making Bucky groan wantonly.

“I love how fast you can make me cum on the fingers of your left hand.” She whined when Bucky’s hands dug in her sides as she moved on him, surely leaving bruises behind.

“Fuck, plum-” Bucky was so close so fast and he wished he could last longer but the movement of her body on top of his, the words leaving her mouth and her walls snug around his cock were too much.

“I love you. Every inch, every part. I love all of you, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned in reply, chest heaving as he watched her take him.

“I love every part of you. I crave your touch like my lungs crave air.”

Bucky involuntarily thrust up, making her eyes roll.

“Oh Buck!” she wailed, Bucky hitting her favorite spots so good.

He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting hers every time she came down to take his cock over and over again, eyes glued to where he was disappearing inside of her.

“Nothing could ever match the feeling of being filled up of you, Bucky.”

“I love you, plum ahhh fuck,” Bucky moaned, overwhelmed by emotions and ready to burst any second.

“I love you too, Bucky bear. You’re my everything; my one and only.” She kissed him hard, thighs shaking around his body as she came on his cock.

Bucky couldn’t help but let go himself, cumming harder than he has ever before, filling her up with so much cum until he felt it leak out of her despite having her plugged on his softening cock.

She moaned at the warmth of his cum, shuddering when it seeped out of her.

“Fuck, plum,” Bucky sighed on her shoulder, breath still shaky.

She giggled shyly, burying her face in Bucky’s neck.

“Where did that come from?” Bucky asked, cupping her cheek so he could look at her.

She was glowing, smiling at him so innocently as if his cock wasn’t still buried deep up her leaking, pulsing pussy.

“From here.” She pointed to the spot between her breasts.

“Right here?” Bucky leaned forward to press a kiss on her hot skin, making her laugh as she nodded.

“I love you,” he whispered on her lips.

“I love you, Bucky. I love every tiny detail about you inside out. Nothing will ever change that.” She promised, seeing his eyes soften once again, insecurity dissipating.

“Thank you, plum.” Bucky hugged her close, kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck.

“Thank you for letting me show you how much I love you.”

“So you love my cock huh?” Bucky teased.

“Buckyyyy,” she whined, trying to get away as her face heated up.

“No, say it.” Bucky bit his lip, looking at her with a smirk.

“You know I do. Stop.”

“No, plum. I don’t know anything.” Bucky shook his head trying to act serious, “say it again.”

“Iloveyourcock,” she mumbled, trying to take herself off his cock.

“What was that, plum?” Bucky thrust upward into her and even with a soft cock he could make her make the sweetest sound.

“Hngh, I love your cock, Bucky,” she moaned, throwing her head back.

“Hmm, how much?” Bucky swirled his hips, feeling himself get hard again.

“S-so much,” she admitted as his cock stretched her sensitive pussy.

Bucky held her close, turning them the other way around and gave a deep push when he was on top, his cum making the filthiest squelching sounds as she screamed an “oh god”.

“So much you’d let me take you again?”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded frantically, not wanting the man to stop his thrusts.

And he wasn’t going to.

Bucky’s tummy pinned her down as he pressed his lips to hers, eating up her squeals as he pounded her into the bed, showing her how much he loved her.

~

“So you really don’t care about my weight?” Bucky asked, supporting his body up on his elbows as he stared at her glossy eyes.

She could barely remember her name as she tried to come down from the other two orgasms Bucky has just given her, his body still on top of hers, but that wasn’t a question she needed to think about the answer to.

“I only want you okay and healthy, Bucky. If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Otherwise, you’re perfect to me,” she told him with a shrug, pushing his wet hair behind his ears, “every little thing about you is perfect.”

“I love you so much, plum.”

“I love you more.” She smiled, heart fluttering at the look he was giving her.

“Not possible.” Bucky kissed her lips, “not possible, plum.”

~

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[furioussouls]

Yandere best friend! x plus sized reader

🌔

.

Tags: yandere oc male!,cursing, plus sized reader, fem! reader, soft yandere themes and behaviour (I do not condone this sort of behaviour in real life, but alas this is fictional. So enjoy)

Reader uses she/her pronouns

.

It is a chilly evening in the middle of December. While various people all around the globe are getting ready to celebrate different holidays with their loved ones, you’re sitting at a freezing, wet bus stop.

Exhaling hot, foggy air into your gloved hands, you try to ignore the darkness surrounding you and the station. Usually in the other seasons, staying at this bus station this late at night scared you for different reasons; whether it’s the rustling bushes, the weird sounds from animals residing in the forest or the weird dark figures that you sometimes see out of the corner of your eyes. However, right now it’s the absolute silence that frightens you.

While scanning the area for any dangers your eyes stop at the printed out timetable for the bus arrivals.

Your eyes widen as you see that the next bus that drives by this bus station is at 6 in the morning. “Oh, of fucking course”, you groaned while rubbing your temples with your plump fingers. ‘This is what I get for being a helpful citizen’ ,you thought to yourself and rolled your eyes. While Mrs. Dresley is now settled in nicely in her granddaughter’s apartment (thanks to you), you have to walk all the way home, or probably have to catch an Uber. Or maybe even-

“(Y/N)!”, somebody yelled from behind you.

Alarmed, you jumped back and spun around to see your best friend Elliot. His frame towered over you and he was dressed in a less than weather appropriate jacket, which did little to hide the tattoos that racked over his collarbones and arms. His eyes lit up when he saw your eyes shifted to him and he waved while walking towards you.

“Jesus, Elliot”, you hissed at him. “You scared the absolute shit out of me!” You started walking towards him. The snow beneath your feet crunched beautifully and your body was now pretty adjusted to the cold.

“I’m sorry”, he grinned at you and wrapped his arms around you when you got close. His comforting cologne hit your nostrils, and caused you to sniff your nose, which was already runny from the cold. His big, warm hands glided from your upper back down to your soft hips. His hands lingered and you buried your face in his chest. Before letting you go, his hands went back to your squishiest parts and he gently pat them and exhaled shakily.

“Yeah, I’m sure you are”, you retorted, but your voice was all muffled from putting your face in his chest. It was enough for him to understand you though, judging by his low chuckle. His nose gently rubbed along your temple.

“What are you even doing here?”, you wondered. On Fridays, Elliot usually spends his time training further in Tae kwon do.

“Oh, Mr. Johnson said we’d stop early today. His missus has got the flu. I don’t even know why he would leave her in the first place. I wouldn’t leave my girlfriend if she felt sick. Anyway, I saw you and thought I could take you home?”, He smiled lazily and started unbuttoning his jacket.

“But the training studio is in the opposite direction?”, you raised your eyebrow at him.

His fingers stopped moving along his buttons and he looked up at you and his smile dropped slowly. He looked around and his smile widened, exposing his beautiful teeth and dimples “Wow,(Y/N). Obsessed much? How do you know so much about my whereabouts?” He wiggled his eyebrows and leaned down to put his jacket around you. Weirdly, his fingers were shaking and it doesn’t appear to be from the cold.

You rolled your eyes, but took the jacket. He draped it over your shoulders, already knowing you wouldn’t wear it normally, because you didn’t like the tightness of his jacket around your supple belly.

“Anyway, should I drive us home?”, he asked and walked beside you while matching your pace. You nodded and yawned, the exhaustion of the day catching up to you.

🌔

Elliots hands were shaking while he drove himself and his darling home.

Your beautiful round body fresh in his mind. Your jiggly thighs and big belly, the deliciously rounded hips and arms. Your soft face walking towards him and your beautiful scent, which engulfed him completely when you wrapped your arms around him. His goddess, trusting him enough to drive them home safely.

Your presence was like moonlight shining on a heavenly body of water. He could sit there forever, and bask in the ethereal light. A century wasn’t enough with her. He wishes he could spend a lifetime finding out about every single thing that you like. A lifetime of worship for his one and only. Elliot has filled Notebook upon Notebook with your hobbies, interests, facts about you and pictures he drew himself. Nothing could ever live up to the reality, of course.

He wanted to spoil you, buy you every gorgeous item of clothing and see you dress yourself up like the beautiful goddess you are, buy you the most expensive of perfumes and every expensive item that you put off because of its price range. He will reach the day where he can easily accomplish this goal as a mixed martial artist ,and will then confess his love for you. You, the person that has always been there for him and has been with him through thick and thin.

He stopped at the red light, and spared a glance at his passenger princess. Admiring your beautiful side profile, the wheels in his mind whirred trying to come up with conversations so that you wouldn’t notice how far gone he was. His addiction towards you wasn’t just a craving, you are the blood that runs through his veins, the very essence of his very being. His many tattoos of you, (of course tattoos of you expressed through double meanings so that you wouldn’t get suspicious) adorned almost every part of his body. What bliss. He was the snake and you the absolute gorgeous snake charmer.

“Is it alright if I sleep until we arrive?”, your beautiful voice broke him out of a trance.

“Of course.”, he winked at you. His hands tightened around the steering wheel when your eyes closed and his eyes closed as well. He inhaled softly, opened his eyes and continued driving you home. One day he’ll tell you about his feelings. One day he’ll tell you why he seems to know whenever you are in a dangerous situation or in a tight spot. One day he’ll be yours. One hopeful day..

Elliot as a yandere: worshiper, protective and tranquil

Authors note: Omg guys, this is my first post! What do you guys think?☺️

PART TWO ON MY PAGE

Do not copy, rewrite or translate my ideas please :)

[kezdispenser]

Tinsel, Whiskey, and Mistletoe

A Dean Winchester one shot

The bunker always felt a little too cold, a little too big, and a little too much like a military base. Functional, sure, but cozy? Not even close. But this year, you’d decided that was going to change.

It was Christmas Eve, and while Dean, Sam, and Cas were out handling a minor salt-and-burn, you’d spent the entire day turning the bunker into something that vaguely resembled the holidays. You’d raided every thrift store, big-box shop, and craft aisle within a hundred-mile radius, hauling back decorations, lights, and enough tinsel to choke a reindeer.

By the time the guys returned, the bunker looked... different.

Dean was the first to step inside, his boots echoing against the floor before he froze in place. His eyes scanned the room, widening at the sight of garlands strung along the railings, a small but cheerful tree set up in the corner, and stockings hung along the edge of one of the desks.

“What the hell?” he muttered, blinking like he’d walked into an alternate universe.

You popped your head out from behind the tree, holding a string of lights you’d been wrestling with. “Surprise! Merry Christmas, Dean!”

Sam walked in behind him, his eyebrows shooting up. “Whoa. You did all this?”

“Sure did,” you said, grinning as you plugged in the lights. The tree lit up, casting the room in a warm, festive glow. “If we’re gonna spend Christmas in the bunker, we’re doing it right.”

Dean crossed his arms, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You realize this is a secret lair for fighting monsters and saving the world, right? Not Santa’s workshop?”

“Uh-huh. And you realize you’ve spent the last however many years skipping Christmas like it’s the plague?” you shot back. “Not this year, Winchester. You’re having a proper Christmas, and you’re gonna like it.”

Sam chuckled, clearly enjoying Dean’s discomfort. “She’s got a point, Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further, which you took as a win.

The evening felt strangely quiet after dinner, the kind of peaceful stillness that settled in your chest when you were alone with people you cared about. You didn’t want to let the night slip away without showing them just how much they meant to you, how much you appreciated everything they did—even if they didn’t always show it.

When it came time for presents, you couldn’t help yourself. You’d spent weeks getting gifts for all three of them, each one hand-picked with the hope it would mean something to them.

First, you turned to Sam. You handed him a large, neatly wrapped package. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t hesitate to tear into it. His eyes widened when he saw what was inside: a collection of vintage books, including some rare editions on folklore and hunting techniques, as well as a beautiful leather bookmark with his initials engraved on it.

“Holy—wow. You really went all out,” Sam said, clearly surprised. “I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” you said with a soft smile. “I know how much you love your research. Thought these might help.”

Next, you handed Castiel his gift, and he unwrapped it carefully, as if savoring the moment. Inside was a rare celestial map, detailing constellations and star formations. You could see the quiet joy in his eyes as he traced the patterns. You had also thrown in a small hand-carved wooden angel figurine for him, something you knew would resonate with him more than anything store-bought.

“This is... beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and full of appreciation. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

You nodded, trying not to let your emotions overwhelm you. You had always known the angels in his life were complex, but this—this was something tangible that he could hold onto.

Finally, you turned to Dean. His gift was a bit more elaborate—a box that was heavier than he expected. As he opened it, he found a set of custom tools, engraved with his name and a few inside jokes about the number of times he'd complained about broken equipment. You’d even thrown in a high-quality flask, knowing he’d appreciate it on long hunts.

“You didn’t have to get me all this stuff,” Dean said, his voice soft, but there was something in his eyes that made your heart flutter. He stared at the flask for a moment before looking back up at you. “This is... amazing, (Y/N). Thank you.”

You smiled at him, trying to mask the overwhelming sense of love you felt for the three of them. “You guys deserve it,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “For all the shit you go through, for everything you’ve given. You deserve something nice, even if it’s just for tonight.”

Dean reached across the table, brushing his hand over yours in a rare moment of sincerity. “You didn’t have to do all this. But I’m glad you did,” he said, his words heavy, but sincere.

You took a breath, trying to hold back the tears you could feel welling in your eyes. “I wanted to make it special,” you whispered. “For all of us. Even if it’s just for tonight.”

The smiles on their faces were more than you’d hoped for. It wasn’t about the presents—it was about the fact that you cared enough to show them they weren’t alone, that despite the chaos and violence that had always been a part of their lives, there was still room for peace.

And maybe, just maybe, there was room for love.

Later, when Sam and Cas had gone off to their rooms, you found Dean sitting in the war room, nursing a glass of whiskey. The tree’s lights reflected in the amber liquid, casting a warm glow over his face.

“Hey,” you said softly, walking over and sliding into the chair next to him.

He glanced at you, then back at the tree. “This is... a lot.”

You shrugged, resting your chin in your hand. “You guys deserve it. You never take a break, never let yourselves have any normal shit. I just wanted to give you something good for once.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the tree. Then he smirked, shaking his head. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love me for it,” you shot back without thinking.

The words hung in the air for a beat too long. You glanced at him, expecting him to laugh or roll his eyes, but instead, his gaze was locked on yours, intense and unreadable.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low. “Maybe I do.”

Your breath caught as he leaned closer, his whiskey-warmed breath ghosting over your lips. “Mistletoe,” he murmured, his eyes flicking upward.

Your heart flipped when you realized you were sitting directly under the sprig you’d hung earlier. “Cheater,” you whispered, but you were already leaning in.

When his lips met yours, it was soft at first, almost hesitant. But then his hand cupped your jaw, and the kiss deepened, all heat and unspoken feelings pouring out in one perfect moment.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a rare, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

And just like that, the bunker didn’t feel so cold anymore.

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

A/N: Here's a Dean one for you girlies.

[kathlare]

a touch of christmas

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando Norris spends the day Christmas shopping in Monaco, picking out decorations to make his flat special for Amelie’s upcoming visit.

Wordcount: 1.4 k

Warnings: fluff, smau

full masterlist // request over here!

December 12th, 2023 - Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by f1girliee, charlandogeorge, and others

norris.content: Someone did some Christmas shopping 🎄🎁🛍️

View all 356 comments

f1girliee: Monaco Lando shopping for Christmas??? Oh, he’s def hosting a holiday party. 💅✨ → lanfan47: @f1girliee Imagine getting an invite. I’d just show up with mulled wine and vibes. 🎄🥂

f1rumorsdaily: Okay, but where are the pics of him shopping? Was he alone, or are we missing some key details here? 👀 → charlandogeorge: @f1rumorsdaily Y’all just want to know if Amelie was there. Admit it. → f1fandomtea: @f1rumorsdaily The shop workers said he was “talking to someone on FaceTime” though… Bet it’s her. 😏

lanomaniac: Monaco Lando radiates hot boyfriend energy lately, not even gonna lie.

f1insiderfan: Ooooh the holidays are hitting different this year. Is it me, or do Lando and Amelie look like they’re back to being way too cozy lately? 👀

landonorrisforever: He’s been living in Monaco and still didn’t buy his Christmas decorations last minute? A king. 👑

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

Lando Norris adjusted the hood of his hoodie, pulling it further down as he walked through the aisles of the high-end home décor store in Monte Carlo. It was early afternoon, and the store buzzed quietly with the chatter of holiday shoppers. His hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets as he scanned the shelves, his sharp eyes darting from twinkling fairy lights to miniature Christmas trees.

He’d already grabbed a cart full of ornaments—reds and golds, the colors he thought Amelie would love—and had thrown in a couple of scented candles with labels he couldn’t even pronounce, figuring they’d make the place feel cozier. He knew she liked those little touches, the way she always made spaces feel warm and lived-in.

He reached for a snowflake garland when he caught the faint sound of a phone camera clicking. He froze, his jaw tightening. Turning slightly, he spotted a woman a few feet away, her phone angled subtly toward him.

—Brilliant,— Lando muttered under his breath, sighing. He grabbed the garland and tossed it into the cart, deciding to ignore her. It wasn’t like he could do much about it. Being recognized came with the territory, but he couldn’t help feeling annoyed. This wasn’t for the public eye. This wasn’t about racing, or sponsorships, or any of the usual stuff. This was for her. For Amelie.

Shaking off the irritation, Lando pushed his cart toward the checkout line, picking up a final box of fairy lights along the way.

By the time he got back to his car, he was grinning despite himself. He glanced at the pile of bags in the passenger seat and shook his head. He might’ve gone a bit overboard, but he didn’t care.

As he navigated the streets of Monte Carlo back to his building, his phone buzzed on the center console. He glanced at the caller ID and saw Max Fewtrell’s name flashing. Groaning, he hit the hands-free button.

—What do you want?— Lando said with mock irritation as the call connected.

—How’s the shopping going, Santa?— Max teased on the other end.

—Piss off,— Lando retorted, though a grin tugged at the corner of his lips.

—Did you buy the whole store? Or just enough to bankrupt yourself? Because knowing you, you’re trying to impress her, and let me tell you, mate, she’s already dating you. You don’t need to build a bloody palace.—

Lando rolled his eyes as he pulled into the underground garage of his building. —It’s not for impressing her, idiot. It’s just...— he trailed off, struggling to explain without sounding like a sap. —I want it to feel special. It’s her first time coming here since we got together.—

Max snorted. —You’re so whipped. I love it.—

—Shut up. Be useful and help me unload when I’m upstairs.—

—Oh, don’t worry, I’ll help. I need to see this masterpiece in the making. Be there in five.—

By the time Lando had lugged the bags up to his flat and dumped them on the living room floor, Max was already knocking at the door.

—You didn’t even bring one bag up? Lazy git,— Lando said as he opened the door, stepping aside to let Max in.

—Hey, I’m here for moral support, not manual labor,— Max shot back, already grinning as his eyes landed on the sea of decorations strewn across the living room. —Holy shit, mate. You weren’t kidding. This looks like Santa’s workshop exploded in here.—

—It’s not that bad,— Lando said defensively, though even he had to admit it was a bit excessive. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. —Okay, maybe it’s a lot. But it’ll look great once it’s up.—

Max plopped onto the couch, grabbing a box of fairy lights and inspecting it. —So, what’s the plan? You going for classy, romantic, or are we talking full-on cheesy Christmas?—

—Bit of both, I guess? Romantic for her, fun for me.— Lando grinned as he tore into a box of ornaments. —I got these little stockings we can hang up. One for me, one for her. Thought it’d be cute.—

Max raised an eyebrow. —Who are you, and what have you done with Lando Norris? You’re never this thoughtful.—

—It’s different with her,— Lando said simply, shrugging as he pulled out a gold ribbon. —She makes me want to do stuff like this. Makes me... happy.—

Max smirked, leaning back. —Yeah, yeah, you’re soft as hell. I get it. But you know, you’re going to have to stop acting like you don’t care about her in public. People are starting to notice, mate. I saw some fans talking about you being in New York last week.—

Lando’s jaw tensed. —I know. It’s tricky, though. We’re not ready to go public yet, and I don’t want to fuck it up for her.— He sighed, running a hand through his hair. —She’s been through a lot with people prying into her life. I just want to keep this ours for a bit longer.—

Max nodded, uncharacteristically serious for a moment. —Fair enough. But you know they’re going to figure it out sooner or later. You’re shit at hiding how much you like her.—

Lando chuckled, shaking his head as he started stringing fairy lights around the window. —Yeah, well, let’s just hope it’s later. For now, I just want to make this place perfect for her.—

A few hours later, the flat had been transformed. Twinkling lights adorned every surface, the tiny tree in the corner sparkled with ornaments, and the scent of cinnamon and pine filled the air from the candles Lando had scattered around. The stockings hung neatly on the wall, and the sofa had a new blanket draped over it—a soft red one he’d picked out because it reminded him of Christmas mornings.

Max stood back, hands on his hips as he surveyed their work. —You know, this isn’t half bad. She’s going to love it.—

Lando smiled, a bit of nervous energy bubbling in his chest. —You think so?—

—Mate, if she doesn’t, she’s insane. Or blind. Or both.— Max grinned, clapping him on the back. —Now, let’s hope she doesn’t laugh at you for the stupid reindeer figurines.—

—Oi, those are classy,— Lando shot back, though he laughed along with Max.

As they collapsed onto the couch, Max nudged him. —You’ve got it bad, Norris.—

Lando didn’t deny it. He stared at the lights twinkling in the dimmed room, already imagining Amelie’s reaction when she walked through the door. Maybe it was a bit much, but for her, it was worth it. Every damn bit.

[sweetsugarcakes]

Azula Mai and tylee making out with reader under mistletoe

With a little reaction of them being picked up while making out by reader

kissing under the mistletoe

Ozai Angels

Azula

⚡️she is soemtimes NOT in the holiday spirit 😭 but having the chance to kiss you…she’ll follow through

⚡️when you saw you two were in the mistletoe she hid her red tint cheeks and just mumbled about making sure don’t do specific things

⚡️you shut her up by kissing her which made her surprised and angry at first but once she felt it was nice she melted into it

⚡️after a while you just started making out u til you wanted to see how she’ll react if you picked her up so you did and her eyes widened and pulled away.

⚡️she would say, “hey I didn’t tell you to do that put me down!” You put her down since you saw how angry she was and you didn’t want to push her anger further. Although she didn’t show it…she enjoyed it A LOT

⚡️she made you do that again

Mai

🔪she’s almost like Azula she’s really not into the Christmas spirit that much [she finds it too joyful/annoying]

🔪 she was at first refusing to do any holiday traditions but then she really thought about it and since it made you happy she did them with you

🔪when she saw you two are under the mistletoe she knew was it was. With her small smirk she said “I guess we have to kiss now.”

🔪you smile and nod as you two leaned for award to kiss. You were about to pull away but she held onto you not wanting you to pull away. So that resulted into you two making out.

🔪then we got really into you picked her up which made her eyes open but she did t react or anything she just kept going until you two were breathless.

🔪she asked you what was that all about as you just said you got carried away. She told you that she liked it and wouldn’t mind if you get carried away like that more.

Ty lee

💗to be fair this girl LOVES the holidays total opposite of her two friends. She would to every holiday tradition

💗she would drag you under the mistletoe and just act like she didn’t see it. “Oh no I guess you have to kiss me now”

💗you laughed at her as she laughed back knowing what she was doing. You leaned and kissed her which she almost immediately returned back

💗slowly by surely you two go into it since it was romantic and just overall comfortable showing your love to one another

💗then you picked her up as she blushed and made a soft yelp. Then she pressed herself more and wrapped her legs around your waist. After a while you two were panting like crazy.

💗she looked at with a smile and giggle. “This is really comfortable and nice”

[slut4prongs]

Could you please write a part two with a happy ending to Sirius Blacks first fight? I’m a happy ending girl too and it’s killing me that it ends like that! 😂

sirius black x reader

part 2 to this

very willing to finish this as a happy ending

Its been two weeks since your fight with Sirius. Actually its been two weeks since you last even saw him seeing as two days after the fight everyone was heading home for the holidays.

And now, as you stand in your fire place on new years eve, preparing to use the floo network to get to the Potters for a party, you are panicking.

Two weeks. Two weeks away from Sirius was all it took for you to realize you didn’t want to be away from him, but what he did was wrong, and he never apologized.

So you were panicking, scared that the second you saw his stupid, perfect, flawless face, you’d be apologizing, retracting your previous argument, even when you still stand by what you said.

So with one last deep breath, you throw down the floo powder and speak ‘Potter’s Manor’

Moments after you appear in the Potter boys fireplace, you are pulled from it by an already tipsy James.

“Y/n, you’re here!”

Accepting the uncoordinated hug he’s giving you, you laugh softly at him.

“Yes James, how-”

You’re quickly cut off by a familiar voice,

“Oi, Prongs, who are you over here harassing now”

James quickly, or as quickly as he can with his current state, releases you from his arms and looks at the source of the voice behind you.

You turn to face Sirius, mentally preparing yourself, yet again, to see his stupid flawless face.

Only this time, you’re not greeted by a flawless face. No, there’s actually a flaw, one big one. A big black eye.

Of course you know of Sirius’ home life, but never had you seen him with a bruise like this. His parents always seemed to make sure the abuse the enacted was hidden away.

Apparently you had been staring, mouth slightly agape, at Sirius’ eye for long enough for James to have wandered away, and for Sirius to feel the need to regain your attention.

“Hello? Y/n?”

Blinking harshly a few times to pull yourself out of your trance.

“Hm? Sorry, Hi, Sirius.”

Sirius can’t stop the small smile that forms on his face hearing his name coming from your lips.

“How was your christmas?” He questions you, pulling you even further from the trance your still kind of in.

“It was nice, missed my family. How was yours?”

You felt silly asking him that, obviously it couldn’t have been good. Unless the only thing on his christmas list was a bruised eye.

Sirius’ answer abruptly ripped you out of your thoughts. “It was really good actually,” he pause and smiled softly, not his usual smirk, but a genuine smile that looked like he couldn’t help but do it.

“Spent it here, with the Potters.” He continued, which made your lips part in shock for the second time this evening.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m, uh, actually living here now. But, um, would you mind going upstairs to talk, I have a lot I need to tell you.”

“Oh, yeah, sure-” You start before getting interrupted yet again, this time by Marlene grabbing your arm.

“Y/n! You’re here! C’mon we need to get you a drink.”

With that she pulls you away from Sirius and towards the table that has a spread of various liquids on it.

—

A few hours pass, only around 20 minutes left until midnight, and you’ve still yet to stumble upon Sirius again.

That is until you are stepping out of the bathroom and straight into a hard surface, Sirius’ chest. His arms speedily wrap around your waist, much to fast for someone who was drunk, which leads you to believe he hadn’t drunk which is very unlike him.

He keeps his hands on your waist when he looks down at you, “You okay?”

“Mhm, Sorry Siri” Immediately after the words left your mouth you’re mentally berating yourself for it, the stupid nickname just slipped out.

Sirius doesn’t seem to notice or at least if he did he didn’t show it.

He removes his arms from your body and takes a small step back to give you your personal space.

“Could we maybe talk now? My rooms right there,” He is picking at the skin around his nails as he talks, a nervous habit of his you could recognize anywhere.

You can’t stop yourself from reaching out with your own hand to take one of his, as to stop his picking.

“Sure, Sirius” You give him the warmest smile you can muster up, but you’re 99% sure it was more a nervous smile than anything.

He doesn’t release your hand but instead uses it to guide you a few feet down the hall into his bedroom.

Scanning the room while Sirius shuts the door, you notice that his room is lacking in anything very personal, that is barring 3 things.

The first being a drawing of his star and his brothers that they drew together as kids taped to the wall, the next being a small stuffed lion you had given him in second year when he was upset that Regulus was sorted into a different house.

And the final thing being a set of photos from a muggle photo booth taped up on the wall next to the drawing, they are of the two of you on your third date when you snuck out of school to show Sirius a muggle carnival.

Sirius steps around you to take a seat on the end of his bed and pats the spot next to him for you to sit.

The moment you sit down next to him, he quickly turns to look at you and speak.

“I just wanted to tell you how sorry i am, for everything.”

“Sirius, I-”

“Y/n, please just let me say this,”

You stay silent, and nod to let him know to continue.

“You don’t have to forgive me, but I just felt like you deserve an explanation. I have no idea why I let that girl flirt with me, and I especially don’t know why I did it back. It isn’t fun, I don’t enjoy flirting with anyone but you. No one else scrunches up their nose and blushes when I compliment them like you do. No one else’s entire face turns red and hides in my neck when I kiss their head, not that I’m kissing anyone else’s head, by the way.”

You giggle softly at the was he rushes out the last part and he smiles.

“And that, no one else has a laugh that makes me want to do as many stupid things as I can just to hear it, no matter the consequence. I think I flirted back with her because I was scared, that if i wasn’t the same flirty, confident, ‘I don’t care about anything’ person, no one would like me anymore. But I realized, I really don’t care if they like me, I just want you to like me.”

You let out a shaky breath before speaking, “Sirius,”

“Hold on, I’ve still got more.”

That makes you burst out into a fit of giggles for a minute until you can calm yourself down.

“Okay, okay, continue.”

He’s grinning at you ear to ear when you look back at him when you speak.

“Thank you,” He chuckles

“I’m also sorry that I don’t know how to love you the way you deserve. I know that you deserve better than me, and I planned to leave you alone so you could find that. But after my parents beat the shit out of me a week ago and I had a few minutes to grab some of my stuff and run, the first thing I grabbed were our pictures. I know its selfish, but I love you so much that i can’t help but be selfish when it comes to you, I don’t want you to go find someone else who can love you better, I want you to help me learn how to love you right.”

When he finishes there are tears building up in your eyes, threatening to fall down your cheeks.

A small “Sirius..” is all you manage before the tears to fall and you wrap your arms around his waist and burying your head into his chest.

“Oh, darling, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He murmurs softly into your ear as he begins to run one of his hands up and down your back, soothingly, and the other through your hair.

“How can you say things like that and not expect me to cry?” You say through sobs, squeezing your arms around him tighter.

“Oh sweetheart,” Is all his says as he continues the movements with his hands until you calm down and pull back from his arms.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that.”

“Please don’t be sorry, all I’ve wanted since I ran away was to hug you.”

That makes you frown a little before you reach out and grab his hand.

“Sirius, I forgive you, and I miss you so so much, I was to harsh when I told you that you weren’t good at loving people. Its not your fault your parents are pricks,”

Sirius laughs fully at that, and squeezes your hand tighter.

“I shouldn’t have handled that situation the way I did. I was acting purely out of jealousy and wasn’t being rational. I’m not saying what you did was okay, but I understand why you did it, and I believe you when you say you won’t again.”

Sirius’ faces grows into a bigger smile the more you speak.

“So what does this mean?” He questions excitedly.

“It means that I want you to be selfish, I want to teach you what it feels to really love, and I especially want to be your girlfriend again.”

Sirius jumps to his feet and pulls you up with him and into his arms to hug you.

“Oh thank Merlin, I think I would have died without you.”

You smile against his neck from the position he has you stuck in.

“There’s my drama queen, oh how I missed you.” You tease and he pulls away from the hug slightly.

“Oh, you-” He starts but cuts himself off when the sound of everyone down stairs counting down from 10 can be heard.

He looks down at you and smiles.

10..

9..

8..

7..

He leans closer to your face, and moves one of his hands to push a lock of hair behind your ear and rests it on you cheek.

4..

3..

2..

You stand up on your toes so that your lips brush lightly against one another’s.

1..

“Happy new years, my love.” Sirius whispers against your lips.

“Happy new years, Siri.” You respond before standing up a little taller to fully press your lips together into a deep passionate kiss.

You break away a few moments later, foreheads resting against one another, heavy breathing matched up, and the yelling cheers of your friends celebrating down stairs.

“I love you, Sirius.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

Theres a sudden crash and the sound of breaking glass down stairs along with someone yelling “James!” that breaks you both out of your lovesick trance.

You both groan, and separate from each other except for your hands which are still clasped together.

You head out into the hall before you speak again.

“Oh and we need to circle back to your parents beating the shit out of you,”

“Shit, I thought I distracted you enough that you’d forget about that.”

“Sirius. What?!”

[amilovesworld]

Checkered Hearts|| 2||

Chapter 1| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5|

Summery: Y/n, a young journalist chasing her dream in the world of sports, never imagined her path would lead her to F1—or to Carlos Sainz Jr., a driver whose charm and sarcasm quickly blur the lines between professional rivalry and something more. As they clash, argue, and share unexpected moments, Y/n's life is turned upside down, forcing her to make choices she never saw coming. But in a world of speed, fame, and pressure, can she hold on to everything she’s worked for, or will she find herself racing toward something—someone—she never planned for?

Genre: Fluff/ Enemies to lovers/ Slow burn

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr. x Indian reader

Warnings: looonnng Chapters, long series, slow burn, eventual smut.

Chapter: 2

Y/n sat at her desk, the hum of the office around her barely registering as she mentally checked out. The 2025 F1 season had finally wrapped up, and after months of chaos and bickering with Carlos Sainz and the rest of the team, she was looking forward to some peace and quiet. Her plans were simple: head back to her, spend time with her family, maybe do some hiking in the snowy mountains she loved so much. Just her, the crisp air, and the serenity of nature.

She hadn’t expected anyone to take her holiday plans seriously. After all, it was just a passing comment during an idle chat in the office.

But of course, that was when her boss had to overhear.

“So, Y/n,” her colleague asked, poking his head into her cubicle. “What’s the plan for the holidays?”

Without thinking, she replied, “Probably going hiking in the snowy mountains. Need to reconnect with nature, you know?”

Before she could even finish her sentence, her boss, Mr. Grant, appeared from behind her. “Perfect!” he declared enthusiastically, his face lighting up. “We’ll send you on an all-paid vacation to cover a training camp in the Alps!”

Y/n blinked, unsure if she had heard him correctly. “Sorry?”

Mr. Grant smiled, clearly pleased with himself. “You said you wanted to hike in the snowy mountains, right? Well, we want you to document a training camp. It’s a win-win!”

Her stomach churned. She had already been planning this for months—time away from work to recharge, to feel at home again. “Wait, hold on. I didn’t mean for work—I meant with my family. I was just...”

Her boss cut her off with a sharp look. “No need to explain. It’s the perfect opportunity. You’ll be accompanying Team 55 to their camp in the Alps for a docuseries we’re working on. We’ve already assigned other journalists to other drivers as well, team 55’s journalist had to back off last minute, but we found you. I know you’ll do great. It’ll be a fantastic piece of work for your portfolio.”

Y/n felt her chest tighten. This wasn’t just an inconvenience; it was a punch to the gut. She had been looking forward to spending time with her family, recharging in her peaceful, familiar world. But now, her holiday was going to be hijacked by a work assignment. A work assignment that she never signed up for.

“I—I really can’t,” she tried to argue, her frustration rising. “I don’t have the time to—”

Her boss cut her off, his tone suddenly cold. “If you can’t handle a little flexibility, maybe you should have stuck to your corporate job. Journalism isn’t for you, Y/n. It’s a demanding field. If you want to go on vacation, you’ll need to be flexible.”

He paused, eyeing her with a hint of finality. “And if you’re serious about this career, Team 55’s training camp in the Alps is your next assignment. That’s where you’ll be going. It’s already been arranged. You’ll be documenting it as part of our docuseries. Take it or leave it.”

Y/n felt her face burn with anger. She opened her mouth to argue further, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, a cold, tight knot settled in her stomach. The one thing she had been looking forward to—spending time with her family in the peaceful mountains—was slipping through her fingers. Her holiday was being stolen from her, and in its place was a job that felt more like a punishment than an opportunity.

But the real blow didn’t come until she heard the last piece of information that Mr. Grant casually dropped.

“Team 55 will be there. You’ll be covering Carlos Sainz and his team. I’m sure you’ll get along with them.”

Her heart dropped.

Carlos Sainz. Of course.

She had spent the last few months dealing with him—his smug grins, his charming persona, his irritating presence. Every time she thought she had gotten the better of their interactions, he somehow managed to make her feel like she was back at square one. And now, her family time, her peaceful escape, was going to be tainted by him, by Team 55, by everything she hated about this job and this career.

How could she get away from this?

As she stood there, her throat tight with the sting of betrayal, she felt her vision blur. She wasn’t even sure if it was anger or frustration that was making her want to cry. Probably a mix of both. All she could think about was how much Carlos Sainz had ruined her life since that first fateful encounter. The coffee spill, the endless arguments, the constant feeling of being undermined. And now, he was going to be the one ruining her so-called “holiday” as well.

Why was everything in her life so entangled with him?

Two days later, Y/n found herself on a plane to the Alps, her camera gear packed and her nerves on edge. When she arrived at the training camp, snow blanketed the landscape, and the crisp mountain air stung her cheeks. She couldn’t deny the beauty of the place, but her mood soured the moment she spotted Carlos Sainz standing near the team’s cabin, laughing with his trainer.

He turned and saw her, his eyes narrowing in recognition. Then, as if on cue, his trademark smirk appeared.

“Well, well,” he said, sauntering over. “I didn’t know you’d be joining us. Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

Y/n’s jaw tightened. “Trust me, Sainz, I’d rather be anywhere else.”

His smirk widened, and he leaned in slightly. “Careful. You might end up enjoying this trip more than you think.”

Her glare could have melted the snow beneath their feet. This was going to be the longest assignment of her life.

___________________________________

The first few days of the training camp were nothing short of grueling—for both Y/n and her sanity. Every day began with her documenting Carlos’s rigorous workouts: running along snowy trails, intense strength training, and those absurdly long hikes that left her questioning if her job description had secretly included becoming a mountain goat.

But it wasn’t the physical exertion that was breaking her. No, it was him.

Carlos Sainz was everywhere—his smug face, his infuriating comments, and that cocky smirk she couldn’t seem to escape.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re not the one in training?” Carlos teased as she panted up a particularly steep incline, her camera swaying on its strap.

“Shut up, Sainz,” she snapped, glaring at him through the lens.

“Just saying,” he said, jogging backward effortlessly. “You’re struggling, and I haven’t even started sweating yet.”

Y/n gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to chuck her camera at his perfectly tousled head.

The camp consisted of seven people: Carlos, his four trainers, his girlfriend Elena, and Y/n. While the trainers were polite and professional, and Elena was surprisingly warm and friendly, Carlos was the thorn in her side. And worse, Elena’s presence only added salt to her wounds—not because Y/n had any feelings for Carlos, but because Elena’s easy going demeanor made her feel like she was the problem in this entire equation.

Elena often sat near Y/n, chatting during breaks. “You’re doing such a great job,” she said one afternoon, handing Y/n a cup of tea as they sat on a snowy bench.

“Thanks,” Y/n mumbled, sipping the warm drink and glaring at Carlos, who was doing push-ups in the snow like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“He’s not that bad, you know,” Elena said with a smile, following Y/n’s line of sight.

Y/n let out a bitter laugh. “Not that bad? He’s the most annoying human being I’ve ever met.”

Elena chuckled. “That’s just Carlos. He loves to tease people. But once you get to know him, you’ll see he’s got a good heart.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “I’ll take your word for it.”

That night, Y/n found herself in a rare moment of peace, sitting on the couch in her cabin’s Patio with a cup of tea and chatting with her best friends, Angelina and Meera, over a video call. While everyone else was sleeping, giving her some space to vent.

“I swear to God, I’m cursed,” Y/n groaned, dropping onto the couch as her friends’ faces appeared on her laptop screen.

“What happened now?” Angelina asked, already grinning like she knew a juicy story was coming.

Y/n threw her hands up dramatically. “What hasn’t happened? I’m living in a nightmare. There’s an eclipse on my happiness, and it’s called Carlos Sainz.”

Both Angelina and Meera burst into laughter, their voices echoing through the call.

“An eclipse on your happiness? I love it,” Meera wheezed, barely able to catch her breath. “That’s poetic.”

“It’s true!” Y/n exclaimed, gripping her tea mug tightly, the liquid inside sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “He’s like this… this walking, talking annoyance factory. I think he actually gets joy out of making my life harder.”

Angelina leaned forward, wiggling her eyebrows. “Sounds like someone else is living rent-free in your head.”

Y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Oh, please. He’s the one who actively seeks me out just to torture me. The man has a Ph.D. in being insufferable. I spend every day thinking about creative ways to ‘accidentally’ lose him on a hike.”

Meera smirked. “Let me guess. He’s the most arrogant, insufferable—”

“Hot?” Angelina interjected.

“Annoying!” Y/n snapped, though her flushed cheeks betrayed her indignation.

Angelina grinned mischievously. “Y/n, honey, this is classic enemies-to-lovers. The banter, the tension, the sparks—”

“There are no sparks!” Y/n cut in, exasperated. “Only flames of fury. He makes me want to scream.”

“Uh-huh,” Meera said, her smirk widening. “Scream his name?”

Y/n’s mouth fell open as her cheeks burned crimson. “MEERA!” she shrieked, nearly spilling her tea.

Angelina collapsed into laughter, clutching her sides. “Oh my god, Meera, you’re a menace.”

“Thank you,” Meera said, giving an exaggerated bow. “I try my best.”

Y/n groaned, slumping into the couch. “Why do I even talk to you two? You’re supposed to be supportive, not… whatever this is.”

“We are supportive,” Angelina replied, wiping away tears of laughter. “We’re supporting your journey to self-discovery.”

“What self-discovery?” Y/n grumbled, glaring at the screen.

“That you’re—” Angelina began, but Y/n cut her off with a glare.

“Don’t. Even.”

Angelina just grinned wider. “Yo, imagine if he heard this. Like, he’s just standing outside your door, smirking like he owns the world.”

“Good,” Y/n huffed. “Then he’d know exactly how much he’s ruining my life.”

Unbeknownst to her, Carlos was leaning casually against the patio wall outside her cabin, water bottle in hand. He had come to deliver a message from the trainers but had stopped short when he heard his name. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he listened to her dramatic venting, his grin growing wider with every insult.

Back inside, Y/n was still mid-rant. “And another thing! Who jogs backward up a snowy hill? He’s like an overachieving golden retriever!”

Angelina and Meera were doubled over, barely able to breathe. “Oh my god, Y/n, please write this down,” Angelina wheezed. “I need this energy in my life forever.”

“Write it down?” Y/n groaned. “I’m living it. He’s turned my life into a sitcom.”

Carlos shook his head, chuckling softly to himself. An eclipse on her happiness? He made a mental note to use that line later.

The next morning, Carlos was ready.

“Morning, Y/n,” he said brightly as she shuffled into the training area, her camera in hand and her face still half-asleep.

She eyed him suspiciously. “Why are you so chipper? What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he replied innocently, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement. “But I was wondering—how’s the eclipse on your happiness this morning?”

Y/n froze, her eyes widening in horror. “What did you just say?”

Carlos’s grin turned wicked. “Oh, nothing. Just something I might’ve overheard last night.”

“You were eavesdropping?” she hissed, her cheeks flaming.

“Not intentionally,” he said, clearly enjoying himself. “But next time, maybe don’t have a full-volume vent session on your patio if you don’t want me to hear.” He paused for a second then continued "I have to say, I’m flattered. Overachieving golden retriever? That’s a new one.”

Y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” he replied confidently, jogging off toward the trail. “But you’re welcome to keep pretending.”

Despite her threats and glares, Y/n couldn’t deny the grudging respect she was developing for Carlos. His work ethic was unmatched, his dedication inspiring. But, as always, admiration quickly turned into exasperation.

“You’re supposed to take photos of my workouts, not selfies,” Carlos commented one afternoon, holding out her camera with a raised brow.

“It’s called checking the lighting,” Y/n snapped, snatching the camera back. “Not that you’d understand.”

“Of course,” he said, his smirk firmly in place. “Though the lighting on your blurry photos is… questionable at best.”

She glared at him. “Keep it up, Sainz. I might just ‘accidentally’ lose you on the next hike.”

He grinned. “You’d miss me.”

“I’d celebrate,” she shot back, stomping away.

After a grueling day of ice baths and mountain runs, Y/n sat alone by the campfire, reviewing the day’s footage.

“Still planning my murder?”

She jumped, startled, as Carlos appeared out of nowhere and sat beside her, his hair damp from the ice bath.

“Don’t tempt me,” she muttered, not looking up from her laptop.

He chuckled, his voice lower than usual. “I have to give you credit, though. You’re good at what you do.”

She glanced at him, surprised. “Is that... a compliment?”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, leaning back with his signature smirk.

And just like that, their fleeting moment of peace dissolved. Y/n rolled her eyes and returned to her work, vowing that no amount of charm—or damp curls—would change her mind about him.

_____________________________________

Y/n stood frozen in the doorway, her heart pounding as she took in the scene before her. Elena, who had been nothing but friendly to her, was in the middle of a passionate kiss with Hugh, one of Carlos’s trainers. The sight caught her completely off guard, and for a moment, all she could do was stare, her brain struggling to make sense of what she was witnessing.

Elena pulled away first, her face flushed with embarrassment. “It’s not what it looks like, Y/n,” she stammered, her hands raised in defense.

Hugh, looking equally flustered, tried to explain, “Let me explain, Y/n—”

But before either of them could continue, a voice cut through the air, sharp and unmistakable.

“Don’t tell me you both couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

Y/n’s gaze snapped toward Carlos, who had just entered, his eyes narrowing at the scene. For a second, she felt a flicker of sympathy for him. This was clearly something that caught him off guard, too. But before she could say anything to him, he continued in his usual cocky tone, “She’s not cheating on me. I know.”

Y/n’s jaw nearly dropped. Wait—what? Her mind couldn’t process what he had just said. It felt like everything around her was spiraling into chaos. Elena was dating Hugh, but Carlos had just casually admitted that he knew about it?

Carlos, looking unfazed, turned to the two, his voice colder now. “Take your business elsewhere.”

As if on cue, Hugh and Elena quickly gathered themselves and left, leaving Y/n alone with Carlos. She opened her mouth to say something, but her words caught in her throat when he grabbed her hand and dragged her away.

For a moment, she was too stunned to resist. It wasn’t until they were outside, away from the others, that she managed to speak. “Are you in an open relationship?” she asked, her voice a mix of incredulity and disbelief.

Carlos let out a small laugh, shaking his head. “No.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before continuing, his voice quieter than usual. “Well... nothing can cover this up, so here it is. Elena and I... we’re not in a relationship.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. What?

“She’s dating Hugh,” Carlos continued, his gaze steady. “But she’s a model, and I’m—well, I’m me. Our PR teams made us a thing. It was a win-win for both sides: they could travel together without any trouble, and my team could feed off the publicity.”

For a brief moment, Y/n thought she detected a hint of sadness in his voice, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. The entire revelation was so overwhelming that it took a moment for her to process it all.

Carlos looked at her, his expression earnest. “Please, I beg you... don’t make this a story. It’s not just about me—it’s about Elena and Hugh too. Their careers don’t need this kind of drama.”

Y/n blinked, stunned by the plea. Her anger flared, and for a split second, she almost felt sorry for him—almost. “Are you out of your mind, Carlos?” she snapped, jerking her hand out of his grasp. “I hate you, but even for you, this is low. Do you have any idea what kind of mess this could cause?”

Carlos looked at her with a mixture of confusion and something she couldn’t quite place, but she wasn’t interested in figuring it out right now.

“If this comes out, your reputation is done for,” she continued, her voice rising with anger. “But if their relationship goes public, she’ll be labeled a cheater—and that’s just as messed up. Oh my God, how can a man with so much money and resources be so stupid? Ugh!”

She shook her head, pacing in front of him, feeling her frustration building. “And you know what? I’m a sports journalist! I’m here to cover your training—not to write Page 3 gossip columns about your messed-up PR stunt. Sure, I’d make a lot of money off it, but no! And my boss? He deserves everything he gets for ruining my vacation!”

Carlos watched her, his expression unreadable. But there was something in his eyes—something she couldn’t quite decipher. It was almost as if she had said something that shifted something deeper inside him.

Y/n turned to walk away, her mind still racing with everything she had just learned. “Fix this, Carlos,” she said over her shoulder. “Before it gets messy. And fire your PR.”

Carlos watched her as she left, his mind racing. For the first time in a long while, he felt something deeper than the usual annoyance or attraction when it came to Y/n. There was something in the way she had reacted, the way she cared about the mess he’d made. He realized, then, that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her for weeks, but now it felt... different. Her words had hit him on a deeper level than he expected.

He leaned against the wall, his eyes distant. It wasn’t just the frustration he felt around her—it was something else. Something he couldn’t quite name yet, but it was there, gnawing at him.

________________________________________

The announcement of Carlos and Elena’s "mutual breakup" sent ripples across social media and the F1 world, but it was carefully crafted to avoid any controversy. The press release was polished, emphasizing their “decision to remain good friends” while quietly brushing the truth under the rug. Elena, understanding the weight of the situation, decided to leave the training camp early to avoid raising any suspicions or creating an awkward environment.

Carlos, true to his word, started looking for a new PR team. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief as he distanced himself from the manufactured narrative of his personal life. But amidst the chaos of restructuring his image, he began noticing something else—Y/n.

Their arguments, once a daily occurrence, started to dwindle. Carlos didn’t know when exactly it happened, but he found himself dialing back his teasing comments and quick jabs. Maybe it was the way she had stood up for Elena’s messy situation, or maybe it was the reality of what he had been hiding from everyone, including himself. Either way, he couldn’t deny that he had developed a newfound respect for her.

Meanwhile, He confided in Lando one evening, recounting the entire ordeal and his shifting dynamic with Y/n. Lando was the first to know about the whole PR disaster, burst out laughing over the phone.

“I can’t believe you begged her not to spill the story! Man, you’ve really gone soft,” Lando teased.

“I didn’t beg,” Carlos protested, though his defensive tone made it clear he had, in fact, begged.

“Sure, sure,” Lando said, still chuckling. “But seriously, you and Y/n. There’s something there, isn’t there?”

Carlos rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. “No, there isn’t. She hates me, and I—”

“You don’t hate her,” Lando interrupted. “You’re just too stubborn to admit you like her. Besides, you’ve stopped bickering with her every five minutes. That’s progress.”

Carlos didn’t respond, but Lando’s words lingered in his mind longer than he cared to admit.

_____________________________________________

That evening, Carlos wandered into the common room to grab a drink when he spotted Y/n sitting by the fireplace with her laptop propped up, a phone balanced precariously on her shoulder. Her voice was softer than usual, laced with warmth as she spoke in Hindi, laughing at something someone on the other end said.

Curious but respectful, Carlos stayed at a distance, pretending to scroll through his phone while stealing occasional glances at her. He didn’t understand the words, but the tone was unmistakable—it was the sound of home.

When the call ended, Y/n lowered her phone with a sigh, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her laptop. She stared at the screen for a moment before quickly wiping at her cheeks.

Carlos hesitated. He wasn’t the type to comfort people—it wasn’t exactly his forte—but something about seeing her like this tugged at him. Before he could talk himself out of it, he walked over and sat down across from her.

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice softer than she was used to.

Y/n quickly wiped at her face again and forced a smile. “Hey. What do you want, Sainz?”

He ignored the defensive tone and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You okay?”

She scoffed, but it lacked her usual bite. “Why do you care?”

“Because you look like you could use a friend,” he said simply, his brown eyes sincere.

That caught her off guard. She blinked at him, unsure whether to brush him off or let her guard down. But something about the way he was looking at her—without any of his usual smirk or sarcasm—made her cave.

“It’s nothing,” she mumbled, looking away. “I just... I miss my family. I was supposed to be with them right now, not here documenting your every move.”

Carlos nodded, understanding in a way she didn’t expect. “I get it. Being away from family—it sucks. Even if it’s for something you love doing.”

Her eyes flicked back to him, surprised by the empathy in his voice. “You do?”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah. I don’t get to see mine as much as I’d like. This job—it takes you everywhere, but sometimes it feels like you’re nowhere, you know?”

She nodded slowly, her defenses melting away. “Yeah. Exactly.”

For the first time, they weren’t sniping at each other or trading insults. Instead, they talked. Really talked. Y/n found herself sharing stories about Landour the warmth of her family, and how she missed her mother’s cooking.

Carlos listened, genuinely interested, and even shared a few of his own stories about his family and growing up in Madrid. He was careful not to pry too much, but the way he offered his own experiences made her feel... seen.

By the end of the night, something between them had shifted. When Y/n finally stood up to head to her room, Carlos smiled at her.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

She paused, glancing back at him. For the first time, her smile was genuine. “Goodnight, Carlos.”

That night, Carlos lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t know what had changed, but he knew one thing for certain—his feelings for Y/n weren’t just annoyance or attraction anymore.

_________________________________________________________

Y/n had been on edge all day, frustrated with herself as she hiked up the steep path in the Alps, her camera bouncing slightly against her chest with every step. What was supposed to be a simple, peaceful hike—a chance to document the breathtaking scenery and escape the intensity of the training camp—was now just another thing that felt out of sync. Weeks of pent-up frustration boiled beneath the surface, and the silence she had hoped would clear her mind only seemed to magnify her worries.

Carlos had insisted on coming along when she mentioned her plans, despite her clear insistence that she could handle it alone. “I’m perfectly capable, you know,” she had said, narrowing her eyes.

Carlos had shrugged, unbothered by her tone. “Sure, you are. But who’s going to save you when you trip over your own determination?”

Now, he was a few paces behind her, silent but undeniably present. She couldn’t see him, but she felt him—that magnetic pull that seemed to follow her everywhere these days. And he wasn’t the same Carlos she had met at the start of the camp. His teasing had softened, his flirtations had grown bolder, and his proximity had become a constant. It was... unsettling. Annoying. Distracting.

But Y/n had more pressing concerns, like finding the perfect angle to capture the golden rays of sunlight breaking over the jagged peaks. She adjusted her camera strap and pressed forward, determined to focus.

Then, her foot slipped on loose gravel. It happened so fast she barely had time to process it. She yelped as she hit the ground hard, her ankle twisting awkwardly beneath her. The camera flew from her hands and landed with a sickening crack against the rocks. Pain flared in her leg, but her eyes immediately darted to her camera, panic rising in her chest.

“No, no, no,” she muttered, scrambling to sit up despite the sharp pain in her ankle. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the shattered lens. “Great. Just great. This is exactly what I needed.”

Carlos was there in an instant, his usual playful expression replaced with one of genuine concern. “Y/n!” His voice was sharp, urgent. “Are you okay?”

“My camera’s broken,” she replied, her voice trembling as she stared at it. “Oh, God, my boss is going to kill me.”

Carlos crouched beside her, his brows knitting together. “Your ankle, Y/n. Focus.”

“I’m fine,” she snapped, though her wince when she shifted told a different story. “It’s just a sprain. I’ll manage. But my camera—”

“Forget the camera!” Carlos’s voice rose, cutting her off. His hands hovered over her ankle, careful not to touch it yet. “It’s replaceable. You’re not.”

She glared at him, her frustration rising. “Do you think saying that makes this better? That camera was expensive, and now it’s useless.”

Carlos sighed, running a hand through his hair. “And so will you be if you keep pretending you’re not hurt.”

Y/n huffed, crossing her arms. “I said I’m fine.”

“You’re as fine as a car with a flat tire,” Carlos muttered, his gaze dropping to her ankle. Carlos’s jaw tightened, but instead of arguing, he shifted closer and gently reached for her ankle. “Can you at least let me check it?”

Y/n hesitated, caught off guard by the tenderness in his voice. Reluctantly, she nodded. He inspected her ankle with surprising care, his touch light but steady. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had been this... attentive.

“It’s swollen,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You’re not walking back on this.”

“I’ll walk just fine,” she countered stubbornly. “I don’t need your help.”

Carlos’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smirk like he usually would. Instead, he stood and extended a hand to her. “You’re not walking back alone, Y/n. Either I help you, or I carry you. Your choice.”

She glared at him, debating whether sheer willpower could get her up without his help. But the throbbing in her ankle made the decision for her. With a resigned sigh, she took his hand.

“There. Was that so hard?” he teased as he helped her to her feet, his arm slipping around her waist to steady her.

“You’re so annoying,” she muttered under her breath, though a small part of her appreciated the support.

Carlos grinned, his usual playfulness returning. “You keep saying that, but I think you secretly like it. Admit it, Y/n. You’d miss me if I wasn’t here.”

“Miss you?” she shot back, narrowing her eyes. “I’d be thriving without you. Do you know how peaceful this hike would’ve been if you weren’t trailing me like a lost puppy?”

“Peaceful?” Carlos raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “You call slipping on gravel and breaking your camera peaceful?”

Y/n groaned. “Why are you like this? Can’t you just be normal for five minutes?”

He pretended to think for a moment. “Normal is boring. Besides, you’d hate me if I were normal. You’d miss this charm.”

“Charm?” she scoffed. “Is that what we’re calling it now? Because I’m pretty sure it’s just a chronic annoyance.”

Carlos laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Call it whatever you want, Y/n. But I’m not going anywhere.”

As they hobbled back toward Villa, the banter between them flowed easily, a comfortable rhythm that seemed to overshadow the ache in her ankle and the broken camera. When they finally reached villa, Carlos eased her onto a bench, his hand lingering on her back just a second too long. Y/n glanced up at him, her irritation mingling with something else—something she wasn’t ready to name.

“You’ve been... different lately,” she said, her voice softer now.

Carlos’s gaze met hers, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Different how?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “Never mind.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between her eyes and her lips, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m always different, Y/n. Just pay attention.”

She was about to retort when his hand brushed against hers again, and this time, Y/n felt a rush of heat flood her chest. She quickly pulled her hand back, her mind spinning. Was this him playing the game—or was this something else entirely?

The next day, after her ankle had been treated and she was still somewhat limping, Carlos found himself walking beside her again during another hike. This time, though, there was an unspoken tension between them that neither could ignore.

Y/n decided to turn the tables. As they walked side by side, she let her hand brush against his lightly, just enough for him to feel the heat of her skin against his. Carlos faltered for a split second, his breath catching, but he quickly recovered, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What was that?” he asked, his voice a little too soft.

Y/n smirked. “Two can play this game, Carlos,” she said with a teasing glint in her eye.

Carlos stopped walking, his mind suddenly racing. “Oh, you’re playing now?”

Y/n turned to face him, her smile playful yet challenging. “I’m not always the professional you think I am, Carlos. I’m just as capable of getting under your skin as you are with me.”

Carlos’s heart hammered in his chest. He took a step closer to her, his voice low and deliberate, as he pulled her closer “Careful, Y/n. You might just find out how much I like it.”

Y/n smirked again, her breath hitching at the proximity. “We’ll see about that, won’t we?”

As the flirtatious tension between them grew, Y/n realized one thing for sure: this wasn’t just about the playful jabs anymore. Something more was starting to brew, that neither of them was ready to admit. It was there, in the lingering glances, the touches, the way their breaths came faster in each other’s presence.

_________________________________________________________

The air had grown colder as the night deepened, the silence of the Alps surrounding the small group gathered around the crackling bonfire. The flames flickered and danced, casting long shadows against the dark, misty forest. Carlos, Y/N, and the remaining trainers—Hugh, Marco, Win and Lucas—sat around the fire, roasting marshmallows and chatting casually. The atmosphere was relaxed, almost serene, and the group had been laughing together for hours. It felt like a brief escape from the hectic pace of the training camp and the pressures of their respective lives.

As the night wore on, though, the other trainers started yawning, the cold weather seeping into their bones. Slowly, one by one, they made their way to their tents, leaving only Carlos and Y/N by the fire. The warmth from the flames didn't quite reach the chill between them, though. They had spent so much time bickering and teasing that the air still carried a strange, undeniable tension.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the log she was sitting on, glancing at Carlos, who was staring into the fire, his jaw tense. 

"You're unusually quiet," Y/N said, breaking the silence, her voice low but teasing.

Carlos chuckled softly. "Just thinking."

"That’s new," she quipped, giving him a sideways glance.

He smirked, shaking his head, but there was a softness in his eyes. "Very funny." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "But seriously... I’ve just been thinking a lot lately. About my career. My life."

Y/N’s teasing demeanor softened as she sensed the shift in his tone. She set the stick aside and gave him her full attention. "What about it?"

“You ever feel like the world moves too fast?” he asked, staring into the flames.

Y/N paused, surprised by the sudden depth in his tone. She sat back down, tilting her head slightly as she looked at him. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I think that’s just life. You?”

Carlos let out a short, humorless laugh, poking the fire with a stick. “All the time. It’s like... I’ve been running for as long as I can remember, and I’m not sure I even know what it feels like to stop anymore.”

Y/N didn’t say anything immediately, sensing he wasn’t done. She watched as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, the firelight dancing in his dark eyes.

“When Ferrari replaced me,” he continued, his voice quieter, “it wasn’t just losing a seat. It was like losing a part of myself. I’d put everything into that team, you know? Suddenly, I wasn’t enough. And then,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion, “everyone doubted me when I joined Williams. Even I doubted myself. Williams wasn’t exactly... the team anyone dreams of driving for, you know? People called it a step down, said I’d disappear into obscurity.” He paused, his gaze fixed on the fire. “I told myself it was a fresh start, that I could prove them all wrong. But some days, I still wonder... what if they were right?”

Y/N felt a pang in her chest. She wasn’t used to seeing him like this—so exposed, so human. Slowly, she shifted closer to him, her voice gentle. “You’re wrong.”

Carlos looked at her, his eyes searching hers. “What?”

“You’re wrong to think they were right,” she said firmly. “You’re doing what so many people are too scared to do—you’re betting on yourself. And that takes guts, Carlos. You’ve already proven them wrong just by showing up, by not giving up.”

He held her gaze, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. “Do you really believe that, or are you just saying it to make me feel better?”

“I believe it,” she said without hesitation. “I’ve been watching you these past few weeks—how hard you work, how much you care. You don’t just show up; you give everything you have. And that… that’s what makes you enough.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything. The only sounds were the crackling fire and the faint rustle of the trees in the wind. Carlos’s eyes softened, and he gave her a small, almost grateful smile.

“You make it sound so simple,” he murmured.

“It’s not simple,” Y/N replied, her voice just as quiet. “But sometimes, you need someone to remind you of what you’re capable of. Even if that someone is a stubborn journalist who can’t seem to get along with you.”

Carlos chuckled, the sound warmer this time. “You? Stubborn? Never.”

Y/N smirked, but her expression softened as she added, “For what it’s worth, Carlos… I think Williams is lucky to have you. And I think, deep down, you know that too.”

"You’re different, Y/N," he said quietly. "You don’t just see things the way they are. You see them for what they could be. I noticed that about you the day you took my first interview, furious but determined."

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "I thought you’d ruin my career that day."

"And I thought you’d ruin my life," he admitted with a small smile. "But here we are."

The warmth in his voice made her chest tighten. She looked down, her cheeks flushing from more than just the fire. "Life’s funny like that, I guess."

The fire crackled between them, the silence stretching out but feeling oddly comfortable. They were closer now, physically and emotionally, the walls they had built between themselves slowly crumbling.

Carlos reached out, almost hesitantly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. The gesture was so uncharacteristic of him that Y/N froze for a moment, her breath hitching.

“You’ve got ash on your cheek,” he said quietly, though his hand lingered a second longer than it needed to.

Y/N’s heart raced, but she forced herself to play it cool. “Thanks,” she muttered, looking away to hide the warmth rising in her cheeks.

They didn’t move away from each other, though. The space between them seemed to shrink, the air charged with an unspoken tension. Neither of them said anything, but their eyes met again, and this time, neither looked away.

And then, without thinking, Carlos turned to her, his hand brushing against hers again. This time, neither of them pulled away. His fingers interlaced with hers, his touch warm and familiar.

Y/N didn’t know what was happening—didn’t know if she was ready for it—but for the first time in a long while, she felt something she hadn’t felt before: the desire to not run away. To just stay.

Their faces were inches apart now, the air around them thick with unspoken words. Slowly, cautiously, Carlos leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. And before she could think, before she could stop herself, their lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss.

It wasn’t like the heated moments they’d shared before—there was no playful challenge, no teasing. This was something else entirely. It was quiet, soft, and real. And in that moment, Y/N didn’t need any answers. She just needed to be with him.

When they finally pulled away, the night felt different. The fire was still crackling, the stars still shining overhead, but the air was charged with something new. Something neither of them knew how to define.

_____________________________

At breakfast, the trainers were buzzing with energy, teasing and laughing as usual. Y/N and Carlos, however, were unusually quiet. They avoided eye contact, their movements careful, as if they were afraid of giving something away.

Lucas, one of the trainers, noticed immediately. “Why do you two look like you didn’t sleep?” he asked, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Or did something else keep you up?”

Y/N nearly choked on her coffee, while Carlos shot him a warning look. “We were at the campfire,” Carlos said casually, though his tone was a little too smooth. “Talking. That’s it.”

“Talking, huh?” Marco chimed in, wiggling his eyebrows. “Sure didn’t sound like just talking.”

Carlos smirked, though his ears were a little pink. “Let it go, Marco.”

But the teasing didn’t stop, and as the trainers continued to poke fun, Y/N and Carlos exchanged a glance. For a brief moment, there was a spark of shared amusement between them, a silent understanding that, whatever had happened last night, it was theirs to keep—for now.

__________________________________________________

As the final week of the training camp rolled on, the air between Carlos and Y/N was undeniably charged. Their playful arguments had taken on a new dimension, laced with subtle touches, flirtatious comments, and lingering glances that neither could seem to resist. It was a game, one where both of them were getting dangerously good at playing.

The days were filled with their usual banter. Carlos would steal glances at Y/N whenever she wasn’t looking, and she would catch him in the act, only to roll her eyes and return a sharp, teasing comment. Their exchanges became more and more subtle, their flirtation laced with jokes, sharp retorts, and a charged undercurrent that made Y/N’s heart race every time he got close.

One morning, as they were preparing to head out for a hike, Carlos tossed her a quick grin before saying, "You know, Y/N, you’d look even better in a racing suit."

Y/N narrowed her eyes, clearly catching his double meaning. "Oh, really? Because I can’t imagine anything more appealing than that," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. But the way her pulse quickened as she said it was hard to ignore.

Carlos chuckled, leaning in just a little closer as he gave her a wink. "I’m sure you could keep up with the pace. You’ve got more endurance than you let on."

The comment hit her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She wasn’t sure if he was complimenting her stamina or challenging her, but either way, the heat rising in her cheeks was undeniable.

"Don’t flatter yourself, Sainz," Y/N replied, a grin tugging at her lips. "Just because I don’t race doesn’t mean I don’t know how to stay ahead."

Carlos raised an eyebrow, as if daring her to prove it, but before he could say anything more, Hugh came over, interrupting with a loud whistle. "Alright, lovebirds, can we please stop flirting long enough to hike up this mountain?"

Carlos shot Hugh a playful glare but didn’t say anything, his eyes still fixed on Y/N as if he were daring her to make the first move. She smirked back at him, her heart still beating too fast for her liking. What was happening between them?

That afternoon, as they made their way up the steep mountain trail, the teasing escalated further. The group was spread out a bit, but Y/N and Carlos kept bumping into each other as they navigated the rocky path. Every time Y/N slipped slightly, Carlos would reach out, his hand grazing hers as he steadied her. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched her—far from it—but this time, it felt different. Every time their hands brushed, it was electric.

She tried to ignore it, focusing on the trail ahead, but it wasn’t easy with him so close, his presence more magnetic than ever. Eventually, they found a quiet spot along the trail to rest, the others trailing behind. Carlos sat down on a rock and patted the space next to him.

Y/N hesitated but sat beside him, her heart racing even more now that they were alone. The wind rustled through the trees, but the air between them was thick with unspoken words.

"Do you ever just... want to be free?" Carlos asked, breaking the silence, his voice softer than usual.

Y/N turned to him, curious despite herself. "What do you mean?"

Carlos shrugged, his gaze distant. "I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I’m constantly on a leash, you know? Whether it’s the media, the races, the expectations—it’s like I can’t breathe sometimes. Like everyone’s watching, waiting for me to fall."

Y/N studied him, sensing that this was more than just small talk. She had seen the exhaustion in his eyes before, but it felt like he was finally opening up. "I get that," she said quietly. "There’s always someone who wants something from you. A story, an interview, an opinion. It’s hard to know where to draw the line. But sometimes, you have to find a way to make peace with it, even if it’s just for a little while."

Carlos turned to her, his eyes intense. "You’re not like the others, Y/N. You don’t ask for anything from me. You just... let me be." He paused, and his tone became a bit more playful, though there was still a trace of seriousness in it. "And for that, I think you’re the most dangerous person I’ve ever met."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? I’m dangerous now?"

"Definitely," Carlos replied, his grin returning, his voice lower, almost like a challenge. "You make me think too much. And that’s not something I’m used to."

Y/N felt her heart stutter in her chest. There was a hint of sincerity behind his words, and the playful teasing was suddenly less playful and more... real.

"Well," she said, trying to keep her composure, "I don’t need to make you think, Carlos. You’re doing a pretty good job of that yourself."

He leaned in closer, just enough to make her breath catch. "Then what are we doing here, Y/N?"

Her heart skipped a beat, her words caught in her throat. They were so close now, and she could feel the heat radiating off him. It was as if the entire world had narrowed down to just the two of them, standing in this moment, caught in the space between what they had been and what they could be.

Before she could respond, a voice from behind broke the spell.

"Oi, you two!" Lucas’s voice echoed up the trail. "Stop making moon eyes at each other and get a move on, yeah? Some of us still want to make it to the top before the sun sets."

Carlos pulled back just slightly, but his eyes stayed locked on Y/N's. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke.

"Guess we’ll have to finish this later," he said, his voice low and teasing, but there was something more in it now. Something she wasn’t ready to face but couldn’t ignore.

Y/N simply nodded, her pulse still racing as they both stood up and rejoined the group, the weight of their unspoken words lingering in the air. The hike continued, but neither of them seemed to be fully present anymore. Their minds were occupied with a question neither was brave enough to answer just yet.

But as they reached the peak, both Carlos and Y/N couldn’t help but notice that things had shifted between them. There was no going back now. Something had ignited in the quiet spaces between their playful arguments, something that neither of them could deny.

The teasing wasn’t just playful anymore. It was a game they were both caught up in—one that neither was ready to lose.

__________________________________________

The last evening at the training camp was marked by a celebratory bonfire dinner. The trainers had gone all out, grilling food over the fire, with marshmallows and warm drinks to go around. The air was filled with laughter and the crackling of the flames, the camaraderie built over the weeks evident in every joke and shared story.

Y/N sat cross-legged on a log, her camera slung around her neck as always, though tonight she wasn’t working. For once, she was just enjoying the moment, soaking in the warmth of the fire and the company of the people she’d spent the past few weeks with.

“So, Y/N,” Hugh began, leaning back on his seat with a grin. “How’s the camp been for you? Documenting His Royal Highness over there.” He nodded toward Carlos, who smirked.

"It’s been... educational," Y/N replied, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I’ve learned that someone can actually talk about themselves all day long without running out of things to say."

The group burst into laughter, and Carlos raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey! I’m a fascinating person, what can I say?"

"Fascinating, sure," Y/N shot back. "If you consider constant bickering a personality trait."

Win chuckled, throwing a marshmallow into the fire. "Come on, Y/N. You’ve got to admit it’s been fun. You and Carlos arguing is like the soundtrack of this camp."

"Fun isn’t the word I’d use," Y/N said, but there was a smile on her face. "Though I will say, you guys made the experience bearable. Well, most of you." She gave Carlos a pointed look, earning another round of laughter.

"So, will you miss us?" Marco asked, leaning forward. "Or is this just a 'thank God it’s over' kind of thing?"

Y/N paused, looking around at the group. Despite all the chaos, she realized she actually would miss them—the inside jokes, the late-night banter, even the ridiculous arguments with Carlos. She smiled softly. "I’ll miss parts of it," she admitted. "Not the cold mornings or the uphill hikes, but... yeah, I’ll miss the people. You all made it memorable."

"“To surviving the camp,” Win said with a grin. “And to Y/n, for putting up with us—and Carlos.”

Y/n laughed, clinking her glass with the others. “Surviving Carlos should earn me a medal.”

Carlos leaned forward, his eyes twinkling. “Admit it, Y/n. You’d be bored without me.”

“Bored?” she echoed, raising an eyebrow. “If by bored you mean ‘less stressed,’ then absolutely.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Carlos shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

As the campfire began to die down and people started retreating to their Cabins, Y/n found herself sitting outside, staring at the stars. The quiet of the night was soothing, and she let herself relax for the first time in what felt like ages.

She wasn’t alone for long. Carlos appeared, his footsteps soft against the gravel. He sat down beside her without a word, the two of them sharing the silence.

“You’ll miss it,” he said after a while, his voice low.

She glanced at him. “The camp?”

He nodded. “The chaos. The people. The... arguments.”

Y/n smiled, shaking her head. “Maybe. But I’m not admitting anything.”

Carlos chuckled, and for a moment, they simply sat there, side by side, under the vast expanse of stars.

As they finally stood and made their way back to their Cabins, Carlos gave her a soft smile. "Goodnight, Y/N."

She returned the smile, her heart skipping a beat. "Goodnight, Carlos."

And as she crawled into her Bed, Y/N couldn’t help but think that this was the first time in a long while she didn’t want something to end.

_____________________________

Please let me know if you're liking the story so far or not. need motivation to continue.

Thankyou

[kayleighwinchester]

Everything I Wanted for Christmas

Well, y'all, after an insane peak season at Amazon, fighting the awful writer's block dragon, and lots of Christmas music on Spotify, we made it! @fangirlingfromdownunder, you were my SPNFanficPond Secret Santa recipient! I accidentally deviated a bit from the info you gave; the brain worms started doing their thing, and here we are! I hope you like it nonetheless - I absolutely adored writing it! Merry Christmas!

Seeing Dean settle into something close to ‘normalcy’ was a fascinating thing to watch - especially as the holidays drew nearer. 

The eldest Winchester had, you knew, never known much of a life outside of cheap extended-stay motels and the backseat of the Impala; Christmas had consisted, at best, of stolen decorations and gas-station presents, if those weren’t outright stolen too. Now, with the bunker, you’d had a front row seat to watch him, in an endearing turn of events, essentially begin nesting. He scolded Sam if the kitchen was left messy, got on your case about towels left on the bathroom floor, and became viciously protective of his own – and later, your shared – space within the Men of Letters’ underground sanctuary.

With that in mind, you were more than a little curious to see how the holidays would go over - how Dean would take to the festivities he’d never fully had a chance to indulge in.

This… Wasn’t exactly what you had expected. Not by a long shot.

Dean had ushered you out the door that morning with a handwritten list, one you were sure, now, was just an excuse to get you out of the bunker for a few hours. It included everything from vanilla extract to hooks for outdoor Christmas lights (where the hell was he planning on hanging outdoor lights?) – from tinsel to cookie cutters. Your suspicion was only furthered by the fact that you were quite sure that at least half of what you were reading on his chicken-scratch list was already in the many cabinets and closets of the bunker, or, at least, could have waited - this list easily could have been spread out over more than one beer run, rather than Dean all but shoving you out the door.

Still, you complied - though not without a fair bit of grumbling when the eldest Winchester didn’t respond to your ‘I’m back’ text, leaving you to haul the first load of bags through the front door yourself.

What you saw in exchange, however, was most certainly worth it.

Dean was all but fighting for his life, grappling with a tree that was, admittedly, a bit too large for the space it was in, if anyone had bothered to ask your opinion. It only took you a moment or two to realize that it was, in fact, a real tree, and Dean did, in fact, have help (that realization was helped along by Dean’s sudden, panicked, “dammit, Sam –” as the tree swayed precariously, threatening to drop toward his side). It took another moment or two to process that they had somehow gotten said real tree into the bunker - you glanced down, finding that you were crushing a light carpet of needles underfoot. 

“Come on, man, this shouldn’t be this hard,” Sam sighed out, sounding utterly exasperated with his older brother as you watched him try to get a better grip on the utterly massive tree. 

Dean bristled slightly. “‘Shouldn’t be this hard’,” He mimicked the words back, adding a grumbled, “shut up” onto the end. “Just need to get this thing up before she gets back -...”

You decided to spare Dean’s dignity for as long as humanly possible, quietly sneaking out to get the next few loads of grocery bags - all plastered in colorful logos from Walmart, Menards, the local mini-mart, and even one or two from Dollar Tree. By the time you were done, you were relieved to find the tree finally standing, the branches still settling, and Dean huffing and puffing, taking a long drink from a beer sitting on the war room table. 

“Looks good,” You called down, leaning against the banister.

The eldest Winchester went utterly still.

Clearly, this wasn’t all he’d hoped to accomplish with his few hours of near-solitude, because he let out a quiet, “Son of a bitch,” under his breath, scrubbing his free hand over his face, before adding a louder, gentler, “Thanks, Sweetheart,” though his tone still held a bit of exasperation. He looked up toward the door, pausing as he saw the veritable mountain of shopping bags around you, and quietly, sheepishly asked, “...Uh, how long you been standin’ there, Sweetheart?”

“A while,” You said simply, holding up the last of your shopping haul - a case of beer. He grimaced, scrubbing his hand over his face once more, motioning a bit helplessly to the tree. 

“Surprise,” He offered halfheartedly. “I was gonna -...” Another half-hearted motion toward the offending evergreen. “Ran outta time, I guess.” His shoulders slumped just slightly, and he took another drink of his beer.

“Decorate it?” You guessed, and he nodded. “De, we can do that together. I figured we would. That’s kind’a the whole point.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I just -...” He grumbles softly. “Wanted to surprise you.” 

“I’m not gonna lie,” You crossed your arms on the banister, leaning forward, eyeing the tree. “That’s a pretty damn big surprise, Baby. How the hell did you get that thing in here?” And for the first time, you noticed that the tree was suspiciously close to the nearest wall, and… 

You couldn't help but bark out a laugh. “...Did you cut it in half?”

“No!” Dean barked out immediately. 

Sam, emerging from the kitchen, helpfully supplied, “He just cut half the branches off,” though he sounded utterly exasperated. Dean shot him a withering look that really did define the phrase ‘if looks could kill’. 

“‘S not half.” Dean grumbled. “Just… Took some off the back. Wouldn’t fit through the door otherwise. ‘Sides,” He shot Sam a pointed look, “aren’t you supposed to be meeting up with Eileen? Y’know, somewhere that’s not here?” 

Sam raised his hands in surrender. “You’re the one that needed help with the tree.” He pointed out. 

“Yeah, well. Tree’s up.” Dean returned, using both hands – one still holding his beer – to shoo Sam toward the door. Sam rolled his eyes, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, before he disappeared down the hall. Dean’s own eyes returned to you, and, more importantly, the bags piled around your feet. “Could’a called me to help with those, y’know.” He pointed out as he took the stairs two at a time to begin helping you carry them the rest of the way into the bunker.

“I tried,” You commented dryly, holding up your phone and waving it once. He cast a glance down to his own phone, sitting on the table, and then back to you a bit guiltily. 

“Didn't hear it,” He said, looking just a bit like a scolded puppy. “I would’a helped.” He began to pick up bags – clearly attempting to make up for his misstep by taking as many as he physically could in one go. You couldn't fight back a smile that curled onto your lips at that, watching him take the stairs back down – again, two at a time.

The two of you made quick work of putting away the few actual grocery items – the beer, the baking ingredients that you had been entirely correct in assuming you already had around the bunker, and a few other things, setting the rest of the bags on the table.

Sam left for his evening with Eileen just as Dean was starting on the hot chocolate. The two of you had changed into pajamas – some adorable matching ones that, surprisingly enough, Dean himself had surprised you with – plaid pajama pants, lined with some soft, fuzzy material, and shirts with piles of gifts printed on the front, his reading I got everything I wanted for Christmas and yours reading It’s me, I’m everything – and matching slippers. 

As Dean worked on the drinks, you got started on music – you'd been delighted to find another cache of records in a tucked away closet, all vintage Christmas. Your favorite discovery in the bunker thus far had been a beautiful record player, still in perfect condition, and an ever-growing collection of records to go along with it. You had just gotten one by Gene Autry going, one by Dean Martin sitting ready for when it ended, when Dean came out of the kitchen, proudly presenting two mugs of hot chocolate, complete with marshmallows that just barely fit into the mugs.

“Alright,” He grinned, that wide, boyish grin, his eyes sparkling, as he set the mugs down, rubbing his hands together. “So, we got the hot chocolate – and eggnog for later,” Admittedly, you were a bit surprised that he had the restraint to keep alcohol for a time that wasn’t right freakin’ now. “So, uh, what’s first?” Oh, there was that look on his face – that expectant but uncertain look, like he didn’t quite know what to do with himself. That much, you knew, was accurate. 

“Lights,” You said matter-of-factly, a grin curling onto your own lips. “Which is probably gonna be the most annoying part.”

You could see the smile start to falter on his lips, his eyes wandering to the bags on the table. “Annoying?” He wondered. “They’re just lights, Sweetheart. ‘S gonna be fine. ‘Sides, they’re brand new. Not like they’re gonna be all tangled up.” He moved to open the first box of lights, missing the way you shook your head.

“Give them five minutes.” You warned him. "They'll be a mess."

You could hear his grin as he began opening box after box of lights – clearly, at least some thought and Googling had gone into his list, because he’d been very specific about how many boxes he thought he’d need. “Watch ‘n learn, Sweetheart, watch ‘n learn.”

So, watch ‘n learn you did. 

Settling yourself on the edge of the table, mug in both hands, you watched him start on the lights – and learned, very quickly, that he had no real idea exactly how infuriating the strands of lights could really be. His face was twisted up in concentration and frustration as the lights twinkled cheerfully, spots of pale gold dancing off of his skin. The entire affair was punctuated with several muttered ‘son of a bitch’es, one ‘oh no you don’t’ as the tree began to lean to one side, and finally, finally, four songs into the record, an exasperated, “A’ight, Sweetheart, you win. Wanna come lend me a hand?” 

You grinned, hopping down off of the table, setting your mug aside and moving to his side, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll do you one better,” You teased. “Go drink your hot chocolate, and – what’d you say again, Baby? Watch ‘n learn?” 

He rolled his eyes skyward, but obediently took a step back, and then another, moving back toward the table, taking a seat and picking up his own mug in one hand, picking through the bags with the other. “We still gotta wrap presents, too.” He pointed out absently. “Wanna give Sammy somethin’ that isn’t wrapped in plastic bags this time. You got wrapping paper, right?” 

“Big paper bag on the floor,” You directed, examining the tree briefly. You were fairly sure Dean had to have watched a few online tutorials – your own experience with lights was something along the lines of wing it and hope they stay, whereas he had actually seemed to have an order he was doing things in. He was somewhere around halfway done with wrapping the lights around the inside of the tree, cords flush against the trunk, so you followed his lead. 

You could hear him rustling through the bag behind you, and hear his snort of amusement. “Y’got Scooby Doo wrapping paper?” There was no way to mistake the sound of the smile in his voice. 

“Figured I could either wrap yours in it, or you could wrap the ones you’re giving out in it,” You informed him, your own smile returning. “But I wanted to give you first dibs.” You’d reached the bottom of the tree, and, carefully winding the lights on a lower branch to keep them from slipping, started your way back up.

“Oh, I’m so usin’ it.” He said seriously. You could hear him continue to paw through the bags. “...Sweetheart. Darlin’.” He said slowly after a few moments. “How many different kinds’a ornaments do we need? Don’t think these are all gonna fit.” 

You draped the lights over a branch, giving them a warning stare, as if you could intimidate them into remaining in place and not tangling further, turning around to face him. He’d taken out every plastic container of cheap Walmart ornaments, and had spread them out across the table. He was examining them like they might bite him. 

“Well,” You drawled, “by the time I hit Walmart, I figured that list of yours was a wild goose chase to keep me out of the bunker for a while –” Catching your expression, he opened his mouth to protest, and you shook your head, grinning. “Don’t even. You know the kitchen like the back of your hand, Dean – you and I both know we didn’t need more vanilla.” He closed his mouth, grinning guiltily. “So I figured I’d stay out a little longer, and, uh – I kind’a went a little overboard.” Your own smile had gone a bit sheepish. 

You could see his mind working, the gears turning, as he examined the spread of ornaments, before he blurted out, “Thank god for Charlie. How the hell do people afford this crap?” You couldn’t help the loud laugh that escaped at that. “No, seriously!” Dean continued, as if worried you weren’t taking his concern with the seriousness it deserved – no, demanded. “Every year we drive past houses that are all done up with this stuff, inside and out! Entire neighborhoods! And one of these boxes,” He held up one of the containers, a plastic cylinder full of red baubles, some matte, some glittery, some metallic, “is, what,” He glanced at the sticker, “ten bucks? How many’re we gonna need for the tree? Jesus. And these are from Walmart!” 

At some point, you’d begun laughing in earnest, and even he couldn’t keep up his faux outrage for long, his own lips breaking into that beautiful smile of his again, his eyes sparkling in the light of the half-strung Christmas tree. He reached forward, pulling you across the last two steps that separated you, onto his lap, his lips pressing to yours. 

The record had finished and the room had gone quiet by the time you finally disentangled yourself from his lap. “Go put on the next record, De. Gotta get the lights up or we’re never gonna finish.” He huffed with a childish pout, but stood, landing a playful smack to your ass as he passed.

As Dean Martin’s voice filled the room, you stood on your toes, finishing the lights as far as you could reach – Dean stepped in for the last few rounds, carefully tucking in the end of the strand. The two of you stepped back, with you checking for any gaps in the lights and admiring your work, and Dean admiring you. 

Hanging the ornaments took significantly less time, though by the end of it, you were both covered in cheap green, silver, and gold glitter. Dean had broken out the eggnog and a tin of Christmas cookies Donna and Jody had sent over, and, as you put on a third record, this one Nat King Cole, the two of you settled cross-legged on the floor in front of the tree (with Dean dramatically complaining under his breath about his knees), the majority of the presents the two of you had purchased spread out between you. 

You’d worked in relative silence for a time, before Dean spoke up, his voice slightly tense as he struggled with the wrapping paper and tape, struggling to make something vaguely aesthetically pleasing out of Sam's present, but his words were genuine nonetheless. “Thanks. This was… Nice.” 

You glanced up, reaching for a bow to press into place on top of Claire’s gift. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He reached over, taking a long drink of his eggnog, staring down the present in front of him like one might some sort of crafty foe. “I never really got to do this before, y’know? ‘S…” He struggled for a better word for a moment, before finally repeating, “Nice.” He reached for a cookie next, taking a bite – you knew him well enough to know it was his way of deflecting from the emotions he’d just expressed.

“You’re welcome, Baby.” You leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his nose – his face wrinkled up, and he took a moment to process that, before he pulled you forward, sending presents sliding across the tile and wrapping paper rolling in every direction, his lips finding yours once more.

Everything he wanted for Christmas, indeed.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 6)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (6)

Masterlist (other parts here)

Jordan and YFN were comfortably spread out on the couch, an array of snacks laid out on the blanket they were sharing. YFN hadn’t told Jordan about her interaction with Lucy yet, and she was a little worried about doing so. The last thing she wanted was for Jordan to feel like she was less important. She still had no idea what was happening, and the fact that she was just on a spontaneous holiday sat in the back of her mind, but she kept it back there. She didn’t have a job or worries, she knew that she might meet people along the way who would be meaningful in her life. She was already so close to Jordan that she couldn’t imagine being back across the other side of the world from her, let alone whatever she had with Lucy. Was Lucy just looking for a quick fuck because she knew YFN was only here for 2 weeks? She ignored that thought, knowing that whatever was happening between them was far more than just a casual fling. But was it even possible to have more? And did they both want that?

She internally groaned. She hated overthinking things, it just wasn’t her. She was much more care-free than that. She happily pushed all of those thoughts aside and reminded herself of her motto. Whatever happens, happens. As long as she maintained respect for herself and those involved, she would happily be involved in whatever this was with Lucy.

Jordan nudged her foot as she texted. “Luce said the dinner party’s done and she has some gossip. Would you mind if she comes over?”

Yes, please. “Not at all.”

“Excellent. She’ll be here in 5.”

The restaurant was much further away than that, so she knew Lucy must have already been on her way. Oh, she was excited.

Five minutes later, Lucy knocked and entered without permission. Jordan didn’t seem phased, this must have been a common thing with them. Lucy found them in the living room looking quite comfortable on the couch.

“How’s the food poisoning?”

“I think all of these snacks have made it worse, to be honest.” YFN laughed.

Lucy’s eyes widened at the amount of snacks covering the two. Jordan saw this and defended them. “Don’t judge us, we’re feeling our emotions.”

Lucy laughed and gave a little leap over the couch to sit on YFN’s free side. She kicked her shoes off and YFN lifted the blanket they shared, pulling it to cover Lucy’s legs also. Lucy loved the thoughtfulness and stretched her legs out. Jordan threw a few different snacks over to Lucy.

“Are these sad or happy emotions?” Lucy asked.

“A bit of both,” YFN shrugged. “Subject to change with your gossip.”

“Ah,” Lucy didn’t have much gossip. She really just wanted an excuse to be around her. “Well.. when you left Leah asked me a few questions. She wanted to know who YFN was and where you were from, whether you two were in a relationship-” her finger gestured to the two of them.

“-wait,” Jordan cut her off. “She was jealous?”

“Mmn.. maybe a little to be honest. And protective.”

Jordan scoffed. “She has no right!”

“Oh I know, but feelings don’t just disappear that quickly…” Her extended foot touched YFN’s under the blanket which caused her body to flinch but Lucy noticed she didn’t move away. Jordan didn’t notice. “She still cares for you, Jords. You know that. She was upset, she just wants to talk to you. From our conversation she seems to miss your friendship.”

Jordan was quiet.

“You know you miss her friendship also,” YFN said softly as she leant over to squeeze Jordan’s hand.

“Argh yeah, you’re right, I do… but YFN and I have been talking a lot and I think I just need my space. I can’t give her what she wants right now.”

Lucy nodded. “Maybe you should tell her that..”

“Well I planned to tonight but I just couldn’t. She took me by surprise when she came over and I wasn’t ready.”

“Maybe… maybe it would be easier to text? Face to face is better but I think she’ll understand a text, Dory.”

Jordan sighed and nodded. “I’ve been thinking the same to be fair. Can you help me?”

“You mean can I do it all and you proof-read?” YFN chuckled. “Anything for you.”

Jordan gave an exaggeratingly toothy grin and tossed her phone over with a loud air smooch. YFN wrote out a message she thought would be sufficient. Lucy watched her little face concentrating as she quickly wrote.

Leah: Hey, I really appreciate you trying to have a chat with me tonight, and I’m sorry I wasn’t really responsive. I’m not going to throw all of my baggage onto you, but you need to know the basics. The truth is that I really haven’t been doing well after losing you and then deciding I had to leave Arsenal. Being left off the England Squad was the nail in the coffin for me. I played tough but it hit me harder than I realised, harder than anything has, really. I will always love you, you’re an incredible human being and an even better friend. I did hear what you were saying tonight and appreciate that you want us to be friends, but I just can’t give that to you right now. I don’t have the capacity. I’m working on myself and will continue to do so. I hope when I’m a bit more healed and feeling like myself that you’ll still want to be friends and we can go back to that. I miss our friendship.

I’m sorry I couldn’t say all of this to you tonight, I’ll admit I chickened out.

Take care of yourself Leah x

YFN read out the message to them both. God, she was good with words, Lucy thought.

Jordan also seemed impressed. “Can you add ‘I’m really lucky to have some good friends around me’ please? She’ll worry otherwise. Well, she’ll worry regardless but it’ll make her feel better.”

YFN nodded and added it in. She gave the phone back to Jordan who sent the message, then took a deep breath and threw her phone to the other end of the couch.

“I’m really proud of you, Jords,” Lucy stated softly. The emotion in her voice was evident. YFN didn’t like seeing Lucy upset and she brushed the back of her hand up against Lucy’s under the blanket. They both twitched at the contact and then hesitantly hooked pinkie’s together. They both smiled and relaxed.

“Thanks Luce,” Jordan said, tired. “I feel so much better already.”

The trio sat silently and continued watching their movie. With the stress of that burden now eased off her, Jordan fell asleep in minutes, her little body curled up in the corner of the couch, her mouth slightly open. The other two were very aware that their feet and pinkie’s were still touching.

“Can we talk?” Lucy whispered to avoid waking Jordan. Her head was leaning back on the couch and she was staring at YFN like she had been for the past few minutes. YFN had been too involved in the movie to notice. She broke her eyes away and found Lucy’s face. Lucy’s face was welcome sight and she had a very vulnerable look in her eyes.

“Sure… this is my favourite movie. Do you like it?” She whispered, cheekily avoiding a deeper conversation.

“The Taming of the Shrew?”

YFN’s eyes lit up. “Most people don't know that it’s loosely based off Shakespeare. I’m impressed. You must be a hopeless millennial romantic like me.”

Lucy just grinned, watching her get so excited about a movie.

“Plus, how attractive is Heath Ledger in this, hm?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow in question at her attraction to a man.

YFN grinned back cheekily. “Hey, I can admire a pretty person. Plus he’s from Perth in Western Australia, just like me.”

Lucy reached out with her free hand and touched the little dimple on her cheek gently. It was the complete opposite of the aggressive Lucy she’d seen on the pitch.

“I love this.”

YFN’s breathing started getting ragged and she had to blink and suck in a deep breath. Lucy grinned at the impact she had on her. YFN gestured to her grin. “And I love that.”

They spoke at the exact same time then.

“I want to get to know you be-”

“We acted on lust.”

Lucy was surprised but she nodded. “Yes, we did. Can you blame us?”

“No.. not really. I think it was more my fault than yours.”

“Ohhhh no. No, you’re not taking any blame for that. You can give that blame to me, or we can share it. I was flirting with you all night.”

“I know..” she whispered. “I liked it.”

Lucy took a risk and moved her hand to entangle their fingers completely. YFN covered the back of Lucy’s hand with her second one and pulled it onto her lap. Lucy sucked in a breath. She wanted to feel her, taste her, make her moan and cry and call her name. She pushed the thought aside and cleared her throat.

“I’m only here for another week and a half.”

“Jords said you were a writer? You can write, and travel. You can write, and stay. We can explore… this. I know it’s selfish of me to even ask but I have contracts in England and Spain.”

“I’ve never been to Spain.”

“You’ll love it, and you’ll love Narla.”

“Narla?”

“My little fur baby. She’s a Westie.” Lucy looked like a proud mum.

Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I want to meet her.”

“Spain is great,” she continued. “Tapas, good food, relaxed vibe, we’re down at the beach most mornings or evening watching the sunrise or sunset.”

“I miss good beaches.” She stroked the back of Lucy’s hand with her thumb.

“Well, they’re not ‘Australia good’ but they they’re pretty decent.”

“To be honest Lucy, I have no idea what I’m going to do. Dory and I get along so well, and I know she has other friends, but I feel like she’s leaning on me a bit at the moment and needs me. So I can’t see myself leaving soon anyways.. I want to just stay and be there for her, you know? Plus Birmingham sounds interesting.”

Lucy nodded slowly, thinking. “Well that’s much closer than you going back to Australia. There’s an airline that does direct from Birmingham to Barcelona and it’s quite cheap also.”

“You’ve been thinking about this a bit..”

Lucy gave a sheepish shrug. “Hopeless millennial romantic, remember?”

They smiled and played with each other’s hands, leaning towards each other.

“We have no idea what this is..” YFN sounded unsure.

Lucy wanted to reassure her and so she opened herself up. “You’re right, we have no idea what this is. All I know is that I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve been thinking about you, and even dreaming about you since we first met. And I’m so thankful that you and Jordan are friends so that I get to see you. I want us to explore this.. whatever it is. I want to see where this goes, because I haven’t felt this in a long time – no… scratch that - I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before, and I want so much more.” YFN was staring at her with a vulnerable, empathetic expression, her lips partially parted. Lucy continued. “I want so much more now, I wanted so much more when I met you, and I definitely wanted so much more in that bathroom.”

YFN’s pupils dilated and she could feel herself getting excited. She squirmed in her seat and felt her cheeks redden. Lucy noticed this and felt YFN’s hands press hers down further, closer to her core as she stroked her hand a bit more nervously. She assumed that YFN didn’t know she had done this as she could see her thinking hard.

Lucy leant over to her and tucked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear. “Tell me what you’re thinking..”

YFN sighed. “You’ve been really honest with me, and so I’ll be really honest with you. I don’t think I’ve ever been this attracted to someone in my life so I’m struggling to even think at the moment.” Lucy chuckled and felt proud of herself. “My main concern is that I don’t want Dory to be hurt or put out.”

Lucy squeezed her hand in reassurance. “She’s one of my best mates. I’ll have a chat to her in the morning, okay?”

“A gentle chat, please.” She pleaded with her blue eyes. “If she’s at all put off or uncomfortable-”

“-then I’ll let you know and we’ll go from there.” Lucy finished. “So.. let’s have a date then, shall we? Tomorrow night?”

“I’m not sure if I can spend a night with you without lust taking over.”

“What’s the problem with that? We can save the drive and have a date at my house instead. I’ll cook.” Lucy knew it was cheeky but worth a try.

Lucy watched YFN roll her eyes but genuinely stop to think about it. She squirmed again and Lucy loved it.

“What time..?”

[clarkeyhill]

Consequences | Arthur Hill

Arthur and I had been together for a year. We had that kind of relationship that felt easy—built on laughter, trust, and shared traditions. One of Arthur’s quirks was his love for “splitting the G,” a Guinness drinking game where you try to drink the pint down to the middle of the golden “G” in the Guinness logo. It was silly, but it was his thing, and I adored him for it.

When he told me he was going on a boys’ holiday with George and Chris, I didn’t think twice. He updated me every day like clockwork—photos of beaches, beers, and their latest adventures. It felt like he was keeping me close, even from miles away.

Until the last night.

That night, the updates stopped. I told myself it was fine—maybe they’d just gotten carried away with their final hurrah. But then I saw the Instagram post.

A girl I didn’t know had tagged him in a photo. The two of them were standing close, her arm slung over his shoulder, grinning at the camera. The caption read:

“Met this guy and he taught me how he splits the G, many ways than one.”

The words hit me like a slap. I knew what “splitting the G” meant to Arthur, but what was the “other G” she was talking about? My stomach churned as I scrolled through the comments. People were laughing, teasing her, and dropping winking emojis. Arthur hadn’t liked or commented on the photo, but that did nothing to stop the flood of doubt and betrayal coursing through me.

I waited for him to text, to call, to explain. But there was only silence.

Arthur returned home two days later, dragging his suitcase into the hallway with a weariness I hadn’t seen before.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low.

“Hi.” I tried to sound normal, but my heart was already racing.

He was distant, avoiding my gaze, and his usual warmth felt replaced by something colder. I asked him about the trip, but his answers were short and guarded.

“It was fine.”

“Yeah, we had fun.”

“Nothing crazy happened.”

It didn’t feel right. He was hiding something, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Arthur,” I said finally, “I saw the photo.”

His entire body stiffened. “What photo?”

“You know what photo. The one with that girl. She said you taught her how to ‘split the G, many ways than one.’ What does that mean?”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his face pale. Then he sank onto the edge of the couch, running his hands through his hair.

“I messed up,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?” My voice cracked.

“I was drunk,” he began, his words spilling out in a rush. “We were playing drinking games at the bar, and she joined in. We were laughing, talking, and then… she kissed me. I didn’t stop her. I should have, but I didn’t. It didn’t go further than that, I swear, but I know I messed up.”

My heart sank. The image of them together, the way he looked at her in that photo, it all felt like a dagger to my chest.

“She kissed you? Just like that?” I demanded, my voice rising.

“I was drunk, and I let it happen,” he admitted. “But it didn’t mean anything. It was a mistake. Please, believe me.”

I stared at him, my mind racing. The man I trusted, the man I loved, had let this happen. How could I ever look at him the same way again?

I slept in the spare bedroom that night. I couldn't bear to sleep or even look at Arthur.

The next morning, I packed my things. Arthur hovered around me, desperate and pleading, but I couldn’t stay.

“I love you,” he said, his voice breaking. “Please don’t go. It was one mistake.”

“One mistake is all it takes,” I said, tears streaming down my face.

And then I walked out.

For weeks, Arthur tried everything to win me back. He sent flowers, texts, and letters filled with apologies.

“I know I hurt you,” one message read. “But please don’t let this destroy us. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Another said, “I’m not giving up on us. You mean too much to me.”

Each gift, each message, felt like salt in the wound. I didn’t respond. I needed space, time to figure out what I wanted.

Then, one day, a small package arrived. Inside was a single notebook. On the first page, Arthur had written:

“Our Story: The Reasons I Fell in Love With You.”

Every page was filled with memories. The way we met, the time I surprised him with his favorite concert tickets, the night we stayed up talking until sunrise. He’d written about the way I laugh, the way I scrunch my nose when I’m annoyed, and how I always leave notes in his lunchbox.

At the end, he wrote:

“I know I broke your trust, and I might not deserve another chance. But I want to spend the rest of my life making this up to you, proving that I’m the man you fell in love with. Please, let me try."

I closed the notebook, my hands trembling.

For the first time in weeks, I let myself imagine a future where we could work through this. Where we could rebuild.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready to forgive him. But for the first time, I thought… maybe I could try.

-

🫶🏻

[pandora-mybeloved]

marylily microfic!! (756 words)

I’m Not Wearing My Usual Lipstick (I thought maybe we would kiss tonight)

The castle was blanketed with a snow that made everything quiet. Everything except the beating of Mary’s heart. She sat in the common room with a book that she had been pretending to read for hours now, stuck on the same page and rereading the same line over and over again without holding on to a single word.

Some of the others were hanging decorations for the Christmas party they were having tonight, the last night before they all split up for the winter holidays.

“Alright Mary?” James asked as he levitated gold tinsel above her head haphazardly, sprinkling gold glitter in her hair and between the pages of the book. James looked down and saw the mess he was making, “Shit, sorry Mary.”

”S’alright. Wasn’t doing much reading anyway.” Mary shut the book and forced a smile. She stood up from the armchair and moved towards the girls dormitories before she felt a hand on her shoulder.

James turned her around, “Are you sure you’re okay? Looked a little spaced out there.”

Mary put on her Mary charm, “Oh, don’t be such a worrywart, Potter. Just a boring book is all. Truth be told, I can't wait to get smashed tonight.”

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, “Well, if you ever need to talk… Alcohol isn’t all your friends are good for, y’know.”

“Oh James, you sap,” she shoved his shoulder and both of them laughed, “I’m going to get ready, now if you don’t mind.”

She didn’t wait for his answer, didn’t look up to confirm he was smiling his dopey one dimpled smile, just slid past and up the stairs to the room she shared with the girl that made her heart want to crawl out of her mouth.

Speak of the devil…

Flaming curls mostly tamed by a chunky braid falling to the middle of her back, Lily was at the mirror applying mascara that brought out the flecks of gold in her green eyes. It was the mascara that Mary gave her years ago, showing her how to put it on without getting clumps in the outer corners.

Marlene didn’t go near the stuff, preferring simple glamor spells or nothing at all, she didn’t understand the appeal of carefully layered creams and powders. Mary couldn’t explain how it felt, the mask of it all, the art.

Even if she could explain it, who would she tell?

So she quietly set her makeup bag next to Lily’s on the bathroom counter. It was indulgent of her, reckless. The bathroom was much too small for this, elbows crashing together, hips pressing against each other. Mary applied extra blush to cover the warmth that bloomed across her cheeks.

“Mary?” Based on her tone, this wasn’t the first time Lily had called her name.

”Yeah?”

”I said how’s the decorating coming along? They haven’t blown anything up yet have they?”

Mary smiled, “Nothing like that… yet”

”Those boys will be the death of me, I swear.” Lily took out a shimmery lip gloss, like she was trying to gut Mary where she stood.

Mary dragged her eyes away from the other girl’s reflection. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll have to pry you off of James at the end of the night.” She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice.

Lily’s hand stuttered, swiping lip gloss over her cheek.

Mary couldn’t stop her hands from reaching out to rub the smear with her thumb, other hand tucking a stray curl behind Lily’s ear. Lily’s face burned beneath her hands.

The lip gloss was gone from the spots it shouldn’t be, but Marys hand was still cradling Lily’s chin, thumb still rubbing circles just outside her mouth.

Lily exhaled, “Mary…”

Mary’s eyes traced her face, from jaw to freckles to eyes. Oh, those eyes. “Lily…”

Lily’s hands reached out, grasping for something to hold on to, anything, like a drowning man. Her fingers sunk into Mary’s waist, pulling them closer together, “Mary…”

Mary slid her fingers further up Lily’s cheek, “Lily…”

Lily leaned in, noses brushing, “Mary…”

Mary closed her eyes, allowed herself to free fall, “Lily…”

They were practically whispering into each other’s mouths now, lip gloss the only thing between them.

Lily jumped back like Mary’s skin burned. Her breaths heaved as she mumbled apologies and fled the bathroom, leaving her makeup sprawled on the counter.

And an utterly lost Mary to clean up the mess.

((hehe ty for reading!! lmk if i should extend this))

[lilacliquors]

pairing: johnny cage x reader

word count: 1030

notes: on the sixth day of ficmas, lilacliquors gave to me ... a christmas party with johnny cage!

it was your boyfriend’s annual christmas party, a great chance to see all of your old friends again and catch up. johnny spared no expenses, going all out to make sure everyone had the times of their lives. and nothing made him happier than to see the smiles and hear the familiar laughter of everyone he knew.

it was getting late when your guests started to filter out, hugging you goodbye and thanking you for hosting, and for the party favors you had put together. and if you were the one responsible for their white elephant gift, they threw in an extra thank you as well. soon, the house was quiet, and you two were alone at last. christmas music still played softly on the radio, and you began to gether up some a few stray dishes and plastic cups. you brought everything into the kitchen, tossing the cups into the trash and and setting the dishes into the sink. you started to wash them, gently swaying to the music as you did so, virtually oblivious to everything going on around you. you didn’t hear johnny entering or walking up behind you, but you felt his arms wrap around your waist as you reached to put the dishes away. he was quiet as he held you, pressing his lips to your hair, and you both listened to the song on the radio.

“johnny, we can’t stay like this,” you chuckled, and he hummed quietly.

“it’s lonely without you,” he whispered back.

“i’ve gotta get back to work cleaning this up.”

“but baby, i’m lonely out there…”

you smiled and turned in his arms, reaching behind you to turn off the sink and grab the rag to try your hands off on.

“this has to get done,” you reminded him.

“what’s the hurry? it can wait,” he replied, his hands pressing against your back.

“then it just piles up!”

“but think about relaxing by the fire for just a bit, come on…”

“we can relax when this is done.”

“but you’ve earned a drink after everything you’ve done. go sit for a tiny break while i make it.”

despite your protests, he gently dragged you from the kitchen and to the living room, where he had you sitting on the couch as he poured you both a glass of your special spiked holiday punch. he handed you the glass, and he sat beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you in closer to his side.

“what would your mother think if she saw this mess?” you asked.

“oh, it’s jot that bad in there,” he said, playing with your hair while you sipped at your punch.

“phew, forgot how strong i made this,” you said, fanning your face.

“you spoiled us tonight with it,” johnny said with a grin. you rolled your eyes playfully and took another sip, his charm slowly winning you over once again.

“i really ought to get back to cleaning,” you mumbled.

“or you could snuggle with me a bit longer,” he suggested with faux innocence. you looked up at him, your eyes locking together, and you felt your resolve cracking even further. his eyes were mesmerizing, and he truly had you under some kind of spell.

“the mess is bugging me,” you said, reaching to set your glass down.

“and being without you is bugging me,” he sighed.

“you can come on inside, keep me company.”

“or you can stay here with me, and let me kiss you once or twice. haven’t done it all night.”

his thumb traced over your bottom lip ever so gently, and you felt yourself melt. he was working overtime to convince you to stay with him, and maybe he was right. the mess could wait a little longer, and you had been on your feet all night, making merry and keeping on top of everything. you were allowed some downtime, and you didn’t get to spend too much time with your boyfriend …

“okay, let me just go put the rest of the clean dishes away, and then i’ll come right back, promise,” you said, but he kept his arm around you.

“i can’t get over how beautiful you look tonight. just one kiss, please?” he whispered. you felt your cheeks heat up, and before you could say anything, his lips were pressed to yours, and your eyes fluttered shut. one of your hands cupped his face, and he held you close, making sure you couldn’t go anywhere. when you pulled away from one another, your head was spinning, and he had the biggest grin on his lips.

“god, your lips are delicious,” he murmured, and you couldn’t help yourself. you leaned in for another kiss, and he eagerly obliged, returning it while shifting to pull you onto his lap. the fire crackled nearby, and the music continued to play softly, but you paid it no mind. you were happy here, and your mind had finally agreed that a little break was warranted after all of your hard work that night. 

when your kiss ended, he continued to hold you on his lap, and he handed you your drink again. you were snuggled up to him, your head on his shoulder, and he kissed your forehead every few minutes, just as a gentle reminder of how much he loved having you like this. you smiled and sipped at your spiked punch, the alcohol warming your body as you enjoyed each other’s company in comfortable silence. snow was falling outside, and the night had never felt so perfect.

“looks really cold out there,” you said, and he nodded.

“i’ll break out the extra blankets for tonight, then,” he said.

“perfect. sorry i was so stubborn earlier,” you said, and he shrugged with a chuckle.

“it did take a lot of convincing. but aren’t you glad you stayed?” he asked, nuzzling you gently.

“yeah, really glad. guess you’re just as stubborn as i am.”

“always will be.”

you kissed his cheek, then settled further into his arms, and he held you with a happy hum. you were right where you needed to be. and the dishes could wait forever.

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 1)

Word count: 9.8k+

Pairings: Sam Kiszka, Jake Kiszka, Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ as always, language, angst, fluff.

A/N: This story is a very special collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon. We have been scheming on this one for a while... If you haven't read her stuff, definitely go check it out. If you have, even better! We are taking this one all the way back to the early days, but we will be going into the present, so hold on tight it will be a bumpy ride. Without further ado...

September 2013

You fidget nervously at your desk, waiting to hear who your assigned partner would be for the History project. School only started a few weeks ago, and you had hardly made friends with anyone in your classes yet. There were a few familiar faces that came with you from middle school, but no one that you really considered to be a friend.

High school was different. Everything was much more fast paced, people were louder, and meaner. You spent the last few weeks acclimating to the change of environment and learning your schedule, which brings you to third period History class.

As you listen to your teacher read off the names of the assigned partners you hold your breath as she reaches your name. 

“Your partner for the semester is Samuel Kiszka.” 

Sam? 

He looks over at you and gives you a soft grin. You can barely see his eyes behind his swooping brown hair. You can see the outline of his braces under his lips as he gives you a soft wave in acknowledgement of his assignment. You smile back and nod your head. 

You wouldn’t say that you and Sam are friends, but you have known him for a long time. Your parents are best friends with his parents and they have been since highschool. There have been many times that the Kiszka’s would spend New Years Eve at your house, or you at theirs. Fourth of July was always spent at the Kiszka’s and even sometimes Thanksgiving. You grew up around the guys, but you never really saw them outside of the holidays. 

When the teacher called out Sam’s name, it was almost a relief. Now you wouldn’t have to spend the entire semester getting to know someone you didn’t choose yourself. You already knew Sam, just superficially. 

As the bell for the end of class rang, you collected up your books and zipped them into your backpack. As you stood up, Sam approached your desk, “Hey partner!” he smiled. 

Looking up at him nervously, you replied “Hey Sam!”

“I’m kind of glad we are partners,” he said, “I don’t really know anyone else yet.”

“I thought the same thing!” you say, reaching in your bag and pulling out a piece of scrap paper. You quickly scribble your number onto the strip and cap your pen. “Here is my number, so that we can start to plan. Seems like it's going to be a huge project.” 

He smiles, and accepts the paper from your fingers. “Cool. I’ll text you later about it. Be thinking of ideas.” he says, nodding his head and walking off. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. 

Thinking of topics for the project proved challenging. You were tasked with explaining the history of a modern day object. It could be anything. You spent a lot of the day thinking of things that were interesting and had a cool history behind them. 

As you sat down at a table for lunch that day you began to unpack the lunch your mom made for you. One or two girls from your previous class sat around you and you talked mindlessly about the pep rally coming up and the football game on Friday. As you zoned out, you noticed Sam. He was sitting at a table with one of his friends who you knew as Danny. They were typical teenage boys, cutting up and cracking jokes. His eyes caught yours and he flashed you a smile, before quickly turning his attention back to Danny. Throughout the rest of the lunch you caught each other's eyes a few more times, but just small glances. He had kind eyes and you could tell he was a good person. Maybe you would get to know him better through this project. 

–

That night as you are studying your Economics book to prepare for the test tomorrow, your phone vibrates on your desk.

Unknown: Hey it’s Sam

Oh, that was quick. I half expected him to lose the paper.

You: Hey Sam!

You quickly add his number to your contacts just as he replies.

Sam: Do you have any ideas for the project?

You: Yeah I do! I was thinking maybe we could do something music related since you are all into that now.

Sam: I’d love that, but are you sure?

You: Yeah, it will be fun and easy. Maybe we can do the evolution of the guitar or something?

Sam: That would be awesome. I always knew you were cool.

You: Lol, thanks…

Sam: Do you want to come to my house tomorrow and we can start on it?

You: You don’t have something better to do on a Friday night?

Sam: Nah, just mess around and play music in the garage like usual. Plus if we get this done we don't have to worry about it the rest of the semester.

You: Good point.

Sam: My brother can drive us to my house if your mom will pick you up later?

You: Sounds good!

–

Much of the next day at school is spent researching between classes and checking out library books about guitars, something you know nothing about. By the time the final bell rang you had consumed so much information about guitars that you felt like you could probably play one if you picked it up. As you walked to the Senior parking lot you heard Sam call your name from behind. You turn around to face him and he runs up to you.

“Hey!” he says, out of breath.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” you ask, clutching the stack of library books in your arms..

“Yeah, I think Jake's car is in the back. We are always late in the morning.” he says annoyed.

You shrug your shoulders and smile. His eyes flick down to the books in your arms, “I’ll carry those.” he says, reaching for the stack.

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ve got it.” you reply nervously. You’ve never had anyone offer to carry your books, and you can feel yourself blushing.

“No, no, I insist.” he says, grabbing the hefty stack from your hands.

“Thanks.” you say with a soft smile and he gives you a side smile back.

He starts to walk to the back of the parking lot and once you arrive at the car you see Jake leaning against the car, waiting, and clearly very annoyed. He looks a lot different than you remember him. His hair has grown out and his clothing style has changed.

He cuts his eyes at Sam, “You’re late….” his eyes look down to the books in Sam’s arms. “Carrying her books, a nice touch brother.” 

“Shut up Jake.” Sam quips back.

Jake's eyes flash to you, widening slightly as he looks at you. His mouth starts to move as if he is going to say something, but he stops himself and purses his lips together, giving you one last glance as he turns on his heels to get into the car. 

You swallow nervously at the awkward exchange, and get into the backseat of the messy sedan. Sam throws his stuff into the back seat next to you and shuts the door, opting for the front seat. 

The drive to their house is short and you’re thankful. Something about Jake’s presence is making you uneasy. You have a swirling feeling in your stomach and a dry mouth. This is only further accentuated by his glances through the rear view mirror. He is studying you, but why?

You quickly look away, embarrassed that he caught you looking back. A small smirk crosses his lips. Sam looks at him with a puzzled look before looking away and turning the radio up.

A few minutes later you are pulling into the driveway of their house. A house you have visited many times before, but never without the buffer of your parents. You get out and shut the door, watching Sam and Jake gather their things before joining you on the front porch. Jake unlocks the door and you all pile inside. He looks at Sam and then to you. His eyes linger for just a moment, before he heads upstairs and the bedroom door closes.

“Has he always been this weird and I never noticed?” you jokingly ask Sam.

He gives you a strange look and shakes his head, “I don’t know what his deal is. Sorry about that.”

“Oh I don’t mind, all good.” you say dismissively. But you do mind, and you will be thinking about that look in the car, for the foreseeable future.

You and Sam spend the next several hours spread out on his living room floor, laying out books, papers, articles and notebooks with research and information, trying to create a timeline. You have created a solid outline for the paper portion of the project, but will have to put in more work on the actual poster board set up and model, as well as actually writing the paper. As you finish outlining the final section of the paper, you hear Jake coming down the stairs and you both turn your heads to look at him. 

Your blood runs cold when you realize he is shirtless. It feels almost wrong to see him like this. You turn away quickly focusing back on the books in front of you. When he makes his way into the kitchen you release a sigh of relief that you hope Sam didn’t notice. As you continue to work, the image of his bare chest flashes through your brain. You push him away and refocus.

A few minutes later he walks into the living room and positions himself on the couch watching the two of you with a smug look as he scrolls on his phone mindlessly.

“What do you want? Go away.” Sam says aggressively.

“Mom said they will be home late and that I need to ‘supervise’ you.” Jake replies smugly with air quotes.

“Supervise? Supervise what?” Sam asks, practically yelling.

Just as Jake went to answer, the front door flew open. Josh waltzes into the living room loudly announcing his arrival. 

“Honey, I’m hooooome!” he exclaims.

He sees you on the floor next to Sam with Jake on the couch, and raises an eyebrow as he hangs his coat on the little metal hook by the door.

He looks over to you with a smile, “Hey! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in forever! How are you liking highschool?” he asks. He has always been the more talkative one of the twins. He always made a point to have a conversation with you at every gathering, Jake not so much.

“Hey Josh! We are partners for History class this semester. We are working on our project. And… highschool is highschool. Nothing to report just yet.” you reply with a laugh.

“Well give it time, good to see you!” he says, bounding up the stairs. 

You look over to Sam who shrugs his shoulders and you can't help but feel Jake's eyes burning into the side of your head. 

“Do you mind if I get a glass of water?” you ask Sam.

“No go ahead.” he says, continuing to write the thought he was having, down onto the paper.

You stand and make your way into the kitchen, opening the cabinet that you know you’ll find the glasses in, and walking over to the fridge. 

You open the door to grab the pitcher and pour the cold water into the glass. As you shut the door you are shocked to find Jake standing a few feet away leaning against the counter. 

Your eyes widen as they connect with him. Your eyes travel the length of his body up and down, taking in the changes that have happened since the last time you saw him. Suddenly you are seeing him in a whole new way. The glow of the fluorescent lights casting a soft shadow on the dips and curves of his abs. His shaggy brown hair hangs in his eyes as he crosses his feet. He is…attractive. Not something you would have ever thought you would think about a Kiszka boy. Having practically grown up together you thought you would always just see them as brothers. That is apparently not the case. 

You realize that you are staring and quickly look away, only to hear him chuckling under his breath. You take a drink out of your glass and nervously walk over to the sink. Your heart is beating fast at your sudden realization of how your body is reacting to his presence. 

He walks over and leans his upper body onto the counter next to you. “Why’re you breathing so heavy?” he asks with a smug grin.

“Drank too fast.” you reply, looking up at him.

“Hmm.” he says, pushing off the counter and walking back into the living room. 

You set your glass in the sink and just stare at it for a second.

Oh god, he totally knows. 

Returning to the living room, you rejoin Sam on the floor and continue to work. About an hour later the doorbell rings.

“Oh yeah, Mom ordered pizza.” Jake says, getting up to answer the door. He collects the boxes and tips the driver before walking to the kitchen. 

“You hungry?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I could eat.” you reply with a smile. 

He smiles back and extends his hand to help you off of the floor. You make your way into the kitchen and stand around the island as Jake takes plates out of the cabinet. 

“Hey can you go tell Josh there's food?” Jake asks Sam.

Sam rolls his eyes and trudges up the stairs. You swallow thickly, realizing you are yet again left alone with Jake. He opens the box and looks up at you. 

You immediately look down at your hands and again you hear him laugh.

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask in an annoyed tone.

“Doing what?” he replies.

“Waiting for me to look at you and then laughing when I look away.” you respond.

He gives you a side smile, “Because…you get all nervous and blush. It’s cute. I think you have a crush on me.”

“No I don’t!” you reply with a bright red face.

“It’s okay if you do. I wouldn’t be mad.” he replies, handing you an empty plate with a smug look.

Before you can say anything, Sam and Josh bound into the kitchen and are so loud that it breaks the tension between you and Jake. 

Thank god.

As Josh and Sam begin to tear into the boxes, Jake raises his voice, “Hey!” and everyone stops and stares at him. Returning his voice to a normal tone he continues, “Ladies first guys, come on.”

If your face were any more red you would turn into a tomato. You quickly walk over and grab 2 slices, and find a seat at the table. You sit just staring at your plate trying to process everything that just happened. 

How does he know I think he’s cute?

Why didn’t I deny it again? Now he probably thinks it’s true!

The rest of the guys join around the table and begin their conversations. Jake is sitting across from you and you have done remarkably well not looking at him one time. You can tell he notices too. 

As Josh asks about your History project, Sam starts to explain your selected topic. As you listen in on all of the research he is talking about you feel something slide across your foot, and you instantly know what it is. You face flames red again and you see a small, hardly noticeable smile cross Jake's lips. 

You pull your leg back so that the contact is lost. Josh asks you what you know about guitars and you tell him that you know absolutely nothing about them. You have never even held one. You grab your glass of water taking a sip as Josh responds.

“You know, Jake could probably teach you a few things if you were interested.” he says, and you nearly choke. The water has slipped past your throat in just the wrong way. 

You feel his foot slide across the side of your ankle, and you try to gain your composure. 

“Yeah, you just call me if you’re interested.” he says with a side smile.

You know his words mean something different than what Josh intended and your heart starts to beat quickly as his eyes stare into yours.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, you feel his foot twisting with yours trying to get your attention but you do your best to ignore him. What does he want from me anyways?

You all finish up and pile your plates in the sink and you and Sam return back to the living room to keep working. Josh and Jake are in the kitchen cleaning up as the doorbell rings. 

“I’ll get it!” Sam yells out, and he walks to the door, opening it to reveal Danny.

You knew Sam and Danny were best friends, they had been since school started a few weeks ago. They were always together.

“Crap, I forgot to text you. I’m trying to get this History project done so we don’t have to worry about it.” he says, letting Danny in the door.

“Hi Danny.” You say standing up to greet him. He returns the hello and turns back to Sam, “I can go. No big deal.”

Sam looks conflicted, and turns to you, “Do you think we have done enough for today?” he asks. You can tell he doesn’t want Danny to leave.

“Yeah, I think we have a really good head start. I just need to text my mom to come get me, and I’ll be out of your hair.” you say pulling your phone from your pocket. 

“Well, we are just gonna play some music in the garage, you can stay if you want to?” he says.

“Oh, it’s Friday night, I don’t want to intrude on your plans…” you say.

Jake comes into the living room from around the corner, “Think of it like research for your project. Need to see one in action if you’re gonna try and write about it, right?” he says with a smirk.

Smooth…

You look at Sam who is shrugging and nodding his head in agreement.

You bite your lips inward and turn back to Jake, “Okay, just for a little bit. I do want to see you play – I mean, I want to see all of you play – I didn’t mea–” you stammer, stumbling over your words. You actually aren’t sure what you meant, but you think it was probably close to the first thing. 

“Cool…” he replies with a smug grin.

Jake places a hand on your shoulder and lets it slide across the top of your back as he makes his way upstairs. You shove your phone back into your pocket and take a deep breath. 

“You can follow us out the garage, but grab your jacket, there’s no heat.” he says, waving his hand to follow after him.

You follow him and Danny out the side door and into the stand alone garage at the end of the gravel path. He turns on the fluorescent lights that start to buzz as they warm up. You see a drum kit, a bass and an electric guitar all hooked up to amps and you turn to look at Sam, “When did all this happen? This wasn’t here last time I was here!” you ask, surprised.

“We kinda got serious about it over the summer. We are gonna try and make a go of it I think. We have some songs worked up, and Danny is our new drummer.” he answers.  You sit down on the old faded red couch and cross your legs. A few minutes later the door opens and Jake and Josh come in to join you. Josh sits next to you on the couch as Jake throws the guitar strap over his shoulder. He has on a hoodie now, but that doesn't stop you from picturing how he looked in the kitchen earlier. Almost as if he knew what you were thinking a smile flashed across his lips as he turned on the amp. Hearing his guitar roar to life you feel a spark travel through you. He is so concentrated and the way his hands are moving across the strings is bringing back that swirling feeling from earlier. He is in his element, and he wanted you to see it.

For the next hour they played to an audience of just you, Josh eventually getting up to join them for a few covers. You didn’t even know Josh could sing. You’re actually glad you stayed. They sound good, better than you expected, and it's nice to actually be doing something other than homework on a Friday night. 

Bouncing your foot along with the music you look at each of the guys, examining their hands and the movements they are making to create the sounds you are hearing. You find your gaze fixed upon Jake and his hands, far longer than any of the others. When you realize and look up you see his eyes trained on you, watching you just as intently as you were watching him. He nods his head in a come here motion, and you reel back slightly. What?

“Come here,” he speaks out.

You stand nervously and approach him. He slings the guitar strap over his head before placing it over your shoulder. It hangs heavily around your neck, as he smiles. “Okay, grab the neck,” he says, picking up your hand and placing it on the frets, “and this arm…” he says, pulling it through the strap, “Rests here. There, now you have held a guitar.” he smiles. 

The feeling of his hands on your body in any capacity is enough to send your nervous system into overdrive. You feel like you might faint, but quickly reel it in. He walks around to the front of the guitar and places your fingers on the strings in a specific pattern. 

“Okay, hold those there. It might hurt a little but it will go away.” he says, pulling the dark green guitar pick out of his teeth and handing it to you. “Okay take this and strum the strings.” 

You do as he says and the note rings out. A smile crosses your face and his. You cant help but notice the shine in his eyes. A look of pride. 

“Hey! You did it! You’ll be replacing Jake in no time!” Josh jokes from his stool. You look over to Sam who has an annoyed look on his face. 

“Jake, isn’t your girlfriend coming over or something…” Sam asks pointedly.

Jake doesn’t answer, but he steps backwards from you, realizing the way things must look.

Your eyes flick back to him and you notice his face is red and you try to break the tension, “Thanks, I feel like I am definitely qualified to write about this now.” you joke, removing the strap from around your neck and handing the guitar back to him. Your hand brushes his in the exchange and you feel that spark again. 

As you make your way back to the couch you pull your phone from your pocket and send a quick text to your mom letting her know she could come pick you up. You spend the next twenty minutes watching them play and goof around with different songs. When she texts you that she is here, you stand up and zip your coat to prepare to leave. 

“Are you going?” Jake is the first to ask, and you see a look cross his face that must be embarrassment that he has come across eager. 

“Yeah, my mom is here, so I need to get my things from inside.” you say.

“I’ll walk you inside.” Sam says, quickly throwing his bass onto the stand. You see Jake's mouth open, but he closes it and steps back biting his cheek.

What was he going to say?

“Thanks for letting me stay and hang out with you guys! Can’t wait until you’re headlining an arena some day” you laugh, waving at all of them and stepping over the threshold of the door. You close the door gently behind you peering through the pane of glass to see Jake giving you his own version of goodbye with his eyes.  

-

As you lay in your bed that night the memory of your impromptu guitar lesson played through your head, closely followed by a pair of piercing brown eyes willing you to stay just a little longer. Against your will and better judgment you fall asleep that night thinking about Jake Kiszka. 

-

The next several Fridays were spent at the Kiszka house. Your parents were thrilled that you had formed a friendship with the guys and his parents had extended an open invitation for your welcome into their home whenever you wanted. Fridays turned into Saturdays which turned into going to hangout with Sam most days after school. You and Sam had become extremely close friends, even after the project was all said and done Freshman year. You and Sam even went to prom together Junior year. At a certain point you thought Sam might have feelings for you, but when you started dating Michael Carvey later that year, that suspicion went away. By summer of Senior year, Michael was but a passing memory and you and Sam were closer than ever. Their band actually had taken off. They were on the path to even record an EP. You had never been happier for them. You had seen first hand just how hard they worked to get there. You even helped Sam pass Calculus so that his parents would let him go play bar gigs in Detroit til 2AM. He was your best friend, and you would do anything for him. You just wanted to see him succeed, and he was. 

While Sam never truly came out with his feelings for you after Michael, you knew. He knew. It was unspoken. You spent practically all of your time with him, but you didn’t feel that way about him. But what he didn’t know, and what you could never tell him was why. It would ruin your friendship. It was Jake, and it had been since that day in the garage. You thought that he was just your first real crush, and that when you had a boyfriend that feeling would go away. But it didn’t. Throughout the years it was a look here, or a touch there. He would say or do something, anything to keep you hanging on and it worked. You both knew it. But you also both knew nothing could ever come of it. You couldn’t do that to Sam. As the years passed you grew distant from Jake as he and Josh went off to college. You and Sam grew closer and now Senior year was drawing to a close. 

May 2017

“Hello?” you answered your phone.

“Hey… did they tell you?” Sam asked.

“Who? Tell me what?” you ask.

“Our parents think they are sneaky and are throwing us a surprise Graduation party” he says with a sigh.

“Oh, well I guess it's not a surprise now, huh?” you laugh.

“I hate surprises!” he says, “I only found out because I heard my mom talking to Josh on the phone.”

“Oh, is Josh coming home for this?” you ask, knowing that if Josh was going, Jake wouldn’t be too far behind. 

“Yeah I think they both are. Lucky us…” he says in an annoyed tone.

“Yeah, well, let's just get through the actual graduation before we worry about the party, okay?” you ask.

“Alright, talk to you later.” he says hanging up.

You throw your phone onto your bed and bring your hand to your chest. 

You haven't seen Jake in months. A feeling of anxiety washes over you at the thought. You have kept up with him on social media but he hasn’t been home when you’ve gone to hang out with Sam lately. They just finalized their EP and he and Josh have been in Detroit working on the tour schedule. You got into U of M  for the fall term and you are so excited you can hardly wait. Sam decided against college, following after Jake. He wants to see where the band will take him, knowing that if he decides to stop the band, college will still be an option. You disagree with his choice, but he is your best friend and you will support him with whatever he decides. Danny did the same, shortly followed by Josh dropping out of U of M. Jake only attended the first year of college, deciding that his band was his dream. They were going to make it, you just had a feeling.

 -

A few days later as you are putting on your graduation dress, you stop and look at yourself in the mirror. You remember standing in this exact spot the day you started highschool, wondering who you would be, and what you would look like in four years. A lot has changed since that moment. You have filled out, become more of a woman than a young girl. You are smart, 5th in your class. You have a partial scholarship to your top choice college and a whole bright future ahead of you. You have had a few boyfriends, a few different hair styles and a few friends come and go. But one thing has remained constant in those passing four years. The forbidden and undeniable tug in your heart for Jake. 

You stand up pushing the thought from your mind as you grab your cap and gown and head downstairs to meet your parents. They think they have pulled a fast one on you with this whole surprise party, and you let them believe it. You know they are going to miss you terribly when you leave for college. 

Hours later as you strut across the stage to accept your diploma, you notice a face in the crowd that tugs on that heartstring once again. You wondered if he would be here. He looks different now, his hair longer, grown out to the tops of his shoulders. His face more structured and defined, his eyes somehow darker and more brooding. His lips, more plump and inviting.  

Stop, this is not his moment. 

As the Principal hands you your diploma you exit the stage and take your seat. You are proud of your accomplishments and who you have become, and you find yourself wondering if he is too.

-

As you pull into the driveway at the Kiszka house, you see cars lined up all up and down the streets, in typical Kiszka fashion they have invited the whole town. As your family makes their way inside everyone rushes towards you and congratulates you on your achievement. You spend the next 20 minutes greeting everyone and thanking them for coming and for all of their support over the past few years. As your parents get tangled up in conversation you make your way to the kitchen to see if you can sneak yourself a drink. As you step into the kitchen he's there. Standing. Waiting. Almost as if he knew this would be your first stop. A soft side smile crosses his face as he extends a red solo cup to you. You smile and take it, taking a sip and you nearly choke.

“What in the world is this?” you say disgusted.

“A little bit of everything. You better get used to it, college girl.” he says playfully.

You roll your eyes with a smile and take another sip, knowing it's only a matter of time until you’re whisked away by another family member. 

“I didn’t think you would come. Haven’t seen you in a while.” you say casually.

“You thought I would miss this?” he asks, almost as if you’d hurt him.

“I don’t know… You have just been busy, with the EP and all…” you trail off.

He pushes off the counter and looks behind him, before bringing a hand to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek bone. He pauses for a second, just looking at you.

“You’re so beautiful.” he says, his hand sliding off your face, and down your arm. His fingertips graze yours as he turns and walks away.

JAKE POV

You had to go. You had to get out of there. You walk out of the kitchen, the smell of her perfume still lingering in your nose. You can smell it on your hand. The hand that touched her perfectly soft face, just seconds ago. You knew if you stood there for one second longer it would be over. Everything you have fought for years, gone in an instant. You would kiss her, and it would ruin everything. So instead you left her there, with the only thing that you could force out of your mouth. 

‘You’re so beautiful.’

And god, was she. That was just the tip of the iceberg. She always was. Even that day so long ago, sprawled out on your living room floor next to Sam. You haven't let that day slip from your mind even once. She was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen. You felt compelled to be near her. You couldn’t stay away.

It’s been four years, and with each passing day you watched her change and grow and turn into the beautiful woman that was standing in front of you, and even after all this time and everything that has happened between you, you still can’t have her. 

You remember the day Sam told you that he liked her. It was just a few short weeks after that night in the garage. You were crushed, but he could never know that. You knew you could never have her, simply because he wanted her. She was his best friend. It was forbidden. So you watched from afar, wishing it was you laughing with her on the phone each night. Texting her the funny things that happened in your day, or just hanging out and going to movies together. Anything with her. But it wasn’t you. It was Sam. The worst part of it all, was knowing she didn’t feel the same for him, and trying to help him see it himself. 

You both knew it would never be more than stolen glances, and secrets. Even if you both wanted it. There would always be Sam.

-

Stepping back into your bedroom you shut the door, and walk over to your dresser. You open the tiny wooden box on top and dig out the joint you rolled earlier in the day, thanking yourself for thinking ahead. You put it in the front pocket of your shirt, along with a lighter. You close the box and glance over to the card sitting on your desk. You have been debating on whether or not you were going to give it to her all day. You look away and walk back to the door, twisting the knob and leaving the room. 

The party is starting to die down, a lot of your parents' friends have already left, but a few linger still. You join your siblings and friends in the basement, knowing that she will be down there. You run your fingers through your hair quickly, and take a deep breath as you head down the steps. Everyone is hanging out, lounging on the couches and chairs, even a few people are spread across the floor. You see her on the couch next to Sam and you look away as you go to sit next to Josh on the floor. He is right in the middle of telling a story in his usual overly animated style. You never really understood how he did that. You were never good at storytelling. 

You lean back on your arms and cross your legs in front of you. You look around the room and your eyes meet hers. She bites her lip into her mouth as she looks at you. You wished she wouldn’t do that. You find yourself thinking of how her lips would feel between your own teeth. It wouldn’t be the first time you thought of it, however. Her eyes dart away from yours as Sam begins to speak. 

Your eyes move down her body, focusing on the light reflecting off of her bare legs. They look so smooth, they are practically shining, even in the dim lighting of the basement. You force yourself to look away, and start a side conversation with Josh, but the whole time all you think about is her and how she looked at you in the kitchen. How she has always looked at you.

You have purposefully stayed away from her for the past few months. You couldn’t trust yourself, and you have thankfully been busy with the EP and planning the tour. You have spent a lot of time in Detroit and have scarcely been home. But that didn't mean you weren’t thinking of her. She was always there. 

Everytime you would come home you would hope she was there hanging out with Sam, just wanting one glance from her to hold you over another few weeks. But she wasn’t. So when your mom called and asked if you could come home for Sam’s graduation, you didn’t hesitate to jump in your car and head home immediately. You knew she would be there, and here she was, even more beautiful than the last time you saw her.

Knowing that you needed to get her out of your head you stand up and walk back upstairs, making your way to the back porch. You position yourself on the old wicker patio set in the corner and pull the tightly rolled joint from your shirt pocket.

Placing your feet on the table in front of you, you block the wind and light the end of the joint. 

Taking a long drag you breathe in as deeply as your lungs can take and let it slip slowly past your lips.

You tilt your head back onto the chair and stare up at the night sky, counting each star and trying to pick out the patterns you recognize. A smile crosses your face as you find the little dipper. It always makes you think of her. Her sophomore year, Fourth of July. You pointed it out to her. Somehow she had never seen it. It was the first time you held her, trying to position her the right way to be able to see it. You never wanted it to end. Her hand gripped yours tightly when she saw it, it was perfect. Ever since that night you always think of her when you see it. You can always find it. It’s always there. Just like her, in your heart.

A low rumble sounds through the house as you hear Sam and Danny playing around with a guitar in the basement. Typically you would join in, but tonight you are perfectly fine right here staring up at the stars imagining what if. Just far enough away to clear your mind but still close to her. You can feel her near you. After a few minutes you hear the door open and tilt your head to see who it is. You sit up a little when you see that it's her. You knew she would come looking for you. She always does and you’re always waiting. 

She walks over and sits in the chair next to you crossing her legs on the table just like yours. You both just look at each other, no words needed to be said. This was a familiar occurrence between the two of you. Many times over the years you have found yourself in this exact spot sharing a joint together, each time as if no time has passed at all. No talking, just being together, existing in the same space. But tonight was different.  

Your eyes flick to hers, and you pass it to her, her nimble fingers taking it from yours. You watch as she presses the paper to her lips inhaling and closing her eyes as she tilts her head back to look at the sky, much in the same way you just were. The smoke billows from her lips and you watch her chest rise and fall. The moon is bright, not a single cloud to dull its shine as it glows across her skin. You swallow thickly as you try to stifle the situation in your jeans. She passes it back to you, and you press it to your lips, knowing that the shared saliva on the tip is the closest you’ll ever get to tasting her.

“Jake?” she finally speaks up.

You turn your head to face her, involuntarily almost. Your body is betraying you. “Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” she asks nervously.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“In the kitchen, when you said…” she trails off. 

You let a soft smile cross your face, “Yeah I meant it. You are beautiful. You always have been and I’m so proud of you.”  you confess reaching your hand out to run your fingers over the small stretch of skin on her arm. You see her face soften and it takes every ounce of your strength to not kiss her right then.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol, the weed or both, but you got brave and now the truth is out.

“I’m proud of you too, you know.” she says, taking the joint back from your fingers. She takes a pull of it and hands it back. “I’m proud of all of you of course, but you… it’s different. The EP is so good. People love it and I know why… it came from here.” she says gently, placing her hand over your heart. The electrifying sensation zapping through your body just as quickly as her hand pulled away. Your hand instinctively reached for the spot hers was just in, before you could even realize. 

The music inside is growing louder and you can hear Josh starting to sing. They will be down there for a while. If you’re going to do it, it has to be now. 

“Hey, stay here, I have to get something. I’ll be right back.” You hand her the quickly dwindling joint and sprint upstairs to find the card you wrote her. There it sits on your desk, waiting and hoping to be opened. You grab it and shove it into the back pocket of your jeans before you make your way back downstairs and back onto the porch. Your heart is pounding as you rejoin her. You can tell that she is feeling the effects of the weed, as she is not trying to avoid eye contact anymore. Her eyes are locked in on your every movement. 

You pull the blue envelope out of your pocket and nervously hand it to her. Her brow furrows and she accepts it, reading her name across the front in your messy handwriting. 

“Jake…” she says, pulling the card out of the envelope. 

“Just open it…” you say nervously. 

Her eyes shoot up when she opens the card and notices it. You feel like your heart stops beating for a second as she realizes what it is. You let out a silent breath as you see the corners of her lips turning upward into a smile. 

Taped inside the card was a small green guitar pick. The same one you used that night in the garage. The one you have carried with you everyday since. 

“Jake you kept this?” she asked, rhetorically. 

“I’ve had it with me everyday. Kept it in my wallet. I know it’s stupid… I just…” you stammer.

“It’s not stupid Jake… but why are you giving it to me, you’ve kept it all this time…” she asks, confused on why you would give her something you’ve kept for so long.

Your face turns a dark crimson as you tell her the reason, “Well, I have carried that with me everyday for four years, like… a little piece of you was always with me. Now, I want you to have it. Carry a piece of me… with you. So you don’t forget me when you go away. You have always been my first pick, here’s your proof.” you say nervously.

She looks down, her eyes filled with tears, and smooths her pointer finger over the pick. She closes the card and her eyes flick up to yours. They are different, sad, but dark. She places the card on the table and stands up, walking to lean against the railing that overlooks the ravine next to your childhood home. 

You stand and join her, feeling like you have messed up. Like you shouldn’t have said that.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset yo–” you are cut off as her hands cup your jaw, and finally after years of dreaming about it, you feel her lips pressed against yours. Your hand finds its place on the back of her neck, pulling her closer into you as your other hand meets the small of her back. 

It’s heaven, ecstasy, pure bliss, any beautiful and mind blowing word you could conjure would never be able to explain the feeling coursing through your veins. You can feel every emotion that neither of you could ever explain, being described perfectly as your lips meld with hers. Her soft, perfect lips. Everything you’ve ever wanted.  

She pulls away, far too soon. Your body is still gravitating to hers. Her hands release your face and smooth down the front of your chest, before pulling away. You can tell than neither of you wanted it to end. But you both knew it had to. At least you had this. This one perfect moment with her. 

She pulls you in for a hug, but this hug is not happy. This hug is sad, and longing. This hug says I will miss you, and I’m not ready to leave you yet. 

“The best gift. Thank you Jake.” she whispers as she pulls away, letting you go. 

–

HER POV

You sit on the bed in your childhood bedroom, knowing that in a few short weeks this will all be a distant memory. You will be living away from home, no family, no friends. No Sam. No Jake. The thought is dreadful, but you are excited to start new. You were so overwhelmed by Jake’s card tonight. The pick… You can’t believe he kept it, after all this time. Why he kept it... It nearly shattered you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read what he had written in the card, knowing you would burst into tears. You had to stand up and walk away, but he was there, ready to comfort you, thinking that he had done something wrong when in reality he did everything right. The kiss. You can’t even put into words the kiss. It was everything. You hoped he could feel how much you loved him. 

So now you find yourself here, sitting on your bed, staring at the card in front of you, willing yourself to read the words he has written, just for you. 

You open the card, seeing the pick taped inside, and his perfectly sloppy handwriting.  

Hey college girl,

Proud of you for being a smartypants. I always knew you were smarter than me. But I do have some advice for you, since I am older and therefore wiser, ha ha. 

Skip at least 1 class a month to go do something fun.

Don’t waste too much of your time perfecting your homework, C’s get degrees…

Never go anywhere alone. If you ever find yourself alone, I’m only a phone call away.

You laugh at his advice, it is so perfectly Jake. Written messily underneath the pick you see his parting line. 

I’ve kept a piece of you with me, and now a piece of me will be with you. Don’t forget me.

All my love, 

Jake

You close the card and put it on your night stand. You pull the blankets over your head and turn off the lamp. As you lie alone with your thoughts on what is supposed to be a happy day, you cry yourself to sleep knowing that you could never forget him. Even if you wanted to.

–

August 2017

“Where do you want this?” Sam asks, holding up your full length mirror.

“How about near the closet somewhere?” you ask.

Sam graciously offered to help you and your parents move your things into your dorm room. He was leaving for tour in a few days and he wanted to spend every last second together before you were both separated from each other. You spent practically all summer together, hanging out, going to the lake, watching them practice for tour. The summer went by too quickly, but you knew it would. Things were changing, Sam became more and more busy with the band, and you were busy preparing everything for your move and classes. When he offered to help you move in you accepted, knowing it would probably be the last time you saw him for a long time. 

“Okay honey, that's everything.  Only need to unpack these boxes of random stuff, and you will be all moved in.” your mom says, teary eyed. 

“Thanks mom, I couldn’t have done all of this without you, really.” you say pulling her in for a hug. 

Your dad follows behind her, giving you his signature bear hug. “You call us if you need anything. I mean it.” he says sternly.

“I will dad, I promise.” you reply and with that they leave you to your new life as a college student. 

You stand in your room, staring at the door, as Sam starts to speak. “Are you okay?” he asks nervously. You feel his arm encircling your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a little bit sad. Everyone is leaving me.” you reply.

“Not really, they are only an hour and a half away,” he says.

“Not just them, you too.” you say.

“I’m not leaving you! We are just going for a few months. It will go by quickly. I can come visit as soon as we get back! Or maybe you can come see a show or…” he trails off.

“Plus, you can call me or text me whenever you want. You know I always answer you.” he smiles. “Dont, be sad. You’re too pretty to be sad.”

You snap your head to look at him, he has never said something like that to you.

“What?” he asks.

“Well… you never say that kind of stuff to me Sam.” you say curiously. 

“Yeah I know, but I have been thinking…” he says.

You nod your head, encouraging him to continue his thought.

“Do you remember the day we got partnered up Freshman year?” he asks. 

“Yeah?” you reply.

“When I found out you were my partner I was so excited. But I tried to play it cool. I just thought you were soooo pretty.” he laughs. 

He starts to unpack one of the boxes full of random items as he continues, “The night you came over, I didn’t even know how to handle what I was feeling, you were so smart, and funny. I couldn’t understand why I never saw it before. I mean, we knew each other for years.” he says, placing books on your little book shelf. 

“I was so excited you stayed to watch us jam in the garage. I wanted to impress you. A few weeks later I admitted to myself that I liked you. I even asked Jake for advice. None of it worked, obviously. ” he smiles shrugging with his shoulders.

Jake knew? Why didn’t he tell you?

“I worked up all my courage to ask you to Prom, I was still nervous though. I was going to try to kiss you that night. I clearly didn't...” he laughed.

“Then when you started dating Michael, I had the answer I needed. You obviously didn’t feel the same way about me. I put my feelings aside and continued to just be your best friend. I was fine with that. I’ve been fine with that. But now, we are leaving, and you’re starting school and it just feels like I had to tell you. You had to know, if you didn’t already.”

“Sam…” you drag his name out. 

“I know, I know, so typical. Guy falls in love with his best friend…” he laughs.

“In love?” you ask shocked.

“Of course…how could I not? But… I know it’s not like that for you. Or else it would have happened long before now.” he says, closing the drawer of your nightstand. 

He knows, he gets it. But he doesn’t know why. 

“You are my best friend Sam...Practically my brother. I love you, you know that. But I love you like a brother.” you say, ashamed, and knowing that you are crushing him.

“I figured that’s what you would say. There are no hard feelings, I promise.” he says with a smile. But you know it's a lie.

“Are you sure, I feel so stupid…” you reply.

“No, you’re not stupid. I promise. I mean you’re the one going to college here...” he laughs.

“Sam you got into HARVARD.” you laugh.

“Yeah…wasn’t for me…” you both laugh and the tension melts away.

A little while later, you are unpacking the last box and you see all of the pictures you selected for your bulletin board. You grab the thumb tacks and the stack of photos and mementos and turn to put them up. 

“Oh, I can do that. I’m good at collaging.” Sam jokes. 

You hand him the stack and turn back to your bottomless pit of a last box. 

You carry a few items to the closet, and peek over your shoulder to check on his progress. 

“Looks good Sammy!” you yell behind you.

When you return to the room you see him sitting on the bed reading something. The blood drains from your face as you see exactly what it is. 

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, you can feel the venom in his tone.

You walk over to him and snatch the card out of his hands and tuck it under your arm. Ignoring his question. But you know it’s too late. He read it. 

“What is that? I know it's from Jake… I could recognize that handwriting anywhere!” he demands.

“Nothing, Sam! He just gave me a card at that graduation party! It wasn’t even supposed to be in that box. I don’t know why it’s in there. Must have been an accident.” you say, tossing it in the small trash can by your desk. 

You can see his body relax as he watches the folded blue card hit the bottom of the can, and with it the entirety of your heart. 

You never thought that the first thing you would learn in college would be that your best friend is in love with you. Only to be quickly followed by him reading his own brother's private confession, meant for your eyes only. He changes the subject quickly so you know he didn’t read into it too much, and you are thankful. The last thing you want to do is try to explain. 

Another hour or so of packing and talking and it’s time for Sam to go. A few tears and a lot of ‘I’ll miss you’s’ later, you watch as his hand me down Subaru pulls away from your dorm. With a promise of ‘I’ll call you’, you head back into your room. 

Rushing straight to the trash can you pick up the card, running your fingers over the letters as you let the tears fall. You hate lying to Sam. You wish you could be honest, but you know you can't. Especially now.

How could you do this to him? He is your best friend. Your best friend who is in love with you… He would never understand. 

Tears roll down your cheek as you pin the card to your bulletin board. The pick still sits perfectly taped inside the card. You haven’t brought yourself to take it out, afraid you will lose it. You couldn’t bear the thought. It sits right next to a picture of you and Sam. His arm draped around the back of your neck pulling your face close to his. Both of you are wearing huge, happy smiles.  

Your best friend. 

A pang of guilt shoots through your chest as you imagine how Sam must have felt all these years. Hearing you complain about boys and watching you date them, when all he wanted was for it to be him. All the times you cried to him on the phone about your bad dates and break ups…He was always there. 

In a way you almost feel like you led him on, spending almost everyday with him this summer. You knew you two had grown closer, but you didn’t know how much more it meant to him. All the while you were pining after his brother. The brother who he asked for advice. About you. You, never even throwing a thought his way. Now you’re here at college, and they are leaving for tour. You’re not sure when you’ll see them again, but maybe the distance will be good. Maybe it will give you all the clarity you need. 

You decide to take a shower to rinse away the day, and hope that it will help you relax into your new surroundings. It’s hard being in a new place where no one knows you. It’s scary and lonely. You triple check the lock on your door and text your mom that you are in for the night, so that she doesn’t worry.

As you crawl into the unfamiliar twin bed, you read a few pages of a book your mom bought you, and find yourself growing drowsy with each flip of a page. When your phone vibrates next to you, your eyes pop open, waking you from your light sleep. You pick it up wondering who it could be, and when you see the name on the screen it nearly takes your breath away. 

Jake.

With shaking hands you swipe to open the message and what you are met with, sends a chill down your spine.

Jake: Sam called.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 2

[6okuto]

ATTACHMENT LOVE

🧺 #11: "you and i don’t love each other but i know too much about your mother / we’ll make this work" with hinata for @quikhs ! :-)

warnings: gn!reader, reader’s mom wants to have dinner (just a mention) (song link)

it’s been 3 months since hinata’s stayed the night at your apartment.

practice, work, outings with people other than each other—nothing seemed to line up, and when they did, it seemed too a heavy task for either of you to reach out, exhaustion and something else between the gaps of your bones and schedules.

you’re not sure what that something else is, or if he feels it too. you’re not sure if you want to know. but you feel it in dwindling good morning’s and plans cancelled long before his last sleepover, feel it fill the space your boyfriend used to as you wash his scent out of borrowed sweaters.

but shoyo’s here tonight, and that’s what matters, you think.

his toothbrush from 3 months ago slides as you move to change your own, and you figure you might as well change his too.

“changing our toothbrushes, do you care what colour yours is?” your voice bounces back at you while you look in the cupboard. there’s only three in the pack you have—primary coloured—and you figure he’d like yellow most. you grab red for yourself.

shoyo rubs his feet together, sitting on the edge of your bed instead of sprawling across. “mm, you can leave it for now, it’s okay,” he reassures you.

“...you sure?”

“yeah.”

“...okay.”

your eyes hover on the unused face masks he bought you for your birthday, and you let the noise of cardboard backing ripping from plastic fill the space neither of you can seem to.

shoyo calls you from the room over.

that something else roots in your stomach. “yeah?”

he doesn’t say anything for a second, two, and you take a breath.

“i ran into the girl—remember the one who, uh, kept trying to unlock the door one night because she was drunk and didn’t realize she was on the wrong floor?” you pull the memory up and along with your voice while your fingers tremble, stumble on their way to place the last toothbrush in the cupboard and almost drop it to the marble below.

and maybe shoyo notices what you’re doing—he must. he always does. “...yeah, and i thought i was gonna have to fight someone with your vacuum somehow. did she try apologizing again?”

“she almost did,”—you half smile, save the memory, that night, from sinking and drowning—“but i saw her stop herself. we just said hi and talked a little. found out she has a cat so i wanna drop by at some point if you wanna come.”

you’ve made your way back to your bedroom, and shoyo’s still sitting on the edge of your bed. he smiles, and it’s kind, not apologetic or pitying, but understanding all the same.

you’re not sure if its toward her or you.

he says your name again. quieter this time, but steady as he always is.

you purse your lips.

“and my mom wants to have dinner with us.” you grasp at the next thought. “she said she has some new recipes she wants us to try before she brings it to the next holiday party, and she wants to see your mom, too, and natsu, since it’s been so long. if that’s– if that’s okay with them– with you.”

“is that okay with you?” he squints, just a little.

the floorboard creaks as you shift your weight under his gaze, and you fiddle with your hands behind your back so he can’t see. (it doesn’t matter—he knows anyway.) “why wouldn’t it be?”

shoyo takes a breath while you hold yours.

“...yeah, okay.” his exhale is deep. “i’m not as busy this month, so i’ll ask my mom what her schedule looks like. natsu’ll be excited so i’m sure she’ll be good to go whenever.”

he moves further onto your bed as he thinks out loud. “you know i think she likes your mom’s food more than mine– i tried cooking lunch for her a while ago and the look she gave me. is my cooking that bad? i thought i stopped adding too much salt but maybe my salt senses are just dulled?”

and just for a moment, everything’s back to the way it was months ago: shoyo rambling, hands planted behind him on the mattress, you smiling as he whines, both of you in your pajamas for a night in.

but your mind lingers on the toothbrush still sitting next to your new one, and the way your boyfriend won’t lie down on your bed—an old acquaintance unfamiliar with a place that used to be as much his home as it is yours—and that something else that’s been creeping in the space between you knocks at your chest incessantly, an unwelcome visitor that has the decency to wait for your permission to enter.

you wish it would just leave or break inside.

“sho.” your voice is quiet, but catches his attention all the same. the sunset drifts over tangerine strands and honey brown eyes, lights up the dust that twirls around as he looks up at you, and you wish you were asking anything else but what you are.

“is this okay?”

whatever this is.

shoyo blinks, once, twice. sighs and smiles one more time. “i don’t think so.”

qui !! thank u so much for joining and ur ask 🥹🥹!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME!! this one was a toughie,, doesn't play out exactly like the song. shoyo has a lot of emotional intelligence but i think he struggles in this case because he’s never had a break-up before and. it’s you. he still cares for you, even if it isn’t in the same way, and he doesn’t want to hurt you and ..? he came tonight because he knows you should talk but. he gets there and he sees all the evidence of him and your life together and everything’s harder when the time comes isn’t it. hm. anyway. if u ever write something ur proud of feel free to tag me !! i'm vry happy u enjoy mine,, thank u again!! 🥹🥹