#that’s why he is never in the driver’s seat

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Being in Rafe’s truck again is like being thrown back into a bad dream you can’t wake up from. You remember every detail from that night, the smell of bleach, the ache in your bones.

He parked by the edge of the country club lot, and as he settles in his seat and shuts the door, he wraps both of you in privacy behind his tinted windows.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice cutting through the tension. Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. He seems nervous, a contradiction to the smugness you’ve gotten used to.

“You were right,” he admits. “Cops aren’t even sniffing around yet and people think it was me.”

You meet his eyes, the blue hue bright and striking. The night it happened, you’d only seen him through the dark. Now, in the daylight, he almost looks innocent. But then you remember the loudness of the gun and how angry he looked when he fired it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Last night,” he begins, “a few of us were hanging out and people were talking about how something might’ve happened to him. This guy had his name in my mouth… said some shit about how they should probably ask me.”

You nod slowly, taking his words in. You expected as much. As someone who openly hated Porter, Rafe’s likely at the top of everyone’s list of suspects.

“What’d you do?” you say.

“I swung at him.”

You exhale defeatedly, looking up at the ceiling of his car. He’s such a loose cannon that for the first time since that night, you worry that he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

“Damn it, Rafe,” you complain. “And you were giving me shit for being obvious?”

His temper flares like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline.

“I’m not gonna sit there and let some asshole say that shit about me,” he mutters. “This is why we need to have our story straight, alright? If you even think about ratting me out, you’ll regret it.”

You tense up. So, this is why he so desperately needed to talk to you. You can’t believe you thought you could find any comfort in him.

“You don’t need to threaten me,” you say sharply. Rafe is taken aback by the confusion on your face. You look like you’d never even considered selling him out. But maybe you’re just a great liar.

“We said we’re in this together,” you continue. “Neither of us leaves the other, no matter how messy it gets. That’s the whole point of being each other’s alibis.”

Rafe sucks his teeth. You realize just how on edge he is about this. He was so comfortable the night it happened. Almost careless. Irritated at how anxious you were. Now, it’s like he’s spiraling.

“I won’t let this ruin my life,” Rafe mumbles. He huffs an unamused chuckle, looking out of the driver’s side window. “I’m not going to jail. I’m not…”

He trails into silence. You stare at his profile. The coldness you’ve always seen in him has been shadowed by a deep paranoia.

“I’m freaked out, too,” you admit. He looks at you again. “But this is only going to work if we trust each other. We need to stick to our story so well that even we start to believe it.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with skepticism, a wrinkle between his brows.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about screwing me over, Pogue,” he says. “You could say I did it and scared you into staying quiet.”

“Are you that paranoid?” you ask. “I won’t go behind your back. I promise. Even if it’s just a cover-up, we need to act like we’re friends now.”

Rafe gives you a once-over, the hardness in his face slowly fading.

“And don’t call me that,” you say. “You know my name.”

He breathes a real chuckle this time. Despite your better judgement, your heart flutters now that you’ve earned a smile from him.

“You’ll take it to the grave?” he murmurs.

“I will. You, too?”

“Yeah,” he says. He studies you again, realizing that you don’t have a guilty conscience at all. “You really don’t regret it.”

“No,” you state. The agony of reliving what Porter did to you hurts more than any sort of remorse you feel for taking his life.

Rafe is surprised to hear you don’t wish you could take what you did back. You’re as cold-blooded as he is. You might be the only person who comes close to understanding what it’s like being controlled by anger this intense.

“I just hate how I can’t stop thinking about if we left any evidence,” you say.

“Yeah.” He settles back, adjusting in his seat with ease, the tension between you dissipating. “We were rushed.”

You nod as you chew on your lip.

“At least nobody saw us,” you say. “And if the cops check our phones, they won’t find anything.”

“Good thinking to turn them off.”

Your face creases in surprise.

“What?” he says.

“Just throws me off when you’re not an asshole.”

He scoffs, his jaw tensing. But beneath the irritation, he wishes he could undo the way he’d spoken to you when you first got in the car.

It’s like his mind is speaking a different language to him when he feels any sort of shame. He usually tries to shut it up. When he looks at you again, he decides not to.

“I didn’t mean to… threaten you,” Rafe mumbles.

“Yeah, you did,” you say with a humorless laugh. “But I’m on your side here. Don’t forget that.”

You check your phone. You have plans to hang out with the guys after work and after what you put them through a few nights ago, you’d rather not leave them hanging again.

“I should go,” you say. “My friends are waiting on me.”

“Did you tell them the truth?”

“No,” you say. “This stays between you and me only. Trust me.”

Rafe stares at you, longer than he ever has before. It’s not anger in his face. Not worry, either. It’s something new. Vulnerability.

“I don’t trust anybody,” he says.

Your lips twitch into a frown. Even though this is a man who’s relentlessly teased you for your place in the classist system he seems to worship, your heart twinges in sympathy.

“Nobody?” you ask quietly.

He looks out the window again, tense and distant. He doesn’t say anything else.

“I have your back,” you reiterate to him. “To the grave, right?”

“Yeah,” he offers, not looking at you again. You exit his car, the confusing knot in your chest only tighter now.

·········

The police start knocking on doors a day later. When they come to yours, you do your best impression of a clueless nobody who just wants to help.

The lead on the case introduces himself as Detective Brading, settling in your living room like he’s been here before. He’s so confident that it’s intimidating. You can imagine Porter’s wealthy family are doing everything they can to find out what happened. The man staring at you is likely the best of the best.

You’ve rehearsed your story so many times that it feels natural. The two men nod along as you lie to them about how you’d fallen asleep in the bedroom, how you’d woken up to him and Rafe arguing, how you convinced Rafe to leave with you.

Your parents stand close by, arms crossed. This is the most they’ve heard you speak in a long time. They hardly ever ask you anything about your life, so it feels odd to have their attention.

“We think you two might have been the last people to see him before he went missing,” Brading tells you. “Porter didn’t say anything about going anywhere?”

“No,” you answer. “Rafe and I left pretty quickly.”

The detective looks up at your parents with raised brows, asking them to give you a moment. When they leave, he leans a little closer.

“We know he dealt drugs,” he murmurs. “And we know you bought from him. We’re not interested in getting anyone in trouble for that. We just want to know what happened to Porter. Is there anything you didn’t mention about that night in front of your parents? Be honest.”

“I fell asleep because I smoked too much pot,” you say quietly, looking back through the doorway your parents left through. It’s taking everything in you not to cry as you think about why you really lost consciousness in that room. “But I only ever bought that from him. He offered other things. Like cocaine. It’s why he and Rafe argued.”

It’s what you agreed on saying, but it still feels like you’re selling Rafe out. It’d be suspicious if you didn’t tell them this version of the truth, though.

The detective nods, clearly having been told this already. Your chest twists in unease as you think about Rafe’s name in everyone’s mouth, leading the cops to him. And possibly to you.

“How close are you to Rafe?”

“We've been talking more since I started my job at the country club,” you say. “We started hanging out a little bit ago. We’re friends.”

“Do you think he would’ve done anything to Porter?” Brading asks.

You meet his eyes, swallowing hard.

“No,” you say resolutely. “I don’t.”

·········

A man is missing and possibly, at this point, presumed dead. But that doesn’t stop Kooks from wanting to party.

You’re in the passenger seat as JJ drives to the north side of the island while John B and Pope talk in the back. You’re gazing out the window, watching the landscape go from dilapidated front yards to gated communities.

You’re heading to a party that you heard about from one of Porter’s friends and the way the police questioned you earlier today is spinning in your head.

“You good?” JJ asks.

You look over at your friend, flattening your lips together. You can never tell the whole truth, but you can offer bits and pieces.

“The cops told me they think I’m the last person who saw Porter before he disappeared,” you say. You can’t bring yourself to tell them the version of the story that includes Rafe yet. They’d never believe you. They’d judge you. “It’s kind of scary to think about.”

“My money’s on that he went on a bender,” JJ says. “Sampled his own product. Maybe even too much of it.”

“You think he overdosed?” you ask.

“More like Rafe offed him,” Pope chimes in.

“Is that what people are saying?” you ask, blood cold, turning back to look at him.

“It’s what I’m saying,” he answers. “The guy’s unhinged.”

You want to defend Rafe. To say he wouldn’t go that far. But it’d be suspicious. And a complete lie.

“It’s a small island,” John B says. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out what happened.”

You hope that’s not true.

·········

You make it to the house, reminding yourself over and over that you have to live as if you believe your own lie. You want to erase that night from your memory. Erase what Porter did to you.

You chug the first drink you can get your hands on. Your friends rib you for how quickly you down it. You blame it on a rough day at work.

Soon after, you’re at the keg, not even close to buzzed yet, but desperately needing to be. Discussing Porter with the cops today, pretending like he was just a dealer you had a few short conversations with, hearing that his family is concerned for his wellbeing made your pulse spike.

Does his family know what a monster he is?

You have to correct yourself.

Was.

“Slow down,” you hear.

Rafe towers over you, his eyes on your cup.

“What?” you shout over the music and conversations surrounding you.

“You’re on your second drink already.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure your friends don’t see you talking with him.

“I don’t even feel anything,” you reply sharply.

It’s a half-truth. Your sadness and anger are weighing heavy on your soul. That vile man took away your power, but you took it back, so you hate that you’re still so rattled by what he did. You just want peace.

“And why are you keeping tabs on me?” you ask.

Rafe stares at you, his lips just slightly parted. He can lie and say he wants to make sure you’re not setting yourself up to get hammered and potentially admit to someone what you did.

But the truth is he can’t stop thinking about you. And he doesn’t like seeing that look on your face, sad and absentminded.

He knows you hate him. He wishes he could hate you back.

“I need to be sure you’re not a liability,” he lies. “And people think we’re friends now, don’t they?”

You look over your shoulder again, anxious the guys will see you. You need privacy if you’re going to continue this conversation.

“Come on,” you say, dipping your hand in his, dragging him through the crowd. His palm is warm and soft and you don’t know what you were expecting, but the way Rafe feels is the opposite of it.

You open the first door you see, stepping into a narrow closet. You shut the door and switch on a light and suddenly he’s standing right over you, all breadth and intimidation.

Your heart races from the way you’d just touched him, from the way he’s just about pressed up against you right now. Something must be short-circuiting in your brain, because the fear you used to hold for him is entirely gone.

The attraction you’ve always felt is overpowering now. You can’t make sense of your own emotions.

“I haven’t told my friends our story,” you confess.

“What?” Rafe snips, his tone low.

“I can’t handle telling them right now, okay?” you say. You cross your arms. “I just said I was with a guy. Telling them that guy was you is… They’ll be so disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed,” he repeats with a scoff.

“Rafe, think back to every encounter you’ve had with us. All you’ve ever done is insult us. I don’t even want to think about how hurt they’ll be to hear I’m friends with you.”

“Who gives a fuck?” he mutters. “We need to make sure our alibi is solid. If the cops find out your friends don’t know we–”

“I’d tell the truth,” you say. “That I was worried about what they’d think.”

“I can’t believe you.” The thought of you being concerned about someone else’s opinion is ridiculous. “Why do you care so much?”

“They’re the only family I have,” you admit. It comes out before you even realize it. You look down, sighing. “You don’t get it. You’re like… an enemy to us. They know how shitty you treat me when I’m at work. Telling them–“

“How the hell do I treat you shitty?” he interrupts.

“I know that those tips are all a degrading show of how you’re so much richer and better than me,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then? Charity?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Charity isn’t the right word. He hides behind a forced ego, but he’s always wanted you. And through excessive tips and constant teasing, at least he can talk to you without risking the chance of you rejecting him.

You have him all wrong. He doesn’t think he’s better than you. He’s afraid you’re better than him.

“I’ll tell my friends, okay?” you say when he doesn’t speak. “But I talked to the cops today and they seemed convinced. We’ll be fine.”

“They talked to me, too. I can tell they think it was me.” There’s an almost imperceptible tremble in Rafe's voice. “Everyone thinks it was me.”

“Even your friends?”

“Yeah,” he says. If he can even call them friends. Hearing you call yours family made his jealousy flare. Envy is all Rafe ever feels. Like he’s missing the one thing that deems everyone else loveable.

But he’s hanging on how you said they’re your only family. He doesn’t have a family, either. Not really. Not one that cares about him. Maybe you understand him more than he thought.

“Well…” You clear your throat. “They can believe what they want. You can trust me that I won’t ever tell anyone what really happened.”

“Why?” he finally asks. “Why not just snitch on me, Pogue?”

“Because that night, I told you to do it and you did. The world is a better place without him in it. You did me a favor.” You uncross your arms. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Rafe clears his throat, giving in, remembering how you’d saved his life and offering a quiet sorry before he says your name.

It’s the gentlest you’ve ever seen him. It’s a shock to your system. You search his blue eyes in the dim of the closet as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make a snide joke.

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his breaths shallow, and you rethink everything you thought you knew about him.

He’s violent and aggressive and condescending. But you don’t see that right now. You see a man who doesn’t seem to be able to believe that someone would want to protect him. Is that who he is behind all the bravado?

The world continues to turn on the other side of the door, music blasting, bass rattling, but time has stopped between you. He’s looking at you through low lids. Like he wants you.

You shouldn’t. Shit is already complicated enough. But what’s one more tangle in the string tying you together?

Your fingers are at the collar of his button-up, pulling him towards you, lips meeting with abandon.

Rafe kisses you back immediately, hungrily leaning into you, cupping your face. His heart is racing. He doesn’t know how or why this is happening, but he wants it so bad that it hurts.

Your mouths part and finally, you taste him against your tongue. It feels so right, like you were always meant to do this and were both too stubborn to.

His hands press tighter against your jaw. Fear floods you. You’re back in that bedroom. You pull back.

“Not so hard,” you say.

“Okay,” he whispers, his grip loosening. He stays hovering over you, nose nudging yours. “Just… please…”

You nod, tilting your head to kiss him again, his hunger for you palpable. You’re with Rafe again, not in that bedroom, but here with a man you want who listens to your wishes.

Your head is swimming with bliss as he kisses you, smelling like cologne and desire, every piece of you wanting him. Then, his hands drift down over the curves of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

And it’s too much. You’re back there again. Begging for it to stop.

“No,” you snap, both hands roughly pushing his chest.

Rafe hits the shelves behind him, his head radiating in pain from how hard he smacked against the wood.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. He was just living in a dream. Why the hell are you pulling him out of it?

“No,” you repeat breathlessly. “You can’t touch me like that.”

“Okay,” he groans. “I won’t. Jesus.”

He clutches the back of his head, wincing.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your throat raw. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

“Why’d you even kiss me?” he says. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. You step towards him, trying to meet his eyes. “You can’t… I need you to ask before you touch me like that.”

His lips are glossy from the kiss, his face pinched in pain. You take a risk, gently placing your hands on his cheeks.

Rafe should be angry at you. But goddamn it, your touch feels so good that he melts. His gaze is heavy on yours, both of you breathing deeply, coming down from the sudden outburst.

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat softly. “Just don’t take me by surprise. I can’t handle it.”

Rafe searches your face, silently asking for an explanation.

You shake your head, not having it in you to answer right now. Your goal tonight was to forget. Not relive. You pull him closer, and thankfully, he lets you.

Your lips are tender after you part, having lost count of how long you’ve been kissing.

Things just got so much more complicated. But you wouldn’t take it back. Not for a second. Nothing else makes sense right now, but having Rafe the way you always secretly wanted him is the one thing that does.

“Don’t fuck me over,” he says, a note of cynicism in his tone as his forehead brushes against yours. “No matter what happens, don’t fuck me over.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

·········

The next morning, you’re walking through the club hall towards the golf course to start your shift. You still can’t get the way Rafe’s mouth felt against yours out of your mind.

He kissed you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages. Like he felt lucky that he got to.

You’re about to step through the glass doors leading outside, but the sound of your name makes ice go through your veins. You know that gravelly voice.

You turn to see Detective Brading, his stare intimidating.

“You have a minute to talk?” he says.

You can tell by his tone that it isn’t a question.

to be continued

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[faithshouseofchaos]

Oscar piastri x Webber!fem!reader

Word count— 5870

@0rrphiic - this one is for you I’m finally getting around to it

Summary — Oscar developed feelings for his mentors oldest daughter and will do anything for her attention.

Requested — yes

Warnings — reader is older than Oscar by two years 23/25, Oscar being desperate for the reader’s attention, fluff,

————————————————————————

Oscar Piastri had never been great at hiding his feelings, but he was getting much better at pretending. Or at least, that’s what he told himself whenever he found himself blushing or stammering around Mark Webber’s eldest daughter, Y/N.

Y/N was everything Oscar wasn’t—confident, quick-witted, and effortlessly charming. At twenty-five , she carried herself with an ease that made everyone around her feel comfortable—except for Oscar. She was three years older than him, and even though they had known each other for a while through family gatherings and the racing world, he still hadn’t quite figured out how to act around her.

They had become friends, or at least, that’s what Oscar told himself. They spent time together at the track, had coffee during breaks, and shared occasional laughs at dinner. But it was clear to him that he was in much deeper waters than Y/N realized. Every time her laughter echoed across a room, or her eyes lingered on him just a second too long, Oscar’s heart raced in a way he couldn’t control.

Y/N was effortlessly kind, but Oscar couldn’t shake the feeling that he was different when he was around her. His usual composed demeanor faltered. He was desperate for her attention, but he couldn’t bring himself to confess what he felt. She was too perfect, too out of his league, or so he thought.

It was a late evening at the Monaco Grand Prix, and the team had gathered for a quiet dinner after a long day of racing. The grand dining room was bustling with low conversations and the clinking of glasses, but Oscar couldn’t focus on anything but the empty seat next to Y/N at the table. He’d been hoping she would sit next to him, but of course, she ended up beside Mark, her dad. It was hard to compete with a legend.

Oscar was doing his best to follow the conversation, but it felt like his mind was elsewhere. Every few minutes, his gaze would drift over to where Y/N sat. She was relaxed, casual in a deep blue dress that highlighted her effortless beauty, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. She smiled as Mark animatedly told a story from his racing days, and her laugh—light and genuine—made his stomach do a flip.

As she caught his eye, a soft smile tugged at her lips. “Oscar,” she called, her voice warm but teasing. “You’re looking a little distracted there. Something on your mind?”

Oscar’s heart skipped a beat. Was she talking to him? He quickly tore his eyes away, not wanting to get caught staring, but it was too late. “Uh, no,” he stammered, suddenly feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “Just… thinking about the race tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying his excuse. She glanced around, her gaze shifting to the other drivers before locking back on him. “You know, you’re not very good at hiding when you’re nervous, Piastri.”

Oscar felt his throat tighten. His mouth went dry. “I’m not nervous,” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m fine. Totally fine.”

She smirked, the corner of her lips quirking up in that playful, knowing way that sent his mind racing. “Sure,” she said with a mock-serious tone, “if you say so.”

The teasing was gentle, but Oscar couldn’t shake the feeling that she was deliberately picking on him. It wasn’t cruel—just playful. Still, every comment made him more aware of his own discomfort, his growing crush that he didn’t know how to hide.

Before he could formulate a response, Y/N turned her attention back to Mark, who was laughing about some past racing mishap. Oscar was left to fidget with his napkin, his mind trying to replay every moment of that exchange. Why did he always seem to make a fool of himself when she was around?

At least she seemed to enjoy it.

Later, as the conversation lulled and the group began to break off into smaller clusters, Y/N shifted in her seat and turned to Oscar. “You look like you need to breathe,” she said with a soft laugh. “Come for a walk with me?”

Oscar’s heart skipped, and for a moment, he almost choked on his words. “I—I’d like that,” he managed to say, suddenly wishing he could be more composed.

They wandered outside, away from the noise of the restaurant and onto the quiet streets of Monaco, the evening air cool against their skin. Y/N fell into an easy rhythm, chatting about the city and pointing out little places she liked, but Oscar couldn’t focus on anything other than the proximity between them. It felt like a moment of calm after all the racing chaos, but it also felt like the quiet before a storm.

“So,” Y/N started, after a comfortable silence settled between them, “what’s really going on in that head of yours? You’ve been off all night.”

Oscar swallowed. “I’m just… tired, I guess. Long day, you know?” He wasn’t sure what else to say. His mind was spinning in circles, but every time he looked at her, the words evaporated.

Y/N gave him a soft, knowing smile, as if she could see right through him. “Oscar, you’re the worst liar I know. But, I guess I’ll let you off the hook this time. Just know, you don’t have to act like you have it all figured out all the time.”

Oscar’s chest tightened. He nodded slowly, but inside, his thoughts were loud. He wanted to tell her how much he appreciated her friendship, how much he longed for something more. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not yet.

They continued walking, the city lights casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets. And as much as he wanted to let go, to tell her how he felt, all Oscar could do was try to keep up, both in the conversation and in his own heart. But with every laugh, every teasing comment, and every shared glance, it was becoming harder and harder to deny—he was falling for her, and he had no idea what to do about it.

Oscar Piastri was not one to back down from a challenge, but when it came to Y/N, he was starting to realize that his usual strategy of keeping his emotions in check wasn’t going to work. The more time he spent around her, the more impossible it became to hide his feelings. He tried. He really did. But every time she smiled, every time she laughed at one of his half-jokes, it felt like his heart was about to explode out of his chest.

He’d tried distracting himself. Focus on the race. Focus on the team. It was the Monaco Grand Prix, after all. One of the biggest races of the season. But there she was, again, sitting at the table next to him in the paddock, laughing with Mark about something from his racing days. Oscar couldn’t stop glancing over at her. It was embarrassing how often his gaze wandered toward her. She noticed, of course. And, of course, she teased him about it.

“So, Piastri,” Y/N said with that teasing glint in her eyes, “I caught you looking at me again. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Oscar felt a surge of heat rise to his face. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. “Uh, I wasn’t— I mean, I wasn’t looking. I was just… thinking,” he stammered, hoping it sounded convincing.

“Right.” Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Thinking about what, exactly?”

Oscar opened his mouth, about to make an excuse, when Mark chimed in, cutting him off. “Come on, you two,” Mark said, laughing. “You can’t both act like you’re not secretly into racing gossip. You know I’m the best source in the paddock.”

Oscar tried to smile, but he was still flustered from the previous exchange. “Of course, Mark,” he said, focusing on the conversation, but his thoughts kept circling back to Y/N. He needed to get a grip.

Later that evening, they were outside the team’s hospitality, watching the sunset over Monaco’s winding streets. The day had been long, and the tension from the race still hung in the air, but for once, Oscar felt a little more at ease. Y/N had invited him for a walk, just like they had done a few days ago.

They stood side by side, their footsteps light on the cobblestones as they talked about everything and nothing at all. Y/N’s laugh still echoed in his ears, and the way her hair fluttered in the evening breeze made his heart race. Oscar was tired of this. Tired of pretending. Tired of being the friend when all he could think about was the girl standing next to him.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, actually,” Oscar said, his voice quiet, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep them from trembling. “I’ve been thinking… a lot… about things.”

Y/N glanced at him, her curiosity piqued. “What’s on your mind, Piastri?”

Oscar hesitated. This was it. The moment where he could finally say it, tell her everything that had been building up in his chest for months. The moment to confess how he felt.

“I… I’ve just been…” He started, but his words caught in his throat. His thoughts were a jumbled mess, and his nerves were making it impossible to speak clearly. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could finish, a loud shout interrupted him. “Oi, Oscar! You coming or what?”

It was Lando, jogging over with a grin plastered across his face. Oscar cursed under his breath as Lando stopped in front of them, completely oblivious to the moment that had just been shattered.

“Lando,” Oscar said through gritted teeth, “what’s up?”

Lando, sensing something was off, gave him a questioning look but shrugged it off. “Just wanted to check in before we head back. You’re not bailing on us, right?”

Oscar glanced at Y/N, frustration bubbling up inside him. He was so close, so close to telling her how he felt, and now here was Lando, ruining it like always.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Oscar said, forcing a smile as he turned back to Y/N. “Sorry, I’ll catch up with you.”

“No worries.” Y/N smiled, though there was a hint of something in her eyes that Oscar couldn’t quite place. She stepped back slightly, her hand brushing against his in the process. “You go have fun. I’ll see you later.”

Oscar watched her walk away, a sinking feeling in his stomach. He cursed himself for not being able to find the right words, and worse, for allowing Lando to spoil it. His feelings for Y/N were only getting stronger, but it was becoming increasingly clear that every time he tried to confess, something always got in the way.

The next day, Oscar couldn’t shake the feeling of failure. As he prepared for the race, his thoughts kept drifting back to Y/N. The way she looked at him. The way she smiled when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. Did she know? Was she waiting for him to say something? Or was she just being friendly?

After the race, Oscar found himself standing on the pit wall, trying to calm his racing heart from the adrenaline of finishing the day. His mind was still on Y/N, and he couldn’t help but glance around the paddock for her. When he finally spotted her, standing with Mark by the barriers, he felt a mixture of relief and nerves.

“Hey, Oscar!” Y/N’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to see her walking toward him, that same friendly smile on her face. “Great race today.”

Oscar grinned, though he was still flustered from the conversation that never happened the night before. “Thanks, Y/N. You were watching?”

“Of course.” She gave him a playful nudge. “You didn’t think I’d miss it, did you?”

His heart skipped. “Well, it’s Monaco. Big race. You know… lots of distractions.” He couldn’t stop himself from rambling, his words tumbling out faster than he intended.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure the only distraction here is you, Piastri.” She winked, her teasing tone making him blush harder.

That was it. Oscar had reached his breaking point. He had to tell her. This was the moment.

“Y/N, I—”

But before he could finish, a voice interrupted them again.

“Oscar! We’re heading out for drinks. You in?”

It was Lando, once again, barging into the conversation without a second thought.

Oscar’s shoulders slumped, defeated. “Yeah, sure. I’ll catch up.” He turned back to Y/N, giving her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I—I need to go.”

“No worries,” Y/N said, though her smile seemed a little distant this time. “I’ll see you around, Piastri.”

As Oscar walked away, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his last chance to tell her how he felt. But once again, it slipped through his fingers, lost to the chaos that seemed to follow him around.

Oscar couldn’t escape the feeling that time was slipping away from him. Every moment he spent with Y/N was a fleeting chance to finally say what he had been holding back for so long. But each time he tried, something—or someone—stopped him. It wasn’t just Lando or bad timing; it was his own fear, the overwhelming pressure to get it right.

The more he saw Y/N, the more confused he became. She was kind, funny, and effortlessly beautiful, and every time their eyes met, Oscar felt a spark that left him breathless. But he couldn’t make sense of it. Were they friends? Was it something more? He couldn’t bring himself to find out.

It had been a week since Monaco, and the tension between them only seemed to grow. The awkward moments had become more frequent, as Oscar tried harder to suppress his feelings, but the frustration was building. He could barely concentrate during meetings, and every time Y/N passed him in the paddock, his heart would skip.

One afternoon, after a particularly grueling practice session, Oscar found himself walking toward the team’s garage when he saw Y/N sitting on the steps outside. She was looking down at her phone, her brow furrowed in concentration, her fingers scrolling slowly. It was a rare quiet moment, and Oscar couldn’t resist walking over.

“Hey,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N looked up, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “Oh, hey! How was the session?” she asked, giving him that warm smile that made his stomach twist in knots.

“It was alright,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Tiring. But, you know, what else is new?”

She laughed softly, a sound that always seemed to melt him. “Yeah, racing. It’s like a never-ending marathon.” She patted the space beside her on the steps. “Come sit with me for a bit. You look like you need a break.”

Oscar hesitated. He wanted to sit with her, wanted to be near her, but the closer he got, the harder it became to control the whirlwind of emotions inside him. Still, he took a deep breath and sat next to her, trying to act casual.

They fell into easy conversation, but Oscar was distracted. Every time Y/N’s laughter rang out, every time her gaze lingered on him, he felt like he was about to crack. His mind was screaming at him to just tell her how he felt, but the words got tangled in his throat.

“So,” Y/N began, tilting her head slightly, her eyes studying him with a curious glint. “You’ve been a little… off lately. Something bothering you?”

Oscar swallowed hard, staring at the ground in an attempt to avoid her piercing gaze. He opened his mouth to brush it off, but something inside him snapped.

“Actually,” he started, his voice shaking slightly, “yeah, there is something. There’s… something I’ve been meaning to say to you.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and for a moment, Oscar thought maybe—just maybe—this was the moment he could get it all out. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“I just— I really like spending time with you, Y/N. I… I’ve felt like this for a while now, and I don’t know how to explain it.” He paused, his heart racing. “I’ve been trying to figure out what it is between us, and I think…” His words faltered. Was he really about to say it? The confession that had been burning inside him for months?

Before he could finish, a loud voice cut through the quiet.

“Oscar! There you are! Mark’s looking for you.”

It was Lando, again. Oscar’s face dropped, and he could feel the frustration building in his chest. He turned to look at Y/N, but her expression had shifted. She was smiling, but it was distant now.

“Go ahead,” she said softly, her voice a little more guarded than before. “I’m sure you’ve got work to do.”

Oscar opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. He wanted to explain, to apologize for getting so caught up in the moment. But instead, he stood up quickly, his heart sinking in his chest.

“Sorry,” he muttered, forcing a smile as he looked at her one last time. “I’ll talk to you later.”

He didn’t wait for her response, didn’t even look back as he walked toward Lando, who was still jabbering away about something that, in the moment, felt entirely irrelevant.

As they walked toward the garage, Oscar’s mind was racing. He had come so close, but once again, his confession had been spoiled. The frustration felt like a weight pressing down on him. He couldn’t understand why everything kept falling apart when it came to Y/N.

Later that evening, after the team debrief, Oscar was left alone in the quiet garage, staring at his helmet on the workbench. His fingers brushed over it absently, his thoughts still on Y/N. It wasn’t just the missed confession; it was the way he felt when he was around her. He wanted to believe that there was something more, something real, but the constant interruptions were starting to wear him down.

He couldn’t keep running from his feelings. He needed to figure out if Y/N felt the same way—or if he was simply setting himself up for disappointment.

Oscar’s fingers tightened around the edge of the workbench, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him. Was he just another one of her friends? Or could there be something more, something he had been too afraid to see?

Oscar Piastri was unraveling. It was as if every smile Y/N gave him, every teasing quip she threw his way, tightened the knot in his chest. He had never wanted anything—or anyone—so badly in his life. Racing was his whole world, but lately, she had taken up permanent residence in his thoughts, eclipsing everything else.

Every moment they spent together was a bittersweet torture. He could be sitting across from her in the team lounge, surrounded by people, and still feel like the only thing that mattered was the way her lips curved when she smiled. Yet every time he tried to get closer, he stumbled. Words failed him. Timing failed him. His courage failed him.

Today was no different.

The team had wrapped up a meeting, and most people were filtering out. Y/N lingered near the catering table, a cup of coffee in hand. Oscar had been hovering nearby, pretending to be interested in a plate of pastries just so he could steal a few glances. He didn’t even like pastries.

She caught him looking—again—and raised an eyebrow. “You know, Piastri, you’re terrible at being sneaky.”

Oscar felt his face heat up. He fumbled with the plate in his hand, nearly dropping it. “What? No, I wasn’t— I mean, I’m just… hungry.”

Y/N smirked, leaning against the counter. “Sure you are.”

There it was again, that playful glint in her eyes that made his stomach flip. He should say something witty, something that would make her laugh, but all he could do was stand there, frozen under her gaze.

She tilted her head, studying him. “You’ve been acting weird lately. You know that, right?”

“Weird? Me?” Oscar forced a laugh, but it came out strained. “I’m not acting weird. You’re weird.”

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “Great comeback, Piastri.”

She turned back to her coffee, and Oscar let out a quiet sigh of relief. But as she moved to leave, he panicked. He couldn’t let her walk away—not again.

“Wait,” he blurted out, stepping toward her. “Y/N, I—”

“What’s up?” she asked, her tone softening as she turned back to face him.

Oscar opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. His pulse was pounding in his ears, and his palms were sweaty. He couldn’t just blurt it out, not here, not like this. Instead, he shook his head, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “It’s nothing.”

Y/N frowned, her brows knitting together. For a moment, it looked like she was about to press him, but then her phone buzzed in her pocket. She glanced at the screen and sighed. “I’ve gotta go. My dad’s looking for me.”

Oscar nodded, watching as she walked away. His chest ached with the weight of everything he couldn’t say. He wanted to scream at himself, to grab her hand and tell her to stay, but he just stood there, frozen in place.

That evening, Oscar sat alone in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound, but his thoughts were deafening. He replayed every moment with Y/N, every near-confession, every time he’d chickened out. It was driving him mad.

He grabbed his phone, scrolling through his messages. Her name was right at the top. They texted often—casual conversations about racing, movies, music. But as he stared at the empty text box, he realized he had no idea what to say. Everything felt too big, too loaded.

Just tell her, he thought, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. Tell her how you feel.

But what if she didn’t feel the same way? What if he ruined everything? What if she laughed, or worse, pitied him?

His phone buzzed suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was a message from her.

Y/N: You okay? You seemed a little off earlier.

Oscar’s heart raced as he read the message. She noticed. She always noticed. But what could he say? That he was “off” because he was hopelessly in love with her? That every time she smiled at him, it felt like the ground shifted beneath his feet?

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, and before he could stop himself, he typed:

Oscar: Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.

He stared at the message for a second, then deleted it.

Oscar: I need to tell you something.

His finger hovered over the send button. This was it. He could finally tell her. But before he could send the message, another text popped up.

Y/N: Never mind, I just remembered something. Let’s talk tomorrow. Goodnight, Piastri :)

Oscar groaned, tossing his phone onto the bed. He flopped back onto the pillows, staring at the ceiling again. It felt like the universe was playing some cruel joke on him, throwing roadblock after roadblock in his path.

The next day, the team had organized a press event, and Y/N was there, as always, chatting with the drivers and media personnel like she belonged there. Oscar couldn’t stop watching her, couldn’t stop wondering what it would feel like to hold her hand, to kiss her, to just be with her.

“You’re staring again,” Lando muttered, nudging him in the ribs. “You’re so obvious it’s painful.”

“Shut up,” Oscar hissed, glaring at his teammate.

“I’m just saying,” Lando continued, smirking. “If you don’t do something soon, someone else will.”

Oscar stiffened at the thought. The idea of someone else swooping in, stealing her away, was enough to make his stomach churn. He clenched his fists, determination flickering in his chest. Lando was right. He couldn’t keep waiting for the perfect moment—it didn’t exist.

But even as he resolved to finally confess, he couldn’t shake the doubt creeping in. What if he was too late? What if she didn’t feel the same way?

Oscar’s eyes found her across the room, laughing at something Carlos had said. She looked so effortlessly beautiful, so completely out of his league. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Desperate didn’t even begin to cover it. He was completely, utterly lost in her.

Y/N didn’t miss much. Growing up in a family where motorsport was the centerpiece of every conversation, she had learned to read people the same way her dad read data—intensely and accurately. And lately, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off with Oscar.

He’d always been reserved, more comfortable analyzing data than socializing, but now he seemed downright jumpy around her. The quiet confidence she’d admired since they’d first met had been replaced with nervous stammering and lingering looks that he thought she didn’t notice.

She noticed.

Sitting at the edge of the paddock, sipping her coffee, she replayed the events of the past few weeks. The aborted conversations, the way his gaze would drop to the ground every time she caught him staring, the moments he seemed like he was on the verge of saying something important only to backtrack at the last second. It was sweet, endearing even, but it left her wondering.

“Do I intimidate him?” she mumbled to herself, swirling the remnants of her coffee.

She’d never thought of herself as intimidating, but she knew what it was like to be under pressure in this world. Her father’s legacy cast a long shadow, and Oscar—despite his undeniable talent—was still finding his place. She wondered if she was part of that pressure.

And yet, when he smiled, that boyish grin that lit up his entire face, she saw the person underneath the weight of expectations. She liked that version of him, the one who teased her about her horrible taste in music or stole her snacks when he thought she wasn’t looking.

But lately, those moments had been overshadowed by something… heavier. Something unsaid.

The next week, Oscar reached his limit.

It happened at the tail end of the Silverstone race weekend. After a chaotic qualifying session and a race that left him with a respectable but frustrating P7 finish, Oscar was drained. But it wasn’t the race that was eating at him—it was her.

She’d been there all weekend, as always, her laughter echoing through the garage, her presence a constant, maddening distraction. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t breathe when she was near. And now, watching her across the paddock talking to Lando, her hand playfully swatting his arm as they joked about something, Oscar felt like he was going to implode.

He’d had enough. Enough of the near-confessions, the sleepless nights, the endless what-ifs.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he was moving, weaving through the throng of media and team personnel until he was standing in front of her.

“Y/N, can we talk?” His voice was steadier than he felt, but his eyes betrayed his desperation.

She blinked up at him, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. “Uh, yeah, sure.” She glanced at Lando, who raised an eyebrow but stepped aside with a knowing smirk.

Oscar led her away from the crowd, his hands fidgeting at his sides. When they finally stopped near a quiet corner of the paddock, he turned to face her.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them.

Y/N tilted her head, her brows knitting together in confusion. “Doing what?”

“This!” He gestured vaguely between them, his frustration boiling over. “Pretending like everything’s normal when it’s not. Acting like I’m fine when I’m not.”

She stared at him, her lips parting as if to respond, but he pressed on.

“I like you, Y/N,” he blurted out, his voice raw and unsteady. “I’ve liked you for a while now, and it’s driving me insane. Every time I try to tell you, something happens, and I—” He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. “I can’t keep pretending like I don’t feel this way. I just… I needed you to know.”

For a moment, there was only silence. Y/N’s eyes searched his face, her expression unreadable. Oscar’s heart pounded in his chest, each second stretching into an eternity.

Then, finally, she spoke.

“Oscar…” Her voice was soft, careful. “I—”

“Y/N! There you are!”

Both of them turned to see Mark striding toward them, a clipboard in hand. Oscar felt his stomach drop.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Mark said, oblivious to the tension hanging in the air, “but we need to head to the debrief. Y/N, you coming?”

She glanced between Oscar and her father, hesitation flickering in her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll— I’ll be there in a minute.”

Mark nodded, walking away, but the interruption had shattered whatever moment they’d been building.

Y/N turned back to Oscar, her face a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite place. “I should go,” she said softly, her voice almost apologetic.

Oscar nodded numbly, his chest aching. “Yeah… yeah, of course.”

As she walked away, he felt the weight of his confession settle over him. He’d finally said it, but it hadn’t gone the way he’d hoped. And now, he was left to wonder—had he made a mistake?

Oscar barely slept that night. The words he’d blurted out to Y/N replayed on an endless loop in his mind, each replay more agonizing than the last. He could still see her expression—soft, careful, but unreadable. And then she’d walked away.

He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. Part of him wanted to text her, to ask if they could talk, to beg her to say something, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. What if she was avoiding him? What if he’d ruined everything?

The next morning, he dragged himself to the paddock, dreading the thought of seeing her. He didn’t know how to act, didn’t know how to undo the mess he’d made.

But when he arrived, she was there, leaning against the Ferrari hospitality building, chatting with Carlos. She looked calm, collected—like nothing had happened. It was both a relief and a dagger to the chest.

“Hey, mate.” Lando appeared at his side, startling him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Not now, Lando,” Oscar muttered, his gaze fixed on Y/N.

Lando followed his line of sight and smirked. “Ah, still pining, I see.”

“I told her,” Oscar said quietly, his voice tinged with frustration.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “You what?”

“I told her how I feel.”

“And?”

Oscar shook his head, his jaw tightening. “She didn’t say anything. Mark showed up, and then she just… left.”

Lando let out a low whistle. “Ouch. So what’s the plan now?”

“There is no plan,” Oscar snapped. “I’ll just avoid her and hope this all blows over.”

Lando snorted. “Yeah, because that’s worked so well for you so far.”

Oscar shot him a glare, but deep down, he knew Lando was right. Avoiding her wouldn’t solve anything. Still, the thought of facing her again made his stomach churn.

Y/N had been replaying the moment, too. She’d been caught completely off guard by Oscar’s confession, and Mark’s interruption hadn’t helped. She’d spent the night staring at her ceiling, trying to make sense of her own feelings.

She liked Oscar—of course she did. He was sweet and funny and far more thoughtful than he gave himself credit for. But his sudden outburst had thrown her. She hadn’t expected him to feel that way about her.

Now, as she stood in the paddock, pretending to focus on her conversation with Carlos, her thoughts kept drifting back to Oscar. She’d seen him arrive earlier, his usual quiet confidence replaced by a nervous energy that tugged at her heart.

“Y/N,” Carlos said, pulling her from her thoughts. “You okay? You seem distracted.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she lied, forcing a smile.

Carlos didn’t look convinced, but before he could press her, she excused herself, her gaze darting toward the McLaren garage. She needed to talk to Oscar, to clear the air, but the thought of confronting him made her chest tighten. What if she said the wrong thing? What if she hurt him?

She spotted him near the back of the garage, staring intently at a data screen. For a moment, she hesitated, her feet rooted to the ground. But then she squared her shoulders and walked toward him.

“Oscar.”

He turned at the sound of her voice, his expression shifting from surprise to guardedness. “Y/N. Hi.”

“Can we talk?” she asked, her tone soft but firm.

He glanced around, as if looking for an escape route, but finally nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

They stepped outside, away from the bustle of the garage. Oscar shoved his hands into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the ground.

“About yesterday,” Y/N began, her voice tentative. “I—”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, his tone clipped. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

She frowned. “Oscar, I—”

“No, really.” He forced a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want things to be weird between us.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart twisting at the vulnerability in his voice. “Things aren’t weird,” she said gently. “But you didn’t even give me a chance to respond.”

Oscar blinked, his head snapping up to meet her gaze. “You mean…?”

“I mean, I wasn’t expecting it,” she admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I didn’t feel something.”

His breath hitched, hope flickering in his eyes. “You do?”

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. “I don’t know,” she said honestly. “I’ve never thought about us that way before. But… maybe I should have.”

Oscar’s shoulders sagged, a mix of relief and confusion washing over him. “So… what does that mean?”

“It means I need time to figure it out,” she said, stepping closer. “But I don’t want you to think it’s a no. I just need to… sort through things.”

Oscar nodded slowly, his heart still racing. “Okay. I can do that.”

“And, Oscar?” she added, her voice softening. “I care about you. A lot.”

A small smile tugged at his lips, the weight on his chest easing just a little. “That’s enough for now.”

As they stood there, the tension between them shifted, replaced by something more tentative but undeniably real. It wasn’t a confession, not in the way he’d imagined, but it was a start.

[pucksandpower]

Seeing a surprising (to me at least) amount of posts defending Franco being allowed to race the night after likely sustaining a concussion from a 50G crash because he “probably felt good enough to do so” and “wanted to get in the car himself” … and that’s a no from me for so many reasons.

If professional athletes had it their way, they would suffer through every single injury without taking any time away from the sport. Formula 1 drivers have raced with concussions and broken ribs. Hockey players have played through fractured sternums and punctured lungs. Gymnasts have actively ended their own careers by exacerbating injuries in competition.

This is why medical professionals have a duty to step in and set boundaries. There comes a time when an impartial third party needs to be able to do what is necessary for athletes’ health. Teams have agendas and motivations of their own. Athletes are under a tremendous amount of pressure to compete no matter what.

The medical team needs to act with athletes’ best interests in mind, even when it goes against the athletes desires.

So did Franco want to race in the Las Vegas Grand Prix? I have no doubt that he did. He’s young. He’s hungry. He currently doesn’t have a seat for next season. But that does not make the consequences of driving through head trauma any less severe.

So I hope that, going forward, there can be someone in the paddock who can make the hard choices in these situation. Because a race is never worth risking a driver’s life for.

[love44lew]

everywhere, as long as its with you

彡drivers franco colapinto

彡genre spanish speaking reader! x franco colapinto, fic/smau

彡summary your boyfriend became an f1 driver, now you travel the world with him

彡notes im still pretty new to making smaus so please excuse the lack of order ToT.. i was also thinking about turning this into like a mini series since i ended up liking the plot more than expected while wring. let me know what you guys think!! other than that, thank you for reading ♡︎

you’re sitting on the knitted hanging chair outside your boyfriends argentina home, the sunset view was always so beautiful from this view—especially because he lived in the mountains where you could see everything. theres not a place in the world you would rather be. with your digital camera you snap a photo of the sunset, the quality of the camera giving the view a nostalgic feel. you close your eyes and take in the breeze brushing past your skin.

———

yourusername

location: puerto iguazú, argentina

yourusername digital camera in 🇦🇷❣️

liked by francolapinto, mailiaamour, and 23.856 others

comments

francolapinto ahh taking pictures behind my back !?

yourusername @/francolapinto sorry baby 🤫❤️

———

then you hear loud heavy footsteps scurrying from inside the house, causing you to open your eyes open again, glance around, roll them and then close them again. you sat peacefully for a total of five seconds before a frantic franco screams your name from inside the house, causing you to wince at the sudden noice.

“come!! quickly!” franco rushed you into the house. the two of you sat at the dinner table, you still didnt know what was happening but franco was getting a phone call and his leg was bouncing anxiously. “que??” you questioned, he quickly shushed you as he picked up the phone. you rolled your eyes, why did he call you all the way here if he was just gonna want you to be quiet. but also if he did, it must be a really important call.

he put the phone on speaker and placed it down on the table.

“is this franco alejandro colapinto?” a calm soft voice spoke from the other line.

“yes, this is him” franco said in his best english he can muster.

“you are being summoned by williams to attend the british grand prix, you will be driving in fp1.” franco silently looked at you with complete and utter shock in his eyes.

“are you available to attend?” the person asked from the other line in contrary to francos silence.

he searched for reassurance in your eyes, you nodded your head at him pointing to the phone.

“uh.. y-yes!—mm” he cleared his throat “yes, i am” he rephrased in a more collected tone. he couldn’t believe this was happening, after everything he’d gone through—everything he’s sacrificed, everything his family sacrificed, to get to this point. he’d finally made it, even if it was just for fp1, it could possibly lead to him being in a seat one day. franco finished up the phone call, his composure holding on to a thread the whole time until he finally hung up.

immediately he stood up and scooped you into his arms. he tightly held you, taking in your scent and everything you are. he’d finally done it, and he couldn’t have without your help and encouragement. when times got tough, when it felt like he’d never make it, there you were to push him on and make him feel good about himself again. he genuinely doesn’t know what he’d do or where he’d be without you. he cupped your face, his lips clashing with yours into a passionate and loving kiss. the way he kisses you always sends tingles down your spine—the softness of his touches compared to the way his mouth moves against yours. you could feel how much he loves you in every kiss, touch, or words he speaks. his love for you is only in the purest form.

“té quiero, mi amor” his eyes gazed lovingly into yours as your lips detached from each other, his thumbs softly caressing your face, taking in every feature that he loved so dearly.

“im so so proud of you papasito” you wiped the incoming tears that dared to flow down his rosy cheeks. your heart has always been with him and his goals, to see him succeed like this—even if its as little as free practice, it was another door opened for your talented man.

“venga conmigo” franco proposed, the heat of the moment seeming like a perfect time. he couldnt just leave you behind, after everything you’ve done?? he’d want you to be there the most.

“wh- what!?? thats crazy!!” you halfheartedly giggled, only response you could muster from how insane his suggestion was.

“why not? you’re always there for everything else, why not be there for the most special moment? cmon.” his puppy dog eyes are ones you could bear to refuse, his cheeks and nose reddened from all the excitement and happiness he feels. so, you agreed to go. youre his rock in all this, his biggest supporter. why wouldnt he want his favorite cheerleader to go and continue to push him on? plus, youve never been to london.

———

yourusername’s story

liked by

francolapinto ♥︎

bsfsusername ♥︎

viewers: 6820

—

franco went on to place p11 in his first race after london, which you were extremely proud of him. to be so close to points in a backmarker team was, to say the least, impressive. you always knew he had it in him but for his first time ever racing as an f1 drivers against the other 19 best in the world? a blessed experience.

[angelicblondie]

popstar!reader x bodyguard!rafe ~~~ pre-award show ride 18 + MINORS DNI

the scent of tom fords tobacco vanilla and victoria secret tease wafted in the back of the limo, filling your nostrils with the sweetest fusion. kind of symbolic, you thought, of you and rafe - the perfect pair.

your heel tapped on the floor of the car as you sat poised in your seat, rafe sitting to your right, arms rested on the tinted window seal as he gazed out onto the streets.

your eyes flickered to him every so often, almost like you couldn't help it, almost like there was simply a magnetic pull - always has been with the two of you.

tonight was the VMAs, and unlike the very beginning of your carreer, award shows were a lot less daunting. you were up for a couple categories, and even thus far into your career you couldn't shake the pre-show nerves.

rafe looked over, noticing the tapping of your heel which he had come to realize as a nervous habit by now. "hey," he called out, "you good?"

you look over, fluttering your lashes a bit. "why? lookin' to make me better?"

rafe, used to your flirting by now, rolled his eyes with a breathy laugh. "jesus, kid, next time i wont ask."

you bit your lip, moving your leg over to nudge his. "sorry," you held back a giggle, yet you words were sincere. "m'good, just nerves."

he hummed in understanding, looking down as your legs before looking back out the window, his hand wordlessly coming down to grip above your knee, his thumb smoothing over the skin.

you swallowed, taking a breath and attempting to relax into your seat. it was crazy how one little touch from him sent your heart aflame, beating against your chest as warmness spread throughout you. rafe just had that affect on you.

sure, you played it cool - being charismatic was an essential part of your job, you were a master at it. but rafe....he was different. you covered it up by quick remarks and flirty liners, but deep down you both knew that what you two shared - the connection you - was a lot more than that.

a lot more than that time in your dressing room back on tour.

since then, you two had gone back to normal...in your own way. except this time, normal consisted of sly touches and longing looks. heated makeouts once in a blue moon (if your lucky), and knowing stares.

it was exciting, exhilarating, even. you felt in control, even though you had never really felt more helpless. but really, it made sense - everything else in your life was hardly your decision. you didn't get to pick the tour dates, you didn't get to pick which cities, which stadiums. you don't get to pick what events you go to, or when the album deadline is, or who your paired up with on PR dates - thats the managments choice, not yours. a lot of the time, it feels likes your life isnt yours.

but when your with rafe...that all changes.

you could hear the faint sound of classical music that the driver mustve been playing, muffled by the closed divider. the silence between you and rafe was comfortable, his thumb continuing to rub your skin as you tried to pull your eyes away from the contact.

after a moment, rafe speaks up. "when we get there, walk straight to the carpet. take a couple photos, answer a couple questions from reporters, and meet us on the other side."

you sigh softly, rolling your eyes. "i know, i know. its the same every time, rafey," you say, faux annoyed.

He hums, squeezing your leg. "just lookin' out f'you," he grumbles, turning away.

you giggle under your breath, seeing his frustration. you reach over to his leg teasingly, squeezing his lower thigh. "aw, c'mon, m'sorry," you mumble, as he looks back, scoffing out a laugh. "whatever, kid. feeling less nervous?"

your heart beat faster against your chest at your now closer proximity. whilst you certainly feel less nervous, you didn't want him to know that. your bit your lip. "not really," your murmur, to which his lips tilt up a bit, sensing your bluff. "no?" he questions.

you nod in agreement, you eyes locked on his, transfixed by the blue. you bit your lip, sitting up straighter in your seat. "yeah...i dunno, i was kind of hoping for a distraction?"

rafe lets out a laugh, catching your drift, leaning back on his seat. "nah, kid, thats bad. m'not gonna mess you up when you got all pretty. the press would love that."

you pout. "i dont mind..." you trail of, keeping eye contacy as your hands trails up his thigh. "please?" you all but whisper.

rafe purses his lips, hand rubbing his jaw. after a moment, he flicks his head in a nod. "alright, c'mon."

with his signal your slowly lean over, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. when the kiss starts slow, rafe breaks apart, smirking. "gone all soft on me?" he whispers. you swallow as your eyes remain on his lips as his do yours. "maybe," you whisper back, reconnection your lips in a more heated kiss, climbing up on his lap.

rafe moves your long dress to pool over the two of you, his hands holding the silky thin material covering your back. your hands gripped his biceps through his suit, humming into his mouth as your lips continued to dance.

your panties brushed over his lap and each time you moved you took in a sharp inhale of breath, causing him to grin into the kiss. his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing the plump covered skin, resulting in you arching your back into him, pressing you into his chest.

"so needy," he mumbled against you, hands still laid flat on your backside. with rosy cheeks, you murmur a flustered, "shut up," but dont deny his words.

with your lips still attached, rafe slipped his hands under the silk, his hands hot over your skin. i hum against him, reaching down to fiddle with his belt, breathing into him.

he hummed back, toying with the lacy sides of your panties. "sure you want to?" he questions breathlessly in a low voice.

"mhm, m'sure," you respond, eyes flickering up from his belt to meet his, cheeks red under his hot gaze. all of the sudden you felt shy, your movement faltering.

his lips quirked up warm smirk, he slid his hands off your skin and moved them down to his belt, finishing the job for you. "i got it," he murmurs, eyes locked on yous.

you bite your lip and looks down, watching as he slides his pants and boxers down to his ankles as you sit up a little. his hands move to your waist, moving you back up his body to hover over his lap. you look back up to him sliding you panties to the side and lining up your entrance with his dick.

you sink down, both of you sucking in breaths at the contact. rafe throws his head back, eyes shutting at the sensation and squeezing your waist, letting out a low groan. you clench around him at the sounds and bite back a whimper, hands pressing against his shoulders.

"oh, rafe," you sigh, body slumping in pleasure as he fills you slowly. "i know princess, i know," he murmurs, voice filled with the same lightness as yours.

"doing so good," he praises, leaning forwards to place a kiss on your shoulder. you hum, starting to lift yourself up, before slowly sliding back down.

rafe guides you, helping to ride him, slowly. every movement pleasurably stings, his length filling you up, causing you to squeeze around him.

euphoria fills you as does he. you feel the warmth of his hot breath against your skin and his hands over the silk covering your hips, the soft grunts and graon coming from his perfect lips. his throbbing head hits your spot, causing you to let out a breathy moan and grip his chiseled shoulders.

when he feels you clench around him, he grins, sliding his rough hands up your back. "close, yeah?" he whispers, and you quickly nod, a pout on your lips and your brows furrowed. "mhm," you answer, biting down on your lip as you look down, watching as you lift up, your dress moving aside to reveal the sight of your around him, causing you to take in a sharp inhale of air.

rafe follows your line of sight, and bites his lip, concentrated on the movement. he looks back up at you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek, bringing you focus to him. "hey, look at me," he orders, "want you lookin at me when i make you cum."

you hum, folding your lips inwards as you continue to ride him, not looking away from his face.

"rafe," you whimper, movement getting sloppy. "i know, i've got you," he mumbles, his hands moving down to once again guide you up and down his cock.

"shit," you curse, feeling that coil in your stomach tighten. "m'close."

"let go, baby, c'mon. i've got you."

at his word, the coil burst, euphoria washing over you as your throw your head back, eyes rolling back.

rafe marveled at the sight, in awe as he watched you come down. his hands kept moving you up and down him, letting you ride out your high.

you collapse on top of him, panting into his neck as he let out a chuckle, holding you close to him. you two sit in silence, chests heaving up and down with every breath. "feelin less nervous?" rafe humorously whispers, causing you to let out a breathy laugh, lifting up to dismount him. his words lead you back to reality, remembering that in just a few short minutes, you would be strutting on a red carpet.

you hum. "much. how do i look?"

rafe tilts his head as he tugs his pants back up, considering you. "like you just got your shit rocked."

you scoff out a laugh. "seriouslly."

he laughs. "you look good. you always do."

your cheeks get rosy. your lips form in a pout though, once you realize that you were the only one who came.

he sees your guilty expressions and smiles slightly, waving it off. "dont worry, i'll be ok."

your lips lift in a coy smile. "im not worried," you say, your voice tilting seductively. "we may not have enough time right now but..." you trail off, sliding your panties back up your legs. "i have a good feeling im going to need to slip off to the bathroom somtime during the show, and of course i'll need my bodyguard to escort me," you say, playfully.

he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head. "your trouble."

you dont respond to his statement, simply shrugging before slumping back into your seat, pulling out your lipgloss and hand mirror, fixing the smudge. after checking over the rest of your appearance, you put everything back in your purse, smacking your lips and looking out the window.

you watch as the car rolls up, the sight of fans, paparazzi, and flashes filling your view.

you sigh, look to the side to see rafe getting ready to step out. he tilts his brows. "ready?"

you nod, biting your lip. "ready."

[thearchercore]

It's very clear that just being fast (as a 1st or 2nd driver) does not mean top teams in F1 want you. The top teams need drivers who are good enough, but almost more importantly, that the driver a) won't cause a headache with their other driver and b) will align with their team values/reputation, i.e. the driver being the face of their brand will be positive for sponsors/marketing.

Midfield/backmarker teams don't have as much luxury to pick the 'perfect' driver for them, so they will just try to get the fastest driver available to them.

This is why Esteban, who has shown brilliant drives on occasion and could be a good no. 2 driver in a top team, has never gotten that call up. He can be fast, but his history with causing teammate drama on track is not something top teams want.

And Checo - it's obvious to everyone that he isn't performing at the level of his seat. But he's still there, because he does not cause any trouble with Max, and brings in sponsors and sells tons of merch. Same reason Daniel was around as long as he was.

Carlos has pace, we are not denying that. But he has the same issues as Esteban - fast but a bit too much of a headache with the other driver and with drama within a team.

Williams were jumping at the chance to sign him. But the other top teams have the luxury of choice to pick the best driver for them. And especially for a no 2 driver, sometimes pace is not as important.

true. there's a reason merc is signing a child instead of him and why red bull declined carlos like 4 times this year. also why ferrari didnt renew his contract. like the signs are there his fans just ignore them

[linskywords]

Hear me out: Mack coming up with increasingly more and more ridiculous excuses why he can't get his license. First Mack "slept through" his DMV appointment (even though it was at 1 pm but hey he was tired!)

He tried the "but Jumbo can't drive me" excuse but was accidentally outsmarted when Will offered to drive him and Mack totally forgot and was too busy giggling until they pulled into the parking lot.

It finally comes to a head when Mack runs out of ideas and tells Will they "ran out of drivers tests" (Side note: Mack has no idea what a drivers test actually is. Jumbo's been getting him books to read but they've been collecting dust under his bed)

Of course Will, ever the himbo, is in total shock and disbelief. How could the DMV let this happen?

Hahahaha that last one 🤣🤣🤣

Mack: "Yeah, bad news, I showed up to take it, but they ran out of tests."

Will: "What?? But don't they just have an instructor take you out on the road?"

Mack: "Uh...no. It's different in California."

Will: "Huh. I never knew that."

Mack: "Yeah, not a lot of people do."

Will: "So they just ran out? Can you go to a different DMV?"

Mack: "No, it's, uh, it's a statewide shortage. It's really sad actually."

Will: "Oh man. I guess I'll just have to keep driving you until they fix it."

Mack, lounging back in the passenger seat: "It's a shame, but what else are you gonna do?"

[gallaghersgal]

WILD & FLUORESCENT, lip gallagher

c5. of BORDERLINE, lip x bsf! reader (nickname: MK)

TAGS & WARNINGS → MATURE 18+. underage drinking, smoking (🚬), kissing!!!!! theyre kissing in this one guys. mostly fluff, a bit of emotional angst. but this is just the clubbing & graduation chapter, really!

CHAPTER SUMMARY → the last two months before graduation are a whirlwind, but you take all of it in stride. teetering on the edge of friends and something more, lip is by your side for all of it.

A/N → final chapter is here!! but don't worry, there is much more mkverse content to come. stay tuned!!

WC → 2.1k

After convincing Ian to drive the three of you downtown for the night, You, Lip and Adri pile into your car. You let Lip sit in the front seat to guide his brother, still newer at driving at only sixteen. Though, you remember a time when he’d driven a truck that Frank had… acquired. All the way down to the docks and back, at twelve. To say Fiona was pissed? That would be the understatement of the century.

You peer around the headrest, craning your neck while the car rolls to a stop in a crowded city lot. A deep color lines your lips, and you apply a shiny gloss on top. For a moment you glance at Lip, your heart quickening when you see he’s already looking at you. 

“Look like a whore,” he teases, drawing a giggle from your lips. You don’t mind it. You know he’s just being coy.

“Yeah well,” you gesture at his half undone button up, “could say the same about you.” You swat the back of his head with one hand before retreating to step out of the car.

Lip and Adri do the same, and the boy shrugs as he walks around to the drivers side where you are. The front window rolls down and Ian peeks out, “hey man, y’said you’d give me a ten for this.”

An unlit cig hands from his mouth as Lip pats his pockets for a lighter. You hand him yours when he’s unsuccessful. “Did I though?” Lip responds to his brother, “cause, I don’t remember that.” 

Adri fishes a ten five from her purse, then holds her hand out to Lip. “Come on, pay up.” He rolls his eyes at her but obliges, five dollars wasna sacrifice he could make. Adri hands the money to Ian with a pat on his arm, “thanks Ian, drive safe okay?”

He smiles and nods, rolling up the window before pulling away. Lip eyes her as the three of you walk towards the entry line. “You know AJ, there’s no use in hitting on my brother–”

She laughs in disbelief, “what? No, Lip–oh my god–I play for the other team too.” Lip’s eyes widen in surprise, his wit silenced, and Adri nearly doubles over. 

“Oh yeah?” Lip asks, “good to know.”

“Yeah. If I was going for anyone in your family, it’d for sure be Fiona,” she tells him, and then it’s Lip’s turn to stumble from the intensity of his laughter as you approach the end of the line. 

You check your reflection in the window of a closed shop, “If I don’t make out with someone fine tonight, I’m throwing a fit. Seriously.”

Still recovering, Lip pants out, “you look pretty like always MK.”

You raise an eyebrow in response, “really. ‘Cause earlier y’called me a whore.”

“Mm-hmm,” he nods, taking a drag from his cig before exhaling the smoke away from your face. “A pretty whore, yeah. What’s it Adri said, slutty chic?”

At his comment, you remember his words this morning. 

Lip and Adri wait for you outside the corner store as you get your picture taken for a new fake, dead set on getting a good one. This could last until your actual twenty-first birthday. When you finally emerge Lip takes your newly updated card from your hand, inspecting it closely. “You definitely got a discount ‘cause y’r hot. Mine cost like, twenty dollars more and wasn’t half as nice as this shit. But it scans, so I can’t complain.”

Adri eyes you at the comment, lifting an eyebrow behind Lip’s back. He’s indecisive in that way, always half hitting on you but never making a move. It drives you up the wall.

Why does Lip Gallagher have to be so infuriating?

You dismiss him as Adri pulls three smirnoff shooters from her purse. “Fuck! Forgot I had these in here still, meant to take them in the car.” She quickly passes you one each, unscrewing the top to her own. 

“Wait, I wanna make a video,” you tell her. “For our future selves.”

“Of course you do,” Lip complains, but there’s a smile on his face as you prop up your phone. 

You step back between the two of them, raising the small bottle. “Cheers! To… uh–”

“To your twenty-first,” Lip supplies with a smirk. He throws an arm around your shoulders after uncrewing his shot. “And to many, many more.”

“Many more!” Adri toasts, grinning as the three of you clink the bottles and down the shots. 

A bit of a lightweight, you’re feeling the shot by the time you approach the bouncer. By batting your eyes and flashing your ID while telling the large man how excited you were to finally get to try adult things, you distract him enough that he doesn’t check Adri’s ID. Only when the two of you make it to the bar and look back for Lip do you notice he’s still outside the door. He peers around, scowling at the two of you for abandoning ship while he’s left to shell out the cover fee. Thank god you’d known not to pick somewhere too fancy, a little divey club with a dated soundtrack and cheaper drinks. He only had to give the bouncer fifteen before he was allowed inside. 

You offer to buy him a drink as an apology but he refuses, placing a ten on the bar. “I’ll have the three for ten shots, just pour something y’think these girls would like?”

You watch the bartender shoot him a grin before grabbing a bottle of house made strawberry syrup. He rimmed three shot glasses with the syrup before pouring rum and a splash of lemonade. He passes them over and Lip hands the shots out, “on me,” he says with a grin as he elbows you. 

The rum goes down the hatch with ease–it’s your favorite liquor–the bartender made a pretty accurate guess. While you shake off the burn of the shot you hear music that you immediately recognize. You place the plastic cup down on the bar and grab your friends’ hands. “Come on!”

You drag Adri onto the floor, grinning when she takes your other hand and the two of you twirl around. Your hand had slipped from Lip’s as he stayed by the bar, ordering drinks. You pray to god he’s putting them on separate tabs. Lip wades through the crowd with three plastic cups in his hands. He passes two fruity cocktails to you and Adri before gulping down half of his own whiskey sour, his hips beginning to sway to the beat. You twirl around on your own, surprised when a warm hand lands on your hip. 

From behind you Lip murmurs, “this ain’t weird, right?” He guides you to face in Adri’s direction, shes lost in some girl’s eyes. 

You stammer out, “n-no ‘s not–” before he’s swaying you to the beat. He downs the rest of his drink, placing the empty cup on a ledge to your right. Two hands now guide you to face him, looking like the cat that got the cream the way he’s grinning at you.  

And it isn’t weird, really. You’ve always had this unspoken thing between you. Always flirted with the edge of friendship and something more. Regardless, you’re comfortable with it. 

The night goes on just like that, Adri swaps kisses with the girl, smudging a nice shade of brown all over her own lips. You stumble out around two-thirty in the morning, clinging to Lip’s side as Adri hops in a cab home. She offered the two of you a ride to the station but it was in the opposite direction, and Lip insisted the two of you could walk the two blocks there. 

“C’mon MK, lets get you home yeah?” Lip says, his arm holding your waist securely. 

You focus on your steps, blurry eyes pulling away from Adri’s cab as she leaves. You look up to see Lip’s sparkling blue eyes turned toward you, and you’re grateful to the cool wind for excusing the flush on your cheeks. 

“Thanks,” you slur, heading down the street. It’s a short walk which you fill with comfortable silence until your tired body is collapsing into a seat on the L. Within seconds your head finds Lip’s shoulder, drawing a chuckle from the boy. “Lip?” you ask softly, looking up at him.

He smiles graciously, his lips curving into a tipsy grin. “Yeah? Wha’s up kid?”

Your flush worsens at the soft nickname and gentle tone of voice he uses. “Will we be best friends forever?” you ask softly, feeling childish. But you need to know, and they always say drunk words are sober thoughts.

Lip’s smile dips and for a second you fear the worst, but his gentle hand moves to ruffle your already messy hair. “Oh yeah, no doubt about it,” he murmurs. Before you know what’s happening he’s kissed your head. A soft peck right on your crown. 

You stare up in awe, and as if moving on their own you see your fingers tangle in his curls. You pull him down until his lips are on yours, teeth knocking but you don’t find it in you to care. He tastes like the whiskey sours he’d been sipping on all night, smooth bourbon mingling with the acidic taste of a vodka cran on your tongue. 

After a moment you come to your senses, kissing him like this on a public–although empty–train. “Fuck! Lip, ‘m s-so sorry, jeez–”

He cuts you off with a soft finger running over your bottom lip. He traces up to the corner, lifting it into a pretty curve until you’re smiling on your own. He kisses your smiling lips, then murmurs, “‘s okay, y’know. We can be friends who kiss.”

You can kiss Lip Gallagher. Whenever you want. You’re too elated to care about the friendly label. 

Graduation rolls around in due time. Lip looks good in his cap and gown, khaki shorts and a crisp button down underneath. He has you tie his deep blue tie for him, up in your bedroom before heading off. He kisses you in the proximity, holding your cap flush against your head as his own knocks it backwards. All while Caroline and Ian wait downstairs. 

The four of you ride in your car over to the school, and you hold back your tears in the parking lot as you hug your little sister all, dressed up to sing the National Anthem at your graduation. You sit far from Lip during the ceremony but find each other afterwards, walking to the front of the school arm in arm to take a few pictures. Adri surprises you on the way, catching up after sitting right in the front for the best view. You shriek with laughter as she hugs you, you hadn’t even seen her. The three of you take a picture together, Adri sandwiched between Lip and yourself. When you look back at it, you see Lip smiling like the sun in your direction. 

When everything is done and your camera roll is sufficiently full of graduation shots, your little group disbands. Lip says goodbye to his own family, Fiona needing to return to work and Veronica taking the kids back home. You hug your parents tightly, taking one last photo with them by the school sign before they head off. Adri takes a hint from the glance you shoot her, and offers Caro and Ian a ride in her jeep, with the windows down. Of course they say yes. 

That leaves you and Lip alone in your car. You shift into reverse, and when you turn your head to check behind you, he catches your lips with his own. Just a peck, you wish it was more. “You’ll call me every Friday when I’m in Mass, yeah?” he asks, face still close to yours. 

“Of course I will,” you murmur. “I’ll update you on everything.”

“Everything?” he questions, as a smirk plays at his lips. 

“Yeah, everything. Promise.”

You hold out your pinkie, and he does the same. You lock your fingers in the same way you would as kids, swearing to be friends forever. Distance won’t break this bond, right?

“Even your hookups?” Lip asks, drawing his pinkie back from yours. “I want it all, y’know. Girl talk and everything.”

You laugh at him before turning your gaze forward again. “Yeah, right. No fuckin’ way I’m telling you about my sex life. I’ll have Adri for that.” 

He laughs too, goodnaturedly, and clicks his seatbelt on when you glare at him. “Well, I’ll be tellin’ you ‘bout mine, so just know that. Dunno if I’m gonna make too many friends with those mathlete pricks and daddy’s money jagoffs,” he scoffs. 

You roll your eyes, “yeah, I’ll be your phone diary, ‘kay?” From the corner of your eye you can see him smile.

THX 4 READING → the final installment of borderline is dedicated to mkip nation; @notsonian, @ariiireads, and @dearpyramus. beta'd by the lovely @carmybrainworms <33

[nicholasgoodgirl]

no regrets - spencer reid

summary: you went to an event with your dad (aaron hotchner) and couldn't even bother to be there any longer, so you take too many drinks of wine and get reid to take you home hopefully you don't regret what happens.

warnings: cheating, suggestive, underage drinking. that should be it

a/n: i like the whole Aaron's daughter concept.. so i might do that often

flashy clothes and showy jewelry is what the people consisted of. i was at some event with my dad i couldn't care less about, but he just wants me close by because the unsub they're dealing with seems to be a threat. well atleast thats what he keeps telling me

every glass of wine that is offered to me i down it; feeling a slight effect with each drink.

next thing i knew i couldn't even walk with one foot infront of the other properly. i go over to my dad and ask him to take me home with one glance he knew i was intoxicated.

"how many glasses did you have to drink?" he whispered while taking me away from the group he was talking too.

"It's fine im of age" i replied dismissively "no, you're 20" he grabbed ahold of my shoulders and made me face him.

"so what? im lacking just one year, whats the difference?" i got out of his grip and rolled my eyes. he got his phone out and texted someone. a few minutes later spencer came over there. "he's taking you home"

spencer tried to take me by my hand but i snatched it away "no i wanna stay" i whined. "you take things too far, it's a bad look on me, it's a bad look on your boyfriend, and it's a bad look on the whole team"

"just say you don't want me around and I'll leave" i said sounding a bit hurt. thats because i was.

"and my boyfriends not even here or hardly around guess thats something you two share"

"I try-" is all i heard before walking away with reid. he took me out to the car and helped me into the passanger seat, then went to the drivers side and drove me to my dad's house.

---

my movements were more sluggish and i started to think mindlessly. spencer got me through the front door "why do you treat your dad like that- i mean i have a few ideas why, but i wanna hear personally from you" he probes.

"m' not sure reid" i reach out for the couch, pointing to a random place in the living room where i thought the couch was "couch" is all i muttered.

he helped me over there and placed me on the couch "you shouldn't drink. not only does it effect your brain development but it's illegal" he stated matter-of-factly.

"mhm" i groaned "would you like some water? I'm gonna go get you glass of water" he was up going through the cabinets looking for a cup. he came back with a glass of water

he sat on the couch putting my legs on his. he put the glass up to my lips but i didn't take a sip "please sweetheart it will lessen the chances of a hangover"

"awe that was cute" my tone a little condescending before pushing the glass away. my phone began to ring and spencer checked it for me "it's your boyfriend"

"don't answer" me and my boyfriend got into a tiny argument before i left to the event because he didn't trust me.

"just take a sip and I'll stop nagging" he offered the glass to me again and i parted my lips slightly to take a sip. "thank you"

"mhm" i took the glass from him drinking more; finishing the whole glass and setting it down.

for the first time tonight i actually looked into spencers eyes. i lock eyes with him, his gaze piercing into mine. for a moment it made me feel a rush of something i never felt before, not even with my boyfriend.

i take action stealing a kiss then pulling him closer towards me by his tie; his body fitting perfectly in between my legs on the couch .

"uh.. i don't really think we should-" i place another kiss on his lips "-be making out on your dads couch" he finished his sentence ultimately defeated when he gives into me.

the heat of our bodies on eachother intensifying the moment. it was irresistible, every movement was perfect

i run my fingers through his locks, working my lips to breathlessness. "no.. we don't work. this won't work" spencer sits up and scoots away from me "you have a boyfriend and im not really into the whole cheating and sneaking.. thing"

"sorry okay i don't know what i was thinking" i apologized feeling so much embarrassment. he just sighed running his fingers through his hair. "let me just get you to bed"

he helps me walk to my bedroom, putting my arm around his neck steadying me with his hands around my waist.

"while you're here can you help me change into my pajamas?" a humorless laugh had him winded and he was hesitant at first but began to take my heels off then removing my dress, leaving me in my bra and panties.

spencer took this as his chance to admire me. for the first time tonight i got shy under his gaze. he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and gave me a kiss on my forehead.

there was something i felt for spencer reid, i have for a long time. i don't know if it's a thought or feelings i already had that boiled down from fear of rejection. all i know is im in a relationship right now probably not the healthiest but i can't do that to him, it wouldn't be fair.

maybe spencer is the right persn wrong time.

in the midst of thought i had been snapped out of it by spencer placing a shirt over my head then laying me down to help the sweatpants up my legs. i lifted my hips so he can pull them up for me all the way.

i crawled over to my usual side of the bed, laying down getting comfortable. "hey reid? can you stay with me?"

"i probably shouldn't" he walked over to the door of my bedroom to leave out "goodnight" ,,night" i mumbled

that was it. he left and i was gonna have to tell my boyfriend i cheated on him. while im at it i should probably tell him that i want someone else. but i won't do that i could never bring myself to do it because i also don't know if the feeling is mutual between me and spencer.

[luvinqstvrnz]

Short Matt fic <3

Summary: You and Matt are bestfriends, he's always been a caring guy. You and Matt go to an animal shelter just to look at the animals.

(Use of y/n)

A/N: I just wanted to write a short wholesome fic 😞❤️

Matt x f!reader

୨୧ ──────────── ୨୧ ──────────── ୨୧

You were laying about your house, you didn't really have anything to do that day. Randomly you get a text from your bestfriend, Matt.

“Hey y/n, wanna come over?”

You rolled your eye's, it's almost every day you get a text from him asking you to come over, but you didnt have anything to do so you gave in.

“Yeah.. I guess.. I'll be over in a minute”

You quickly got up and got ready, nothing too extravagant, he was your bestfriend afterall. You took your leave to his house making sure you had everything you needed.

After about 30 minutes you arrived at his house he shared with his brother's. You walk up to their front door and knock lightly.

“Oh, hey y/n!”

Nick greeted you, it wasn't very often that he opened the door considering he was always upstairs.

“Hey, Nick! Can I come in?”

You asked and he stepped to the side, closing the door behind you.

“What's up? Why are you here today?”

Nick asked, you just gave him a look. That's all he needed.

“Damn it... Matt!”

He yelled as he walked up the stairs into their living room. Matt comes hurling out of his bedroom, slipping on his shirt.

“Y/n, hi!”

Matt seemed so excited just to see you, it had only been two days.

“Hey, Matt”

You chuckled softly as he embraced you and held you warmly, he squeezed you tightly and let go after a minute or two.

“I missed you”

He smiled into his words and patted your shoulder.

“I missed you too, Matt”

Matt looked at Nick, signaling for him to leave, Nick just rolled his eyes and went upstairs.

“So... Wanna go do something?”

Matt asked you excitedly, you could tell he had something up his sleeve. He always wanted to go do silly thing's.

“Like...?”

He smiled and quickly grabbed his car keys.

“Come with me”

He smirked and ran down the steps into the garage, opening one of the car doors for you and slipped into the drivers seat.

You were a bit suspicious, he never really wanted to drive unless he absolutely had to.

“Matt, what in the world is going on?”

You asked, he just looked at you and smiled. After what felt like hours in the car (It was only 20 minutes, but Matt was being stubborn), you arrive at an animal shelter.

“Matt are you serious?”

You chuckled into the palm of your hand and got out of the car. He excitedly walked up to the door and held it open for you and an elderly couple walking in behind you guys. Matt talked to some receptionist and held your hand as he walked you guys to the back. There were so many cats, dogs and even some birds.

“Oh my gosh, look at him!”

Matt pointed out a sleeping kitten just to the side of you guys, you just went along with him, looking at all the animals.

Matt walked away for a second and spoke to a volunteer at the shelter. He came back all jumpy and excited.

“We get to go in and pet some of the dogs!”

He was so giddy and excited just to pet the dogs.

“Oooh! Yay!”

You smiled and held Matt's hand on the way to see the dogs, he was all smiles and giggles the whole time. You guys walked inside of the cage they kept the dogs in, which was surprisingly well kept. He immediately rushed over to pet the dogs.

“Whats this ones name?”

He asked the volunteer at the shelter excitedly

“Oh that ones name is Lucky”

The volunteer told him with a slight irritation to her voice, Matt didn't notice and just pet the dog.

“Lucky's super cute, huh Matt?”

Matt looked at you and nodded frantically, he loved the dogs and cats all around the shelter and gave them all love, the one he liked the most was Lucky, Lucky ran around him and crawled on his lap.

You sat down next to Matt and pet Lucky.

“Are you guys a couple?”

You looked up and it was an elderly lady, the same one Matt held the door open. She was holding her husbands hand and smiling at you and matt.

“Oh... No haha!”

You played it off and chuckled, but Matt seemed a bit down after that, you didn't think much of it. He was your bestfriend afterall.

“I really want to adopt Lucky...”

Matt said with a bit of a pout, he had really grown a liking to Lucky.

“Well... I know you can't have pets in your house but... I can adopt Lucky... If you want?”

You said to him and his eyes immediately lit up, he was so happy.

“You would adopt Lucky? I can pay for him”

You brushed him off and told him it was okay, you guys gathered your belongings off the ground that you sat down next to you.

You and Matt walked up to the receptionist and spoke about adopting Lucky, she said it would take a month or two, to get Lucky all of the shots and paperwork but eventually you and Matt signed on Lucky and now all you had to do was wait.

୨୧ ────────── ୨୧ ──────────୨୧

You got a call from Matt a few months later

“I'm coming over y/n, don't question it”

He didn't even let you respond before hanging up. An hour later Matt showed up to your house and knocked on your door, you went over to answer and opened the door.

You heard a faint barking that was coming out from behind your door.

“Lucky!?”

You opened your door and pushed past Matt, the dog you guys adopted together was right there. You were so happy.

“Hey! What about me?”

Matt pouted, you took Lucky inside and let Matt in as well.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now Matt!”

You set Lucky down and kissed Matt on the cheek while you hugged him tightly.

He just blushed and smiled.

You wondered if you guys would ever be something other than friends...

୨୧ ────────── ୨୧ ──────────୨୧

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals masterlist In The Woods Somewhere masterlist | Professional//Victim masterlist

Here's a long ass update to make up for me posting infrequently. CW: human trafficking, captive whumpee, death threats We're gonna take it back now y'all

Day One

Something was deeply, deeply wrong. 

Tommy hadn’t been taken anywhere without Caius for more than five goddamn years. If he was being whisked off to a client, he hadn’t been prepped, and his handler wasn’t there to keep him subdued. Whatever pills Rory had given him back in the basement had worn off, and the panic was starting to set in. Did Caius even know he was here? 

The car came to an unexpected halt on a dirt road, a few short paces away from an old truck pulled off to the side. There was nothing else around for miles, nothing but endless forest. Even if Tommy could break away, he wouldn’t get far. The thick shock collar around his throat guaranteed that much. 

The windows slowly rolled down. They were letting him out here?

Rory got out, as did the driver of the pickup. The client(?) leaned against their truck, one hand in the pocket of their bulky denim coat, the other holding a small duffel bag by their side. They exchanged a few words that Tommy couldn’t hear, then peered right at Tommy. It sent a chill down his spine, like he was prey being spotted by a predator. They unzipped the bag and showed the contents to Rory, before closing it again and slinging it over their shoulder. The two of them shook hands.

Rory returned to the car, walking up to Tommy’s side. He reached through the window, unlocking the cuffs from around the door handle and reclosing them around Tommy’s wrists. 

“What are we doing?” Tommy asked. 

Rory opened the door and took hold of Tommy’s arm, pulling him out. 

“Where’s Caius?”

Rory didn’t answer, just guided Tommy toward the stranger and their truck.

“You never take me to clients,” Tommy continued, trying to keep his voice from sounding frantic and panicked. “I wasn’t briefed at all!”

Rory brought Tommy to a halt in front of the stranger, grip still firm on his arm.

Except… no, it wasn’t a stranger. 

Tommy recognized those cold, deep eyes; the way they watched him with a viscious hunger. 

Fletcher.

They had met at an event he’d been taken to as a product demonstration. Fletcher had taken an interest in Tommy, talked to him like a person instead of an object to be broken, and then was called upon by Caius to torture him in front of a crowd. And they delivered. 

They must’ve given in to temptation and finally rented Tommy to get to torture him again. But still… why wasn’t anyone telling him what was going on? 

“We good?” Rory asked. 

“We’re good,” Fletcher responded, eyes still focused on Tommy. “You can put him in the passenger seat.”

Rory pulled Tommy around to the other side of the truck and gave him a shove to step up into the cab. He secured his cuffs around the inner door handle again before shutting him in.

Why are we taking their truck?

Fletcher handed Rory the bag. Rory traded it for one much smaller he pulled from his coat pocket, dropping the handcuff keys into it before giving it over. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Rory said. He scurried off, past the back seat, past the truck entirely, and back to his own car, throwing the duffel bag in the trunk.

“Wait, wait, aren’t you coming?!” Tommy called after him.

Rory hadn’t answered any of his questions before, and he wasn’t going to start now. He got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove away.

“Rory!” Tommy yelled as if there was any hope of being heard. “Where the fuck is Caius?!”

Tommy jumped when the door slammed shut opposite him. Fletcher, settling into the driver’s seat, kept staring at him with this look. Their face was expressionless, but their eyes were focused, like a sighthound.

Tommy curled in on himself, pressing against the door. His heart was hammering in his chest but he could barely move, caught somewhere between flight and fawn. 

Fight had died long ago. He worked with what he had left. 

Did Caius know where Tommy was, what was happening? Why would he not be here? Could he possibly trust Fletcher to take Tommy alone?

The truck started, and they pulled back out onto the road, heading in the opposite direction. Tommy stole a glance at Fletcher, searching for some sign of intention. 

What kind of body language says, “I am looking forward to killing you”?

But Fletcher wasn’t looking at him at all anymore; they just kept their eyes on the road. 

Tommy wracked his brains for anything he knew about Fletcher. 

He knew they liked to torture people. He knew they were a professional at it. They reveled in the reactions they elicited by causing pain. And he knew first hand that they were very, very good at it. 

Other than that? Not much. At the event where they had met, they were dressed up in a suit and tie. Now they wore a jean jacket over a flannel shirt, hair tucked under a beanie, cargo pants tucked into boots. Their truck was not new, though it seemed well maintained. There was a thin chain of charms hanging off the rearview mirror. What did any of this mean for him? His vision was going blurry.

“Please… don’t cry the whole time,” Fletcher groaned, putting their hand up. “It’s a long drive.”

Tommy hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. He hunched over and wiped his face on his sleeve the best he could.

“Sorry,” he sniffed quietly. “Where… are we going?”

“Back to my place.”

“And Caius is… okay with this…?”

Fletcher looked at him finally, raising an eyebrow. “They didn’t tell you anything?”

Tommy swallowed and shook his head. 

Fletcher turned their attention back to the road. “You’re not on a job; I bought you. Like, permanently, not for the night or whatever.”

Tommy felt cold suddenly. The truck was moving too much - he was dizzy. 

“No…” he said under his breath.

Fletcher raised their eyebrows at him again. “Yes.”

NO. NO. That fucker doesn’t get to just - what, throw me away, after all this? He took everything from me, made me exactly what he fucking wanted, and now - now he couldn’t even spare a damn goodbye?!

How could he get rid of me?!

He wanted to scream, and shout, and thrash and fight and demand god to strike down that dirty bastard. And yet, he was frozen, paralyzed by the weight of it. His chest ached like his ribs were curling in around his heart, crushing whatever was left of it in a fatal embrace. He wished it would. But the pain didn’t end, it just pulsed endlessly inside him. And he knew god would not strike Caius down, just like he hadn’t any other time Tommy had begged. 

As his situation started to sink in, his teeth started to chatter like he was freezing. He had to bite down to suppress it. He slowly turned in horror to Fletcher, as he realized the stranger beside him decided his fate. 

Fletcher was his master now; that’s what mattered. He had to find out what they wanted from him and deliver it.

“What, um… what do you want from me?”

“Mm…” Fletcher drummed their fingers against the steering wheel. “Household work. Teaching assistance. Punching bag.” Fletcher shrugged. 

Household work made sense - that wasn’t scary. Punching bag made sense, too, although he didn’t feel as good about it. 

“Teaching assistance?” Tommy echoed.

“Yeah, I run a training program for mercs and mobsters,” Fletcher explained. “It’s easier when I have someone to demonstrate on sometimes.”

“Demonstrate… what kind of things?”

Fletcher sighed, shrugged, shook their head. Fuck, he was annoying them already. 

“Like, holds, target spots, maneuvers, whatever,” was Fletcher’s explanation. 

Tommy didn’t ask any further questions, fearing Fletcher’s ire. He turned and watched the scenery out the window. This little trip was the most he’d seen of sunlight since he’d been sentenced to the hole, and he tried to soak up as much of it as he could. He pressed against the window, his face following the arc of the sun like a sunflower. There wasn’t much to look at other than fields and trees, the occasional train track cutting through. Farm houses and industrial buildings became more and more scarce as they drove. Fletcher turned on some music to fill the silence.

After what felt somehow both like a long time and far too soon, Fletcher slowed the truck. Tommy whipped his head around, trying to figure out why they would be stopping again on an empty country road. 

The truck turned seemingly at random and drove into the trees. It grew dark under the canopy of the branches above, and still the truck tunneled deeper.

Tommy’s anxiety bubbled up inside of him again.

They’re taking me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me. Caius always threatened that people would pay good money to snuff me, and he finally accepted an offer. All that stuff about housework and teaching was bullshit - that’s why their explanation was so flimsy. 

God, they were still driving. The truck was moving slowly, winding its way through the undergrowth and trees, but they were deep enough that Tommy couldn’t see the road.

He tugged on the cuffs again. What were his chances if he tried to run when they unlocked him? As long as he ran back the way they came…

They were nowhere near town. Maybe it was better just to hide somewhere until Fletcher… gave up on looking? And then, what? Build a shelter and fire with his bare hands? Hunt and forage for his food until he found his way back to civilization?

He tried to size Fletcher up, but the likelihood of him being able to overpower them seemed slim, considering the fact that they just told him they literally teach a class on how to hurt people, and he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Still, no harm in trying if he was going to die anyway. But… if Rory gave them the keys, Fletcher probably held the remote to his collar as well. Tommy’s breathing quickened and he couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over again. 

The trees were beginning to turn vibrant shades of yellow and red, flittering down lightly when the breeze came through. 

At least it was a pretty place to die.

“Ugh, why are you crying?” Fletcher demanded. “There’s no way you liked those guys!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tommy wiped his eyes against his shoulder. “I’ll stop. I’ll be good. Okay? I can do whatever you want. I’m - I’m really good at - at doing whatever… whatever I have to do.”

Fletcher glanced at him.

 “...Yeah.” It was blunt, like he had stated the obvious.

“You want me to beg, I’ll beg. You want me to shut up and I’ll shut up. I can help around the house, I can help with the training, I can - I can take a beating, I can do whatever you want. I can make you feel good. I can be useful, I just need to be alive to do it.”

A look of realization crossed Fletcher’s face. “You think I’m going to kill you.”

Tommy hesitated to respond. “I think… I can… prove that it’s better if you don’t.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Fletcher scoffed. “Do you know how much I just spent on you?”

Tommy studied their face, trying to determine if they were telling the truth.

“A lot of people would spend a lot of money for that,” he answered quietly.

Fletcher chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“If… you’re not going to kill me…” Tommy spoke carefully, watching for any signs that he was making Fletcher angry. “What are we doing driving out into the middle of the woods?”

“I live here.”

Tommy looked out the window. “You live… in the woods?”

He flinched when Fletcher suddenly reached out and clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sharp grin.

“We live in the woods.”

Just then, the world became light again. The truck entered a clearing, and pulled up to a house. 

It was so out of place it was disorienting to look at. 

“What…” Tommy was dumbstruck. “What is this place?”

“My house.” Fletcher parked and unbuckled. “I call it the lodge.”

“The Lodge” was well-built, modernized with solar panels on the roof without straying too far from a rustic look. It was huge for just the two of them, with a sizable clearing ringing the building. Swathes of land on the side were occupied with gardens, rows studded with crops of all sizes and shapes. 

It was also distinctly in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Nowhere to run to, even if he got a chance. 

“Well,” Fletcher said lightly, pushing the gear shift into park. 

“Welcome home.”

~

“Alright, here’s the tour,” Fletcher said as they led Tommy inside. They left his wrists cuffed and guided him with a hand cupped around his elbow.

“This is the common area - living room, whatever you want to call it. TV, movies, books.” They pointed at the shelves as they spoke. “You’re allowed in here. This is the kitchen, help yourself to pretty much whatever. Some stuff will have people’s names on them, obviously don’t eat those. The rest is fair game. Just use common sense. If I meal prep I will let you know.”

“Wait, wh-” Tommy didn’t get his question out before Fletcher pulled him along.

“This is gonna be your room.” They opened a wooden door into a small room, sparsely furnished with a twin bed, bedside table, and dresser. An old lamp sat crooked on the table, and an odd extra chair sat beside the dresser. 

What struck Tommy the most was the window. A big, beautiful window looking out on the grounds, filling the room with sunlight. It was a far cry from his basement cell for that alone. Graying blinds were cinched up to the top of the window frame, and he couldn’t imagine wanting them closed. His eyes welled, but he had only a moment to look before Fletcher was dragging him off again.

“We’ll come back around.”

They led him down the hall. “Bathroom is here. There are three trainees living here right now.” 

Oh. The students. Tommy hadn’t realized they would be living here, too. The pit of anxiety in his stomach ached, a stark reminder of the danger he’d almost forgotten for one brief moment. 

Fletcher pointed at a set of closed doors. “Trainee room, trainee room, trainee room. Don’t go in there. That at the end is my room. Do not go in there. Upstairs is another bedroom and my office. No reason to go up there. Definitely don’t fucking go in my office. This door leads to the basement. It’s storage and, uh… miscellaneous.”

Fletcher led him back to the living room and pulled a box off the shelf. They popped the lid and dug around inside, withdrawing their hand victoriously clutching a sturdy-looking strap. A small black device was mounted on it, decorated with a blinking green light the size of a pin.

“Here, take a seat buh- bud.” A look of irritation crossed their face when they stumbled, but it passed just as quickly. 

Tommy sat cautiously on the couch, and Fletcher sat beside him. 

“Give me your leg.”

Tommy was hesitant, but with an impatient look from Fletcher, he twisted to reluctantly lay a leg across their lap. Fletcher pulled up his pant leg, bunching the fabric up around his calf before wrapping the band around his ankle. Tommy got a sinking feeling. Fletcher seemed less strict, but then immediately went for overkill. He already had the implanted tracker and the collar - how much more did they need?

With a jarring pull, Fletcher tightened it, a quick clickclickclickclickclick telling Tommy it was locking into place with the adjustment. They gave it a few hard pulls, satisfied when it didn’t budge. 

“Alright now, that’s going to stay on. If you try to mess with it, it’ll send an alert to my phone, and I’ll make sure you can’t run the old fashioned way.” Fletcher gave him a wolfish grin, and Tommy instinctively shrank away. They pushed his leg off and stood, beckoning him up and replacing their grip on his arm. 

“Shall we?”

Fletcher led him past the kitchen and through a glass door that opened out behind the house. They went through a gate in the chicken-wire perimeter around their farming plot. 

“This is the garden. We’re going to be spending a lot of time here. I try to guild it so it’s more self-sustaining, but it still requires tending and harvesting. Here we got onions, that patch is potatoes, the sisters are over there…”

“The sisters?” Tommy repeated, looking around.

“Corn, beans, and squash. Let’s see, we got lettuce here, sunchoke, tomatoes, carrots, peas. These are stinging nettles, so don’t touch them without gloves, but they have a lot of uses. The greenhouse is mostly herbs - I make tea blends. And squash growing on the ceiling. Also have backup crops of some of these, in case animals get at them too much. The shed has got normal shed stuff. Tools, mulch, firewood, snowblower, shit like that. Uh, don’t go in there either.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because I have axes and shit in there. Let’s go.”

Fletcher led Tommy across the clearing. They made it a few feet past the first trees when a loud beeping began emanating from Fletcher’s pocket. They stopped and pulled out their phone, holding it up to show Tommy before clearing the alarm. 

“You cross the treeline,” they pointed at the monitor around his ankle. “That thing will let me know. It has GPS, so I’ll know exactly where you are. And that’s just a redundancy, because your last owners gave me access to your tracking chip.”

Tommy’s stomach twisted, the familiar feeling of being trapped anchoring him again. 

“Okay. I understand.”

Fletcher led him back towards the house. “You have until the treeline.”

“Wait, wait,” Tommy slowed his steps, causing Fletcher to stop and look at him. “You mean I can walk out of the house and go all the way to the trees?”

“Yes, that was the perimeter,” Fletcher said. “I set it at the edge of the clearing all the way around. Just don’t go into the woods.”

“But I can… leave the house?” Tommy asked in disbelief. Even as he said it, it felt foolish. He must not be understanding. “Like, you’re making it sound like I can just… walk out and wander around outside.”

“Yeah. Until the treeline,” Fletcher repeated.

Tommy was speechless. Fletcher continued to lead him back inside, taking him to his room.

“That was the lodge in brief, any questions so far?”

“Um, yeah, I mean… I have a few, if that’s okay. I just - I just want to be able to… do a good job here…”

“Okay.”

“Um… the kitchen.”

“Yep.”

“You said I can help myself to food.”

“I did.” A pause. “Is there a question?”

“I guess… not?” Tommy said. “I just, um… like, how much… can I eat, I guess?”

Fletcher shrugged. “Eat when you’re hungry, stop when you’re full. I think you can handle that.”

It felt like a trap.

“And I can eat… is there like, going to be certain foods set aside that I’m allowed to have?”

“Mm, not really. If I do a big batch of food I might set some aside for you but for the most part, no.”

“So how do I…”

“If it looks like it belongs to someone - like, has someone’s name or is clearly someone’s leftovers - don’t eat it,” Fletcher said. “If it is regular, unclaimed food, go ahead. Just use common sense.”

Common sense hadn’t been a factor in Tommy’s decision making very much in the last several years. It was more dominated by anticipating and heeding the whims of whichever unreasonable freaks he was with at the moment.

But, there was nothing else to be said on that subject. He moved on to the next.

“You said I couldn’t go in your or the trainee’s rooms.”

“Correct.”

“How am I going to clean them?”

Fletcher furrowed their brows at him. “Clean them?”

“Well, yeah… I figured… I would be cleaning the house, right?”

“I mean, yeah, probably,” Fletcher conceded. “But they’re adults, they can clean up their own space. No one wants you poking around their stuff. And you’re definitely not allowed in my room. Or my office.”

Tommy nodded. “Understood.”

“Anything else?”

“Umm… I guess… not?” He had a thousand questions, but he didn’t want to risk pestering Fletcher too much right off the bat.”

“Okay. Great.” Fletcher paced slightly before stopping in front of Tommy again. “Here’s the thing. I want you to change your name.”

“Oh. Okay.” Made sense. New owner, new identity they would ascribe to him.

“Doesn’t matter what. Probably. Just… something else.”

“Okay.” 

They both waited.

“You don’t have to pick right now, I guess…” Fletcher began.

Tommy raised his eyebrows.

“Oh - I’m picking?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“Wh… well, what do you want to call me?”

“I don’t… really care, dude. You want to go by Davy again?”

Tommy felt a strange jolt at hearing his old name. An immediate tension in his body, accelerated heartbeat like it was a sign of danger.

Not to mention, Davy was long since dead. He was killed to make room for Tommy.

“Not… really,” he said sheepishly, drawing in on himself, afraid to give the wrong answer.

“What about James? A lot of people go by their last name here.”

Tommy put his head down, running his hands back and forth through his hair. Of course Fletcher knew his full legal name. It was just strange to hear it said back to him after so many years.

“Um… I don’t know…”

“Well, think about it,” Fletcher said. “It can be a nickname, I don’t care. Just something.”

Being Tommy felt right, felt natural in his role now. He’d gotten used to it. Tommy obeys, Tommy serves, Tommy gets punished. Tommy is owned by - Fletcher, now. It was an odd thought.

“Well, I’ll let you settle in here,” Fletcher said. “You can take it easy and adjust for the first day.”

They headed toward the door.

“W-Wait,” Tommy called after them.

Fletcher stopped and turned back.

“What about… what are my rules?” Tommy asked. Maybe he should’ve asked when Fletcher allowed him questions, but he had just assumed Fletcher would tell him on their own and he didn’t want to push them. But without Fletcher laying out his rules for him, how would he know how to navigate his existence here? How would he know how to avoid getting in trouble?

“Okay, yeah, um,” Fletcher clapped their hands together. “Mostly, just do what I tell you, when I tell you. Stay out of the places I told you to stay out of. Know your place. Obviously don’t touch any weapons - common sense stuff. Mostly just comes down to following orders.”

Tommy nodded. “Yes, Fletcher. Err…do you have a title you want me to call you?”

“Nah, just my name,” Fletcher said. “I mean, I don’t care if you call me ‘boss’ or whatever, like that, just don’t call me ‘master’ ‘cause that shit’s cringe. No sir or ma’am shit either. Got it?”

“Yes, Fletcher.”

Even though Tommy felt like he should be keeping rapt attention on Fletcher, he couldn’t keep his eyes from continuing to drift to the window. They got stuck there, watching the clouds drift across the sky, the grass and branches bow in the breeze.

“What?” Fletcher prodded. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“Oh, no, sorry,” Tommy said, looking back at them. “I just, um, haven’t had a window in a while.”

Fletcher stared at him for a beat. “What?”

“I was in the basement…” Tommy didn’t want to get into it any further than that.

“...Jesus. Okay, well, I’ll leave you to acclimate. Did you eat today?”

Tommy shook his head. He hadn’t been focused on his hunger, but once it had been pointed out, he could feel it stabbing at him from the inside.

“You should probably do that.” Fletcher slipped through the door, adding before they pulled it closed behind them, “You know where the kitchen is.”

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[sunnyie-eve]

41 | Jelly

Series: Unexpected

Paring: (Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!) (Chris Sturniolo x OFC Brock!)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Matt being a little jealous

| MASTERLIST |

"Wakey, wakey. You get to meet Gage today." Dani climbs onto Matt's bed to wake him up but he just rolls away from her. "Matty, wake up." She runs her fingers through his hair but he still doesn't get up. "Fine, I just go lay with Chris till you get up." She jokes around which causes him to roll over grabbing her wrist.

"No the fuck you aren't." He makes her laugh, "We said no more cuddling with Chris in his bed."

"He doesn't even cuddle as well as you do. Plus he's on the couch with Nick." She lets him know, "Now get up and get dressed. They'll be here soon." She gets off his bed leaving the room.

By the time Matt joins the others, Dani's mom and Gage arrive already chatting with Nick and Chris. "I didn't know soon meant in a few seconds." Matt laughs.

"I may have lied about where we were." Her mom laughs, "It's nice seeing you again, Matt."

"You too. I'm Matt." He introduces himself to Gage.

"The one Colby told me to keep an eye on." Gage shakes his hand, "Don't worry, I'm not like him."

"That's nice to know."

"And let's hope you never get like him in that way." Dani speaks up.

The six spend time chatting for a bit till they decide to go to the mall because Dani's mom wanted to go shopping at a certain store. At the mall though everyone splits up a bit but not going too far from each other.

"Ahh!" Dani shouts coving her mouth as she passes a store with an advertisement of her model in the window.

"What?" Gage turns to look but she covers his eyes.

"No, it's too inappropriate for a brother's eyes. Turn around please or you'll want to bleach your eyes." She begs him so he does what she says going to a different store.

"Dude, Chris wants to buy us four a Thing shirt." Matt walks over looking down and Dani leans against the glass putting an arm up trying to hide it even though it was impossible.

As he looks up his eyes automatically go straight to the gigantic poster. His jaw drops as he raises his hand pointing at it.

"I had no idea and I just sent Gage away so he couldn't see it." She sees that he hasn't taken his eyes off the poster, "Stop staring at it." Dani steps forward to smack him.

"Is it possible for you to get a smaller poster of that?" He finally speaks again.

"Matthew!"

"Oh, full naming again." Chris laughs walking over with Nick and Matt rushes to lean against the glass doing what Dani did to try and hide it for them.

Of course it didn't work again and the two just stare at the poster with their mouths wide open as well. They never thought they'd see anything like that of Dani.

"I feel like a baby blue would've looked better on you." Nick thinks about it.

"Can we get those in a regular poster size?" Chris points up at it.

"Christopher!" They all shout at him.

"I didn't mean it in an inappropriate way. I just want to be a supportive friend." He walks off rolling his eyes.

"I'll keep your mom away." Nick sees her coming so he rushes off.

As a group of guys walk by they look at the poster then at Dani which makes Matt glares at them, "Keep walking nothing to see here."

"You want some peanut butter with that jelly?" Dani asks him.

"Shut up. Let's go before I see more people look at you." He grabs her dragging her towards the others.

~

As the four were getting ready to take Nick to get his wisdom teeth removed they heard this noise outside confusing them for a second. "What is that?" Chris asks.

"Trash." Matt repeats over and over rushing to go take it out.

"I know I damn well told y'all!" Dani shouts at him as he was out of sight, "This is why you listen to me!"

When they were in the car on their way Sani could tell Nick was nervous, "You doing okay, Nick?" Dani asks him from the front seat while Chris sat in the back with him, "Don't worry you won't even remember it." She lets him know.

"What is this guy doing?!" Matt starts to yell at another driver in front of him, "Oh my god."

"You good?" Nick asks him.

"Yeah. Helena Keller could've drove better." Matt sighs then changes the subject, "Nick, wisdom teeth is like, umm, the last time you're gonna see the tooth fairy." Matt looks back telling Nick causing him to get emotional.

"Ahh, it's okay buddy." Dani pouts as he cries a bit.

"Nick, that's 80 bucks tonight." Matt laughs.

"I'm so emotional recently."

"It's okay, Nick."

"The tooth fairy is so rich." Dani laughs.

"I wish I had her money." Matt makes her laugh more.

When they get to the office and check in, Dani was recording the fish tank, "I'm a piranha, they're in the Amazon." Dani quotes Finding Nemo.

"Dani." Matt calls her since she was distracted.

"Sorry."

"Who do you like more? Me or Matt?" Chris asks Nick as he was on all the drugs but he shakes his head not going to answer it.

"You look cool now, Nick." Dani says as the dentist puts his sunglasses on him.

"Watch him forget you live with us and he's gonna be surprised." Chris jokes around.

"How do you feel?" Dani films Matt outside the room.

"Good. I really wanted to be there for him because he's been stressing. And I know you talked to him last night." Matt tells her and the viewers.

"How do you feel?" Dani turns around to ask Chris.

"I feel good. I'm happy just seeing the relief he's gonna feel is worth it."

"Hi buddy." Dani films Nick so he raises his hand to slightly wave, "How are you?"

"What time is it?" He asks as they all enter the room.

"It's been like a half hour. They're all gone." Chris lets him know.

Nick looks over at Matt who was filming now and Dani was standing beside him, "Will you two get fucking together." He tells them causing Matt and Chris to lose it laugh and Dani's jaw drops. Matt laughs so hard he gets tears so Chris takes the camera and Matt wipes his eyes, "Am I not supposed to say that?"

"Well, we're gonna have to take that out." Chris keeps laughing.

"Dani still lives with us right?" Nick asks after playing around with sticking his tongue out.

"I still do." She reminds him.

"Okay." He nods his heads.

"Nick, you remember who you are?" Chris asks him to see how much was still in his system.

"I'm Nick."

"Yeah." Chris nods his head.

"I'm Nick. You're Chris." Nick points at himself and then Chris.

"Who am I?" Matt points at himself.

"That's Matt."

"Do you have a favorite?" Chris asks him.

"No." He shakes his head, "I love Dani." He looks over at her.

"Aww, I love you too." She tells him as well.

"Nick, what's the password to leave?" Chris asks but Nick starts to mess with his tongue and gauze so they all tell him no, "You can't do that. What's the password to leave? Do you remember it?" Chris asks him again. so Nick gives him a look, "What is it? Let's hear it."

"Do you wanna know? Skyscraper." He says so they laugh at him.

"Hey Nick, you know me and Matt..." She starts off wanting to mess with him and he gets a big smile, "Are close but you're still my best friend."

"Yeah, she reminds me daily that I can never beat you. I'm stuck in the friend zone." Matt adds.

"Noooooo." Nick whines making them laugh even more, "But you would be cute."

"We can be cute as friends too." Matt tells him.

"Thank you for thinking-,"

Nick cuts her off, "They're getting on my nerves." Nick looks over at Chris.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Jonathan was walking ahead of Nancy and Steve, trying to make their way back to Steve’s car in the heavy fog. Steve couldn't help but smile as he watched Jonathan walk. He had such a specific walk that Steve now knew he found cute. His eyes landed on his backside. Yeah, that was also very cute. Steve was quickly taking it all in stride now that he knew that it wasn't just Nancy he was mad for. He felt curious eyes on him, and he looked at Nancy, who was smiling at him in amusement.

"What?" Steve asked.

"Nothing," Nancy smiled.

"No, it's something," Steve said.

"It just looked like you were checking out my boyfriend's ass," Nancy said.

"Maybe I was. It's cute," Steve shrugged. "Never noticed how cute it was before."

"It is cute," Nancy agreed.

Jonathan spun around so fast that he would have fallen if Steve hadn't caught him. Steve grinned.

"Hey, looks like you've fallen for me," Steve said.

"Get off," Jonathan scoffed, but Steve noticed he was smiling. "I would never."

"You'd be lucky, I'm an excellent cook, so whenever you don't want to cook, I'm your man," Steve winked. "Can't say the same about Nancy."

"Oh, God, she tried to cook for you, too?" Jonathan asked.

"I'm not that bad," Nancy laughed.

"Yes, you are," Jonathan and Steve said before grinning at each other.

"It's the thought that counts, Nance," Steve said.

"I have to agree with Steve on this one," Jonathan said. "You can't be good at everything."

"I can try," Nancy said.

"I also happen to give a mean foot rub," Steve said.

"I can attest to that," Nancy said.

"Are you trying to convince me that it's a great idea to fall for you or remind Nancy why she fell for you?" Jonathan asked with a scowl.

"Who says it can't be both?" Steve asked.

"What?" Jonathan asked in surprise.

"Hey, I found my car! Come on, It'd be a terrible idea to drive in this, but we can wait it out inside my car," Steve said.

Jonathan and Nancy slid into the backseat after putting the bags in the trunk while Steve took the driver's seat. Jonathan leaned forward.

"Both of us?" Jonathan asked.

Steve turned sideways in his seat to look at Jonathan.

"I assume that Nancy told you about my little dream with the RV," Steve said.

"Yeah, she did," Jonathan said.

"Well, a few weeks ago, I had another little dream. It's pretty much the same thing with Nancy there, and we're all loaded in the RV ready to go on an adventure, but there was another added detail that I just didn't want to admit has always been there. It's just as important as Nancy being there. . .you were there, too, Jonathan," Steve said.

"Me?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah, I think you were there for a long time. When Nancy and I were together, I wanted you there, too. I thought it was just me doing it for Nancy, you know, that I wanted you to be my friend so badly that I even tried to invite you to go on dates with us," Steve said.

"I thought you were just messing with me," Jonathan said.

"Yeah, I thought I was, too," Steve said and paused. "I just don't think that I'm ever that lucky to have both Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler fall for me. . .just do me a favor and at least give it some thought before you reject me."

"Uh. . .yeah," Jonathan said softly, sitting back.

There was a long stretch of silence, and then Steve could hear Nancy whispering to Jonathan in the back.

"Well, this is awkward," Steve said as he tapped his fingers on the wheel. "Maybe I should have waited for the fog to lift to say anything."

Jonathan moved forward again.

"So, when Nancy gave you a back rub, did it also always turn into sex?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes! Sometimes a guy just wants a back rub, you know!" Steve exclaimed.

"Excuse me!" Nancy yelled, laughing.

"I know," Jonathan laughed. "What's wrong, Nance? I thought you wanted us to get along."

"Not at my expense, Jonathan!" Nancy said and hit him playfully.

"I just wanted to make it less awkward," he said and Steve laughed.

"Well, it's awkward for me now!" She said.

Jonathan, Nancy, and Steve fell into an easy, playful conversation. Jonathan and Steve continued to team up against Nancy to tease her while she pretended like she wasn't loving it. Eventually, the fog lifted and managed to drive them back to the radio station. They walked into the station with grocery bags in hand and set them on the table by the couch. Joyce and the others spilled into the room.

"Oh, we got back before you did," Joyce said and hugged Jonathan.

"Yeah, your mom was about to send out a search party," Hopper said.

"Oh, we got caught in the fog," Jonathan said.

"That's what I told her," Hopper said. "She kept coming up with awful scenarios."

"Where's Robin?" Steve asked Dustin.

"Bathroom," Dustin said. "How awkward was it - Steve?"

He ignored Dustin, clapping him on his shoulder, and went down the back hallway. He could feel Nancy and Jonathan's eyes on him as he disappeared into the back. Steve followed the hallway all the way to the end and knocked on the bathroom with the special knock he had with Robin.

"Entrevue!" Robin said, and then there was a giggle.

"Doesn't that mean interview?" He heard Vickie ask.

"It does, but it sounds like enter," Robin said.

Steve rolled his eyes affectionately and entered the bathroom. Vickie was sitting on the counter with Robin in between her legs as she braided Robin's hair. Judging by their very pink mouths, they had just been making out. Steve winced.

"I can come back," Steve said.

"We stopped right before you knocked," Robin said. "I know that look, you need to spill your guts. What happened with you, Jonathan, and Nancy? I knew it was going to be awkward. I should have fought harder to go with you. Vickie, my love, you're a beautiful distraction but a distraction none the less."

"You're blaming this on me?" Vickie asked with a giggle.

"Yes, absolutely," Robin said. "It's nice to have someone to blame things on. Let me have it."

"Well," Steve said, closing the door behind him and leaning against the wall. "I told Jonathan that I was just as in love with him as I am with Nancy."

"What?! Why the hell would you do that?! To make it even more uncomfortable than it already is?!" Robin asked, with a shriek.

"I wanted to be honest with him," he explained to her.

"Honest?! Honest with him?! Are you telling me that you're in love with Jonathan Byers?" Robin asked.

"Oh, I see what this is. Are you getting me back for the Tammy Thompson thing?" he asked.

"Tammy Thompson?" Vickie asked, and Robin waved her hand at her dismissively.

"No, this is me asking if you, Steve Harrington, are in love with a man?" she asked.

"Why are you so surprised?" Steve asked. "I told you about my feelings for Jonathan after I had that dream."

"What dream?!" she shrieked.

"Robin, babe, blood pressure," Vickie said and kissed her throat.

"She cares about my health," Robin said as she took a break from her freak out. "She wants to keep me alive."

"Why are you acting so surprised about the dream I had about Jonathan being in the RV with me and Nancy?" Steve asked and then frowned. "I think I might have dreamed about telling you."

Robin ran a hand through her hair, messing up the braids Vickie put in. She took a deep breath as Vickie rubbed her shoulders.

"Alright, so you love Jonathan and Nancy?" Robin asked. "Okay, your poor taste in men aside. . .what did they say?"

"Well, they seemed surprised, but they didn't seem to hate me for the revelation. I just asked them to give it some thought before making any final decisions. So, I have no clue what they think about me wanting to be with both of them," Steve said, looking down at his feet.

"Hey, this could turn out to be a really good thing, you know," Robin said, softly.

"I'm trying not to get my hopes up," Steve replied with a shrug. "But there was this moment, in the car, when we were waiting for the fog to go away, and it was just the three of us. . . It was just really nice and they were both laughing because of me. . .so, even if nothing romantic comes from me being honest with them, I think something good already did. Jonathan certainly doesn't look at me the way he used to, which is good. . ."

"That's a really great way to look at it," Vickie said, beaming. "And welcome to the club."

"Is it a nice club?" Steve asked.

"Oh, yeah, we like to meet twice a month," Vickie said. "And we like to bake. At least, I do!"

"Me, too," Steve grinned.

Vickie hopped off the counter and hugged Steve. Robin let them have their moment before squealing and joining in on the hug. They jumped at the loud banging on the door.

"I don't know what the hell is going on in there, but I've got to piss!" Dustin yelled. "Hello?!"

After that, Steve waited patiently for a response from Jonathan and Nancy. It was too important to rush, he knew, and they both deserved to give it the proper consideration. Meanwhile, they talked, and they didn't stop him from flirting with them. He even thought that they might have been flirting back. It made him absolutely giggle when they both smiled at him at the same time, Nancy's blue eyes twinkling and Jonathan flashing his dimples, dimples that he just wanted to press his thumb into. . . Yeah, okay, he was definitely a freak. Would Jonathan let him do that?

"Jonathan!" Steve yelled.

The three of them had gotten partnered a lot more frequently. Steve wasn't sure if it was random circumstances or if someone was trying to throw them together on purpose. Steve wasn't complaining, especially when they were all three looking after Dustin, who was now possibly starting to pick up on the way Steve looked at the both of them. That's why they were here now, running away from a demogorgon. It always seems like the three of them were running away from those creatures. The woods offered little to no protection, but the demogorgon had cut them off from Steve's car. Now, the thing had separated Jonathan from Steve and Nancy. Steve and Nancy scrambled around the dark for their weapons, but they couldn't wait because the demogorgon had Jonathan trapped underneath him. Steve stood up and ran at the demogorgon, throwing his entire body on top of it, knocking it off Jonathan.

"Steve!" Jonathan yelled.

Steve used everything he had to pin the demogorgon to the ground, but the monster was stronger than he was. Its claws dug into Steve's forearm, and the other one dug into his side. Scraping was the more accurate term. It was still pretty painful. He heard the click of the lighter that Nancy had managed to find, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blaze of fire. As the demogorgon flipped him on his back and opened his face, Nancy jammed the flaming bat into its mouth. The demogorgon screamed, jumping off of Steve, and tried to pull the bat out, but its nails had sunk into its flesh very deep. It ran off, running into the trees as it tried to pull it out.

"Steve!" Nancy and Jonathan screamed.

"Our bat!" Steve yelled.

"I'll make us a new one," Jonathan asked as he wrapped an arm around him, pulling him up.

"What else can you do with your hands?" Steve mumbled.

"Let's get you to the station, and you'll find out," Nancy said and wrapped her arm around his other side.

"Why is it always me?" Steve asked and snorted. "I'm lucky, I guess."

Jonathan and Nancy got Steve into the backseat of his car. They quickly put temporary bandages on his wounds before digging into his pants' pockets to fish out his keys. Just as Nancy slipped in the driver's seat while Jonathan held onto Steve, they heard the sound of the soldiers off in the distance, taking out the demogorgon. Nancy quickly drove off towards the radio station. When they got there, no one else had arrived yet. Steve guessed they were still at the hospital. With their help, Steve pulled off his backpack, jacket, and shirt. They yanked him down onto the couch, grabbing the first aid kit.

"Jesus," Jonathan said.

"Oh, this isn't that bad. You should have seen the bat bites and road rashes during spring break. I don't think I'm going to need stitches," Steve said. "Just stop the bleeding and clean the wound, then wrap it."

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Uh, yeah," Steve said and then he frowned. "Did Robin and I not tell you that we're studying to become paramedics?"

"No," Nancy and Jonathan said.

"Uh, yeah, I figured that since I was getting hurt a lot and we both wanted to find a way to help people," he said. "I'm not even sure that I'm going to get it."

"You're going to do great, man," Jonathan said.

Nancy wrapped Steve's torn shirt around his arm while Jonathan pressed a piece of cloth to his side.

"I can't believe you tackled a demogorgon," Nancy said.

"It was nothing," Steve said.

"Are you seriously being modest about full body tackling a nine foot tall demogorgon? It was impressive, and you know it, asshole," Jonathan said. "I couldn't believe you did that either."

"Couldn't let you die," Steve said.

Jonathan blushed and focused on fixing up his wounds.

"Thank you," Jonathan whispered.

Steve used his free hand to brush Jonathan's hair out of his eyes. He watched as Jonathan's expressions changed as they finished wrapping him up. He looked angry.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked.

Jonathan jumped up and began to pace. Finally, he turned on Steve, his hands on his hips.

"That was completely stupid of you to do that! It was a fucking demogorgon and you went after it like you were playing football! Did you even think about Robin or Dustin or the other kids? You know they care about you?!" Jonathan yelled.

"Like mother, like son, right?" Steve asked Nancy and she snorted.

"Tell me about it," she said.

"Hey! I'm being serious here!" Jonathan yelled.

"I'm getting hints of Hopper now," Steve said.

"Like father, like son," Nancy teased.

"You threw yourself at a demogorgon like it meant nothing. . .like your life meant nothing, and you always do this! I mean, I thought you wanted a future!" Jonathan yelled.

"I do! That's what we're fighting for here," Steve said, bewildered.

"Then act like it! You want the RV, don't you?!" He asked.

"Yeah!"

"I want the RV, too! We want the RV, but we can't have the RV if you're dead!" Jonathan exclaimed.

"What?" Steve asked, looking at him softly.

"I want the RV!" Jonathan yelled, throwing up his hands. "Okay, I want the RV."

Steve and Jonathan stared at each other, Jonathan breathing heavily. Jonathan threw himself onto Steve, pressing him back against the couch. He cupped Steve’s face and crashed his lips to his. Steve responded to the kiss eagerly, running his hands up Jonathan's back and smiling when he felt Nancy's hand join his in tracing a path down Jonathan's spine. Steve broke the kiss, smiling.

"I just want to point out that we can't have the RV without you either," Steve said. "And we're all equally reckless, so I don't know why I'm the one getting yelled at. . ."

"Asshole," Jonathan laughed.

Nancy grabbed Steve’s chin and forced him to look at her.

"You do not have our permission to die, got it?" Nancy asked.

"Got it," Steve laughed.

Nancy kissed him, just as enthusiastically as Jonathan. God. He missed kissing her, and it seemed like she did, too. Their kiss didn't last long before they heard the front door to the radio station bang open loudly. The three of them sprang apart really quickly. The rest of their party all filtered in at once.

"Oh my god! Is that blood?!" Joyce yelled.

"It's not mine, it's Steve’s!" Jonathan said quickly.

"Steve! Why does this keep happening to you?!" Dustin exclaimed.

"He does this to himself," Jonathan said, smiling. "He wouldn't have to do it if it I hadn't needed saving."

"He's fine for someone who full body tackled a nine foot tall demogorgon," Nancy said.

"You tackled a demogorgon?!" Lucas, Mike, and Dustin yelled.

"Yeah, I did do that," Steve said.

"You dingus," Robin said.

"Totally worth it, though," Steve said. "And Jonathan already yelled at me for being reckless."

"Yeah, I thought I heard him yelling," Will grinned.

"Just like his mom," Hopper said. "What was that about an RV?"

"You heard that?" Steve asked.

"It's the only thing we heard. Why does Jonathan want an RV?" Will asked.

"Oh my god! He said he wants the RV?" Robin asked, and then he turned to Jonathan. "You said you wanted the RV?!"

"Yeah, I'm guessing you know what that means?" Jonathan asked with a laugh.

"Yeah, I know what that means!" Robin squealed, jumping up and down. "Vick, he he said he wanted the RV!"

"I heard!" Vickie squealed and started jumping with her girlfriend.

"We both want the RV," Nancy said in amusement.

"They both want the RV!" Robin and Vickie squealed.

"What the hell is this?" Hopper asked.

"Jonathan?" Joyce asked in amusement.

"Oh! I think I know what this is about," Dustin said.

"You do?" Steve asked. "Was I that obvious?"

"Jonathan was so jealous that we stole an RV that he wants to steal one himself," Dustin said, snapping his fingers.

"Jonathan, honey, why do you want to steal an RV?" Joyce asked.

"Yeah, I don't think that's what this is," Hopper said, squinting his eyes at Jonathan. "Son, something you want to tell us?"

"It's nothing bad. We'll tell you later," Jonathan said, blushing. "Let's just get Steve something to eat."

"Yeah, me and Vickie went shopping this time, so you're in luck, Stevie," Robin said.

"Okay, but while we eat, can we please cover up Steve’s tits? No one wants to see that!" Mike exclaimed.

Steve and Jonathan shared a smile with Nancy as Jonathan collapsed on the couch next to Steve. They curled up together as they ate, enjoying the moment of happiness during all this hell. Steve glanced at Jonathan, who was leaning against his arm as he told everyone about how Steve saved him. Oh, how far they've come.

[daisymaycries]

They knew each other at one point and I am simply obsessed with their theoretical dynamic.

[dykedvonte]

A Defense of Benny Gecko

Benny is more of a capable leader and person than people give him credit for.

Seeing as no one challenged his position as head Chairmen for 7 years and even then he only loses the position if he’s caught, killed or forced to leave. Yes, it’s also likely House wouldn’t have allowed him to be killed but he sure as hell would of found a way to remove him if he was causing too much unrest within The Tops power structure. Even Swank and Tommy don’t outright dislike him and more so are concerned with his recent secretive and shady behavior, emphasis on recent.

Taking all we know into consideration, Benny likely knew the future direction that he wanted to take Vegas but was so caught up in the plans to acquire Vegas that he didn’t think of how to make his dream a reality. Something he admits to in canon. I see this being used as the main argument that Benny doesn’t know what he’s doing at all but I see it more in the same vein as you can’t really plan something from nothing. The transformation of Vegas is a sensitive thing that he can’t really work on until he has it. The only reason he ran to the Fort prematurely is the Courier who was causing so much of a stir he would’ve likely been found out much faster, making all that planning for nothing if he didn’t take that chance.

Benny is careful (well a lot more careful than he is regularly depicted in fanon), the Courier being able to trace him was dumb luck on their part and his hair being noticed at the Fort is a realistically small oversight that even Caesar is disappointed in because he admits Benny got farther than he should’ve been allowed by his legionaries. The fact he can plan an ambush on the Courier or tries to quickly and concisely clean up lose ends that don’t lead back to him shows he’s not just acting on impulses or in the moment decisions. Or rather he’s quite good at thinking them out, whether they work depends on how you play really. This is all to say it’s 100% believable that Benny could lead an independent Vegas (house was basically setting him up to do that). If he had known explicitly that House was setting him up to replace him, he likely would’ve bought more time by getting in closer, learning more of the system to then flip House’s edge to his favor. Again something he was doing already but likely without the knowledge of House’s feelings on him personally.

No matter what, Vegas’ future was tied to Benny; House’s plans for him, having to get the chip and if he had somehow succeeded. It’s also interesting that of all the people vying for control of the dam/Vegas, Benny’s plans are the only ones actually oriented towards a new future, not a recreation of something long past.

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Honestly don't know why Williams didn't just take Carlos for the reminder of the season, considering everyone and their mother have had to hear how much James wanted/wants him