#also that i had 1 friend there that actually didn’t ditch me

[melancholicmeowing]

being social last night didn’t go so bad

[videovamptramp]

i’m right over here why can’t you see me?

// your best friend ellie has always known she’s liked girls. you’ve always stood by and watched her chase after girls who don’t really care about her. what ellie doesn’t realize is you’ve been completely and utterly in love with her this entire time. what happens when abby anderson, the captain of the soccer team, proposes you two fake “hookup” in order to get under ellie’s skin? is ellie finally going to see what’s been in front of her this entire time, before the tall charming jock can steal your heart? //

[warnings: angst, pining, jealousy, fuck!girl ellie.]

xxxxx

pt.1

ellie has always been clueless. from the day you met her during your first week of freshman year, she hadn’t realized you were flirting with her. at first it stung; you and ellie had been getting close for two weeks during your first month at university, and she had seen you as nothing more than a really cool friend. you knew you liked ellie as soon as you talked to her. you complimented her iron maiden tee shirt, and you quickly realized you two had more than three classes together. ellie was staying all the way at the end of the girls dormitory, and you were staying in the middle; sharing a room with your roommate dina.

dina and you clicked right away, and it wasn’t long before the three of you were having girls nights together and hanging out. the only problem was, it was so painfully obvious how much you liked ellie. dina would notice how pink your cheeks would get whenever you’d talk to the brunette; or dina would catch you staring at ellie during movie nights. it wasn’t entirely one sided either, whenever dina and ellie would hang out alone, ellie never seemed to shut up about you. she’d always find an excuse to bring you up, and dina wasn’t an idiot. she knew ellie liked you too, the taller girl was just unaware of her own feelings for you.

it wasn’t until ellie started “dating” kelly, one of the girls on the debate team, that dina realized just how stupid ellie williams is.

it was a normal day for you and dina when you saw ellie and kelly together. the blonde was practically sucking ellie’s lips off, and it made you cringe. but it also caused your heart to crack right in your chest. you hadn’t seen ellie with anyone else, and you didn’t expect to, regardless of listening to her talk about how hot kelly was. you didn’t think she’d actually pursue kelly. though as you stop in your tracks to pathetically watch ellie kiss the shorter girl back, you know you were wrong.

“y/n…” dina trails off, and you shake your head, trying to play it cool. “it’s fine. she’s been talking about kelly for months. i saw it coming.” you lie and dina rolls her eyes. “i didn’t even know kelly was into girls.” the raven haired girl responds, as you both continue walking to your next shared class. “well the way she was frenching ellie in the courtyard certainly wasn’t straight.” you mutter.

thoughts of ellie and someone else plague your mind throughout the rest of the day. but you love ellie, even as a friend. so you don’t make it known that you’re hurting. you’re pretty good at acting as if nothing is going on, so there’s really no difference in your behavior towards ellie. you do however, distance yourself a bit until you find out that kelly ditched ellie for mark, one of the english majors. things go back to normal after that pretty quickly; ellie goes back to spending every free moment she has with you, and you unfortunately start crushing on her again. maybe you never stopped. it’s the beginning of a cycle you have when it comes to her.

it’s really not a surprise to you when ellie finds another girlfriend during sophomore year. by now you’ve both been friends for a whole year, and she’s actually one of your favorite people on campus. it also wasn’t a secret that you and ellie were close; most of the time, wherever you were, ellie was and vice versa. even though a part of you had come to the conclusion that ellie would never see you in that way, there was still always that part of you that held out hope. it didn’t help that dina would always tell you how much ellie likes you, how she just doesn’t know it yet.

but right now, as you watch ellie at jesse’s frat party hold angela sanders close, you’re starting to realize how stupid you’ve been. you sigh softly as you swish your cup around, “you do realize this is a party, right?” a soft southern voice asks you, causing you to look up and see abby anderson, the captain of the soccer team. you and abby have been friends since sophomore year started. she’s in your women’s history class, and her essay on women’s equality was moving. since then you and abby have had a few conversations, but never anything too serious.

“i hate things like this.” you admit, finally prying your eyes off of ellie and angela in order to look at abby. “yeah, judging by the way you’ve been glaring at williams all night, i don’t think the parties the reason you’re so down.” abby teases lightly, and you roll your eyes. “i’m not down.” you mutter, and abby raises a brow, clearly not believing you. “and i haven’t been glaring at ellie and her girlfriend.” you add before taking a sip of your drink. abby laughs in a way that you’re sure every girl on campus finds attractive. “i’m sure lying to williams is really easy, but i’m a little more perceptive than that.”

you frown, and abby’s grin deepens. “so you just came over here to tease me about it?” you ask begrudgingly, and abby shakes her head quickly, her eyes widening as she realizes she might be coming off as an asshole right now. “no! i just— fuck, i’ve wanted to say hi to you all night, but i’m clearly blowing it.” abby stumbles over her words, and you feel a small smile tugging at your lips for the first time since you arrived. you roll your eyes playfully, “you could’ve just started with “hey y/n, nice shirt”??” you question a bit, but your tone is light now, and it causes abby’s grin to return as quickly as it disappeared.

“hey y/n, nice shirt.” she greets you in this stupidly cute way that causes your cheeks to flush a bit. “hi abby, thank you, i spent almost an hour picking it out.” you admit and she can’t help but laugh. she glances at your cup and notices it’s nearly empty. “hey, wanna get a drink with me and talk outside? i hate loud music.” abby confesses sheepishly, and the offer is tempting. you hate loud music too, and crowded places. but you promised ellie you’d leave with her. though as you take a quick glance at the brunette, you see a large smile on her face as she enthusiastically nods at whatever angela is saying.

“you know what? that sounds really nice, let’s go.” you admit honestly, and abby’s smile is bright enough to put the sun to shame. what starts as a desperate attempt at fleeing the scene in front of you, turns into you realizing you and abby actually have quite a bit in common. when you first met abby, you thought she was a huge womanizer like every other girl on the soccer team… but the more and more you got to know about her, you realized she was just a polite, awkward woman who was strangely endearing. you find out abby is originally from salt lake city, and has lived a pretty privileged life.

you laugh as abby tells you the name of her horses back home, and she flashes you a charming smile. “i’d love for you to meet them one day. i can definitely show you how to ride!” abby admits, sounding eager. you giggle, feeling slightly buzzed; your cheeks are on fire and you can’t help but notice how big her arms are. you hadn’t ever noticed that before. for a moment you forget ellie even exists as you think about abby ‘hunky’ anderson teaching you how ride. though your mind goes to very sinful places that have nothing to do with a horse. “salt lake city? i’ve never even left my hometown before coming here…” you trail off, and abby nods in agreement.

“same here. i’m terrified of planes, so my dad drove 12 hours just to bring me here.” she admits, and you feel a large smile tugging at the ends of your lips as she blushes sheepishly. she rubs the back of her neck in the most adorably awkward way, “i can’t believe i just admitted that to you. after half an hour.” she grumbles, and you giggle uncontrollably before your phone buzzes in your back pocket. you reach for it, and as soon as the screen lights up, you see you have a missed call from ellie, along with a string of texts.

ellie (11:13 pm): wya??

ellie (11:20 pm): dina said she saw you leave. did you leave early??

ellie (11:25 pm): turned around and you were gone. you good?

“everything okay?” abby asks, and you know you should call ellie back, and tell her you’re still here… but if she thinks you left, what’s the harm in staying a little longer to talk to abby? after all, ellie is more than preoccupied with angela, you doubt she’ll notice you’re still here. you look up at abby and offer her a small smile, “everything’s fine, my friend was just wondering if i left.” you answer simply, before ignoring ellie’s texts and stuffing your phone back into your pocket. “your friend as in… ellie?” abby questions, her voice lacking any malice, in fact she just sounded curious. you nod, and the dark haired blonde raises a brow in amusement. “what has you so hung up on her anyways?” the taller girl asks simply.

you furrow your brows, shrugging. “she’s my best friend. i don’t… it’s not that big of a deal. i had a crush on her at the beginning of freshman year, and i guess i realized i wasn’t her type.” you explain bluntly, and abby makes a face. “not her type?” she questions uncertainly, “you know, popular, pretty, borderline straight.” you mumble and abby throws her head back and laughs. “oh she’s in that phase of lesbianism.” the jock states in a hinting manner, causing you to flash her a puzzled look, “what do you mean?” you sound as confused as you look, and abby thinks you might be the cutest girl she’s ever met. right now she’s actually pretty grateful ellie williams is too much of an idiot to see what’s right in front of her.

because abby saw this as a challenge. a challenge to make you forget all about your little crush on ellie. abby was a very patient person, and she was also committed to something once she wanted it. and if abby anderson wanted something, she stopped at nothing to get it. “every girl who likes girls goes through that stage. you know, falling for a straight girl. thinking you can “turn” a girl. she’s still heavily in that stage of lesbianism.” abby states in a matter of fact manner, making you laugh loudly. “there are stages of lesbianism now?” you ask in between laughs, and she laughs as well. “yeah there is! i can write a whole thesis statement about it.” abby says cockily, and you let out a small little chuckle. your eyes shine with something, and you can’t help but notice how beautiful abby looks under the lit up lamppost.

just as you’re about to respond, ellie’s voice interrupts, causing you to freeze. “y/n! there you are, i thought you left.” the brunette rushes up to you, angela is nowhere in sight but dina is treading a bit behind ellie, obviously trying to keep up with her. “i was just talking to abby.” you say as you gesture over to the taller woman who has a smug look on her face. ellie looks at abby and her face seems to change for a moment, “hey y/n! we’re gonna go get some late night tacos, wanna join?” dina asks, as she approaches you all.

dina is normally a pretty perceptive person, but right now she’s drunk and is absolutely oblivious to the tension in the air between ellie and abby. “um i—“ abby cuts you off before you can even start, “i could always walk you back to your dorm later. if you wanna stay.” she says a bit hopefully, and ellie scoffs. “no way.” the brunette states curtly and you furrow your brows. abby raises a brow a bit challengingly, instead of addressing ellie personally, the honey blonde glances at you, “it’s up to you, y/n.” she says with that charming smile that causes ellie’s jaw to tense. ellie’s eyes flicker to you, and meet yours for a split second before you look back at abby.

“i think i’m gonna stay and hang out with abby. i’m having a nice time.” you say, causing ellie’s heart to sink into her stomach. suddenly the thought of you and abby getting close tonight, and possibly hooking up, causes an uncomfortable sensation in ellie’s gut to build up. “seriously? you think we’re just gonna leave you here with her? alone? no way. what if something happens to you?” ellie asks, raising her voice slightly. you frown, “abby and i have known each other for months now, ells. i appreciate the concern, but i’ll be fine.” you really just want ellie to go, you were having a nice night forgetting all about her and angela.

ellie looks like she’s about to argue, but dina tugs her arm. “come on, dude. y/n is fine. let’s go.” dina slurs, the thought of tacos making her stomach rumble. the brunette glares at her best friend, but allows dina to drag her away. “call me as soon as you get back to your dorm!” ellie demands, you hate that your stomach flutters at the thought of ellie being concerned about you. your gaze lands on abby who has this amused look on her face, “what?” you ask, blushing slightly.

“she’s totally in love with you.” she mumbles, and your eyes widen. you let out a breathless laugh, “what? ellie’s not in love with me. she’s so into angela it’s ridiculous.” you respond, and abby scoffs. “how are you so smart yet so oblivious?” abby inquires, causing you to roll your eyes, swatting her arm. “i’m not oblivious! i’ll have you know i’m actually very perceptive.” you defend yourself, and abby doesn’t look the slightest bit convinced. “really? then don’t call her tonight.” abby challenges, and your face changes; smile falling at the thought of not calling ellie to let her know you go back to your room safely. she’s probably going to be waiting for you to call.

“i— i can’t do that. i have to let her know i’m safe. she’s just worried about me.” you come to your best friends defense, and abby flashes you an expression that says ‘are you serious’. “she was not concerned about your well-being. she was concerned about us hooking up.” abby clarifies, and your cheeks turn a shade of rosy pink at the thought of ellie being bothered by you hooking up with someone else. of course you didn’t plan on hooking up with abby tonight, even if you do think she’s undeniably sexy, you weren’t the type to sleep with somebody to forget about someone else. the thought of using abby didn’t sit right with you. she’s been nothing but nice to you.

“b—but you and me aren’t— i mean… i—“ you begin to stutter in a way that makes a shit-eating grin etch itself onto abby’s lips. she cuts you off before you can make a embarrass yourself. “don’t worry, y/n, i know we’re not hooking up tonight. but ellie clearly doesn’t. you should’ve seen her face. i know that look.” the taller woman states, and you shake your head, still not fully believing ellie is being anything other than a good friend. “what look?” you take the bait, deciding to entertain the idea a little longer. “the jealous girlfriend look. she was staring at me like she wanted to rip my head off.” abby chuckles, and you shake your head, “ellie has a resting bitch face. she always looks like that!” you declare, not sounding as convincing as you wish you did.

“you’re so naive it’s cute.” the tall woman half jokes, and your face feels as though it’s on fire. “even if ellie did have a thing for me… she clearly is too busy with girls like angela to even realize it.” abby hates how genuinely upset you look, and in a fleeting moment, she pathetically offers something that changes her life.

“i mean, we can always pretend to hookup… maybe even more. maybe she just needs to see what she’s been missing.” abby offers, and amusement flickers in your big, wide eyes. “you think that’ll get ellie to admit she likes me?” you ask in a tone so hopeful it causes abby’s heart to lurch. she envies ellie williams in this moment. “jealousy has a way of making people admit things they’d usually never say.” abby says, and she looks down at you; her eyes flittering across your face as she takes in everything that is you. abby doesn’t have many friends here, just manny and nora. she’s had a few girls try to talk to her, but she’s never been able to hold a conversation with anyone for long, until now.

of course the first girl i’m actually interested in, is into williams.

“you’d really help me make ellie jealous?” you ask, a bit uncertainly. abby doesn’t know why, but she thinks she’d do just about anything for you and those big eyes staring up at her. “of course. i mean, how hard could it be?” she asks, and your eyes light up. abby truly didn’t realize just how screwed she was until you wrapped your arms around her waist and squeezed her tightly. “thank you! thank you! thank you! i can’t believe you’re going to help me!” you squeal, turning into this excited schoolgirl that abby hates is all because of ellie fucking williams. abby hugs you back, but she knows by the way her heartbeat quickens due to the smell of your perfume, yup, she’s screwed.

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Pay Attention

Synopsis: The 3 times everyone else knew you and Lando were in love with each other, and the 1 time you two actually admitted it

female driver reader x lando norris

A/N: for this one, reader is 22 and drives for mercedes with george. also, most of the story is told from lando’s pov because this originally started off as an entirely different 3+1 fic, and I don’t have the energy to fix it. and obviously, things like race results, driver lineups, ect will be changed to better fit the story

1-

Lando Norris knows Formula 1 is unpredictable. He knows you can’t tell what will happen during a race, nonetheless a season. But no matter how unpredictable the sport is, this was the most surprising part by far.

It’s barely been 10 years, but Lando feels like he’s known you forever. You two first met at the Karting World Championship in 2014, a race you were teammates with both him and Zhou Guanyu in. Even though he beat you to first place, your 14-year-old-self didn’t let that stop you from becoming best friends with him.

It was hard to keep track of each other when the two of you were traveling all over Europe to compete in different series, so Lando almost thought he’d never get to see you again. Until in 2020, when he heard talks of the most successful female driver yet making her way through the ranks.

Since you were announced as apart of the Mercedes driver line up in the beginning of 2022, you two have been attached at the hip. You both lived in Monaco and whenever you weren’t busy with media or team duties, you were together. Traveling, in the paddock, celebrating races; if you were there, so was Lando.

Fans were used to that fact and they usually expected it off the track, but not for races and track battles, so everyone was a bit surprised when you two placed P3 and P4 in Bahrain.

It was Round 1 of the 2023 season and even though everyone knows your results at Bahrain don’t dictate your entire season, Lando was still excited you were on the podium. He had qualified P6 behind George and yourself in P5 and P4, and with both Fernando’s Aston Martin and both Red Bulls in front of you, you weren’t expected to make it on the top steps.

Though after a few badly timed pit stops, Lando ended the race in P4, 5 seconds behind you in P3. Cheers rung out from around the grandstands as both the Mercedes and McLaren cars crossed the finish line. Your team garages were ecstatic, climbing the fence to meet you at the checkered flag and shouting congratulations through the radio.

Lando watched from behind as you steered your car into perc ferme alongside Max and Sergio and climbed out to celebrate with your team. It wasn’t P1, but it was a huge achievement to place so high so early in the season and it was obvious how proud everyone was of you.

He couldn’t help himself from leaving his car and engulfing you in a hug. You were both laughing and the Brit could practically hear your grin through it.

He couldn’t help himself from leaving his car and engulfing you in a hug. You were both laughing and the Brit could practically hear your grin through it.

“You did amazing! I’m so proud of you” He says, the words muffled through your helmets.

“Thanks, I wish you were gonna be up there with me, you deserve it” you say, looking up to the podium.

Lando smiles and he’s suddenly grateful his helmet is there to hide his blush. “Thanks. Don’t worry though, soon enough we’ll be up there with a 1-2”

“With me P1, I assume?”

Your eyes are playful underneath your helmet, and he laughs. “Yeah, we’ll see. Go celebrate with your team, Y/n. Don’t ditch me for the after party though!” He shouts as you walk over to your post-race interview, starting to laugh.

“I’d never ditch you!” You shout back over your shoulder, your helmet and balaclava coming off to reveal your grin.

Lando leaves to get weighed and meet his team back in the McLaren garage, keeping his head gear on because of the stupid smile he’s all too aware is still on his face. He was supposed to go to the media pen to finish up some race interviews before sitting down for the debrief with McLaren, but you were his best friend; he couldn’t miss your first podium of the season.

Lando, still clad in his orange race suit, arrives just as Max’s national anthem is playing. He probably should be paying at least a bit of attention to the winner, he’s one of Lando’s best mates after all, but then he saw you, grinning on the third step under the many bright lights of the street circuit, and he couldn’t look away.

He watched with his own smile as you opened your bottle of champagne and poured the majority of it on the Red Bull drivers, before downing the rest of it yourself. He’d wait until you came back to street level, where he’d be waiting for another hug and feeling the sticky champagne and bright grin against his neck.

You’d start talking about the race, the moments where you didn’t think you’d make it to the podium and how happy you’d be if you could get another one. You’ll ask about his race and tell him that next weekend, he’d better be up there beside you, no matter what.

And Lando will be next to you, like he always is, smiling and hanging on to every word you say because you’re happy, so he’s happy too.

What Lando would not realize is that each moment, from when he hugged you after you got out of your car to just then when you were walking through the paddock together, had been caught by multiple people, each one thinking the one thing you two had not yet realized.

“They’re so in love with each other”

2-

Lando Norris did not hate the Miami Grand Prix, at least not usually. But this time around, F1’s 2023 stop in Florida is one he could’ve gladly missed.

It was a double header weekend, and after coming off an extremely mediocre P9 finish in Azerbaijan, Lando was less than excited to spend 4 days in the hot sun in an even more mediocre car. There were so many unnecessary media obligations to go with the flashiness of Miami, and by Friday evening he was already looking forward to the flight back home.

The one thing that did brighten his day was you, who he also had dinner plans with after FP2. He let you distract him with whichever details about your life you had neglected to tell him before, let you get him excited for Sunday’s race again, and let you put him in a better mood.

You two were walking from the restaurant to Lando’s car, still talking and laughing as usual, when Lando asked to you come by his hotel after qualifying the next day.

“If both our qualifying are shit, we can get ice cream and mope together,” he posed jokingly, “and if it goes great, we can celebrate together as well”

But then you stop laughing and your tone changes. “Oh, sorry Lando, but I’m going out with Logan after qualifying; he’s gonna show me around Miami a bit. I’m sure he won’t mind if you come though? Do you want to?”

He pauses; Logan? “No it’s fine. I should probably be relaxing after tomorrow anyways, I think the heat’s getting to me a bit. You two have fun, though” He assures you, keeping a light-hearted tone to mask his distaste. 

Logan?

Lando didn’t have anything against Logan, he thought he was a nice guy with a lot of potential. But now he’s taking his best friend away from him and for what reason? You can see Miami any day, any time you want, and if you wanted to, you certainly didn’t need him as your guide.

But fine. Lando does not own you, you’re perfectly allowed to have your own friends, and if you wanted to have an evening out with Logan Sargeant, it was perfectly okay with Lando.

The Brit drove you back to your hotel before setting off to his own, and while you were his best friend and of course, delightful company, he couldn’t help but dwell on the sour taste left in his mouth. He didn’t know why this bothered him so much.

By the time Lando was back in his room, he was too tired to figure it why and decided it was a problem for Future Lando.

He woke up Saturday morning completely forgetting about the events of last night and instead focused on getting the best results possible today. He met up with his trainer for breakfast, left for the track, and joined his PR officer in the McLaren garage. She was escorting Lando to the media pen when he suddenly slowed.

“Lando? What’s wrong?” The woman took note of his tense figure, his hard-set eyes.

All because you were walking away from the media pen with Logan at your side, laughing and looking way too happy for his liking.

He felt the sourness this time. He felt it rise throughout his body and spread like wild fire. His only question was why.

Why were you laughing so much? Why did he feel this way? Why couldn’t he let any of this go? Why were you with Logan and not with him?

“Nothing,” the McLaren drives says. “let’s go” Lando never usually hurries to the media pen, but he didn’t want to look at you and Mr. American boy-next-door any longer.

He was asked questions and he gave answers, Lando just couldn’t tell you what any of them were. This was the problem Past Lando had left for him, and he couldn’t ignore it any longer.

He ruled out anger; he didn’t feel mad, per se, more frustrated than angry. He wasn’t upset; he certainly didn’t feel sad. Possessiveness? He wasn’t usually possessive over his friends though, and you two weren’t dating or anything like that, so there was no real reason to feel protective. Still, Lando couldn’t shake the sourness, and was once again left without answers about you and his feelings.

It wasn’t hard to miss the Brit’s change in attitude, and it wasn’t something his friends were going to ignore.

“Are you okay, mate?” Carlos says, walking alongside him through the paddock after FP3. “You’ve been quiet all day”

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Just tired, I guess” Lando shrugs, not sure if he should tell the Ferrari driver.

“C’mon, you’re seriously not gonna tell me? It’ll make you feel better, trust me” Carlos pushed, and he hesitated before answering.

“I don’t know. I barely know what’s wrong myself” Carlos gives him a look, and he sighs before continuing.

“It’s just weird with Y/n lately. I don’t know but the entire weekend’s just been weird”

“Why? Because she’s hanging out with Logan?”

“How did you-”

“Lando, it’s not that hard to notice, and it’s not that hard to notice why you don’t like it” The Spaniard nudges him, looking at him with a mischievious glint in his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“You like Y/n, so you don’t like her hanging around with Logan” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What’re you talking about? I don’t like Y/n, she’s my best friend, that’s ridiculous” Lando makes a face. That makes no sense, of course I don’t have feelings for Y/n.

“Yeah, and the Haas is going to win tomorrow. Lando, I told you, you can trust me. Just admit it, cabrón”

“Admit what? I don’t like her, I told you that” Lando insists, because he doesn’t. There’s no way.

“Okay mate, whatever you say” Carlos says, putting his hands up in surrender and moving towards the Ferrari garage. “Let me know how that ‘not liking my best friend thing goes’”

Lando just shakes his head and sighs. Carlos has no idea what he’s talking about.

Qualifying turns out to be the thing Lando needs to get his mind off everything; he qualifies P6 with Oscar right behind him and confidence in his car for tomorrow. The man spends some extra time going over the data from today with the strategists and leaves the track just after sunset to head back to his hotel.

He wasn’t completely lying to you yesterday night; the heat was having a bit of an effect on him, and it was probably a good idea to relax and stay in for the night. He ordered something from room service that his trainer would approve of and took a shower before climbing into bed.

A knock on his door is the thing that stops Lando from falling asleep.

It’s past 10, no one should be knocking at his door, but that’s not good enough of a reason to ignore the person, so he gets up to answer it and should probably be more surprised that’s it you.

“Not here to collect team secrets for tomorrow, are you?” Lando questions, jokingly.

“I don’t think we need anymore help beating you McLarens, thank you” You play along with a laugh.

“I’m offended. I hope you have an apology along to go with whatever that it” He gestures to the bag in your hands, and you nod.

“I do, but you’ll have to let me in first to get either” Your best friend moves aside to let you into his room and onto his couch.

“Seriously though, what’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just felt bad for ditching you today and figured I could make up for it with ice cream” You shrugged, opening up the bag and holding a container covered in frost.

“I appreciate the gesture Y/n, but we both know our trainers-” You cut him off. “Would kill us if we eat this, I know. That’s why I only bought one, so we could just share and have half. That way it’s not really eating an ice cream sundae, it’s just eating a scoop and a half��

“I like your thinking”

“That’s why you keep me around” You both smile, and Lando gets up to get two spoons.

“You don’t have to be sorry, by the way. It doesn’t bother me that you went out with Logan” He knows you must’ve felt really guilty, because you’re still wearing the clothes you wore in the paddock, meaning you went immediately from wherever Logan took you to straight to get the ice cream and come here, despite the fact you should be in bed and it would be chaos if someone found out you were here this late Saturday night.

He also knows you wouldn’t do this for just anyone.

“I know. I still felt bad though” You shrug, thanking him before taking a spoonful of ice cream.

“Don’t be. Where’d he take you, anyway?” Lando questions. He knows that if he was talking about this any time else, he feel that sourness all over again. But there was no reason to if you were right here beside him.

“Nowhere special; we just walked around, shopped a bit, and stopped to get some food before we realized we should probably head back to our hotels”

“And aren’t you having the same realization now?” He asks, taking another spoon of ice cream.

“Yeah, but I’m not worried enough to the point where I’m actually gonna do it” You explain, and Lando laughs.

“So what? I’m stuck with you for the rest of the night then?”

“You say it like you don’t totally love the idea” You smile playfully.

“You’re right, I’d rather you here with me than anywhere else”

“Me too” The man misses your soft gaze and love-sick smile.

Truthfully, Lando just likes when you’re with him in general.

3-

It was the Austria GP and for the first time in a while, Lando Norris felt a little carefree. He had over two weeks to recover from Canada, the next round was his home race, and things were looking positive for Sunday. He was happy with racing, and he was happy with you too.

Ever since Miami, you two have been closer than usual; fans were used to seeing you guys always together, but this time, they really never saw you without seeing Lando, and Lando without seeing you. Both of you seemed oddly smiley recently and it didn’t go without notice. Even more than usual, it was like you and Lando were in your own weird little obliviously-in-love bubble that nothing could break through.

Maybe that was why you and Lando finished P4 and P5, each of you one place away from a repeat of Bahrain. It obviously wasn’t your best finishes you two have ever had, but it was good enough for there to be a celebration afterwards. The drivers you and Lando were closest to also finished high in the points, and before you knew it, you had agreed to attending the after-party happening in a few hours at the nearest club.

You put on some makeup, fixed your hair, changed into a beautiful outfit, and stuffed your purse with your essentials before you got a text from Lando telling you that he was outside. You insisted that you could drive yourself and he didn’t need to pick you up, but Lando persisted, saying that it was stupid to bring two cars incase you weren’t fit to drive at the end of the night, and had to leave your very expensive car on the street all night.

“You look gorgeous, it almost makes up for the ridiculous amount of time I’ve spent waiting here for you” Lando says with a smirk as you open the door to his car.

You roll your eyes through your blush. “It wasn’t that long. Besides, my room’s on a high floor, it was the elevator’s fault.” You reason, clicking your seatbelt into place before Lando pulls out of the hotel parking lot and onto the streets.

“Yeah sure, blame the machinery because it’s never your fault you’re late”

“It’s not!” You insist with a laugh. He hums sarcastically in response, turning on the radio and letting it fill the comfortable silence

The streets in front of the club are lined with dozens of high-end cars, so you and Lando are forced to park nearly a block away from the entrance. The bouncer lets the two of you in without hesitation, and even from outside, you can hear the bass from the speakers inside.

The interior is exactly how you expected it to be, colorful strobe lights from overhead, music that you have to shout to hear someone over, and a dance floor that’s packed to the brim with celebrities, drivers, and everyone in between.

You and Lando claim the nearest booth to the exit, and he leans in close enough to be audible. “I’m going to get us a few drinks, try and see if you can find a few people” You nod, and the two of you go off in different directions.

You manage to locate Alex, Lily, George, and Carmen in a booth together and after a few very loud greetings, manage your way through the mob again to find Lando and lead him back to your friends. You all start talking and laughing, placing bets on which drivers are going home with a mystery girl, which ones are going to get black-out drunk, and which ones are going to show off their embarrassingly bad drunk dance moves in front of everyone.

Drinks and shots get handed out, a few more drivers join your table, and soon enough, you and your group are somewhere between tipsy and drunk and are moving onto the already-packed dance floor. Lando moved up to the DJ, telling you he’d be back to dance soon, and left you with your fellow drivers and their girlfriends.

You spend a few hours dancing with the girls, giggling through your drinks, and wandering around the club in search for more friends. At the point where your vision starts to got a bit blurry and the music is making your head hurt, you feel a hand on your shoulder and a familiar voice in your ear.

“Hey stranger!” Lando shouts, turning you around to face him.

“Lando!” You call out loudly, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. “Missed you” Alcohol made you a bit affectionate.

“Only been gone an hour and a half, love” Even though you can’t see his face and you’re not at your sharpest, you know he’s got a dumb smirk on his face.

“Missed you too, though” He says, taking the drink out of your hand and taking a sip before wrapping his hands around your waist.

“Are you here to dance with me?” You pull back, looking into his eyes. His pupils aren’t dilated, so you know he’s sober and the designated driver for the night.

“Wouldn’t want to do anything else” Even though everyone else around you is dancing at a fast, eager pace, you and Lando keep your arms wrapped around each other, bodies swaying softly, heads laying on each other’s shoulders.

Even with the flashing lights and booming music, you probably could’ve drowsed off on your best friends shoulder. You don’t realize how much time has passed but at some point, Lando taps your arm and pulls away from you.

“Time to go home, I think” He says, placing his hands on your shoulders to get you to focus on him.

“You think?” You reply, both drowsy and a little drunk.

“I think so. I’m gonna see if anyone else needs a ride and say goodbye, then we’ll leave, okay?” Lando tells you, intertwining your hands together before leading you further onto the dancefloor.

The Brit finds the other drivers and does what he said before handing you your purse and guiding you out of the club, hands still held together. Your best friend hands you his jacket to wear and places his arm around your waist as the two of you walk back to the car.

You know that Lando will get you back to your hotel and to your room where he’ll take your heels off for you. You know he’ll place a glass of water and a few Aspirins’ on a nightstand for you and lay down underneath the duvet with you because he’s too tired to drive back to his own hotel.

You’ll know you two will fall asleep almost immediately, and wake up closer than you were laying last night. You know Lando will not mind doing any of this, will actually like it, because you don’t let him take care of you as much as he’d like.

You know all of these things and a lot of other stuff too, you just don’t know that the person you did it all with is the person you’re in love with, or that he’s in love with you too.

+ 1

Lando always appreciated the summer break after half a season of racing, but there was something special about this one that made him wish it would never end.

You, Lando, and a group of your mutual friends planned a week-long trip to an island in the Caribbean as ‘one last hurrah’ before you two had to fly to Zandervort for the second half of the season. It was your fourth day on the island, and even though every moment since you arrived has been filled with some sort of fun and exciting adventure, this was already your favorite day of the trip.

You and Lando had connecting rooms, ‘a complete coincidence’ as your friends had put it, and this morning, you two decided to take advantage of it and make breakfast together. You weren’t supposed to meet with the others until a few more hours, and you loved cooking with Lando, so shortly after you woke up you made the short journey into his room.

“Morning,” your best friend greeted you, clad in black sweats and an old T-shirt you’ve seen millions of times. “I bought pancake mix from the store in the lobby, but we can run out and get something else if you like?”

“No, it’s okay,” you insist, “pancakes are fine. Besides, I know you make the best ones.”

“I know, you must be so jealous” Lando smirks, grabbing a mixing bowl and pan from the hotel’s kitchenette cabinet.

“Totally. So what’s on our agenda today?” You say, moving around him to take ingredients from the fridge.

“Not much, actually. I think we’re just going to the beach and walk around the town a bit” You nod as you grab your phone and click on the shared playlist between yourself and Lando.

You let the music fill the comfortable silence as the two of you move around the small kitchen. It’s a beautiful and all-too domestic scene; the morning sun streaming through the windows, the soft music in the background, the way you both seamlessly know your way around the kitchen, how easy it was to work around each other. They’re the facts your mind notices too quickly, and it’s hard to stop your brain from thinking about a future where things could be like this everyday.

Within a few minutes, you each had a reasonably-sized stack of pancakes that you brought outside onto the balcony with you. You settle into the adjacent chairs that look out to the waves crashing onto the beach and deep blue ocean. It’s still early; this part of the island isn’t awake yet, and it’s easy to relax in the still quiet.

While you shooed away the image of the future like this, Lando welcomed it with open arms. He thought how effortless it would be to make a scene like this; a hotel room, an apartment in Monaco, a house in the UK, Lando would take either and all of them. As long as you came with it.

His mouth speaking before his brain can control it. “I wish it was like this forever” He blurts out.

“You don’t want to go back to racing?” You look over at him, eyebrows furrowed. He doesn’t look back at you, keeps his eyes on the view in front of him instead.

“No, I do. I mean-” Lando pauses, thinks it over. He gets up from his chair to lean on the railing, his back facing you. This could ruin everything, he thinks. If he says it, he can’t go back, and nothing will be the same again.

He stops thinking.

“I mean with you. I honestly don’t care where we are; racing, on an island, whatever. We could be on another planet for all I care. As long as it’s just you and me, I think I could handle it” He finishes, feeling your presence next to him a few moments later, your shoulders brushing.

“Really?” You ask, eyes widened. You would’ve never thought he felt the same.

“Really. I’ve always felt that way” Then he’s looking you in that way, the way everyone’s been trying to explain to you for a while.

You don’t second-guess yourself when you put your hands around his face and press your lips onto his, and especially not when he starts moving his lips against yours. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer to him, and you don’t think you’d be mad if this was your forever.

You two finally pull away from each other, and even though the waves on the beach are still the same waves and the ocean is still the same deep blue, you think that everything changed just a little bit.

You’re still so close you could probably count his eyelashes if you wanted to, and you smile.

“I love you”

His smile mirrors yours the second after he hears it. “I love you too”

You two don’t really have to tell people; everyone figures it out within the first five minutes of being around both of you. Everyone teases you relentlessly, but internally, they’re just glad the two of you finally saw what’s been there all along.

i think this is really bad, so if u see it one moment and then don’t the next, it’s because I deleted it. i also never really know how to end these. anyways, a lando fic to make up for the time i’ve been gone. sorry about that btw, i got major imposter syndrome and the lack of f1 content makes for a lack of motivation. this is also my first ln4 fic, and i have no idea what to expect from it. hope u enjoyed tho 🫶

[hoonigiris]

— things we never said

s. jaeyun x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k genre: angst (i think) content: exes!au, mentions of alcohol consumption, aespa's ningning and winter cameos for naming purposes only. normal people inspired. misc. notes: thank you to the jake fuckers (@gluion @mosviqu) for being my motivation to 1) write this drabble and more importantly 2) Finish this drabble. kept you in my thoughts when i wrote this xoxo. also a specific thank you to @sungbeam for being the first person to read it in full. and lastly, a special thank you to paul mescal for being just the perfect amount of pathetic i needed in bbc's miniseries normal people.

synopsis: in which it's heeseung's wedding, jake's had too much to drink, and really, he just misses you. perhaps what happens after are the things he should never say.

jake’s shoes squeeze too tight around his toes.

realistically, through the haze of the alcohol, he knows he should be worried about other things. maybe any other thing, like how he needs to figure out how to get this champagne stain out of his shirt before his company dinner on friday, or how the bass of the dj's last set is still ringing in his ears, or how he's pretty sure this little escapade would probably qualify as date-ditching, considering the way yizhuo has been texting him 'where r u??' for the past twenty minutes.

jake's head buzzes, the aftertaste of his last beer resting firm on his tongue. in retrospect, perhaps the fourth glass he filled right before they cut the cake was one too many, but it’s too late to regret it now. the glass is sitting empty on the table, and instead of being out on the dance floor with the rest of his friends, jake is here—under the gazebo, heart in throat, phone in hand. his thumb hovers over the contact, still saved, and stares for a long time.

he shouldn’t. he knows he shouldn’t.

(not that it really matters. knowing better and doing better are two things jake has never been very good at keeping the same.)

he hits call.

the dial rings and rings and rings. jake can’t tell if he’s breathing or not, he just keeps listening to the endless tinny trilling. and then— 

“hello?”

“hi.” his voice catches. “it’s me.”

you pause, the silence crackling over the speaker. “what’s up?”

jake’s throat goes tight, tongue heavy as he tries to fumble his way around his words. your voice is just like he remembers, intimately close even from the speaker. he wonders what he can say, to make up for the months of not speaking to each other. how are you? how’s work? do you still set 5 alarms in the morning before you have to wake up so you can enjoy the feeling of going back to sleep?

“it’s heeseung’s wedding today,” he says eventually. you didn’t show up.

there’s a beat of silence, before:

“i know,” you reply gently, the silent accusation he doesn’t mean to throw landing softly between the two of you. “i already called him this morning to say congratulations. there’s a wedding gift that should be shipped soon, actually,” you continue, as if it makes your absence any better. “i think he’ll like it, you know. he’s been talking about getting that coffee grinder on his wedding registry before that registry even existed—”

“y/n.”

the line goes completely quiet, like you’re bracing yourself for what he could say next. normally he would leave it be, set down the phone and apologize and go back to the venue to celebrate with the rest of his friends. but right now, jake is drunk, and his head hurts, and all the sounds ring around him and merge together into a single sound, pressed tight against his ear. his chest feels rubbed raw, the burning question flickering and coming out all in a rush. “did you not come because of me?”

“jake,” you chide, almost immediately. he missed the way you say his name, even like this. “you know that’s not it.”

he laughs a little and rubs the back of his neck, feeling scolded. just like old times. “isn’t it?”

there’s a disapproving noise on the other end, like you take offense in him even having doubts. “you know i wish i could have been there.”

jake hesitates, just a little. it’s a stupid thought, and it would be even stupider to say, but he supposes he should keep the streak going, since he’s already started tonight. “you could still come.” 

you let out a small laugh, entertaining the thought. “yeah?”

jake nods, as if you can hear it. maybe you can. maybe you didn’t have to, to know. “yeah, the night is still young. i’m sure everyone would be happy to see you again—you could come right now, if you really wanted to.”

“and do what, exactly?” you tease.

he shrugs, smiling. “give a belated toast? we all gave one, you know.”

“oh, and heeseung agreed to that?”

“as if he could stop us,” jake counters. “we had to make sure the bride knew what she was marrying! one embarrassing story from each of us!”

“and pray tell,” you say, bemused, “what story did you share with the audience? no wait—let me guess.” you hum, as if tapping your chin for the exaggerated effect. “the time he tried to flirt with that senior in the library and fell on his ass because he missed the chair? or the time when—oh! what about when he got drunk and wanted to get matching tattoos with everyone and then started crying the second it started cause it hurt so bad?”

“no, actually,” jake laughs. “sunghoon and jay already took those. mine was about when he accidentally hit on riki’s mom the entire night and found out the morning after.”

“you better have turned those stories into anecdotes about how happy their marriage is going to be,” you warn wryly.

jake waves you off. “sunoo and jungwon got the sentimental part. we were in charge of making sure minjeong knew what she was getting herself into.”

you sigh exasperatedly, something rustling on your end. maybe the papers you were reorganizing on your desk, or the tinfoil on the table as you tried to heat up a late night snack. “so much for adulthood—all you boys are the same.”

the same. as if he wasn’t here and you weren’t there, so, so far away.

“you could still come.” jake repeats. it’s a sobering effect. at least, he’d like to think so, but he’s still trying his hardest for his tongue to not stumble over some words, and he can’t look at the fairy lights adorning the top of the gazebo for too long before his head starts to pound again. 

“you could tell your favorite memory of heeseung to make up for ours,” he continues, “write down your congratulations on the wedding book yourself. they’re even playing your favorite song right now, you could come and show everyone how it’s done.” jake fumbles with the ring on his index finger, twisting it with his thumb. the heel of his shoe scuffs once into the wood below his feet. it’s all too tight. “come—have fun. we could even pretend not to know each other.”

the line goes quiet. a breath drawn. and then, softly, “i would never pretend to not know you, jake.”

he blinks, swallowing hard. it would be funny, if it weren’t so sad, the way jake was the one who called you, yet he’s the one without anything to say. rather, the things he wants to say, he can’t. you would have cried at the vows, he thinks. the exchanging of promises at the altar, rings slipped onto each other’s fingers. you were always soft for those kinds of things. 

(everyone looked at heeseung and minjeong when they said their vows. the words creep up his throat; he pushes them back down. i thought of you instead.)

jake is sure everyone knows, to some degree, at least. it’s why heeseung looked at him a little strange when he saw his date at the entrance, why everyone seemed to avoid mentioning your name like the plague around him. it’s not for lack of trying—moving past you. it’s why he brought yizhuo along in the first place, why he’s been doing everything he can to distract himself, why he’s been trying his best to not think of you again.

but tonight was different. tonight, where all his friends are gathered to celebrate, and the alcohol in his system warms his skin as the evening air grows chilly, and everyone he loves is here within reach except for you, jake finds that he’s still admitting it to himself, even months after.

(i miss you. more words he can’t say to you anymore. i miss you, i miss you, i miss you.)

“sorry,” he says eventually. jake isn’t really sure what for. maybe all of it.

“i…” you start out, but it trails off into silence. maybe it would have been an apology to match, but he thinks you knew it wouldn’t have sounded right either. there wasn’t really anything left to say. jake is here, and you’re there, and that distance isn’t really something either of you can fill anymore.

across the garden, jake can hear his name echoing across the venue. he’s pretty sure it’s sunoo, telling him to get his ass on the dance floor to get down to the dj’s newest rendition of apple bottom jeans, but it all sort of meshes together between the bushes and the trees.

“you should go,” you say lightly. “dance off the rest of the alcohol so you don’t wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow.”

you knew. jake burns a little out of embarrassment, feeling a bit like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. he doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that you could tell he was drunk from the beginning, or the fact that this meant you knew the first person he thought to drunk-dial was you.

“oh, don’t act surprised.” it’s a light-hearted jibe, but jake’s heart crawls up his throat and sits there, thick. “your pronunciation always gets sloppy when you’ve had too many drinks.”

of course you knew. you always did, like he never needed to say anything at all.

“you got me,” he responds, hoarse.

“what did you get this time? whiskey? margaritas? no way you got this drunk off hard seltzers—”

“beer.” sunoo calls his name again, closer, more insistent. “one too many.”

you laugh, and he wants to drown in it a little more, until he remembers it enough to not miss you anymore. “the great jake sim, taken down by an IPA.”

maybe he should thank it, if it got you to speak to him again. the skin sitting underneath his ring burns red. he needs to take off his tie. his shoes are still too tight around his toes. “i wish you were here.” maybe there were some things he needed to say, after all.

you smile, fond. he can’t see it, but there are some things about you he just knows, too. “bye, jake.”

but in the end, this is all there is to it: a him, and a you, and two versions of each other that you both can’t come back to. not anymore.

and that’s something that never needs to be said.

jake looks at the center of the altar, and he thinks he sees a glimpse of something else—the afterimage of love, a vision of two people left stranded from time. it disappears as quickly as it came. his breath hitches. there’s nothing left but this.

“bye, y/n.”

[metalhoops]

// Read Part 1 Here // Read Part 2 Here //

“Can you believe that bullshit, Stevie?” Eddie questioned, from his spot in Steve’s lap. 

The two were together on the Munsons’ beaten-up couch. Steve’s day had dragged on like bare feet in river mud. As far as he could gather, Eddie’s had been the same. The room was hot with the ghost of summer, despite it being mid-March. Eddie’s hair between Steve’s fingers was soft and fizzed. 

“Can I believe that Lucas refused to ditch the championship game for your fantasy club, that could be rescheduled? Yeah,” Steve paraphrased, feeling Eddie sit slightly as he craned his head to get a better look at Steve.

“You’re on his side, aren’t you?” Eddie mumbled, discontent clear in his voice. Steve didn’t like it. He hummed and leaned down to place a chased kiss on Eddie’s lips. 

“You’re not meant to be on his side,” Eddie grumbled, laying back down. 

It was rare that the two disagreed. The disagreement had to be big enough to get a rise out of Steve, but if the situation called for it, he’d put his foot down. 

“It’s a big deal for him,” Steve reasoned, watching Eddie’s jaw clench. 

He’d gotten to know the boy well enough over the past few months. He knew what would come next. If he didn’t act soon, he’d have to sit through a monologue on the sanctity of the game and Lucas’ betrayal at having chosen sports over his friends. Steve didn’t mind the rants. He liked that Eddie was passionate. He did, but Eddie was right. Steve was on Lucas’ side. 

“I know this is a big deal for you, too. Getting to the end of the game or whatever, but can’t you just do it another day? It’d mean the world to the kid,” Steve reasoned. 

He knew by the rounding of Eddie’s shoulders and the elongated groan that escaped his lips that he’d won. 

“Fine, I’ll postpone a week, but you owe me big time. Next date you’re paying.” 

Steve didn’t argue. Hell, he liked paying for Eddie. The guy normally wouldn’t have a bar of it. 

“Wipe that smug smile off your face, Harrington. I get to pick what we do. I’m going to drag you to the loudest concert this side of the Mississippi the first chance I get.” 

Steve nodded, twisting Eddie’s fraying curl between his fingertips.

“In the meantime, I was thinking of heading to the game,” Steve proposed. 

Eddie groaned. He knew Steve too well. He knew what was coming next. 

“You’re going to drag my ass to the basketball game, aren’t you?” 

Eddie sat, switching to the far side of the couch to show his displeasure at the idea. However, he threw his feet in Steve’s lap, so he knew they were okay. 

He thought they were okay. 

“Lucas will want you to be there.”

“You know we can’t actually go together without people talking,” Eddie noted as Steve drove his thumb into the heel of the boy’s foot absentmindedly. 

“I don’t care,” Steve stated. 

He meant it. He’d given up on trying to be Hawkins’ golden boy years before. He just wanted to be the type of person he could live with. 

“Maybe I do,” Eddie spoke, stopping Steve cold. 

Steve worried. He always goddamn worried. Yes, he was waiting for the day he lost someone he cared about to the hell dimension, but it was more than that. He also worried about mundane stuff, like Eddie waking up and deciding they were bullshit. He’d been so sure he and Nancy were in love up until the second she told him they weren’t. That was a blow he wasn’t sure he’d ever heal from. 

He must have gone too quiet, sat stock, still in the growing silence. Eddie sat up and tugged at the hem of Steve’s shirt until he lay down beside him. The two were crushed uncomfortably close, side by side. Eddie’s knee was tucked between Steve’s legs. Eddie touched Steve’s face. It was something only he could get away with. If it were anyone else, he would hate it. 

“Not what I meant,” Eddie spoke, implicitly knowing where Steve’s train of thought had headed. 

“I just meant, I care because I know if any dick head in town had enough brain cells to put two and two together, we’d be screwed,” Eddie began, taking a deep breath. Steve settled back, bracing himself for the monologue. 

“Your parents would kick you out. Then the town would try to run me out with pitchforks. I’m not saying we’ll never... you know. I’m just saying we’ve gotta be smart about it. When I’m done with high school and we save up enough money to have an escape plan for when things go to shit, then we can toss around the idea of going to stupid basketball games together.” Steve sighed but nodded, understanding Eddie’s point of view.

Sometimes Steve got sick of being cautious. He got sick of waiting for other people to change their minds about something that didn’t have anything to do with them. He’d had some good goddamn sense knocked into him. He wished someone would do the same for everyone else. 

“We can hang out after the game. I’ve got something to do first, but I’ll swing around your place after ten.” Eddie proposed. 

Steve didn’t ask what Eddie was doing. If Eddie wanted him to know, he would’ve told him, and despite Steve’s many hang-ups, he trusted Eddie as much as he could trust anyone. 

“Ten works,” Steve agreed. 

The afternoon faded. Steve left Eddie to go to the game. He watched with his gaggle of kids by his side, glancing down at Robin in the marching band when her high school crush took to the stage with a shit-eating grin. He wanted to be there with Eddie, but this was a good consolation. He was sure he’d have bruises on his side by morning from Dustin constantly elbowing him in the side every time Lucas got the ball.

He was so damn proud of Lucas for scoring the winning point. Though Steve would admit, he’d have been proud of the kid if they’d lost by a mile. He was learning what love was about, love without contingencies. Eddie, Robin and the kids were teaching him the lessons he’d never picked up from his parents. 

He got back to his place around nine, took a shower and switched on a mindless T.V. re-run to fill the silence while he waited for Eddie. He was two episodes deep when he felt the familiar sensation of dread begin to well in the pit of his stomach. 

Eddie was two hours late when Steve’s worry shifted to full-blown panic. He tried to tell himself everything was fine, that Eddie got caught up and he’d walk through the door any minute. He picked up his bat from beneath his bed and paced the halls like an animal in an enclosure. 

It was three in the morning when Steve resigned himself to the fact that Eddie wasn’t coming. He called the Munsons at the god-awful hour of the night, hoping beyond hope that Eddie would pick up. He’d be pissed off at Steve for waking him up, but then he’d let him know what was going on. 

He didn’t answer. 

Maybe Steve had read things wrong. Maybe he and Eddie had a fight. They were fighting. That’s why Eddie hadn’t shown up.

He lay in bed until the light of morning thawed his bones and set him free from his wide-eyed, paralytic state of unrest. Instead of heading to work, he drove to the trailer park, swerving the Beamer off the dirt track as the blue lights painted the horizon. There was a swarm of cop cars parked outside Eddie’s trailer. Steve’s body moved of its own accord, rushing through the swarm of cops to find Wayne Munson smoking at the picnic benches, a nearly imperceptible tremor to his fingers. 

Steve didn’t ask what happened. Not right away. His mind was full of worst-case scenarios, none of which could be true until they were spoken into existence. For now, everything was unknown. For now, there was a chance Eddie was safe. He let his legs buckle beneath him as he sat beside Wayne, wondering when he’d made a habit of having panic attacks with Munson men near picnic benches. 

“Was Eddie with you last night?” Wayne asked between drags of the cigarette. 

Steve shook his head. 

Eddie had told Wayne about them. Steve had sat across the breakfast table from the man half a dozen times, but they’d never really talked without Eddie in the room. 

“Was he meant to be?” With a defeated sigh, Steve nodded. 

“What happened?” He asked, at last, tired of drawing out the inevitable. 

“I came home from my shift and there was a body.” All the colour fell from Steve’s face. 

“Not Eddie’s. Some girl. Cops are sayin’ they think he killed her. I reckon we both know that ain’t true.” Steve didn’t know what to do with that information. Eddie was alive. 

He listened to Wayne describe the scene with a growing feeling of dread. He’d seen enough of the Upside Down to understand that an eyeless girl, broken and bent like a marionette puppet and a missing boy seemed like part of its M.O. He was late for work. 

He needed to let Robin and the kids know what was going on. He skirted past the police and drove to the video store. His body was working on autopilot. To his surprise, Dustin and Max were already there. 

He watched as a disgruntled Robin tried to shoo them from behind the register. Steve cleared his throat, hoping beyond hope that the kids didn’t notice the red rim of his eyes as he placed his hands on his hips. 

“What the hell are you two doing? Shouldn’t you be at school?” He tried to play it off like it was any other day, as though he was fine. Robin’s watchful eyes let him know she saw right through him. 

“We’re looking for places Eddie could hide.” Dustin breathed, stopping Steve in his tracks. He shut up and let them explain. 

“We were thinking he could be at Reefer Rick’s place,” Max supplied after Dustin finished his tangent. Steve remained uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Alright, well, quick. Get your shit, if we’re doing this.” Steve grumbled, sliding off his video store vest and leaving it on the counter. Eddie wasn’t dead. That was something.

“That’s great and all, Steve, but we still don’t know where the hell we’re going,” Dustin argued at Steve’s heels as the four rushed out into the parking lot. 

“I know where he lives,” Steve supplied, catching the disbelieving look shared between Max and Dustin. He hadn’t told the kids about him and Eddie. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. It was complicated. Everything about him and Eddie felt complicated. He didn’t want them to be a secret, but it was a necessity to keep them both safe, to keep Eddie safe. He’d told Robin because he knew she was safe. She was an extension of himself. He couldn’t not tell Robin, but the rest of the party was still in the dark. 

“I didn’t think you did drugs, Steve,” Dustin spoke sceptically as they piled into the car. 

“I don’t do drugs... Put on your seatbelt, Henderson.” 

“Then why do you know where a notorious drug dealer lives?” Dustin pushed. 

“Seriously, kid. I’m not backing out until you’re buckled in,” Steve warned. Now was not the time to get a D.A.R.E. presentation. 

“Steve, should I be worried?” Dustin asked as Max spoke up,

“Of course he does drugs. He’s at Eddie’s place all the time.” 

Both Steve and Robin turned back to look at the girl with wide eyes. Of course, Steve should’ve realised Max saw his BMW parked outside the Munsons’ trailer. He hadn’t been thinking. 

“What? I wasn’t going to say anything because we’re all going through shit,” Max elaborated as Dustin shot her a look of utter betrayal. 

“I didn’t think you guys were... friendly. I didn’t think you liked him,” Dustin gaped, finally buckling up. 

Steve tried to drive carefully, keeping his eyes on the road and the car under the speed limit, only sometimes succeeding. 

“What makes you think I don’t like Eddie?” Steve asked, trying to keep his mind off the very real potential that Eddie had just been dragged into the world he’d never wanted him to be a part of. 

Eddie kept trying to push for answers about what happened to Steve. He kept promising he’d give them to him when the time was right, but he could never bring himself to do it. Sometimes the best thing was to remain ignorant. All the same, Steve couldn’t lie to him either, so they’d remained in limbo. 

“You always drop me off at Hellfire, but you never say ‘hi’ to the guy." 

“I wave at him,” Steve reasoned. 

“From the car, Steve. It’s antisocial.” 

It wasn’t long before the group pulled up outside of Rick’s. Steve knew where Eddie would hide if he were there. He led the group to the boathouse, searching the place for any sign of the boy. That led to Steve blindly poking around in the dark with an ore and an odd sense of hope. All of which was thrown out the window the second a body sprung up from the darkness to shove him against a wall. 

It happened too quickly for Steve to process. There was a weight holding him in place and a sharp pressure at his throat. It wasn’t until Dustin’s calls that Steve made out Eddie’s body in the dim light. 

“Woah, Eddie. It’s me. It’s Dustin,” the kid called from behind them. 

The rest of the world fell away as he met Eddie’s wide, panicked eyes. He was safe. Scared as hell, but safe. The broken bottle Eddie held at his throat dropped from his hand in an instant, as did the ore from Steve’s grasp. 

“It’s Steve, Eddie.” 

Recognition flashed across Eddie’s face and suddenly Steve was being crushed again, this time under the weight of Eddie’s arms. The boy clung onto Steve as a drowning man would cling to driftwood. He buried his face into the nape of Steve’s neck and inhaled deeply. Steve could feel Eddie’s heart pounding against his chest. He snaked a hand around to hold the back of Eddie’s neck, forcing the boy to look at him. 

“Hey. You’re okay. Just breathe with me for a second, alright?” Steve spoke, echoing Eddie’s words from the first night the two had gotten together. He watched as the rapid rise and fall of Eddie’s chest slowed. 

“That’s it,” Steve soothed. 

“Stevie,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. 

“M’sorry I didn’t... I couldn’t go to your place, Steve. I wanted to,” Eddie continued, his hand having moved to grasp the fabric of Steve’s shirt. 

“I didn’t... I didn’t know if it’d follow me. I don’t know what the hell happened, I... you won’t believe me,” He finished at last, resting his forehead against Steve’s. 

It was slick with sweat but Steve didn’t care. The others in the room had fallen away entirely. There was only Eddie. 

“I think I should probably talk to you about that thing we keep meaning to talk about,” Steve breathed, drawing circles in Eddie’s skin. 

“Why now?” The boy asked, disbelievingly, a hysterical laugh slipping from his lips.

“Because no matter how crazy what you’re going to tell me sounds, I believe you.” 

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell is going on? I thought you two hated each other,” Dustin called, shattering the moment between them. 

They pulled apart, though Eddie still kept his hand laced in Steve’s shirt while his hand migrated to the middle of Eddie’s back. 

“Why would I hate my boyfriend?” Eddie breathed, clearly not thinking, hopped up on adrenaline. 

“You’re what?” Dustin spoke, gawking open-mouthed at the boys. 

Steve inhaled deeply, squeezed Eddie’s hip and levelled Dustin with his best, unimpressed glare, practically daring him to push on. 

“That makes more sense,” Max muttered to herself as Dustin’s eyes continued to flicker between the two. 

“Shut your mouth, Henderson. You’ll catch flies. We’ve got more pressing issues here,” Steve muttered, trying to work out how exactly he could explain everything to Eddie. 

“I thought you were secretly dating Robin, not Eddie. What the hell, man? Neither of you told me,” Dustin pushed forward while Robin snorted, her nose scrunching at the idea. 

“Really not the time, Henderson,” Eddie confirmed, his fingers worrying away at Steve’s shirt. 

“That’s not fair. You’re not meant to be on his side, dude,” Dustin remarked. 

“Can we all just focus for two seconds? Eddie, what happened last night at your trailer?” Steve questioned, somehow managing to wrangle the group back to the task at hand. 

Steve knew by Eddie’s deep breath and trembling fingers what he was about to say. The world Steve had tried to protect the boy from had come to find him anyway. Now all Steve would do was be there to hold his hand as they walked through whatever hell the Upside Down had to offer.

Steve would keep him safe. Steve would always keep Eddie safe, no matter what.  

[skellseerwriting]

What is Love? (Baby Don’t Hurt Me)

Love Clueless!Morgie x GN!Reader Part 2/2

Thank you anon for the wonderful ask! I never would have come up with this on my own. Here’s part 2!

Part 1

Word Count: 1,834

Warnings: slight angst, happy ending, fluff, Morgie is happy, brief heart brokenness, physical affection, Morgie learns what love is

Summary: You decide to teach Morgie the five love languages. Unfortunately for the both of you, you are quickly falling in love. You, however, don’t think he knows what that means

Part 1: Quality time

After you had named off each love language, you needed to decide which one you wanted to start with.

Physical touch? Your face felt a little warm at the thought. Too soon for that.

Gift giving maybe? Probably too difficult right now since you barely knew Morgie. So maybe you could get to know him through quality time!

You did a little, internal, happy dance at the quick thinking. It was perfect. All it really was is hanging out and getting to know each other better. You could do that.

So after explaining that to Morgie, he simply stated “How do we do that? Just talk about things we like?”

“Yes, exactly. You’re getting the hang of it.” You gleamed. “Many friends become friends through shared interests; things they both like.”

“Oh.” Was all he said, then added. “Do we have to like the same things?”

You try not to let out a snort, and spectacularly fail.

“Of course not. That’d be boring!” He looked confused again.

“Okay, okay.” You said, prepared to explain things once again to him. “Imagine you walk into school, and everyone is wearing your clothes.” He frowns. “Now imagine instead of everyone going to class, they all ditch it just like you. They’re all hanging out in your usual spot.” His frown turned into a peeved expression.

“That’s annoying.”

“Exactly!” You tell him. “And when you go to lunch, everyone takes that favorite food of yours because they all like it, leaving none for you!”

He actually started growling at that, like a dog. You scooched back a little.

“They better not.” His lip curls up. “That chocolate tuna bread is mine.”

Your lips also curled up a bit, for an entirely different reason. This boy was so charming (not to be confused with the actual charming).

“See?” You pointed out. “That’s why it’s good that we all like different things. You’re learning already.” He nodded with a grin, finally understanding. Even though it was just one small step, it made you so happy that he seemed to be enjoying this.

You think you were going to really enjoy hanging out with him.

Part 2: Acts of Service

The next morning, when you told Morgie the next love language you’d be doing, he made a face.

“Service? Like helping out at an orphanage?” You suppressed a giggle.

“That is a form of service.” You told him, clasping your hands together with your pointer fingers sticking out. “However it’s not necessarily service service. It’s helping someone out, no matter how small. Picking up someone’s pen for them when they drop it, for example.”

“Or holding the door open, right?” He said with a happy look and something knowing in his eyes.

“Exactly! Good job” You praised, not entirely understanding his implication with that. “So, today, I want you to be on the look out to help anyone in need.” He stuck out his lower lip.

“I thought this was just going to be between you and me.” He pouted. You tried to ignore the little stutter in your heart from thinking about Morgie only wanting to spend time with you. That’s not what he means, you thought, so stop it.

You hide your thoughts with a smile.

“Most of it will be, but it’s not something that can be done a bunch in one sitting. Plus we have school, so you won’t see me a whole bunch.”

After a moment, he goes “Can we eat lunch together”? That threw you for a loop. Together?

“Erm, what about your friends, Morgie?” You ask uncertainly. His eyes widened.

“Oh, I guess I didn’t think about that.”

“It’s fine. You can meet me here after school.”

You didn’t end up waiting until after school.

Squealing, you open the door to let Morgie in.

“Did you see her face!”

“Yeah, that was priceless!” He jeered, walking in with squeaky footsteps. “I didn’t realize she didn’t hear me right behind her. When she turned around…” he let out a loud laugh, shaking his sopping wet hair like a dog. You brought your arms up to cover your face.

“Easy! Don’t get me wet too!”

He didn’t listen, going on with “When she dropped all her stuff, I didn’t even see the fountain right behind me. I think the universe is trying to get back at me for being good!”

He slipped of his shoes, reaching for the towel you handed him. Your dorm was a lot closer, so the moment he got pushed from surprise into the fountain, you went to help him.

“Or maybe it’s to even out all the good luck I’ve been having.” He added, closing one eye.

“What good luck?”

“Meeting you!” He answered cheerfully. You felt yourself flush at that. He didn’t mean it like that, you reminded yourself again.

“Don’t worry,” he cut through your thoughts. “I’m not going to let that stop me from acts of service.”

“Thank goodness.” You in a joking tone. “You’re getting really good at this, Morgie.” He perked up at the compliment.

You’re getting too good, you thought sorrowfully, hoping this all didn’t end too soon. You would absolutely hate that.

Part 3: Gift Giving

Smiling giddily to yourself, you held the gift in your hand as you approached Morgie’s dorm. Not wanting to put too much pressure for gift giving, you decided that you two should just give each other one gift. You weren’t too worried, thinking he might like whatever you get him. But simultaneously worried he wouldn’t like it enough from you. Still, you were quite confident that what you currently held was quite nice, so you tried not to think about it.

After a knock and being let in, you gave yourself a moment to look around the room to see how it was decorated. Silken scarves of greens and gold shimmered across the walls and even on the ceiling. A couple of books were set on a shelf, one of which was titled Different Dog Sounds. You smiled and moved on, seeing a clothes rack with clothing not unlike what he was currently wearing. What could Morgie say: He liked nice clothes.

He sat at the end of his bed, and so did you after a moment of hesitation. You cleared your throat, then held up your offering.

“This is my gift to you. I hope you like it.” As he eyed the gift, you looked at him nervously. It was a silky scarf of gold color with black lines waving through it. He already wore thin scarfs like this, but you were positive he didn’t have one like it. What if he didn’t like-

“I love it!” He beamed, picking it up gently.

“I- you do?”

“Yeah!” He told you. “Would you put it on me?”

That was an unexpected request, but you did it anyway. Picking it back up from his hands, you brought it around his neck. His eyes were on yours, and that was hard to ignore to focus on your task. Then, you realized you weren’t sure how he usually tied his. After looking at him with uncertainty, he recognized the problem and took your hands into his own. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his warm fingers guiding yours where to move the scarf, creating a loop and pulling the other end through.

His gaze never left yours; doing it all from muscle memory. It was near impossible to not let your hands freeze up until it was finished. Looking at you a moment longer than you thought made sense, he reached behind himself to grab what you could only assume to be your gift.

“I hope you like it.” He whispered, still looking at you. You broke away first, seeing what he held in his outstretched palm. It was a tiny little snake made out of clay, with a wiggly line body painted green. It wasn’t the most professionally made by any means. But upon recognizing he made this for you, you found its weight worth in gold.

“It beautiful.” You said softly, noticing its asymmetrical black dot eyes.

He moved to set it in your hand as you reached out to grab it, only for it to miss its destination and tumble off the bed and straight onto the floor.

“No!” You both cried, immediately sliding off the bed. Morgie held up the little thing. It was now broken into two pieces, right through the middle.

Seeing tears starting to form in his eyes, you grabbed the half with the head and said lightly “Hey, we can share it.”

He let out a little sniffle. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I get half and you get half.”

He smiled at that wistfully. “Like a friendship necklace.”

“Mhm,” you smiled back. “Just like a friendship necklace.”

A small part of your heart thought about maybe more than just friends, but you dismissed your feelings once again. Morgie looked at lower half of the clay snake in amazement, and you couldn’t help but silently wish he would look at you that way.

Part 4: Words of Affirmation

“So… does it involve speaking?”

“Yep! You use words.”

“What… kind of words?”

You gave him a loving look. You didn’t know what it was about him sometimes being a little slow, but it was incredibly endearing. When he didn’t get it, he would look at you with a question in his eyes; relying on you to help him. You shouldn’t have enjoyed it as much as you did.

“Anything that is uplifting really, with more of a focus on compliments.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, like telling you you’re cute?”

You did a double take at that. Flames licked at your cheeks as air slowly compressed out of your lungs.

“W-well yes.” You stuttered, clearing your throat. “But that kind of comment is usually used by people who are dating, or want to date said person.”

Morgie sat on that for a second, while also sitting on your bed. His lips were pressed into his mouth, suddenly lost in thought. Finally, he looked at you again with a grin.

“Okay.” Was all he said.

What was that about? You tried not to dwell on it, or on the fact that your statement technically implied he wanted to date you when you knew it wasn’t true.

“I think you’re clothes look really nice.” You complimented Morgie, hoping to distract yourself from him by distracting yourself with him.

“Really?” He perked up like a dog. “Thanks! I really like all the little things you collect.” He looked at the aforementioned items as he said so.

“Thank you. It’s pretty effortless actually, I just keep the things people give me.” You waved him off, trying not to let every little compliment turn you into a mess. His eyes still scanned the shelves on the wall, looking for something.

“Where’s the-“ He cut himself off as he spotted it. On the nightstand, right next to where you lay your head at night, was the half snake. Your face went ablaze again as you resisted the urge to grab it and hide it; he already saw it.

“You keep it next to you?” He said in such a quiet, happy tone that your heart melted. All you could manage was a tiny nod. He gazed at you with a look you recognized in others, but you knew that it didn’t count with him; he still didn’t understand the feeling.

“So,” he began lightly. “Is your receiving love language gift giving?” You nod again at him.

“And quality time. I really enjoy that.”

“Yeah, I think I caught onto that. You know, since you enjoy hanging at with me so much.” Was that a flirtatious remark?

He smiled at you innocently.

“Well for you… I’m not entirely sure since we’re still only on number four.”

“I think I like receiving words of affirmation.” He told you.

“Really?”

“Yeah, whenever you tell me how good I’m doing.” he said, averting his gaze. “It feels like there are happy bugs in my stomach.”

You didn’t know what to make of that.

“Well, what can I say?” You said. “It’s my giving language. Acts of service too.”

He nodded. “I think that’s why I’ve been struggling recently with my friends. None of them really give me affirmation, except for Uliana. But it’s usually because she needs me to do something.”

“So you think that’s her giving language.” you asked.

“Yeah, and for receiving I think it’s the same, along with acts of service. To bad it tends to be forceful. I love doing it anyways though.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, before he picked back up again.

“Hook’s is gift giving. He’ll steal food for us; sometimes little trinkets or apparel. Like the scarf I’m wearing right now.” He looked a little happy as he recalled the memory. “He doesn’t prefer gifts for himself though, since he can steal what he wants. I think that’s why he likes to throw his arm over mine and vice versa; he can’t steal affection.” His little smile began to grow. “Hades and Mali prefer quality time. Silence with the people they care about; giving and receiving. Hades also appreciates it when I help him out with stuff.” He took a pause with a breath, then looked at you. “I know they’re my friends, but I love them like family. That’s what it is, right? Your family is the people closest to you; who mean the most to you.”

And what about me, you wanted to ask. What do I mean to you?

“Whereas romantic feelings-“ He paused, uncertainty written all over his face. He leaned several inches into your personal space. He glanced down for a moment before whispering, “they’re the one you- the one you care most f-“

You jumped away and off the bed. Immediately you regretted the look of pain he adorned. You caused that.

But no, it couldn’t be. You refused to believe it. He was just confused, you told yourself, he still didn’t understand; despite what he was just saying.

He called your name.

“Yes?”

“Did I do something wrong?” His voice broke.

“No, Morgie, you did nothing wrong, I promise, I-“ You had to get out of here. You needed to get out of here.

You did just that.

And just like that, you were both brokenhearted.

Part 5: Physical Touch

You hadn’t seen each other for a few days after you had left your dorm. Or rather, you were doing everything in your power to avoid Morgie.

It hurt. It really did. Whenever you saw Morgie he looked just as bad, if not worse. But it must have been for a different reason. There’s no way it was because he also had feelings for you. There’s no way.

It was all for the best, you told yourself. You did what you could, he seemed to understand love enough on his own now; just not enough to know that what he felt towards you was love. That you were sure of.

But no matter how much you told yourself that, it never made the pain go away. It began to fester.

It creeped into your mind like a infection, flaring up at the thought of him. And you really did like thinking of him. It brought daggers to your chest. And when you left him that night, it was a particularly cold, jagged knife that plunged into your heart. It twisted itself before being yanked out, leaving an open wound with hot liquid pouring out of your eyes.

You wanted it to stop. You wanted him. But you knew it was all just a fantasy from the moment he first stepped into your dorm room.

After school ended for the day, you went back to your room to cry again, wondering when the tears would finally dry out.

You heard a knock at the door.

You ignored it.

Whoever it was knocked again even louder. And so you decided that confrontation was the best exterminator. But you didn’t expect to see the one who was so insistent on seeing you.

It was Morgie.

You went to close the door, but he placed his arm in the way.

“What do you want, Morgie.” You sighed, tired. Tired of having to deal with all these feelings. If love was so great, then why did it cause so much pain?

“I-“ he started, trying to get the words out of his mouth. His face looked so open; so vulnerable. “Can we finish our lessons?” He ended on a high pitch.

“What?”

“Our lessons,” he stated plainly, albeit nervously. “We never got to our last one.”

Why was he doing this? Could it be possible that he actually-

“And?” You cut off your own thoughts. “You seem to have learned enough.”

He seemed frozen. “I just-“ he sighed. “Look, can we do our last language? Then you’ll never have to see me again.”

Never again? That hurt to hear. But that’s what you wanted anyways right?

“Alright.” You told him, opening your door farther. He immediately walked in and went to sit with his legs folded on your bed. Huh, you had forgotten how used to that you both were.

Fanning away the intruding thoughts of the fun times you had together before it all went to moot, you went to join him.

“So,” you said dryly, sitting on your knees in a lounging position. “How do you plan to go about this.”

He said nothing. Moving silently, he unwrapped something from around his neck. After gingerly pressing whatever it was to the corner of your eye, you caught the metallic look to it. The rich yellow color. The black waves that reminded you too much of the tears he was actively drying.

“Like this.” He said softly, moving to dry the other eye. When had he become so affectionate? You placed your hand on his wrist to stop him. He let you.

“Morgie, what is this?”

His face looked slightly flushed.

“Physical Touch.” Was all he said, carefully removing your halting hand. He didn’t let go, however, as he continued to dry your tears. Instead, he laced your fingers together. And while a teeny tiny part of you wanted to pull away, the rest of you decided to lean into him.

“This is nice.” You murmured, forgetting why you avoided him in the first place.

“Yeah?” He responded, replacing the scarf with his open palm. His fingers caressed your eyelids with a feather-like touch not unlike what he had done to your little knickknacks a week ago. How had you ever lived without feeling the touch of this beautiful boy?

After a little while, you both resorted to a cozy embrace; arms around each other.

“Morgie?” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He mumbled back adjacently. You pulled back to look him the the eyes, closer than you had ever been. You decided to tell him the truth.

“I’m sorry I ran out. I’m sorry I hurt you. The reason I did that was because I fell in love with you, and I didn’t want to take advantage of you because I didn’t think you could feel the same.”

All he did was give you an aloof, silly little smile.

“That’s great,” he said, touching your foreheads together. “Because I love you too.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

“Well,” you smiled toothily. “There’s one form of physical touch that’s common for people who feel that way.”

He smiled back, understanding you perfectly.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

You didn’t wait another second.

[ghostwritermia]

Ok here’s a no pressure oneshot request if it inspires you:

Your class is allowed to pick their own partners for a paired project and James Potter *insists* he’s yours and you argue with him a bit because you don’t trust him to take it seriously.

But then you end up partnering with him and he ends up making it fun and he actually knows what he’s doing!

Pairing ~ James Potter x hufflepuff!reader, platonic!remus x hufflepuff!reader

Word Count ~ 1, 032

Summary ~ You're not the biggest fan of the idea, but you get a new partner in Herbology, your favorite class

Warnings ~ Beginner writing skills, fluff, unedited because I'm lazy...banter?

Note From Mia ~ I hope you enjoy, but I'm not very confident in my writing yet, so, we'll see where this goes, I guess, I also wasn't 100% sure how to end it, so I hope it was okay. ALSO, THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING, I LOVE YOU! <3

Herbology has always been your favorite class. And however stereotypical it sounds, it just was. You grew up in a household where your father had been a Ravenclaw and your mother, a Hufflepuff. That being said, you grew up with your nose stuck in a book, playing games of wizarding chess with your father, and gardening and baking sweets with your mum.

Naturally, out of all the classes, you were drawn to Herbology. It was one of the subjects that just clicked into place. And it didn’t seem to hurt that Professor Sprout had always been fond of you, and you of her.

You enjoyed the smell of the various plants and soil, and the sun and warmth emitting in the Greenhouses. Everything to do with it was simply second nature to you, having helped your mum open up her own floral shop.

You were currently on your way to the Greenhouses for Herbology when Remus caught up to you. Remus and you had bonded in your Third Year when he had asked for assistance in the very class you both were on your way to. 

The two of you had always had a quiet, relaxed bond. You were comfortable sitting in silence, but liked to lean on each other when it was needed. You also made him homemade chocolate every full moon, so that was a plus for him.

Remus had always tried to introduce you to James and Sirius, but even though a Hufflepuff, you tended to be more introverted. That trait came from your father. You liked to stick to your inner circle of friends: Remus, Regulus, and Pandora.

“Rem, what am I going to do?” You broke the silence, seeing the Greenhouses appear in the horizon.

“About what?” He asks, tilting his head, looking down at you. 

You sigh before responding, “I don’t have a partner this year.” You look down. “Ember, decided that she would ditch me and find a group of Ravenclaws to be her friends, instead. But did she really not realize that I’m just as smart as them? I was raised by a Ravenclaw!”

At the end of last year, your friend of three years had decided that she wanted to branch out and make new friends; which you completely supported, well, until she decided to leave you completely.

Remus came to a halt and grabbed your shoulders, stopping you and turning you to face him. “You don’t need her. She clearly wasn’t a good friend and you are better off without her.” He drops his hands from your shoulders before continuing. “Plus, I know the perfect person to be your partner,” The fawn-haired boy smirks before striding away, leaving you to catch up.

“Remus,” You grumble, sprinting to catch up to his long strides. When you're finally back to his side, he glances at you, smirking.

“Your hair is messed up now.”

You simply ignore him, flipping him off before walking into the Greenhouse, shutting the door in his face. You hear him laugh and roll your eyes before heading over to your workbench.

Professor Sprout makes her presence known by telling everyone to pull out their textbooks, and to find a partner. 

You ignore the latter and grab your book from the bottom shelf of your bench, wanting to leave worrying about the partner situation until last. However, someone seems to have other plans because when you look up it seems that you already have a partner. Or at least someone thinks so. You disagree completely; and you show that perfectly with the glare you send Remus’s way.

You sigh, “What do you want, James?”

“Why to be your partner of course.” He quips, not leaving room for much discussion.

However, you have different plans. “Yeah, sorry, but not happening.”

“Why?”

“James. I like this class. I take it seriously. Do you?” You question, while flipping open your textbook to the chapter that introduces everything that needs to be known about the Deadly Nightshade: Belladonna, which everyone was instructed to do so by Sprout.

“I take all my classes seriously.” He answers, pushing his glasses up from where they had slipped. You give him an unsure glance, but don’t argue any further.

“An easy week, this time around, students,” Sprout starts. “You’ll simply be reading and taking notes on Belladonna. If you haven’t already flipped your books open to page eighty-four.” She waves her hand in dismissal for students to start.

“Would you like to take notes, or read the text?” James asks politely.

“I really don’t mind either,” You answer politely. A trait from your mother? Indecisiveness and people pleasing. The latter being a trait you were unaware of James sharing with you.

“How about I read a page and you take notes on it, and then we switch?” He compromises. 

“Sounds like a plan,” You smile, pulling out a parchment and quill.

James reads the first page out loud easily, while you scribble out information that sounds both important and then intriguing. 

After that you switch, and that continues until the last page of the chapter where it landed with you reading. You slowed down to make sure you weren’t going too fast and glanced over to James who was writing neatly and at a speed of which you didn’t know how he managed.

His glasses slipped down his nose in the process and you giggled, causing him to snap his head up. “What?” He asks obliviously.

“Nothing,” You assure, fixing his glasses for him before he even realizes it happened himself. 

A blush spreads across his face and he looks back down at the parchment, continuing writing, mumbling, “I was wondering why the words were getting blurry.”

You laugh before continuing reading.

Across the class Remus has a smug smile and Sirius notices his pause in reading and looks up curiously. “Moony. You stopped reading.”

Remus looked down, then to Sirius. “Oh I know, but I also just played matchmaker.” He responded smugly, subtly pointing to the pair directly across from them.

Sirius looked over to see his best friend with a blush across his cheeks and you, laughing in between your words, your head resting on James’s shoulder.

@ellecdc

[baileypie-writes]

Veneer x male reader where the reader is just getting fucking demolished by a cold, fever, stomach ache and a sore throat pwease🥺

A/N ~ Sure! I decided to make this a part 2 of one of my previous fics. Hope you enjoy!

~I’ll Take Care Of You!~

~Part 2~

(Part 1 here!)

Veneer x Male!Sick!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Romantic

Synopsis: Your cold has gotten much worse. Luckily, Veneer remains by your side.

Warnings: sickness(Reader), stomach ache but no vomiting(Reader)

You were sure you were dying. Three days before, you thought that this was just a mild cold. But oh, how wrong you were. Your fever and sore throat were still there, and they brought a new friend. A stomach ache.

For the last few days, you’ve been decaying in your bed, only getting up to use the bathroom and to shower. Food, water and medicine was being supplied by Veneer, who insisted on staying over to take care of you. You didn’t have the energy to argue, so you just let him. You felt a bit bad though, because his sister, Velvet, calls him at least three times a day to try to get him to work on their songs. But each time, he rejects. He has his mind set on nursing you back to health.

~~~~

Another coughing fit erupted out of you, this one being the third one today. It was just about ten seconds long, but it felt like an eternity of you almost throwing up your own lungs. As usual, when it was over, Veneer hands you a glass of water, and you chug it down. The cold liquid cools down the fiery itchiness, but only for a few seconds. You feel pure disappointment and despair as the familiar, but uncomfortable symptom of your cold comes back.

You groan loudly. “Why can’t I just be better already?”

Veneer gave you the saddest look. It almost looked like he was more miserable than you. Almost. “I’m so sorry (name)! I wish there was something more I could do.”

“Trust me, Veneer, you’re already doing a lot. I didn’t ask you to take care of me, but you are anyway. That’s more than I could ask for.” You reassured him. He gave a small smile.

Suddenly, his phone rang. You looked at the caller icon. Surprise surprise, it was Velvet. Right on schedule. Veneer rolled his eyes. “She’s probably calling to complain again. He right back.”

Once he left the room, you layed down and just stared at the ceiling. You felt your eyelids get heavy, and you started drifting off.

~~~~

By the time you woke up, the sun was setting. You yawned, at looked around the room. Veneer was sitting at your desk, scrolling through social media. When he heard you, he turned to face you.

“Hey! How’re you feeling?” He asked.

As you woke up more, you realized that you felt much better than you did before. Your throat wasn’t as sore, and your stomach ache was mostly gone. “I actually feel… a lot better. I guess all that medicine is working.”

“Great! I’m so happy for you!” He ran over and gave you a hug. He also felt your forehead while he was close. “I think your fever is gone too!”

You smiled, and returned the hug. “It’s all thanks to you. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“It was nothing!”

~~~

(Two Days Later…)

You were beginning to think that the hug wasn’t such a good idea, as you scrambled through Veneer’s kitchen to fulfill his many requests.

You had gotten him sick. And a sick Veneer was not easy to take care of. You silently cured Velvet for ditching you. But hey, at least you can repay your boyfriend for passing your sickness onto him. Even if he was being super needy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his girl - ch. 7 **

You might want to put aside some time for this, I somehow managed to write 10k...and the second half is like all smut, almost.

Took me a while to get this out, it was kinda meant to be a filler chapter but then I wanted to add more so I ended up moving things around in the story line so now we've got this one. Next chapter will see their relationship move forward with leaps and bounds and then we get into the really juicy bits!

Please enjoy and if you do, please reblog so that more people see the fic, I'll love you always if you do

If wanna catch up from the beginning, here is chapter 1 of The Pilot and his girl

Chapter 8

Tag list: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer

Sometimes you think back on other guys you’ve dated. The guy who wanted to be able to call you up whenever he wanted sex and always got mad when you weren’t around to supply, the college guy who never wanted to touch you in public, the older guy who ‘forgot’ to mention his wife and two year old son, the guy who cheated on you and then messaged all your friends and told them he’d dumped you because you’d cheated on him with his boss. And that didn’t even cover all the ‘normal’ guys who just wanted to play the game, date and have sex but never commit or say what they actually felt or introduce you to their friends or family. 

And then there was Frankie Morales. Sweet, loving, loyal Frankie who never seemed to hide what he was thinking or wanted to play games. Who never made it difficult or made you guess what he felt or what his intentions were. He was just always happy to be with you, to see you and to let the world around you know that he belonged to you and no one else. Who would kiss you in public just because he felt like it, took your hand as soon as you were near, and never hesitated to include you in his plans. Being with Frankie was easy and you finally started to understand that dating someone shouldn’t be non-stop drama, it should be easy and that’s how you knew it was right. 

And Frankie slipped into your life as easily as he let you slip into his. After your first few dates he made it clear that he would happily spend as much time as he could with you, the only other priority in his life being his daughter and you happily took a back seat to her. Frankie was always a bit low when he came back from seeing her, or she’d spent a weekend with him, his guilty conscience about not seeing her enough always on his mind. But he was also full of stories about her, his eyes beaming, a wide, proud, smile on his face, as he told you about what they’d done, the things she’d said and how much she’d grown or what new skills she’d learnt. She was the centre of his universe and you didn’t mind, she grounded him and made him happy and a better man. Both for her and for you. 

When Frankie wasn’t working or went to see Lucía, your weekends were spent mostly in each other’s company. He’d pick you up on Friday evening and take you out ‘properly’, as he said. He’d show up in his truck, freshly showered after work and in a clean shirt. If he’d ditched the cap you knew he’d made plans for a more upscale restaurant. If the cap was firmly pressed down over his, still very, unruly curls, you knew he was taking you on one of his special Frankie dates. 

The first time you’d expected maybe a cool food truck or local BBQ place when he said he’d made ‘special plans’, your expectations from previous guys were not exactly high. But instead he’d taken you to a secluded spot up on a hill, parking the truck and walking with you through the forest on a small path until the trees fell away to a cliff overlooking a lake. Stuck into the ground was a small sign that read “Reserved - Morales” that made you giggle at the thought that he’d hiked up here earlier, just to place the sign. Frankie had then produced a thick blanket from his backpack, a lantern, a camping stove, various containers and bottles and proceeded to cook you dinner while the sun set behind the forest on the other side of the lake. When dinner was done with, and you’d expressed your deep astonishment at how romantic he was, Frankie blushing to the tips of his ears, he’d wrapped you both in the blanket and leaned back against a rock with you tucked in against his chest. 

“You’re setting the bar very high for all the other guys, Francisco Morales,” you hum as you feel the cool tip of his nose brush against your cheek. 

“What other guys, hermosa?” he mutters, lightly kissing the tip of your ear. 

“All the other guys in general,” you lean into his warm lips skating along your neck, “once word gets out this is how Frankie Morales treats women, who’s gonna want a regular guy?” 

Frankie chuckles quietly, his rich, warm voice close to your ear. “I don’t treat women like this, only you, solo tu hermosa mujer.

“See, there you go again, setting the bar impossibly high,” you smile and push your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck, scratching his scalp and drawing a soft moan from him. 

When the night became too cold even for the blanket and the Frankie shaped furnace at your back, he’d held your hand as you walked back, his powerful torch shining the way through the pitch black forest. At any other time the thought of walking through a dark forest would’ve made you slightly panicky, but with Frankie’s warm hand in yours and his broad shoulders in front of you as he easily navigated the path back to his truck, you felt as safe as you did at home in your bed. 

It was easy, being with Frankie was the easiest thing of them all. 

…

You woke up with a groan on Sunday morning, six weeks or so into dating Frankie. You’d been out the night before with friends and now you were paying the price; dry mouth, headache and that horrible shaky feeling as you moved your limbs. You were definitely never, ever drinking again. You were in Frankie’s bed but he was absent so with a groan you pushed the covers aside and sat up carefully. 

As you sat on the side of the bed, contemplating death, you heard Frankie’s bare feet coming down the hall, pushing open the door. 

“Morning, my little ‘I’m not drunk’ girl,” he smiled, far too cheerful and you groaned again and fell back into bed, pulling the covers with you as Frankie chuckled. 

“Just stay in bed, hermosa, I’ll get you some water and coffee, and breakfast whenever you feel up for it.” 

“Thank you,” you mumble from under the covers. 

“Anything for you, I love you,” he says as he bends and kisses the covers over your head. 

Oh yeah, you said that last night too.

…

Towards the end of your night you’d met up with Frankie and his friends at a bar. Your friends  were heading home, and you probably should’ve done the same, but you wanted to see Frankie and you’d promised to call him before you went home. He was the designated driver for the evening, as most evenings. Frankie didn’t like tempting fate with too much alcohol after he got clean from the coke. 

“Mi hermosa, hi,” came his warm, smiling voice over the phone when he picked up, and you immediately heard someone shush loudly in the background. 

“Sssshhhhh, everyone, ssssshhhhh, it’s the girlfriend, sssshhhhh!” The drunken voice of Benny was easily recognisable in the background.  

“Hi Frankie boy,” you cooed, definitely a little bit more than tipsy, “and hi Benny,” you giggled. 

“Tell her to come here,” Benny’s voice was suddenly very close, “I need her as my wing woman!”

“Benny, for fuck’s sake!” It sounded like Frankie had to pull his phone away from his friend as he shuffled away from the table they were all at, chairs scraping across a floor. 

“Sounds like Benny’s a little bit drunk, baby,” you give him a tipsy giggled again. 

“Sounds like you’re a little bit drunk too, cariño,” Frankie chuckles. “Do you wanna come over, we’re at the usual place.” 

“Only if you want me to, I don’t want to crash boy’s night.”

“You should definitely come over, I wanna see you this drunk,” he laughs as you protest and claim to be only slightly tipsy. “Get yourself in an Uber, and send me the details so I know when you get here.” 

“Ok, Frankie boy, always so responsible,” you pout and give him a salute before you remember he can’t actually see you through the phone. 

“Just be safe, hermosa,” he smiles before he hangs up. 

He’s waiting outside for you when the Uber pulls up, opening the door of the car and giving you a hand as you step out. 

“Hi sweetie,” you purr, wrapping your arms around his neck, stumbling slightly on the curb, as Frankie catches you around the middle. 

“Hey there, not drunk girl,” he smiles down at you and accepts your wet kiss to his lips with a chuckle. “How’s your night been?” 

“S’been good, everybody came, even Hannah who always cancels because her kids are sick.” you say as Frankie guides you towards the door of the bar. “And we got free drinks from a bunch of guys who were trying to hit on us, but their loss, because we’re all taken,” You pull him close and place a kiss on his cheek, “You’re my Frankie boy.”  

“Did you accept their drinks?” Frankie’s got a worried look in his eyes that you don’t notice as you shrug your jacket off as the heat of the room hits you.” 

“Yeah, sure! It was free drinks. It’s not like they were gonna get anything in return.” 

“Cariño, you shouldn’t accept drinks from random men in bars, what if they slip something in it? You’ve got to be careful.” He’s got his arm around your waist, walking you towards the table where the guys are. 

“Wait,” you stop halfway across the bar, poking his chest with your finger, “you were gonna buy me a drink when we met, are you saying I shouldn’t have accepted that?” 

“Uh…I mean…” Frankie flounders, “technically, I guess, no?” 

“You’re so cute when you blush, sweet Francisco,” you gush, wrapping your arms around his neck again and standing on your toes to kiss the tip of his nose, “I know I shouldn’t accept drinks from random guys, baby. But free drinks!” you grin again and Frankie can’t help but chuckle when he sees your delighted grin. 

“My tipsy girl,” he smiles, “we should get some food in you.” 

“Nachos!” you exclaim as Frankie puts his hand on your back and ushers you towards the table and the guys again. 

Pope pulls you in for a bear hug as Frankie pulls out a chair for you, and Will gives you a grin from across the table. 

“Hey, there she is!” Benny whoops as you sink down on the chair, “My wing woman!” He attempts to high five you but you’re too focused on telling Frankie you want the biggest serving of nachos they’ve got, and Benny’s hand slaps down on your shoulder instead, making you jump. 

“Jeez, Benny, calm down,” Frankie scowls and knocks his hand off your shoulder. “I’m getting nachos for the drunk girl, anyone else want anything?” he asks. 

“Nachos and drinks, if you’re offering,” Pope says and Frankie nods, heading back towards the bar. 

“I’m really not drunk, just a little bit tipsy,” you tell the three guys as Frankie walks off. “He’s being very overprotective.” 

“I heard that,” Frankie calls from over his shoulder, making you giggle loudly and snort.

“Well, you’re in good company here,” Will nods at Benny who’s slightly red eyed appearance betrays that he’s by far the furthest one gone at the table. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” Benny taps your arm excitedly, looking at a table towards the back of the bar, not paying attention to his brother, “Can you help me get that blonde over there? Like, walk over to her or something and tell her I’m great in bed and she should totally let me buy her a drink.” 

“What Benny?! No!” you protest, “I’m not lying to some poor woman, I don’t even know if you’re good in bed.” You give Benny a slightly unfocused once over, “Are you any good in bed?”  

“I’m totally good in bed!” he insists, “I’d prove it but you know…Fish would literally kill me dead.” 

“Ewww!” you exclaim, sending Pope and Will into a laughing fit as Benny blinks, trying to figure out if he should be insulted or not. “Sorry! That came out wrong!” you grab on to his arm, “I mean, you’re cute and all but just not my type, I like - “

“We know what you like,” Pope interrupts with a grin, “you like ‘em dark haired, brown eyed and tanned.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you as you snort out a laugh. 

“I mean, I can’t deny that, but I like my men taller and with less body hair, Santi,” you smirk and Pope tries to look insulted. 

“Ouch, going after my height, evil woman,” he huffs, but he’s still laughing. 

“You got the right one then,” Will chuckles, “Frankie’s got less body hair than a hairless cat.” 

“Why the fuck are you talking about my body hair?” Frankie says, coming back to the table, sending Benny and you into a laughing fit and Will just waving his hand. 

“Forget it man, not important.” 

Frankie raises his eyebrows and gives his head a slight shake as he sets down the nachos and drinks for the table, although you’re also getting a large glass of water. 

“Are you riling them up, cariño?” he asks, smiling down at you as you try to pull him down for a kiss that he willingly gives, your lips tasting of tequila and wine, oh, you’ll be hungover for sure in the morning. 

“I’m innocent,” you smirk, looking anything but and Frankie chuckles. 

“Move, baby, sit on my lap, there’s no extra chair.” 

You happily oblige, sitting sideways across Frankie’s lap, his warm arm around your waist, holding you tight. 

Nachos and beers are soon gone and Pope gets everyone a new round, getting Frankie a Coke that he tries to make you drink instead of the beer Pope got you, but not having much success. Benny’s trying his luck with the blonde across the room and Will and Pope decide to shoot some pool while you and Frankie watch from the table. Despite there being several empty chairs now you stay on Frankie’s lap, his legs are slowly falling asleep but he won’t make you move, he’s got you tight against his body, and your arm is draped across his shoulder, absentmindedly dragging your fingers through the curls around his neck at the edge of his cap. He hums contentedly as your nails scratch his scalp and you feel the rumble in his chest. Looking down you see his eyes slip closed, he always has trouble keeping them open when you play with his hair. He’s not asleep but his muscles relax and his head slumps forward, leaning against you. 

Gently you pull his cap off so that you can run your fingers through more of his hair, Frankie mutters his consent and you feel his fingers trace small circles on your back, warm through the thin fabric of your top. His soft curls slip under your fingers as you run them through his hair, the buzz of alcohol in your system making you sleepy, Frankie’s warm body making you feel safe and content. You bend down and press a kiss to the top of his head and with your lips still close to his hair it slips out.

“I love you.” 

Frankie’s eyes snap open and he pulls back from your chest, looking up at you, searching your eyes to see if you mean it or if you’re just too drunk. 

“What did you say, hermosa?” he asks softly as you look down at him, a small, uncertain smile on your lips. 

“I’m sorry…” you waver, “it just slipped out, it’s too soon and I’m drunk and it’s -” 

“I love you, I love you too,” Frankie interrupts, his heart threatening to jump out of his chest as he pulls your lips to his, “don’t be sorry,” he mumbles against your mouth, “I would’ve said it weeks ago if I had the guts.” 

His hand slips behind your neck, holding you to his lips, as you wrap your arms around him. His heart is racing, he can feel your smile against his mouth as you press yourself against him and it feels like millions of tiny bubbles are gathering inside his chest, pushing up through his throat and making him grin like a fool against your soft lips. The kiss turns sloppy as you both start to giggle, foreheads leaning together, you look into his warm, brown eyes that are crinkling at the corners. 

“I love you, Frankie,” you say, still smiling so wide you feel like your face is splitting but happy tears are threatening to spill out. The way Frankie is looking at you makes you feel like he just wrapped you up in a blanket, tucked you against his chest and enveloped you with his love, making you his axis point. 

“I love you too, hermosa,” he replies, “I love you so fucking much, I wanted to tell you when you took my hand after I told you about all the shit in my life, but I was scared it was too much. And when you still wanted to be with me and the first morning you woke up with me, you told me how amazing you think I am…” Frankie reaches up and strokes his thumb over your cheek, catching a tear that’s escaped from your eyes, “I almost said it then too, I really wanted to tell you then, but I chickened out..” 

“You should’ve said it all those times, Frankie,” you say, putting your hand over his, still on your cheek, “I would’ve said it back, but I thought it was too soon. I thought you’d run a mile if you knew how fast I fell for you.” 

“Not in a million years, hermosa, never.” He pulls you in, catching your lips in another kiss, slow and searing, making you part your lips so that he can taste you, despite all the alcohol. You feel his tongue, soft against your own, as he moves to kiss you deeper, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, holding you firm against him as you hold onto his shoulders, and push your fingers into his hair. You’re in your own bubble, only you and him, and the noises of the bar fades away as you hum against his mouth, the taste of him, his tongue, overtakes your hazy mind. 

…

You stay under the covers, you can hear Frankie moving around his kitchen, making coffee. You remember him taking the guys and you home last night. The truck had been full, the guys in the back and you tucked into Frankie’s side in the front, falling asleep against his shoulder as he dropped the others off first. You vaguely remember Frankie gently scooting you out of his truck and picking you up. You’d woken up when he had to put you down to dig out his keys, his soft voice telling you to stay awake as you leaned on him. Finally he’d gotten you both into his place and he’d tucked you in under the covers of his bed, the last thing you seem to remember is him taking your shoes off. 

Now he pads back into the bedroom with a bottle of water and a large coffee. 

“Here, cariño, drink the water first.” 

“Thanks, Frankie, you’re more than I deserve, I was way too drunk last night,” you moan, gratefully taking the water bottle from him. 

“You’re a very cute drunk,” he smiles and sits down on the edge of the bed as you pull yourself up, leaning against the headboard and taking a long drink of water. 

“And I love you too,” you say, putting down the water and taking his hand, “I remember that part at least.” 

Frankie chuckles and pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your palm, “I was a bit worried you’d said all those sweet things and then forget about it. 

“Never, Frankie,” you smile, “how could I? I just wish I hadn’t blurted it out when I was drunk...” 

“It was very sweet, hermosa, alcohol clearly makes you honest. I need to remember that,” he pulls you towards him with a big grin and you lean against his chest, breathing into his clean t-shirt, fresh cotton and the smell of just him underneath it. If you weren’t so hungover you’d pull him back into the bed with you, he feels good next to you, warm and solid, his little belly soft to the touch as you absentmindedly run your hand over it and listen to his heartbeat under your ear. Frankie’s hand is rubbing up and down your back and you can feel his breath against the top of your head where he's leaning his chin. 

“I wanted to ask you something,” he says after a little while of enjoying just sitting together in silence. The slight hesitation in his voice makes you lift your head and look up at him. He’s got that worried look in his eyes, and it makes you mirror his look, raising your eyebrows in concern as he goes on; 

“Lucía is supposed to come here next weekend, she’s staying Saturday and Sunday. And you can say no if you think it’s too much but, but I really want you to meet her, if you want?” 

“You know I’d love to meet her, Frankie” you say, sitting up so that you can look properly at him. His expressive eyebrows immediately shoot up in a relieved look. 

“I know, I just wanted to make sure,” he says, “I’ve…I’ve never…let her meet a girlfriend before and I wanna make sure you’re fine with it too.” 

“I’m absolutely fine with it, sweetie,” you rub his arm, wanting to reassure him that it really was fine. “If you want, we can start easy though, maybe? Just tell her I’m a friend of yours or something and we keep the PDA to a minimum around her?” 

“Yeah, I was thinking that too,” he agrees. “I haven’t talked to her mom yet either, it’s not like I need her permission for it or anything, but you know, just so that she hears it from me and not Lucía afterwards.” 

“I won’t stay over at your place when she’s here,” you stretch your arms up, yawning big and Frankie pushes the coffee mug into your hands with a smile. “We’ll just hang out a bit,” you say, “I don’t wanna intrude on your father - daughter time, I know you feel like you don’t see enough of her as it is.” 

“You could never intrude, cariño,” Frankie protests, “hang out with us as much as you want. Although, four year olds can be a bit rowdy so you might need to work on your stamina,” he chuckles. 

“I know how to handle four year olds,” you grin, “I just buy them the loudest toy I can find and be their new best friend.”

“That’s just evil, just pure evil,” Frankie groans, “every parent's worst nightmare, you would never.” 

“I would never do that to you, Frankie,” you smile and accept his hand as he pulls you out of the bed. “But my brother’s kids, absolutely.” 

“Remind me to never piss you off, cariño,” Frankie chuckles as you make your way into his small kitchen where he’s got breakfast laid out. 

Right from the start Frankie had claimed he couldn’t cook and his mom’s brownies was the only thing he could bake. You’d quickly figured out that the ‘can’t cook’ line was more a show of Frankie’s insecurity rather than an actual thing. And he excelled at breakfast, making both blueberry pancakes, omelettes and smoothies so good you’d rather have his breakfast for every meal of the day than anything else. The first time you had his pancakes, made from scratch and not a box mix, you’d eaten four in one go and not even felt bad about it. Frankie’s smile when you kept asking for more was worth the bloated feeling you had for the rest of the day. He admitted he’d taught himself to make them because they were Lucía’s favourite food and the thought of Frankie looking up pancake recipes online to be able to serve his daughter her favourite food made you almost teary eyed. The more you got to know him, the more you saw of his big heart and soft side, the more it became difficult to equate the man you now knew, with the man who had been in Delta Force and displayed such skill at violence in the bar that horrible night. 

There was one thing that betrayed his background though, his nightmares. Frankie said he had them less these days but there were still several nights where you’d been woken up by him thrashing around in the bed, crying out incoherently. A few times you’d been woken up by Frankie throwing himself on top of you when his sleep hazy mind thought there was a threat in the room and you had to be protected. Sweet on one level, but on those nights it took you both a long time to go back to sleep, Frankie’s adrenaline spiking high and your own heart rate going through the roof after being so brutally woken up. You were grateful that he seemed to need to hold you as close as possible on those nights, it made it easier for you to fall back asleep with his heavy arm draped across your waist or chest, pulled in so tight that you could hear his heartbeat, feel it slow down as he calmed. 

The next morning he’d wake up in a dark mood, feeling guilty about scaring you and bringing his issues into your life. You soon figured out that the best way to get him past his sullen thoughts was to pull him down on the sofa and make him lay back, resting against you. That way you could hook one arm around his broad chest, make him tip his head back on your shoulder and then scratch his scalp with your fingertips. His mind would stop racing, he would feel your heartbeat under his body and your fingers softly scraping through his curls, slowly realising that you weren’t leaving, that he wasn’t scaring you away by showing you the darker sides of himself. 

“I’m sorry, cariño, I’m such an idiot, it’s just me and my stupid brain causing trouble,” he mumbled while your fingers worked through his hair. 

“You’re not an idiot, Frankie,” you gently admonished him, “you know why your brain gives you nightmares, you’ve been through more than anyone should have to endure, “ you press a kiss to his head and he leans towards you. 

“My sponsor always says I should tell people close to me what’s going on when I start spiralling out of control, but that’s always been the hardest thing.” 

“Why is it hard?” you ask, still brushing through his soft curls, willing him to relax against you. 

Frankie shifts under your arm, turning so that he can press his face against the side of your neck, you feel him inhale deeply as he stretches his arm across your chest and pulls you closer. 

“It took me a long time to figure this out,” he says in a low voice, “I feel like I fail when I lose control, fail my family, my friends, anyone I wanna be close to.” His voice is muffled, pressed up against you as he hides his face, “I feel guilty about failing so I don’t ask for help and then it gets worse, I fall into to bad habits and that makes me feel like more of a failure and that makes me feel even more guilty and then it just spirals out of control.”

“What do you think will happen when you tell those you love about losing control?” you ask in a soft voice. You’re leaning your cheek against his head, feeling his breath fan across your neck and chest as he draws a deep breath. 

“That you’ll leave me, see what a fuck up I am and realise I’m not worth the effort.” You can barely hear his low whisper, it cracks at the end, and your heart clenches, your hands leaving his hair as you wrap your arms tight around him, burying your face against his soft curls. 

“Never, Frankie, never.” You squeeze him, willing him to understand how much he’s come to mean to you in this short time. “I don’t know what happens in the future but I can promise you that I’ll never leave you because I think you’re not worth the effort. And don’t say that about yourself, you’ll always be worth the effort, Frankie,” you lean back, putting your hand on his chin and tilting it up so that you can look at him, his eyes are distressed, the usually soft look, pained and tight. “I’ve already told you I think you’re the best man I’ve ever known and even if you spiral out of control and your demons get the better of you, I won’t leave because I know how good you are, what a great man you are and what a great father you are to Lucía.” 

Frankie closes his eyes as you lean in and press a soft kiss to his lips, a long breath escaping with a shudder, as if he’d been holding it in.

“I’m always scared I’ll fuck things up with her,” he says when you pull back from his lips. “How am I gonna be any kind of role model to her when this is what I’ve done with my own life?” 

“Frankie, you idiot,” you smile softly at him, and he looks confused. “You’ve had a passion for helicopters since you were a kid right?” He nods and you continue, “So you found a way to become a helicopter pilot, a very difficult profession that takes enormous dedication and skill. You then got sucked into the fucked up system of the military, and saw some horrible things. Things that any normal person would consider fucked up and have trouble processing, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess, bu- “ 

You stop him, “You didn’t get any adequate help to deal with your PTSD so you found a way to deal with it yourself. A stupid way, sure, but you had the willpower to get your shit together when it became about someone else but you, your daughter.” 

Frankie just nods, his eyebrows pulled up in that tight little knot you’ve seen so many times. 

“Don’t you get it?” you say, “you’ve already proved to her, before she was even born, that she’s the center of your universe and that you’ll do anything for her and that she can do anything she wants. All she has to do is to look at how you’ve managed to get through some of the most fucked up shit.” 

Frankie looks at you as you stroke the lines between his eyebrows with your thumb, smoothing them out. “Frankie Morales, you’re amazing, and if you keep thinking you’re not I’ll have to smack you,” you smile at him and you see the corners of his mouth twitch up, “or I’ll get Pope to smack you,” you say and Frankie smiles properly, his face changing into that soft smile you’ve always loved. He drops his head down on your chest again, his nose pressed against your throat. 

“I’d like to see him try,” he chuckles as he wraps his arm around you and pulls himself on top, looking down at you. 

“Thank you,” he says, using your real name as if to emphasize, “I don’t know what I did in my last life to deserve you in this one.” 

“Maybe you saved my life somehow,” you smile and stroke your thumb over the bare patch in his scruffy beard, “and now you get to have incredible sex with me as a reward.” 

“Yeah?” he smirks, pulling up one corner of his mouth, “Maybe I wanna claim some of that reward right now.”

…

On Friday night, before Lucía’s coming to stay, Frankie picks you up for your date wearing no cap, but a white dress shirt with his dark jeans. You open the door and do a double take, holding out one hand in front of you to stop him, as you shamelessly admire the view. 

“Damn, Frankie…” you purr, letting your eyes travel down from the v of the open neck, the smattering of freckles dark against his tanned skin and white cotton, the wide shoulders that stretch the fabric when he crosses his arms, leaning on the door frame with a smile, his forearms on display where he’s rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, and all the way down over his slim hips and lean thighs under the black denim. 

“Are you taking me out to dinner, or are you delivering yourself for dinner?” you ask, giving him a wicked smile as you hook your finger into his shirt and pull him closer. Frankie chuckles and brushes his lips against yours. 

“Maybe I’m here to make a meal out of you…”

“Cheesy,” you giggled into his mouth, “but I’ll definitely remind yo-” 

He cuts you off with a kiss, pushing his hand into your hair and sealing his lips to yours, licking against your bottom lip before he gently sucks on it. A jolt of electricity immediately shoots down your spine and settles between your legs, the sheer promise of what he could deliver had you trembling. A moan escapes you as he pushes you against the wall and lets his thigh spread your legs, the friction shoots another jolt through your body and Frankie knows exactly what he’s doing. You can feel him move his thigh, the thick muscles giving just a taste of what his fingers would do later, and with a crooked smile he pulls back, both from your lips and your legs. 

“Frankie…” you moan, chasing his lips, but he chuckles and takes your hand, pulling you towards the door. 

“Let's get actual dinner before I make a meal out of you, my greedy little girl.” 

With a pout you follow him out the door but when he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your neck in the elevator on the way down you melt, you were never really upset. “Who says I’ll keep my hands off you, hermosa,” he murmurs, “the restaurant is really dimly lit.” 

…

The place Frankie has picked is a new place you’d mentioned a while back and you squeeze his arm tightly when you realise that he’s made a reservation especially because he knew you wanted to go. He’s even requested a table at the back where the restaurant has a few tables in small window nooks overlooking the river. The waiter seats you and lights the two candles in the windows and in the small hanging chandelier over your heads, casting the whole table in a soft light. 

You sit down in the middle of the plush bench that curves under the windows, and Frankie sits down close to you, rather than opposite. You’re sharing a corner at the table, and even though there’d be more room if you sat at opposite ends, none of you are moving, least of all Frankie. Instead you feel his hand on your leg, slipping up under the edge of your dress, as soon as he sits down. His hand is hidden under the table cloth and although he lets his hand rest on your thigh for now, you’re fairly certain he won’t let it stay there.

The waiter returns to take your orders and while you’re asking about the fish dish Frankie’s fingers start moving, gentle little circles on your thigh but steadily moving up along your leg. You steal yourself to not let his touch get to you while you talk to the waiter, sitting perfectly still in your seat as you ask about the evening’s special. You can feel his fingers creep further up your leg, starting to tickle the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh. From the corner of your eye you can see Frankie innocently studying the menu but you can also see the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. As the waiter finishes with your order he turns to Frankie and as soon as the waiter’s eyes are off you, Frankie squeezes the inside of your thigh. Not hard, but enough to make your limbs clench together as you shudder from the jolt of heat that shoots through you, settling between your legs. Your involuntary spasm makes the waiter look at you again and you pretend to reach for the breadbasket as Frankie struggles to keep a straight face.

As soon as the waiter leaves Frankie turns to you with a mischievous grin and moves his hand further up your thigh. 

“Hermosa,” he purrs as you try to scowl at him, “your skin is so soft and grabbable right here.” He kneads the plush flesh of your inner thigh as you try to ignore the way it feels as he sinks his fingers into you. 

“You’re a menace, Francisco Morales,” you glare and he leans in on the table, propping his chin up with his free hand, so that his mouth is only inches from your lips. He continues to draw shapes on your skin as he looks at you, his face softening into an innocent look, big brown eyes looking at you like he’s only adoring his girlfriend, not slowly moving his hand up to brush the edge of your panties under the table.

“Why would you say that, cariño?” he asks, smiling as you clench your jaw when his finger tips nudges at your legs, beckoning you to spread them, and you obey without hesitation. “Am I distracting you from the nice view?” You scowl at him again but you can’t hide your smile and Frankie closes the last bit of distance between you and nudges the tip of his nose against yours, letting it brush along your cheek as he captures your lips with his. 

The kiss is soft and demure, anyone looking will only see a couple in love sharing a tender kiss, a sweet moment together. Frankie’s free hand takes your hand on the table and your fingers entwine, but under the table his fingertips are slowly brushing over the thin lace in your panties, feeling the dampness his touch is creating. He traces the slit under the fabric and grazes over your clit, making you quake against his lips, and you feel his mouth pull up in a smile. His tongue quickly darts between your lips as the pad of his thumb rubs with more pressure against the spot, pulling a soft moan from you as you lean into him. With a chuckle Frankie pulls away, moving his hand down your leg, and when you open your eyes to protest you see the waiter walking over with your drinks.

“I’m gonna get you back for this, you know,” you mumble and Frankie gives you a look of perfect innocence as he thanks the waiter for the drinks. When he leaves Frankie takes a sip from his beer and over the brim of his glass his eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile. 

“I think I’d like that, cariño, why don’t you try right now?” 

“No, I think I’ll pick a moment you’ll enjoy less,” you smile back at him, taking a sip of your own drink. 

Frankie leans forward, his hand falling below the table again and you quickly cross your legs as his hand touches your knee. 

“Ah, c’mon, cariño,” he coos, caressing the top of your thigh, edging under the hem of your dress again. 

“Keep your hands on the table, Francisco,” you give him a stern look that only makes him grin and scoot closer, leaning in so that he can skate his nose along your jaw, his lips brushing up against your ear, his hot breath tickling you. 

“Mi hermosa,” he mumbles, his lips barely touching your skin, “I want to touch you, feel if you’re as wet as I think you are.” He moves his mouth down and you feel the tip of his tongue slip out and lick across the spot he knows makes you shiver whenever he touches it. “I wanna to feel your sweet pussy tighten around my fingers as you think about what I’m gonna do with my mouth later.” 

His words make your eyes close as a shiver goes down your spine, heat pooling rapidly between your legs. And Frankie knows, he knows exactly what his dirty talk does to you. And now he continues to whisper how he wants to push your dress up over your hips, spread you before him and taste your sweet pussy, all the while his hand gently nudges your legs apart under the table. You feel heat rising in your cheeks as his fingers brush up over the soaked material in your panties. He’s telling you how good he knows you taste, how he loves the feeling of your pussy clenching around his tongue as he pushes into your tight hole. 

“I know you love how my nose rubs against your clit when I bury my face between your legs, hermosa,” he murmurs and you bite your lip to stop a moan escaping. Outwardly he’s still just whispering sweet nothings to you, a loving boyfriend nuzzled against the neck of his love, under the table his fingers have slipped past your panties and are pushing into your pussy, his thick index and ring finger stretching you. You lean forward on your elbows, tilting your head towards him, hiding your face from the room. Frankie’s teeth scrape against your skin as he curls his fingers back inside you, rubbing against the spot he always seems to find so easily. The thrill of him fingering you in public has your cheeks burning, your jaw is clenched tight to stop yourself from panting. Tension is building inside you as Frankie’s breath fans over your skin. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby?” he whispers, “I wish I could get down on my knees and lick you, tug that sweet little clit of yours into my mouth, make you come on my face just like I did - “

Frankie suddenly pulls back, footsteps approaching your table, his fingers slipping out of you as he sits up. 

“Alright, I’ve got the grilled tuna for the lady and the lamb racks for the gentleman,” the waiter says, placing plates on the table. 

You’ve still got your face turned away, cheeks burning as you calm your breathing. Frankie’s hand comes up and genty cups your chin, a soft smile on his face, as if you say he’s got you, and not at all sorry that he’s got you on the edge of an orgasm in the middle of a crowded Friday night restaurant. 

…

You barely make it to the truck once you're done with the meal. The thrum of your near orgasm is still humming through your body and Frankie’s warm arm around your waist, holding you close, makes you want to duck into an alley and risk getting caught for public indecency. You stop him and cup his cheek, pulling him down for a kiss, letting your tongue slip between his lips as his large hand cups the back of your head. You feel his other hand sliding up your back, pressing you against his chest and you lick into his mouth, tasting him and the chocolate he had for dessert. Heat shoots through your body as he presses his hard on into you, he’s trying to create friction to give himself some relief but the way your body reacts, a low moan slipping out, only makes him harder. With a groan he pulls away, grabbing your hand and almost drags you the last bit to the truck. 

It’s parked on a side street and you pull him against you again when he takes you around to the passenger side. Slipping your hand in between you, you palm his cock through his jeans, Frankie grumbles, dropping his head on your shoulder and letting his mouth kiss your neck.

“I need to get you home, hermosa,” he murmurs, his face buried in your hair. “I wanna get you out of this dress so badly.”

 Letting your fingers trace the outlines through the fabric, you circle around the tip pressed against the zipper and Frankie’s breath hitches, his teeth sinking into your neck, sucking against the skin. Behind your back he opens the door to the truck and manoeuvres you so that he’s got his arms at your waist. With casual strength that takes your breath away he lifts you up, setting you down on the bench seat, and for a second you think he’s going to climb up after you. Instead he stops, one foot up on the step, his gaze dropping to where your knees fall open, he’s got a perfect view and his eyes go dark. His hand grabs your thighs, pushing you further into the truck and pushing them wider, the tip of his tongue comes out and licks his bottom lip, before he tears himself away, looking up at you again and inhales deeply as he steps down and closes the door. 

You can’t help but giggle at the effect you had on him and he notices your smile when he pulls himself into the driver’s seat. 

“What are you giggling about, cariño?” he says, buckling in and starting up the truck. His hard cock is straining against his jeans, and you scoot closer to him, cupping your hand around it. 

“Nothing,” you say, “nothing at all, sweetie,” but you smile when you see his jaw clench as soon as your palm presses against his cock and his voice is strained when he replies.

“If you keep doing that I’m gonna have to park the truck somewhere dark before we get back to my place.” 

“Would you like that, Frankie?” you ask in a low voice, leaning in so that your breath tickles his neck and you see goosebumps break out on his skin.

“If you’re asking if I wanna fuck you in my truck, then, fuck yes. But let's save that for a date where I can do it properly, and not in the corner of some Costco parking lot.” His voice is a dark rumble as he looks over at you, pausing the truck at a stop sign. His unruly curls are creating a halo lit by the street light behind him and it reminds you of the first time you were in his truck. Him driving to the airfield with you and you’re struck by how much has happened since that first day with Frankie. 

“Remember when we were first in your truck together?” you ask, mirroring the gesture you did then, lifting your hand to push it through the soft curls on his head. 

“I do, vividly,” he smiles, leaning into your hand, “I told you to do that again when we weren’t in any vehicles I would crash.” 

“You also said you wanted to kiss me.” 

“I did, and I wanted to kiss you right then, but it took like three more tries before I got my chance.” Frankie chuckles as he puts the truck in drive again. He lifts his arm so that he can put it around your shoulders, pulling you in, and you take your hand from his cock, not wishing to cause any accidents, resting it on his thigh instead. 

“Put your hand back there as soon as we’re inside the apartment, please,” Frankie says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, making you giggle and squeeze his thigh. Your sexual energy is still thrumming in your nerves but they simmer lower as you lean against Frankie, feeling a different kind of energy in your system. 

This man makes you feel safe, comfortable and wanted. You drop your head against his shoulder, relishing in the way his sheer presence wraps you up in a cocoon of happy content, as if his solid, calm energy makes your body relax and sink into him. Frankie’s own self doubts and nerves never seemed to seep out of him, he pulled them into himself, you could see in his eyes when he was pulled under by his negative thoughts, but the energy he gave to you was always solid, like a rock holding you steady. 

“You’re my rock, Frankie,” you say, as you wrap your arm across his waist, hugging him tightly. 

“Your rock, cariño?” he smiles, dropping his eyes from the road for a second to look at you. 

“You’re solid like a rock, making me feel calm when I’m with you, like you can handle whatever happens and keep me safe.” 

“I don’t know how much of a rock I am, I’ve struggled with keeping myself steady for most of my life,” he says, his voice a little doleful. 

“I know, but somehow you still manage to make me feel like you’re the most stable person in the world.” 

“You mean boring,” Frankie snorts, “should I be insulted?” 

You slap him playfully and shake your head, “Anything but boring, Frankie, just…you make me feel calm, and relaxed, when I’m with you. And happy. Very, very happy.” 

You feel him tighten his arm around your shoulders, “Mi amor,” he mumbles, his lips pressed to your hair as he keeps one eye on the road, “you make me very, very happy too.”

…

The mood changes as you get to Frankie’s apartment, riding up the elevator he nods up at the security camera in the corner and you resort to snuggling into him, keeping everything PG. But the second he’s got you over the threshold he cages you in between his arms against the door, his long body pressed up against yours, and you wrap your arms around his neck as his mouth finds yours. 

“Longest fucking dinner of my life,” he murmurs against you, his hips are flush against your belly and the hard line of his cock twitches between you. “Would’ve pulled you out of there and actually fucked you in my truck if I hadn’t waited three weeks for that reservation.” 

“You’re such a romantic, Frankie,” you smile, grabbing hold of his curls and pulling him back a little so that you can see his dark eyes, his eyelids half closed and a greedy look on his face. 

“Put your hand back on my dick, please, hermosa,” he husks, rolling his hips so that you can feel his cock more firmly. Keeping a hold on his hair so that you can look at him you snake your other hand between you and cup it over the hard bulge in his jeans, stroking it firmly with your eyes locked on his. His lips curl up almost as if he’s in pain and a dark groan slips out between his parted lips as he keeps his eyes on you, his pupils are wide and half hidden under his eyelids. You repeat the motion, adding your nails, rasping them over the bulge and Frankie’s head falls back. 

“Fuuuuck….” he moans, louder this time, “fucking feels so good but I’m about to break the zipper, cariño,” he pants. 

You tug at his hair, “Eyes on me, Francisco.” The use of his full name snaps him back as you palm him again, using your nails, and the look in his eyes sparks something inside you. Leaning in, close to his ear, you nip lightly at his earlobe, pulling a soft gasp from him. 

“Frankie,” you whisper, “do you like it when I tell you what to do?” The groan from deep in his chest is answer enough, and when you lean back, looking at him again, his jaw is clenched and he’s got a strained look on his face. 

“Tell me what to do, hermosa,” he grates out, his hips still against your palm cupped over his aching cock. His eyebrows are tightly knitted, his dark eyes fixed on your as he swallows hard, but he doesn’t move. 

You smile, the thought of having Frankie obeying your orders turns you on more than you thought it would. He’s always in control when you have sex, apart from the last few minutes when he loses himself, pumping into you as he chases his orgasm, he’s always in control. He always makes sure you come once or twice before he thinks about himself, he’s always thinking about how to give you as much pleasure as possible and seems to get as much out of it as you do. But he’s always called the shots, until now. 

“Frankie…” you purr, pulling your hand up from his dick to stroke your fingertips over his patchy beard, “this is new, I can call the shots tonight?” 

“Yes, baby, tell me what you want me to do,” his face is less strained now that your hand isn’t caressing his aching cock but his tone is still a dark groan

“Take me to your bedroom, Frankie,” you say, testing the waters, although this is hardly a difficult one. 

With a swift motion he bends and puts his arm behind your knees, the other at your back, picking you up as your arms wrap around his neck for purchase and he walks through the dimly lit apartment.  

“With the risk of sounding like a cavewoman,” you giggle, “your strength always turns me on, I forget how strong you are until you pick me up like I weigh nothing.”

“Maybe I should pick you up more often,” Frankie grins, pushing open the door to his bedroom. “Tell me, what do you want me to do with you now?” 

“Put me down,” you say and he gently sets you down on your feet and you sit down on the edge of the bed, giving him a mischievous smile. 

“Take your clothes off for me, Frankie.” 

He grins and starts rolling down the sleeves of his white shirt before unbuttoning it, revealing more tanned skin as he moves down. 

“The thing is,” you say, your eyes shamelessly watching him slide the shirt off his wide shoulders, “you’re always in control when we have sex. Making sure I come first, making me come several times before you even let me touch you.” Frankie gives you a proud smirk while his hands undo his belt and slides it out, dropping it on the floor next to the shirt. “And tonight, I wanna do the same to you.” You watch as his hands still, his zipper halfway down. 

“Don’t stop, Francisco,” you tell him. “You take your pants off at the last moment, when you’ve already got me spread out on the bed, coming down from you eating my pussy. I wanna watch you properly this time.” At the mention of him eating you out he narrows his eyes and you see the pink tip of his tongue peek out between his lips, his eyes dropping to the hem of your dress. 

“Maybe later, Frankie, if you’re a good boy,” you smile and his eyes find yours, the greedy look in them almost makes you want to drop your game and let him take control again. But instead you watch him push his jeans down over his narrow hips, catching his socks at the same time as he steps out of them. He stands up, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his snug black boxers, looking at you with his head tilted to the side and a crooked grin. 

“Want me to keep going?” he asks, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

You bite your lip, it’s hard to keep a straight face when he’s looking so good standing in front of you and he knows you’re cracking. “I didn’t tell you to stop, Francisco,” you manage to press out. 

The boxers are stretched over his rigid cock, doing nothing to hide the sheer size of him or how aroused he is. When you first had sex with him he was a bit self conscious, both about his body and the size of dick. Any qualms about this size you’d dispelled the first time, he knew you loved how he filled you up and you let him know it, loudly. His hang ups about his flat butt and soft belly were harder to dispel, but now he’s standing in front of you without any nerves, confidence oozing from him as he drags his boxers down his hips. He keeps his eyes on you as they slide over his cock, making it jump out as the elastic pulls over the tip. You’re flitting your eyes between his boxers and his face, your tongue peaking out without you noticing, licking your lips as he drops the boxers and strokes himself a few times with languid passes. 

“Lie down on the bed, Frankie,” you order him, standing up so that he can stretch out and lie back. He puts his hands out for you, trying to pull you down on top of him but you smile and slip away from his hands. 

“Patience, Frankie boy,” you purr and swat his hand away from your leg as he grins. 

You’ve still got your dress on and you see his cocky smile fade away as you give him the same view you just got. You’re wearing the black wrap around dress he loves and as his dark eyes watches, you untie it at the waist and let it fall open, pulling the ribbon out of the dress. 

“Hermosa,” Frankie moans, “you’re so beautiful, come here, let me touch you, please.” 

Shrugging it off your shoulders you step back up on the bed and straddle Frankie’s thighs, his hard cock jutting up towards his stomach just in front of you. 

“Not yet, my sweet Frankie,” you coo, “I know you want to taste me, make me come with your face buried in my pussy, but not yet.” 

Frankie’s jaw clenches and you can see his hands grabbing hold of the covers as you sit down. He’s desperate to touch but determined to let you guide him this time. The black lace panties and bra you’re wearing aren’t helping, it’s his favourite set. You’d asked for his advice when you bought it a few weeks ago and his cock had twitched when he thought about seeing you in it, wrapped like a present for him. Now you’re hovering above his erection, wearing that set, leaning down over him as your hand closes around the base. 

“Cariño,” he grumbles with a shiver as your breath ghosts over the head of his cock, it’s already weeping, drops of precum collecting at the slit. “Please…” 

“Please what, Frankie?” you smile, leaning closer to the tip, sticking out your tongue, keeping your eyes on him. His eyes are black, his eyebrows furrowed as he looks at where the tip of your tongue traces the slit of his cock. When you make contact he moans, his hips bucking up involuntarily. 

“Please, hermosa,” he pants, and you lick your tongue over the head, collecting the salty liquid as he groans and bucks his hips again. Your mouth sinks over him and he’s fisting the covers, fighting the urge to grab on to your head, instead he watches as his aching cock disappears between your lips. He can feel the head gliding along the inside of your mouth as you take him deeper, your tongue licking along the length, teasing along the swollen ridges and veins that thrum with heat. Saliva drips from your mouth, down over his cock and you use it to slide your hand up and down him, easing the friction over the part that’s not in your mouth. 

Heat is building fast in his belly, your mouth is a hot vise around his cock, taking more and more down your throat as he gasps and groans, screwing up his eyes when he can’t watch, when he gets too close to coming. He’s rambling as he shivers underneath you, praising your mouth, your tongue, your hands. When your nose brushes against the wiry curls at the base of his cock, the head bumping the back of your throat, he cries out, begging you for release. 

“Please, you’re so good to me, let me…oh fuck you feel good,” he stutters, his voice catching as you close your mouth around him, dragging your lips along his length as you increase the pressure.

“Fuck…your mouth…hermosa, your mouth, make me come, let me come in you.” He opens his eyes again, looking down at you as you sink your mouth down over him again, you can taste his precum on your tongue, more of it leaking out. 

His hips are jerking up, he’s breathing fast as he whimpers and you lift your eyes to him, meeting his gaze. Seeing him like this, his mouth hanging open as he whines, looking wrecked, he screws his face up as if he’s in pain, makes you shudder, your panties are soaked, every one of his moans and whines going straight to your core. 

You sink down deeper over him, your tongue licking every inch of him as you take as much as you can, letting his cock brush against the back of your throat again as you move your mouth up and down his length, stroking the slick base with your hand coated in his precum and your saliva. 

Frankie lets out a broken growl, “fuck, cariño, ple…please…I’m gon - “ his stuttering turns into shout as you feel the first burst of thick liquid coat your tongue, he’s jerking his hips, his hands fly from the sheets and tangle in your hair as he pumps himself upwards, your mouth closing tight around his pulsating cock, milking his spend as it shoots out of him. Frankie’s whole body tenses up, his back arching off the bed, the corded tendons on his neck stretch and tremble when he throws his head back, a cry as if he’s in pain tearing itself from his throat. 

You continue to stroke him through his climax, looking up at him, seeing his throat strain as he pants, groaning through his high. His thrusts grow slower and you let your mouth drag along him, softening your lips as you let him pump the last of himself over your tongue, ending with a small kiss on the tip of his sensitive head. He relaxes and looks down at you again, seeing your mouth come off him and you wipe the back of your hand over your mouth. 

“Help, I can’t move,” he groans softly and you smile at him as you crawl up his body and lie down in his arms. 

“I liked that,” you say, wrapping an arm over his chest as he pulls you in close. “I see why you like eating my pussy first, it’s a rush to have that power.” 

“Don’t get used to it, cariño,” Frankie smiles, “I’m not giving it up so easily.” 

“I’ll get Benny to teach me how to bark orders like in the military, you seem to like me bossing you around.” 

“Only because I let you,” he pokes his finger into your side, “I wanted to see if you had it in you.” 

“Bullshit!” you splutter and almost sit up, but Frankie’s arm tightens around you and pulls you back down. “The second I used your full name you caved.” 

“I hated hearing my full name in the army, it meant I was in trouble. But when you say it, cariño lindo…I melt.” 

“I know, Francisco Morales,” your giggle turns into a squeal when he suddenly grabs your arms and flips you over. 

“Ahora, mi hermosa,” he murmurs as he sinks his mouth to your neck, “now it’s your turn.”

Chapter 8

[xreaderbooks]

The Shadows of Our Love

Chapter 1 | In the Shadows of Return

Sebastian Sallow x Slytherin! reader

Summary: Y/n L/n is back at Hogwarts for her fifth year, left with an insurmountable amount of guilt, trauma, and ancient magic that she has lost control of over the summer; she must learn how to overcome her internal battle while also fighting a new one this year. With talk of a high society group called Death Eaters; Y/n must once again find the strength to fight for the wizarding world and confront her love for Sebastian Sallow.

Warnings: language, mentions of death, and trauma

Word Count: 2.2k

Also available on Wattpad and AO3

a/n: If anyone would like to be tagged send me a message or leave a comment, I'd also love to read your thoughts so any messages or comments are welcome

Series Masterlist - Navigation - Chapter 2

Taking the train to Hogwarts was a surreal experience for you considering how you got there in your fifth year. You were able to take in the view that all your friends raved about- the mountains, the lakes, the trees. You sat with Garreth Weasley and his group of Gryffindor friends which earned you odd stares from Imelda Smelding and her friends.

You spent your entire summer with Garreth and his family, his aunt, Professor Weasley was kind enough to take you in for the summer and your friendship with Garreth had grown in the time you spent with him. You weren’t about to ditch him because of the silly house rivalries between Slytherin and Gryffindor when he asked if you wanted to sit with him on the train. He was goofy and immature yet he could be sweet and caring in the most uncommon of ways that you didn’t mind his company.

In fact, his spirit helped lift up yours on the days when the exhaustion of sleepless nights due to nightmares and insomnia would get to you. You were the Hero of Hogwarts and it came at a cost. Post-traumatic stress had gotten to you more often than not and you had no one to share it with. Your mentor who had been there from the beginning, Professor Fig, is dead.

His death haunted you still, nobody would understand the price of your ancient magic, you felt it burn within you now. Your emotions being a trigger for a blast of your power, throughout the summer you learned to control it, Garreth had even concocted a potion (that to your surprise worked successfully) to dull your power.

“You would have loved the boat ride to Hogwarts, Y/n/n,” Garreth brought you out of your thoughts.

“So I keep hearing,” You gave him a small smile.

“Only because it’s literally the most magical experience you’ll have at Hogwarts.”

You lifted a brow at him, “One would think the most magical experience I'd have at Hogwarts would be the actual magic.”

His laugh echoed through his friends who didn’t seem to mind your presence in their compartment. Leander Prewitt, who flirted shamelessly with you despite the fact that you bested him at whatever task he challenges you to.

Nellie Ogspire who is actually a mutual friend, dueled against you in crossed wands and informed you of the Daedalian Keys that fly around school opening cabinets that contained tokens that opened your house chest.

“You know what else is a magical experience-” Leander spoke.

Nellie stopped him before he could continue to say something atrocious, “Absolutely not. Nobody wants to know, we have plenty of better magical experiences, Prewitt.”

Leander crossed his arm and slumped into his seat, “Whatever.”

You smiled to yourself as you gazed out the window, recognizing all the places you’ve traveled and longing for all the ones you haven’t yet. You’ve been all across this side of the wizarding world, visiting hamlets, helping the helpless, saving defenseless animals, and raiding camps of loyalists and Ashwinders. Some on your own and others with your friends who you couldn’t wait to see.

Natsai- Nattys mom insisted they travel to Hogwarts together, their own way, she told you in the last letter she wrote to you right before summer ended.

You couldn’t find Poppy at the platform, You and Imelda were more respectful competitive housemates/acquaintances than friends who would sit in the same compartment, and you weren’t sure if Ominis would want to sit with you.

As far as you knew, you left off as friends, he sent you cordial letters over the summer, twice maybe three times a month just filling each other in so that you’re not complete strangers. It was a safer bet to stick with Garreth.

One person you secretly hoped you would see at the train station was Sebastian.

Sebastian Sallow.

The boy who was never up to any good, who taught you forbidden spells, who would go to the ends of the earth to save the people he loves. The boy who made your heart race faster than the fluttering wings of a fairy. Your year at Hogwarts was adventurous with all that you were up to on your own, but doing it with him- you felt like you could be with him for the rest of your life and never get bored.

He sent you one singular letter at the beginning of the summer, and that was only because you had sent him one first.

Dear Y/n,

Hope all is well, I was glad to receive word from you after your final battle with Ranrok. You are a hero as I always knew you were. I’m pleased to have contributed in whatever small part I might have played to your success.

To answer your question, I am as decent as I can be considering all that has passed. I have not received word from Anne since the incident, I can only hope she will reach out to me in the coming months. For now, due to your mercy, I shall pick up the remaining pieces here in Feldcroft.

Gratefully yours,

Sebastian Sallow

—

The Great Hall was bustling with students both new and returning. It was almost impossible to hear a person talking directly to you with how loud everyone's conversations were, it was a bit overstimulating, and luckily your mind was too preoccupied with searching for the familiar faces of your friends.

You withstood stares of awe and whispers as you passed, people didn’t shy away from pointing at you. It didn’t help your nerves but you had gotten accustomed to it from being the new girl going into Hogwarts fifth year.

“Natty!” You waved to your friend who was nodding along with what her mother was telling her. She made haste, when she was able to escape her mother's grasp, to where you stood by the fireplace next to the Slytherin table.

She gave you a wide smile, “Y/n, it is good to see you, my friend.”

“It is amazing to see you!” You let out a breath of relief, you felt as if you could finally relax. You held onto both of her hands as you said “Your mother is never separating us again.”

She laughed, “You speak too soon. I foresee many letters exchanged in our future.”

“Shh- don’t say that, it may come true,” You scold her playfully.

The sound of a utensil clinging against a golden chalice told you both that it was time for everyone to settle down.

“We’ll see each other in class,” You say giving her shoulder one last squeeze as you give her a hug.

You rush to the nearest empty spot, a fourth-year girl and another empty spot to your right. You settle down with your anxiety still on high, you noticed the familiar blonde hair and full grey eyes sitting across from you.

“Ominis, Hello.”

“Y/n?” His tone was confused.

“Oh, so it’s great to see you!” You mentally slapped yourself for the poor choice of words.

He speaks dryly, “I can feel your energy from here L/n, it would be best if you calm your enthusiasm, though I must admit it is nice to hear your voice.”

“My voice?” A deep resounding tune filled your ears, in the three months without him you can hear how much he’s grown. “How flattering Gaunt, I can’t say it is unexpected-”

He plants himself in the seat to your right and your heart stutters.

Your head slowly turns in his direction, and your eyes slightly widen. He glances at you once and does a double-take.

“Y/n?”

“Hello Sebastian,” You swallow your feelings at seeing him now. His features have matured, no longer baby-faced. His cheeks have defined, his jaw sharper, hazel eyes lighter, hair grown in an attractive way you didn’t know how to describe. He definitely grew taller, shoulders broadened.

You didn’t know how to react to his looks now, you had always found him attractive, from the moment you met him; his way with words, his charisma, had you in the palm of his hand. You couldn’t look at him now with that one glance, you were sure to melt.

There was no time for any other words to be exchanged as Professor Black began his introduction ceremony, sorting the first years, and beginning the feast.

The food appeared and you filled your plate, ignoring the very apparent presence next to you. He appeared to be doing the same. Ominis spoke to him and he would respond, he would converse with you, but you and Sebastian never asked each other a single question in the full-hour talk with Ominis.

“You never described how it was to live with Weasley, Y/n,” Ominis tilted his head at you.

Sebastian's fork stabbed his chicken a little too hard, it scraped the plate, making a short screech.

You side-eyed his plate and refocused on the question the girl who sat diagonal to you on Ominis’ left asked. Imelda had a quirk on her brow, and a smirk on her lips, she questioned you loud enough for the other fellow Slytherins to hear.

“Fraternizing with the enemy,” She tsked. “Didn’t take Slytherins own hero as a traitor.”

“Didn’t know the rivalry extended to after school,” You looked unbothered. “Summer with the Weasleys was fun, you should try it sometime Imelda. You know, having fun? It could loosen the broomstick up your ass.”

You took a bite of your food, and the brunette beside you coughed up a lung, even Ominis hid his chuckle behind a fist as the girl you had insulted was red-faced and sitting next to him. Imelda's friend let out their own giggles or show of amusement while Imelda glared at them.

The rest of the feast had calmed down after you had shut her down, you had survived. Sebastian wasted no time getting out of his seat, saying his ‘I’ll see you later’ to Ominis and exiting the Great Hall as it was official the feast was over.

You decided to stay behind and chat with Ominis instead of following his lead and leaving once you were finished with your food.

“Have you spoken with him?” Ominis asked you, keeping pace as he walked with you to the Slytherin common room.

“I sent him one letter at the beginning of the summer, he responded and that was that.”

“Hm, odd.”

“How odd?”

You climbed the steps in the grand pillar where all the portraits were placed.

“Just odd,” Ominis said simply. “He was very fond of you last year, It wasn’t presumed that he would discard your friendship with how much he valued you last year.”

Discard me? You thought.

“I didn’t think he discarded our friendship Ominis, I believe he just needed some space.”

“Forgive me, Y/n, I didn’t mean it like that-”

You cut him off, “No, no. I know how it seems and eventually he and I will have to discuss all that happened last year, tonight just isn’t the night.”

You and Ominis along with your other fellow Slytherins, shuffled into the common room, settling into the dorms. You opened the door to find three other girls in the room already, all of whom you were familiar with in some way.

Violet McDowell, you had her in Potions and Herbology last year, Grace Pinch-Smedley who you had helped retrieve her family’s astrolabe from the black lake, and Imelda, who huffed and continued her unpacking. It was clear she was still upset, you smiled at the other two girls.

Violet gave you a nod, she was always a quiet one and Grace greeted you with a bright smile of her own.

—

2 hours into lights out and you were still tossing and turning, your eyes would not shut no matter what you did, and you had half a mind to sneak into Professor Sharps' closet and steal a sleeping draught. You sighed and shoved the covers away, sliding on your slippers and going down the steps to the common room.

You wrapped the string to tie your robe together in case there were people still up.

Surprisingly it was empty, not a single soul in sight. The fire crackling was the only sound to be heard. Memories of the past flashed through your mind.

A year ago today was the first day at Hogwarts, already full of adventure, watching a person you just met get killed by a dragon. The thestrals appeared after being invisible the whole time and you already knew. Going into Gringotts, fighting off statues, learning you have traces of ancient magic in your blood, and surviving the attack from Ranrok by an inch.

Yet, the thought of going into the common room the morning after and facing your fellow students who had been studying at Hogwarts since they were 11, was more frightening. You had already come into the school being the first person who had been accepted into Hogwarts as a fifth year, having to catch up with people who had the knowledge you were just learning, then coming into the first-year sorting ceremony late because of the dragon incident that everyone somehow knew about.

This school year was sure to be interesting, you thought to yourself.

The first person you saw was Sebastian, pacing in front of the fireplace with a book in hand. He introduced himself kindly, his dimpled smile had your heart before you knew it.

And it was gone just like that.

~~~

Chapter 2

taglist:

[saikokirakira]

Part 1 of 2: Pagtingin (Feelings) [Steve Harrington x Reader]

a/n: let's pretend this hasn't been sitting in my completed list since ferbruary. it was initially a 3-parter, but i decided the 3rd one to be part of the sequel. guess who's the dumdum who doesn't have a title for it? i'm using the Ben&Ben song I listened to while writing this chapter. it was either this or "baka sakali (Maybe, just in case)". it also annoyed me because "pagtingin" means "look; gaze" but in its context it means "(hidden) feelings," so it's neither wrong or right. language, ammarite?

summary: based on this blurb on a hanahaki au/flayed!reader

word count: 2.1k (brace yourself because the next chapter is almost 5 times long. yep. you heard me.)

warning: steve is an oblivious himbo; unrequited feelings / pining; minor violence; implied underage drinking (it's season 2, ykyk?); stranger things season 2 canon

You had a crush on Steve “The Hair” Harrington. Then again, who didn’t have a crush on King Steve?

Growing up with Steve, albeit shy of two years from the senior, had you following him around like a puppy. You watched him jump from one girl to the next before he surprisingly settled with Nancy Wheeler last year. “She’s different,” he had said before asking you for help on how to woo her.

Stop flirting with other girls around her. Actually listen to her and try to be interested in what she says. Get to know her instead of treating her like another girl. Surprisingly, he listened to your advice – everything you wished he would do for you – and got the girl.

Steve always got the girl.

However, something strange happened when Nancy’s best friend, Barbara, went missing, not much later since Will Byers as well. With your overprotective parents dropping a curfew on you, you barely hung out with Steve anymore. You knew nothing good will happen when you left him too long with Tommy and Carol, and you were right.

Much to your surprise again, Steve and Nancy lasted until his senior year. You couldn’t argue that being with her made Steve want to better himself. You even got to know Nancy for a bit, and for someone quite reserved, you actually liked her.

“Haven’t you ever considered dating?” she had asked you once.

You hummed for a bit, pondering on your answer. “Steve knows most of the nitty gritty on the guys on Hawkins High,” you explained. “He scares the bad ones away, and the ones that are decent are too intimidated with him being my friend since forever.”

“You never thought of dating Steve?”

You laughed lightly. You had a crush on Steve, but you didn’t like him enough to act out on it. “What an odd question from his own girlfriend,” you pointed out, and interestingly enough, it made her uncomfortable. You guessed a lot of Steve’s exes were also pretty intimidated by your friendship with Steve.

“Nope,” you lied smoothly. “Steve never asked me, and we never had the conversation on crossing that line in our friendship.” Still, the pinched look on Nancy’s face remained, and you began to wonder if it was more than just jealousy… or if she was hiding something else.

That inkling you had took form in Jonathan Byers half-carrying a wasted Nancy during a Halloween party. You asked around for Steve only to find out that he also ditched you. You aggressively poured yourself a glass of spiked punch before catching yourself, pouring the contents back in the bowl.

“Smart move.”

You didn’t need Steve to tell you that Billy Hargrove was bad news.

“Harrington ditched you, pretty girl?”

“What do you think?” you shot back. You walked out of the kitchen to find a house phone, only to find a couple making out right against it. “Seriously?”

Billy snickered right next to you.

“You’re still here,” you sighed in exasperation to show your annoyance. “Why?” You narrowed your eyes at the blonde.

“Oh, please, no need to be short with me, pretty girl,” Billy said, flashing you what he probably thought was his charming smile. “Harrington isn’t here for you to be his loyal lapdog.”

“What are you talking about?”

Billy stepped closer to you, and you were overwhelmed by the smell of beer and cigarettes from his person. “From what I saw earlier, Wheeler and Harrington seem to be over,” he whispered in your ear, “so you might actually have a chance this time.”

Rage quickly filled your veins, and you shoved his bare chest, pushing him away from you. Your reaction only amused Billy further. “You don’t know anything about me,” you spat out.

“As a matter of fact, I know everything just by looking at you,” Billy retorted, giving you a once-over. “I don’t often help out girls like you, but you’re just pitiful. Pathetic even.” He continued, “Guys like Steve don’t stay single for long. Takes one to know one, pretty girl. Best make your move soon.”

You hated how you knew Billy was right. Nancy clearly had feelings for Jonathan, and it wouldn’t be long before Steve would be looking for a rebound. Maybe if… maybe if he could see how you and him worked so well over the years, Steve might also see you as someone worth long-term. Even longer than Nancy.

For the next two days, you muddled over how you would tell Steve how you really feel. You settled for simplicity. Just give it to him honest and straightforward. With a motivated resolution, you drove to his house and caught Steve just in time as he was leaving his house.

“Oh, perfect timing,” Steve smiled, pulling his keys out. “Come with me. I need your help picking out something. I’m driving.”

Ten minutes later, you and the florist locked eyes, seeming to have an understanding with each other, while Steve fawned over the bouquet that you chose for Nancy.

There’s just something fucked up over choosing a bouquet you want for your crush to give as a reconciliation gift for his ex.

Mysteriously enough, Nancy wasn’t at her house, but Dustin Henderson, a friend of her younger brother’s, was. You observed how the boy dragged Steve over to the car, where you were waiting, and talked about “a baseball bat with nails.” Steve succumbed to Dustin’s demands and opened the trunk of his car.

“Why the hell do you have a baseball bat mace, Harrington?”

Dustin directed his attention to you. “Are you good with pets?” he asked randomly.

“I used to have a cat and a dog?”

“Perfect. You can come with us.”

For the next three hours, you and Steve followed the boy in his storm cellar, finding a tunnel dug by an animal too big to be a dog. Dustin explained to you about a monster he cared for as a baby, until it ate his cat. Now, he made plans that you and Steve would come back the next day to find it before it was fully grown.

By that point, you simply indulged Dustin and his games. It was all just bad unskippable side quests on your way to confess to Steve. … right?

When morning came, Steve picked you up, telling you that Dustin called him to buy meat to bait his rogue monster pet. Again, you indulged them and came along. If Steve was losing his sanity over his breakup, so were you by still trying to confess in these conditions.

“Why are you still friends with me?” Steve asked all of a sudden, his eyes were focused on the road to the way to Dustin’s house. “I’m no longer popular. My girlfriend broke up with me. I’m currently hanging out with my ex’s brother’s friend finding a cat-eating monster.”

Tell him. It’s the right time. But what if it’s not? Of course, it is. What if he’ll think I’m only taking advantage of his situation? What if he’ll think I’m only friends with him for that reason?

“Don’t be full of yourself, Steve,” you snorted, picking at your chipped nail polish. “I’ve known you since you were a loser. It isn’t so different now.”

“You’re such an ass.”

Your heart mellowed at the sight of Steve’s soft smile. Maybe I don’t have to tell him. These quiet genuine moments didn’t have to change. You loved it as it was.

~~

“You kept something you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who... who you just met?”

“You have to admit, Steve, that’s pretty metal,” you commented, bumping Steve’s shoulder.

“What does that even mean?” Steve asked while still tossing pieces of chopped meat along the abandoned train tracks.

“It means it’s an awesome gesture,” you said, patting Dustin on the back. The boy smiled at you, preening from your support. From the past hour, you held a soft spot for Dustin who lacked in confidence but still put himself out there for a crush.

He’s younger but definitely had more guts than you.

“I just feel like you’re trying too hard,” Steve admitted.

“Hey,” you elbowed your friend in the side in warning.

“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, all right?” Dustin said quite glumly.

“The key with girls is just…” Steve trailed off, while you cut in, “Oh, I’d love to hear this.” He continued, “… just acting like you don’t care.”

And you burst laughing. You laughed for a good minute with tears leaking from the corner of your eyes. “Oh, for goodness’ sakes,” you said, “stop giving the boy bad relationship advice, Steven.”

“Are you telling me you never chased after a boy who didn’t show that much interest?” Steve asked, but just as he shot the question, he immediately followed with, “Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.”

“I wanna know,” Dustin piped in.

“Just one boy,” you whispered in the boy’s ear but still loud enough for Steve to hear. “It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t like me that way.” Before anyone could catch your hidden meaning, you added, “Besides, I only go for guys who genuinely adore me.”

“As they should!” Steve exclaimed, pointing a finger at you. “Remember what I told you: Never take less than what you deserve.”

“As I was saying,” you emphasized, pointedly looking at Steve for interrupting, then crouching to meet Dustin’s eyes, “just be true with your feelings and yourself, and the right girl will come around for you.”

“I mean, that works too,” Steve mumbled. “Some girls are just special.”

“Like Nancy?”

… and that was your cue to walk ahead of them. You should’ve known that a wholesome moment wouldn’t last. Unfortunately, it would only go downhill from there.

In the next few hours, you were being chased by reptilian dogs, rendezvoused with Chief Hopper and the Byers, and met a punk kid who had mind powers. If you weren’t constantly fighting to stay alive, you would’ve demanded context from Steve. And now, you were in a tunnel under a pumpkin patch farm that led to an evil alternate dimension.

Some side quest for romance.

Steve led the group while with you last in case something snuck from behind. You were all careful not to breathe too hard, and you made sure to avoid touching anything on the walls, keeping eye on the kids as well. Doing so proved more difficult the further you went down the tunnel looking for what Mike called “the hub.” The vines and plant bulbs for some reason looked aware of your presence in the tunnels. In fact…

“Dustin, watch out!”

You shoved him to the side only to be sprayed with spores from the flower bulbs. Coughs and wheezes broke uncontrollably from your mouth as you tried to expel what seeped through your kerchief mask. You just hoped that you managed to get most out when you did.

After the little mishap with the flower, your group – much more carefully this time – finally succeeded in setting fire to the tunnels. You ignored the burning in your lungs when it did, especially when you ran back for Mike who got caught by one of the vines as its last resort. Running on instinct, you snatched Steve’s bat and rushed over to the boy.

“Grab him!” you barked at anyone. You stomped the offending vine with the heel of your boot and swung over and over. You screamed and cried out, not knowing whether it was out of aggression or from the burning in your lungs, until Mike was freed and the rest of the vines retreated back to God knows where.

Steve stared at you in awe and slowly approached you, retrieving back his bat but keeping his other hand locked with yours. “That was awesome,” he chuckled, squeezing your entwined fingers.

Unfortunately, the moment didn’t last because a pack of demodogs came barrelling down the tunnels in pursuit of us. Interestingly enough, one of them still managed to listen to Dustin – D’Art. So, he was real... Their reunion and goodbye were enough time to escape to the opening of the tunnel.

Steve climbed out into the farm first, and you began hoisting them up, saving yourself last. You barely managed to get Dustin out, who was putting up a fight to see D’Art until his last moments. Then the strangest thing happened…

The demodogs just stared at you.

It remained that way until they dropped dead, signalling the gate finally being shut.

You were frozen and was only pulled out of your stupor when Steve hoisted you out himself.

The way those monsters clicked and growled at you felt familiar. As if they knew you. Yet you didn’t have to worry about it anymore.

It was over.

[youmakemyhearthowl]

Punk Princess

Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 (Next Part)

(I'm so sorry for this)

Steve’s been sitting on his feelings for a few weeks now, and he’s more than sure that Eddie is someone he wants to be with in the long term. He’s so sure, he’s been planning the perfect way to ask him out for a few days now, and he’s almost got it exactly how it needs to be, when things kinda just go to shit.

He decided on his fishnets with a long kilt today, bright and matching the school colors because it’s an important game in the basketball season, and he pairs it with his spiked denim jacket with his battle vest pulled over it, a T-shirt that he took scissors to the sleeves cut so low it shows off the nailed baseball bat tattooed on his ribcage.

He’s excited for the game tonight, because he's going to actually have people in the stands supporting him. Robin has band so she’s always kind of there (of course she’d be there even if she didn’t), but he’d been planning on asking Hellfire to join in the stands tonight to watch. It’s the first time he’s going to be inviting anyone to see him play, and he’s beyond excited he has the club as friends now.

Steve’s never had a big group of friends before, and he’s a little overwhelmed sometimes that so many genuine people want to talk to him throughout the day. All because he ditched what he thought would make him well liked, and embraced something that not only made him happy, but helped him really truly be himself. 

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning.” Robin chirps, grabbing Steve’s arm and placing it over her shoulders so she can nuzzle into Steve’s side, sighing happily at the contact. She’d replaced the purple in her hair with a forest green last night when she’d added it to the back ends of Steve’s hair, stating that she needed to match him, so people know he was her best friend. Steve’s entire body felt warm with love today.

“I’m just excited, Robs. This is a big game and I’m going to be in for the whole time probably, and I’m gonna ask the Hellfire boys to come too, so I might actually have people in the stands cheering for me that actually matter.” His happy energy seems to be contagious because Robin pulls back from him and links their hands together instead so she can swing them back and forth between them, the spiked bracelet she has on brushing the inside of Steve's wrist.

“I can’t wait for them to see you in your natural element, Steve. You glow when you play basketball.” She’s got a big cheesy grin on her face as she leads him out to the bleachers. They’ve started sitting with Hellfire during their free period now. The group accepts them in with open arms, and Robin and Gareth have formed some kind of bond over complaining about Steve and Eddie so the transition was easy.

“Hello boys!” Robin cheers loudly, her smile only seeming to widen as she plants herself on the bench next to Gareth and steals one of his baby carrots.

“What’s up Birdie?” Jeff beams, ruffling her hair. Steve’s eyes are instantly drawn to Eddie who’s been unusually quiet as they walk up and has to stifle the laugh he feels bubble up.

Eddie’s face is beat red and his mouth is slightly open, his eyes locked firmly on Steve’s exposed legs and trailing up his body. Subtly Steve adjusts his jacket just as Eddie's eyes get to his midsection so he can catch a glimpse of the ink on his skin.

“You have three tattoos?” Eddie’s voice comes out kinda strangled, fish mouthing as he meets Steve’s eyes. “Also are you wearing a skirt?” His face is steadily growing redder, the blush traveling down his cheeks to his neck.

“It’s a kilt.” Steve offers, smirking. He can hear Eddie muttering under his breath but it's too quiet for him to make out, so he throws himself onto the bench next to him, stretching his legs out and crossing them at his ankles. His heavy boot heel digging into the dirt below them. 

“So I’ve got a question.” Steve tries to keep his voice nonchalant, but he feels his excitement seep in and he can’t contain the giddy smile forming on his face as he looks at all his friends, god his friends, sitting around him.

“I’ll literally do anything for you as long as you keep that kilt on.” Eddie responds, Robin and Gareth make a fake gagging noise in the background. Steve throws his head back and laughs, feeling lighter than he has in a very long time.

“So tonight’s like a super important game for basketball and I was wondering if you guys would come watch me play? I know its last minu..” Eddie holds up a hand cutting him off.

“Steve, Hellfire is tonight.”

“Well yea I know, but I figured we could do it tomorrow or something since I have the game and wouldn’t be able to make it anyways.” A small thread of dread starts to snake its way into Steve’s stomach as he watches Eddie’s face morph into displeasure.

“Cancel Hellfire for… Basketball?” Every word of that sentence is coated with a venom Steve’s never had Eddie direct at him before, and the thread of dread turns into an entire lead brick in his stomach.

“Well yea, that way we can… do both?” He says it like a question, watching Eddie spring up from the bench next to him and begin to pace in front of the group.

“We don’t cancel Hellfire Steve. We’ve never canceled Hellfire. And you want to do it for some stupid basketball game? You’re choosing that shit over us?” He gestures around to the rest of their friends, a sharp anger in his eyes as he looks at Steve. 

“I just thought it would be nice to have like real fr…” 

“I should have known you didn’t really care about me, us, this group. Fucking prioritizing your stupid jock game over Hellfire. Jesus Steve, your true colors really have been sitting below the surface this whole time haven’t they?”

Steve feels ice cold.

He’s fighting off the sting of tears threatening to fall as he stands up and squares his shoulders, pulling on everything in him that he can, to bite back at Eddie. But he can’t find any heat in his veins to even begin to add to the words, so his shoulders deflate as he lets out a breath shaking his head.

“Just forget it man, I’ll send Dustin or something to sub for me tonight.” It comes out in a neutral tone as he shoves his hands into his jacket pockets to try to bring some warmth back to them.

“Bullshit. Don’t bother Steve. You’ve shown where your priorities are. Consider Sir Stephen no longer a part of the campaign.”

Steve just walks off before the tears can fall, biting his knuckles to hold in a sob.

Bullshit. Steve should have known better. He really should have. He’d assumed that Eddie would be different, that Eddie would be open to all sides of Steve like he was open to all sides of him. But at the end of the day, apparently Eddie still saw him as King Steve, and nothing was probably ever going to change that.

He can distantly hear Robin shout something at Eddie before she’s running up to him and throwing her arm around his shoulder. Tucking him into her side the same way he always does to her.

Steve should just stick to Robin. Maybe he was only destined for one friendship. Maybe he wasn’t someone who should ask for more than that. 

Robin was enough anyways.

She always was.

(I don't think I'll be able to post again until Sunday, but know I love you guys, and the angst doesn't last forever, the boys are just Teenagers that have things they need to learn and unlearn.)

Ao3| Part 1| Part 2| Part 3| Part 4| Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7| Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10| Part 11 (Next Part)

[the-lincyclopedia]

Winter holiday fics by lincyclopedia

Thanks for the tags, @cricketnationrise and @doggernaut! When you tagged me, I wasn't sure if I had any winter holiday fics. I have 12, across four fandoms. In my defense, I have over 200 fics total, so I lose track of what I've written sometimes. (Also, looking back through my AO3 account, it's like, man, I used to write. Unfortunately I've been too depressed to do much of that for a while now.) Anyway. Here's what I've got, organized by fandom:

Check Please

Deck the Halls with Balls of Holly

Ransom misunderstood the lyrics to "Deck the Halls," and he and Holster wind up making some interesting Christmas decorations for the Haus.

This is a super short one-shot featuring platonic Ransom & Holster friendship from Bitty's POV. (It's part of my series of fics based on misheard song lyrics.) The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Palentine's Day Karaoke

This fic is inspired by @softfloralbro's story "Shitty Knight's Palentine's Day Spectacular" and is basically a karaoke playlist wrapped in narration. The basic idea is that SMH has a karaoke party on Valentine's Day, and everyone serenades their friends. Set in February of Year 2.

This fic is full of SMH friendship, music, and not much else. The relevant holiday is Valentine's Day.

In Your Warmth I Forget How Cold It Can Be

In a world where the graduation kiss never happened, it's winter break of Bitty's senior year, and Bitty and Jack are both out and single. The plan is for Bitty to spend New Year's Eve with Jack at Jack's condo, but that plan goes awry when Bitty and Jack return from the airport to find a homophobic slur painted on Jack's parking space. TW for homophobia.

Basically, this is canon-divergent Zimbits getting together. The relevant holiday is New Year's Eve.

too long i've been afraid (of losing love i guess i've lost)

Dex gets disowned after coming out as gay. SMH is there for him.

Basically, angst, hurt/comfort, and platonic Frogs content, plus some platonic Dex & Bitty. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Five Times Lukas Was Homesick Plus One Time He Didn’t Have to Be

It can be hard to go to school in another country where everyone speaks a different language and no one celebrates your holidays. Luckily, Lukas has friends to help when he’s homesick.

Okay, this is a 5+1 and only one of the scenes is actually about a winter holiday, but I like that scene, so I'm including this fic on the list. The relevant holiday is St. Lucia Day.

When Lucia Day Dawns

For Lukas's senior project as a music major, he has to plan/lead a public music performance. He decides to form a choir to sing Swedish Lucia/Advent/Christmas songs on St. Lucia Day (December 13). This is the Friday before finals and everything is stressful—until the concert starts and suddenly it’s perfect.

This is another Lukas-centric fic about being Swedish. The relevant holiday is St. Lucia Day.

Carry On

Right Now

A one-shot set during Christmas break of Simon and Agatha's fifth year at Watford. Even though they're not ultimately meant to be, they made sense as a couple once.

This is very jossed by Any Way the Wind Blows, but I still kind of like it. It's pre-canon Simon/Agatha. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Stranded

After leaving Baz's house and dropping Penny off in London, Simon and Agatha get stranded in a ditch in the middle of a snowstorm. Ex awkwardness ensues.

Unlike "Right Now," this fic features Simon and Agatha as exes. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Sounds Like a Date

Baz is a barista stuck working on Christmas Eve. Simon is a handsome customer.

This is a coffee shop AU featuring a Snowbaz meet-cute. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Yuri on Ice

Ice Quality

One of Yuuri's college friends invites him to spend Christmas with her family, and Celestino approves as long as Yuuri promises to skate while he's there. Trouble is, the town's indoor rink is closed for renovations. A one-shot set during Yuuri's time in college in Detroit.

This is a pre-canon platonic Yuri & OFC fic. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

Happy New Year, Otabek!

Yuri and Otabek have been best friends for four years, and Yuri's had a crush on Otabek for a while, but he never expected Otabek to like him back. Until, that is, Otabek gets drunk at the Grand Prix Final banquet and says some things Yuri doesn't expect. It's going to be a very interesting New Year's celebration in Almaty . . .

This is a post-canon Yuri Plisetsky/Otabek, and it's the only multi-chapter fic on this list (though it's still pretty short). The relevant holiday is New Year's Eve.

Sherlock

Over the Table and through the Giggles

John has insisted on hosting a Christmas party. Again. Everyone but Sherlock is drinking, and John is telling stories about Sherlock, and suddenly Sherlock decides to kiss John. Plotless fluff.

This is a canon-divergent Johnlock getting-together scene based more heavily than you might guess on my sober-but-sleep-deprived friends and me being ridiculous in high school. The relevant holiday is Christmas.

I'm guessing a lot of people have been tagged, especially from the Check Please fandom, but I'm going to try to pull in some Queen's Thief folks. I tag @worldsentwined, @newtsoftheworldunite, @hoeratius, @eponymiad, and anyone else who wants to play!

[baybtron]

𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹

fem!reader + itadori yuji

𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰. i unwrap for you today, a fiction following the life of a college student who struggles with her drug addiction and depression. with no plans to fix herself she continues to create a ditch in which traps her in her studies and failing exams, until meeting a guy when working after a busy night shift. one that she didn’t know would change her life, drastically.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. college!au heavy!angst, violence, use of over the counter or prescription drugs/ medications, heavy!drugs use, panic attack, family issues mentioned?, depression, use of weapons, slow burn?, light!fluff, fem!reader.

𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲. this is my first fan fiction ever 1) and 2) there are many details from this in which i’ve taken from euphoria.

i started this story on Monday, December 18th at 11:46.

maybe if you weren’t such a nuisance, maybe just maybe life would be better. or at least that’s what you thought, but what about what other people think? maybe they feel the same way. but who knows? who’ll ever know what other people trul— interrupted by your thoughts is your professor calling out your name from the front of the class. you practically jump out of your seat, swallowing thickly as you adjust yourself before setting your eyes on the professor. “i apologize, professor.” you say quietly, almost quiet as a mouse as you lean into your hand. your elbow resting on the desk, legs crossed as you try to focus. the professor nods his head in response, “please do try to pay attention.” he speaks aloud as he clears his throat, turning back to the board as he resumes his lecture.

though, it was hard enough for you to pay attention. being sleep deprived, and also being as high as a kite in class was not a good idea. you chuckled quietly at your own internal thoughts as you stare blankly at the board. all these other students must have a clue on what’s going on, unlike you. some woman putting her intelligence to waste by being high all day, words your mother would say if she were here.

you didn’t have much friends— or any at all. you didn’t need any, and coming from a thought that wasn’t in a way your mother would want it to be, friends were a nuisance. much like you saw yourself as one.

you trotted through the hallways of the college campus, hands in the pockets of your sweatpants as you counted each one of your steps. staring into the distance as you could feel the world around you spin, flake, disappear and come back, dissolve and bounce. carrying your black book bag— yeah, you still carried a book bag around like it were your highschool days. who cares? certainly not you. it was actually a comfort, being reminded of those days of youth. being so lost as you wobbled through the empty halls, too busy to take notice in the guy who was heading right towards you.

there was a large thump, the guy dropped his phone. you on the other hand stumbled back quite a bit, as if you were knocked out of your thoughts and back into reality. so much for a fifty dollar cart. you sighed as you scratched the back of your head lightly. “sorry, i wasn’t paying attention.” you said as you looked up at the guy whom you had ran into. Yuji Itadori.

wow, what a perfect guy. not even saying this appearance wise, but he was just perfect. ideal. he was a student athlete, full paid off scholarship from three whole sports. he was tall, dirty pink hair, light brown eyes like the autumn leaves. he had perfect grades, a perfect life, a lot of friends— he was definitely going somewhere in the future. much unlike yourself.

“no, don’t worry. that was my fault.” he gave a cheeky grin, holding up his hand as he held himself accountable. he then kneeled down to grab his phone, standing up straight again as he looked towards your direction. “trust me though, the other guys here would’ve made it a bigger deal than it should’ve been.” he chuckled in thought before tilting his head. analyzing you and your physical appearance. “you used to be on the girls baseball team in high school, right?” he questioned curiously.

oh? that was new. he’d actually recognized you, catching your interest. you just nod your head slowly, though it was still a bit hard to respond with such a slow processing time. “yeah, i.. uh..” you stammer on your words for a second before pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. to seem… more sober. “yeah, i was.” was. “i quit, after junior year though.” you gave a quick smile, before it going away. yuji nodded in understanding, “understandable.” he replied with a smile. “you look different, a good different though don’t get me wrong!” was he trying to keep this conversation up? he wasn’t doing good. “yeah— thanks.” you said bluntly. “i, uh.. really have to get going..” you gave a slightly empathetic chuckle, and a nervous smile. “i have an exam, i’ll catch up with you later though, yuji.” you said quickly, but before he could utter another sentence you’d already walked past him.

“y—“ …”yeah.” he said, looking back curiously as you walked off. “a good different.” he muttered under his breath before looking away, continuing his path as he placed his hands inside his pockets.

‘what a nuisance.’ you thought to yourself as you let out an annoyed huff.

later that night, you lie in bed, staring at your ceiling as puffs of smoke leave your mouth. your hair spread out on the white silk sheets, your arms and legs spread out as you stare at the euphoric glimmer of the sky. “i want to go to space.” you slurred out. staring into the ceiling of what was now the galaxy.

you wore a large white t- shirt, in which you had gotten from your older brother. before he had left, before the family split, before… before you were engrossed in drugs. funny, how then your mother would always say;

‘don’t get addicted to things you know you can’t go cold turkey on, pumpkin.’ pumpkin? she’d never say that. “maybe more of uh..” you muttered to yourself. “ ‘don’t do drugs, kid.’ “ you chuckled. “yeah, that sounds about right.” you said as you stared up at the galaxy patterned ceiling. which was all just a figment of your imagination of course, the floral designed underwear you wore designed in red rubbed against your skin. you lifted your arm, holding the blunt to your mouth as you inhaled.. andd exhaled. you closed your eyes. and the alarm rang. time for work.

that’s right, you take classes at 10 in the morning, leave at 12, go home for about 15 minutes.. get high and reminisce leave at 12:26 to go work, work until 2 in the morning.. go back to your apartment… and repeat.

you put on your uniform, tying your hair into a ponytail as you stared at yourself in the mirror. your eyes weren’t as bloodshot as they were in class. i mean? you didn’t need a cart for work, of course.

you thought that as you picked up your cart, stuffing it in your pocket. feeling rather prestigious knowing you can’t go anywhere without the feeling of euphoria following you around!

you sat on the edge of your bad as you put your shoes on, standing up before stretching as you let out a soft groan. “the cycle repeats.” you mutter to yourself as you grab your things and make your way out of your room, shutting the door behind you before walking towards the bathroom. sighing as you opened the mirror-cabinet to grab a small pill container. fluoxetine. didn’t help like weed carts did, but it helped enough to stay on it so when you say ‘i ran out of weed!’ you can just get more. except.. it’s given to you… and prescribed!

you closed the container before setting it back in the cabinet, closing the mirror door before switching off the light and walking out. yanking your keys from the holder as you unlocked and opened the door slowly, walking out as the burst of never-been-outside air hits you. shutting the door on your way out, you shift to your right on your heels. walking down the hallways, onto the elevator, through the lobby and outside to your car. as you got in you slumped in the drivers seat, i mean.. you could really crash into this whole complex right now and just… “boom” you emphasized to yourself before adjusting your body in the seat. setting your keys on the center console you push the start car engine button, buckle yourself in before letting the car heat up.

yeah, sure, your shift was going fine. you made it a few hours into it without bringing your cart into involvement. nor getting scolded for not cooperating by your manager. the loop was changing!

or so, you thought.

it was about 12:30 at night. tables had been cleaned, no customers until a group college students had walked in. in which you knew, and hated. though you put on a smile as you made your way to their table. “welcomeee, and what could i get for you lot.” you say in your best customer service voice.

the girl with a short black bob began to speak. “can i get—“ the girl was interrupted by a tall bulky guy with brown hair, and green eyes. he let out a loud obnoxious laugh as he analyzed you from top to bottom. “i know you.” his voice deep, husky. he tilted his head to the side.

“i, uh.. don’t think i recognize you.” well, how could you. on cloud 9 almost all the time, it’d be a surprise if you did remember.

the guy chuckled.

“i used ta’ be your dealer. till’ you basically said.. fuck yourself, and didn’t pay me.”

“i don’t recall.”

“ya’ know ya’ do.”

“maybe you’re mistaken.”

“you callin’ me dumb, bitch?”

“maybe i am.”

he chuckles. “yeah. maybe you are.” he says, his smile slowly fading. his face falling into a glare, though you knew you were fucked. you thought nothing of it.

and for the rest of that shift, you found yourself high in the clouds again. it helped with the anxiety.

about an hour later, you found yourself taking the trash out. couldn’t your colleagues have done this? or maybe something to help. you scoff. but you were feeling great, so who even cares? as long as you were feeling it so was everyone else. you pushed the back door open as you entered the slim and dark alleyway, the black trash bag in hand as you began to toss it in the trash. you stood there for a second before hearing a whistle in the distance.

“yo, bitch.” a voice you recognized called out, standing in the distance was the guy from earlier, his buddies.. and more buddies. you sighed as you held up your hands, “look.. i.. don’t want any problems.” your voice slurred slightly, but he was too angry to notice.

he trotted over, your reaction timing was moving in space time. so you had literally no time to react at all, as he punched you square in the face. you swear you could feel every bone in your face shift as you fell back, you let out a loud groan. looking up as your eyes widened slightly, but so gone only half of you didn’t realize what was going on.

a few more of his guys joined in, assaulting a cafe worker at 1 in the morning.. in the middle of a dark alleyway. how ironic. after a while you were sat against the brick wall, a cut on your swollen cheek, a bloody nose, and a pool of blood leaking out of your mouth.

“what a nuisance.” the guy spat at you. walking away with the rest of his buddies. your eyes followed him.

“where have i heard that before?” you muttered out as you leaned your head back against the wall. your hand slowly making its way into your pocket as you pulled out your cart. bringing it to your mouth.

inhale, exhale.

closing your eyes as your lungs inhaled the euphoric air.

“yo.”

a voice echoed through your head.

“yo!”

“yoooooooooo!”

your eyes shot opened, coming to your senses as your turn your head slightly to the side. your eyes adjusting to the darkness as you see a silhouette of a man kneeled down in front of you. at first you were able to recognize who it was. but your eyes did you justice, only to realize it was yuji. what a coincidence.

“sheesh.. what happened to you? you look beat up!” he says as he analyzes your face. grabbing your had slowly before helping you up. you couldn’t balance yourself though, so he held you on your feet by the waist. barely conscious as his voice began to fade from your ears. as he walked with you you were completely out of it. he didn’t know any info on you, where you live.. or anything really, except that you did girls baseball in high school, the same one he went to. and had a few conversations with you.. but did you even remember?

he looked concerned as he kept his focus on you, he had no choice but to take matters into his own hands.

you woke up hours later, laying on your back in bed. staring up at the bright ceiling as the sun trickled through the curtains. but this wasn’t… your bed. hell, this wasn’t even your room. “what the.. fuck..” you muttered confusingly as you sat up. wincing a bit in pain, bringing a hand to your face as you felt the bruise on your upper cheek.

the room had navy blue walls, consisted of posters of Jennifer Lawrence, random movies in which you’d never seen, video game consoles and a desk. yeah, this definitely wasn’t your room.

“you’re awake.” your head almost snapped as you turned to the right, facing where the voice had come from. standing in the doorway was yuji. you analyzed him as he stood in his sweatpants and Jennifer Lawrence shirt which had pictures of her face collaged onto it. you cringed. then looking back at his face. “oh, um.. hi. yeah.” you pulled your legs over the edge of the bed. only to realize you were in large red pajama pants, which weren’t yours. and your t shirt, which was under your work uniform before.. all this happened. “sorry, but what am i doing here?” you ask.

he leans against the doorframe. your figure was small in his pajama pants, he didn’t do anything weird or creepy he just wanted you to feel comfortable rather than sleeping in work pants that could wake you up with an ache in your legs. “you really don’t recall?” he asked curiously.

“yeah, i mean…—“ you shot a frown. “can you just..- enlighten me, einstein.” you mutter. he blinks, chuckling a bit. “okay, no need to get aggressive” he said as he made his way in, handing you strawberry yogurt with a spoon. sitting besides you on the bed as you reluctantly take it. “found you unconscious, all beat up in an alleyway. i woke you up for a second, but you just passed right back out.” he chuckled. “brought you to my place—“ he held up his hands. “and i swear on my life, didn’t do anything weird. i just changed you into my favorite pajama pants— so you weren’t uncomfortable. i didn’t sleep in the same bed as you either. slept on the couch.” he said, in full honestly before putting his hands back on his lap.

not that you cared, anyway. if he even did do anything, you were unconscious anyway. “oh, and i also put some stuff to help with the bruising and scratches on your face. i also stopped your lip from bleeding.. it was pretty busted.” he said with a grin. it made you raise a brow, this guy was mindful. and he was proud of himself for it… well, not that being careful and mindful was bad but— “never mind.” you muttered to yourself, he raised a brow. “what?” he said suddenly. you almost shot up, looking back at him. “oh.. err.. nothing, sorry.” you said awkwardly before shooting up again. “and— thanks.” you were a bit of an awkward and anxious person— when you weren’t under the influence of drugs, it’s clear that you didn’t care about your own wellbeing.

“well—“ you said suddenly before yuji spoke up again, “y’know..” he said quietly. you turned your head to face him again. and he faced you. “smokings not good for you.” he said with an almost innocent gaze, before standing up and stretching with a groan. “keep the pants, by the way.” he said with a pure smile. if you were high, you’d laugh. but you could just stare in silence as you slowly stood up. “my.. uh.. my car.” you said quietly. “hm?” he turned to you, “oh, i have your keys. car is still by the cafe. if you need me to help ya’ cause you’re a little woozy i can help.” he said softly as he pulled out your keys from his pocket and tossed them to you.

you caught them with both hands, cringing slightly at his offer. “er, no thanks.” you said quietly. “but thanks.” you said again.

when you two stood at his door you had all your things gathered, though you still had his pajama pants on. which he said was fine. “thank you, again, yuji.” you said, you were thankful. you really were. you just couldn’t express it. “no problem, bun.” he said with a smile. ‘bun’? you raised a brow. what an odd guy. as you were about to walk away he suddenly spoke again. “hey.. sorry.. but uh..” he stammered a bit. you turned around to face him, a bit curious as to what he had to say. “we should really.. like.. hang out more.” hang out? “and er—“ he scratched his head. “you really should quit the smoking thing.” the smoking term, again. that’s funny. you thought. but the thought of him wanting to hang out.. also sort of peaked your interest. “….okay.” you said softly. you hadn’t even realized you had uttered that out. but you did. you now had a friend. maybe?

later that day you lay in your own bed, you had taken a shower so your hair was still a bit damp. your body was curled up as you hugged a stuffed animal. you weren’t high.. not one bit. but you were thinking of the words of yuji, ‘you should really quit the smoking thing.’ you almost scoffed aloud as you thought of it again. “as if.” you muttered before your hand slid under your pillow, pulling her cart from under it.

a smirk on your face as you brought it up to your mouth, but stopped as it was only a few inches away.

‘you should really quit that smoking thing.’

“that smoking thing.” you snorted. pulling the cart back from her face, before tossing it the other way. “okay, yuji.” she muttered to herself.

‘ why does some silly boy have a huge influence on me? ‘

the next day you found yourself getting ready again for your classes, you missed the other day so there was an unexcused absence. you didn’t mind— well, usually you didn’t. but you found yourself today feeling a bit.. stressed maybe? not sure. it was an odd feeling.

you dressed yourself in a t shirt and jeans, adjusting how your clothes looked on your body you made your way into the bathroom. staring at yourself in the mirror for a few minutes.. that felt like.. forever.

“i look weird.”

you say quietly to yourself.

“i feel weird.”

you say in a louder voice, almost jumping out of your skin when you realize how loud you can be. as if you didn’t know you could be any louder.

you just sigh, feeling weird. but your body feels oddly warm. in a good way of course. you almost crack a smile as you open the mirror cabinet, pulling out the container of prescription pills. “these wouldn’t count.. right?” you stared at them. you then let out a heavy sigh before putting them back, closing the mirror and walking out of the bathroom.

“no.”

you grab your bags as you slightly adjust your hair.

what are you doing that for? you catch yourself, questioning in your head as to why you would even care about things such as your own hair. you take a minute to think before brushing it off. you grab your phone, shoving it into your pocket as you walk out of your room, making your way to the front door as you slip on your black uggs. you twist the doorknob after unlocking it, grabbing your keys before standing there for a second.

you’re forgetting something.

you stare at the doorknob as you dissociate from your body. “it’s probably nothing.” you mutter out before walking out the door, shutting the door behind you as make your way out.

unlike your job, the college campus was literally right next door! all you had to do was a little bit of walking. you’d be fine, right?

“you made it early for once.” your professor said with a small smile. you looked up from wherever you stood. staring for a second before shaking out of your thoughts. “yeah.. i uh.. i.. i made it.” you give a small yet awkward smile. “well, take a seat then.” he offers kindly as he turns around and starts cleaning off the board. you nod in response as you make your way to your seat in the front row, crossing your legs as you look around.

“you know…. in the beginning of the year, you were my best student.” the professor said. you looked over, he was a scrawny old man with long grey hairs. he seemed sweet too. “oh..” was all you could mutter out. wanting to tell him more for some reason, he just tilted his head. “what happened, young one?” he questioned curiously. though you could sense a feeling of warmth from him, “well..” just before you could speak, mote students came flooding in. interrupting your train of thought and voice, you just stopped. and looked away. though, your professor didn’t pry. he just nodded, and faced the other students.

after that class you found yourself, yet again walking through the hallways. you looked around as you sort of.. admired the campus view. “why’ve i never noticed this?” you muttered to yourself as you looked around. you nodded your head as if approving the beautiful scenery like never before. you chuckle to yourself before heading into the library, which you’ve never done before. quite odd of you.

pulling out your phone as you quietly walk in, the library filled with books of every genre. i mean, of course. it’s a library. you sit down at a nearby table, there were a few other people here as well. scattered around studying, or just reading.. but you didn’t mind. you felt a sense of peace? maybe. until you heard a familiar voice.

“yo!” a male voice said aloud, a few voices shushing him in the background. you looked up as you noticed him, a small smile appearing on your face, before fading as you noticed four other people following behind him. a rather tall male with black spiky hair, following by a shorter guy with white hair and a black mask. a girl with a short brown bob, and another with a long black high ponytail. they all waved and sat down.

“hey!” the female with the brown eyes and short brown hair said with a smile, “we’ve heard a lot about you, from yuji of course!” she said happily. the others agreeing. she held out her hand to shake yours as she leaned over the table. you looked down at her hand, hesitant. you looked back at her and then smiled. she awkwardly pulled her hand away. yuji smiled, “don’t be nervous. these are my friends, nobara, megumi, maki, and toge. wanted to introduce them to you.” he said happily.

“tuna.” the white haired male introduced as toge spoke. in which the girl, maki, with the long ponytail agreed with him. she pushed her glasses up slightly as she sat up. “you have an odd scent— don’t get me wrong, you look good but usually— and i see you around campus a lot.. usually you look out of it. are you feeling okay today?” she asked curiously.

“oh— i.. uh..” you stammered.

“maki! why would you ask such a question?” nobara butted in.

megumi peaked in from his phone. “maybe she’s just having a good day.” he mustered.

toge responded, “tuna mayo.” which you didn’t quite understand.

yuji tried to speak a few times but they continued to argue a bit more, they’d ask you questions but wouldn’t let you answer them. overwhelming you as they argued and argued and argued.

you felt yourself getting overwhelmed, your face felt like it was heated as your chest started to become heavy. your eyes darted from each of them before standing up quickly, gathering your things and walking off without say.

yuji noticed you before anyone, standing up as he watched you rush away. he shouted your name, “wait! please—“ he called after you. but you kept walking, you walked until you were off the campus. looking around as cars passed by, people laughed and chatted as you rushed through. the sidewalks seemed like they were always crowded.. but why now? why now when you felt the world caving in on you? why now when you felt as if you couldn’t breath.

why now when you felt isolated?

you rushed to the student apartment complex as your hand never left your chest, trying to catch your breath as if you just ran a mile. your eyes darted around making sure no one followed you, fumbling with the keys in your pocket as you made your way up the stairs. “mom.. mommy.” you muttered under your breath. as if she would even come. what was wrong with you?

finally opening the door you yanked your keys out of the lock and slammed the door behind you, not even locking it as you dropped your things. you rushed around, rummaging through your things.

“where is it?” you shouted, as if you were in fear. as if you were hiding from someone. you destroyed your room, the living room, your cabinets, drawers, until you moved onto your bed next. you grabbed your pillow and threw it as your breath scurried away from you. tears filling your eyes as you destroyed everything in your path… until you found it. your cart, you yanked it towards you quickly. putting it to your mouth.

inhale, exhale.

but you felt nothing.

you opened your eyes, your breathing getting increasingly quicker as you stood up. “what the fuck? what the fuck.. what the fuck!” you shouted as you pulled your hair. you kicked your dresser as you rushed around your room. god, you ran into the bathroom. you looked through everything.. to find nothing. nothing, nothing, nothing.

more tears left your eyes, you sat against the wall as you banged your head against it. thinking, thinking, thinking.

you had no money— you had nothing. you couldn’t just call up a dealer. you had nothing. nothing…

your eyes shot open. you stood up quickly, looking around as you swallowed thickly.

something.

you slowly made your way into your room, walking towards the closet as your hands shakily moved towards the knob. opening it slowly as you looked up at the upper shelf of your closet, there sat a gun. you stood on the tips of your toes grabbing it barely with the tips of your fingers as you brought it down.

you stared at it, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes. shakily holding it up, you pointed it towards your head. closing your eyes slowly. god, you were so lost that you didn’t even notice..

“what the hell are you doing?” your eyes shot open. turning around quickly as you looked at the person.. yuji? your breath began to quicken again. and before you knew it you pointed the gun at him. “get out.” you muttered out.

his eyes widened. staring at you, his eyes darting from the gun and back to your face. he took a step back. “look— i.. i don’t know what happened out there, but i can help you. i really can.” he nodded his head as he took a step closer. “just.. please p—“ you interrupted him. aiming it straight at him, your tears drying. “don’t come any closer.” in which he nodded. “right..” he muttered as he held up his hands. “look, i promise. i can get you the help you need— anything just d..”

“stop acting like you’re my friend, yuji.”

“what?”

“i said: Stop acting like you’re my friend.”

“i.. i am your friend. you’re mine.”

“we were never friends! i never asked you to be my friend— i never did! you just decided to come into my life!”

“…”

“you ruined it all! i felt so good.. so relieved.. so alone. and you came and ruined it!”

“you were already ruining yourself!”

“—and how would you have even noticed? you’ve never even spoken to me.”

“but i have. don’t you remember?”

“what..?”

“of course you don’t. when i said i knew you from high school— i didn’t just know you as that big shot on the girls baseball team. we met at a party— and we talked.. and.. we danced. but of course—“

“you’re lying.”

“you would’ve remembered if you didn’t drown yourself in drugs every day and night.” he spat. your eyes widened. lowering the gun, only slightly.

that’s right.. that’s right.

the music was loud, you stood there in your short sparkly royal blue dress as you danced. your friends, people you didn’t know surrounded you as the music blasted. your friends giggled as you all danced, and shouted to communicate over the music.

you felt a bit dehydrated, as all you did was drink and dance. drink as in alcohol.

“i’m uh.. gonna go get a drink!” you shouted to your friends, in which they all nodded. as you pushed your way through the crowded room full of dancing high school students you walked over to the table full of foods, drinks, alcohol.. but you grabbed a water. twisting the top off as you brought it to your lips.

“fun party, right?” a male voice from behind you said. you turned around, a smile tugging at your lips. yuji itadori. “funny seeing you here.” you said with a soft chuckle. “but yeah, fun, i guess.” you replied.

“you look good!”

“what?”

“i said, you look good!”

you giggle to yourself as you tap your ear, the music blasting.

“i can’t hear you!”

yuji chuckled to himself before taking a few steps closer, “i said you look good!” he said with a smile as he stared at you.

you stared at him, a bit surprised by the compliment before smiling. “thank you, yuji.” you said softly, staring up at him.

the two standing in front of each other with soft gazes.

now stare at each other in fear, confusion, and despair.

“please.” yuji says again, “put the gun down.” his voice breaking a bit. and all you do is stare, the tears welling up in your eyes as you just collapse onto the floor. sobbing like a child. the gun beside you, but not in your possession.

and without hesitation itadori runs towards you, kneeling down as he helps you up slightly. “it’s okay, don’t cry, don’t cry.” his voice soft, he wipes your tears with care as you sit up on your knees. holding you in his arms as he sits on his own knees. “i’m here.” he says softly.

“i’m sorry, yuji.” you choke out as he wipes your tears, staring at him as he holds you in his arms.

“i don’t know what i’m supposed to do.” you sob out.

he lets out a heavy sigh. “i’ll be here with you, okay?” he pulls you closer to him. and you let him. your head lay against his chest, he leans back against the foot of your bed. holding you close to him as he tilts his head back. stroking your hair as you sob into his chest.

“just the two of us.”

[percywinchester27]

*Waves nervously* Hey, guys! It’s me... back again :)

Firstly, thank you so much for the kind messages. You folks are some of the sweetest peeps around, no kidding. I actually did make a long post explaining everything about a month back, but tumblr being tumblr glitched and the post was lost forever to the tumblr abys when I hit ‘post.’ I didn’t have it in me then to rewrite the whole thing. The gist of it is:

1. My grandmother passed away (That bit everyone knows because it was the last post I made)

2. Two days after that, I decided to mess up my life even more and end a ten-year-old kind-of relationship. People who have been following me for a while now would know about it.

3. College life got really, really hard all of a sudden. The academic pressure, unnecessarily severe HOD and crushing work burden basically left me with no time to write or be here. 

4. This was my first time living by myself in a new city and I have no shame in admitting that I underestimated how much effort it is to keep yourself alive, pay the rent by yourself and adjust to living in a whole new city.

5. I got sick in the middle. Really sick. Lost 12 pounds kind of sick. It sucked.

Long story short, I feel like a different person from the one who posted the last chapter of ‘The New Mrs. Winchester.’ The girl who envisioned the story had fallen out of love long ago and clung to the series by making it a coping mechanism, to continue living in denial, afraid to spit out the words that would end the relationship. The reader in the series had a man who understood her trauma, and treated her the way she needed to be treated... and I didn’t have that in real life. The series had become an escape of sorts. But the more I wrote it, the more resentful I felt for what the reader had and what I didn’t. That’s never good, right? Starting to envy your own creation?

Then my grandmother passed. And you know that reckless self-destructive urge to wreck everything when even one thing goes wrong? Yeah, that’s what made me pick up the phone and end it. I did it by text because my voice wouldn’t hold and I couldn’t stop crying. I think I cried for hours in my tiny room. Then the next day I had to leave for a study trip so I didn’t even have the support of my friends... no shoulder to cry on. Back then, I thought I deserved to feel the pain, deserved to be alone and deal with it myself because I was hurting a good soul. It was a dark time. Everything seemed to be falling apart. 

In the end, he was quite nice about it, and we ended it like two mature people with nothing but best wishes for one another. I hope he is happy in the country he wants to make his home. 

It’s been five months since. I am doing so much better now. I have adjusted to the losses and recovered about ten pounds ;) I’ve also started seeing someone new. He’s very good to me :)

For the summer months, I’m back home. Agreed there’s a 45 hours a week internship, but I don’t have to fend for myself day in and day out. So, while there are no promises... I’ll do my best to get back to writing! I am hoping to get some of my writing inspiration back... So fingers crossed? ;)

If you’ve stuck around till here.... once again, thank you for not ditching my ass in the five months of radio silence. You guys are truly something.

Love always!

-Ana xoxo

[mrskenpachizaraki]

The Warriors Princess part 1

Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic! I hope you like it! Thank you for the amazing writers that inspired me. It’s not the best but I will have to edit later.

Tsuji & Shibaman x Ice’s younger sister x Platonic Ice and Diddy and Mighty Warriors

“You know this is a big deal right? The last thing you two need to do is make a fool out of yourselves.” Todoroki said from his normal position on the coach on the roof. Everyone was giving the two advice on how to act while meeting their girlfriends older brothers.

“Don’t back down from them.” - Yasushi

“Fight them to show you two are the best.” - Kiyoshi

“Don’t fight!!! Show them you have style.” - Nakagoshi

“What?!? No show how strong you are. Fight them!” - Nakaoka

“Maybe just be yourselves? That’s why your girlfriend likes you both, not for your ability to pick a fight.” - Tsukasa

“No! You need to show them that you can protect (Y/N)-chan. Fight them!” - Fujio

The group continued to throw out advice at the two which only increased their nervousness. The two really liked the girl so they didn’t want to mess it up. The only thing they really knew how to do right is fight and their music….. Maybe they should pick a fight with them.

“Okay everyone. Shut the fuck up.” Todoroki shouted, shutting the others up for a moment before they yelled back at him. He only sighed before he focused on the two.

“Do not pick a fight with her brothers. You guy’s already seen how she fights and that means she learned it from some where. Probably more deadly. You two pick a fight, you will be thrown back here beaten and with no girlfriend.” He told the two sternly, hoping they understood.

Tsuji and Shibaman nod at their friends words. They remember the day they met their girlfriend. They had been walking to their favorite restaurant when they could hear shouting coming from the side of the restaurant. When they looked they could see the most beautiful girl they have ever seen. (Yes they talked about it afterwards.) She had been surrounded by a group of men in black, but she looked bored. When they were about to shout at the men to leave her alone, she suddenly kicked two of them sending them flying into another two. She suddenly punched another in the face, sending him to the floor while another tried to grab her from behind before she flipped them off of her and snapping their arm. Before they knew it all the guys were passed out. (You can not tell me Ice and Diddy don’t train their younger sibling. I see not only them but the rest of the Mighty Warriors as well.)

The only thing they could say out loud was “Wow.” at the same time. This caused the girl to turn her attention to them. They could see the girl was tense still so they raised their hands in surrender to show they were not their to fight. This caused the girl to relax a little but not completely. The two introduced themselves and that’s when they met (Y/N). They asked her if she wanted to eat with them. A little confused, she said yes.

The three start talking and hanging out almost every day after school and soon enough Tsuji and Shibaman ask the girl out and she accepts them both.

After a few months of dating though she tells them her older brothers and their friends want to meet them. This brings us back to their situation today.

“I don’t want us to lose her though.” Shibaman states quietly, gently running his hand over the bracelet (Y/N) got him a few weeks ago.

“She actually accepts us. Not just one or the other, but both. She doesn’t expect us to do things for her. She doesn’t try to ditch one for the other. She just wants us. No one has ever just wanted us.” Tsuji added afterwards, gripping the necklace that (Y/N) has also gotten him at the same time.

Todoroki sighed, but he knew his friends were serious. When he first met (Y/N) he hadn’t been sure if she was with them for the right reasons but after seeing them all together and happy he knew they were right for each other. He also knew she was good because once Fujio meet her he was excited and talking with her without a care in the world. Tsukasa right behind him just listening, but would smile at a few come backs.

“Maybe we can follow you on the meeting. That way if something goes wrong. We can help.” Fujio suggested which was followed by loud agreement by the rest of the group ( Besides Tsukasa who thought it was a bad idea.) Todoroki couldn’t help the four head smack to himself at the suggestion, leaving a large red imprint on his forehead. Though the suggestion seemed to relax the two. Todoroki sighed.

“Fine, we’ll follow, but only for 30 minutes. If it seems like it’s going good. We’re leaving.” Todoroki stated causing the others to shout in excitement. “Where are you meeting her and her brothers?”

Tsuji pulled out his phone and opened his messages before looking at everyone else “Does anyone remember where the Funk Jungle is?