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#my ears are still deafened from the screaming
andcars · 2 days
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# 𝗖𝗦𝟱𝟱 ─── TO THE PODIUM N' BACK DOWN MASTERLIST . . . REQUEST ME . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3
IT'S YOUR FIRST WIN with carlos trailing behind you. to celebrate, the both of you hit the club. things ensues, sexual tensions are sexual, and holy shit he just pinned you to the bathroom door and fucked you raw. ────── original prompt req.
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PROMPTED DIALOGUE . . . # “We can run away together, somewhere far away” + “We’ll only be caught if you’re loud” PROMPTED TAGS . . . # breeding kink, bareback, obsessive behaviour, body worship, teammate!reader ADD. TAGS . . . # cunnilingus, slick as lube, wall sex, semi-public sex, creampie WORD COUNT. . . # 2k
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The victory anthem plays as champagne is sprayed all over you. There’s nowhere to hide from the liquid shooting at you from both ends. It’s warm. It smells addicting. You’re living the high of being a winner and Carlos is right there with you.
When most of everyone’s champagne has spilled, you drink yours to the bottom of the bottle. The adrenaline screams at you. Your heart is still finding its resting pace. You think to yourself, You really got your first fucking win.
Coming down from the podium, Carlos has a hand on your back. “You did well, mi reina (my queen). How are you celebrating?”
You don’t have to say a word to him to tell him. He laughs beside you when you stay silent.
“We can always run off,” he suggests, “we aren’t needed anymore.”
“I’m pretty sure we will be,” you retaliate, despite not caring anyways.
He tells you, ignoring your concerns, “We can go somewhere far from here. Where they won’t find us.”
You look at him then. He’s already looking at you. The smile on your face is something he’s seen time and time again. You don’t think he’ll get tired of it. “Sounds like a plan.”
────── SHORT WHILE LATER. . .
The club music roars in your ears. There is not a single drop of alcohol in your body and yet you feel like you’re intoxicated from the win alone. It’s like your body knows.
In the edge of the crowd, your body is pressed up with Carlos. For the greater part of this season, he has been helping place high into the ranks. More often than not, you out-qualify him in the race. 
Ferrari finds their strategy and you have never been more glad to be the one to receive the win. Turning around, you place your arms around Carlos' neck.
Maybe it’s still the high of the win. Maybe it’s because Carlos has been nothing but a good teammate.
It really could just be because he’s really hot.
“You’re looking at me,” he says, like an idiot.
“Not like you don’t look at me first,” you tell him. “Always following me around, one would say you’re my stalker.”
Both of you know it’s true. The amount of times he would follow you around the garage though he has his own duties. In the hospitality, he would find anything just to keep the both of you together.
You've watched the onboards, him always inquiring where you stand. You know he always finds a way to make sure you’re beside him in the rankings.
He shrugs, barely hiding it. “I like being with you. Should there anything be more than that?”
Without thinking about it anymore, you pull him for a kiss. He comes easily, body pressed against yours as warmth spreads between the two of you. The taste of champagne is still on his tongue.
Of course he loves you. It’s like he got one taste of you and he can’t get rid of you now. His tongue memorised the shape of your lips. His mouth can’t help but utter your name. Now, his hands find themselves on your hip. In slow strokes, he caresses you tenderly yet his kisses tells differently. It’s hungry. It’s insatiable. You can barely breathe under the pressure.
When his lips trailed down your neck, you moaned.
“You like that, corazón (heart)?” he gasps, the sound barely noticeable over the deafening music. “You like it here?”
He doesn’t need to hear your response as his kisses and turns to bites. You squirm under him. Both of his hands come to steady you by the hips, immobilising you in his arms. He’s heavy on you, his dominance alluring you to give in. Fucking addicting, so fucking good.
You don’t think about why you let Carlos take you like this in the corner of the floor. His touch feels electrifying. His body is warm—fucking hot. It’s in the way he sways you to the music and the open mouthed bites on your neck.
“Carlos,” you breathe out as you pull him away, “maybe don’t fuck me in public.”
He laughs, seeing the sly grin on your face. “Surely you won’t mind the bathroom? I don’t think I can go far like this.”
Pretending to ponder about making Carlos exit the club with a hard on and you by his side, you lean against him. “I'll tell the whole world how ungentlemanly you are.”
“You’ll tell the world about us?”
You smile, “I’ll tell the universe about us.”
With his hand in yours, he leads you to the bathroom. You’re thankful that it’s not like one of those dingy bathrooms in most clubs. Despite wanting to fuck your teammate this bad, you don’t think you can stand the smell of vomit and piss.
Carlos takes you to a room inside—this level of privacy for a singular toilet is crazy, but then again, you're sure this was often visited for sex—and pins you by the door.
It’s not tight in here and yet he finds a way to suffocate you. One of your legs wrap around him as he undresses you. The strap of your dress falls and the skirt is pulled up. He moans against your skin as his hands love your ass.
“Carlos,” you moan, his hands feeling your cold skin, “fucking hell…”
Distantly, you hear the bathroom door open. Carlos chuckles against your neck, kissing it after. “Better be quiet, corazón. Unless you wanna tell the universe now?”
“Shut the fuck up, Sainz.” You pull him to a kiss as he unbuckles himself. The need to grind into him is convincing. You’re weak against him, letting your panties caress his erection.
He sighs, his mouth biting at your bottom lip at your crudeness. You hear him swear under his breath, mumbling something in Spanish as he finally pulls out his cock.
Before you could offer him anything, he pulled away to kneel. You moan at the sight. He pulls up your skirt and practically breathes in against your clothed cunt. Your underwear is a futile barrier.
He pulls it off with one hand as he spits in the other. You tug at his hair as he goes forward, kissing your clit and his finger fucking into you.
“Shit…” you moan, trying to stifle it afterwards with your arm, “Carlos.”
His eyes look up at you. Your little pleads don’t stop him as his mouth trails lower to your hole, peppering kisses on it as his finger rubs your insides. He gets two more fingers in easily with the wetness. Your thigh quivers around him and you pull his hair.
A whine leaves you when his fingers leave. It was too short. You want more. He hears you and is quick to replace it with his other fingers, drier yet more eager to stretch you out. Though your view is obstructed, you can hear his hand working his own cock. 
It makes you feel manic the fact he’s using your own slick as his lube.
“Fuck, Carlos,” you moan, a leg over his shoulder. Your cunt is directly over his mouth, his nose bumping into your clit perfectly. This is enough to drive you fucking crazy. 
You’re close. The beat of the club thrums with your heart. His tongue is lapping at your leaking pussy as four fingers stretch you out. You’re entirely sure that you’re being heard throughout the bathroom now. It doesn’t matter. You don’t care—
He stops. You squirm on top of him as he comes back up to you. “Corazón,” he whispers as his fingers pull out to tease your clit. “So pretty, so good for me…”
“You fucking tease,” you grunt. He smiles at you.
“I want you to cum on me, huh?” his hand is noisy as it fucks his cock with your juices. “My girl, always want to see you come apart for me.”
However much you wanna hit him right now, it dissapates as his cock slaps at your hole. You wince, “Carlos!” and throw an arm around him.
“So beautiful,” he pants, “tastes so good to me. Tastes like a winner.”
You wanna retaliate. You wanna whine and say no to his love. But he pushes his cock inside of you without protection and it makes you lose your head.
“Carlos, condom—”
“There’s none here,” he says, breathless as he enjoys the way you clench around him. “There’s none. Either I leave you like this or I fuck you raw.”
True to his words, he does fuck you raw. Every thrust of his bare cock inside of you drives you crazy. His warmth, his skin, his leaking pre-cum all touching the most intimate part of you. Just the thought that this is the closest he's ever been with you makes you wanna cum.
“So fucking good,” he says, breath tickling your neck. “My girl, corazón, so fucking loose on me.
“You’re so hot. So wet. I want to keep fucking you like this. Feel my cum drip down your cunt—” you moan—”as you get so full of me.”
Carlos is lost in his own fantasy. He thrusts into you harder, your hips moving along his as you relish in the idea together. He doesn’t miss the way you clench harder on him. The way your moans just get a little bit louder.
“You’d like that?” he asked, “Don’t want me to pull out? Does my girl want to keep my cum inside of her? Fuck her full until she’s bred full?”
“Carlos—!” you scream out into his neck, hiding your red face. “You fucking- oh God, yes, fuck! Just like that, baby. Fucking breed me.”
He doesn’t need to be told again. Your moans echo through the room as your hands pull at his head. He kisses down your jaw, to your neck, and bites and marks you.
You don’t understand him anymore. He murmurs to you in Spanish which you don’t understand. But the way his teeth scrapes, his hand tightens, his hips fucking into you like they’re determined to stuff you full with his semen. You can’t stop yourself from cumming all over him.
His pace is overstimulating, too much for you. Though he slows down, his cock grinding into you has you punching his back.
Carlos understands perfectly. He pulls out with only half his cock inside, still erect, still wanting to feel you. You don’t get him soft as your hands go down to finish him off.
“Fuck,” he grunts as you feel him resist the urge to fuck your first. Your delicate hands moving on him with the head of his cock still feeling your pulsating pussy. He’s fighting everything not to give in to this bliss.
“Come on, Carlos,” you say, “cum in me. Let yourself win today too.”
He looks into your eyes and you can see something primal behind them. Though he doesn’t move, he forces your lips to lock with his. Your hand falters as you taste yourself on his tongue. But his hands intertwine with yours, helping you finish him off.
“So good,” he says between breathing, “letting me have you like this—how I’ve always wanted.
“I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m gonna cum in your pretty little pussy.”
Few more strokes and he finishes inside of you with a loud moan. You feel it splatter your insides and your legs give in for just a moment. He holds you upright. His grip on you is strong but never enough to bruise. You know that he was never one to hurt you.
Only after calming down could you hear both of your cum drip down onto the tiles. You blush, whining a little. “Carlos,” you say, “I can’t go out like this.”
“Like you became mine?”
You punch his chest. “Like I’m a fucking whore!”
He laughs and presses a short kiss on your lips. “Mhm, I don’t know, I like seeing you dirty like this.”
After he cleans you up, you hit him in the head for being such a dumbass. He doesn’t really look like he cares. Not with those hearts in his eyes.
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🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . the funniest bit is that i was finishing up the graphic for this fic as i watched carlos hit the barriers in singapore q3- so, that happened. anyways! working on a lot of requests so i hope this one is a great start for everyone . ˎˊ˗ ᝰ. ──── 📨 @delululeclerc @hiireadstuff
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you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡
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daydreamerwoah · 4 hours
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Love Through It All Pt. 14
tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce; hurt; angst; anger; rollercoaster of emotion; sadness; arguing; crying; mentions of therapy/counseling; kidnapping; violence; guns; injury; death
Please read Part 1 for my author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.
For the sake of the story.... let's just pretend that 141 and Laswell worked their magic and Price, Kyle, and Johnny made it just in time lmao! I know that's not how it works in real life :)
You jumped when you heard a loud BANG go off. But it wasn't the sound of Jax's gun that made you jump. It sounded more muffled - more distant - like it was on the other side of the door and down the hallway. You opened your eyes, releasing the breath that you were holding, seeing Simon very much still alive and looking directly at you.
However, the other four men inside of the room turned to the face the door with their guns pointed. Andrei said something in Russian before the two guards walked up to the door. There was a brief pause, as Andrei walked up behind them before one of the men opened it and they left the room.
God, you were fucking scared.
When the sound of multiple gunshots rang outside of the room, you wished you could have been able to cover your ears, the loud popping noises felt like it was deafening you. Surely, you wouldn't be able to hear after that.
In a moment of panic, Jax marched over and stood beside you, pointing his gun at the side of your head. Simon continued to look at you, the chaos not even phasing him. At least on the outside... on the inside, he was worried. Half secretly thanking whatever god there was that Johnny saw the damn text, but half nervous about whose shots were going off.
Then there was silence. Ghostly silence.
The only thing that could be heard were your small sniffles and Jax's heavy breathing. The anticipation of who was about to walk through that door had both you and Simon's pulse racing. But when three sets of footsteps quickly walked in, and you saw three men you instantly recognized, you wanted to let out a scream of happiness. And by the look on your face, Simon knew exactly who walked in, as his back had been facing the door this entire time.
"Let 'em go," Price commanded, his weapon pointed to Jax.
A menacing chuckle left Jax's mouth, "I will shoot her," he said, pushing the barrel of the gun against your temple, making you whimper.
"Let my wife go Jax," Simon said, making the man narrow his eyes at him.
"No," he growled, "You're going to suffer just like we did! All of you! I will kill every single one of you!"
"Then let's talk 'bout it," Johnny chimed in.
Jax threw his head back a little as he laughed, "Talk about it?.. we're done talking. Your nation should have talked about it four years ago! But now..... now you will pay," he quickly glanced at you, holding that evil smirk as always.
The moment his finger tried to pull the trigger, a shot rang out. John's perfect aim successfully pierced a bullet through Jax's head, instantly killing him as his body fell backward to the ground. Simon's body relaxed before Johnny rushed to his friend, cutting the ropes and freeing him, while Kyle ran over to you, doing the same as well as pulling the duct tape off of your mouth.
"You okay?" He asked. But you barely could nod your head.
Your body felt like mush and static at the same time, with the flow of blood finally making its way back into your hands and feet. But that wasn't the only feeling that you had. The second that Simon was kneeling down in front of you, you lurched out of the chair into his arms. You thought you had cried so much that you couldn't produce any more tears, but when his arms wrapped around your waist, you felt so many emotions. The one that topped them all was love.
"I got you, sweetheart. I got you," He said into the crook of your neck.
You couldn't even respond, the only noise coming from you was the slight wailing of cries. It was all too much. And it came crashing down all at once. But you knew one thing... you and Simon made it out alive.
************************************************************************
141 stood in the conference room while Laswell was displayed on the monitor. It was.. strange - talking about a mission that involved you. At least it was for your husband.
Never in a million years did Simon want to talk about such things like death and evilness when it came to you... but there he was, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as Laswell explained everything; the truth.
Jax - whose real name was Leonid - had disguised himself as a British soldier in order to obtain access on base. His main goal was to use Pvt Williams as a means to get personal information on certain individuals... including 141. He had no intention of bringing you into the situation.. even when he sent you the videos. He was a young soldier - a pawn in the bigger picture - and at first, he didn't really want to get any civilians involved. (He had somewhat of a heart at least... or he wasn't as much of a killer as he seemed) That was something they had yet to figure out. But it made sense as to why he tried getting you to leave Simon by approaching you with some bullshit story that day.
But when his superior, Andrei, found out that things were taking a little bit longer than planned, he took over the operation, deciding to kidnap you. The only thing Jax almost begged to do was at least make Simon suffer for cheating on you.
But why did all of this happen? Why did they do this?
Because four years earlier, 141 captured their leader. Their commander.
Vladimir Makarov.
They wanted revenge.
"Nolan escaped. He's still out there Laswell," Kyle said.
When the three of them sneaked their way into the building and came in contact with Andrei and the guards, shots rang out, but somehow Andrei Nolan had escaped through the chaos. He was still out there.... and they needed to plan what was going to happen next.
"For now, we need to make sure everythin' is secure," Price said before turning to Simon, "How's Y/n doin'?" He asked.
He nodded, "Fine."
You were, for the most part. After you and Simon were rescued, you were taken to the hospital on base to make sure everything was okay. You kept telling Simon you really didn't need to go, but he insisted you got checked out. Because of the bruising on your wrists and ankles, they decided to keep you overnight for observation. It was ridiculous and you wanted to leave, but with your husband right by your side, it made things easier.
And by your side, he would stay until Price called him for debriefing. He didn't want to leave... he almost told the guys to come to the hospital, but you persuaded him to go and that you'd be fine. So he left.... reluctantly so. But before he did, he made sure the nurses kept an eye on your door. No one was allowed to go in except him or the doctor.
"Talk to her 'bout the plans yeah? Don't wanna risk us losing her again," Price continued.
Again, Simon nodded before leaving and heading right back to the hospital; to you. When he walked into the room, your eyes were closed. The quiet noise from the TV let him know you probably had been watching it before drifting off to sleep. He sat down in the chair next to the bed as he looked at you, eyes glancing down at your wrist. The purple bruises causing a tightening feeling in his stomach.
You were never supposed to be hurt. By him. By Jax. By no one in the world. You were pure - heart and all. Yet you had gone through more pain than he ever imagined. He didn't think he could live with himself if you had been killed.
With a soft sigh, your eyes fluttered open as you looked up at the ceiling, waking up from your dreamless nap. Your eyes shifted and met those of your husbands, a small smile forming on your lips that made his heart lunge out for you.
"Hey," you whispered, "How'd it go?"
His hand reached out to you and grabbed yours softly, his thumb rubbing the knuckles of your hand in comfort, "Fine."
You hummed, eyes grazing over his balaclava. You briefly remembered about the first time you met him. The balaclava intimating you in a curious way.. you were so curious about him; about his life But never were you afraid of him. He tried so hard to keep you at arm's length, even when he was falling for you. And you kept tearing down the shields he wanted so hard to remain between you two.
Nothing could have prepared you for what would happen seven years later. After he proposed. After the wedding. It was difficult to think about it.
"I'm sorry," he lowly said, making your eyes meet his again.
Softly shaking your head, "It's okay Si-"
"No. It's not," He swallowed the lump in his throat, "I ruined everythin'. I hurt you... in more ways than I ever thought I would. I don't deserve you."
His eyes began to water at seeing how yours were starting to. A moment went by as you stared at each other. You didn't know what he was thinking, but you knew how you felt.
"I love you," you said, making his eyebrows furrow a little. It wasn't that he didn't want to hear you say it. He just knew he didn't deserve your love anymore... yet there you were, giving it to him. "I love you so fucking much, Simon. And I always will," You said, making his eyes soften.
"You deserve better than me," He said.
A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about what you both had become, "But I want to be with you."
It was hard hearing you say that for him. He knew every muscle in his body was telling him to let you go; to bring you peace and happiness. But hearing you say that you wanted to be with him made his stomach flip.
"I promise I'll do whatever you want. I'll make this right sweetheart," He said, his own tear falling from his eye before it disappeared into the cotton material of the balaclava, "I love you."
That small smile turned into a bigger one as you nodded, making a smile form on his own lips - one that you could even see with the crinkle of his eyes. He continued to hold your hand, the two of you sitting in silence and gazing into each other's tearful eyes.
You didn't know what the future would hold for your marriage. You didn't know if things would turn out the opposite of what you just told him. But one thing was for certain... you loved that man with all of you. And that's all that mattered - to love through it all.
THE END.
Well..... that's it for "Love Through It All"... (at least the initial plot). I would like to continue this on as Andrei got away so we don't know what happened after that do we? lol! If you're interested in it, let me know. I also may continue this on over on my AO3 account (I do plan to post this over there as well). And eventually I also may do some edits to the story and change a few things but I'm not sure yet :)I did have some people ask about doing an alternate ending where reader leaves Simon, so sometime this week I do plan to start writing that and post it. I just want to make sure I'm not changing too much to the plot. If you all think I may have left some things out and you want to ask questions about any "behind the scenes" on something in the story, feel free to ask away or message me!
This has been a joy to write and share with you all! I usually start stories and then get bad writer's block to the point where I never finish them, so I'm so glad you all took this journey with me!
I do have two other stories on my AO3 that I started, so I plan to continue them (possibly starting next week I will post a new chapter).
I love you all so much! Take care <3
Taglist: @kalypsoox @fruitymoonbeams-blogz @kylies-love-letter @xrosegoldwolfx @linaaaaa654 @jessicab1991 @darkravenqueen98 @yazyazali @thychuvaluswife @chloeforde @cownini @ssc7514
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cappurrccino · 1 year
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I need like. bluetooth earbuds that are soft and squishy and malleable like foam earplugs but that are also 100% sound canceling, but, and I cannot stress enough, can still play music
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of-many-fandomss · 5 months
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if you could, maybe a fic where reader is the youngest on the grid, and has lost her father. anyway, she wins a grand prix (whatever you’re feeling, it doesn’t matter which one!), and just immediately runs to charles because she knows her dad’s not there to see her big win. he’s immediately taken back but then understands why she came to him and is there to comfort her
and maybe she invites him up on the podium with her!!
thanks :))
Proud
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summary: your father was no longer there, but your next biggest supporter was
paring: charles leclerc x reader platonic
warnings: mentions of parental death
word count: 0.6k
a/n: in honor of my baby lando getting his first win 🥹🧡
・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.
The blur of your vision no doubt made it borderline dangerous to be driving- but you couldn’t care. Not one single bit.
Not as you pulled into the spot reserved just for you, a p1 resting against the poster right in front of your car that you could barely make out.
A sob raked through your body suddenly and you dropped your hemelt clad head into your hands, breathing shaky and heart rate still accelerated.
You took a moment for yourself, your eyes squeezed shut and your senses buzzing. There were screams of the crowd around you, each one of them celebrating your victory in a deafening roar of pure thrill and excitement.
Finally, you jumped out of your car, ripping the hemelt from off of your head just in time to see an all too familiar Red Bull vehicle pull up to your right and a Ferrari to your left, taking up their respective places by your side.
Whipping around, you paid no mind to the cheers of congratulations from your team, nor the reporters that tried to invade your space as you raced as quickly as you could to the bright red Ferrari.
Charles hopped out of his car just in time for you to crash into his arms, eyes once again squeezed shut as you hugged the man tightly.
The man stumbled back a bit- having already shed his helmet- eyes slightly wide as he looked down at you, but softened as he watched you finally let the tears flow free from your eyes ducts.
He recovered quickly and hurtfully swept you into his embrace, holding you just as tightly as you were holding him, neither of you tuned into any of the hundreds of cameras that were snapping all around you.
After so much hard work- after so much dedication- you had finally done it. You had finally won your Grand Prix- and one on your home track nonetheless.
The tears were partially for the dedication that was finally paying off, but it was mostly for the man that you wish was by your side at the moment.
Your father.
The man that had always been your biggest supporter, through and through.
From your karting days to when you finally signed on with Red Bull just over five months ago when you turned eighteen.
Only two months later, he had passed away from a sudden and quick disease that had left you and the rest of your family utterly heartbroken.
Even before he had been gone, Charles had been quick to take you under his wing. You weren’t his teammate, and yet, he couldn’t help the sense of responsibility that took over him when he had first gazed upon you. He had wanted nothing more than to make you feel welcomed and safe in formula 1.
And that’s what he did.
When you had lost the man that had been your biggest supporter- Leclerc became just as large of one.
“I’m so proud of you,” He murmured in your ear for only you to hear, listening to the way you were hiccuping against the material of his tracksuit, “Your father would be so proud.”
You squeezed him tighter for a moment before pulling away, laughing slightly through teary eyes at him.
Charles smiled, moving a piece of hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear, “I’m so proud of you.” He repeated.
“Thank you,” You whispered.
Thank you for saying it. Thank you for looking out for me- for always being there.
Though you didn’t say the words, your eyes shone brightly with them and the man understood.
He nodded before taking his gloved hand in yours, “Come on, let’s get you to your first top spot on the podium.”
When you turned around, you were greeted with the sight of screaming, ecstatic fans, and beaming drivers.
Each and every person in that place was so proud of you, but none smiled as brightly as Charles when you mounted the top of the podium and held your trophy up high.
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secretsofafangirll · 5 months
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video star
summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.
warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.
a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.
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"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."
"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.
"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.
"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.
"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.
I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.
"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.
"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.
"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.
"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.
"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.
Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.
"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.
"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."
"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.
"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."
"Loser", Nick teased.
"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."
As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.
I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.
Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.
"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.
What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.
"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.
I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.
"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.
Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.
Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.
Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.
"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.
At least I thought they were yelling at each other...
Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.
"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.
Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.
"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."
"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.
"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.
When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.
"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 
"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.
"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.
"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.
"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.
"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.
"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."
"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.
"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.
I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."
"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.
"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.
"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...
//
author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.
all the love, she <3
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inkspiredwriting · 1 month
Text
betrayal
A/N: four stages of breakup, I'm currently in stage two: Anger xD. A sweet story with a sweet five who loves y/n more than anything? At the moment I just don't see it. That's why I don't post any of my stories, but rather write new stories where Five is an asshole. That doesn't mean that I'll never post sweet five x Y/N stories again, it just means that I'm still angry at the moment, and in order to be able to write again, it helps me to let my anger out
Warnings: spoilers for season 4 episode 5-6, angst
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The world had barely spun for a few hours since Five and Lila had vanished, but when Five and Lila finally returned, Y/N knew something was wrong. she stood in the doorway, watching Five and Lila enter the living room, their faces marked with weariness, their eyes carrying the weight of experiences that no one else could understand. The moment Five met her gaze, Y/N felt her heart clench. Something was wrong. There was a distance in his eyes, a hesitation in his movements that hadn't been there before. This was not the same man she had fallen in love with, the man who had fought tooth and nail to survive countless apocalypses, who had faced the end of the world and returned to her every single time. This man was different—distant, almost as if a part of him had never truly come back.
Lila stood beside him, her presence like a shadow that Y/N couldn’t shake. she had always known Lila was fierce, cunning, and strong, but now she could see something more—a bond between Lila and Five that hadn't been there before. It was in the way they stood, too close, the way they glanced at each other as if sharing secrets. It made Y/N’s stomach churn with a sickening sense of betrayal.
She knew something had changed, something that would shatter her world.
It wasn’t long before she couldn’t stand it any longer. “Five…” Y/N’s voice wavered as she stepped forward, searching his face for any sign of the man she loved. But he looked away, his jaw tightening as if he couldn’t bear to meet her eyes.
the tension in the air was palpable. Diego stood beside Lila, their three children clinging to their mother, oblivious to the storm brewing beneath the surface.
Y/N felt the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, but she held them back. She couldn’t fall apart. Not yet.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Five’s silence was deafening, and when he finally spoke, his words cut through her like a knife. “We were gone for seven years, Y/N. Seven years in a timeline we couldn’t escape.”
Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest, the blood rushing in her ears. “I know it was hard, but you made it back. You’re here now. We can fix this, Five. We can go back to how it was.”
Five shook his head, the pain in his eyes unbearable to witness. “It’s not that simple. Things changed… I changed. I didn’t want this to happen, but…I fell in love with Lila.”
Time seemed to stop. The world around Y/N blurred, and all she could hear was the sound of her own heart shattering into a million pieces. She stared at Five, her mind refusing to comprehend the words that had just come out of his mouth. Lila? Lila, who was married to Diego, who had three children with him?
Y/N felt the blood drain from her face, her vision narrowing as the weight of his confession settled on her shoulders. She wanted to scream, to hit him, to do anything to make the pain go away, but all she could do was stand there, trembling with fury and betrayal.
"You bastard," she whispered, her voice low and deadly. "You absolute bastard."
Five recoiled as if she had slapped him, but she didn’t care. The anger was boiling over now, a volcano ready to erupt. The room was deadly silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Everyone was staring at them now, the shock evident on their faces. Diego’s expression was unreadable, his eyes fixed on Lila, who looked like she wanted to disappear into the floor.
"You want to know what kind of man you are, Five?" Y/N spat, her voice shaking with fury as she faced him and the others. "You’re an asshole. An ungrateful, selfish asshole who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants long enough to remember the woman he was supposed to love!"
The room fell into stunned silence, everyone staring at Y/N with wide eyes. Five opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N cut him off.
“How could you? After everything we’ve been through, after everything we’ve fought for, you go and…fall in love with someone else? And not just anyone, but Lila? Diego’s wife? The mother of his children? I would rather sleep with a mannequin than ever fall in love with someone else, but I guess that’s the difference between us, isn’t it?"
Five flinched, but he didn’t back down. “I never meant for this to happen, Y/N. We were stuck there for seven years. We didn’t think we’d ever make it back.”
“So you gave up?” Y/N’s voice was rising now, the anger bubbling over. “You just gave up on us, on me? You preferred to think about having sex with Lila instead of finding a way back to me? The old Five never gave up. He never would’ve stopped fighting to get back to the people he loved. But you…you’re not him anymore, are you?”
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She turned her gaze to Lila, her voice dripping with venom. “And you…you disgust me. How could you do this to Diego? To your children? You betrayed them. You betrayed all of us.”
Lila’s face paled, her mouth opening and closing as if she wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. Diego stood beside her, his expression still unreadable, but Y/N could see the hurt in his eyes, the pain he was trying so hard to hide.
Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind her. The moment she was outside, the tears she had been holding back finally broke free, streaming down her face as she collapsed onto the cold ground.
She wrapped her arms around herself, sobbing uncontrollably, the pain too much to bear. She had lost him. The man she had loved more than anything, the man she had waited for, had hoped for, had fought for…he was gone. And in his place was someone she didn’t recognize, someone who had betrayed her in the worst possible way.
Y/N had no idea how long she sat there, crying until there were no tears left to cry.. She felt completely and utterly alone, as if the world had turned its back on her.
But then she heard footsteps approaching, and she looked up to see Diego standing beside her. His face was filled with sorrow, his eyes red and puffy, but there was a softness in his expression that offered a small comfort.
“Y/N…” Diego’s voice was gentle as he sat down beside her. He didn’t say anything for a while, just sat there in silence, letting her cry. When she finally managed to calm down enough to speak, her voice was hoarse, broken.
“I don’t understand, Diego. I don’t understand how this happened. How could he fall in love with her? After everything we’ve been through, how could he just…forget about me?”
Diego sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t know, Y/N. I really don’t. Lila and I…we had our problems. I wasn’t always the best husband, and I know why things went wrong between us. But you and Five…you two were perfect together. You were the strongest team I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand how he could do this.”
Y/N let out a shaky breath, the pain still raw and aching in her chest. “I thought we had something special. I thought he loved me more than anything.”
“He did, Y/N. I know he did,” Diego said softly. “I think…I think being stuck there for so long messed with his head. It changed him in ways we can’t understand. But that doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
Y/N sniffled, wiping at her eyes. “I don’t know how to move on from this, Diego. I don’t know how to live in a world where Five isn’t…mine.”
Diego put an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. Y/N leaned into him, grateful for the comfort even as the pain tore at her heart. She felt Diego’s chest heave as he spoke, his voice thick with emotion.
“You’re strong, Y/N. Stronger than anyone I know. You’ll get through this, I promise. And I’ll be here for you, whatever you need.”
Y/N nodded, though the pain still felt unbearable. She clung to Diego, letting the tears flow freely again, her heart breaking with every sob. She had lost the man she loved, the man she thought would be by her side forever. And now, she had to find a way to pick up the pieces and move on, even if it felt impossible.
As the day wore on, the two of them sat together, their grief shared and understood. And while Y/N knew the road ahead would be difficult, she also knew she wasn’t alone. She had her family, her strength, and the hope that someday, the pain would lessen, and she would find a way to heal.
But for now, all she could do was cry and try to make sense of the shattered pieces of her heart.
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Hello everyone, I am Mohamed Almadhoun from the northern Gaza Strip, displaced in Deir Al-Balah, and living in a tent with my family.😢🥺
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We lost our home in Gaza and my father and I lost our source of income and now we live on aids.
And this is the story of losing our home:
14-11-2024 one day before our evacuation to the south.
The situation was so confusing, making it hard for us to determine whether we should stay in Jabalia or evacuate to the evacuation zone or the south. The next day, during the evening prayer's final prostration, house of Al-Hasani, across from us, was. hit by sudden shelling. It was extremely difficult; we felt terror-stricken as the lights went out suddenly, followed by a deafening explosion. My heart stopped_ about 10 seconds, and I felt a strong suffocation due to the smell of gunpowder and the dust swirling in the air!
When the terrifying sound ceased, we were shocked by the devastation that befell us. We saw windows and shattering around us, with shards falling from the ceiling. It was a horrifying sight; I saw my little sister covered in blood, women screaming, and I took my sisters and the out the house to check on their safety.
An ambulance was parked on the street to transport the wounded, so my sister and her baby daughter went with them to Al-Awda Hospital. Thank God, our injuries were minor; I had a wound on my head and slight bleeding, as did my niece, who was injured on her face. After our treatment, we returned home to find it completely destroyed; we had lost everything, and nothing was left intact. After that, I decided to talk to my father about leaving for the south. I can't stay here after this horrific experience.
Thanks to your generous support, we've raised €5,081 of our €50,000 goal, covering the initial coordination for evacuation of one member of our family. I’m deeply grateful for your contributions and help in spreading the campaign. However, we still need to secure the rest of the family.
Our next goal is to raise an additional €4,919 by the end of this week to reach a total of €10,000. This amount will cover the costs for evacuation of my yanger brother and I.
Our campaign is verified by Genei Moon and this is their Telegram account @femmeintifada she has a group of verified families from gaza on telegram
Please continue to support and share the campaign. Every share and donation helps reduce their suffering and brings us closer to our goal.
https://gofund.me/68c086c2
@90-ghost @nabulsi @northgazaupdates2 @el-shab-hussein @fairuzvevo @vakarians-babe @sarazucker @fairuzfakhira @a-nautilus-as-pixel-art @13eyond-13oring @baby-indie-blog @just-browsing1222 @sar-sora @sayruq @appsa @akajustmerry @annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @feluka @markiplier @el-shab-hussein @sayruq @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @vivisection-gf @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @animenta @kordeliiius @commissions4aid-international @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @the-bastard-king @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural
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vapekingg · 2 months
Note
Heyyy bestie, if you’re still looking for Eddie prompts, how about rockstar!eddie that’s like publicly obsessed with his wife, always talking bout her interviews and name dropping her in songs, and so he has gained the reputation of being a “wife guy” to all his fans.
Thank you! Shout out to my wife because I would also be Eddie "The Wife Guy" Munson if I were famous @doomsdaybby
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"How are we feeling tonight, Los Angeles?" Eddie's voice is smooth and steady over the microphone that's stationed at the center of the stage.
The House of Blues. Los Angeles, California. Night eight of their second World Tour.
You and Eddie are used to the limelight. Your relationship had bloomed in it.
From the first day you met at The Hideout, to working the merch table at Corroded Coffin’s first shows, to getting engaged on stage during the encore of closing night on their first world tour.
It became sort of a thing, your romance. The higher Eddie’s band soared on the charts, the more desirable he became, the more the media swarmed you. They had questions, understandably.
Is this gonna last? Are you ever worried when Eddie’s on tour? Do you think he’s been faithful all these years?
As if you could dare to question Eddie's loyalty.
His manager had warned him to break things off with you when they first signed. Guys like him are supposed to remain available. They represent something in Hollywood. The sex, drugs, rock and roll of it all. But whenever those flashing lights started going off, he was quick to grab your hand or pull you into his ribs and fall into the roll of overprotective partner that his groupies so wish that he would abandon.
It's become sort of a thing — him name dropping you any chance he gets.
"The fans want to know, Eddie. What do you look for in a woman?" He'd recently been asked in an interview.
His eyebrows had scrunched up a bit, not understanding the question.
"I look for my wife." He'd responded with a flippant motion of his hand, as if the answer was that obvious.
You stand side-stage now. Eddie waves his arms in the air to egg the crowd on. Their screams are deafening even over the in-ear monitor that he had specially fitted for you.
"That's what I like to hear. All right, this next song goes out to my fucking wife!" He screams into the microphone.
This is the fifth song in a row that he has dedicated to you, and each time it gets the same reaction.
"Babe, this one's for you!" "Love you, sweetheart. This is our jam!" "Everyone give it up for Mrs. Fucking Munson!"
You can't hear your own laughter over the sound of the drums that begin with the strum of his guitar, but it's there. The laughter is always there.
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katsu28 · 2 months
Note
Kissing away their tears with lando, please and thank you!!🫶🏻
anything for you rachel my love <3 ily!
lando norris x reader, 1.6k, there's a crash but no descriptions of injury. request something from here!
“Norris is doing really well today, isn’t he?” 
You’re not sure whose mouth the words come out of, but your head whips in their general direction, as do the rest of folks in the VIP box. Variations of “Shut the fuck up!” echo around the room, people grumbling to each other about those who obviously don’t know one of the biggest unspoken rules in sports. 
Whenever a player, or in this case, a driver, happens to be doing well in a match (or race), you never, ever mention that they are. You can think it, you can say it in your head, but you don’t ever say it out loud. When those words make it out into the open air, bad things happen. 
Call it stupid, call it superstition, but it’s a known sentiment in sports—Formula One especially. It’s like eating the same breakfast or listening to the same song before every race, or wearing a certain item of clothing every race day because you believe it brings you luck.
Does it actually bring you luck? Maybe, maybe not, but you do it anyway because of the possibility that it could. 
You take a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut with a prayer to whatever higher power out there is listening.
Please, please, please don’t let anything fuck up Lando’s race. 
Your prayer is futile.
You hear it before you see it on the TV—a loud crash. Tires skidding over asphalt with a deafening screech, metal grinding on metal, carbon fiber snapping off chassis and skidding across the track.
Instantly, you know there’s been a collision. Your heart leaps into your throat at the single thought that screams its way through your mind like an emergency alarm. 
Was it Lando? 
A hush falls over the track, and suddenly the only thing you can hear is the thundering of your heartbeat in your ears.
On the screen flashes an aerial shot of what you assume is the scene of the crash, but you can’t see much through the smoke and dust. The vague misshapen lump of a mangled car, a wheel rolling away from the wreckage, then—
Your heart drops out of your ass. 
The car is bright orange. And as the cloud of dust gets blown away by the strong wind on track, your eyes zero in on the unmistakable fluoro green of Lando’s helmet.
He’s not moving. 
No, no, no, no. 
Your body is in the move before your brain even realizes you’re running, sprinting through the hall, down the stairs that would take you to the McLaren garage. You’re dodging people, you’re dodging equipment and carts and everything of the sort like a pro. All the while, you feel like you can’t breathe because you don’t know if your boyfriend is okay. You don’t even know if he’s alive. 
That’s what scares you the most. 
You’re stopped by track security before you can enter through to the garage. You show the guard your pass, but he still keeps you there, muttering something into a walkie talkie that you don’t understand. 
“Come on, mate! Do you see what it says? Let me through, please!” You plead, near tears at this point. 
The frantic part of you wants to push right past this knob and find Lando yourself, but you know the only good that’ll do is get yourself thrown out, and that’s the last thing you need right now. Your best option is to play nice, despite all the worst thoughts running rampant in your mind. 
The guard takes what seems like a lifetime to look over your pass, glances up at you, then back down to the pass, but steps aside eventually, waving you into the bustling garage. You force yourself to calm down a smidge, not wanting to disturb any part of Oscar’s race. 
From there, it’s not hard to find Lando’s race engineer. Will looks less worried than you, even as he paces back and forth with his headphones still on. 
“Will!” You blurt, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the tall man. “Please tell me he’s okay.” 
“There you are! I sent someone up to the box to fetch you ages ago. Lando’s at the medical center now, he’s conscious, coherent,” Will says. You let out a sigh of barely there relief. At least he’s alive. “He was asking for you. Reckon you’ll be able to see him after the medics check him out, if you want to go wait there.” 
“Yes. Yeah, yes, thank you, Will,” You breathe, wrangling him in a quick hug before making a mad dash back through the halls towards the medical station.
You’re panting when you get there, fully aware you probably look mental to any sane person, but you don’t care. All you care about is getting to Lando. “Hi, where’s Lando Norris? McLaren driver, number 4, was brought in after the crash at turn ten?” 
The friendly looking woman at the front table smiles sympathetically. “You’re his girlfriend, aren’t you? He told us you’d be worried. Wanted us to make sure someone found you.” 
“I am, yeah. Is he—can I see him?” 
“Sorry, dear. The medic team is still doing their tests and all that. Best let them be for now, but I’ll tell you what.” She leans in like she’s about to divulge some big secret. “I’ll let Lando know you’re here. Technically, I’m not supposed to, but you both seem like you could use a little break.” 
“Thank you,” You say shakily, inhaling a wavering breath. “Thank you so much.” 
“Of course, dear. You just sit tight over here, alright?” 
That’s exactly what you do. You sit in the metal folding chair and you wait. 
Nearly an hour passes and you’re still no closer to seeing Lando than you already were. The race is nearing its end, and you don’t want to bother the nice lady who’d already bent the rules for you once, but you’re almost at your wits end.
You’ve got your head in your hands when you hear your name called. It’s the lady again, telling you you’re able to go see Lando now. You're not sure what to expect when you make your way into the station, but you've gone through so many possibilities in your head you feel like you've adequately prepared yourself for almost anything.
Lando is sitting on the edge of the gurney when you walk into the room, legs swinging aimlessly as he secures his watch around his wrist. 
He’s okay. He’s sweaty and covered in dust and dirt and looks like hell, but he’s okay. 
You’re not sure why that realization, the one you’ve been waiting for this whole time, is the final crack in the dam. Lando’s eyes snap to you at the same time you rush forward, jumping off the bed with a tiny grimace and crossing the cramped room to bring you against his chest. 
“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” He soothes, holding your sobbing frame tight. You’ve got two fists twisted into the lapels of his racing suit, clutching at it like you're afraid he’ll slip right through your fingers. “I’m alright, love. I’m fine, I promise.” 
“I heard you—I saw—” You can’t even get the words out through the tears streaming freely down your face. 
“I know. Fuck, I know, I’m so sorry.” 
You feel his lips press against your tear soaked cheeks, kissing all over your face until your breathing levels out. Even when you do stop hyperventilating, Lando continues to litter gentle pecks all around, finally stopping with one long, lingering kiss to your forehead. 
You’re finally able to release your death grip on the front of his suit, attempting to smooth out the wrinkles as if it wasn’t already completely a mess. 
On instinct, one of your hands slides over his fireproofs, splaying over his chest right where his heart is. It beats strongly under your palm, if not a little faster when you look him in the eyes. It helps, but it does little to get rid of the knotted ball of fear that’s been sitting right on your chest this entire time. But hey, at least you’re not crying anymore. 
“There’s my girl,” He hums, swiping the pad of his thumb under your eyes gently to rid you of any stray tear tracks. His free hand comes to blanket yours where it remains on his chest, fingers curing over your own. “Hi there. Are you alright?” 
“Fuck me, I’m a mess,” You say, sniffling. “I should be the one checking on you and here I am crying like a baby. How are you? Are you hurt, what did the medics say?” You size him up for any outward injuries, patting around his suit gently. Your hand presses against his torso and he winces a little bit at the sudden pressure, but tuts at the wide eyed look you give him. 
“I’m fine, darling. Few bruised ribs and bumps from impact but otherwise a clean bill of health. Don’t even need to go to the hospital.”
“Thank god,” You sigh, slumping forward against his chest in relief. “That was so fucking scary.” 
“Yeah, no kidding,” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. His nose presses into your hair, inhaling as deep as he can without pain twinging in his sides. “I’m so sorry you had to see that.” 
You shake your head firmly. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” 
“Me too.” 
“How’s the car?” 
Lando grimaces, shaking his head. “Totaled. Not great.” 
“Is Zak mad?” 
“He’s definitely not happy, but I reckon he’s more relieved I’m okay.” 
“That makes two of us.” You hug him again, careful of his bruised ribs. “I would’ve hit him with your front wing if he was more worried about the damn car.” 
Lando lets out a snort of high pitched laughter, though it does sound a little nervous. He knows you're serious. “Babe, you can’t just whack my boss with a broken off piece of the car.” 
“Would you stop me?” 
“I’d feel obligated to or else I might be fired.” 
“But would you?” 
“Let’s just put a pin in that for now.”
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aly4khq · 2 months
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- 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -
- 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼 -
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word count: 2.3K
warnings: a little degrading, one singular slap, pet names, aftercare, slightly rough sex, mc is a troublemaker!
theme: crack filled smut
enjoy!
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"ughhhh!" you laid in sylus' bed, awaiting his return from whatever hell spawn mission he went on. the soft silky sheets smelt of his expensive cologne, mixed with his shampoo that could be smelt better on his actual pillow. as time went by, his presence still gone, rage grew in you yet your mind pushed you to let him off—
CAWWWW!
"shit!" you exhaled as the sound of mephisto echoed around the massive bedroom. your eyebrows furrowed before you met eyes with the deafening crow that sat on top of the door. confusion and a slight annoyance overtook the rage as you lightly scolded the bird. "wha?- get down!", your hand flailed around, trying to convince it to retreat to your side— which just like its owner, didn't listen. instead going on the other way, mephisto's yells and squeals became louder.
after a while, the devilish bird came back, screaming your ear off before running in the same direction. your brain pushed you to let it to, yet your instinct told you to go after it's call. like before, mephisto came back, yet it was silent. but before anyone could speak, it left. "oh my gosh- mephisto wait!"
chasing after it, only a glimpse of black feathers helped you navigate around the mansion. a presence was falling behind, and you knew it. it was strong and make you feel...mind controlled. as you ran through the decorated walls, the lovely red painting and accessories made you fall in love with the scenery. the adoration for the colour red.
"what is that bird on about.." you murmured to yourself, a hand resting on your temple as you thought deeply. mephisto's shout abruptly came to a halt. He brought you to a mirror, one that you always looked in to test out your clothes. "damn, were you trynna tell me that my hair is beautiful?-"
CAWWW!
"excuse you! where's your matters!" scoffing, you grabbed a nearby hairbrush, brushing out the heavy coils of hair as it became fluffier. looking around, you secured the area before speaking. "just like your owner, firstly you get my attention, leave and return then you insult me!..how—"
"rude?" ...oh no. your body tensed up as a red and black mist shot out from the darkness, wrapping around your arm. gentle yet possessive, that mist flipped you around, pinning you against the mirror as a hand wrapped around the other, pinning it onto their waist. a few gasps and yelps coming from your now smaller figure. "am i really rude to you? or are you sensitive, sweetie?"
scoffing, your hands tried to fight against his tight grip, your mind questioning his strength. "no! you're just mean-gasp..! what is that?!" your eyes fell upon the deep gash in sylus' waist, reaching from his right lower hip straight across to his left upper torso. "none of your concern, why are you up so late?" his hand let go, as well as his evol as your hand fell onto your hips, making your way towards him.
"i was waiting for you, then somebody started yelling and running- or should i sat speed flying- to the mirror." a deep chuckle erupted from sylus, his body sat down on the sofa facing opposite to the mirror; a mischievous smirk on his face. his wounds soon enough disappeared as that same mist grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his lap. his chest to your back as his hand laid on your thighs.
"i thought i told a certain someone to go to bed," you hissed as he pinched your side. ", i never knew my woman would be so eager to go against my orders." his eyebrow lifted as his gently hand turned your face towards him, his expression naughty yet sweet. "i didn't go against your orders. i was curious and you said you'd be home in an hour! it's been 2 and a half!"
your rage grew as he pushed your lower back down, his hand lifting up your his shirt before checking your back for the tattoo that laid on your skin. the words, 'SYLUS' in cursive just below your spinal tattoo. "good." a huff escaped your mouth as you hit his leg, "you think it would be gone? it can never go away at and neither can i. don't be idiotic— ow!
his teeth latched onto your neck a he sucked the skin harshly for your comments, making sure to create new hickeys around your body as well as your back. his lips dancing around your skin as you shivered. "okay! okay! i get it!- ah! i get it!" only did he then stop, placing a soft kiss on your neck before his lovely deep voice filled your ears. his finger spinning around as he laid back, "turn."
turning around to face him, your hands pushed down on his shoulders. your eyes full of dominance yet they didn't top his. a deep desire in your chest as an intimate idea came across your mind. his eyes travelling down your body until it stopped on your hand that was also descending down. he hissed as you suddenly pressed your hand onto his crotch, giggling under your breath. "who said you could to do that?"
"me, obviously." you giggled, loving how he reacted to your touch. you tested him endlessly, kissing his neck before rubbing his slowly growing bulge. "provoking me is not a wise choice..." just as his hips buckled from the sensation, you slowly came off of his lap, happily rubbing onto his body. it was fun to tease sylus. until it was not. in a few seconds, you went from upright to in the air...over his broad shoulder. you squirmed around, pounding on his back, "let me downnn! you psycho!- AHHH, sylus no joke i'm gonna fall!-"
you kicked your legs as an attempt to get him to let go but he continued to play with you in his arms, moving you down his back and quickly retreating you. making it seem like a rollercoaster, all under his control. "shh, you're gonna wake up everyone in the N109 Zone." in his tone held a warning, a playful tone yet he had no hesitation to put you in your place. "i don't care- let me go you bastard! his hand gripped your thighs harder, second warning.
closing your eyes, the feeling of your comforter met your back as he pulled away from you, undressing from his dirty work clothes placing them into the laundry basket. "wait here." you watched as his figure disappeared into the shower room, the open space soon enough filling with steam. the urge to go in there was overwhelmingly strong, you wanted him. all of him for tonight before he's off again doing who-knows-what. an over exaggerated sigh came from your position on the bed as he took his sweet time.
once he came out, his body was drenched in water droplets, his v-line just showing before his towel blocked the rest of him. "you seem troubled by something." using another towel, he dried his hair awaiting your answer. "nothing..." his head turned around, eyes glaring into yours, instantly spotting your lie. "fine then, if you'refine then pass me my robe." you jumped up, a chance to touch him at least!
as you gave him his robe; your hand went to his shoulder, basically forcing him to stare into your eyes— which were non-surprisingly filled with neediness. his frown expression changed to a confusion and curious one, his eyebrow rising as you slowly moved your hand down..to his pecs...even further to his abs, nearly accomplishing your mission before his own hand grabbed your wrist. a sigh coming from above you, once you looked up, his eyes told you enough, "go to bed."
like always, you furrowed your eyebrows, a deep pout coming at your lips as you shook your head no. "what do you mean no?" "i don't want to sleep.." you moved your night dress a little, lightly flashing your tits at him. "you dare devil.." finally!, you thought. "but it's too late. and you need to sleep, we have an important auction to be at tomorrow." "awhhh..."
scoffing, he dragged you onto his bed, where you also originally was supposed to be. at first, you thought that he'd want to indulge in your sexy fantasies; dicking you down until you only remember his name. but to your misery, he sat beside you before tucking you in. angrily, you pushed the duvet off of you and him. "no!- sylusss! i wanna fuck ." he chuckled, looking down at you with a smirk, "how explicit, but you know the drill. beg baby." you whined, getting on top of him, grabbing his waist in your small hands before latching your lips onto his. your tongues hugging each other as your hand reaches up for his face, caressing the soft skin as his hand wrapped around your hip.
"if you don't get to work, i'll get xavier to fuck me instead." you rolled your eyes before trying to get off his lap, when a strong grasp held you back. "excuse me? repeat that." and if we recall back to before, it was clear of what will happen next.
'..he had no hesitation to put you in your place.'
feeling reckless, you looked back at him, staring into his blooming eyes. "if you don't get to work, i'll get xavier to fuck me inst-" a large hand went around your mouth, forcing your head back as you felt sylus move from underneath you. "you just love to play with fire, don't you?" he flipped you over, so he was straddling your the back of your thighs. lust surrounded the room and filled the air as you fought against the hand restricting you from speaking before whining. his touch hypnotising as the familiar hands went into his bedside drawer.
in the meantime, he used his evol to rip your night dress off, throwing it somewhere in the room before grabbing your hands. "mhmm!-" "shut up." feeling the coldness of handcuffs, a deep groan came from the depth of your body, your legs kicking as you awaiting for his next move. a sharp, heavy blow landed on your right ass cheek, as your head lifted in a gasp of shock— and excitement — , the sting painful on your skin. you shook your body as an attempt for him to caress the now blooming with red skin. a little chuckle vibrating behind you as his hands rubbed at your ass, shaking the flesh to make it move. "how hypnotic."
"look at this tight hole," he spread your ass open with his hands, before spitting directly on your asshole. in a gentle manner, he let you speak, unravelling his evol. "have you ever been fucked here before?" you were about to ask where, when he circled your hole with his thumb, a delicious shiver filling his ears. "no...why?" his hand found space in your curls before turning your head to the side lovingly, his eyes softened. visible fear of hurting you in any way appeared in his eyes, his eyes scanning your expression. "do you want to?" your face went through all of your emotions like a wheel before it finally chose one. a playful smirk came upon your lips.
"...heck yeah. give me what you got big boy!-" "mood's gone."
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(1,813 word count so far)
"mhm! ah!- sylus...it's nearly 4am! please, t'much-" "you can handle it." your sore and tired body was about to give in if it wasn't for sylus' hands occasionally moving your hair or tapping at your face, a reminder to stay awake. it's been around 4 hours, he gave you a little break before hand, making sure that he didn't overstimulated you too much. but as soon as he filled you with his load, hopefully giving you his child, his hands let you down slowly, resting your now fucked out body onto his black sheets.
"how pretty, you okay?" he spoke out to you as you nodded. but that's not a good enough answer for him. "words" a whine escaped your body right after you yawned, "yes.." he kissed the back of your head from behind you, slowly getting off of the bed to get you a wet towel, unknowing to the obvious stains on the sheets. but by the time he came back, he noticed them, a sigh from his chest as he lifted you up and into the bath he had prepared. "where are you going?", a soft voice came from the bathroom as sylus took off the sheets, putting them in a bucket separate from his other laundry. gently, he placed down another sheet, making sure it was straight before dazzling it with his favourite sheet scents. "changing the sheets, a little hunter couldn't contain all of me."
you scoffed, "no. you have mediocre dick. that's all me." the warmth of the water soothing your muscles with a relaxing smell. the air contained the lovely smell of body wash, takking control of your body as sleep snuck into the atmosphere. "i will fuck you in that bath right now until noon." his figure appeared in the bathroom as he walked over. "alright! you have the best dick game ever. 10/10."
he smirked before getting in with you, scrubbing your back with a cloth; making sure to rub into your skin. "damn..you're good with your hands." you complimented, your head reaching back as he continued his massage. "heard that before." he chuckled after before you followed, "shut up."
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both of you were snuggled into the newly placed sheets, the smell gorgeous as he held you to his chest, arms locked around your waist as one of your legs were wrapped around his hips. a giggle coming from you as you got comfortable. a grunt came from the man above you, "stop playing. it's already the morning. and you're gonna complain for sleep."
you were gonna protest and argue back but the firm squeeze on your side was enough to silence you, "yes sir." lifting your head, he planted a soft kiss onto your lips; full of protection and love. you pulled away, feeling his smile of your forehead, your hands hugging his chest as you smiled. who knew that the lead of onychinus could be so sweet? "go to bed sweetie."
CAWWWWW!
"you too, mephisto."
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i got bored in the end i'm sorryy 😖💔
do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash!
date made: 25/07/24
i do not give permission to repost or copy elsewhere.
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anantaru · 3 months
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Blade comforing s/o from an overwhelming situation? 🥹🥹
・✶ 。 synopsis — blade instantly sees that you were having a rough day, on the brink of tears and shaking, so he did what every boyfriend should do, meaning to be there for you <3
warnings — none, fem! reader, fluff, established relationship, reader is sad, cute protective boyfriend blade <3 calls you: love, my girl, he kisses your forehead
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your entire day consisted of a chaotic swirl enhanced with noises and movements from left to right— people rushing past all directions while bumping into you, their voices merging into a deafening grating that made your head practically spin off your body.
is this really it? you don't think you can escape those masses, in fact, you still needed to fight at the end of your day with something like this even after the suffering you've just had to endure?
you were already having a rough day, yes, from the start, yet a series of small frustrations piled up until you felt like you were carrying a mountain on your shoulders, a heavy weight that was gradually taking all your room to breathe.
and this nasty crowd was certainly the final straw to you.
alas, you wouldn't let yourself get pushed and touched by random strangers and rushed your way through the exit of your work, your heart pounding in your chest, each breath coming faster and faster as you fought to keep the rising tide of panic at bay— it's not like this hasn't happened before but today, even your vision blurred with unshed tears, the world around you becoming an overwhelming blur of emotions that made you want to scream.
"sorry, excuse me, uh," you mumble, not sure if anyone heard you or even cared to let you pass through.
people, who were as eager as you to leave their work were relentless, disrespectfully pushing and shoving, their indifferent faces blurring together in your mind as you've gotten dizzy by the time you were able to move again.
you awkwardly stumble into a corner, desperately trying to catch your breath— although just as you were about to lose your grip completely, a dark, handsome figure emerged from the crowd, yet not walking towards the exit, but you.
blade. your boyfriend blade. the man which could surprisingly find out a solution to yet about every problem.
he moves with a purpose, his eyes scanning the area until they finally lock onto your teary ones. and the moment he saw your tear-streaked face and trembling form just standing there while being surrounded by a bunch of people, his expression softened and tensed in unison.
without a word and wasting more time, he closes the distance between you within a couple steps and immediately pulled you into his arms.
ugh, you can finally breathe again and take in his signature cologne.
his hug was warm, his entire body like the softest pillow, his frame feeling like home and being grounding, his presence too, immediately cutting through the chaos and bringing you a sense of instant safety.
"hey, it's okay, i apologize for being late," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble against your ear, but he notices the constant trembles on your body before securely kissing your forehead, "i've got you."
you clung to him, it's almost embarrassing by how strong your arms were locked around his waist as you were burying your face into his chest, the first out of your many tears finally breaking free— like your body telling you that it was okay to cry now. blade was here.
hot and in masses, the crystalline liquid soaks into his garments as you let out all the frustration— or panic? more so fear, and the exhaustion that had been building up inside of you for the entirety of your gruesome day.
but blade didn't say anything, nor did he really need to add something— instead, he just held you, his hands constantly rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cried your heart out to him.
blade was gentle with you, always, and he never expected you to be on your upmost, most perfect demeanor whenever you two met up. the way he had everything under control without actually lifting a finger came due to his calm presence which was like a balm to your burned nerves, the solid feel of his strong chest pressed against your face grounding you in a way nothing else could.
minutes passed, and slowly, your sobs began to subside, your breathing evening out as the storm of emotions gradually drowns away.
he didn't let go of you right away, he wouldn't want to— and well, blade continued to hold you, yes, he always will, his hands never stopped their gentle motions around the slopes of your body, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your ear.
when you slowly pulled back, your eyes emerged with a puffiness and slight redness taking over your eyes— although such really didn't matter now, because the panic inside had receded, fallen off your shoulders and replaced by a warm love.
the man looked down, admiring your puffy cheeks and slightly embarrassed eyes, his gaze soft and filled with an understanding that brought a fresh wave of love which entered your heart immediately.
"feeling a bit better love? i can pick you up more often if you want to," he asks sternly, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek.
as a response, you nod shyly before sniffling a little, "yeah, it's okay now, thank you, blade, ugh, this is so embarrassing i just didn't know what to do."
"everything just felt like too much all of a sudden, you know?"
his large palms don't leave your face, his touch always gentle when he held you, "it's okay, it's not your fault," he continues softly.
"don't apologize, it's not your fault and remember you're not alone, okay? i'm here for you love, always, i will do whatever it takes to make it better."
you continue to lean into his chest, unable to let go before taking a deep, steadying breath, "i don't know what i would have done if you hadn't been here."
"i'm sorry you had such a rough day," he returns, kissing your forehead as his hands squeeze your cheeks, "but i'm proud of you my girl, yeah?" as his arms wrap around you like two pillows covering your shaken frame, "for getting through it anyways."
and as you held onto him, as you felt and accepted the strength and love enveloping you wholly, you were aware that no matter how overwhelming life got at times, you would never have to face it alone.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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stevie-petey · 4 months
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episode five: the flayed
Slowly Steve aims away, the sound trickling against another wall now, and you share a disgusted look with Robin. With a sigh, she squeezes your hand. “If we make it out of here alive, I promise I’ll throw you the best birthday party ever.” “I don’t know, I think Steve peeing five feet away from me will be pretty hard to beat.”
Summary: you have the worst birthday of your life, you almost strangle steve with your bare hands and then later get snot all over him, erica is your savior, dustin is doing his best, robin starts to suspect things, and the russians have opened a gate to the upside down. its all pretty miserable tbh. but hey ! at least steve won a fight !
Rating: general, some swearing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence, cursing
Words: 7.2k
Before you swing in: hi loves !! chapter five we get some more insight into bug and her very anxious mind. shes just a stressed out gal. bless her. anyways, bug aside im so so so excited to get to chapter 6. i have so many plans for her <3 but !!! for now pls enjoy chapter 5 and more chaotic steve n bug ;)
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Everyone is screaming as you all fall. 
You lost your stomach about a hundred feet ago. 
Steve clings onto you, his chest sturdy behind you as your arms tighten around the kids. Their screams are deafening; you know that you’re screaming too, but the pounding in your head rings in your ears and drowns out their fear.
“We’re going down!” Steve screeches, arms now even tighter around you as he braces his back against the wall.
“No shit Harrington!” Robin is on the opposite wall.
Your nails dig into Steve’s arms, both from panic and from anger. “I fucking told you!”
As you scream at the teen, Erica and Dustin pry apart from you and run over to the vault’s buttons. They begin to argue, the rush of the room’s falling almost makes it hard to hear what they’re saying, but you know they’re freaking out just like everyone else. 
“Push the button!” You hear Erica yell at your brother, and he turns to her with pure melodrama to screech back at her, “What do you think I’m doing?”
Steve pulls you further into his chest as he screams at the kids. “Press something! Just press the button!” 
It’s a mess, the room fills with more screaming as everyone argues and pushes against one another in futile attempts to prevent the vault from plummeting even further. Your nails dig further into Steve’s arms and you close your eyes, too numb with fear to do anything else. 
Then, suddenly, everything stops. 
The room comes to a halt, you’re no longer plummeting to imminent death, and everyone crashes against the wall or ground while a giant box lands on you and Steve. 
He takes the brunt of the damage, the box having fallen from behind him, but the impact is enough to send you crashing to the ground with your elbow catching against the side of the shelf the box had come from. Groaning, your knee shoves into Steve’s body, causing him to wheeze in pain. “My groin, you’re on my groin.”
You ignore him and get up, not offering your hand to him, and make sure Dustin and everyone else is okay. Seeing your stoic manner, Steve groans. “A little help here, anyone?”
Again you ignore him and make your way further into the room and stand there, slowly coming to the realization of what’s happened. Your limbs feel heavy, your head is pounding, and you’re locked in an apparent elevator made by Russians after falling hundreds of feet below Starcourt. 
“Is everyone okay?” Robin hesitantly asks after Dustin has helped Steve up from the ground. 
“Fine,” you rasp out, body still in shock. 
Steve’s body is in its own state of shock as he starts to freak out yet again. “Yeah, I’m great, now that I know that Russians can’t design elevators!”
He shoves past Dustin and starts to jab at the buttons once more, but it’s no use. Robin tries to stop him, but Steve continues to press the buttons repeatedly anyways. He’s frantic, his eyes wide an wild with fear, and you stand in the corner as watch as he starts to realize himself just how fucked the five of you are in the current situation. 
After days of ignoring the possible danger, it’s now glaring in his face, and Steve becomes even more frantic when he notices that you’re still standing behind everyone, silent. 
He’s fucked up. 
“It’s an electronic lock.” Robin starts to explain, and you listen silently. “Same as the loading dock door. If we don’t have a keycard, it won’t operate, meaning–”
“We’re stuck in here.” Dustin announces, already having figured it out himself. 
The pounding in your head intensifies at your brother’s words as fear claws its way into your throat. You’ve spent the last two days pleading with everyone to listen to you, to be cautious and not go in over your heads about the Russians, and yet here you are: locked in a fucking elevator with Steve looking at you with utter guilt. 
You had been right the entire time. 
And yet no one bothered to believe you. 
As Erica announces to the group that if she isn’t back by uncle Jack’s party tomorrow then her mom will ransack the town to find her and Steve yells at her about how he doesn’t care about the party if you all end up dead in the Russian elevator, a defeated and deranged laugh begins to swell from your chest before it forms into complete hysterics. 
The laughs fall from your mouth in a frantic manner, and everyone slowly turns to look at you. Erica doesn’t understand what’s going on, though Steve, Dustin, and Robin share horrified looks; they all know that you’ve officially crossed the line that separates anger from insanity.
“Dead in a Russian elevator, huh?” You manage to bitterly spit out in between bouts of laughter. There are tears in your eyes, though no one is sure if they’re from laughing or anger or despair. “God, Harrington, you really fucked up.”
You’re practically wheezing now from laughing so hard, hunched over as the action takes over your entire body. You had been right, and yet you’re now stuck in an elevator with Lucas’ little sister and your own brother, responsible for their lives even though you’ve never asked to be. Ever. 
Steve tugs at his hair, just as overwhelmed as you are. He’s terrified of what he’s dragged you into, and he’s even more terrified that he was the asshole who refused to listen to you. Defensive, he throws his hands up in the air in defeat. “Why would you even listen to me? I mean, I’ve never been right a day in my life!”
“Oh, so this is all my fault?” Your body manages to move towards him, now standing toe to toe as you sneer in his face.
The laughter is now gone. 
“You’re the one who let me continue this stupid Russian adventure–”
“I begged you to listen to me, but you refused to!”
Steve lets out his own deranged laugh. “How was I supposed to know we’d end up in a goddamn elevator of death?”
“God, how hard is it for you to admit that I was right?” Your fists shake as they clench against your side, your voice is raw from screaming. “Would it fucking kill you to admit that maybe I’m not just some pathetic people pleaser and that I actually know what I’m talking about–”
“Guys!” Dustin shoves the two of you apart, afraid that you’ll tear Steve’s eyes out any second. He points up, gathering everyone’s attention again, and reveals an opening in the elevator’s ceiling. “What if we climbed out?”
Hope sparks in your chest when you see the opening and you’re the first to shove past Steve and the others and start climbing up the boxes to get to it. Dustin follows, then Steve, and when the three of you climb up and out of the elevator, the small spark of hope in your chest quickly vanishes when you look up and see the hundreds of feet the elevator has fallen. 
“What were you saying about climbing?” Steve’s voice echoes off of the walls surrounding the elevator. They’re smooth, pure metal and infrastructure, and you swallow down tears. 
There’s no way any of you can possibly climb up them. You’re stuck. 
Admittedly, Dustin handles this realization a lot better than you do. He immediately starts to come up with another plan, he has his radio, he can call for help, and as he comes up with new ways to reignite the hope with Steve, you wordlessly descend back down into the elevator. You don’t spare the two boys another glance as you leave, too emotionally exhausted and still shaking from the waves of guilt and anxiety that plague you. 
After you’ve silently left, Dustin turns to Steve. He feels just as awful as the teen, they both failed to listen to you, and now they’re left with your stoic anger that leaves them both feeling raw. “We fucked up, man.”
“She needs us right now,” Steve claps his hand against the boy’s back, his words strong but voice frail. “Let’s go.”
They climb back down into the elevator as well and find you, Robin, and Erica all sitting against the walls, silent. You must’ve already told the girls what the three of you found above. There’s nothing you guys can do now besides wait for whatever comes next, even Dustin can recognize that.
Your knees are drawn into your chest, your chin rests against them as you sit alone at one wall, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so small before. Sighing, he looks at Dustin, who gives him a nod to wish him luck, before he makes his way over to you and sits down. You don’t react to Steve’s presence besides allowing your head to fall against his shoulder, and it’s enough to calm the relentless remorse he feels within him. 
No one speaks for a while.
The hours pass, the room silent as you all realize what the fuck you’ve gotten yourselves into. 
– 
You’re not sure how much time passes by, the walls within the elevator block out all possible sunlight, but eventually you figure it’s well into the night. After the initial shock had worn off, Dustin, Robin, and Erica had sat closer together and tried distracting themselves with sleep while you sat against the wall with Steve; your head never leaves his shoulder, and neither of you talk.
However, by what you figure is hour five, you desperately need air. You can’t sleep, the walls have started to close in around you once more, so you stand up, side step your sleeping brother, and climb up to the top of the elevator once more. 
Steve follows you; he always follows. 
He finds you sitting at the edge of the elevator, feet dangling over the ledge with your shoulders drawn in. Slowly he approaches you and sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder, thigh pressed against thigh. You don’t say anything, and Steve again feels horrible for not listening to you earlier; he knows that for once it has to be him that is strong enough for the two of you.
“Talk to me,” Steve breathes out, pleading. It’s just you and him now, one one else, away from prying eyes. You’re safe with him, you will always be safe with him, but he needs to hear your voice and bring color back to your cheeks. “Please.”
Hearing the desperation in his voice, knowing that Steve has never once meant you any harm, that he’s just as scared and alone as you are, you finally break.
You throw yourself into Steve’s arms and sob. The tears come all at once, there is no build up. The moment you are in his embrace, the moment your ear presses against his chest and you hear his heartbeat, the tears come.
“I hate that I always end up here,” you cry into his chest, all that you’ve swallowed down now comes spiraling out of you. “I’m just–I’m so fucking frustrated. I–I keep doing this to Dustin, he’s always in danger because of me.”
Your voice hitches as your breath stutters. There’s more that you want to say, the guilt that has haunted you since Will biked home that fateful night swells within you, but your tears prevent you from voicing any of it. “I–I’m supposed to keep everyone safe but–God, it’s hard when no one listens to me. No one ever listens to me.”
You were supposed to listen to me.
Though you don’t say it, Steve hears it anyway. 
He’s silent through it all, frightened and aching, knowing you keep so much within you. Steve has never seen you cry before, he’s never seen you break like this, and he despises himself for being the reason why. 
Another miserable sob escapes you and all Steve can do is pull you in closer, furious at the world for the fact that he cannot fit you into his chest where he can keep you safe behind his ribcage, next to his heart.
You cling onto Steve and allow the last few years you’ve carried on your shoulders to finally crush you. “I just feel so useless–how can I…” you sniffle, try to steady your breathing as the words on your tongue terrify you. “How–how can I love if I can’t–I have to protect everyone.”
Your voice breaks once more and Steve allows you to take all the time you need. He continues to hold you through it, he presses soft kisses to your face, lips wet from your tears, he plays with your hair, he does whatever he can to engrave his apology into your body.
“I’m so stupid,” you pull away now, the tears slowing and embarrassment creeping through. You’re overwhelmed with your debilitating need to protect the ones you love, as if you cannot love someone if you cannot save them, and you know it’s stupid and immature to believe such things. As the exhaustion sinks into your body, you realize with a start what day has creeped upon you while in the elevator.
It’s July third. 
With Steve looking down at you with a sinful guilt in his eyes, you wipe your own eyes and laugh pathetically at your realization. “This entire situation is stupid. It’s my seventeenth birthday and I’m stuck in a fucking death elevator.”
Steve’s arms tighten around you and he draws in a quick breath at your words. It’s your birthday. He had thought he couldn’t feel worse about what he dragged you into, but he had been wrong. You should be in your room right now, tucked away from danger, celebrating the first moments of your birthday with Steve crawling through your window with the gift he worked so hard to convince the party to help with. 
Instead, you’re crying in Steve’s arms with imminent death looming over you because of him, and he thinks he’s never felt tears as heavy as yours. 
“I’m sorry,” he gently lifts your chin with the same finger that has caressed your face a million times. The soft gesture makes you weak, and when your eyes meet Steve’s, he brings his lips down upon your forehead. He lingers, his lips are rough but familiar, and there’s more he wants to say. The words build within him, all the apologies, but he knows they’d fall on deaf ears. You’re exhausted, you’ve revealed more to him tonight than you ever have before, and he knows the vulnerability stabs at you viciously,
Instead, Steve kisses your cheek next, then your other cheek, then the tip of your nose, your chin, your eyebrows, anywhere his lips can reach, and the action causes a small giggle to blossom within you. Hearing the sound he loves so much, Steve smiles. “Happy birthday, angel.”
Your hand comes up to his face, and though a part of you warms at what Steve has said, another part of you aches. Jonathan has always been the first person to wish you a happy birthday, a tradition from when you were kids and snuck into each other’s windows the second the clock struck midnight. Now Jonathan is gone and Nancy is angry and you’re tired of it all. With a bittersweet smile, you cup Steve’s cheek in the palm of your hand. “Thank you, honey.”
The world stills between the two of you for a brief moment, his face in your hand and your heart in his arms. It’s reminiscent of earlier in the breakroom, the uncertainty that drapes over you and Steve while the certainty secures you both to each other. 
It isn’t perfect, Steve’s uncertainty has hurt you, but he holds you with a certainty that makes you believe that somehow the two of you will make it out of this alive, together. He nuzzles his face into your palm as if he physically needs to be closer to you, and it settles something that stirs in your chest.
Exhaling, you rest your head in the crook of Steve’s neck and curl into him. He pulls you in closer, as he’s always done, and eventually you fall asleep, exhausted from everything.
Steve isn’t sure how long you sleep in his arms, his muscles ache from holding you, but he accepts the burn as punishment for the hurt he’s caused you. He sits there, staring at the metal walls, and falls asleep himself.
– 
You wake up to Dustin trying to contact someone on his radio. His annoyingly loud voice causes you to groan in annoyance, you’re warm, comfortable, and had been dreaming about something that left your chest feeling light. 
“Code red, I repeat, code red. Does anyone copy?”
Rolling over, a pair of arms hold you near a sturdy body, and you remember now that you fell asleep in Steve’s arms. Burying your face deeper into his chest, you groan again. “Make him shut up.”
“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” Dustin kicks your sneaker before going back to his radio. “This is a code red, I repeat, a code red. Does anyone copy?”
Steve sighs, sounding just as tired as you feel. “The kid has been at this for the last hour or so. Woke me up, too.”
You hear Dustin’s footsteps as he paces. “We are innocent children and we are trapped under Starcourt Mall. The Red Army has infiltrated Hawkins.”
“‘The Red Army’ is dramatic.” You mumble, still mourning that you’ve been woken up.
Dustin ignores you. “If we are found, they will torture and kill us.”
“How peachy.”
Steve snaps his fingers at your brother, motioning for him to shut up. “Hey, you gotta take it easy on that thing. Gonna drain the battery.”
“That’s what we’re worried about right now?”
“Go back to sleep, Y/N.” Dustin kicks your sneaker again with a scoff. “The mall just opened, so someone could be in range.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “What, you think Petey the Mall Cop is gonna rappel down here and save the day?”
You give a thumbs up to what the teen has just said. “‘Rappel’, good word choice there.”
“Alright, why are you two such cranky pants after getting to spend the night together?” Dustin asks, off put by your snarkiness. He knows you’ve never really been a morning person, but your face is still buried in Steve’s chest and you haven’t looked at Dustin since waking up. 
“Shut up, Dustin.” You and Steve say at the same time, both too drained to entertain his usual teasing.
Your brother sighs and changes the subject. “I heard you guys talking all night, did you at least figure out a way out of here?” 
You shift in Steve’s arms, now uncomfortable. Neither of you had talked about what to do next, for once you had been selfish and put yourself first, allowing yourself to cry. Sensing the brewing guilt, Steve covers for you both. “No, we’re still exactly nowhere, which is, ya know, probably just a little bit of the reason why we’re feeling just a tad cranky.”
“What he said,” you hide a smile in Steve’s chest, but he feels it anyways.
Then, because he’s Steve and is physically incapable of allowing you a moment of peace, he taps your shoulder. “Hey, uh. Not to ruin this, but can you get up so I can pee?” 
“Here?” You and Dustin exclaim in unison, both of you equally disgusted. 
“Well where else am I supposed to go?”
“Ugh,” you wrinkle your nose and get up, hating that Steve has a point. However, rather than stay and watch the guy pee, you decide to leave and check up on Erica and Robin. You’ve been up here long enough, anyways. “Keep your body fluids away from me.”
As you climb down, you hear Steve screaming at Dustin to turn away as your brother wishes you a happy birthday. 
They’re such idiots sometimes. 
“Did I just hear Dustin screech about someone’s birthday?” Robin asks you as you jump down the last box and join her side. She’s in front of the elevator’s panel, inspecting the buttons.
You wince, not liking the reminder of what today is. “It’s… my birthday.”
Robin gasps and grabs at your hand. “Is it actually? Oh my God–” She’s cut off by the sound of liquid splattering against a wall, and with horror the two of you realize that it’s Steve’s piss. Making a face, the girl calls out, “Can you redirect your stream, please?”
Slowly Steve aims away, the sound trickling against another wall now, and you share a disgusted look with Robin. With a sigh, she squeezes your hand. “If we make it out of here alive, I promise I’ll throw you the best birthday party ever.”
“I don’t know, I think Steve peeing five feet away from me will be pretty hard to beat.”
Robin laughs and you feel okay for a moment, enjoying the small respite, before the sound of glass banging against metal catches your attention. Turning around, you find Erica slamming one of the vials of liquid against the bars, and immediately you and Robin run to stop her. 
“Hey, be careful!” Robin snatches the cylinder from the girl and tosses it to you for safekeeping. “We don’t even know what that is.”
“Exactly, it could be useful.” Erica argues. 
You hold the vial up high so that she can’t reach; you know the Sinclairs, they’re speedy little devils. “Please elaborate.”
“We can survive down here a long time without food,” Erica jumps and tries to grab what you’ve taken, but you only hold the liquid further out of her reach. “But if the human body doesn’t get water, it will die.”
You’re momentarily impressed by the girl’s survival knowledge, but Robin is undeterred. “I hate to break it to you, but this is not water.”
“No, but it’s a liquid, and if it comes down to me drinking that shit or dying of thirst, I drink.”
“You are fascinating,” you breathe out, both terrified and in awe. As you stare at Erica in wonder, Robin seems to hear something and leaves your side to press her ear against the opposite wall. Frowning, you join her. “What is it?”
“Listen.”
You do as you’re told and press your own ear against the wall, and it only takes you a second to hear it too. Mechanical whirling, the same sound that you heard last night before all the walls in the elevator came crashing down and trapped you. “Shit.”
Robin nods grimly. “You get Erica while I warn the boys.”
Within a minute you’ve helped Erica climb the top of the elevator as you all hide up there. No sooner than when you’ve closed the roof’s opening, one side of the metal wall begins to open and the footsteps of men can be heard. 
Through the grates, you and Steve hunch over as you watch two men walk into the elevator. They’re big, dressed in a bizarre uniform, and one of them is smoking. They talk about something, their words are terse, and for a moment you worry they’ve figured out that you’re hidden above, but eventually they grab a few boxes and make their way outside. 
As the men move back and forth below you, grabbing more and more boxes, you look up at Steve and find him staring at the green liquid you still have in your hands. During the frantic rush to get Erica to safety, you had forgotten to set the chemicals down. His eyes narrow slightly, as if asking you if you’re thinking what he is, and distantly you remember how much force the cylinder seemed to be able to withstand when Erica was slamming it.
If you truly are on the same page as Steve, then it’s a fucking risky plan, but it’s the only chance you have. 
You hand the vial to him and nod, silently urging him to be safe. Then, you turn to the others and risk whispering what you and Steve have thought of. He keeps watch, hand on the small of your back to indicate to you when to stop talking, and soon the plan is formed. 
The moment the Russian men have left the elevator, Steve quickly jumps down from the roof and slides the chemicals underneath the rapidly closing door. You watch nervously, and when the cylinder miraculously holds up against the metal door, you exhale in relief. Steve waves for you and everyone else to jump down as well. “Let’s go!”
You jump down first and slide Erica’s backpack over to Steve before helping her down. Once she successfully slides under the door, you help Dustin down next. The glass starts to splinter under the pressure, the sound of it creaking fills you with dread, but you push the fear down and help Robin next. “Go, go, go!”
When it’s your turn, you hold your breath and will yourself to slide underneath the door to join the others. As you go under, you see the glass start to splinter even more, and you quickly roll onto your stomach and frantically wave at Steve. “Steve, you need to hurry!”
He scrambles underneath the door and only just manages to narrowly escape as the door comes slamming down. Steve instinctively covers you with his body as the glass from the vial shatters, and when you look up and see the green liquid now sizzling as it burns through the concrete floor, you shudder. “You guys see that too, right?”
“Jesus Christ.” Steve stands up and offers you his hand as he inspects the liquid’s damage.
Erica, Robin, and Dustin step forward now too, and the five of you peer over the liquid as it oozes and bubbles, melting everything it touches. You shudder again, you can’t believe that there were boxes full of it surrounding you earlier. 
“You still wanna drink that?” Robin turns Erica, smirking. 
“You guys think it’d be like drinking lava?” You ask the group, and everyone shakes their heads at you. Adrenaline is still coursing through you, your head feels woozy from lack of sleep and water, and you think you’re slowly losing your mind. 
Meanwhile Dustin turns away from you, and when he sees what surrounds you all, his heart drops. “Holy mother of God.”
Turning around, your heart drops as well. There’s a giant hallway that faces you, blue lights illuminating it, and it stretches deep into the abyss. You realize, now, that the elevator had been only the beginning. As you stare down the endless hallway, its length reminiscent of the tunnels you almost died in last year, it hits you that you’ve truly stumbled upon something horrible. 
The Russians have been here a long, long time if they were able to build such a vast and complex underground facility. 
And now you’re trapped within it, with nothing but your knives to keep you and everyone else safe. 
“Well, hope you guys are in good shape.” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. He pats Dustin’s shoulder and starts to lead the way. “Looking at you, roast beef.”
Unamused with the insult directed at your brother and still angry at the teen for dragging you into this mess in the first place, you trip Steve. He stumbles and only just barely manages to catch himself, which everyone snickers at and Dustin high fives you.
With a sigh, Steve grabs your hand and beckons for everyone to follow. “Let’s go, guys.”
– 
It’s a goddamn long walk. 
You’re miserable. 
It’s hot, you’re covered in sweat and grime, you're starving, and this is officially the worst birthday ever. Sure, you’ve never really liked your birthday, but holy fuck you didn’t think it’d be this bad. 
You’re snappier than usual with everyone, which a part of you feels guilty for. Robin tried making conversation in the beginning, but you only responded with curt, one word answers. It truly isn’t her fault, none of this is anyone’s fault, but the anger that simmers within you threatens to boil over and you’re too tired to control it. 
Yet Steve keeps your hand within his and walks by your side, unaffected by your unusual anger. He lets you remain quiet, he doesn’t take offense to your terse responses, and he smiles apologetically at Robin for you because he knows you’d do the same if you were able to; he’s there for you. 
Steve knows how much anger resides within you, and he helps you brave it. 
You love him endlessly for it. 
“You think they built this whole mall so they could transport that green poison?” Steve asks the group as they speculate about why the Russians even built this underground system in the first place. 
“I very seriously doubt it’s something as boring as poison.” Dustin responds, and you scoff at him. 
“Yeah, because poison is boring.”
He looks at you warily and decides not to risk further exasperation. “What I mean is, it’s gotta be much more valuable, like promethium or something.”
“What the hell is promethium?” Steve looks to you, but you only shake your head. Dustin’s the science whiz, not you.
Instead Robin answers him, though her response about some guy named Victor Stone and a cyborg only confuses both you and Steve more. 
“You’re all so nerdy, it makes me physically ill.” Erica cringes with disgust, and her theatrics are hard to resist smiling at. 
“No, no.” Steve interjects. “No, don’t lump me in with them. I’m not a nerd, alright?” 
“Why so sensitive, Harrington?” Robin asks him, smiling at his offense. “Afraid of losing cool points to a ten year old child?”
“He takes his cool points very seriously, Robin.” You now speak up, a slight smile on your face. You’ll never pass up an opportunity to tease Steve. Nudging him with your shoulder, you laugh softly and glance up at him. “Admit it, you’re a nerd.”
If it were anyone else saying this, Steve would adamantly refuse such a notion, but it’s you and you’re finally smiling at him again, so instead he huffs with amusement. “Yeah, alright. Maybe I am, but I still don’t know jack shit about Prometheus.” 
“Promethium,” Dustin corrects. “Prometheus is a Greek mythological figure, but whatever. All I’m saying is, it’s probably being used to make something.” 
“Or power something?” In their eerie fashion, Robin and your brother now seem to once again be on the same page. 
“Like a nuclear weapon?”
“Totally.”
You rub the temples of your head and sigh, your previously brightened mood quickly dims again. “Cool. Nuclear weapons are cool.” 
Robin mumbles a quick sorry to you, she wishes she could change the topic, but there’s a question that’s been on her mind ever since you discovered the Russians. “But if they’re building something, why here? I mean, Hawkins. Seriously, of all places.”
As Robin continues to drone on about how bizarre of a choice Hawkins is, you, Steve, and Dustin all slow down and let her and Erica walk ahead. They don’t notice your guys’ sudden change of pace, and the three of you slowly come together; you know you’re all thinking the same thing. 
The question has been on your mind for a while, too. 
“You think the Russians know?” Dustin finally asks in a lowered voice.
Steve leans forward, his own voice lowered as well. “About–”
“They could.”
“So it’s all connected?”
While the boys whisper to one another, you feel a shiver run through you. Again you remember the sweat that had been on Billy’s brow and how pale he had been. You remember Will’s fearfulness at Weathertop hill, how he had clutched the back of his neck. You remember Mrs. Waters, Jonathan and Nancy, Mrs. Driscoll.
Something isn’t right, and now there’s Russians in Hawkins with a giant maze of high architectural design. 
“It has to be.” You say now. “There’s too much to ignore. “
Dustin frowns at you. “What do you mean? Is there something else?”
“The Upside Down, I think there’s something wrong–”
You’re interrupted by Robin. “I’m sorry, is there something you’d like to share with the class?”
The three of you turn to her, wide eyed and caught, and before you can come up with some excuse to get her off your backs’, Dustin’s radio comes to life as a Russian man’s voice speaks through it. 
“Walkie,” you, Steve, and Dustin say at the same time, running towards where it resides in Erica’s backpack. 
The Russian continues to drone through the walkie’s speakers as Dustin takes it out and Robin extends its antenna. She brings it close to her ear and listens intently, and after a few seconds she starts to speak the language as well, echoing what the man is saying. “It’s the code,” she finally says. 
“Wherever that broadcast is coming from–”
“It’s close.” Robin finishes your brother’s sentence. “And if there’s one thing we know about that signal…”
Dustin’s eyes light up. “It can reach the surface.” 
“We’ll be able to call for help,” you breathe out, hopeful yet reluctant. It’s your only way out, but you also have no idea what lies within these walls. 
“Let’s go!” Robin quickly stands up, plan already formed in her head, and all you can do is follow. 
It doesn’t take long to figure out where the broadcast is coming from. Within a few minutes of walking, the walls begin to narrow and you hear more and more voices up ahead. You can sense that you’re drawing closer to the main area of the underground complex, and the closer you get, the tighter you clutch at your knives. 
You and Steve work together on guiding everyone. He scouts for places to hide while you keep an eye out for any danger. Slowly, the six of you dodge and weave in and out from corners, avoiding Russians. In an odd sense, the routine is familiar and comforting; you and Steve have done this a million times before, the two of you know how to keep the other safe.
As Steve peers over a corner with the rest of you hiding behind him, Robin whispers into your ear. “How are the two of you so good at navigating scary dangerous situations?”
Her question is innocent enough, but you can sense that she’s piecing things together bit by bit. You try to keep your face neutral, not give anything away, and shrug at her. “We make a good team, I guess.” 
Robin gags at this, which you’re thankful for. At least your response got her mind off of things. 
Steve motions for everyone to follow after him once the coast is clear after a few guards have walked past. “Clear, come on, let’s go.”
He moves swiftly as you stay behind and make sure the rest of the group follows. Robin looks nervously at you, feeling vulnerable out in the open. “Okay, that was close.”
“Too close.” Dustin breathes out as he follows her, which you roll your eyes at. You and Steve are doing the best that you can, given the circumstances. If your brother wanted to worry about safety, he should’ve considered it twenty hours ago. 
“Relax,” Steve reassures everyone. “Nobody saw…” His voice trails off as he rounds the corner.
Your jaw drops. It’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined.
In front of you is what you can only imagine is the main hub of the complex. There’s Russians everywhere, some dressed in guard uniforms carrying shotguns, some dressed in lab coats, and others look like glorified red astronauts. 
You’re hopelessly outnumbered, there’s too many of them.
Steve curses and ducks down, pulling everyone with him as he hides behind a cart against the wall. You try to steady your breathing, you grip the back of Dustin’s shirt tightly in your hand. He looks at you in shock. “Red Dawn.”
“Not now,” you close your eyes and breathe in through your nose and exhale out your mouth. “I’m trying really hard not to lose yesterday’s lunch.”
“I saw it. First floor, northwest.” Erica urgently whispers to Steve.
“Saw what?”
“The comms room.”
You whip your head around to face the girl, making your nausea even worse, and Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing. “You saw the comms room?”
“Correct!” Erica leans closer now, the insistence in her voice unwavering. 
Dustin frowns. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” this is the most sincere you’ve ever seen Erica. “The door was open for a second, and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.” 
“That could be a hundred different things.” Dustin says, skeptical.
However, you believe Erica. She’s incredibly pragmatic, she wouldn’t blindly say something that she didn’t believe in. She’s a Sinclair, their morals define them, and Erica’s rant about capitalism and a free market system yesterday only solidifies your theory that she hides away most of her intelligence. “If Erica thinks she saw the comms room, then I believe her.”
She smiles at you gratefully, and Robin nods her head at the two of you. “If Y/N is on board, then I’ll take those odds.” 
Steve stares at you, studies your face and your demeanor, and when he sees the set clench of your jaw and the determination in your eyes, he knows he trusts whatever call you make. He pokes his head out from behind the cart, the five of you mimic him, and even though you’re firm in your stance to follow Erica’s gut, it still strikes terror within you when you see once again how many guards there are.
Sighing tiredly, Steve faces the group. “We’re gonna move fast, we’re gonna stay low. Okay?”
You nod at him. “Good luck.”
Steve smiles at you, nerves now calmed, and starts to guide everyone. He masterfully weaves in and out corners, ducks behind carts when someone walks past, and for a brief moment you’re in awe of him. He’s grown so much since that night at Jonathan’s, when he had run away the second things got too intense, and now he’s the one leading. 
When he opens the door to the comms room, you’re almost overwhelmed with how proud you are of Steve. Then, naturally, as soon as everyone is inside, you turn around and come face to face with a very confused Russian guard. 
And Steve has locked you in a room with him.
Everyone freezes, unsure what to do.
“Nice, Steve.” You sneer at him. 
He looks at you incredulously. “Is now really the time?”
As you mock Steve, the Russian guard starts to reach for the gun at his side. Seeing this, you whip your knives out and display them to the man, the blades glint in the room’s red light. He narrows his eyes at you and tightens his grip on his own weapon, and for a moment you fear that you really will have to use your switchblade. 
However, Robin is quick on her feet and puts her hand up to lower your knives. She starts speaking Russian in hopes of calming the guard down, and it seems to work at first, but when the guard starts speaking back to her, Robin’s plan quickly crumbles; it’s painfully obvious that she doesn’t speak the language. 
The guard reaches for his gun once more, and before you can use your knives, Steve lets out a loud yell and throws himself at the guy, taking him by surprise. 
“Steve!” You find yourself screaming, it’s instinctual. 
For a moment all you can do is stand there and watch, stunned. The two men begin to fight, fists hitting skin as they shove one another, and you have just enough awareness to keep your knives raised in case you need to step in and help. You know Steve’s track record, yet as the fight progresses, you become less and less fearful for him. He’s holding his own surprisingly well.
Steve jabs his elbow into the guard’s stomach before grabbing a nearby intercom phone and slams it into the guy’s head. He falls, hard, onto the electric panel and hits the side of his head against it even harder. 
The moment he lands on the ground, the Russian guard is out cold. 
Panting, Steve stands over him and fixes his hair. You and Dustin exchange surprised looks, both of you ecstatic; Steve won.
“Dude!” Dustin exclaims with glee in his voice. “You won a fight!”
“It’s a miracle,” you breathe out in awe, now at Steve’s side as you check for any injuries. He preens at your attention, his eyes glow, and you can’t help but kiss his check. “Good job, honey.”
“Okay, okay, break it up.” Dustin shoves you away from Steve and then crouches next to the guard’s body, unhooking the keys from his belt loop. You roll your eyes at him while Erica questions what he’s doing. Over his shoulder, he responds, “Getting us our ticket out of here.”
Erica scoffs. “You want to walk all the way back?” 
“Well, we can hang out for a little bit, relax, have a picnic maybe.”
“Have a picnic? We came here for the radio.”
The kids start to argue, but you don’t intervene. Instead, you fix Steve’s hair with your fingers and gently grab his face, moving it around to make sure he isn’t hurt. His skin is still smooth, untouched. “No bruises this time.”
He winks. “Gotta keep this face pretty for you, don’t I?”
“Yeah you do,” you pinch his cheek, laughing softly. “It’s your only redeeming quality.”
“Hey now–”
Robin suddenly appears, looking panicked. You quickly let go of Steve’s face and walk towards her, now noticing the staircase that she’s just come from. There’s blue light at the top, there’s an energy to it that makes you uneasy, yet it’s familiar. 
“What is it?” You ask her, fearing that you already know. 
“There’s something up there.”
You follow her up the stairs, and your heart drops at what you see. Steve sucks in a breath, his hand on your back. 
There’s a room at the top of the stairs, similar to the one below, and there are several men sitting at control panels. Before them is a giant machine, its circular panel spins as it shoots a beam of light into what you can only describe as an open wound within the wall. It’s narrow, long in length, as orange light spills from it. 
When Steve’s eyes meet yours, you both know. 
It’s the gate. 
The Russians have found the gate into the Upside Down.
Anger courses through you, and this anger is a familiar one. It’s the same anger you felt the day Will went missing, when El sacrificed her life to save everyone, when the men at Hawkins Lab continuously got away with ruining the lives of everyone you love. 
After everything you, the kids, and everyone else went through to close the gate, it enrages you to see these fucking idiots trying to reopen it. You had almost died last year trying to end this bullshit, but now you see it had been for nothing.
The side of your ribcage burns, the scar reignited by your fury, and Steve feels your body tense against his. His eyes meet yours again, and without saying anything, you know he understands. 
Nodding, the two of you are in agreement.
You have to stop this.
-
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months
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Chapter 31 - Rookie of the Year
Last regular chapter! We have the Drive to Survive episode and then the prologue left! I'm not going to say many words because my farewell to this story will come after DTS drops which will be tomorrow night around 8:30 pm CT
The end of To Do is To Dare is scheduled for this Saturday, 11:30 am CT.
I love you all!
“Kid, are those shorts?” 
You looked up the phone in your hand up to Max, who was sitting in front of you in the limo. Your eyes flitted back down to your lap, where your dress had ridden up to reveal the basketball shorts that were supposed to be hidden. 
You shot him a sheepish grin. 
“Quite possibly.” 
Max rolled his eyes. “And why are you wearing shorts underneath a 7 thousand dollar dress?” 
“If Zendaya can do it, so can I. And besides, I’m taking them off when we get close. I just didn’t want to cross my legs in the car.” 
A snort came from Arthur, who sat to your right. To his opposite sat Charles. The four of you were all decked out in clothing that could definitely pay for a high end sports car. The Armani suits were tailored to the two Monegasques. Max’s suit and your dress were from the newest Dior line, thanks to your own ambassadorship with the luxury brand. The heels on your feet costs thousands as well. You didn’t even want to think about how much the jewelry that adorned your wrists, neck, and ears cost. 
Arthur leaned over, hand on your thigh. “Well you might want to take them off because we’re about 5 minutes away.” 
A pout grew on your lips, but you appropriately slid the basketball shorts off your smooth legs. You definitely didn’t miss the ogling eyes of your boyfriend. You gave him an innocent smile, which made him glare at you. 
“You think I’ll get rookie of the year?” 
The question made the men groan. 
You gawked at them. “What? I don’t know if they’ll do it since I was the only rookie. That’s like giving a first place trophy to the only alone person in a competition. Useless.” 
Charles gave you a smile. “What previous awards have you won or records you have broken?” 
Your eyes flickered to the ceiling in thought. 
“Ok, so I was the youngest European Karting Division Champion in 2010, the youngest Italian Karting Division Champion in 2012, youngest F4 race winner and champion in 2018, youngest F3 race winner and champion in 2019, youngest F2 race winner in 2020. That year I was also Rookie of the Year and got the Jules Bianchi award. And then I was the youngest F2 champion in 2023. This year I was the youngest pole sitter in F1, I had the most points for a rookie year with 333 points, and then the most podiums for a rookie with 15 podium finishes. I equaled Lewis’s record of four wins in a rookie season. And I think that’s it…Why are you three staring at me like that?” 
A blush formed on your face as the three men just stared. Max shook his head in disbelief. 
“You’re more decorated than I am.” 
A roll of your eyes had him arguing. With the jerk of the car, the two of you silenced. Through the heavily tinted windows, you could see the flashes of cameras. You inhaled sharply which caught Arthur’s attention. 
“I’ll hold your hand the entire time ok?” 
A nod of your head let him know that you’d be fine with that. The moment the door opened, the noise was deafening. People were screaming your name, along with Max, Charles, and Arthur. You flashed the best smile you could as you walked to the building. But a certain car caught your eyes. The familiar navy was beaconing you to go over. You let your hand slip from Arthur as you got closer to your season car. 
“Hey buddy,” you whispered as you ran your hand along the carbon fiber body. You could still hear the flashes of the cameras but it didn’t matter to you anymore. You were back with your car that carried you so well during the races.
You leaned closer as if to tell a secret. “I’m still going to buy you so you can come rest with my other cars back home. I’m going to miss you Forum.” 
The name was a simple call back to the Formula cars. But, in your mind, you couldn’t just call him Formula, because that would be weird. Max only smiled when you told him the name earlier in the season. 
Apparently, the Red Bull cars were men. 
You smiled over your shoulder at Arthur who had waited for you. Internally, you were trying to waste time so you didn’t have to sit through long boring speeches. But, the look of mild panic of being late in Arthur’s eyes got you to start moving. 
Once inside, you welcomed the air conditioning. Arthur’s fingers found the open slot of your dress on your side. The comfort of the skin to skin contact was very appreciated. 
Thankfully, they had decided to put the top three at the same table. Since you and Max were on the same team, and Charles got along with the two of you quite well, they didn’t see a problem with you all sitting together. It definitely made the night less boring. 
When Max got up to say his acceptance speech, some tears rolled down your face. It was especially when he got to talking about you. 
The Dutchman smiled down at the table, or well, at you. 
“I don’t normally do this, but I also have to thank my teammate, Y/n. 
“When I heard that she was going to replace Sergio at the beginning of 2024, I was a bit hesitant. I am used to being in a comfortable spot in life, but the world decided to throw a 20-year-old at me and said ‘here you go, have fun’.” 
The crowd chuckled at his words, but you tried to laugh through the tears. Max continued.
“The first few races were great. I had to go find her after she borrowed a car, we played football on the Miami beach, and I got to really connect with drivers that I didn’t know I could be close to.” 
You saw a bigger smile grow on Charles’s face. You personally knew that the Ferrari driver was more than thankful for Max’s close friendship. It made the season go so much better than in 2022. 
“It was in Suzuka that I noticed that my teammate had become part of my family when I was so…scared to lose her. I know I wasn’t the only one that said I wouldn’t have continued to race if she had…” 
Max didn’t finish the sentence as he wiped his eyes. Arthur’s hand gripped yours a bit tightly at the reference to your DNF at Suzuka. 
The Champion inhaled before he spoke again. 
“But what matters is that she was able to finish the season with me in third place. We were able to take home the constructor’s championship with her fastest lap. 
“Y/n has meant so much more to me than a regular teammate. And I am thankful that we get to have more years of competitiveness together. I am 100 percent confident when I say that she will be a World Champion.
“Thank you.” 
Max walked off stage as the crowds roared at the completion of his speech. You were up next, so you stood from the table and walked over to meet him. He brought you into a big hug and didn’t let go for a bit. You felt him kiss the top of your head before he let you go. 
You shakily inhaled as you stood on the edge of the stage. 
“And now, please welcome the Rookie of the Year and third place winner of the Driver’s Championship, Y/n L/n!” 
Once you heard the clapping, you made your way to the middle of the stage. The man handed you two trophies that were a lot heavier than you thought. You awkwardly grinned as you stood still for pictures. 
One the man gave you the signal to start, you bent down slightly to put the trophies down. When you rose back up, you took a deep breath. You gave the crowd a smile before you started to speak. 
“First off, I’d like to thank everyone here today. It would be weird to be speaking to an empty room, so the audience is appreciated.” 
Laughter came from the crowd, which let you know that you were doing great. 
“Next, I’d like to thank my personal team. I wouldn’t be here without my physio, even if I continued to beg her to eat ice cream all the time. To my trainer, I don’t think I’d be able to even turn my steering wheel without him. And then to Vito, my manager. When I say that he is truly the only person who has stayed by myself through the years, it’s him. He didn’t have to stay, but he did. I’d be lost without him and probably driving an uber around cities to make money.” 
Your voice gave a little crack at the end, but a chuckle covered it up. You saw Vito smile at you and hold his thumb up. 
“Then there’s my found family. I’d like to thank the Leclercs for truly putting time and effort into my career. I can’t count the amount of times on my hand that Pascale sent me some extra food whenever she visited Arthur. I know she’s not here tonight, but she deserves all of my thanks. She truly treated me like her own, even if I wasn’t. She’s been the mother that I never got to have growing up.” 
“To Charlie, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to race and compete against my childhood hero. But here we are, with you looking at my backside throughout the season.” 
You heard a “hey!” from Charles that made the crowd laugh even louder. 
“But, we both know you came out on top despite some difficulties. Thank you for being so kind to me. And thank you for signing all three pairs of my Lightning McQueen Crocs.” 
Charles blew you a kiss which you pretended to catch. 
“Last and not least of my Leclerc entourage, Arthur. I cannot begin anywhere to ever tell you how thankful I was to be your teammate in Formula 2. You saw a frightened and anxiety-ridden girl, who thought that the 2023 season would be the end of her driving career. But, you took me to dinner after our first meeting, and in the process might have taken my heart as well. I’m glad that it only took me crashing my car in Japan for you to finally confess.” 
Once again, you choked a bit. But, you’re pretty sure that everyone in the room did as well. You sniffed as you wiped your eyes. 
“But I wouldn’t have it anyway.” 
At the table, there wasn’t a dry eye at all. Arthur was wiping at his eyes harshly in frustration. The tears would not stop falling. Even Max was crying and you hadn’t even said anything in his direction. The Dutchman knew that he would be a gonner the moment you said his name. 
“To the Red Bull team. Like I’ve said all night, there aren’t any words that could sum up my gratitude. I remember hearing the news that Max was signed at 17 and I only thought, gosh they had balls.” 
More laughter from the crowd. 
“Charles might be driving for Ferrari, but I have always wanted to drive for the energy drink team. Their famous saying, Red Bull gives you wings, has been entirely true for this season. You took a chance on me and gave me my wings to fly and soar. Thank you Christian for treating me like the dad I never had. I’m excited to be driving for you for many years.” 
You changed your card and looked down at the wobbly words due to tears. You looked up, and at that moment, you realized that your eye makeup must have been running. Oh well, who cares. 
“And finally, but maybe the most important person of all in this room, other than me of course.” 
Soft laughs could be heard despite the sobering moment to come. Everyone had been waiting to see what you would say about Max. 
“If there was an award for best teammate, I would give Max the trophy over and over again. I was so nervous to meet him. I didn’t want to be disrespectful, because you don’t just become a three-time world champion’s teammate without doing something right in life. But that happened to me. Almost immediately, I could tell that Max would be a good one.
“The night we met, he took me out to get ice cream and showed me pictures of his cats for hours. At Christmas, he knew that I didn’t have any family to spend it with and all but dragged me back to his home in Monaco. He made sure I knew that I was welcomed and loved. 
“Because that is what I admire about Max. Not his career, not his driving, and definitely not his cooking skills. I admire him for his ability to be kind and to love easy. I never had the best childhood, and Max knew nothing about it, but he treated me with such preciosity. He made me feel wanted for maybe the second time in my life. 
“My childhood was filled with moments of unwantedness. I was a female going against the best boys and men in the motorsport leagues. I was treated unfairly sometimes, but I was never treated like that with Max. 
“So, Maximillian, I can’t thank you enough for making a little girl’s dream come true. I might have won all of these awards tonight, but I only feel like a winner because I am walking away with a group that no family could beat. 
“So thank you from the bottom of my heart.” 
The amount of applause could not be contained in the room. Even the security guards outside the door could hear the cheers and claps coming from the different personnel in the room. It wasn’t long before everyone was standing for you as you walked down. 
However, Max seemed to stand the straightest in pride for you. If it wasn’t for the tear stains on his cheeks, you wouldn’t even know that he had been crying. There was a genuine smile on his face. His arms opened for a hug when you got to the table. You put yourself there as he wrapped his arms around you. Your head rested gently on his shoulder. You felt his lips touch your forehead.
Once the hug was over, you felt another person wrap their hands around. You knew who is was once his lips touched your own. You melted a bit before Arthur leaned back.
“I am so proud of you.”
“Thank you mon bebe.” 
A groan left his lips. 
“You know what it does when you speak my language.” 
A smirk grew on your lips. “Oh I know.” 
Arthur only rolled his eyes. 
“My rookie of the year.” 
Max’s hands landed on your shoulder and Arthur’s. To be honest, you forgot that the rest of the word even existed. Oops. 
“Not rookie anymore. Time for the sophomore year!” Max’s voice sounded above the crowd. 
You looked up at the Dutchman. 
“I’m going to win the championship this year.” 
“No you aren’t.” 
“You are both wrong. I will be the world champion.” 
“Sure Charles, sure.” 
y/n.89 has posted
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y/n.89 wow, I didn't expect to be walking home with three trophies tonight 😚 all jokes aside, thank you to the FIA for naming me Rookie of the Year (even if I was the only one) and then for granting me the first ever Woman of the Year in Motorsports. I'm hoping that in the next few years, others will be able to be bestowed this award like I have been. Thank you everyone! See you in a few months for testing 💙 - rookie out
liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n.nation, and 6,204,957 others
y/n.nation if you look in the back of the fourth picture, you can see me drowning on my tears
arthur_leclerc I am totally fine being the trophy husband
y/n.89 awwww I'm glad that I can have you as the trophy husband
y/nxarthur HUSBAND?
maxverstappen1 HUSBAND??
charles_leclerc HUSBAND?????
y/n.89 I said what I said - haters gonna hate 🤭
box_box_express I cannot WAIT for preseason testing, why do I miss this already?
y/n&co I'm just waiting for the DTS episode, it's going to be so good
y/n4ever her speech tonight, I'm kind of worried for the episode...
lestappenlove oh gosh, Charles and Max looked like such proud older brothers (I don't think I've ever seen either of them cry before)
maxverstappen1 couldn't have done anything without you kid! even if you continue to call me Maximilian in front of thousands and thousands of people
y/n.89 I don't care - you'll always be my maximillian 😆
sophomore_y/n the trophies are so pretty 🥹
formula1_edits I can see all the videos and edits on tik tok forming now - maybe something Harry Styles 🤔
author everything is going to be all right - just like it always is
y/n.89 thank you for making this happen!
author anything for you kid...anything
charles_leclerc CAN I BE WORLD CHAMPION PLEASE?????
formulala_delulu WHY IS IT ENDING??? 😭
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shonen-brainrot · 9 months
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Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who revels in the whirlwind of our past relationship, now faces the aftermath of your departure after you decided to cut him off. Fueled by a fiery concoction of rage and heartbreak, he struts into a darker, more sinister version of himself, leaving reverberations of chaos in every damn corridor of his existence.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who'll be showing up uninvited at your new home because he heard you were moving on with someone new, the sting of jealousy evident in his actions.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who'll be engaging in heated arguments and raising his voice out of sheer jealousy anytime he sees you happy. "You think you can just walk away and I'll let you? I'll make sure every step you take is a reminder of what you left behind!"
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who will apologize for screaming at you with a warm hug after yet another argument he caused.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, for whom the training becomes a way of releasing his pent-up anger at himself, which sometimes leads to him overdoing it and pulling something or straining a muscle, but he refuses to go to the medbay in his agency because he knows you might be there.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who can't get used to sleeping alone at night. For years you had always been there with him, and now that you aren't, the silence and the loneliness are deafening. He's still intoxicated by the memories of you, relentlessly holding onto the past and struggling to move on.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who somehow finesses you into going out for a drink one evening when your new boyfriend is off doing whatever at the delegation, all in the name of talking and setting things straight. Surprisingly, you end up having a blast, reminiscent of the good old times, and, of course, you both get completely wasted. With the night still young, you both decide to hit the dancefloor.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, with his hands shamelessly exploring every inch of your body as you grind your ass against his crotch, completely oblivious to the impact it's having on him. Katsuki grunts throatily into your ear, a vice-like grip on your hip and waist, because subtlety was never his damn forte.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, whose brain's on the fritz, declares that it's high time for you to saunter your way back home. In the taxi he commandeers, he lounges on the back seat like he owns the place, a solid arm draped around your shoulders as your head lazily lolls on the crook of his neck. Amidst giggles and banter, you reminisce about the good old times.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, his other hand making a bold move between your thighs. Mentally thanking the universe for your choice of a short dress, he smirks as his rough fingers skillfully push aside the fabric of your panties to rub your folds slowly. You, under the influence, offer no objection. A wicked grin plays on his lips as he relishes the sensation of your wetness slowly covering his fingertips, and you can't help but let out an anticipatory gasp.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who, the moment you two step into your swanky new house, wastes no time pinning you against the nearest wall. He swiftly tugs your panties down your legs, expertly wrapping your leg around his hip. With a hand that's practically shaking, he skillfully works on unbuckling his pants.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who drives his cock into you, evoking a gasp from your parted lips. He's relentless, kissing and nibbling on your exposed neck, growling with satisfaction at the wetness and warmth of your ever tight pussy is enveloping his throbbing member.
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who's railing you, going all in with a pace that's as fast and brutal as a damn hurricane. He has your thighs shaking as you scream his name. Your pussy clenches around his cock, practically begging for every drop of his cum, and he's more than willing to oblige, growling in your ear, "Yeah, bitch, just like that, taking my cock so well, just like back when I was your boyfriend. You miss my cock, hmm? Yeah, of course you do, tsch!"
Ex boyfriend!Bakugo, who unleashes a guttural growl like an animal as he finishes inside you, emptying his balls deep in your cunt until the tip of his cock brushes against your cervix again and again. Katsuki's seed spurts as the man kisses you with a hunger, sucking on your tongue. "I'll fucking make you mine again, doll."
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mabelstone · 4 months
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Why would you be loved?
hozier x f!reader
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part two of lullabies <3 | part one | masterlist
cw: teeeeeny bit of violence at very beginning ... also 18+ ok if u are unfamiliar with me... this is my thing. this character is FICTIONAL before u attack me for sexualising THE hozier
word count: 3.2k
*i've decided i'd like this to be a slow burn... but don't worry! i will add things to keep u interested (or attempt to)
The sticky slap of their skin echoed through the room, my heart thudding loud enough in my ears to deafen the noise.
I lurched forward, grabbing the leggy blonde from the bar by her hair, yanking her off of Joe and slamming her naked body into the wall. She gasped loudly, falling onto the ground where she watched on in horror. I grabbed the nearest object I could reach - his bedside lamp - smashing the ceramic over his head, screaming in his face about how he's fucked this up for good.
Except that's not what happened.
I opened the door to the same scenario, except I didn't lose my temper and tear the two of them to shreds. My heart still pounded harder than ever, but I simply backed out into the hall without a sound. My eyes must've been something of a Tim Burton character as I walked back outside, leaving the front door wide open. I didn't even grab anything as my handbag was still over my shoulder. I dug around for my phone, finding nothing but an old gum packet, some lipgloss, and some loose change.
"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, running my hands through my hair. I had my phone in the bar. Did I leave it in Andrew's car? Fuck, did I leave it at the bar? I began to panic, frantically walking down the street. As if I could walk all the way back! It was at least 15 kilometres from my place. I didn't care though, continuing to pace in the cold in clothing more suited to warmer weather. I kept replaying what I saw over and over in my head. I'd usually call my mum, but...
The way his hands were digging into her skin, the way she kept repeating how good he was making her feel. I felt sick to my stomach, and the alcohol wasn't helping. I'm not sure they even saw me, but once he finished (judging by the sounds he was making, wouldn't be too long) he'd see the doors open and connect the dots.
I turned my head as I heard someone whistle from across the street, inexplicably grateful to see Andy's car. "What're you doin'?"
"Do you have my phone?" My voice sounded foreign to me, robotic and desperate at the same time. I crossed the street, heading straight for the passenger side.
"Your lifeline is right here, hence why I am," he laughed, holding my phone out to me. I just stood at the door expressionless, and he probably thought my drinks had been spiked or I'd gone mad. "You... alright?"
"Joe is cheating on me," robotically sounding again. Though saying the words out loud made it suddenly real. Joe is cheating on me.
"What?" His eyebrows shot up, dipping his head to see my face better. "What? When?"
"Like, literally right now," I laughed. I began to laugh hysterically, having to rest my hands on the top of his car to steady myself. I laughed so hard, tears began to stream down my face and my stomach hurt.
The next thing I knew, that familiar warm hand was on my back, followed by a soft, "c'mere". I turned to face Andrew, immediately bursting into tears. Real tears this time. He pulled me in close to his chest, one arm easily wrapped around my shoulders, the other cradling the back of my head. I sobbed into his shirt, likely accidentally digging my nails into his back as I clung to him. If I did, he didn't comment on it. He held me tight, rubbing soft circles into my spine with his palm. I don't know how long we stood there for, but when I pulled away, his shirt was soaked and covered in mascara.
"I'm so sorry," I gave a half hearted laugh, gesturing to the stained cotton. "I will wash it for you, I'm good at getting stains out."
"Don't be ridiculous," he smiled that poor you smile he always did, but this time it felt like a comfort as he shook his head. "You can come back to mine and shower. Then we can figure this out."
"No, no, I don't want to put you out." I protested, wiping under my eyes, undoubtedly smudging the black into my hairline. I sniffled, wiping my snotty nose onto the sleeve of my cardigan. If Joe was right about Andy being infatuated with me, I definitely just destroyed that in one simple, snotty gesture.
"I insist," he smiled, leaning against the side of the car. I was exhausted, and a nice shower in a house that didn't reek of infidelity sounded too good to reject. I nodded and climbed into the passenger seat for the second time tonight, switching on my phone to see no new messages. Maybe he didn't see me after all.
I slipped into an oversized hoodie of Andrew’s after my shower, steam on the mirror and condensation on every surface from the amount of time I was in there. I felt guilty using his water, but time slipped away from me by the time I realised. He had real shampoo and conditioner, not that pathetic 3 in 1 bullshit Joe used. I stole a hair tie and hid my messy curls in a bun. I honestly looked like a mess, but it was definitely an improvement from before. My eyes were bloodshot and puffy. Most of the alcohol had fleeted my system, so now I was just exhausted and forced to bask in the reality of the situation.
I walked into his living room where he was sat, one arm slung over the back of the couch while the other flicked through Netflix. It was strange to see him in his space, so comfortable and… domestic. No, we’re not doing this. Yet.
I looked down and saw a black border collie mix strewn across his lap. “Oh my goodness!” I swooned as I headed straight for the dog. Andy mustn’t have heard me, jumping slightly and cursing under his breath. “How rude of me. Who’s this little angel?”
“The breaking of my heart,” he began, hand over his chest as he stared lovingly down at his dog. “Elwood.”
“Elwood? Really?” I quirked an eyebrow, looking up to Elwood’s owner.
“It’s a beautiful name for a beautiful boy, I don’t understand the issue?”
I rolled my eyes, going back to snuggling the dog, kissing his face all over. “He is beautiful. Yes you are!” Elwood wagged his tail excitedly, slobbering happily all over my hands.
Andrew chuckled down at us, averting his eyes back to the TV, a soft smile lingering on his lips.
“Thanks for letting me use your shower, Andy,” I smiled, sitting beside him on the lounge, feeling like the human embodiment of the calm after a storm.
“Oh, that’s no problem at all," he grinned earnestly, playing the pilot of Breaking Bad softly in the background. He lulled his head to the side, eyes glistening in the soft golden lighting of the lamp in the corner of the room. "Want a tea?"
"Please," I nodded, Elwood now snuggled into my lap. The moment he left the room, I was left with the crushing reality of what'd just happened. The horrible sound that plagued my phonic memory, as if it were played through headphones at a deafening volume. I tried to focus on the TV, Breaking Bad had always been my favourite. It was no use, the gut wrenching ache within me only multiplied by the minute, tears welling in my eyes, daring to fall.
"I wasn't sure how you take it so I bought everything with me," he placed two tea cups onto his coffee table, along with a carton of milk and a canister of sugar.
"So adorable, you remind me of my gran," I teased, desperately trying to blink away any trace of sadness before he had a chance to see. I didn't need to burden him with any more tears.
"You know, I've been called far worse," he shrugged, taking his tea black, sitting beside me on the couch. "So I'll take it."
I hummed in response, mixing in my milk and sugar.
"So... maybe a redundant question, but, how're you feeling?"
"Well," I chuckled bitterly, sipping from my tea. "Probably feeling as you'd expect. Actually, that's a lie. I don't know how I feel honestly."
His eyes studied my features, and I deliberately avoided his gaze. His dog snored away in my lap, the TV just loud enough that any amount of silence couldn't be awkward.
"Has... anything like this happened to you?" I asked, despite the voice in my head telling me not to.
"Ehm, yeah. Not too long ago, actually," he sighed, running a hand through his hair, his chocolate curls flicking up at the ends, framing his face beautifully in the light. "We were together for three years. She was sleeping around with a friend of mine. She broke it off with me when she decided she'd rather be with him."
"Her loss," I mirrored that same pitiful look he always gave me, the slight drop in his expression making me feel guilty for even asking. "You make a mean cup of tea."
"If only she could appreciate the art of English Breakfast," he sighed, a sad smile lingering on his lips despite the sarcasm in his tone.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Andy," I sighed, tempted to reach out for him but deciding against it in fear of breaching some unspoken boundary. "I'll get out of your hair soon."
"You can stay- only if you'd like," he offered awkwardly, eyes flickering to mine as he fiddled with the handle of his cup. "There's a spare bedroom."
"No, no. You've been so kind tonight, I don't want to push it," I shook my head, misjudging the height of the coffee table, my cup hitting it with a sharp clank. Elwood startled, throwing his head back to look at me. "Sorry, buddy."
"You're not pushing anything," he laughed, shaking his head now. "It's late. The decision's all yours. But I must say, that bed might be nicer than my own."
"Quite persuasive, aren't you?" I grinned, throwing my head back against the couch, weighing up my options. Well, I can't go home. "Okay. I'll stay... if you're sure that's okay?"
"Well, because you're twisting my arm..." He joked, that bright, happy smile making its glorious return. "I'll get you a spare toothbrush and a bottle of water. You've had a big night."
"Yeah," I breathed, rubbing at my burning, no doubt bloodshot, eyes. "I am exhausted."
"Come, I'll show you to your room," he got up from the couch, extending his hand to me. I took it in mine, warm and calloused; so large, his fingers reached my wrist as he helped me from the couch. I followed behind him, the soft padding of our feet up the stairs slowly becoming the only sound audible. Elwood trailing close behind, of course.
He showed me to the guest room, nothing special, but somehow a massive comfort. A navy blue, fluffy duvet with a bedside table, a simple lamp and a copy of Inferno by Dante Alighieri atop it.
"Oh, I'll grab that toothbrush," he waved his hand as if he were finally able to dismiss the thought. I chuckled at the way he hurried out of the room, the exhaustion rippling through my body as I sat on the edge of the bed. He was right. This might be the comfiest bed I've ever had the pleasure of sitting on. I zoned out, staring at the carpet as I finally sobered up. These past few weeks had been fucked, and I knew they'd only get worse. My phone started buzzing rapidly as Andy came back into the room, a bottle of water, a toothbrush still in the packaging, and a sheet of panadol in his hands. He silently placed them onto the bedside table, both of us just watching my phone ring. It was Joe.
Against my better judgement, I picked up on the last ring, raising the phone to my ear.
"Where are you?" His voice was hoarse, unsuspecting. Idiot.
"Doesn't matter," I sighed, nauseated at the sound of his voice.
"Well, it does. I've been worried sick about you, you're meant to be home now. How would I know you hadn't been kidnapped or gone home with some creep?"
"That is ironic," I laughed, though there was no humour in my tone.
"The fuck are you on about? Get home right now." He was getting angrier by the second. Andrew could hear every word, his brows knitted together in disgust as he listened on.
"I did come home. You were a bit busy," I swallowed harshly, my voice failing me, beginning to shake.
There was silence on his end for a good thirty seconds, all air in Andrew's small guest bedroom thinning at once. "...Babe. We will get through this."
"I don't think so."
"Don't say shit like that. I love you, Y/N. We'll get through this stronger than ever. Just come home, baby. I'll make it up to you," he was speaking fast, panicked almost.
"I need some space," I replied weakly, eyes filling with tears again.
"No. I love you. Come home. Please, babe, pl-"
I hung up on him before he got the chance to manipulate me straight back into his arms, Andy watching me with a frown. Suddenly, it was all too real, and I was breaking down in front of him for the second time tonight.
He didn't say anything. I felt the bed dip beside me, his warm arm wrapping around my shoulder, pulling me in close. We stayed like that for a while - my head leaned against his shoulder as I cried, his head atop mine - until I felt like there was no water left in my body. I heaved a massive sigh, sitting up straight again.
"Oh, Andy, I'm so s-"
"You've nothing to be sorry for," he hushed me, sincerity written all over his face, kind emerald eyes revealing that he wasn't doing anything for secondary gain; he was just a beautiful soul. "Get some rest."
"Okay," I agreed, pulling back the covers with his help. I wanted him to stay, I didn't want to be alone. I wished he could've just laid with me, no meaning attached, but just to have the warmth of another to occupy the cold, empty bed. Instead I thanked him again, pulling the covers up to my chin.
"You know where my room is. I'll be there if you need anything," he smiled earnestly, flicking off the light before walking out.
Goodnight, Andy, I almost said, but sleep washed over me quicker than I could form the words.
I woke early, bathed in velvety caramel coloured sunlight, slowly beginning to register where I was. I made my way down to corridor to Andy's room, his bedroom door barely ajar. I put my ear to the door, not wanting to wake him if he were still sleeping. I heard soft pants escaping his lips, letting my curiosity get the best of me.
I gently pushed the door open, revealing the glow of his milky skin in the same light. His beautiful halo of curls sticking to his slightly sweaty forehead, his face contorted in pleasure and concentration as he worked himself beneath the covers. I couldn't suppress the noise of surprise that escaped my lips as he whimpered my name.
"Fuck-" He gasped, pulling his hand from under the cover. "I'm sorry, I-"
"Keep going," I encouraged, slowly making my way to him. Confusion plastered all over his face, he obliged, slipping his hand back under the cover. I sat before him, our eyes locked on one another as he picked up the pace. "Gooood, that's it."
His brows furrowed as he continued to worked himself, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat with each swallow. I slipped into bed beside him, my hand replacing his. His breathing pattern grew irregular, every vowel of my name dripping off his tongue, igniting a fire deep in my core. I began placing wet kisses along jawline, making my way down to his neck, then his chest, then-
And then I actually woke up, heart beating at a million miles an hour. What. The. Fuck. Shame immediately coursed through my veins, burying my face into my pillow as I replayed the dream over and over until it was committed to memory. Am I an awful person?
I could vaguely hear Andrew singing along to Let's Fall In Love by Ella Fitzgerald in the kitchen, cautiously making my way down the stairs. I was disgusted in myself for even thinking of him in that way, let alone loving every shame filled second of it.
"Mornin'," I made myself known, sliding onto one of the stools at his breakfast bar.
"Good morning," he chirped, sliding a cup of coffee toward me. He had his glasses on this morning, his hair pulled back into a bun. "How're you feelin'?"
"Good," I lied through my teeth, concealing it with an enthusiastic nod. "Better, yeah." I just gave you a handjob in my dream and now I want you to pin me to the couch and make love to me all day. Oh, and I'm supposed to be grieving a near 6 year relationship, but now I'm just really fucking confused. "How are you?"
"Hungry. And I hope you are too," he grinned, revealing a big stack of pancakes he'd just cooked for us, as well as a bowl of chopped strawberries.
"I am, that looks lovely," another lie. I had no appetite. But I also couldn't say no to a man so sickly sweet. He sat beside me, soft jazz serenading us from his record player.
"What've you got on today?" He queried, plopping a pancake onto each of our plates.
"Might visit my ma, update her on... everything, I guess. Then I've gotta get my car. Maybe some clothes. Fuck, I don't even know what to do," I laughed awkwardly, taking a sip of my coffee. "You performing tonight?"
"Hoping to," he nodded, taking a bite of a strawberry. "You know you're more than welcome to spend the night here again."
"I couldn't possibly burden you for another night," I deflected, mirroring his actions and popping a strawberry into my mouth.
"You actually don't have to fight me each time, you cay just say no," he chuckled, shaking his head at me.
"I love spending time with you," I confessed, resting my hand on his arm, then retracting it just as fast. "I just don't want you to think I'm using you."
"Nonsense," he waved me off, scoffing. "It's nice to have some company. Plus, Elwood has taken a strong liking to you."
"The feeling is mutual," I laughed, breaking off a piece of my pancake for the dog happily wagging his tail by my feet. "I'm sure you have lady friends come and visit."
"Only ones who ruin their tea with milk and barely touch their pancakes," he remarked with a wide grin. I felt my cheeks turn hot at his stupid comment, finally digging in to my breakfast.
Maybe things weren't going to be so bad after all.
i don't love this... but this desperately needed an update. feel free to send requests of some stuff you'd like in the next chapter xx
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lyjen · 8 months
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Duty calls
Summary: A sergeant and Evan keep on running in to each other but their conversation always gets cut off.
A/N: English is not my first language so don’t hate on me lmfao. Also just thought this was a cute story ish. Enjoy!
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Just as (Y/n) steps out of the door with her usual coffee order, a car smashed into the side of an other car. The collision happened right in front of her eyes. She immediately drops her coffee to the ground, and she runs on to the scene. “Dispatch this is 442-L23, I need an RA unit on the corner of West 9th street and south olive street. I have a two car collision.” (Y/n) speaks into her walkie.
(Y/n) gets to the car of the person who crashed into the other car. The window of the car was opened when it crashed. “Sir are you okay?” The man stares forward, and after a few seconds he turns towards (Y/n). The man was clearly in shock. “Are you in any pain?” She asks while she quickly inspects the man. The man shakes his head as a sign for “no”. But if the man was really in shock, then he wouldn’t be able to feel the pain. “Sir I need you to sit still, and stay where you are. The fire department is on their way, they will assist you getting out of the car.”
Due to the crash, the door of the drivers side got an impact which made the door unable to open without heavy equipment. She pointed to a bystander, watching from the sidewalk. “You. Come here, and keep this man talking.” she needed to get to the other victim in the other car, but needed the driver to stay conscious. And the best way to do that, was keep him talking. The man fastened towards the car and nodded as an answer to her order she gave him. While the man kept standing at the window with the driver.
Y/n hurries to the second car, which was in much badder shape. (Y/n) saw that the driver of the second car was a young woman. Due to the impact of the crash a large piece of glass had gotten itself free of the window and landed in the neck of the woman.
“Ma’am are you alright?” (Y/n) asks while she tries to get to the window of the woman. The woman touches her neck. “I have to get to my mom” she says, starting to panic. “Ma’am do not tou-“ before (Y/n) could finish her sentence, the woman pulled out the large piece of glass and a wave of blood came out of the wound. The woman screamed out an ear deafening scream.
“Shit, shit, shit!!” (Y/n) hurried to the passenger door, opens it and gets in the car next to the woman. While getting in the car, she feels a few pieces of glass lightly scraping her hand. But she didn’t care, all she cared about was helping the woman who was basically bleeding to death in front of her.
She puts her knee as support on the passenger seat, “okay ma’am I’m not gonna lie. This is gonna hurt like hell.” And with that said she pushes both of her hands on the wound to try and stop the bleeding, the woman screams out but gets used to the amount of pressure (Y/n) put on the wound.
“What’s your name?” (Y/n) asked, trying to take slow breaths to keep herself calm. (Y/n) knew she had to keep the woman conscious, so she asked the most simple question she could think of. “Liv” the woman the woman spoke softly between the sobs. “Okay Liv, my name is (Y/n), help is on the way. You’re gonna be okay. Just keep breathing.” She tried to calm the young woman down. Tears kept streaming down the woman’s face. “So you were on your way to see your mom?” she asked. Liv tried to nod, “We were supposed to go shopping.” She says through her sobs.
In the distance (Y/n) could hear the fire truck sirens and ambulance. Just trying to keep Liv conscious, (Y/n) asked “where were you planning on going shopping?” “We were going to the mall, shopping for some decorations for my dorm room.” She told her, gasping for breaths. (Y/n) also noticed the woman had trouble with keeping her eyes open.
(Y/n) was so focused on the woman, that she didn’t noticed the LAFD were already on scene. One of the firefighters got in the back of the car, so they could give Liv the help they needed. (Y/n) kept pressure on the wound like she did from the first second.
“Woman around 20 years old, name is Liv. A piece of glass from the window broke off and got stuck in her neck. And I think because of the shock, she pulled it out. It started bleeding like crazy.” (Y/n) spoke to the firefighter in the backseat. “Sounds like the glass hit her artery. How long have you been putting pressure on the wound?” The female firefighter asked while she went through the medic bag beside her. “About like three minutes I guess.” (Y/n) answered.
“Ma’am I’m Hen, I’m with the LAFD.” She said to Liv, the victim who was still conscious but could go out any second. Liv hummed a small okay. “Here’s what we’re going to do. Keep pressure on the wound, on the count of three you let go, and I will take over from you. Then you get out of the car and one of my colleagues will assist me further.” Hen said. (Y/n) nodded. “One.. two.. three..” (Y/n) let go of the wound and not even after a half a second Hen’s hands were putting pressure on the wound. (Y/n) got out of the car as fast as possible. She wouldn’t want to be the one to hold them up doing their job. As (Y/n) stepped aside, an other firefighter took (Y/n)’s position in front of the car while they worked on Liv.
(Y/n) walked a few meters away from the car. Leaning her back against the wall, to come to her senses. She sighed, and took a few deep breaths. “Hey, are you okay?” A voice asked. She looked to her left to see a firefighter walking towards her. Slowly. She nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine… just a little bit of blood.” (Y/n) said softly. Her trembling hands were covered in blood from the woman, with a few other cuts she didn’t noticed before. That must have happened when she entered the car in such a hurry. “Can I take a look at that?” He asked carefully, while he pointed at her hands. (Y/n)’s face was doubtful, she wanted to say no, because there are people out there who might need the care more than she did herself. That was typically (Y/n), always putting other’s needs first. “I’m specialised at scratches.” He continued, trying to convince her. She sighed, and nodded.
The firefighter put the medic bag he had hung over his shoulder on the ground. He started to get some gauze out and a bottle with a little spray head. As he stood up, he smiled at her and he started carefully to clean the wounds on her hand. “I don’t know how I didn’t noticed I’ve cut my own damn’ hand.” (Y/n)’s voice speaks, while she hissed at the staining feeling she got while the firefighter was cleaning the wound. He grinned, “There was so much going on… you were alone, in the moment and full of adrenaline. Of course it can happen that something slipped your mind.“ The guy says with a worried look spread on his face. (Y/n) was looking at the scene, the other firefighters of the team were trying to get Liv free. “But right now, all that matters is that you’ve saved that woman’s life with these two hands.” He continued, while pointing at Liv, the girl who was finally getting pulled out of the car. (Y/n) smiled slightly at his comment, and stayed silent.
“You know, i don’t think we’ve ever met before.” He says after a few moments of silence. He looked at (Y/n) with a small smile, trying to wrap up the hand with the few cuts. (Y/n) didn’t know what to say, “No… I don’t think so…” she says, unsure what to say. “I’m Evan, but people call me Buck.” he says to her with a reassuring smile, while he finished wrapping up her hand. “(Y/n)”.
“Buck come on let’s go!” A voice roared over the scene. “That’s my cue to leave.” The firefighter says, while he closes the medic bag. “Well.. Evan… thank you for the pep talk. And this.” (Y/n)’s voice speaks while motioning with her hands. A smile spreads across Buck’s face while he swings the medic bag over his shoulder. “Please, call me Buck. And no problem, us first responders should be there for each other.. right?” Evan says.
“Buck! Let’s go!” An impatient voice yelled now, while the horn of the fire truck sounded through the streets. Probably to get Evan’s attention. “Coming!” He yelled back slightly irritated. He turned his head back to (Y/n). “I’m sorry. Duty calls.” He says. And he jogged towards the fire truck, while halfway he turns towards (Y/n) so he was basically jogging backwards. “It’s was nice to meet you sergeant” He yelled, trying to get above the sounds of the LA streets. She wanted to say that it was nice to meet him too. But before she could do that, he was already climbing into the rig. All she could do was smile, and get back to her work.
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A few days later, (Y/n) stepped through the doors of the hospital to go to the emergency room. There was a robber who got shot in the chest by a store owner. She was here to make up a police report and to make sure the man didn’t make a run for it.
As she walks towards the desk where one of the nurses was sitting down. She greeted the nurse and told her for who she was coming for. The nurse nodded and told her to wait for a few moments, she had to check with someone else of the status from that patient.
As (Y/n) waited and watched a few people walk in and out of the emergency room. As she hears the sliding doors of the ER open again, with lots of people walking through it. She turns her head, and sees a few paramedics and firefighters enter through the doors. A loud voice filled the room with the voice of a man “Unknown male, around 50 years old, BP is…-“ the words, along with the medical terms the paramedic was calling out seem to fade. When her eyes meet his.
He smiles and walks towards (Y/n), while he for a second looks at the ground and back at her. His face was covered in ashes. He has his florescent jacket in his right hand. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.” were the first words to leave Evan’s mouth. She laughs, while fidgeting with her fingers. “I’m only here to write a report.” is the only thing she can seem to bring out with words. A small laugh left Evan’s lips.
He pointed at her hands, “How are your hands?” He asked, trying to change the subject. It was a weird question to ask, especially if people didn’t knew the context of it.
She smiled and put her hands up, so she could show him. “Like you said, you are specialised in scratches.” He smiled. “Oh they look great!” He says as he grabbed one of her hands and pulled it a little closer so he could get a good look. (Y/n) was a little surprised by the touch of the firefighter.
“And how was your call?” She asks him this time. He wasn’t at the hospital by coincidence. He was here for a reason, because a few moments earlier they wheeled a patient in.
He took his eyes of (Y/n)’s hand. But kept his hand cupped underneath hers, with her palm up. “Just a house fire” he smiled at her, like it was nothing new. While his other hand fingers wandered over the scratches of her hand. And she just nodded. Unsure what to answer to that.
“Ma’am?” The nurse called her. “The gun shot wound patient is in bay 14” she continued as (Y/n) looked at her. She nodded “Thank you”.
“Well, duty calls.” (Y/n) spoke, as she was slowly backing up entering the ER. But still facing Evan. “Guess we’re even now! Last time it was me, now it’s you.”
All she could do was smile and roll her eyes.
“See you later?” Was the only thing he said with an hopeful smile.
“Yeah, see you later.” (Y/n) gave him a small smile, and turned around. And walked away.
Evan felt his smile grow wider and a spark of warmth go through his body.
A hand landed on his shoulder, as he turned his face to the right he could see Eddie smiling and shaking his head.
“What?” Evan spoke, stating that he didn’t do anything.
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Sitting on a chair at the bar, (Y/n) leaned with her right elbow on the bar. Fidgeting with the empty glass in her hands.
After a day on the job, you always need a place where you can come to yourself. She was here all alone. Because that’s what she needed. But she wouldn’t want to be alone at home. It was hard to explain.
She can see in the corner of her eye, that someone took place on her right side. “You couldn’t stay away from me, couldn’t you?” A familiar voice asked.
Still fidgeting with the glass in her hand on the bar, she smiled and feels her cheeks flushing. “Technically, you’re the one who keeps coming to me.” (Y/n) says, while her eyes remained on the glass she was touching.
“I was the first in that collision scene, and the first at the hospital when you wheeled that patient in. And I also think that you were the one who came sitting next to me just a second ago.” She continued. She smiled as she looked to her right. Evan held his hands up in defence. “Okay you got me there sergeant” he says. And he smiled. While he looked her in the eyes. Those beautiful sparkling eyes.
“But why are you in a firefighter bar then?” He smirked. Yeah. How was she going to explain that.
Her eyes drew the attention of a man who was closely walking past people and reaching out next to them. The guy was stealing money. “What the fuck” she whispered. Evan’s face got to a confused look. (Y/n) got up from her chair. “Hold that thought” (Y/n) said and she walked towards the guy.
Just as the guy tries to put out his hand and to steal from another person, (Y/n)’s hand touches the man’s shoulder. “You’re under arrest.” Is the only thing she says. The man reaches his arm out to hit her, but she ducked. She locks the man’s arm, put it behind his back and pushes him down on the table with all her strength.
A crowd starts to form around her, while she puts the man in handcuffs. She sees Evan staring in disbelief. She gave Evan a glance.
“Duty calls” she said.
Why is it always that, when they have a conversation duty calls.
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