#take note bby

[fistfuloflightning]

When Ming Fan finally fought his way through the underbrush to where the Rift had appeared, it was already too late. Shizun and Luo Binghe stood at the edge of the yawning chasm, swords unsheathed and pointed at each other. He hadn’t thought much of it when Shen Qingqiu had flown past him so soon after the earthquake that had torn open the Rift, but he could now see there was something very wrong. Shen Qingqiu’s back was turned to Ming Fan and his face hidden, but he could see plainly the fear and confusion on Luo Binghe’s face. Along with the glowing, damning mark on his forehead. Something demonic.

Ming Fan gripped the foliage, forcing himself not to run out. Not yet. He’d end up dead or wishing he was. He had mocked Luo Binghe early in the Conference, yes, but he knew the younger boy had done nothing to merit this kind of punishment—!

In a matter of seconds, Xiu Ya had stabbed forward, Zheng Yang had shattered, and Luo Binghe had staggered back into the Rift.

Everything seemed to still.

Ming Fan sucked in an breath and darted out of the foliage—but it was too late. Luo Binghe’s arm vanished over the edge just as Ming Fan ran past their shizun. He lunged forward the last few feet, fingers clawing at Luo Binghe’s forearm just in time. Caught, held. The sudden weight had him crashing again against the ground and the wind was knocked out of him. The taste of charred earth mixed with that of fresh blood where he’d nearly bitten his tongue in half.

But that was inconsequential. Not when he could feel the weight at the end of his arm that told him he didn’t fail. Even when the only person he needed to acknowledge that fact was someone he couldn’t stand. No one deserves to die like this, Ming Fan thought viciously. Not even him.

Dangling below him, Luo Binghe’s eyes were wide with terror and confusion, at odds with the damning, demonic seal glowing on his forehead. But there was something like gratitude there as well, out of place and so painfully frail.

For a fragile second, it felt like they were breathing the same

“Shixiong—”

With a cry, he was wrenched from Ming Fan’s grip and into the Abyss below. Ming Fan’s cry was strangled in his throat.

He didn’t know how long he remained there, clenching the burned grass with white-knuckled fingers and straining his eyes to see through the acrid smoke that rose from the chasm for even the barest glimpse of Luo Binghe. But time moved on and the Rift sealed shut and when Ming Fan blinked and once more became aware of his surroundings, he realized he was not alone.

Shen Qingqiu loomed over him like a stone Buddha, face cold as jade. His spiritual sword was once more sheathed, his robes neat and not one hair out of place. As though he hadn’t had a hand in what had happened here.

“You… you killed him,” Ming Fan breathed, still unable to fully process what had just taken place. But that’s what it was, a death sentence fed to the hungry maw of the Endless Abyss.

Shen Qingqiu. “He was a stain upon our sect.”

Ming Fan could feel the rage slowly rise. “He was a disciple of Qing Jing Peak. He was your disciple.” Acknowledging it was like vinegar on his tongue but a boy was dead because of him. He stared at Shen Qingqiu as if seeing him for the first time. Stripped of his elegance and his masks…

“He was a demon.” Shen Qingqiu sneered down at him. “There is no need to explain to you why he needed to be eradicated.”

Ming Fan tore burning eyes away from that frigid, impassive mask. He couldn’t bear looking at the man he had so long idolized. Instead he stared at the ground, in fear he would do or say something he could not undo. And beside his knee he saw slivers of metal.

The shards of Zheng Yang, tangled in the burned grass. Ming Fan’s vision blurred and his breath grew sharp and ragged, anger slamming into him full force. He wrapped his fingers around the pieces, the razor pain of their edges grounding him as the rest of his world unraveled like poorly woven cloth. His shizun had failed him.

And he had failed his shidi.

[mblue-art]

once again i was fueled with coffee (did not sleep the whole night) but this time i doodled college au to cope bc ofc i did (also did not feel like sleeping wooo)

[shelikeswongkarwai]

[ of clapperboards and ]

ft. @051688 in another au because they won’t let us rest

Elena has no idea how she landed this gig. One of the assistants to an up and coming Korean actor? Especially when her grasp of the language had days where it was dubious at best? She had a friend who knew a guy who worked for another guy— all she wanted was work and she loved film and its inner workings. And rent needed to be paid. And apparently they wanted a foreigner on board, something about the emerging jdrama market… all she really heard was that she’d be on staff for some emerging heartthrob. 

The first time she met him, she didn’t really see it. Sure, he was tall and broad and had teeth, but she couldn’t help but wonder just how well this Ahn Bohyun character would do. And yes. In this verse they have the same names still. What about it?

She’d been braced and fed horror stories and the importance of keeping her distance and keeping things strictly professional. It was all a bit intimidating at first, being at someone’s beck and call, but the more experienced staffers acclimated her to the routine of things and gently corrected her Korean. The first time she got to join him on set with some other staffers, she begun to understand. 

It was some variety show that involved getting answers wrong and being thrown into water…? At least that’s what Elena could gather. It looked freezing. And harrowing. They got to watch most of it behind the production crew and during breaks they scuttled forward with towels and snacks and concerned looks. What got to her was his attitude. He was chipper. Unwavering in his grins despite his costume being soaked through and any and all hair products long gone from his matted hair. She remembered the way he smiled in thanks when she brought him a water bottle and she got to thinking that maybe he had a shot in this whole hallyu business. 

But of course, a few months later and she’s reminding herself: “He’s nice to everyone.” Because he is. It didn’t matter where you landed in the food chain, Bohyun had kindness to spare for everyone, even when there were no cameras around. It was mildly distressing when she noticed herself staring and sifting through magazines for his latest shoot. She’d even gone out of her way to buy his photobook, knowing good and well she could have just asked management for one. But she wanted to support him. And more importantly and urgently, wanted no one to know that sometimes her face went hot when he’d ask for her by name and ask her of her weekend as she struggled to remember why she’d gone to him to begin with. 

The worst was when he’d speak to her in her native tongue. Because of course he’s still multilingual and near perfect in this verse too, he wouldn’t be him if he weren’t. The first time it happened it was unexpected and a couple hours into a party they had thrown him after the last day of shooting for one of his recent dramas (something where he played a jerk and had to dye his hair— he couldn’t wait to go back to black). She realized pretty quickly into the gig that his staff adored him and found any excuse to celebrate his achievements, and this was no different.

She recalled nursing the same beer all night, she couldn’t imagine drinking on the job despite everyone shedding their usual formalities and relaxing, and somehow standing before the massacred congratulatory cake when he joined her. He smiled that big smile of his and asked her in well practiced Japanese, if she wanted a slice. Her mouth dropped. And he barked out a laugh, unfazed by her shock as he explained he’d taken an interest in the language back in secondary and was mostly self taught. Elena’s blood boiled: no human could be this perfect. She chugged from her beer at the notion.

He proceeded to cut her a slice and they continued to speak in Japanese, allowing her to unfurl and relax before she’d even realized it, and they sat on the floor across from each other volleying questions to each other like: “What’s your favourite book?”, “Why’s Merde your favourite short from ‘Tokyo!’?”, “Do you plan on doing this forever?” just to name a few. You can go ahead and make guesses as to who asked what. 

After that, she was a bit of a goner. For as young as she was, she was serious about her work and maintaining professionalism and respecting boundaries— yet there was only so much she could do about the wavering fist in her belly when they’d share a wave down a hallway or laugh at a tiktok between takes. Elena understood that he was a nice man, a good man, and that she couldn’t take anything to heart. She was just a kid after all finding her way in the world that was show business. 

With his growing fame came the rumours.

One week his female costar was supposedly in love with him and the next, he was apparently courting his model cast mate from a variety appearance the week before. They always found it amusing when the stories would pop up and as his staff they’d make it their mission to find the most ridiculous rumours online and show it to him. Bohyun was always tickled by them. Elena wished she could relate. Instead she went into private dives at home, skewering herself as she tried to find the source of these rumours and if there was any semblance of truth. It wasn’t as if she could ask him herself. That would be ridiculous. 

Nearly a year into the job and suddenly one of the rumours are true. Pictures are plastered all over the internet one random night of Bohyun leaving the apartment of a well known (and beautiful and talented) idol and even more disconcerting is the confirmation from both their companies that the two are in fact dating and doing so quietly and happily. The office is abuzz and the group chat doesn’t stop ringing from exclamations and assertions from the other staff that they knew it! A man like him couldn’t possibly be single and any girl would be lucky to date him. They were a very loyal team as you can see. The tight fist returned to her belly but this time it had morphed into a boulder and she wanted to barf all over everything.

She knew they were right. It made more sense that he was in a relationship, he was always being teased and prodded about his type and when he’d land himself a girlfriend and here he was, and she didn’t have it in her to celebrate with the rest of the team. 

She wasn’t an actress for a reason. She was terrible at pretending.

The next time she saw him, it's a few days after the announcement at their offices after what looked to be a meeting, she could barely catch his eyes when she wished him a perfunctory congratulations and tried to excuse herself with record speed. But unfortunately they were headed in the same direction and he had longer legs and gained on her in a few steps. 

“Elena-yah, where are you off to in such a hurry?” Suddenly she hated the honorific but couldn’t help but slow anyway because she liked her job (andmaybeshelikedhimew). 

“……cafeteria? Couple of the unnies want some coffee.” That wasn’t an entire lie. No one had actually asked for the drinks, but she knew they wouldn’t turn them down, and she couldn’t tell him she was trying to get away from him. 

“I’ll help. You can’t be expected to carry all that on your own.” She hated that he’d reverted to Japanese and that it made her palms sweat. 

“No, no, don’t worry. It’s not a lot. Don’t you have somewhere to be? Doesn't.... this place seem louder since the news?" She internally winced. Why had she brought it up? She didn’t want to and it wasn’t her business to begin with. 

She couldn’t see his bemused expression as he peeked down at her as they walked. “It’s almost as if no one can believe I could land someone like her. Am I so hideous?” When she shot him a look, she saw that familiar playfulness behind his eyes and tried not to gulp. 

“….if anything, she’s the lucky one.” She mumbled, coughing right after and pulling out her phone in an attempt at nonchalance. Like I said, Elena was a terrible actress. 

He does in fact help her with her improvised coffee order and they carry it back to the staff room, greeted with cheers and the delighted twitters of the team as he was bombarded with congratulations and hushed curiousity. Elena wanted no part in it, if that wasn’t obvious already, so she scurried into a corner and pretended to be preoccupied with the schedule. She popped her airpods in so she couldn’t overhear a thing. 

The months went on just like this. To everyone’s surprise, the new couple was heralded by all and fans from both sides were simply excited for the pair— it was so unlike the usual reception such announcements received. It figured his would be unprecedented, Elena thought, trying her damndest not to roll her eyes at all the praise lauded their way. She was only human. A young one with a crush at that. It was clear to all of them that he was happy. Happier than usual? She couldn’t be sure. But there were less impromptu team get togethers that he was available to show up for with his schedule filled to the brim to begin with, never mind the coordinating they were all sure it took for an idol and actor of their calibre. But leave it to Bohyun to find a way, they all thought. 

It was hard to be the jealous little gremlin that she was when everyone else in the office was so happy for the beautiful couple. She couldn’t disagree. They were picture perfect. 

In those months her Korean had improved and she was entertaining first and second dates. Her excuse had always been work and being too busy for such things out here, but if someone like Bohyun could do it, why couldn’t she? She wasn’t dumb. She was well aware she was trying to fan away the childish feelings in her chest by going out to dinner with a burgeoning model and by traipsing the night market with a university student. She couldn’t help it. Elena needed the distraction, more importantly, she needed something else, anything else, to replace the cloying crush. On the bad days, she’d search his name on Naver and scroll the onslaught of candids of the couple and the countless articles seemingly outlining every supposed aspect of their public relationship. They really did look good together. There was no denying that. But she couldn’t help but wonder what they talked about for hours on end and if she loved cinema as much as he did, and if she’d noticed the mole precariously positioned low on his torso, and if she knew that he snored when he was drunk, and if she’d seen his scars, and if she loved to camp as much as he did, and if they kissed like high schoolers with their first crush, and if—

“Earth to Elena… anybody home?” A voice cut through her cacophony of thoughts and she stirred to be met with the crinkled amusement of the very subject of her thoughts, face suddenly hot as she instinctively pulled back. He stole a look down at the phone in her hands and remembering that it was open to a slew of images of him and his girlfriend, she shoved the device between her legs. 

“Ah— sorry. Kind of zoned out there for a minute. Didn’t get much sleep last night,” she feigned a yawn. That was only half true. She was the nocturnal type and rarely got the recommended eight hours of sleep, but any excuse would do. 

Something that might be considered a grin played with his lips at that, and he straightened up once more, watching the young staffer, musing in playful Japanese. “I’ve heard a certain Japanese woman has been seen out on a number of dates recently. Have your suitors been keeping you out late?” 

If she thought her face was hot then, it was lava under the earth’s crust now. Mouth dry, what was she to say? Sensing her embarrassment, the actor laughed and patted the top of her head with one of his gargantuan hands. 

“I’m happy for you, Elena-yah. You’re young. You should be out there having fun.” Ah, yes. A reminder of their age gap. Just what the young woman needed. 

“…..I’m not that young.” She pouted, truly showcasing her youth. He could easily pass for someone in his mid to late twenties and she consistently envied the actor’s skin care. 

He laughed again, he did that often around her, and she watched his broad back disappear around the corner before slamming her head face first on the desk. She prayed for a concussion or at least memory loss. 

Neither of those things occurred though. 

But what did was a fan coordinated celebration that consisted of balloons and cake and gift baskets and a coffee truck set up behind their offices with Bohyun’s face plastered all over it. The news that he had landed the leading role in his first movie was official and everyone was happy. He’d earned his success. Even if there was no doubt people claiming it had something to do with his high profile relationship— they all knew back in the office just how much work he had put into his career. Bohyun rarely rested, going from one project to the next after wrapping. He was constantly invited onto variety shows and wasn’t the type to ever say no. 

The coffee truck drew many fans during the day but at night when things had quieted down, they could steal away downstairs and grab some drinks before it closed. They were amused by it all. Even the cups had his face on it, each one displaying one of his many roles. It was easy to see the thought and care that had gone into the gift. 

Elena wasn’t really one for coffee but she couldn’t pass up a cup with his face on it either. But as fate had it, as she rounded the corner towards the truck, she spotted two very familiar silhouettes stood in front of the truck. She could spot them from a mile away. They looked exactly like the candids she’d scoured online and suddenly her stomach wanted to cave in on itself. It figured the one time she pretended to like coffee he would show up with his girlfriend. 

She ducked back behind the corner and peeked out from the wall, she doubted they’d seen her. He was probably showing off the sweet gesture from his fans, not that she could hear them from where she was, but she could infer. The smaller form was dressed in a long dark coat and her hair was pulled back and even under the dim light, Elena knew she was beautiful. Half the globe knew that already. She couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Her crush had always been a dumb notion to begin with, immature and silly in its conception. He wasn’t even her type. All mainstream and broad shoulders— she liked rough edges and nicotine stained fingers. The two forms drew closer, a long arm winding around a tiny back, and that’s when she knew. 

The next few weeks were spent job hunting. This had always been a temporary gig in her mind, a crazy opportunity, and one she’d always be grateful for. Elena knew she wasn’t cut out for this business, but it had been fun while it lasted, and she’d met some of the best people she could ever ask for. Her original intent was to look for something out of show business entirely but the lead staffer recommended her to a producer friend of hers instead. He often worked on the sets of variety shows and the older woman had noticed how transfixed Elena had been whenever they’d end up on one. With praise she felt unworthy of, the producer offered her a place on his crew and the entire thing was bittersweet. 

She handed in her two weeks notice with the condition no one was told. When her unnie (she was the youngest, they all had her calling them unnie) asked if it had to do with Bohyun, Elena balked and couldn’t hide the feelings on her face. She was kind about it, told her it was all a part of being young, and made her swear to visit. She swore. 

For some reason or another, her last two weeks involved frequent sightings of the actor. He was preparing for his film and constantly in and out of the offices for meetings and what looked to be rehearsals. He was the type to bring his script in and read it whenever he had a moment to himself. She found herself walking in on him hunched over the script in his seat or stood in a corner lost in his own world, mouthing back words to himself. She liked his focused expression best. He was unguarded like this. Mouth soft, gaze preoccupied. It certainly didn’t help the feeling in her chest but what was the harm in memorizing a little bit? 

On her last day she begged them not to throw a party, especially not in the office, which she only managed by agreeing to celebratory drinks after work which was really code for getting drunk and crying into her peach soju because she’d miss her unnies. 

“See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah, see you... don’t overwork yourself. I can see your eyebags from here, you know.” It’s been a few months and she’s hunkered down in the back office of the studio, thumbing through the stunts planned for the rest of the week. She didn’t have the final say, obviously not, but her opinion had some stock and she liked knowing what to expect for the next series of shoots. Working on a show was entirely different from working for an actor, there was a stability to knowing she’d be in the same studio day in and day out. She couldn’t tell if that was better yet. 

Elena didn’t mind being one of the last people left behind, it was quiet this way, and she could muffle her thoughts with the ticking of the clock on the wall and the electrical boops and beeps filtering in from across the hall. 

“Do they not say goodbye where you’re from?”

She’d know that voice from a mile away at any timbre. The sort of voice she hadn’t heard in person for quite some time now. But she could hear it on television and had it wash over her only just last week in the movie theatre. This time it was riddled in what almost sounded like disappointment and her breath stalled in her throat. 

“…no.” Elena hated how sheepish she sounded. A tremor of shame. 

There’s a long and suffocating silence that allows her to fully take in the man that looks exactly the same from the last time she’d seen him. He’s suddenly stood in the doorway, like in one of her ill timed dreams, he must’ve just gotten off work, it’s a public space, and the studio’s known to share with other other shows and chances are he's just finished another appearance promoting his new film. But what does it matter?

The last time had been two months back in fact, on her last day at the office (he didn’t know that), he joined in step with her on the way to the cafeteria and asked if he could eat with her. It had been some time. As if she’d say no. Especially not on that day of all days.

She dreaded being alone with him those days, struggling to keep from mentioning the obvious, the elephant in the room. But by the time they’d filled their trays and found a table outside with the umbrellas, some of the familiar ease had returned. He spoke to her in Japanese, while she replied in Korean (they both needed the practice), and she considered telling him the truth, reveal that she was leaving— but he laughed like a boy who had caught his first fish at her badly recited Korean pun, and she couldn’t risk ruining it. 

“Are you happy?” The question felt like lightning in the present day and she shrugged, the tears she’d tried to blink back suddenly falling. Incriminating. The silence expanded like a balloon. 

“….are you?” She finally whispered. He shrugged too. 

“It’s funny what we can get used to. I keep walking around corners thinking I’ll see you.”

“….must be a relief when you don’t.”

“If only.”

If only encompassed too much and took up the entirety of the inside of her chest and he must’ve noticed because he crossed the rest of the distance between them and knelt beside the desk. A large hand suddenly swamped the left of her cheek. Her face really. She wondered if he could feel her heartbeat through her skin. 

“If only I'd seen it.” She shook her head, definitive, well aware that if she were to speak she’d sob. “If only you’d told me you were leaving. Why was I the last to know? Why was everyone wary about telling me you’d quit the next day like they were walking on eggshells?” She didn't want to look him in the eyes but there was no helping it and emotions swam in his dark gaze that she wondered if they were reflected in her own. Regret coloured his tongue. 

“I didn’t think you’d notice if I was gone.” His brows furrowed in disbelief and she was just impressed with herself for getting it together long enough she managed to croak out the words. 

“Elena-yah.” Two months since the last time she heard that. It almost sounded like admonishing but his fingers grazed the skin beneath her mouth, hand still cradling her cheek, and every actress she’d envied before was now her. “May I?”

“…But you’re…”

“Not anymore. It’s a secret.” 

“…if only.” She echoed. Their timing was the worst. It almost made her want to laugh but instead she watched him near through her swimming gaze and the warm slide of his lips on hers popped the balloon in her chest. She could taste the salt of her tears which meant he could too but they kept kissing. 

And that was all it remained. A bittersweet kiss tinged in salt that thrummed of hello and goodbye. She knew better than to hope for the impossible. He was a star on the steady path of global fame and she was lucky enough to afford rent most months. There was no future in people like them making it together, even if she could still feel the ghost of his breath when he'd flicker across her television screen or she'd hear whispers in the hallways of his appearance as a special guest.

Part of her heart had broken off and gone with him that day but Elena didn't regret it. She wanted Bohyun to keep it, whether or not he knew it was even there. Her happiness for him was genuine, even when the guy she'd gone on a third date with let it slip that he was his favourite actor and asked if she'd ever met him. The way Elena saw it, he was just another one of those actors she heard about from time to time through the grapevine, and everything she had heard was good.

No one else in the world would know about their kiss and the if only sealed away between them. Some things were better off kept behind half closed office doors.

[onlyseokmins]

Seokmin strikes me as the type to ENJOY how big is he compared to you n just takes advantage of that

I mean YEAH if he's into me, his demonic gf, constantly biting his arms and hanging off of them at any given moment (which I'm here to tell you happens all the time [real]) then I'm SURE he does 😒

[opelaastraa]

[cheshitora]

woke up thinking abt fresh out of prison tora who's been touch starved for the past 10 years so he blushes and gets hard at every little touch and kiss you give him. he gets a little embarrassed every time it happens so you just have to kiss his cheek and tell him its okay because he needs and deserves all the love and reassurance in the world :((

[anothermonikan]

Gone from 'I kinda wanna kiss ReRe but that'd be weird we're just like work buddies, they do so much for me and I wanna show my appreciation but idrk how, it's frustrating!' to. Hehe goodnight kissys <3

[askshivanulegacy]

^^^

This is a last-minute, mad scramble to haphazardly achieve an uncoordinated mess.

Why are we doing this? Because a random person decided they wanted it? Do they even know anything about the logistics and strategy and planning? Or are they just saying words and people have put them up onto a pedestal and rush to fulfill them?

"The goal is to disrupt." Disrupt WHAT? And HOW?

Real strikes and real boycotts work because appropriate levers have been identified to achieve specific, linked results.

Let's say you don't show up to work at your random workplace. You cost your workplace money! What does your workplace do now? Do you expect it to cry to the government that they lost money because the government hasn't shut down Israel? Do you expect the workplace will articulate that political connection to losing money as the thing that needs resolving, or will they find a new worker because it's the workforce that needs resolving?

Does anyone think that if workplaces weathered COVID for months, they can weather a week?

You may be able to put on a week of pressure, but are you able to sustain it for months like real strikes have done? If you can't (and you can't), what real leverage do you have? You don't have the same leverage as real strikers do.

Who has this been communicated to? Has it gone out to major newspapers? TV? Are there real organizations championing it and getting buy-in and support and community action? Or is it just Joe Blow chronic online blogger? Joe Blow who apologizes for having to work and buy food, who has no reason to apologize, and is probably too young and immature to understand what is required to be successful in something like this? But by golly they'll go about feeling guilty about not being able to fully participate in something that was unplanned and disorganized anyway. For no reason.

I'll be glad if anything useful is achieved by this. But does anyone even have a way to measure it? Will random journalist Bisan ever get a real status report or are they just hearing a lot of social media support blab, which is full of air and no substance?

For those of you who actually really want to achieve something: hit the books and hit the streets. You need to link up with real organizations and you need those organizations to link up with each other. And you need them to plan. And protest. And march. And march on capitols. And you need real news organizations to cover it. And you need to get off social media.

Like it or not, without moving efforts into the real world on an organizational and NOT individual (or even workplace level), all of this??? Is just performative. You're doing it to feel good about yourself as a participant rather than doing the real, hard work of achieving results.

And I hope you achieve something.

BISAN HAS CALLED FOR A GLOBAL STRIKE

January 21-28th

[taegularities]

Hi,Rid.

How are you,honey?

girl, dying

[peacheeeliz]

CASUAL

SYNOPSIS ⤏ when wooyoung, mr. "scared of commitment," finds himself catching feelings for you, his supposed friend with benefits, he struggles between keeping things casual or possibly ruining your friendship.

PARING ⤏ nonidol! wooyoung x fem reader

GENRE ⤏ smau, a handful of written chapters, rom-com, angst, established situationship, fwb to lovers, commitment issues wooyoung falls hard for reader

FEATURING ⤏ ateez, minho & hyunjin from skz, renjun from nct, karina from aespa, and ryujin from itzy

FACECLAIM ⤏ faceclaim for y/n purely for picture purposes!! (@ ggwonnaa on ig)

WARNINGS ⤏ no smut, but heavily nsfw/suggestive (they are so horny i fear), swearing, kms/kys & nsfw jokes, pls ignore timestamps 💔

PLAYLIST ⤏ casual, chappell roan | blind eyes red, minnie | selfish waltz, ateez | one more night, maroon 5 | party monster, the weeknd | heartbeat, childish gambino | meddle about, chase atlantic | after hours, the weeknd | les, childish gambino | commitment issues, tiffany day

STARTED ⤏ 4/24/2025

STATUS ⤏ complete ♡

NOTE ⤏ just thought i'd tease it before i disappear again 😭😭 this one is gonna take awhile to come out as i'm gonna be busy with school work for the next few weeks, but i will set aside time to work on it in my free time!!

PROFILES & CHAPTERS

hot mess express | pirate's melody

prologue. yes u horny freak

001. thunder storm (545 wc)

002. bros before hoes

003. the m word

004. PREGAME!!!

005. imagine being this down bad

006. 99z line

007. "i'll think about it"

008. ew

009. oh that sounded real bratty

010. well duh

011. need some me time

012. woo?? have FEELINGS?

013. i should be happy for her

014. skill issue

015. WOOF

016. sough rex

017. jung wooyoung (865 wc)

018. we need to talk

019. cara mia <3

020. I'VE GOT THIS

021. stay away from me (757 wc)

022. pirate's melody's princess

023. not that i care

024. still not forgiven (791 wc)

025. BEYONCE?

026. we do care :(

027. gatekeeping kitkats

028. u troglodyte

029. all-paid trip to japan

030. no lmao

031. fivesome..

032. i didn't know where else to go (469 wc)

033. you should know this too (846 wc)

034. hypothetical advances

035. she wants me so bad

036. u have no idea

037. under pressure (743 wc)

038. please (885 wc)

039. why does it ache

040. maybe a little biting (796 wc)

041. i have a choi san

042. BBY PLS

043. full time simp

044. boyfriend

045. public service announcement

046. a rockstar and his number one fan

☆©peacheeeliz, 2025

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is closed!

[xmoriartea]

SVSSS!Sibling Transmigration AU

Based so very loosely on this glorious art by @nibbelraz

Airplane transmigrates into the youngest infant son of the Shang family (and God damn he deserves better than this System he is their god!! Daddy Airplane?? Heard of him?? These people should not be changing his damn diaper hello??)

Shang Qinghua is already a young disciple when he visits home and meets his little brother for the first time and does no one else see there is something... off about this kid?

He makes regular trips home afterwards, eventually using An Ding logistics to find reasons to be near his hometown more frequently (and really does no one else see this kid is weird?)

Bby!Airplane is just too smart. SQH is convinced he saw the kid make eye contact with him once when he caught him stealing a dumpling behind their mother's back and it was like looking into the eyes of a demon who'd gut him if he snitched and not a human toddler

It doesn't get better as Airplane gets older and SQH hears him muttering about 1. things he shouldn't know at all regarding the sect when he thinks SQH isn't listening and 2. absolute nonsense (what System has done you so wrong didi?? you are four??)

Before Airplane is old enough to reasonably join the sect, SQH brings him back to the mountain anyway. He is fairly certain his brother is a seer and if that's the case, he's keeping the little welp close at hand

Airplane infinitely regrets how much bullshit he made An Ding deal with to ""hand wave lazy writing"" (shut up peerless cucumber!! he was writing porn not project management!!) but even just watching SQH run himself ragged over the peak has bby him exhausted (no wonder he ratted y'all out to the king yeesh)

He spends his early years as a disciple just following SQH and sometimes nudging his gege into record shattering discoveries because SQH will pat his head when he realizes and take him down the mountain for noodles afterwards (gg easy)

Airplane is a proper disciple in his own right in his teens when his notes and his story get jumbled in a way that has him tripping into one of his shixiongs when he hears the rumors - Head Disciple SJ returned to the mountain with a little brother (record screech glass shattering huh???)

Meanwhile, Shen Yuan transmigrated into Shen Jiu's unnamed younger half-brother After finding stability at the sect, Shen Jiu looks into his birth mother, knowing she sold him off when he was a child What he finds in Airplane's unwritten notes is a Fantine-Cosette backstory where his mother, a courtesan, gave him away to a good family after he was born. She sent them regular payments to ensure his care, but only found out when she was pregnant with SY that they had sold SJ off and were pocketing her money Unable to find SJ and unwilling to risk SY, she and the other courtesans raised SY within the brothel SY transmigrates into the body of a child at his sick mother's bedside with a twisted sense of deja vu having just vacated his own deathbed He doesn't know where he is, but if the orphan protagonist can make it to the sect, so can he right? (Transmigrator Halo? System? System why are you laughing??) He's barely into his second teens when SJ finds him. It takes no time at all after learning the truth for SJ to demand SY's guardianship and whisk him back to Qing Ding (See System? He DOES have a Transmigrator Halo, even if it is attached to the scum villain) SY is honestly shocked by how concerned(?) SJ is when packing his meager possessions. (No Jiu-ge (ew) no one has ever harmed him or touched him wtf would make you think they had?? He's baby??) It takes some time for glaciers to melt and for SJ to let SY in, but SY was raised around kind jiejies who taught him to be better than their worst clients and SJ feels safe around this little brat in a way he can't explain (SJ has had SY for five minutes but if anything happens to him SJ is taking out the entire mountain and then himself) YQY has NO idea how to react when SJ first returns with his brother, but he doesn't hesitate to smooth the way for SY's discipleship and watches from afar as SJ begins to finally let someone in, even if it's not him

SQH keeps telling Airplane he needs to work on his muttering to himself, that it's going to get him in trouble (bro you don't even know) but for once it's in his favor because SY overhears him just enough while YQY is sorting his shit out on arrival and suddenly they're just two spidermen pointing at each other on the peak

Cue the shenanigans of two hometown boys who have no bearing on the plot at all and are just along for the ride while their siblings handle the peaks. Anytime Qing Ding and An Ding need to work together on missions, these two volunteer and confuse the hell out of their martial siblings every step of the way

SJ does not trust the little logistics rat anywhere near his didi and glowers like an alley cat anytime Airplane is around (SQH is right, ofc. His brother IS weird and SJ does not trust it)

SQH meanwhile takes note of his weird didi's sudden and first friendship with SY and immediately starts keeping tabs on this kid because clearly Airplane's seerhood has steered him to SY for a reason, must keep note

The first time LQG makes any sort of fuss about SJ going to a brothel, SY forgets everything he's learned at the sect as Little Brother Mode™ activates to defend not only SJ but his jiejies too. (Fists are thrown. Hair is pulled. He might have bitten his shixiong, he can't say. He sort of blacked out for a minute there) Needless to say there isn't a second time and LQG has an hour long argument with his shizun about trying to poach SY for Bai Zhan peak while nursing a black eye (Airplane just side eying the GREMLIN that transmigrated here like bro wtf)

Before LBH even steps foot on the mountain, both their Systems ping about the incoming protagonist and it's not that they, you know, forgot about the story but they were distracted. Between finding each other and actually weirdly coming to care for these NPCs they... lost track of time

But the System pings and LBH enters the scene and SY refuses to let Airplane's work repeat itself (we're making your notes canon bro stfu and follow my lead. (what lead??? what plan??) I'm working on it!!)

It's a 50/50 crap shoot if SYs favoritism of bby!Binghe endears him to SJ or spikes up the resentment, but SY refuses to let harm come to LBH or for SJ to become the scum villain (someone is yelling, it might be SJ, it might be SY, it might be Binghe who doesn't want Shizun and Shixiong fighting over him)

On the other side of the plot, SQH is still a little snitch, even with his didi's visions guiding him to unprecedented success - but it's more than betraying the sect, more than wanting power and recognition. Seers are insanely powerful, highly sought after. Bringing Airplane to the sect protected him for awhile but SQH can't let him become a target. So when the OG meets MBJ, all his calculations come to a single unfortunate answer: throw your lot in with the biggest fish to protect Airplane (no one else can understand how weird his brother is because if they do his brother will end up dead)

Flash forward to when Airplane is squinting at his brother wearing fur collars year round, always running a little bit chilly for unknown reasons but refusing to see MQF about it. Airplane insists on SQH letting him check his meridians if he won't see MQF and SQH relents, puts his wrist in Airplane's hand, and squawks like a goddamn chicken when Airplane yanks his arm and tugs down his collar to reveal the mark of MBJ on his collarbone and SQH is once again met with that dead eyed 'bro do not fuck with me' stare

SQH does not question how Airplane knows, he just insists on Airplane staying far far away from MBJ (he might work for the demon, but he certainly does not trust him)

Of course Airplane defies all reason and knows the exact secret rendezvous point SQH uses (he did not suffer puberty twice to be denied seeing his most precious creation in the flesh, gege) and is spotted spying on the spy almost instantly by MBJ who is just holding him by his scruff and looking between a wide eyed Airplane and a barely-restrained-panicked peak lord like 'why oh why are there two of them'

Cue a full stand off between a demon and peak lord, ice knives at SQH's throat, a blade hovering at MBJ's heart, and Airplane just held like a kitten between them like fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck that SOMEHOW ends with MBJ rationalizing 'ah this weird mouse is important to my viper of a spy - if I want to keep the viper loyal, I will protect this mouse'

Which throws the Sheng brothers into a mess that neither of them know how to deal with. SQH thinks he needs to continue to be excessively useful to keep Airplane safe. Airplane can't let MBJ know he's his brother's best source or the demon might cut out the middle man. (Meanwhile somewhere MBJ just out here planning to court this weird little mouse to tie SQH's loyalties to him)

Whatever circumstances causes the Abyss plotline to trigger, SY 500% throws himself in after Binghe leaving SJ partially feral because his didi is in danger, Airplane CONCERNED, and SQH just casually like 'oh that's why my brother was interested in him, interesting' not at all realizing no, SY is likely just about to become his boss(-brother-in-law)'s boss's consort - whoops! whoops! whoops!

[itoshiierae]

Hii I’m so glad you’re taking requests bc I literally love ur writing sm omg but I was wondering if you could write about blue lock boys finding out about their girlfriend’s celebrity crush and getting jealous ? (Ness , sae, rin, kaiser) ^^

bllk boys getting jealous of your celeb crush

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

ᡣ𐭩 ft: alexis ness, sae itoshi, rin itoshi, michael kaiser x f!reader

ᡣ𐭩 notes: omg anon you had no right being this real with that request. celebrity crush?? jealousy?? drama??? this was basically begging to be written HAHAH. tysm for the love bby ilyyy hope you enjoy the chaos!!! <33

✮ ALEXIS NESS ✮

he finds out when he glances over and sees your phone wallpaper — not even scandalous, just a candid red carpet pic of your celeb crush. and without thinking, you go, “ugh, he’s so perfect.” ness gasps. like. ACTUALLY gasps then places a hand on his chest like you just betrayed your entire relationship and whispers, “you’ve known me for years and you never looked at me like that?? am i just your second choice now…?” he’s 75% joking, 25% spiraling — already staring at his reflection like a heartbroken lead in a k-drama, muttering things like

“maybe i should grow my hair out”

“do i need to start wearing more suits??”

you have to grab his face and tell him he’s cuter. your real celeb crush, your favorite boy. he melts instantly. clings to you like a needy cat, head tucked into your shoulder, voice muffled and shameless when he whispers, “say it again. no, seriously — say it one more time.”

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

✮ SAE ITOSHI ✮

hears about your celebrity crush mid-scroll when you sigh and go, “he’s so hot oh my god,” and all he gives you is a flat, unimpressed “okay.” nothing else. doesn’t look up, doesn’t blink — just sits there in deadpan silence for a full five minutes until he randomly mutters, “he’s overrated.” and from there it spirals. suddenly he’s critiquing the guy’s acting, fashion, jawline, and entire existence like he’s on a judging panel he never signed up for.

he swears he’s not jealous. but later that night, when you’re in bed and he’s holding you a little tighter than usual — arms wrapped around your waist like he’s scared you’ll disappear — it clicks. you lean in, lips brushing the corner of his jaw, and whisper, “you’re still my favorite.” he doesn’t answer. just exhales. slow. and laces his fingers through yours like that’s all he needed to hear.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

✮ RIN ITOSHI ✮

you mention your celebrity crush so casually — something innocent like “he’s totally my type” — and rin freezes. doesn’t move. doesn’t blink. just stares ahead like you handed him a breakup letter mid-match. you don’t even realize the shift until the silence drags.“..what?” you ask. nothing. just rin, sulking in high-definition. he mutters eventually, “i just don’t get it. what do you even like about him?” voice flat. tight.

he starts scrolling through his phone with more aggression than necessary, thumbs tapping like the app personally wronged him. you end up crawling into his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, whispering, “you’re the one i want, rin.” he exhales. finally… face buried in your neck, voice muffled and stubborn when he says, “don’t talk about him again.” and yeah… you don’t. mostly because it’s kind of hot when he gets like this.

──★ ˙🧷 ̟ !!

✮ MICHAEL KAISER ✮

you’re watching an interview and casually mutter, “ugh, he’s sooo attractive,” like it’s no big deal. but that’s all it takes. kaiser snatches the remote without warning, pauses the video mid-frame, and narrows his eyes at the screen like he’s preparing to file a lawsuit. “..you mean this guy?” suddenly he’s scrolling through google images like he’s in a forensic lab, judging every photo with brutal, surgical precision.

“his jawline’s not even that sharp.”

“he wears THAT to interviews?”

“my hair’s better.”

and just to prove it, he pulls up a selfie of himself and starts comparing side profiles like he’s submitting evidence in court. he’s cocky about it — smug grin, head tilted — but you can tell he’s riled beneath the surface. because next thing you know, his arms are wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you into his lap, lips brushing your ear. “you don’t need a celebrity crush when you’ve got me,” he murmurs, voice low, dangerous, possessive. so you test him. “maybe he has better hair.” kaiser pauses. smirks. grabs your chin with that annoyingly gentle grip and leans in until your noses touch. “say that again, ..liebling. i dare you.”

© itoshiierae 2025 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ please do not modify or repost my content onto any other platforms.

[lewisvinga]

sleepy girl chronicles | lando norris x fem! reader

summary; in which half of lando.jpg’s posts is just his sleepy girlfriend ( in the most random places )

fc; various girls on pinterest

warnings; suggestive comment, cursing

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; requested ! wasn’t sure if this was meant to be smau or written so i just did smau :)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, lilymhe, and others !

lando.jpg: the most normal places y/n has been found sleeping in

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: LANDO NORRRIS??

yourusername: FUCK YOUUU😭😭

landonorris: you already did last night how do u think i got the last picture ??

georgerussell63: ENOUGHHHHHHH

yourusername: omg i don’t sleep that often do i??

landonorris: well….

username: LANDOS REPLY???😭😭

username: she’s so real 4 that tho🚶‍♀️

username: the eye mask and teddy bear she’s js like me fr

lilymhe: my sweet angel gorgeous bby taking naps👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

yourusername: wanna be my pillow 😼

lilymhe: is the sky blue? YES

landonorris: don’t take MY pillow away from me, back off lily 🤺🤺

alex_albon: back off from my gf🤺🤺

username: oh to sleep on an lv pillow w an lv blanket 😞

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, and others !

lando.jpg: the sleepy girl chronicles pt. ( i lost track ); y/n falling asleep on max’s couch and less than an hour later is found in his guest room w jimmy, also fell asleep at dinner ??

tagged; yourusername

yourusername: i am just a girl😞😞

landonorris: a sleepy one

yourusername: jimmy💓

landonorris: no, lando 💓

yourusername: no way ur jealous of a cat lando

landonorris: why is he hogging MY woman😒

username: LMAOAOSKAKS

username: stoppp the cat pic is adorable

maxverstappen1: so that’s where jimmy went that night….

yourusername: he’s a sweet boy😞😞💞

landonorris: i don’t have claws and i don’t bite im sweeter

yourusername: LANDOANSKSS

username: anemic girlies rise ✊

username: the picture of her sleeping at a restaurant sends meee😭😭

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

liked by landonorris, lilymhe, and others !

yourusername: sleepy girl chronicles but it’s lando being grumpy i had to wake him up before qualifying + lando getting caught trying to take a nap after making fun of me for napping😁😁😁

tagged; landonorris

landonorris: sue me 🙄 you make naps look comfy especially on the plane🫤

yourusername: then stop making fun of me😞

landonorris: not my fault u sleep at any chance you get no matter where 😔

landonorris: ‘lately i feel like this’ u feel like that all the time now c’mere

yourusername: OMWWWWW

username: why does he look so grumpy i😭😭

username: it’s tough being a sleepy girl in this wrld 😞😞😞

username: the last pic 😭 i just know he laughed so hard at being caught that he teared up🤣

lilymhe: but ur the best sleepy girl

yourusername: ur the best girl

landonorris: too bad she’s going to nap on me rn

alex_albon: ??!!2@;928:&

username: sleepy girl chronicles goes on!!!

[dannyriccsystem]

HI ZIZI (Cani call u that????) ITS ME AGAIN!

I NEED A FIC ABOUT MY BBY ྀིྀ BOY ྀིྀི OLLIE ྀིྀི

Where there’s like a big size difference and a year age and since he just turned 20 it can be about birthday fun (wink wink) (😏)

OKAY LOVE UR STUFF

Buy bye

IT’S YO BIRTHDAY SO I KNOW YOU WANT TO RIDE OUT!

FORMULA ONE DRIVER X READER

SUMMARY: Birthday sex for the birthday boy 👀

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: Smut, P in V, frosting play if you really squint, just kidding you don’t have to squint it’s obvious, sex on the counter. they get freakay on the b-day.

FEATURING: Oliver Bearman x Reader

NOTE: MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOW MEOWWWW. I don’t know what’s up with me I think I’m ovulating y’all

AND YES! You can call me whateva….. Z isn’t even an official name I just gave it to myself so you guys would have SOMETHING to call me. Z for Zone…. My real name starts with D but I fear I don’t want you guys calling me that 😩

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY OLLIE,” YOU GRINNED as you slid the knife into the cake, cutting the small delicacy in half. It was one of those small cakes you can buy from the grocery store, fit for just the two of you. Of course you lit the candles for him, sang the song—the whole nine yards, but after the traditional ceremonies, it was finally time to enjoy.

“Thank you my sweet,” Ollie giggled, pressing a cheeky little kiss to your lips. He took a fork, shoving it into the spongy texture of the cake. Vanilla with raspberry filling, just like he loved. Ollie brought the fork up to your lips, his mouth falling agape. “Ahh.”

You mimicked him, letting your mouth fall open. He pushed the small bite of cake into your mouth, watching with an intense gaze as your pretty lips wrapped around the metal of the fork, tongue darting out to wipe away some of the frosting that coated the surface of your mouth. He reached out without even thinking about it, his thumb brushing against you to wipe the remaining crumbs away.

“There you go,” He whispered, his eyes locking with yours as he muttered, “good girl.”

The heat pooled between your legs instantly. You swore your knees almost buckled—if the circumstances were different, you surely would have collapsed right into his arms then and there. He didn’t even seem to take note of the effect his words had on you, he just stared at you so innocently as you finished chewing.

But now the atmosphere was different, because all you wanted was to rip his clothes off and have him take you right there. That was the proper gift after all. He ate the cake himself.

You shared another kiss, initiated by you. Oliver’s tongue darted out to swipe away some of the remaining frosting, humming at the sweet taste. When he pulled away, you pulled him back in. You could feel your own lips swelling up as he gently nipped at them, giggling into the passionate make out.

“Happy birthday,” You muttered against him. He grinned, pulling back to push his forehead against yours. Your eyes locked, his hands on your waist.

“Thank you, pretty girl.” Ollie kissed you again, his muscled hands lifting you onto the counter, sitting right beside the cake. You giggled, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further. But before things could progress, he pulled back. “Y/N, are you sure?”

“Huh?” You tilted your head.

“Are you sure? Last time it barely fit…” He recounted the tale with slight embarrassment, his cheeks lightly flushed. It was true, he had pushed just the tip in, only to figure out that alone was enough to completely stretched your poor pussy out. The guy was fucking huge, and he didn’t even realize. He just assumed you were small.

“Yes,” You nodded shyly at the memory. Ollie laughed as he slid your pretty dress up, his eyes widening.

“No panties? This must be my present.” He ran his middle finger over your folds, pushing your back to the counter. You whined, squirming as he pushed one finger in and immediately slid it back out. “So wet, too…”

He slowly unzipped his pants, taking his time to free his cock. It was monstrous, both girthy and long. He carefully slid the mushroom-shaped tip in, groaning just at that. He began, slowly thrusting just his tip in and out with gentle whines.

“Ollie,” He stopped at your instruction, staring down at the pretty sight of you. “It’s your birthday… Use all of me.” He looked to you for assurance, and when you nodded, he slowly pushed himself as far in as he could. You leaned back, gripping the edge of the counter for support.

He shuddered, his eyes shut tight as he held onto your legs. Ollie hunched over you, his face pressed into your neck.

“I want this off,” He muttered, slowly shifting his hips whilst pawing at your dress. You shifted around, and he pulled down the zipper on the back. With both of you working to do so, you slid the dress off over your head. He reached over, scooping up some of the whipped frosting from the cake, wiping it onto your right nipple.

Before you could question what he was doing, he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the bud, his tongue licking the frosting clean off. All while his cock pounded you. He had started off so gentle, but as time progressed, Ollie began using you like you were his personal fuck toy.

“It’s so fucking tight,” He whimpered, his whole body jerking as he hunched over you, his hips moving like he wasn’t in control of them. Sweat beaded at his forehead, dripping down onto you. You pulled him down, your lips meeting in a steamy kiss. Ollie grabbed your thighs, spreading them further apart. The tip of his cock was hitting your deepest points, practically brushing against your womb. “Shit, Y/N…”

“Yeah,” You held the back of his neck with one hand. The other was resting back against the counter to keep yourself propped up. “Feel good? You like fucking my pussy?” He groaned at your words, burying his warm cheeks into your neck to hide the embarrassment. You lightly tugged on his soft curls, and he whimpered again.

“Yes,” He whined, pinning your hips down so he could really go at it. His cock pistoned in and out of you, balls slapping against your skin. “So fucking good. Best present- Ah, fuck… Ever…”

“I’m coming Ollie,” You spoke, your voice an octave higher. “I’m gonna come on your cock.”

He nodded, biting his lip. “Yes, fuck yes…” Your walls squeezed him as your orgasm washed over you. He continued thrusting, helping you ride out the sensation.

He went to pull out, but your shaky legs wrapped around his waist to lock him in. You pulled him deeper in, and he groaned as his cock twitched, spitting out its cum deep inside you. You whined, head thrown back as you laid across the counter.

“Shit,” He cursed as he slowly pulled out. He watched his cum spill from your folds onto the counter. You just giggled, struggling to keep your eyes opened.

“It’s okay,” You muttered, your tone absolutely fucked out. “I’m on the pill. Think of it as another gift.”

He stared at your hole with a curious gaze, pushing down on your tummy to make it spill out even more. You definitely didn’t have to tell him twice.

He carefully scooped your limp body up, and when you wrapped your legs around him, you could tell his excitement wasn’t quite over.

Looks like you had a long night ahead of you.

[andvys]

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter ten

⭐︎ Turn me into something tragic, just for you, I let it happen

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, insecurities, jealousy, mentions of past stancy, mentions of cheating, mentions of heartbreak and unrequited feelings. post apocalypse au, grumpy x sunshine

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of the drinking game leaves you feeling angry and bitter, and the others confused when you greet everyone with a cold shoulder -- showing a side of you they didn't know you had.

Word count: 12.7k

Author's note: I'm back from vacation and I wrote this in like two days! This and the next chapter are ones I've been excited for the most to write! And me and @hellfire--cult can't wait for y'all to read this hehe. Roe helped a lot with this one, especially with all the dialogues! And also thank you for beta reading and fixing my dumb mistakes bby

series masterlist ⭐︎ previous chapter

☀︎

For the first time in a while, you hate the way the sun shines into your face when you open your eyes this morning. You take deep breaths, glaring at the light. Your palm is pressed against the mattress beneath you. You know you should get up, but you don’t feel ready yet. Your head pounds a little, and your eyes feel sore. 

You barely slept last night. Too many thoughts kept you awake, along with all the revelations you got. 

For months, you had been traveling with them, and no one bothered to tell you of Steve and Nancy’s history. Of what they once were. Of how friendship wasn’t the only thing between them. And you know that maybe it shouldn’t matter, maybe it’s not that big of a deal, maybe it’s not even of importance anymore. He did say that it was only high school love, and high school was years ago. But it still rubs you the wrong way that they didn’t mention it once, especially Steve. He told you of what that girlfriend of his did to him, of how she hurt him, cheated on him, and dumped him to be with someone else. Why didn’t he tell you then that it was her? 

Now you can’t help but feel anger and a sliver of resentment towards her for what she did to him. Even if it doesn’t matter to him now, it mattered to him then. Even if he doesn’t love her now, he loved her then, puppy love or not. She broke his heart. And it pains you to know that he suffered because of her. 

Now they are friends, and he can act like nothing ever happened. How? You don’t understand. 

Nancy’s confession led you to wake up with anger in your heart this morning. 

You turn around and face the rest of the RV. It’s empty. Eddie and Nancy probably left to check out the nearby town, leaving Steve out there by himself. 

You’re not sure if you are ready to face him after your conversation with him in the RV last night. After what he said to you. 

Steve’s confession led you to wake up with sadness in your soul. 

You wish you had known sooner. 

You wish you had known sooner about them and about being a goddamn placeholder for the best friend he lost.

If you knew, maybe you could have saved yourself at least. 

With a sigh, you push yourself up. You don’t hurry out of the RV this morning like usual, desperate for a cup of coffee – even if you are, you aren’t ready to look into his stupidly gorgeous eyes. 

You take your time getting dressed and brushing your teeth in the tiny bathroom. This is a luxury you didn’t have when you traveled alone. You didn’t always have a bathroom. You sometimes traveled for days without finding a roof to sleep under. You brushed your teeth using a water bottle to rinse your mouth with. You washed your hair and your body in lakes. If you were lucky, you found houses with water tanks that allowed you to take showers… even if only cold ones, but you were just glad to be able to properly clean yourself. 

You are content here, but you also can’t wait to get home and find comfort again. After last night, you want nothing more than a warm bath, the stew and homemade bread that your dad always makes, a big hug from your mom, and your brother’s stupid attempt to make you laugh. 

You miss them. You miss them more than anything today. 

You stare at your reflection in the mirror as you braid your hair. You hate how puffy your eyes look today and how those circles under them are darker than usual. You look so different from how you used to look before the world changed. The lack of food is seen on your body nowadays. 

You reach for the hair tie around your wrist, not the lilac colored one he gave to you. Now you wonder why he gave it to you. You know it’s Robin’s. You had a hunch, and now you know. 

A huff falls from your lips, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at yourself for getting your hopes up once more, let alone in a world like this. Of course, he had a reason to give you a chance, to like you. He wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t gotten something out of it… right? Why else did he change his mind about you so quickly after getting out of Hawkins? It wasn’t only guilt, it was something else too. 

You put your jacket on and zip it up, and eye the yellow colored scarf on the couch. You want to leave it there so badly. The bitterness inside you is strong… though not strong enough for you to not put it on. 

You don’t notice the way Steve’s eyes light up when you open the door and step outside into the cold. He is standing in the snow with one hand on his hip and a mug in his other hand. The smell of coffee and snow mixes together. The pot is still steaming, your mug is waiting for you on the small table you used for cooking last night. 

“Good morning, Sunshine.” Steve smiles at you, eying the scarf around your neck. 

“Morning.” You mumble, unable to even try and sound more cheerful. 

Steve furrows his eyebrows, his smile fading a bit as he takes in the look on your face. The circles under your eyes, the sad but also… angry look on your face. It’s concerning to see you like this – the only time he saw that facial expression and heard that tone in your voice was when you all just hit the road, after he had snapped at you in front of Robin’s grave. 

“For someone who didn’t drink, you sure do look hungover.” Steve attempts to make you chuckle, though all he gets is a half hearted smile. A weird feeling settles in his chest at that. “Coffee…?” 

He searches for your eyes, for your smile. But you hide from him, looking down as you make your way down the stairs. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve nods and sets his mug down. He grabs your mug and pours the coffee in. He prepares it for you, how you like it – way too goddamn sweet. He stirs it so the sugar dissolves. 

“Here,” he says, looking back up at you, stepping towards you to hand you the coffee.

You take it from his hands, forcing a smile onto your face as you glance at him. You try to ignore the way your heart skips a beat over the way he looks down at you, over the way he put three teaspoons of sugar into your coffee… just how you like it, over the way his touch feels when his fingers brush against yours. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as you wrap both hands around the warm mug. You retreat and break eye contact, missing the way his face falls as worry takes over. 

You sit down on the way too cold camping chair. You take a look around as you take a sip. 

Steve picks up his mug again and makes his way to your side, not hesitating to pull his chair closer and sit down beside you. He turns to face you, not even hiding his stare. 

You said four words. Only four words. You start rambling the moment you smell the coffee in the air. You are never this quiet. Never. You are just looking at the field ahead of you, drinking your coffee in silence. 

“Sunshine, is everything okay?” He doesn’t hesitate to ask. “You’re not feeling sick again, are you?” 

Guilt fills your chest at the worry in his voice. But warmth spreads through you as well, knowing that he noticed. 

You shake your head and slowly turn to face him. “I’m okay, just tired… that’s all.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows. You were the first to go to sleep last night and the last to wake up this morning. After the conversation he had with you inside the RV, you got tired and went to sleep. 

“But you slept for 8 hours,” he mumbles as he reaches over to you, placing his palm against your forehead to check if the fever came back, but your temperature feels fine. 

You lean back, avoiding his touch. “I said I’m okay.” You grumble, taking him aback. 

Steve’s eyes flash with hurt. His brows sinking lower. The pang in his chest surprises him too, making his stomach dropa little. Not good. 

You make the mistake of looking at him, and you instantly tense up. Guilt settles inside of you. The hurt look in his eyes causes your tension to disappear. The urge to apologize grows inside you right away. 

His doe eyes gaze into yours, his lips curling into a frown. His shoulders slump, and he retreats a little. In this moment right here, he resembles a goddamn puppy.

Steve Harrington looks like a puppy. 

A sigh falls from your lips as you tilt your head to the side. 

“I-I’m sorry… I just… didn't sleep that well and now I have a headache.” It’s not exactly a lie. You’re just not telling him the reason for it. 

“Oh…” He frowns. “Do you need anything? Tylenol? Or do you want me to make you some breakfast? I can make oatmeal. We got cinnamon and brown sugar now.” He shrugs. 

You shake your head, smiling a little. “No, I’m fine… I promise. Maybe later.”

Steve nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. 

“The sun is up!” Eddie grins as he spots you next to Steve. 

Your head snaps towards him. You were too distracted to hear his footsteps… or hers.

“Morning, Sweets.” 

“Morning.”

Eddie notices the tone in your voice right away, the lack of a smile confusing him. He draws back in surprise, tilting his head at you.e’s about to open his mouth to ask if you’re okay, but Nancy beats him to it.

“Are you okay?” The brunette asks, concerned as she makes her way over to you. 

You can’t help but feel tense. A sour taste appears on your tongue, not even the bittersweet coffee cannot kill that taste. 

Steve notices the way you clench your jaw at the sound of her voice, the way your eyes flash with something he can’t read, something he’s never seen on you before. It surprises him. 

Your lip twitches, curling into a plastered smile. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You mumble, and before any of them can ask or say anything else, you turn on your heel and make your way back into the RV, catching them all off guard when you slam the door, leaving them all confused and stunned. 

They had never seen you in a bad mood. They had never seen you angry. You had never behaved that way before. They didn’t even know you had it in you. 

Eddie raises his eyebrows, his eyes widen. He slowly turns to face Steve after staring at the door for a while. The former jock looks just as confused but also… he looks like a kicked and tossed aside puppy. His lips are curled into a pout, his hazel eyes etched with sadness. 

Nancy turns around, nearly giving herself a whiplash by how fast she does it. 

“What happened?” She frowns. “Did you say something to her?”

Steve frowns at the accusing tone in her voice. Eddie notices it right away. 

“What? No! She just woke up, didn’t even say two sentences to me,” he mumbles as he looks down into his coffee cup. A bad feeling rises in his chest. A mixture of sadness and concern was flushing through him. 

Was it something he said…? Was it something he did? Was it about last night? It can’t be right? You were fine when he went after you to talk, when he explained that he doesn’t feel for Nancy anymore. You were okay, you even shared your KitKat with him before you went to bed. 

“Maybe she’s just… maybe she is just having a bad day,” Steve mumbles, hoping that it is that. “She’s allowed to have a bad day.” He grumbles, feeling protective. He’s had plenty of bad days, and you always gave him space, just like Nancy and Eddie had bad days, and you always respected that as well. 

“So give her the space that she needs.” He tells them, before he sits down on the camping chair behind him, glaring at the snow on the ground. 

You’re allowed to have a bad day. He repeats in his head and yet, he feels rejection coursing through him, not liking the coldness he received from you. 

Though it turns out to be more than just a bad day. 

If it were just that, you would keep to yourself, avoid everyone, and do your thing, but instead, you huff and puff at everything and everyone except for Eddie. Eddie seems to be the one spared by your cold shoulder, even when you grumble in response to his questions, you still talk to him. 

And Steve feels offended by it, when he notices how you still talk to Eddie while you avoid him and behave weirdly towards him, he can’t help but feel a weird ache in his chest. It confuses him and it makes him feel sad. 

He watches how you chat with Eddie when you wash dishes in the sink, and it leaves him with a bitter taste on his tongue because when he carried those dishes to you, you didn’t say a single word to him, not one word. 

And it’s so unlike you. You always talk to him, you talk to him more than you do with Eddie or Nancy, which makes it so obvious that you have some kind of personal issue with him, and it slowly makes him experience an ache he hasn’t felt in so long. He feels anxious, but also… he feels something he didn’t even know he was still capable of feeling. And he doesn’t know what to think of it, he doesn’t know how to let the realization sink in, he is too scared of it. 

And Eddie, despite being the one spared by your odd behaviour, notices everything. He sees the way you roll your eyes at everything that Nancy says, the way you clench your jaw and stare at her bitterly, resentment flashing in your eyes. 

And Steve… Every time you look at him, your eyes flicker with hurt but also with anger and disbelief. One moment, you look like a kicked puppy around him; the next moment, you snap at him every time he offers a hand and tries to help you with whatever task you are doing. 

In return, he always draws back in shock before his face flashes with sadness and rejection. 

If this wasn’t so serious, if he didn’t look so hurt and you so angry, Eddie would have found it amusing, but this is all so unlike you. Even he can’t believe what he is seeing. 

Nobody confronts you about it. Nancy goes out of your way after receiving one too many eyerolls from you. And Steve, he is scared to even ask, scared to touch the ticking time bomb. 

But Eddie grows a little frustrated with you when the late afternoon rolls around and you are still being a snappy brat, acting completely out of character. 

“I can do this myself. Thank you.” You snap at the brunette you are usually following around like a duckling follows its mother.

Steve huffs at you, unable to hide his frustration this time but before he can even respond to you, you grab the basket of dirty clothes that he just took from your hands and stomp away, making your way down to the lake to wash them. 

“Sunshine!” Steve calls after you as he throws his hands up, watching you walk down the hill. He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling loudly before he curses under his breath. “What is her problem…” 

Eddie’s face flickers with sympathy. 

Who would have thought that your cold shoulder would be this… cold? 

He places his hand on his shoulder, giving him a tight lipped smile. 

“I don’t know what I did…” Steve murmurs, not hiding the vulnerability on his face. 

“You’re not the only one getting this treatment from her…” Eddie chuckles softly, shrugging. “I think she’s really just having a bad day.”

Steve shakes his head in return. 

“No. It’s gotta be something…” Steve mumbles as he furrows his eyebrows, trying to remember if it was something he said or did. “At first I thought it was because of Nance and I… she didn’t know that we used to be together, but we talked about it before she went to sleep and she was fine…”

Eddie winces at that, just like he did the night before when he saw how you reacted to that revelation. He knows you like Steve. He isn’t blind. It’s written all over your face every time you look at him, but Steve is clueless about it, painfully so. 

“Maybe it took some time to process that information…” Eddie shrugs.

“But why would she be mad at that…?” Steve frowns as he knits his eyebrows together strongly. 

Eddie almost wants to laugh. Yeah, that former playboy has got to be the most clueless guy in history. 

“Did you talk about something else with her…?” Eddie steers the topic away from his history with Nancy. 

Steve purses his lips as he looks down into the snow that is melting due to the warm sun. 

He shrugs as he brings his hand up to his hair again, running his fingers through it. 

“We just… I talked to her about Robin, about how lonely I felt after she died… before she came along.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah… I don’t know, maybe she’s just… missing her family.” 

Eddie nods. He slowly looks in the direction you have left. He now understands why you are acting this way. 

“Hey, listen, I’m gonna go talk to her and you get started on dinner, alright?” Eddie says, looking at his friend intently. “Bet she’s gonna be even worse if she doesn’t eat.” He chuckles, trying to make him smile. 

But Steve’s lip only twitches lightly. 

“Yeah… Okay.” Steve nods, hoping that a talk with Eddie might lift your mood – although he can’t help but feel a little hurt and sour if he does get through to you. 

Eddie pats his shoulder one more time before he walks away, following you to the lake. 

He squints his eyes as the sun shines brightly into his face. The warmth of it feels nice for a change, though. He hopes that it will get warmer from now on. The urge to throw his winter jacket off and away feels strong. 

Just like it does for you. 

You aren’t even wearing yours anymore. You ditched it next to the basket of dirty laundry. At least the pastel yellow scarf is still around your neck, along with a sweater that looks way too big on you. 

You are crouched before the lake, washing one of Steve’s t-shirts… angrily. 

Eddie clears his throat as he approaches you, making you freeze for a second before you continue. 

“Hey…” Eddie mumbles awkwardly as he stops beside you with his hands in his pockets. 

“Hey.” 

You don’t even look up at him. He can see that your jaw is clenched and that you are still huffing. 

Eddie can sense the death glare he is about to get from you, and a part of him feels nervous, even though he sees you as no threat at all. 

“Um… what’s going on?” He asks as he looks at the shirt you are washing in anger, the pink cleaning gloves shining brightly under the sun. 

“With what?” 

“You are acting angry.” Eddie retorts without missing a beat. 

“I’m not angry.” You lie. You are angry. You are hurt. And through the haze, you cannot see the impact it left on the three so far. 

"Yes, you are!” Eddie huffs as he crouches down beside you. “Did I– did we overstep with yesterday's game?” He asks, desperately wanting to know what had troubled you this much. 

“No, Eddie.” You grumble as you stop your task for a moment and turn to look at him. The concern in his eyes makes guilt rush through you. “I just woke up in a bad mood. Can’t I be in a bad mood every once in a while?” 

“I mean, yeah, you can,” he nods awkwardly. “It’s just weird to see… that’s all.” 

“Well, get the fuck used to it because that’s how human bodies work.” You roll your eyes before you look back into the cold water. 

Eddie clenches his jaw in annoyance. He feels a bit surprised by the attitude you continue to give him. 

“Okay, enough of this.” He finally grows frustrated. “What the fuck happened when you and Steve went to sleep last night? Did he do something he shouldn’t?”

You freeze. 

Growing flustered at the way he worded it, you can’t help but flush all over, which in return, leaves you feeling even angrier. 

You get up with the shirt in your hand and turn to face him, frowning. 

“No! He didn’t do anything! What does Steve have to do with anything?” You shrug at him. 

Eddie stands up as well, taking a step closer to you. 

“Because before going to bed you were completely fine, and today you are being a cunt!” 

Your jaw falls slack, your eyes flashing with disbelief as you frown angrier than you did all day. 

Eddie would have laughed at the expression on your face if this weren’t so serious. 

“A cunt!?” 

“Yeah! And I would like to know why!” He throws his hands up, growing frustrated with you. “I thought we were best friends, sweetheart! I thought we talk to each other when shit bothers you!” 

A flash of guilt rushes through you, and your angry expression fades for a second. Your shoulders slump as your cheeks heat up. 

The hurt is still there, burning stronger than before now. You look down into the grass that comes through the snow again. You take deep breaths and contemplate on how to open up, on how to say things without exposing too much, without exposing your feelings and the pain that you have felt since yesterday night. 

It all boiled up and you woke up in anger this morning. 

Steve and Nancy. Steve and Robin. 

It all reminded you of all your failed friendships and your failed relationship. It reminded you of all the moments you have spent playing the placeholder without knowing it, of all the one sided love you have had in the past, platonic and romantic. You thought it would be different this time. You felt that it would be different this time. 

But of course not, you were a fool once again. 

Even with him, Eddie. He called you a best friend when it isn’t the truth, maybe it is to you, but not to him. Nancy is his best friend, of course she is. They have known each other longer. You came along months, years after they had gotten this close. So, you can’t even be mad or hurt.

But it makes you feel bad. You know if a choice had to be made for whatever reason, it would never be you. Not to him, not to anyone. 

And it makes you feel worse to think of him. You thought that he could be the one, a best friend. You even ignored the part that wanted him as something more. You were happy to have him just like this. You were so lost in the delusion that you didn’t realize that you were nothing but a reminder of her, someone he could play pretend with. 

Why else would he have risked his life for you? 

He didn’t want to lose you because he would lose her a second time. 

Tears build up in your eyes as it all comes through you once more. You don’t want him to see, and you don’t want to cry in front of him, so you keep your eyes on the ground. 

“I just found out stuff that I think I should have known a while ago… I’ve been traveling with you for months, and I just now found out that Nancy was the girl that was with Steve…? That she was the girl who cheated on him?” You ask, swallowing the sour taste on your tongue. 

It all clicks in his head. 

“So… this is all because of jealousy?” 

You snap your head up, glaring at him. 

“Jealousy!?” You shriek, causing him to rub his ears as he winces in pain. 

“No need for that screech, that fucking hurt–”

You throw the wet t-shirt at him, not giving him the time to react before it slams wetly against his chest and his chin, making him stumble back in surprise. 

“What the–”

You turn on your heel, abandoning the laundry and him as you stomp away in anger, not giving him any time to react to your sudden outburst. 

Eddie frowns in disgust as he looks at the wet shirt. He scrunches his face up, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks up. 

“Where are you going!?” 

You only flip him off in return after throwing those pink gloves on the ground, leaving him in shock yet again. 

“Jesus Christ…” He mumbles, shaking his head. 

He wants to go after you, but he knows that he will only make it worse. So, as Steve had told him before, he gives you space. Though he can’t help but feel concerned as you walk further away from him. 

He looks up at the hill, preparing for the anger on Steve’s face when he comes back without you. 

-

You need space. You need a moment to yourself, a moment to breathe. You needed to escape. Ever since you were a kid, every time you had gotten into a conflict or felt hurt because of something, you stormed away, escaping into the sunflower field behind your house or any flower field you could find in reach. It always calmed you down, it always gave you comfort, to be surrounded by nature, to be by yourself, even if just for a moment. 

You found no flower field out here but you found a little clearing, a peaceful little place where you could find some alone time. But now that the anger you felt all day slowly began to fade, the guilt started slipping in for how you treated everyone – even if you are still hurt about absolutely everything. 

You are picking at the lilac hair tie, frowning at it. 

You will never be her. 

And you will never be as special to him as she was to him. 

You will never be anything more than a replacement. 

And you are pretty sure that even as that, you are still easily replaceable, no matter how much you remind him of her. 

Your eyes burn once again, and the feeling in your chest that had been suffocating you since last night becomes worse. 

You hate to admit that this hurts you more than any of your past friendship breakups. These people, these three random people that you would have never run into if it wasn’t for the end of the world, have stolen your heart and creeped their way into it so quickly, becoming so important to you that you would do anything for them. 

You wonder if they’d do the same… just for you and not because you remind them of anyone. 

“Sunshine.”

His soft voice doesn’t even startle you, but you still flinch. 

You can feel his eyes on you. 

“I’ve looked for you everywhere.” He states. 

You can hear the concern in his voice along with a hint of anger. 

You take a deep breath before you tilt your head up to look at him. He is standing a few feet away from you. Worry and confusion are written all over his face. He is frowning at you, holding your jacket in his hand that you abandoned when you escaped from Eddie after throwing the wet shirt at him – you will have to apologize… 

“Well, here I am.” You grumble, feeling bitter all over when you look into the hazel eyes you have come to adore so much. 

Steve clenches his jaw at the tone in your voice. He looks down at you, how you sit against the tree, snapping the hair tie against your wrist. Your face is still tense, still bothered. 

“Are you trying to get sick again?” He grumbles as he makes his way over to you, handing you the jacket. 

He halts before your feet, his boots knocking against yours. You look up at him through your lashes. You breathe in, and he expects nothing less than another huff from you. 

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, nodding his jaw at your jacket, urging you to take it. 

“I’m not cold–”

“Put the damn jacket on, Sunshine.” He demands, the frustration clear in his voice. 

You push yourself up, patting the back of your legs to remove any dirt you might have sat on. Bitterness curses through your veins to feel him so close, to feel his eyes on you, to feel his anger. 

“I think I can take care of myself, Steve.” You grumble in response as you grab the jacket from his hand and make your way past him. 

Steve feels a pang in his chest. He hoped that you had calmed down, that you would talk to him now about whatever is bothering you, but you are clearly still not in the mood. 

“Can you? Because you dropped everything and stomped away like a bratty child.” He mumbles in irritation. 

You are not telling anyone what’s your problem and instead of talking about it, you threw a wet shirt at Eddie – which honestly made Steve feel a little satisfied, knowing that you got mad at him too. 

You turn around to face him, frowning at his question. A mixture of emotions ripples through you, anger and hurt. That one word goes through your head like a broken record since last night, and it just got louder. Immature, immature, immature. That’s what he thinks of you. That’s what everyone thinks of you. And it bothers you, it hurts you but it especially hurts to know that this is how he feels about you. 

You want to laugh for letting yourself fall for him, for thinking that he could see you as something other than this. 

“Well, I don’t need anyone checking on me or looking after me,” you snap back as you point at your chest. “I wanted space, I wanted a fucking moment to myself but none of you respect me! I’m not a goddamn puppy and I’m not a child! I can handle my own – in case you don’t remember, I was on my own for a whole year!” 

Steve draws back at your outburst. He lowers his head as guilt rushes through him. Though the guilt isn’t enough to mend the frustration in him. 

He clenches his jaw, looking at you intensely as he places his hands on his hips. 

“Don’t do that, Sunshine. We respect you, you know that.” He says through gritted teeth as your anger seems to infect him as well. “But clearly you don’t respect us.” 

Your eyes widen, and your lips part. 

“Excuse me?” You tilt your head to the side, challenging him. 

He takes a step closer to you, not realizing just how much of your personal space he is invading and how his eyes flicker to your parted lips. 

“You heard me.” He mumbles as he now towers over you. “If you respected us, you would have told us– you would have told me what’s bothering you. I thought we were friends, I thought you and I… could talk about anything to each other.” 

‘You and I’. You hate the way your heart flutters at that, like it means anything to him, like it’s something. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands itching to reach out to you, to grab your hands, to hold them like he did before. Instead, he clenches his fists to hold himself back. 

You gulp, swallowing the lump in your throat. You hesitate as you look into his eyes. The truth lies on the tip of your tongue, but you are too afraid to speak it out loud, to tell him how much it hurt you to find out about him and Nancy, about Robin. 

“Nothing is bothering me, I’m just having a bad day.” You lie through gritted teeth. 

He can see right through you. Your left eye twitches when you lie. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Steve warns you, glaring into your eyes. “We both know that’s bullshit.” 

“It’s not.” You clench your jaw, gripping your jacket tighter. 

“Tell me the truth.” Steve demands, growing restless and impatient. 

It’s not only his anger that shines through his eyes, it’s the desperation. And if you weren’t so blinded by your insecurities, you would see how much it kills him to receive this cold shoulder from you, you would see just how much he cares, that this is why he wants to know. Because he wants to fix it, because he wants to be there for you, to make it better. 

“Or what?” You glare at him, anger and sadness mixing, resulting in an explosion. “You’re gonna call me an immature little girl again? Tell me that my family is dead?” You ask as tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t help but hate yourself for that, for wanting to cry when you want to look brave. 

“Don’t do this now…” He begs as his eyes fill with guilt. 

But you are not done. 

“Tell me that I remind you of your best friend? That this was the only reason why you even gave me a chance…? Because you saw her in me? … And now I’m a placeholder to you and a joke to everyone else?” 

Steve feels like a bucket of ice cold water was dumped over his head. His eyes widen, and he draws back, staring at you, bewildered. His heart drops to his stomach, his chest aching when he takes in the tears in your eyes and the hurt written across your face now that the anger was finally put into words. 

The tension and the anger in him melting right off. His shoulders slump, and his eyes soften and fill with sadness. The guilt in him is worsening now. This is what you think? This is what you feel?

You were never that. There was not a single moment where he thought that about you, where he saw you as a replacement, where he thought of you as a placeholder to Robin. He didn’t realize how wrongly his words came across and the impact they left on you. 

He knows of your past, of the failed friendships, of the shitty first boyfriend you had. How they all made you feel. How they only needed you when no one else was around, how you were the last choice without realizing it, how you kept playing the placeholder for everyone you saw as a close friend or even a best friend. He was so angry at all of them when you opened up to him, and now he led you to believe that he felt just the same as they did about you. 

Steve watches the way a tear slips down your cheek, and he wants nothing more than to wipe it away and pull you into his arms, apologize for how much he hurt you with that wrong impression he left on you. 

“Sunshine…” Steve whispers as his hazel eyes soften at the sight of your sadness. 

Though you don’t give him the chance to explain himself. You don’t need him to lie to make you feel better, and you need no sympathy. You wipe your tears in anger and turn on your heel, walking away… again. 

You can hear the frustrated sigh that falls from his lips as he says your name softly. 

“Wait… please don’t do this,” he murmurs behind you as his footsteps echo. He follows you, contemplating reaching out to you, to grab your hand and pull you back to him, to make you listen, to put it through that thick head of yours that you are not a placeholder, that you could never be one, never. 

“It’s okay, Steve. I get it now.” You mumble, your voice still filled with bitterness. 

Frustration builds up in him again. You won’t listen, not so easily. 

Steve rushes up to you, grasping your upper arm gently, he stops you and turns you back around, forcing you to face him again. 

Your glassy eyes meet his, and you don’t hesitate to open your mouth again, but he beats you to it. 

“Listen to me, Sunshine.” 

But you don’t. You don’t listen to him. Your ears pick up a different sound, one that you can’t make out so well. You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head to the side. For a moment, all your troubled emotions flee away. 

“You were never–” Steve pauses when he takes in the change of your expression, when he notices the concentration in your eyes. 

“What is it…?” He frowns in concern as he begins to look around you both, realizing that he let his guard down, that he didn’t bother to look around and make sure that nothing was creeping up on the two of you. 

“Do you hear that?” You whisper as you take in the struggling sound of someone, something. 

Steve instantly reaches for the gun in his belt, but you stop him. You place your hand on his and shake your head at him. 

“No… just listen…” You whisper as you blink your tears away. 

He can’t look away from that, from the tears in your eyes and the pain he had caused without meaning to. 

You furrow your brows deeper as you look around. 

It sounds like a whine, a pained whimper coming from somewhere close. You turn towards it, hesitating for just a second before you move. 

Steve can’t even react as you turn around and escape his touch.  You start running, making your way towards those sounds, ready to jump straight into danger. 

“Sunshine!” He whispers, not wasting a second to follow you as you further make your way into the forest. “You don’t know what’s out there, you can’t just–”

But you don’t listen. Of course you don’t. Instead, you pick up the pace, following the sound without hesitation. Moving past the trees and the bushes, making your way down the small hill that leads you to a small waterfall and a big stream that is moving fast. 

You halt in your tracks as you look around, and when you find the source of the sound, your eyes widen. 

Right there by the shore, there is a fallen tree lying in the water, broken branches sticking into every direction. You see the tiny paws holding onto it, the fur wet from the river. The tiny wolf cub is holding on for dear life, but the water is moving fast, too fast for a pup to save itself from it. 

You don’t waste any time jumping into action, ignoring Steve’s calls as you make your way down to the river. You throw your jacket on the ground and lean down to take off your boots, undoing your laces quickly. You never take your eyes off the cub, scared that the stream will take it. 

Steve halts in his tracks behind you after he catches up. He freezes when you throw your scarf and your sweatshirt off before your hands find their way to your belt, watching how you undress yourself before the water. 

“I– what…” He mumbles in confusion, not even noticing the cub in the water. “What the hell are you doing, Sunshine!?” 

“I��m not gonna let the cub die!” You cry out as you point at it. 

“I–” Steve’s words get caught in his throat when he notices the struggling wolf pup. His heart breaks at the sight before him, and he instantly jumps forward as well, ready to get into that icy water. 

The clinking of your belt brings his attention back to you. He stares in disbelief as you take your pants off, stripping down to your underwear. 

“Whoa, wait!” He holds his hands up, ignoring the way his cheeks flush at your bare skin, at the lace covering your skin. “The water is cold! You are still coming down from your cold – sunshine!” 

You stumble away before he can grab your arm and stop you. You dip your feet into the water, and you can’t help but wince at the coldness of it. Shivers rise up on your skin instantly, and you shudder strongly. You know this will hurt after. You know this might make you sick again, but you can’t bring yourself to think and worry about it now. 

Steve’s stomach drops as he watches you get in the water. He brings his hands up to his hair, clutching it anxiously as he clenches his jaw. 

You will be the death of him. 

He makes his way down to the shore, ready to jump in after you in case something happens. 

“I can’t believe you…” He mutters under his breath as he watches you anxiously. 

“Hey,” you whisper to the cub with a shivering voice as you take another step into the water, grateful for the tree for slowing down the stream on this spot. You just hope that it won’t get too deep, not wanting to get into the coldness with your whole body. 

The cub whimpers loudly which leads you to move faster, desperately wanting to save it. 

“I’m coming,” you whisper as you take another step, now standing knee deep inside of it. Your whole body is trembling by now. 

The water, this spot would’ve been a nice little place if it wasn’t so goddamn cold. 

Steve’s concerned face winces when he sees just how much you are shivering already. He wants to scold you, to grab you and yell at you for being so stupid. 

“Be careful.” 

Your hands touch the water when the next step nearly envelopes you fully. A gasp falls from your lips when the water touches your stomach. You need to move fast, and you need to get out of here quickly. The cub is in reach now, and you don’t waste any more time, taking a tiny step closer, you reach out to it, wrapping your hands around it, you pull it towards you, cupping the tiny animal against your chest. 

Steve watches intently as he takes his jacket off. A sigh of relief leaves his lips when you save the cub and start making your way out. 

The ends of your hair are wet, water dripping down your bare back. Your skin is covered in goosebumps. You are freezing. 

“I got you,” you whisper as you look down at it. Its paws cling to your bra straps, claws digging into your skin a little as it shivers and whimpers against you. “I got you… baby.” 

Steve’s stressed figure stands by the shore, his face is etched with nothing but desperation. The second you are in reach, he grabs your waist and pulls you outside, unable to hide the angry frown on his face as he turns you around, forcing you to face him again. 

Not even a minute in the water and your lips are purple and trembling. Your skin is ice cold. 

“You are crazy, Sunshine.” He grumbles as he wraps his jacket around your shivering body. And then… he wraps his arms around your body, enveloping you with his arms completely, pulling you into his warm embrace. He places his chin on the top of your head, holding you tightly as he rubs your back, trying to warm you up. “Absolutely crazy.” He mumbles and closes his eyes. 

You bury your face in his chest, melting into his touch with ease. You welcome his warmth and press yourself against him. The cub is between yours and his chest now, enveloped by warmth. 

“Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?” He says as he holds you tighter. 

You risked your life. You risked your life for an animal, knowing what it could lead to again. You are so good, too good for this world. And it fills him with fear because you jump into danger without thinking, not caring about yourself. 

And despite the concern it leaves him with, his heart flutters and warms at your action. You are so selfless and loving. 

You nod against him as your teeth clatter. You close your eyes and fall into him, embracing the warmth of his body. 

“I got you,” Steve whispers into your hair as he tightens his hold on you. “I got you, Sunshine.”

You breathe heavily against him, taking deep breaths. You search for his warmth, pressing yourself tighter against him and in return he pulls you even closer. 

“God… you’re so cold.” He whispers in concern as he continues to rub your arms and your back. 

The pup between you is shivering just as much, but it’s whines get quieter as it curls into your chest. 

“Can’t believe you did this.” Steve mumbles as he cups the back of your head. 

“Couldn’t let this baby drown,” you whisper against him as you press your head against the spot over his heart, unknowingly making it flutter. 

You don’t know how much time passes as you stand there in his embrace, but you find yourself wishing that you could stay like this forever. It feels nice to be in his arms, it feels safe and warm. Despite what happened before, you don’t want this moment to end. 

You know that this is nothing to him, that this is just a way of warming you up just like that night you spent in the car before you got sick. But your heart ignores your mind. 

But Steve, he doesn’t want to let you go. It feels nice, it feels right to hold you. His heart feels… alive. His skin is burning from where you’re touching him. Your scent, your touch, is driving him crazy. Your cold shoulder was driving him insane all day, making him sour yet sad. And now he suddenly feels calm. With you in his arms, he feels content, like there is nothing else in this world that he needs. Absolutely nothing. 

It’s at this moment that he realizes that he is screwed. 

His heart skips a beat when you lay your hand over it. 

Yeah, totally screwed. 

Your words from before echo in his head, filling him with dread and sadness, knowing how you felt all day, knowing why you behaved so coldly. 

Steve opens his eyes and he looks down at you, bringing his hands to your face, he cups your cheeks as he whispers your name, “can you look at me for a second?”

You hesitate for a moment, standing still for a few seconds before you look up at him.

He nearly feels his knees buckle from the vulnerability in your eyes. 

He briefly looks at the pup in your arms, watching the way it buries itself against you, feeling safe in your embrace. His heart warms at the sight. 

He keeps holding your cheeks, his eyes returning to gaze into yours. He takes a deep breath as he looks at you intensely. 

“Listen to me,” he whispers, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “You were never ever a placeholder, you were never a replacement for Robin or anyone else for that matter.”

Your eyebrows furrow as your lips pucker, “but…”

Steve shakes his head at you, “I never meant it like that when I said that you remind me of her. I never saw her in you. You are not some sort of ghost of Robin, Honey.” He promises, telling you nothing but the truth. “Your rambling reminded me of hers, that’s why it was so hard for me to be around you at first. Robin would talk my ear off about the most random things, you did that too and I just thought ‘god… these two together would be the death of me’ cause I know that she would have loved you.”

“Oh…” 

Steve can still see the insecurity flashing in your eyes, the way you struggle to believe him. And he so badly wants you to believe him, to trust him. 

These days, he struggles to be vulnerable, to show feelings, to let them in… but if that’s what he’s gotta do in order for you to believe him, then he will let his guard down for a moment. 

“But in no way were you ever a placeholder. I promise that I have never thought that of you. You are not Robin, and I don’t want you to be her. I like you, I like you for who you are. I like you for how you constantly hit me with the most random facts, for how you stay so hopeful and cheerful despite everything, for how kind you are despite this world, for jumping straight into ice cold water to save this cub.” His cheeks are flushed, and his stomach is filled with nerves. “And you’re not an immature little girl, Sunshine. You are probably the smartest, the strongest of us all. I admire you and for how this world hasn’t tainted you in the slightest.” He admits, feeling his heart race in his chest, and he also fuels it when he brings his hand higher up your face to brush away the stray hair that covers your eye. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, your cheeks burn beneath his touch. You don’t even feel the cold anymore, not even the sadness nor the anger from before.

Your heart races strongly in your chest, filling with hope yet again. The rejection, the disappointment that flushed through you before, just vanishes with ease. The look in his eyes makes you feel engulfed in nothing but warmth. The tension in your whole body disappears. 

Were you wrong after all? 

Did you misunderstand everything he said? 

Did the past really leave such an impact on you? 

“Y-You… You admire me?” Out of all the questions you could ask, this is the only one you can come up with. 

Steve’s lip twitches, curling into a small smile. His eyes soften as he continues to look into your eyes. He found his favorite color. 

“Yeah, we all do.” Steve nods. “In case you haven’t noticed.” 

You furrow your eyebrows, and you shake your head slightly. His hand never leaves your face. 

“Oh…” 

Steve’s heart aches a little at your question, at the vulnerability in your eyes, at the confusion because you don’t understand what could make you so admirable. 

You want to ask why, but you don’t, not knowing if you can keep the tears away right now. 

“I’m sorry for the way I worded things last night, for making you feel that way. I never meant to hurt you, and I never wanted you to feel like you’re some kind of replacement for my best friend. You are not and you never will be. She was special to me. You are too,” he admits, biting back his embarrassment as he gives you a glimpse of how he feels about you. 

Your eyes widen at his confession, and your heart jumps in joy.

You know… You know that this could mean something else again, that it might not be what you want it to be. That he means it platonically. She was special, but she was a best friend, there was only platonic love, nothing more, it could be like that with you. 

And yet, you want it to be more, you hope it to be more. 

Your lips part as you stare at him, as you gaze into the eyes you are falling for with no way of stopping it. Your eyes flicker to his lips, making his breath hitch in his throat, making his heart flutter and his cheeks flush. 

His eyes move from your own eyes to your lips, to the scar on your shoulder, and the softness of your neck. His hands itch to touch you more. 

The air between you changes, tension building, but not like before. This is different, this makes you both feel hot but not from anger, no, from something else. 

You are so beautiful, painfully so. He could look at you forever, and he’d only want to look at you more. 

Steve leans closer without realizing. Your breath hits his lips, and suddenly he has to fight the urge to close the gap between you. 

You blink as you gaze into his eyes. You stop breathing, the beating of your heart is so strong, you fear that he can feel it against his own chest. 

The energy between you is burning, the yearning so deep, so strong. It would only take for you to close the gap between you to feel his lips on your own. 

But you are afraid to make the first move, and he doesn’t make it either. 

Steve wonders what could have been if he had met you sooner. If somehow he would have found his way to New York and run into you in one of your favorite coffee shops or bakeries. He would have noticed you right away, he would have wasted no time to make a move on you, to ask you out. 

But he is not that guy anymore. He is not who he used to be. 

“We should get back to the others.” He blurts out. “We gotta get you warmed up better.”

Disappointment floods through you, but you nod, holding back your sigh. “Yeah…” You murmur and look down at the cub who got comfortable in your embrace. “Hold it for me?” 

“Yeah… Yeah of course.” Steve mumbles, clearing his throat as he avoids your eyes. He takes the cub from your hands, holding it gently as he brings it towards his chest. “Hey buddy.” He smiles at the furry baby, cupping the small head. 

You smile as you watch him. Your heart melts at the sight of the cub curling against him. 

You force your gaze away from him and turn to your clothes. You take his jacket off as you lean down to pick up your pants off the ground. You start to get dressed, unaware of the way his eyes find their way back to you. 

Steve can’t look away from the lace covering your skin or the way your hair falls down your back. it's gotten so much longer in the past few months. Your skin looks so soft, his hands itching to touch it so badly. He knows it would feel so good, so right to hold you, to feel you against him, to feel your bare skin against his. 

The whine coming from the cub in his arms pulls him out of his thoughts. He looks down, finding its dark eyes looking up at him. His cheeks flushed red when it dawns on him what he had just daydreamed about. 

He clears his throat, cursing at himself inwardly. 

“Okay…” You mumble as you turn back around, unfolding your scarf, you hold it against your chest. “Come here, I’ll wrap him… or her up.” 

Steve hums, still looking down, not wanting to expose his blushing cheeks. He steps towards you and hands you the cub, helping you wrap the scarf around it. 

“Hey, you’re fine, baby.” You giggle when it wiggles in your hands. 

Steve’s heart flutters at that sound. He looks at you, his lips curling as he watches the way you pull the cub against your chest, cradling it the way you would a baby. Oh boy. Something else inside of him stirs. 

“Come on…” You whisper to him. “Grab the jackets, please?” 

“Why didn’t you put on your jacket?” He frowns, only now realizing that you’re only in your sweater. He huffs as he picks up both jackets, he puts yours under his left arm and throws his own around you. 

“What—“

“I’m not cold right now.” And he likes the way it looks on you. He likes that your scent will stay on his jacket. 

“Now let’s go,” he mumbles as he places his hand on your back. “We need to get you both to the fire.”

“Yeah…” You nod as you start walking. “Do you think the mother is around?” 

Steve shrugs, looking around the forest surrounding the river. 

“If she was, she would have been here by now… maybe something happened, maybe she’s dead.” 

You frown at that, looking down sadly, “I hope not.”

“Yeah… c’mon.” He whispers, wrapping his arm around your shoulder — to give you warmth of course, for no other reason. His stomach flutters when you lean into him, no longer tense with anger or bitterness. 

You walk in silence. The tension between you is gone and your anger has faded away, but you feel guilty for how you treated him.

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” He looks down at you, noticing the troubled expression. 

“I’m sorry for how I treated you…” You apologize without hesitating. 

His heart warms at your apology, at the soft look in your eyes. 

“It’s okay, Honey.”

The pet name makes you blush strongly. You like that he calls you that.  

“I was mean…”

“I didn’t even know you had it in you,” Steve chuckles, patting your shoulder. “I can’t believe you threw a wet shirt at Eddie.” 

You wince at that, but Steve’s eyes glint with amusement, and he seems to be satisfied with your action. 

“You like that I did that, don’t you?” 

He nods, smirking, “yeah, actually.” 

You huff, but you can’t hold back your chuckle. 

The rest of the way back to the RV is spent in comfortable silence. You pass by the lake to find the basket of clothes gone. Nancy must have finished your task. 

The thought of her leaves you feeling guilty too. You’ve been horrible to her as well. And yet… a part of you still feels bitter to think of her, to know now that it was she who hurt Steve so much. 

You avert your eyes from her when you make it back. Her concerned expression is directed at you. 

“You’ve been away for so long!” Nancy says as she gets up from her camping chair. “Is everything okay?” 

Eddie turns around to face you, looking away from the pot he is stirring soup in. 

Steve nods at her, “yeah, we’re okay.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows when he notices the fur sticking out from behind the scarf you’re holding. 

“What… What do you have there!?” He asks, rushing towards you. His eyes widen when he sees the cub. “Holy shit! Is that a… a wolf!?” 

“What!?” Nancy gasps behind him. 

“A wolf pup, yeah.” You nod as you caress its little head. 

Steve’s eyes flicker back and forth between your face and the animal. 

“She jumped into the water to save it…” Steve explains. 

Eddie’s jaw drops, and he looks between you and the pup, impressed. 

Nancy’s eyes widen, and she makes his way over to you, concern is written all over her face. 

“Oh my god, are you crazy?” She exclaims, eying your body. She only now notices Steve’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders. “You just got better!” 

“I’m fine, Nancy…” You murmur softly. “Steve… gave me his jacket.” 

“But the water is freezing! You must still be cold!” 

The worry in her voice makes you feel even worse, making the guilt much more intense. 

“Come on, let’s sit by the fire!” She says as she wraps her arm around you, glancing at the pup who is looking around curiously. “Eddie cooked soup, I’ll get you a bowl in a sec.”

Eddie and Steve watch as Nancy takes care of you, wrapping a blanket around you before she fetches you a bowl of soup. You don’t look up at her once, keeping your head low and your eyes trained on the ground or at the pup in your arms. 

“So… is she still throwing shirts around or…?” Eddie mutters, narrowing his eyes at Steve. 

“No, we talked it out…”

“Oh?” Eddie raises his eyebrow, turning to face him, noticing the sadness in his eyes. 

“Yeah…” Steve whispers, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ll tell you more later but… she misunderstood some things I said. She was hurt.” 

“Oh…” Eddie whispers, looking back at you. You certainly look more relaxed than you did before; your expression is soft, and there is a soft smile on your face as you pet the pup. “Shit…”

“Yeah…” Steve whispers, looking back at you as well. “I think she’s okay now…”

You cradle the pup against your chest and lean back, wrapping the blanket tighter around you both. 

Both men watch you, smiles appearing on their faces. Eddie cannot help but blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Cute.”

Steve turns back to Eddie, his smile fading a bit. A weird pang spreading across his chest. 

Eddie smirks, chuckling at the expression on his friend’s face.

“Don’t worry, she’s all yours.” Eddie grins, bumping his shoulder with his own. “Look at the way she is holding that pup. Bet you’re thinking about putting some babies into her—“

“Dude!” Steve frowns, slapping his shoulder.

The metalhead winces in pain, holding his shoulder, “What’s it with you lovebirds and hitting me today!?” He yells in a whisper, frowning. 

“You deserved that!” Steve rolls his eyes as he makes his way to the RV. 

Though Steve didn’t question before why you hit Eddie in the first place, what he said to you for you to even do that. 

Did he tease you too? 

Did he make some sexual comments? 

Did he comment on your lack of experience?

Or did he tease you about him the way Eddie always teases him about you? 

“Are we keeping the pup?” Eddie calls out before Steve makes his way inside. “Guys?” 

-

Nancy feels your cold shoulder the most. While you talk to Steve and Eddie again, you still don’t even talk to her, only when you have to. 

It’s making the pit grow in her stomach. She wonders what she said or did wrong for you to feel such sudden resentment towards her. 

It’s been killing her all day, but even worse now that she witnessed you acting normal with the guys again. 

You have become a close friend in these past few months, if not her best friend. She never had someone like that again, not after Barb.

She felt hope when she met Robin, hoping to find a best friend in her, but it turned into something more. It was so very different with her. She fell in love with her, slowly but very deeply. The love suffocated her because, for the longest time, she believed it was one-sided, that the other girl could never feel that way about her. 

It turned out that she was wrong about it and that she had wasted too much time worrying. 

She wishes she had talked to her sooner, wishing she could have had more time with her. 

She won’t make these mistakes again, she won’t wait for the last moments. 

So when dinner is over and the night rolls around, she asks Steve to give her a moment with you, so she can talk to you. She didn’t even question him, knowing that you’ve talked to him about whatever troubled you all day. 

He agrees, not even hesitating to. He grabs all the dishes and forces Eddie to clean up with him in the RV, leaving her alone with you. 

It’s quiet between you, only the crackle of the fire surrounds you both. The pup is sleeping in your lap, engulfed by your warmth and your scarf, along with the blanket she wrapped around you before. 

Nancy takes a seat beside you, breathing in nervously. 

“Hey…” 

You stop caressing the pup, turning to face her slowly, you give her a tight lipped smile, “hey…” 

“Why are you so mad at me…?” Nancy asks, throwing it out. 

You tense at her question, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her. 

“I’m not.”

The frustration that’s been building up all day boils over, and she huffs at you. 

“Bullshit!” 

A frown appears on your face. You tense up further. You know all about how that ex-girlfriend of his called him that, hurt him with that. You could have never guessed it was her. 

“Is that the only word you know?” You snap, unable to hide your anger. 

Nancy looks taken aback, and it’s more than evident. Her lips part, and her eyes flash with confusion.

“I— what…? I-I use it a lot but… what’s your problem?” 

“My problem, Nancy? I’ve been traveling with you guys for months, months! And none of you bothered to tell me that you and Steve used to date. That you were the girl who cheated on him and dumped him!” 

The shock is written all over her face, along with the shame. She knits her eyebrows together, slowly shaking her head.

“I-I… that was so long ago, and it was meaningless—“

“How can you say that about him?” You ask in disbelief, feeling the anger burning hotly once again. 

The realization sinks in quickly. It never took her long to put two and two together. 

“I… Am I getting the signals wrong, or does it sound like you like Steve…?” She asks, careful to be quiet so Steve doesn’t hear in case he is listening. 

Your cheeks heat up, and you instantly avoid her eyes, giving yourself away. 

“I don’t… I respect him, but it sounds like you don’t! I bet… I bet he didn’t deserve what you did to him and yet…”

She cuts you off, shaking her head at you. 

“What happened between Steve and me in the past does not resemble who we are now. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you of our history, but we both moved on from it a long time ago. It doesn’t matter in this present time anymore. I… We both didn’t think of telling you because it truly doesn’t matter anymore.” She says, looking at you intensely.

Her words fill you with relief. He already told you that he felt nothing for her anymore, but you didn’t know where her feelings stood, even with her confession about Robin. 

“But why did you cheat on him…?” You ask, disappointed. “Why did you do that to him?”

She sighs, and her shoulders slump. She knows how awful it was, how wrong it was to do what she did. 

“I… there is no excuse for what I did. We were on a rough patch together, and I… I found comfort in someone else. I fell for someone else…” 

Jonathan. She told you about him before, you just never knew the start of their history. 

“That’s so wrong Nancy!” You frown. 

You know exactly what Steve felt like when she did that to him. 

“I know it was!” Nancy throws her hands up. The sudden tears in her eyes take you aback. 

“I know it fucking is! That’s why I was so afraid of telling Robin how I felt! Breaking up with Jonathan to immediately jump to someone else after I did the exact thing with Steve? I know about my reputation! And look at me now…” She whispers painfully as tears cascade down her cheeks. “I never told Robin that I loved her because I wanted to be sure, because I wanted to take time, because I didn’t want to move too fast the way I did with them… only for them both to be the wrong ones for me… I wanted to do right by her, and now it’s too late. And that is my biggest regret… more than anything else.” 

All your anger gets replaced by sadness, by guilt, and pity. You can’t and you don’t want to imagine what she must feel like after losing someone like her. 

Your own eyes well up with tears, and the urge to hug her, to hold her, and tell her that you’re sorry grows strong. 

With the cub on your lap, you move closer to her, careful not to drop it. You pull her into your arms, pulling her into your embrace. Nancy reciprocates the hug right away, wrapping her arms around you tightly as she continues to cry. 

You are a little surprised that she accepted the hug so quickly. She always came across as a little cold, someone who doesn’t seem fond of affection. But now you can’t help but wonder if you got her all wrong. And you also can’t help but wonder if this is the first time someone held her after Robin. 

You stay like this for a while, giving her the chance to say more but even after that confession, you know she isn’t quite ready yet, to talk more about her. 

“I’m so sorry, Nancy… I’m sorry about everything. I wish you could have told her, I wish you still had her.” You whisper, feeling the guilt consume you now. You close your eyes, holding her tighter as she melts against you. “I-I should have talked to you… I shouldn’t have just–”

“It’s fine,” she whispers, cutting you off. “You’re protective of Steve, so I get why you were so mad at me.” 

“I shouldn’t have been… I just… I wish I had known about you and Steve before I got those stupid feelings for him.” You blurt out without meaning to. 

Nancy draws back instantly, her blue eyes widen, and her jaw drops at your accidental confession. 

“Wait…” She whispers, glancing over at the RV to make sure that it’s still just you and her. “Feelings…? Oh… Oh my god! You like Steve–”

You jump forward and cup your hand over her mouth, shushing her as you grow flustered. 

You feel a sliver of regret for letting your mouth run, but another part of you feels relief, for letting them out, for having someone to talk about them now. 

Your cheeks are burning, and your ears are too. Your heart starts pounding against your ribcage. 

“Yes, I do…” You admit, blushing. “But… He doesn’t like girls like me…” Immature girls. He likes women. That’s what Nancy is. And even if he doesn’t feel anything for her anymore, he once did. 

The moment that happened between you two earlier. The hope that lives inside of you doesn’t matter here. You are always hopeful about everything. It doesn’t mean that you will get what you want. You rarely do. You just can’t bring yourself to stop hoping, no matter how many times you fall face first. 

“He likes girls like you…”

Nancy’s eyes soften at the vulnerability flashing across your features, at the way your shoulders slump in sadness, fearing that you have no chance with him. 

But now she gets it even more, why you behaved the way you did. You were jealous and insecure, comparing yourself with her, leading you to let that monster out. 

She can’t help but chuckle as she shakes her head at you. “No, he doesn’t.”

You roll your eyes at her. 

She says your name softly as she reaches for your hands in your lap. 

“He liked me in high school–”

“And after–”

“No, he didn’t.” Nancy shakes her head. “Trust me, he didn’t. We talked about it years ago, and we moved on from that as soon as we did. Now I can’t even imagine that we used to be together. It feels wrong to even think of that, and he feels the same. He truly feels the same.” She tries to put it through that thick head of yours. She takes a deep breath and opens her mouth again. “And that is gonna sound gross considering we used to date, but… You know what Steve feels like to me?” 

You raise your eyebrows at her, tilting your head to the side. 

She scrunches up her nose and her lips curl downwards in disgust, “he feels like a brother to me now, like an annoying older brother.”

“Oh…” You murmur, your facial expression matching her own. Pure Disgust. And though you can’t help but giggle. 

“I know it’s disgusting,” Nancy chuckles as her eyes light up at the crinkle in your eyes. “But that’s how I feel. It’s how he feels too.” She shrugs, holding your hands tighter. 

And it does calm you a little, but only a little. 

“That… doesn’t mean that he likes me back, though. In fact… I don’t think that I stand a chance.”

“What makes you say that?” She frowns, watching how you look down again. “What if you do have a chance…?”

You roll your eyes again, keeping your eyes trained on the pup. “He once called me insufferable… and I’m also inexperienced. There is nothing that someone like him could want in me.” 

“You think your inexperience makes you less attractive, less interesting or something?” Nancy mumbles in confusion, knitting her eyebrows at you. 

You shrug. 

“That’s… No.” She shakes her head, scoffing. “You are worrying too much about it… Besides, you should have seen the look on his face when you told us that you’re a virgin.”

Her words pique your interest. You haven’t really paid attention to him when you admitted that, you were too flustered to catch his reaction. 

You slowly look up at her, your eyes meeting hers again. 

“What look…?”

Nancy’s lip curls into a smirk, her eyes flashing with something you can’t read. 

“Well… first it was disbelief, like he couldn’t understand how someone like you hasn’t fucked ever before.”

You blush deeply.

“Someone like me?” You ask with a small voice. 

Nancy huffs at you, “In case nobody told you, you are hot – like super hot and you are gorgeous too. If you weren’t my best friend, I’d be all up on you.”

“Nancy!” You gasp, blushing even deeper at her words. 

She laughs loudly at the flustered look on your face. 

“It’s nothing but the truth!” 

You are giggling now, looking down with your burning cheeks. You pull the cub closer to you again, snuggling it against your chest. 

Nancy gives you a moment, though her eyes never leave your face and the smug smile doesn’t either. 

“Second, he looked like he was ready to change that for you… You know, that inexperienced part.” 

Nancy laughs loudly when your eyes widen and you try to hide behind your face, growing flustered more than you ever did before. 

“N-No he didn’t!” You squeal. Though you can’t deny the fact that her words stir something inside of you, that they don’t fill you with excitement and hope. 

Because even if you wouldn’t admit it out loud, you would love it if Steve was the one to be your first… and perhaps your last. 

“Oh but he did, sweetie,” Nancy giggles, unable to hide her grin, unable to stop teasing you after this. 

You stay outside, sitting beneath the stars and next to the fire with the wolf pup in your lap, unable to stop blushing but also giggling at Nancy’s teasing. For a moment, everything feels so normal, like you are hanging out with your best friend, talking and gushing over your crush. 

For a moment, you forget everything that happened today. 

For a moment, you let go again. 

For a moment everything feels… okay. 

Not knowing that tomorrow would change everything. 

If only you knew that your hands would be dripping with blood. 

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @pretentious-blonde @thecreelhouse @tvserie-s-world @thesickestqrmydcll @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections @sattlersquarry @sherrylyn0628 @purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles @micheledawn1975 @keepingitlokiii @littleromanoff2005 @sunshine-mrk @xxladymjxx

[pitlanepeach]

Radio Silence | Chapter Thirty-Five

Lando Norris x Amelia Brown (OFC)

Series Masterlist

Summary — Order is everything. Her habits aren’t quirks, they’re survival techniques. And only three people in the world have permission to touch her: Mom, Dad, Fernando.

Then Lando Norris happens.

One moment. One line crossed. No going back.

Warnings — Autistic!OFC, pregnancy, emetophobia warning, domestic fluff.

Notes — We're closing out the 2023 season!! Double update for the day!

2023 (Abu Dhabi)

The filming studio was chaos. Bright lights, Nerf guns, a beanbag chair someone had exploded accidentally, and Max F was in the corner trying to tape a foam sword back together.

Lando stood off to the side, hoodie hood up, sipping a smoothie and pretending to review a script while actually just taking a breather from the all-day mess.

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

He fished it out lazily, thumbed it open.

iMessage — 12:03pm

Amelia (Wifey 4 lifey)

My period is 3 weeks late.

—

He stared.

Then blinked. Read the words again.

And stood there frozen in the middle of the mess, smoothie halfway to his mouth.

“…What the f—”

“Bro, you good?” Aarav called from across the room, eyebrow raised.

Lando didn’t answer. He was busy rereading the message for a third time. Then a fourth. Slowly lowering the smoothie.

Missed period.

3 weeks.

Missed period for 3 weeks.

Period 3 weeks missed.

He let out a stunned, breathy laugh. “Oh fucking hell. Of course she’d just message me about it like it’s no big deal. Of course she did.”

The rest of the guys were still messing around in the background, arguing about whether they could build a kart ramp out of beanbags, and Lando just… walked backwards into a couch and sat down before his legs gave up on him.

Well, clearly she wasn’t freaking out. So that meant he wasn’t supposed to freak out. Cool. No problem. Cool, cool, super cool.

Except, he ran a hand through his hair. It was Amelia. If she was freaking out, she still probably wouldn’t say it. She’d just power through it all and not mention anything had even happened and then be like, “Oh yeah, by the way, our kid is three now.”

He shook his head.

iMessage — 12:05pm

Lando (Husband)

Ok. I’m not freaking out. Kind of want to throw up a bit tho. Love u x

He stared at the screen. Chewed the side of his thumb. Sent another.

Lando (Husband)

Did u like… pee on a stick yet????

Also should i come home. Or stay and keep filming the stupid cart bit. Idk what to do bby xxxx

Amelia (Wifey 4 lifey)

No, I have not peed on a stick. No, you do not need to come home. Finish filming. I will just see you when you come home x

—

He barely had time to process it before Max shouted, “Lando! You’re up!”

Lando slowly stood, still blinking, feeling kind of like he was buffering in real time.

“Mate, you look like you just saw a ghost,” Max added. “You alright, bro?”

Lando just looked at him, dazed. “No. I think I’m gonna be someone’s dad.”

Max’s eyes went fucking massive. “Woah, woah. Hold on. What—”

“Later. Can’t explain. Gotta pretend to joust on a kids scooter first.”

And off he went, hoodie flapping, brain somewhere over the Alps, while back in Monaco, his wife was casually engineering a race car and possibly incubating a human life like it was no big deal.

—

Amelia chewed on her bottom lip as she pulled up Pietra’s contact.

The screen blinked to life and there she was, chin propped on her hand, eating a bowl of cereal. Her blonde hair was pulled up in a lopsided bun, and she had one AirPod in, the other probably misplaced somewhere nearby. Her face lit up when she saw Amelia.

“Hello, gorgeous—wait, are you okay?" She asked, narrowing her eyes. “What’s wrong? You look off.”

Amelia didn’t say hello. She just held up her phone so the camera framed her blank expression and said, deadpan, “I am having déjà vu.”

Pietra blinked. Then squinted harder. “Wait… about what?”

“This call.” She said. “I think I’m pregnant.”

Pietra blinked again, cereal halfway to her mouth. “Você tá brincando.”

“I would never joke about this kind of thing.” Amelia said.

“Meu Deus.” Pietra gasped, dropping her spoon into the bowl with a dramatic clatter. “How? I mean—well, how is obvious, but—how do you know?”

Amelia turned her phone around, flashed her calendar at the screen. One day highlighted in red. Three weeks past due. “Calendar told on me.”

Pietra’s eyebrows shot up. “Three weeks? Amelia!”

Amelia sighed. “I know. But I’ve been so preoccupied with Vegas prep, travel, lobby meltdowns.”

“Oh my god.” Pietra was practically whispering now. “But… how likely is it?”

“Very. We haven’t been, like, trying,” Amelia said, voice clipped, efficient. “But we also haven’t been not trying. No protection for the last… few months. Ish.”

Pietra dragged her hand down her face. “Ameliaaaa. You can’t just drop a possible baby on me while I’m eating cornflakes!”

“I can and did.” Amelia adjusted the camera so it faced the ceiling, then sat cross-legged on the couch, phone balanced on her chest. This was their usual routine. She could write strategy notes with Pietra on FaceTime, no problem. Sometimes Pietra filled the air with stories, or whatever drama was happening in one of her many group chats. Sometimes she was just quiet, scrolling TikTok beside her. It was easy. Safe.

“Have you taken a test yet?” Pietra asked, after a beat.

“No.” Amelia’s voice was flat. “I don’t want to look at a little window. The little window makes things real.”

Pietra groaned. “It’s the only way to know!”

“I don’t want to know yet,” Amelia pointed out.

“I don’t trust you not to emotionally suppress this entire event and pretend it never happened.”

“Unfortunately not possible with this,” Amelia returned.

Pietra reached for the cereal again, shaking her head. “Have you told Lando?”

“I texted him. He’s in London filming Quadrant stuff, obviously. He freaked out a bit but, like, he was fine I think.”

Pietra cackled. “What did you even say?”

Amelia lifted her phone and scrolled briefly. “‘My period is three weeks late.’”

“Oh my god,” Pietra said. “You’ve probably given him a heart attack.”

“I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“He’s probably already told my Max, then. Are you telling anyone else?”

“No,” Amelia said, immediately and firmly. “I haven’t even processed it yet. And it might not even be something to process. It’d be like… trying to run a live feed before the camera boots.”

“Got it.” Pietra nodded. “Just us, then.”

“Just us,” Amelia echoed. She returned her focus to the spreadsheet open on her laptop. Sector delta charts glowed on the screen, comfortingly quantifiable.

Pietra softened. “But like—how are you?”

“I’m fine.” Amelia blinked slowly, as if running an internal diagnostic. “Not panicked. Not excited. Just... fine. Although thinking about it, I have been feeling nauseous a lot more frequently lately. I just kept putting it down to nerves you know?”

“Yes, I know. It’s been a long few weeks.” Pietra agreed. Eventually, she asked, “So. Plan?”

Amelia shrugged. “Go to the bakery and the pharmacy. Buy a bunch of pastries and three pregnancy tests.”

“And then?”

“And then I’m waiting for Lando. I’m not testing until he’s back.”

Pietra smiled, biting back something fond. “Of course not.”

They hung up not long after.

Amelia finished annotating a slide for Oscar’s sector exits in medium-speed corners, then shut her laptop with a soft click. She stood, pulled on one of Lando’s oversized hoodies, and grabbed her bag.

As she stepped out into the sunshine, she ran through her mental checklist:

Bakery

Pharmacy

Groceries

Don’t forget oat milk

Do not freak out

Business as usual.

—

The pharmacy was quiet, the sort of quiet that made every footstep sound louder than it should. Fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, and faint French pop music played from an old radio behind the counter.

Amelia moved with purpose, hoodie sleeves pulled halfway over her hands, the corners of her to-do list folded neatly in her pocket. She headed straight for the aisle where the pregnancy tests were shelved, eyes flicking over the boxes clinically. Brands didn’t matter. She just picked three, different ones, out of mild uncertainty more than logic, and turned on her heel toward the checkout.

Behind the counter sat Madame Duval, a tiny, silver-haired woman with thick glasses, a warm smile, and a knit cardigan that didn’t match her blouse but somehow made her look even more maternal.

“Bonjour, Amelia,” she said, her voice like soft wool. “C’est bon de vous voir.”

Amelia blinked. “Hi.”

She placed the boxes down without flinching. Madame Duval looked down, eyebrows twitching faintly. Then she smiled again, smaller this time. “Ah. I see.”

Amelia didn’t say anything. Just offered a shrug and a half-nod. She wasn’t embarrassed, exactly. It just felt… complicated.

“Would you like a bag?” Madame Duval asked gently. “One that is not see-through?”

“Yes please.”

She packed the boxes neatly, moving with the patience of someone who had known Amelia since she had first moved to Monaco. The first time she had come in for antihistamines, she’d asked in English and apologised for not speaking very clear French. Madame Duval had tutted at her gently and waved it off — “You’re young. You learn.”

She hadn’t expected Amelia to remember all of their conversations. But Amelia did. Down to which shelf the chamomile tea had been on that one rainy day when she came in, red-eyed and overstimulated, asking for something that “made bodies quiet.”

Now, only a couple of years later, the girl she’d watched grow into a woman, all sharp focus and clinical precision, stood with three pregnancy tests in her hand and a face like a still pond. Flat on the surface. Rippling just underneath.

Madame Duval placed a single wrapped chocolate on top of the box in the bag. The fancy kind they kept near the till. “For after. Whatever the result.”

Amelia blinked. “I didn’t—”

“Don’t argue,” Madame Duval said simply. “I know you very well, Amelia. You will enjoy your sweet treat.”

She accepted the bag and nodded, a single sharp dip of her head. “Merci.”

Madame Duval smiled again, knowing, warm. “Bonne chance, ma fille.”

Amelia didn’t translate the words in her head. She didn’t need to. They sank into her like the warmth of a blanket after a cold morning walk.

She left the pharmacy with the bag looped tightly around her wrist and walked the short distance back up the hill toward the apartment. The sea was visible between buildings, a thin slice of blue horizon. Everything smelled faintly of croissants and sunshine and exhaust fumes.

She checked her mental list:

Got the tests.

Got the pastries.

Got the groceries.

Back home, she set the bag down on the kitchen counter and grabbed her laptop.

The tests could wait until Lando was back.

For now, it was just another variable. Logged.

Pending analysis.

—

The door clicked softly behind Lando as he stepped into their Monaco apartment, duffle bag forgotten somewhere between the entrance and the bedroom.

The light was low, just the soft stretch of sunrise brushing over the walls, and Amelia was curled up on their bed in one of his hoodies, half-asleep, laptop still warm next to her leg.

She opened one eye when he crouched beside her. “Hi,” she murmured, voice heavy with sleep.

He didn’t answer right away. Just tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and held up a small paper bag like he’d just won a prize. “Get up, baby,” he said, gently.

Amelia blinked. “Seriously?”

He kissed her temple. “Come on. I need to know if my wife is growing a person.”

She groaned, dragging her hand over her face — but didn’t argue. Not really. She let him pull her upright with a sleepy grumble, let him tug her by the hand toward the bathroom, let him press the test into her hand.

They paused there for a second. Fingers brushing. Her gaze flicked up to meet his.

“You okay?” He asked, voice low now, a little more cautious.

“I’m fine,” she said. Then, with a characteristic deadpan mutter, “I’m tired.”

Lando gave her that crooked little grin, the one that always cracked something open in her. “Right. Go pee on it.”

She rolled her eyes and shut the door.

He sat cross-legged outside, back against the wall. Same way he had the first time she’d let him into her quieter corners; back when they were barely even dating and she couldn’t handle knocks on doors, loud voices, or sudden touches. Back when he learned to ask first and sit with her in the silence.

He waited now, quiet, patient, fingers tapping his knee.

The door creaked open.

She didn’t speak at first. Just stood there holding the test, staring at it.

Lando scrambled to his feet. “Amelia?”

She looked up at him. “It’s positive,” she said, voice soft. Like she wasn’t sure the words could be able to come out of her mouth properly.

Silence fell between them — not tense, not panicked. Just heavy.

She looked back down at the test. Then back at him. Her expression was unreadable for a second, and then… it cracked. Not big. Not loud. Just a subtle unraveling. A tremble in her mouth. Her eyes too bright, but dry.

“I thought I’d feel more in control,” she said quietly. “Like it would just slot into the system. Checklist. Contingency. Risk management.” She held up the test, eyes never leaving it. “But it’s not like that. It’s not a flowchart. It’s not a decision tree. It’s just… me. And you. And this. And I can’t logic my way through it.”

Lando took a slow step forward, voice hushed. “Is it a bad feeling?”

She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “It’s just… big.”

And then it happened — not a meltdown, not a scene, just her body folding into his with no warning. A silent collapse.

Hands clinging to the front of his hoodie, face buried against his chest, a single shuddering breath breaking out of her like she’d been holding it in for hours. No sobbing. No hysteria. Just quiet overwhelm — the kind that sneaks up and knocks the wind out of you.

Lando wrapped his arms around her instantly, no hesitation.

“Whoa, hey,” he murmured, steady as ever, his hand in her hair. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you, love. You’re okay. We’re okay. We’re going to be okay.”

She didn’t answer, just breathed — deep and shaky. Her fingers still clutched the test like a lifeline. Her knuckles were white.

“I’m scared,” she said after a long pause. The words were barely there. “What if I mess it up? What if I do something wrong? What if I’m not good enough to do this?”

Lando pulled back, just enough to look at her. His hands stayed on her waist, grounding her. “Hey,” he said gently, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. “Don’t do that. Don’t start doubting yourself now.”

Her eyes flicked away. “I’m not soft. I’m not warm. I don’t… glow. I forget social niceties, I spiral over things like flight plans and tyre temps and socks that don’t feel right. That’s not the kind of person who’s supposed to—” She swallowed. “I don’t know if I’m made for this.”

“Baby. You’re made for anything,” he said, firm now. “You’re made for me. And if our baby ends up anything like you, blunt, brilliant, weird in the best possible way, they’re going to be so lucky. And so am I.”

She let out a sound that was halfway between a breath and a laugh. Her shoulders sagged just a little. “We don’t even know if I’m actually pregnant yet,” she muttered.

He glanced down at the test still in her hand. “Kinda looks like we do.”

Another breath.

She let him take the test and set it gently on the counter, his touch reverent, like it was something fragile and sacred. Then, without a word, he slid his hand into hers and led her back into the bedroom.

She didn’t resist. Didn’t speak. Just let herself be tugged along like driftwood in a current.

Lando climbed into bed first and pulled her down with him, settling them in the tangle of covers she’d only half-kicked off earlier. His arms came around her automatically, looping over her waist and up across her back. He tucked her in close, chin resting against the top of her head, one leg hooked loosely over hers.

Wrapped around her like a blanket. Safe. Heavy in the best way.

They lay like that for a long time. Breathing in sync. No words needed.

Eventually, Amelia spoke. Her voice was quiet — raw around the edges, like she'd surprised even herself with the crack earlier. “I didn’t think I’d cry,” she murmured.

Lando smiled, lips brushing her temple. “I’m glad you did.”

She blinked against his hoodie. “Why?”

He huffed a soft laugh, barely more than a breath. “Because it made it less pathetic that I was crying for a second too.”

Her head tipped back just enough to look up at him. “You were crying?”

“Only a little bit,” he said, mock-defensive. “Like, blinked-a-lot-and-hoped-you-wouldn’t-notice crying. I’m British. I’m subtle.”

“You’re not subtle,” she said flatly.

“No,” he agreed, grin tugging at his mouth. “But I am dramatic, and I’ve been alone for two days imagining every possible outcome and Googling ‘is surprise pregnancy good news if you’re in love and mostly financially stable.’”

Amelia blinked slowly. “You Googled that exact phrase?”

“Yes.”

She snorted. A small, involuntary noise that made his heart squeeze. “What did it say?”

“That the internet is deeply unhelpful,” he said. “And Reddit is a lawless place.”

There was another long pause.

Then she whispered, “I was scared it wouldn’t feel real. That I’d just… log it as data and move on. Like it was just another variable.”

Lando tightened his arms around her. “But it does feel real?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “The second I said it out loud.”

He kissed her forehead. “Good. I don’t think I could’ve handled being more emotional than you about this.”

“You’re always more emotional than me.”

“True. I tried at Bake Off the other day.”

“I know,” she said, and even through the haze of anxiety and confusion and quiet overwhelm, she smiled. “That’s why I married you.”

Lando rested his cheek against her hair, and for a few long seconds, the world outside the blanket of their bed ceased to exist.

“Should we sleep a bit more?” She asked eventually, already halfway there.

He nodded against her. “Yeah. Big day of parenting ahead. Gotta start practicing how to Google more useful things.”

She hummed. “Start with ‘how to tell if your wife is actually going to let herself feel things this time.’”

Lando squeezed her a little tighter. “Already figured it out. Just gotta love her loud enough that she forgets to be afraid.”

She didn’t respond.

But she didn’t pull away either.

—

The clinic’s sliding door whispered closed behind them as Amelia and Lando stepped into the small, clinical room. The nurse smiled warmly, gesturing toward the chair.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” she said, setting out the necessary equipment.

Amelia sat down slowly, her fingers lacing in her lap. Lando stood quietly by her side, watching her with closeness.

“You doing alright, baby?” He asked quietly, voice low enough only for her.

She shrugged, eyes steady. “As alright as I can be.”

Lando reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She held on tight.

The nurse prepped the needle, talking her through it as she did. Amelia kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling, her jaw clenched just enough to show her focus.

When the needle slid in, Lando’s hand moved up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

“There,” he whispered. “Done.”

Amelia exhaled, releasing some of the tension she hadn’t even realised she was holding.

—

Amelia and Lando sat quietly in the small waiting area just outside the testing rooms, the sterile white walls feeling colder than usual. Amelia scrolled absently through her phone while Lando rested his arm around her shoulders, both wrapped in a low hum of nervous energy.

The nurse appeared after what felt like an eternity but was realistically just under an hour. She held a folder in her hand, her expression calm and professional. “Amelia Norris?” She called.

Amelia stood immediately, Lando rising just a half-step behind her, his hand brushing lightly against the small of her back in quiet support.

The nurse, a kind-looking woman in her fifties with kind eyes and soft lines around her mouth, smiled gently as she approached, holding a slim folder in her hands. “Amelia, Lando,” She said warmly. “Your blood test results are back.”

Amelia held herself very still, as if bracing for impact.

The nurse opened the folder and glanced down. “Everything looks healthy, and we did manage to confirm your pregnancy, Amelia.”

For a second, neither of them spoke. Amelia’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes fixed on the nurse but unfocused, as though the words had landed somewhere just behind her.

She blinked once. Twice. “Okay,” she said softly. Just one word, but it sounded like it had taken effort to get it out.

Lando, ever the contrast, let out a breathy laugh; short, quiet, almost disbelieving, and slid his arm around her waist. He gave her a gentle squeeze, grounding them both. “Well,” he murmured, leaning in close, “that’s the official verdict then.”

She didn’t answer right away, just nodded, lips pressing into a line. Her fingers twitched at her side, stimming without even thinking.

The nurse, unfazed by the silence, handed Amelia a printout of the blood-work results. “Everything looks perfectly normal for where you’re at. If you have questions or want to talk about next steps, you’re always welcome to call. We’ll book your first ultrasound soon.”

Amelia’s eyes scanned the paper, already filtering the information into categories in her head — normal levels, nothing flagged, timeline confirmed. Just data. But even with all the logic in the world, she felt the subtle shift in the air. It was real now.

“I can fly to Abu Dhabi?” She asked, sharp and direct.

The nurse nodded. “Yes, you can. You’re still very early. Travel is fine, just make sure you stay hydrated and try to keep your stress levels to a minimum.”

Amelia scoffed out a single breath. “Right. Sure.”

Lando gave the nurse an apologetic smile, stepping in smoothly. “We’ll make sure of it. Water, snacks, earplugs, noise-cancelling headphones, the works.”

The nurse’s smile deepened. “Good man. Just listen to your body, Amelia. That’ll be the trickiest part for you, I think.”

Amelia met her gaze, brows furrowed. “Why? Because I’m autistic?”

“Because you’re used to ignoring and pushing aside your discomfort,” the nurse said kindly. “But yes, that too.”

Amelia blinked, visibly filing that away.

The nurse handed her a card. “Call and make your next appointment as soon as you’re back. That’ll be for your first scan — around gestation week seven. You can ask for me by name if you’d like.”

Amelia took the card, examined the name — “Colette” — and gave the barest nod of approval. “Okay. I will.”

Colette gave them both a final smile. “Take care of each other. And congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Lando said quietly, while Amelia murmured something that might’ve been a “you too” out of sheer social obligation.

As they stepped out of the clinic and into the soft Monaco sunlight, Lando reached over and laced their fingers together. Amelia let him. Didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Just walked beside him, her expression unreadable — but her grip on his hand was firm.

He glanced at her as they waited for the elevator. “So.”

She glanced up.

“You’re gonna have to let me look at that report later,” he said. “Just to double-check you’re not secretly growing twins or something.”

Amelia huffed. “I’d know if I were.”

He grinned. “Sure you would.”

—

The private jet hummed softly beneath them, the kind of quiet that came with luxury and familiarity. Amelia had curled up beside the window, iPad balanced on her lap, headphones hanging loosely around her neck. Next to her, Lando was dozing — hoodie pulled up, mouth slightly open, dead to the world.

Across the aisle, Max sat with a protein bar and a very serious frown as he scrolled through Instagram. For all the years they’d known each other, Amelia had rarely seen him sit still this long.

She, however, was very much not still.

Her finger tapped quickly across her iPad screen, eyes scanning an article titled “What To Expect in Your First Trimester.” She had three tabs open; one medical, one forum-based, and one purely dedicated to nutrition. Her nose wrinkled as she read the phrase “morning sickness may begin as early as week six.” She was almost six weeks, according to the timeline Colette had scribbled down.

“Oh, screw that,” she muttered under her breath.

Max leaned slightly toward the aisle and blinked at her screen. “What’re you reading?”

Amelia startled slightly and tilted the iPad instinctively away from him. “Nothing.”

Max tilted his head. “No, I definitely saw the word ‘placenta’ just now.”

Amelia pursed her lips. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

He blinked. Then his eyes went wide. “You’re pregnant.”

“What? No. Don’t be absurd.” Amelia spluttered.

“Your ears are red!” Max pointed out.

“Lots of people have red ears,” she lied boldly.

“Name two people.”

“Um.” She looked around desperately. “Um.”

Max raised a brow.

“Okay, whatever, fine.” She sighed.

He choked on his protein bar, coughing into his sleeve. “So you are pregnant.”

Amelia groaned, setting the iPad facedown on her lap. “You can’t know! I’m not even supposed to know, I don’t think. Google says no one is allowed to know until the second trimester.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know!” She whispered-shouted, flinging her hands up in frustration. “Apparently there's this whole unwritten rule that you’re meant to keep it secret until like week twelve in case things go wrong but also I can’t stop Googling everything because what the hell is a mucus plug and why is it in my body?”

Max looked vaguely alarmed. “Oh, god. That sounds disgusting.”

“Exactly!”

Lando stirred at the noise, cracked one eye open, and muttered, “Did you tell Max?”

“No,” Amelia said at the exact same time Max said, “Absolutely.”

Lando sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face, clearly too tired to argue.

Amelia shifted slightly in her seat, frowning. “Is it weird I don’t feel different yet? Like I thought I’d… know. That there’d be this, I don’t know, gut feeling. Like how I know when it’s going to rain or when Oscar’s about to spin out of a corner.”

Max softened a bit, leaning over the aisle. “Everyone’s different, I think.”

“Yeah, but I already feel behind.” She nudged her iPad back into her lap. “There are apps and charts and... symbiotic uterine developments. It’s like a project I didn’t plan for. And you know how I feel about unplanned variables.”

Lando reached over sleepily and squeezed her hand. “You’re doing fine.”

Max nodded. “Plus, your kid’s gonna have, like, the two most ridiculous godparents in the paddock.”

She blinked at him. “I never said anything about godparents.”

“You will.”

“I might not.”

“You will.”

She rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her mouth.

Then, after a pause, she muttered, “The mucus plug thing is still on my mind.”

Max gagged theatrically, Lando groaned, and Amelia opened another article, determined to understand the entire gestational timeline before they landed.

—

The Abu Dhabi sun was already unbearable by the time they stepped onto the tarmac, the heat pressing down like a hand on the back of her neck. Amelia barely blinked at it. She was too busy focusing on not gagging.

It wasn’t morning sickness. It wasn’t anything that dramatic. There’d been no dramatic sprint to a toilet. Just this constant, low-level nausea that clung to her throat like the aftermath of turbulence. Cloying. Lingering. Like the scent of someone else’s perfume in a closed room.

She clutched her water bottle a little tighter as they walked toward the paddock entrance, sunglasses on, headphones around her neck, McLaren lanyard tucked into the front of her shirt. She wasn’t on duty yet — they were just arriving — but already, her brain was buzzing with briefings and timing windows and tyre strategy for FP1.

Lando walked beside her, one hand on the small of her back, close but casual. He wasn’t smothering her, he never did, but his body was attuned to her like a second radar system. When she slowed for a moment, swallowing hard, he adjusted his pace instantly.

“Still feeling off?” He murmured, quiet so no one around them would hear.

She nodded once, not breaking stride. “Feels like... I’ve had warm milk out of a shoe.”

“That’s a disgusting analogy.” He said, nose twitching.

“I feel disgusting.” She moaned.

Lando gave a small, sympathetic laugh and handed her a peppermint from the stash he’d brought specifically for this. “Want to skip the garage for now? Go to hospitality. Sit down.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said quickly, bluntly. “We land, we go to the garage. That’s the routine.”

He didn’t argue, not really. He just looked at her for a beat longer than usual and nodded. “Okay.”

Max had peeled off earlier, some Red Bull meeting already dragging him into another PR vortex, so it was just the two of them when they reached the McLaren motorhome. Amelia paused for a moment outside the hospitality entrance, letting the air-conditioned breeze spill over her as the door opened and closed in waves.

She stared forward, expression flat.

Then, without looking at him, she muttered, “If I throw up in front of Oscar, I’ll lie and say it’s food poisoning.”

Lando grinned. “You’d lie to Oscar?”

“I lie to Oscar all the time. I tell him the car has good rear grip when I know it doesn’t. I tell him his haircut’s not weird.”

“He knows it’s weird.”

“Then I’m not doing my job properly.”

He kissed the side of her head and ushered her inside.

The nausea didn’t leave; it didn’t even lessen. But she filed it away somewhere behind tyre allocation updates and garage temperature readings. Pushed it back. Compartmentalised.

She had a job to do.

Even if her body, her whole world, had quietly started to change.

—

The garage was its usual symphony of motion, tyre blankets, torque wrenches, low chatter on radios. Amelia stood just behind Oscar’s car, one hand resting on the side-pod, her iPad in the other, watching the data scroll. Her other hand was shoved in her pocket, fingers twisting the small piece of fabric — an old tag from one of Lando’s fireproof undershirts. Grounding. Textural. Familiar.

Oscar was climbing out of the cockpit, unzipping his suit halfway and tugging off his gloves. “How’s it looking?” He asked, pushing a hand through his hair.

“Like you are still lifting off too early into Turn 14,” Amelia replied, not looking up.

Oscar squinted at her. “Nice to see you too.”

She handed him the tablet. “Look at the overlays. You’re lifting fractionally earlier than yesterday.”

“I don’t feel like I am.”

“That’s the thing about data,” she said flatly. “It doesn’t care how you feel.”

Oscar made a face but didn’t argue. He took the tablet and perched on the edge of the front wing as he scrolled. Amelia leaned on the pit gantry behind him, eyes tracking the mechanics, her brain juggling three different timelines.

Tyre test. Race sim. Media obligations.

And nausea. Always the nausea. A thin layer of wrongness settled at the base of her throat.

“You look pale,” Oscar said suddenly.

She flicked her eyes up. “Thanks.”

“I mean it. You good?”

“I’m always good.”

He gave her a suspicious side-eye. “You’ve said that to me before. Usually when you’ve gone two days without sleep.”

She took the iPad back from him. “I’m eating. I’ve slept. I’m hydrated. I’ve had breakfast. What more do you want?”

“Some forgiveness if I don’t get the lift right on the next run?”

Amelia’s lip twitched, barely. “Not happening.”

Oscar didn’t push, but he watched her as she turned back toward the screens. She knew it. Felt his gaze linger.

But she didn’t offer anything more. Not yet. Not when the garage was full of people, and cameras, and microphones always somewhere nearby.

She just reached for her earpiece, shoved it into place, and keyed into the radio with a sharp, clean voice. “Oscar’s ready for the next run. Let’s do race trim, full fuel, softs.”

The engineer on the other end acknowledged her. The crew got moving.

And the nausea, ever present, curled a little tighter in her gut.

Still. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t step back.

Amelia Norris stayed exactly where she was — sharp, unfazed, in control.

—

The air conditioning hummed steadily overhead, and Amelia sat cross-legged in one of the lower chairs, stylus tapping as Oscar muttered something about corner exit balance. She wasn’t entirely listening. Or rather — she was, but her body was staging a full-scale rebellion against her.

The nausea had been background static all day, but now it was cresting into a full wave. Her fingers tightened slightly around the stylus. She blinked twice, tried breathing through her nose. No improvement.

She could hear Lando in the corner, chatting with one of the engineers, blissfully unaware that his wife was currently sweating through her team polo in slow motion.

Oscar nudged her shin with the toe of his socked foot. “You’re quiet. Am I saying something stupid?”

Amelia opened her mouth to answer, but—

Her stomach twisted violently. She slapped the tablet onto the low table and stood up in one movement, but it was too fast, too late.

Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide.

And then she doubled over and vomited squarely into the only available container-like object at ground level.

Oscar’s race boots.

The room fell silent.

Oscar blinked once. Then looked down. Then back up at her.

“Well,” he said, with a perfectly dry inflection. “That’s one way to critique my driving.”

Amelia groaned, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m so sorry,” she managed, breathless. “I— I tried to make it.”

Lando was already at her side, hand on her back, concern etching itself into his features. “Jesus, baby—are you okay? You need to sit down?”

Oscar, meanwhile, remained seated, staring down at the shoes like they might attack him. “Those were custom-moulded.”

“Yeah,” Amelia said weakly, dropping back into the chair. “They’re custom-moulded to hold the exact volume of my stomach contents, apparently.”

“I’m never putting my foot in those again.”

“I’ll get you new ones.”

“You’ll buy me a new digestive system, because I’m never forgetting this.” He frowned.

Amelia finally laughed; a little breathy, a little unhinged. “I hate this,” she muttered, head in her hands.

Lando crouched in front of her, gently brushing her hair back from her face. “You’ve done three days of data crunching and garage shifts while apparently fighting the urge to puke in various footwear,” he said quietly. “Come on, let’s go clean you up.”

Oscar stood up finally, crossing to the corner where someone had mercifully placed paper towels and a bin bag. “Can we agree to never tell anyone about this.”

“Yes,” Amelia agreed.

Lando snorted. “Too late. I already texted Max.”

“You what—?”

“I’m kidding,” he grinned. “But I’m tempted. He’d find this absolutely hilarious.”

—

Amelia was curled up on the end of a low sofa, sipping flat Sprite from a paper cup. The AC was finally hitting just right, and she'd gotten through the rest of the afternoon without projectile vomiting on any more personal items. Progress.

Oscar wandered in, a granola bar half-unwrapped in one hand, still in his race suit tied off at the waist.

He flopped into the chair opposite her, stretched his legs out, and with no preamble at all, said, “Happy pregnancy, by the way.”

Amelia blinked. “Oh,” she said flatly. “So it’s obvious, then.”

Oscar shrugged. “To me? Yeah. You’ve been chewing your pen caps like you’re trying to murder them, you haven’t had coffee in three days, and you were sick in my race boots, so.”

She tilted her head. “That’s a lot of observation for someone who thinks toothpaste is spicy.”

He laughed. “I’m very detail-oriented. And still peeved about my boots.”

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he said, far too magnanimous. “They were hideous anyway.” There was a pause. Then he added, “Honestly, everyone else just assumed it was heat stroke.”

Amelia lifted a brow. “And you didn’t?”

“Nope.” He took a bite of the granola bar. “You go green when you have heat stroke. You went green this time, so I knew it was different.”

She barked a short laugh. “That’s horrifying.”

“And accurate,” he said, chewing. “So… Lando knows, obviously?”

“Yeah. He made me pee on a stick at six in the morning. Then I had to go and get blood drawn to confirm it.”

Oscar winced. “Disgusting. Anyway—congrats, I guess.”

“Thanks. And sorry again about the shoes.”

Oscar leaned back in the chair, arms behind his head like he hadn’t been personally victimised. “Eh. If the kid turns out to be a world champion, I’ll tell this story in the Netflix documentary.”

“Can’t wait,” she deadpanned.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then, with a smirk that was all mischief and no sympathy, Oscar added, “Next time, at least aim for Lando’s sneakers. His fans would pay for them.”

Amelia snorted into her Sprite. “God, you’re vile.”

“I know. And yet you can’t get rid of me,” he said, and stood up, already texting someone; probably Lando.

She groaned again. Loudly.

—

The Yas Marina Circuit always felt like the end of something.

By the time the sun dipped beneath the glowing skyline and the lights snapped on around the track, the paddock was buzzing with the familiar edge of finality. Mechanics moved with that distinct rhythm—half instinct, half exhaustion. Cameras flashed. Engines roared. And on the McLaren pit wall, Amelia sat completely still, headset pressed tight, her eyes fixed on Oscar’s live telemetry.

No one would’ve known she was pregnant. No one would’ve guessed she’d thrown up in her colleague’s race boots less than 24 hours earlier. No one would’ve known that she’d spent the flight to Abu Dhabi Googling “why does pregnancy make you feel like your body is a hostile foreign nation” or that she’d quietly rested her head on Lando’s shoulder for the last twenty minutes of final practice, just to stay upright.

But now? Now she was fine. More than fine. Because when it came to the race, Oscar’s race, she was always prepared to lock in.

Oscar had qualified well. Not perfect, but decent. Enough to put him in the fight.

Lando, meanwhile, had his own race to run, starting P5. Amelia didn’t let herself think about his car in the first ten laps. She’d gotten very good at compartmentalising again. Still, every now and then, she could feel his presence, could hear his voice from earlier:

“One more race. Then we get a break. Then we breathe.”

God, how she wanted to breathe.

The race itself was tense. Ferrari and Mercedes were locked in their Constructors’ battle, chaos unfolding all across the midfield. Amelia kept her voice calm on Oscar’s radio.

“Strat 7, we’re going to offset slightly from Gasly ahead.”

“Understood.”

“Clean exit turn 3. Good traction now. Let’s build.”

He listened. He always listened.

Mid-race, Oscar made an aggressive but beautifully timed overtake, and Amelia let herself smile—just a little.

Lando, a few positions ahead, was holding ground. Quietly, steadily. Nothing dramatic. Amelia could handle steady. Steady felt manageable.

The final laps bled together like watercolour under pressure. Amelia felt her stomach twist, nausea creeping up again. She ignored it. She had work to do.

In the end?

Oscar crossed the line P6.

Lando, P4.

Respectable. Solid. A good end to a hard-fought season.

When Oscar pulled in and killed the engine, Amelia finally took a long breath and peeled off her headset. Her hands were trembling. Whether it was adrenaline, hormones, or just sheer relief, she couldn’t tell.

Lando found her on the pit wall not long after, hair sweaty, fireproofs unzipped halfway.

“Hey,” he said, brushing her shoulder lightly. “You okay?”

She looked at him for a long moment, the smile tugging at her lips slow and almost reluctant.

“I am now.”

He grinned. “We did it.”

She snorted. “You did it. I just puked in Oscar’s boots and managed his brake maps.”

Lando bent down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “You did both with tremendous style.”

Somewhere nearby, champagne exploded. But for Amelia, the noise faded into the background. The season was over. They were having a baby. They’d finished best of the rest.

And the MCL38-AN was going to be an absolute masterpiece.