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ellievickstar · 1 day

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Bloodied Bonds

A/N: This was...fun. I wanted to fit it all into one part but it was getting too long sooooo yeah.....have fun :)

Summary: When hanahaki disease festers in your lungs, how will your family help you while you hide it from your mate?

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Rhysand x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Elain slander, dying

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

There they were again.

Azriel smiled at Elain with those eyes…those eyes. And in your soul you felt the bond writhe with pain and clench in your chest. You remained still as you immediately brought your eyes to look at the ground beneath you. This hurt. This really hurt. A part of you wanted to deny it, wanted to believe that Azriel would remain faithful to you always, that he would stay true to the mating bond, something he desperately used to want before we got together.

Now, you were not so sure.

“Sweetheart…,” Cassian said from behind me, startling. He knew what you was seeing, saw it in his own brother’s eyes. Azriel may have always been a mystery to everyone else outside the inner circle, but his eyes — his beautiful hazel eyes — showed you everything you needed to know.

“I’m fine,” You waved Cassian off, bringing down shields on the bond, shutting out his emotions, the pain from it, and shutting yourself in as a stray tear slipped down your face, “I’m really fine,” You repeated.

Truth to be told, Cassian did not know what to say to you. After you had defended Azriel since you were kids, brought him to you and Rhysand’s mother, convinced her to take him in. Cassian did not know what could come over Azriel to internally betray you in this way. However as you began coughing Cassian was alarmed when you raced towards the kitchen sink and coughed out flower petals, one after another.

“What the hell-” He started, moving to pull back your hair as he observed what you had coughed out. Blood and petals coated the sink and as you choked them out one by one, slowly calming down, you waved your hand magicking it away. And it was then it hit him.

You were dying.

“Explain. Now.” He demanded. Looking away you mumbled.

“A few weeks ago after I first realised he loved her, I started coughing up flowers and my tears, my tears turned a gold colour. I asked Madja what was wrong. It’s a soul disease called hanahaki, caused by the betrayal of the heart and unrequited love. The tears were caused by the same thing, a unique symptom that is because of my magic due to being the High Lord’s sister. She said the flowers in my lungs will continue to grow until it suffocates me and I die. The star tears are just a symptom that causes physical pain, she doesn’t know if there will be any repercussions from it,” That’s all you managed to ramble out before you doubled over and heaved again, blood dripping out of your gaping mouth as you choked and coughed on the flower petals making their way up your throat.

Cassian was at a loss of words, on one hand he wanted to be angry, angry at you for keeping this from him, for not telling him sooner so he could beat the crap out of Azriel. On the other hand he was…devastated. You had always been like a sister to him, since he first met you as a kindred and fierce spirit when you were seven years old. The three of them had been twenty and Cassian had fell to his knees before the little girl with such a bright spirit, who dared to scream in Devlon’s face when he said females belonged in the kitchen.

Cassian had sworn to protect you.

And now, against a disease he felt helpless.

“Is there a cure?” He asked.

“Madja said there were two ways, either Azriel proves that he still loves me, which we both know won’t happen when he won’t stay away from Elain for more than a few hours, or I could have the flowers cut from their roots and removed, it’s a risky procedure and even successful all my feelings towards Azriel will be removed entirely, given the mating bond, she thinks it will be stripped from my soul. I….I wanted to wait.”

“So you either have your emotions robbed from you, make Azriel realise he’s an idiot, or die?”

You nod.

“Tell Azriel,” “I can’t!” You hissed, “We both know I can’t. He loves her, Cassian, I can feel it, I can see it, everytime he looks at her it’s like she’s the one who hung the stars and moon while when he looks at me that light dies!” You bang your fist on the table.

You point to where Azriel and Elain was far out in the gardens. His shadows no where to be seen, both blissfully unaware of what was going on inside with you and Cassian.

“He acts like she’s the one who went through countless of interrogation, of torture, when she got captured by enemies. He acts like she was the one who protected Velaris with Rhysand when she went under the mountain to be taken advantage of, when Amarantha held me down and tried to force answers out of me,” You let out another pained cry as you slid to the ground, “I have done everything for him, been through hell and back with him. And even after everything he still wants her, still wants to be with her, still doesn’t want me.”

Cassian brought you closer to him as he sat next to you and let you cry on his shoulder.

You cried and cried, and cried until there was nothing left. Cried until you couldn’t cry.

And when you finally fell asleep from exhaustion, Cassian glanced out the house to the gardens where his brother trailed Elain, and Cassian made a decision.

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

“You told my brother!?” You shrieked. Rhysand and Cassian was now sitting around you in Rhys’s study.

“You told Cassian before me?” Rhysand shot back. You rolled your eyes as you scoffed, “Oh please I didn’t tell him anything I was throwing up flowers in front of him, not much I could do except explain.”

Shaking his head, Rhys sighed as he glanced at Cassian and they both shared a look. Narrowing your eyes, the tendrils in your mind crept towards your brother and the general, and surprise coated your face when you realised they had shut you out.

“Let me remind you what I do is my choice.”

“Not when your life is at stake,” Rhysand retorted.

So he had decided something against your will already. Of course, your brother who wanted to help everyone, your brother who thought you were his responsibility, his burden to bear. Your brother who claimed to value your opinion oh so much but then never, not once, ever considered how you feel in anything that had to do with you.

“He doesn’t care. I haven’t even been actively hiding it from him, it’s just that he’s never around to notice,” You said bitterly, “Did you know he missed my birthday? You all did. Because usually he’s the one going around reminding everyone the week before. Did you know our anniversary passed and I had waited for him all day just to realise he was with her?” Stray tears slipped down your cheeks as you tried to hold them back.

Crying meant that you were weak.

And you hated being weak.

That was when Cassian spoke, “Have Madja remove the flowers.”

Rhysand shot a look at him.

“She won’t survive otherwise. Even as we discuss this now she is running out of time, Rhys. Azriel’s infatuation with Elain is unforgivable and at least this way we can save her. Their relationship might never be the same but if Azriel is truly in love with Elain as she feels, then it is possible this way everyone wins.”

“I don’t want the male who almost killed my sister in my court,” Rhys bit out.

“Convincing Azriel that what he is doing is wrong will take too long. Maybe we should have interfered when it first started but now it’s too late. We can still save her, really save her. Not their relationship but at least she’ll live,” “And live with a bond that will eventually diminish into nothing?” “Maybe it’s better that way.”

Glancing between Cassian and your brother, your own inner turmoil seemed to be playing out in front of you as they discussed everything that you had not been able to come to terms with yourself. A part of you could still hardly believe that Azriel would do something like this, hurt you in this way when he himself swore that he would be loyal for eternity.

Mates.

A sacred connection that determined your equal, your partner in everything.

But your parents were mates too…and that did not work out well. So maybe it was time for you to let your mate go.

However, as you opened your mouth to agree with Cassian, to agree that maybe the best option would be to remove the flowers directly, the consequences of your feelings being stolen be damned, a cough climbed up your throat.

And as you coughed out bloody petals onto Rhysand’s office floor….everything went dark.

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It had all happened quickly, too quickly for Rhysand’s liking.

One moment he was debating with Cassian how they would save his sister’s life, the next moment as she was about to say something and he watched in horror as blood came out instead of words. Her eyes drooped and he raced to catch her from hitting her head on the hard wooden floors, and as his ears started ringing, holding his sister’s lifeless body in his arms, as he watched golden tears stream out of her eyes, he noticed there was someone screaming.

And it was not until his throat hurt, until his own throat burned, that he realised he was the one screaming, crying out loud for his sister who’s body seemed as lifeless as the one he had lost all those years ago.

“Get Madja!” He roared at Cassian, “Get her NOW!”

Less that a minute went by when Morrigan and Feyre came into the room, Feyre let out a horrified gasp as Mor took in the scene, freezing as she realised her cousin, her best friend, her only companion during the times after Eris and Keir, was in Rhysand’s arms, still and lifeless even as blood trickled out of her mouth and gold spilled form her closed eyelids.

Madja came shortly after, and Y/N’s body was moved to a different room for Madja to work, Cassian explaining what happened and the illness in Y/N’s body that was causing this. Morrigan took a few steps back, before she crashed into the wall of the hallway and let out her own sob.

And for the first time after Rhysand and Y/N had returned from the mountain, Morrigan wept.

Two days passed, and Y/N did not wake.

Madja estimated that they would have to make a decision within the week whether they would tell Azriel, or cut the flowers out.

And in those two days Azriel did not come.

It was only after Rhysand had asked him to meet, told him about Y/N did Azriel finally realised he had not seen his mate in days. That he had not even spent more than fifteen minutes with her in the past few months.

It was only after Rhysand said that Y/N was dying, did Azriel reach down the now cold and empty bond, and realise he had shut her out. And when he let his walls down, experienced the agony, the pain, the grief she felt even in her unconscious state, did Azriel regret.

“Why didn’t she tell me…” Azriel whispered.

“Because she heard you when I told you to stay away from Elain. I looked into her mind and I realised the day her disease started she went to find you, and you had been in my office, yelling at me that the cauldron had made a mistake, that you wanted Elain,” Rhysand laughed coldly. Even Rhys in all his beauty, his eyes were now red from sobbing, his voice hoarse from how he had cried, and cried.

“Good job, Azriel,” Cassian said from the doorway, “You got what you wanted. Your bond will no longer exist once she awakes…that’s if she survives even.”

“No….I don’t,” Azriel muttered, “Rhysand…what conversation?” Rhysand furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you really playing this game with me now? My sister is DYING! AND YOU WANT TO PRETEND LIKE YOU FORGOT WHAT YOU SAID!?”

Azriel’s eyes looked back and forth between his brother’s….when did he…when did he even get here?

Where was his mate?

Why did it feel like something just cleared from his head?

That was when Elain stepped in, holding a mug and what looked to be tea.

“Azriel, i heard your distress, drink this it will make you feel better,” She said softly, but as Rhysand’s eyes narrowed on the mug, it was Cassian who snatched it out of her hands, brought it to his eyes and shattered it on the already ruined hard wood floors.

“That was not just tea.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

And as Cassian lifted his head he declared, “As General of the Night court, I arrest you for illegal possession and use of aphrodisiacs. You are charged with attempted murder of the Princess of the Night Court. You are charged with manipulation and forced betrayal of the court’s spymaster,” And with a menacing grin Cassian said, “And you are charged because you bloody annoy me and you…what you have done today makes me want to rip you to shreds.”

A beat passed.

“That is….” Cassian continued as he glanced at Azriel, with each blink clarity seemed to return to the shadowsinger as he processed everything, as he remembered everything Elain made him do, as he remembered how he had hurt his mate, “That is if Azriel decides he doesn’t want to kill you first.”

Elain let out a scoff, looking down at the spilled tea and broken pieces of ceramic in disgust, “Azriel loves me. Azriel should love me not that disgusting slut of a female, she might be a princess but she is-,” “Mine.” Azriel interrupted.

“She was mine before you interfered. She was mine before you made me break her.” Azriel turned, no doubt to go find Y/N.

“Start counting your days, Elain, because now they are numbered.”

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Azriel taglist: @kemillyfreitas @going-through-shit @chessebookgirl

Part 2 coming.....tell me if you wanna be tagged :3

Love, Ellie.

#acotar #acotar fandom #acosf #azriel shadowsinger #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel imagine #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #rhysand #cassian #morrigan #feyre #elain

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samkerrworshipper · 3 days

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she’s on the run

beautiful girl series part 4 -> pt.1 -> pt.2 -> pt.3

leah williamson x daughter reader, jordan nobbs x daughter reader

this was created whilst i listened to so long, london and florida!!!!

You waited until Leah had fully descended the stairs, waiting patiently until you heard Lia and her talking in the kitchen before you started to creep off of your bed and towards your open window. It was a easy climb, one you’d made hundreds of times, you hardly batted an eyelid as you climbed out of the window, your legs swinging out and over until they hit the tiling of the roof. After that it was a simple jump from the roof too the gravel drive way, your only concern was trying to be as quiet as possible, so instead of jumping as normal, you stepped to the edge of the tiles, being ever so careful to make sure that you didn’t slip and fall. Once you got to the edge you sat down, scooting until your feet were hanging over the edge, turning onto your stomach and sliding down until your feet found one of the tresses on the side.

It was a odd form of rock climbing but with some arm strength and dodgy footing, you managed to eventually get your feet onto the gravel of your moms driveway.

You didn’t look backwards as you tiptoed across the driveway, the only think you focused on was turning your location off before starting to jog away from your mom’s house.

You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew that you needed to get far enough away that your moms friends who crowded all of the surrounding neighbourhoods couldn’t find you, you needed a way out of here.

You didn’t have a lot of options, and the options you did have were shitty, but there wasn’t really any others that would work.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket as you rounded the corner of the block, ducking into the first alleyway that you spotted.

There were a couple of numbers that were options, some better than others, you went with the first one that came to head.

The phone rings out for a few seconds, your fingers jitter against the sides of your plastic case, whether you feel prepared to admit it or not, you’re going through withdrawals, it’s around now that you’re body is accustomed to shooting up, to getting a hit of drugs and right now it’s becoming more obvious by the minute how desperate your body is for that high that your body is used to receiving.

Maya had become the older sister that you never had, she cared about you, she treated you with more care and love then anybody else in your life, there wasn’t really any hesitation in your mind as you pressed down on her contact, the ringing noise being the only thing to register in your mind.

It rang out for a while, before your phone went silent for a few seconds.

Originally, you thought that it had rung out, but then there was a groan and something else from the other side of the phone.

“Babygirl?”

You don’t know where the nickname had come from, but along the way it had just become the way that Maya had chosen to address you.

“Hey, I need your help, where are you?”

You heard some rustling, and then Maya’s voice.

“I’m still at Matt’s house, what’s happened?”

Fuck. Fuck.

Matt was a problem, but he was one of the only people who could solve your main problem right now, that was all that was at the forefront of your mind.

“Mom found out about the drugs, she took them off me. I’m crashing, can you come get me?”

More rustling, then someone talking in the background.

“Fuck, kid. I’m gonna come get you alright, we’ll get you to Matt’s house and he’ll look out for you, it’s gonna be okay, we’ll look after you, I always look out for my girls.”

More rustling, accompanied by more background talk.

“Just send me your location alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You nod your head, taking in the information and finding that your hands and body seem to relax with the knowledge that there is a resolution coming.

“Okay, okay, thank you, thank you, I love you.”

Maya’s like you, or at least you try to tell yourself that. She’s never had anyone who loved her, she’s all by herself. That’s what you tell yourself, that nobody’s ever loved you, that you’re all alone, she tells you the same. That nobody will love you like a good high, that your all alone, that you always will be. To start with, you thought it was all nonsense, that to her you were just a means of getting money, but after hearing it enough, after realising the truth behind her words, you thought it must be true, she was older than you, she’d seen more of the world than you had.

You stayed hunched over in the alleyway, ignoring the buzzing on your phone that meant your mother had realised you were gone. You felt a pang of compassion in your heart, just briefly. You didn’t want to worry her, you didn’t want to think about the anguish that would have crossed Leah’s face when she’d returned to your bedroom to find it empty, even worse if it was Jordan.

Consciously, you didn’t care, not really, all you cared about was the fucking high that you were missing out on. But the eight year old version of you, somewhere in the lowest pit of your heart felt horrifically bad.

It took fifteen minutes of you being hunched against a brick wall, hiding from the view of the street, shaking and shivering before you were hit with the light of headlights, coming from the end of the alleyway.

You stayed hidden, just in case it was your mother or somebody else, staying crouched down behind a bin.

“Babygirl, let’s go.”

You stood up properly, your body straightening out and beginning to walk towards the far to bright white lights.

You sat down in the passenger seat, closing the door behind you as swiftly as possible.

Maya captured you in a hug before you could do anything, her arms wrapping around your neck and torso.

“I’m so proud of you, you’re in good care, I’ll look out for you, me and Matt and the girls, you’re in good company.”

You nodded your head against her shoulder, slowly pulling yourself from her embrace.

Her pupils were dilated, your brain didn’t consider the danger behind her being high, more jealous that she was riding on a happy cloud that you were craving to be on.

The drive felt longer than it should have, your phone buzzed relentlessly the whole way there, it took everything in you not to look down and block the numbers that you knew were ringing, but you didn’t have it in you.

You didn’t like the feeling that hit your gut when you rolled up to the same house that you’d stumbled out of a couple nights ago, you loved Maya, you loved drugs, what you didn’t love was the overwhelming fear that you felt at having to face the same man who had done those horrible things to you days ago. Maya must have noticed, or seen something was up with you.

“Something wrong, darlin?”

She was 23, closer to your Mom’s age then yours, she cared about you.

“Matt, he didn’t want money for the drugs, he wanted something else.”

You expected, or you hoped that Maya would be shocked, but she wasn’t, not in the slightest.

“I think you’ll find babygirl that your body is the most powerful form of payment, men will do anything for a woman’s body, it’s good you learn that young. Matt provides a lot, drugs, care, a house, give him what he wants and he’ll treat you well.”

You stuttered on your words.

“W-what if I don’t want it?”

Maya put her hand on your cheek, squeezing firm enough to make it sting slightly.

“There is no such thing as not wanting it. We’re primal, we crave to be touched and wanted, he’s just teaching you that. It’s an eye for an eye. You get your high, he gets what he wants. It works out for everyone. He’s just trying to keep you safe, just trying to make you feel loved, it’s the only kind of love there is.”

In your core, in your brain, you know it’s untrue, Maya believes in what she’s saying though, or at least she appears to.

“Now c’mon, let’s get you upstairs, get you some artificial assistance.”

She pats you on the shoulder, before opening up the door on her side of the car and stepping out. You let go of the breath that you’d been holding in. Maya is like your big sister, she cares about you, she would never intentionally hurt you, she’s the only person who really gives a shit about you.

You open the car door without much more hesitation, having convinced yourself that she’s right, and more that once you shoot up that your brain will quiet down and all of your doubts will be silenced.

Maya leads you into the house, it’s a lot emptier than it was the other day, a lot less people sprinkled across all of the surfaces, instead there are a few girls and Matt, who’s right in the middle of all of them.

“Pretty girl, didn’t think I’d see you back so soon.”

He’s voice is drawling, slightly tilted.

You didn’t have anything to say that wouldn’t come off as rude, so you simply smiled at him, as well as you could considering the bile that was in your stomach just at the thought of the man in front of you.

“She got kicked out, needed some place to go, I told her there is always room for her here.”

Matt nodded and smiled, his hands were all over the women around him, you tried your hardest to keepy your eyes on his face and not the company he was keeping.

“Of course, I look out for my girls. You craving pretty girl? You need something?”

You nodded your head, hopefully, you were desperate, the emotional nature of what you’d just been through with your mother enough to be slowly pushing you towards the edge.

“Maya take her upstairs, the speed is in my bedside draw, I’ll be up in a bit.”

Maya smiled and nodded, grabbing you by the shoulder and pushing you towards the same stairs you’d stumbled down just a few days ago.

You tried not to feel completely daunted as you were tugged upstairs, your shaky legs carrying you the distance to the bedroom that you’d been in less than twenty for hours ago.

It was the same position, same place, same everything.

It was hard not to feel completely terrified.

Maya led you over to the bed, sitting you down whilst she rustled in the bedside table.

It was silent, calm, as peaceful as you could feel in your current situation, until your phone started buzzing again.

“Answer it, let them know you’re fine.”

You looked ay Maya like she was crazy, she sure seemed it.

“Excuse me?”

Maya looked up from her spot rustling through the drawer.

“They’ll leave you alone if you answer, let them know you’re fine and not dead in a ditch somewhere.”

You gulped, pulling your phone out of your pant pocket and looking at the flashing contact of your mom, your finger hesitating over the green button before clicking on it.

“Bubba? Bubba? Jord, she answered, I’ve got her.”

The exhale of relief that you heard leave your mom’s lips was one of pure happiness.

“Mom, please don’t ahte me, please don’t hate me.”

You could always deal with the thought or realisation that your mom didn’t love you, but having her hate you, it would do things to you that you couldn’t handle.

“Bubba where are you? I don’t hate you, I could never hate you, I love you so much bubba. Just let me know where you are, we’ll come get you, we’ll sort this out.”

Your mom sounded more desperate than you’d ever heard her.

“I’m okay mom, I’m okay, I’m safe.”

Another exhale of relief.

“Look bubba, all your aunties are out looking for you, me and Jord have been worried sick, just let me know where you are, please. I’m so worried about you bubba, look, just come home, we can figure out the drug stuff, me and mama will get you all the help you need, we’ll make it all better, just come home.”

It had been hardly two hours since you’d slipped out of your window, you didn’t want to know how stressed your mom would have gotten had it been six or twelve.

“Mom I know I did wrong, trust me, I know. But you want me to go to rehab, you want me to get better, and trust me I want it, but I can’t do it, please.”

You heard something being dropped and then a button being pressed.

“Chick, listen to me, your mom and I are worried sick, you need to come back home. We’ll sort it all out, we’ll get you the help you need, but you need to come home, just tell us where you are.”

The feeling of the rubber tourniquet being tied to your upper arm and a needle prodding at your vein distracted you slightly.

“Look mom, I’m in good company, I’m safe, I love you both but I can’t do rehab, I can’t do getting better, I’m not ready, I’m not strong enough for that, I’m not like you and mom, I can’t be strong and brave, I can’t tough it out when it gets hard. I just need you to love me from a distance and understand that I’m doing whats best for me.”

Maya looks on proudly, it feels like your saying things to appease her and that makes you feel good, the validation of having her smile at you and nod her head at you, it wasn’t love but it was something close, the closest you felt in a while.

“Bubba, listen to me. You are so strong, everything you’ve been through in your life, it’s nothing in comparison to this. You don’t need the drugs, you don’t. This isn’t you bubba.”

You think that deep down, Leah and Jordan have no idea who you are anymore. The injection into your bloodstream only solidifies those thoughts.

“This is me mom, this is who I am now. I was like you and jord’s perfect little child, your perfect girl but that’s not me anymore. I’m not the same kid, this is me.”

You swore you heard a sob, or sniffle from the other side of the line.

“Bubba, we’ll sort this out, just come back home, please.”

You shook your head, enjoying the feeling of your blood circulating the drugs that had just hit your system.

“I can’t do that mom’s, I love you, and I’m so grateful for you but I can’t come home, I just can’t mom, bye.”

Before either of them could reply to you, you pressed down on the hang up button, throwing your phone to the end of the bed and leaning back, letting the high begin to sink in.

The bed sunk down next to you, Maya’s arm snaking around your waist.

“Good job babygirl, I’m proud of you, you’ve got me, I’ll look out for you, I look out for all of my girls.”

If you were sane, you’d probably ask yourself the question of what kind of person looked out for their people by giving them drugs and subjecting them to sexual assault, but with the drugs running through your veins and the relief starting to hit your brain, you couldn’t find you in it to care.

“Feels good.”

Maya brought your head to her neck, it was warm, happy, nice.

“I know babygirl, feels so good doesn’t it?”

You nod your head, the bliss starting to really get to you, your whole body feeling the affects of it.

Everytime you get high you think it’ll last forever, that the overwhelming numb happiness will last permanently. Every time you shoot up, you think that maybe it’ll all get better, that the feeling you’ve been searching for, will finally set in. It doesn’t though.

You come to the conclusion that it must be a more pure solution, or more concentrated because it’s getting to your head a lot quicker than normal.

You don’t even notice when Matt slips into the room, too busy processing the overwhelming feeling of the drugs rushing through you. It’s good, it feels good, until the bed dips on the other side of you and a hand is on your waist.

Your body is too numb to try and fight back, even if you had the energy or will to, you doubt you’d be strong enough.

There are words being spoken around you, hands all over your body.

You can’t open your eyes, can’t even try to understand what is happening to you.

You bite down on your lip, as your pants are tugged down.

You dissasociate it, disassociate the hands on you, dissasociate the feeling of being violated, enjoy the fact that the mixture of the drugs in your system and pain coming from your lip manage to be enough to distract from the pain being inflicted on you.

It’s primal, it’s an eye for an eye, it’s a form of payment.

Some time during the process, you drift off, whether it’s from the drugs or pain you aren’t sure, you just know that the sweet mixture of the meth seems to be enough.

You wake up with an arm around you, your silently terrified to open your eyes and find out who, but you’re also in pain and a little bit too curious for your own good. You’re grateful that the hands are Maya’s, it’s a small win. Your head is still dazed, it feels good, but you’re itching for something, itching for more.

“Hey babygirl.”

It’s light outside, it has of been a couple of hours and based on the pain between your legs you don’t want to know what’s happened in the couple of hours you’ve been unconscious.

“You feeling a bit better?”

You nod your head, focusing in on the daze and not the itch across your body and the pain your experiencing.

“You’ve been such a good girl for Matt and I, doing exactly how we pleased, we’re so proud of you.”

It’s the kind of praise you’ve been searching for months. Growing up, for your mom’s, you’d always been the perfect child, a pathological people pleaser. You’d always been told you were independent, in the end though it had all just been loneliness. You grew up to quickly, from the moment you were in foster care, passed around like a piece of trash, there was no option but for you to be lonely. Then you moved in with Jordan and Leah, and they had each other, you were still alone. You didn’t allow for yourself to make mistakes, you had a chance with them, if you were anything less than perfect then how could they want you? You were a student, a star athlete, polite, a perfectionist to your core. You took on all of the burden during the breakup, you were there for both of your mom’s through it all, yet you were the one who was always at the brunt of their anger and discontent. You weren’t worthy of their love, not when the perfect child stopped being perfect because of the pressure, because of the self-hatred that had manifested inside of you since the first people to show you love had broken apart, leaving you empty on the inside.

You blamed yourself for a lot of it, Leah and Jordan had been fine before you, it was like as soon as you entered their life it was just a ticking time bomb, you wrecked everything, you were a semi truck that drove through people, pulled everyone and everything in it’s way a part.

Maya knew how it felt, she’d broken people a part, she knew what it felt like to be all alone, she’d taught you that it was okay, that it was okay to be lonely.

She cared about you, she understood you, she wanted you.

“More, need more.”

She looked into your eyes and you felt understood, like she knew exactly what you were going through and knew how to patch up and fix all of your problems.

“Alright babygirl, just give me a second and we’ll get you juiced up, huh? You deserve it, you’ve been such a perfect girl for us.”

Maya removed her body from yours, reaching over to the bedside table, rummaging through it the same way she did last night.

Your body was still vibrating with the endorphins, the dopamine was filling your head, replacing everything in you that felt dead and broken, it felt so good, it was the feeling that you craved, the reason that you’d given everything else up, because it made you feel more content and fulfilled then anything else.

You were scared of losing it, scared of losing touch with the feeling that you were relying on.

You craved her praise, craved the drugs, craved the nothingness that came from having everything around you turn into nothing, all of the feelings, all of the struggle, all the pain and suffering turned into dust.

It was what made your life worth living, without the high you didn’t think your life would even remotely worth living for, you had nothing, you had nobody, you were alone.

Maya was quicker with her mannerisms, she knew what she was doing.

You’d never seen her do needles before the last twenty four hours, but you also weren’t that shocked. She had the tracks along her arms, the attitude that seemed like she could. She was the one who’d introduced you to drugs, it had started with a bit of pot, then coke, then heroin, then any pill that you could find and eventually, speed.

You’d been tentative at first, speed was more addictive than any other drug, speed did bad things to a body, methamphetamines were a druggies worst enemy. You’d met cokeheads and some of the most addicted heroin junkies and yet plenty of them had told you that they would never touch meth, that it was too intoxicating.

Meth took control of a persons body, penetrated the system faster than most drugs, meth got into your head, it changed a person for the worse.

You wanted that though, you were seeking for that. You were seeking for something to take control of you, something to change you, something to change the way your brain was wired.

It felt so good, you’d never been into needles either, avoided them like they were the plague, but with the plastic tourniquet strapped onto your arm and the cold point of the needle pressing against your inner arm.

It was the best feeling in the world, the best feeling known to man.

You felt like you were on the peak of Mount Everest, like you were unstoppable.

It was the same feeling you’d once gotten from just being in a room with your moms, the same feeling you’d gotten after a good game of football, the same feeling you’d gotten out of getting a good mark back on a test.

A while ago, a time that you don’t like to think about anymore, it all came naturally. Your body did hunger for that kind of attention because it received it naturally, it didn’t have to worry about when the next burst of serotonin would come. You didn’t have to create your own sensation, like you do now, you didn’t have to put yourself on a constant calendar to keep yourself sane, to make sure that you stayed happy enough to stay alive.

You didn’t think about the fact that you’d shot up a couple of hours ago, that you’re body was only just now learning to absorb intravenous drugs, that you were more dosed up then you had been in your entire life and now you were adding gasoline to the fire inside of you, you didn’t care, all you wanted was for this feeling to keep lasting, for the pain in your stomach from everything that you knew had happened but couldn’t recollect to be numbed by the drugs that you were craving.

You felt alive when the needle pressed into your arm, it made you feel like you were unstoppable, enlightened, like nothing could stop you. It was a strak contrast to how you felt when you were sober, when you were sober, you felt like the weight of the world was resting on your shoulders, that you were responsible for all the people that were around you and if you failed them then you were no better than the little traumatised girl that had been handed to your moms all those years ago.

You tried to ignore the odd chest pain that set in as the drugs mixed in with your blood, or tried your very best at least, it was hard though, when the initial pain started to turn into a skin splitting sensation you tried your best to pay no mind to it.

It was odd, you figured it might be a new effect you were unearthing, needles gave a different high in comparison to your normal, it was understandable that their would be different effects.

For the first time though, in a long time, you weren’t overcome with the near overwhelming relief that normally flooded you, the pain in your chest was to strong, instead of your heart slowing, your pain subsiding and all the thoughts quieting down, it felt like you were going into overdrive, hyperaware of everything that resided inside of you. Your chest was hurting, your heart was beating at a abnormally fast pace and your brain hurt, like it was rattling around inside of your head, bruising the inside of your skull and cracking it into pieces as every second passed.

“Maya, maya.”

It was a croak, yourr eyes being forced open as you took sharp, short breaths.

“You’re okay babygirl, deep breaths, it’ll feel good any minute.”

Except it wasn’t feeling good and it was feeling worse as every second passed. Your skin was prickly, hot and red and burning all over, your heart felt like it was beating faster than it had ever before and everything about how you were feeling felt so inexplicably wrong.

“Not good, not good, not good.”

Maya’s hand was on your face, patting at you like you were a dog, like you were a pet to her.

“Ride it out, you’ve got it babygirl, it’ll pass.”

It wasn’t passing though, it wasn’t, nothing about how you felt was passing at all.

You could feel your control of your body start to fade, you didn’t understand how or why, you didn’t understand what was happening, you knew though that whatever this was, whatever you’d taken or been given, it wasn’t good. It felt like poison inside of you, slowly taking control of every thing inside of you, like something was eating you up from the inside, as every moment surpassed.

You wanted to think that it was going to be fine, that you were just experiencing some kind of heightened high from the buildup in your system, but there was something overwhelmingly odd and wrong about how you felt, it was real, realer than any drugs had made you feel.

Drugs were artificial, and they made you feel artificially happy, or numb, somewhere between those two. Drugs had never made you feel real and tangible, like you were more of a human than anybody else, but right now, you felt more personified then you ever had, like you were so synched with your body that it was too much, too much feelings, too much pain, to much of everything.

You struggled to get out anymore words, between the feeling of your heart beating the speed of light and your chest being too tight for any oxygen to enter your airway.

You supposed she got the message when your body started to shake, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your body struggled to cope.

You heard her scream, felt her pick up your body, in blinks of your eyes you made out the staircase, the entryway, Matt in your line of sight.

You get traded into his arms, arms that make you feel tense and uncomfortable, something your body seems to react to because the tremors or seizures, or whatever the fuck your experiecing only worsens.

You blink in and out of consciousness as you’re taken from the house, into the backseat of somebody’s car, Maya and Matt seated in the front, murmuring to each other as you violently shook in the backseat, your consciousness fading as your body became less connected to you.

You weren’t sure where you were going, where drug addicts thought it was a good idea to take a person fucked up out of their minds, you hoped it wasn’t back to your mothers, or rehab, you seriously doubted the latter considering that two addicts themselves were more likely to take you to a fucking graveyard instead of rehab.

You knew neither of them were talking to you, just talking between the two of them, you hoped they were getting you some kind of help, that the two of them would stick by you and find you some help, Maya loved you, Maya was the only person who cared, she would get you help, she would stop this feeling, she would fix it.

You couldn’t see, you couldn’t control your body, you couldn’t feel any sensations across your skin beside the burning created by the lack of oxygen being circulated throughout you. It was like the drugs were slowly infiltrating every part of you, that the veins which mapped out your body underneath your skin were being pumped full of the toxic substance that you’d been so desperate to fill yourself with.

It must have been a bad reaction, or something you’d taken was laced, probably with fentanyl or something that was mixing badly, fentanyl was renowned for being one of the worst things to combine with meth, opioids and stimulants were bad together, it was probably the two forms mixing together inside of you, creating a horrible chemical concoction of reactions inside of you.

You couldn’t keep yourself awake for most of the car ride, there were patches of consciousness, patches where your eyes would open just for them to close once again.

You were awake when the car stopped, not awake enough to catch a glimpse of where you’d stopped at but awake enough to hear the car engine turn still on. The passenger door opened, then footsteps, then the backseat door beside you opened.

Maya picked you up, or at least that’s who you thought had your arms around you, your eyes were forced shut so you didn’t have any confirmation.

A few steps were taken, fast ones, and then she was squatting like she intended to put you down, and then she did.

You didn’t know how or why or where, you just knew that it was cold, there was rain drizzling down on your face, your body was shaking more than ever and you could hear the footsteps getting further and further away from you, then the sound of a car door being opened and shut and the car pulling away.

You were in agony, there was no other way to put it.

You’d been abandoned before, it was nothing new for you, it only reinforced the idea that you were simply incapable of keeping people in your life, nobody wanted you long term, you weren’t made for long term love, you were like a toy to a child. Fun and entertaining for a short amount of time, before you were forgotten and then eventually, thrown away.

You passed out before you could think more about the toy comparison, cold, alone and forgotten.

#woso #woso community #sammykworshipper thoughts #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #jordan nobbs x reader #jordan and leah #jordan nobbs #golden retriever leah vibes #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson fic #woso fix #woso imagine #woso fanfics

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nouvxllev · 2 days

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CLINGYGRUMPYJENNA X READER!!

plsplsplsplspls

Summary: Co-workers in public, lovers in private 🙌🏼, while shooting for Wednesday, J gets really stressed, and craves for R's intimacy, but can't have that yet until break of dawn, so J basically gets sooo annoyed with anyone who tries talking to her that isn't R.

the waiting game

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Gn!Reader

Summary: request!! ^^

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: fluf, grumpy & clingy jenna!

a/n: caught basically the nastiest cold for a whole week, but im back! sorry requests taking too long, tryna to balance everything rn but it all will be done soon!!!!

masterlist.

Jenna hasn’t seen you in almost 4 hours, 36 minutes, and 4 fucking seconds.

Yes, she counted, yes, it’s still ongoing, and, yes, she could almost murder someone with her bare hands if time even dares to pass by without you.

What makes matters worse is that she's terribly sleep-deprived even with someone's arms wrapped around her night after night.

Of course, the aforementioned someone swirling in her head 24/7 is you. Her not-quite-lover in public but entirely her beloved behind closed doors.

If Jenna had it her way, she would’ve jumped off a building by now and hard-launched the both of you by herself just so she could get hugs, kisses, and your hand intertwined with hers all she wanted.

Obviously, the universe decides to be a stuck-up bitch just now in their 14 billion years of life, wanting nothing more than to see Jenna Marie Ortega suffer without having you.

But it's fine.

She could get through this.

If there's someone in the world that could handle a single day without your warm hugs and lovely kisses, whether it be on the cheek or the lips, it would be her. She didn't endure almost half a year seeing that godforsaken Wednesday dance to go completely insane without you.

— Is what she kept telling herself 30 seconds earlier before she broke down and almost turned to witchcraft if you don't appear in front of right her.

She could push through with it, like she always does. It's a simple routine that never got the best of her.

Wake up and have breakfast with the love of your life while prepping each other with kisses and whatnot, run to set for the both of you to act out a scene for a while, when break hits all Jenna has to do is intertwine her pinky with yours under the table, then do hair and makeup after, act out a scene then wrap it all up, lie to everyone for the 100th time that her house is just a few steps away from yours, hit a bakery on the way home or maybe an ice cream shop if Jenna feels peckish, break down the apartment door Jenna shares with you, run to the bedroom, and smother each other with kisses and cuddles. Maybe a makeout session if Jenna's lucky.

It's bliss then repeat.

But today just so happens to be the day that Jenna takes over the whole episode, doing stunts and everything with little to no cuts for side characters.

She'd think that you would have nothing to do than act out your scenes—with her—might she add and it'll be all fine and the nights she'd spent waking up at 3 in the morning would be all's well.

But no, unfortunately you were the epitome of the perfect person and everyone just has to drag you around to who knows where to deal with some difficulties.

Plus, the both of you woke up late so she didn't even get the full girlfriend treatment she always got in the morning.

It was completely unfair!

Jenna was tired, grumpy, a bit too snappy, desperate for your attention, and she misses you. Alot.

And by that she means she misses the way you would wrap your arms around her after a busy day of filming together, pull her close, and feel the way how her lips fits perfectly on yours.

She would've dragged you back to bed and cuddle with you if she knew what was about to happen. Every second not spent with you is absolutely meaningless in her book.

Unfortunately, she has to play the waiting game.

She's fucking losing it.

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

It was 11 PM on a Thursday night.

Jenna is really so fucking tired, she could almost snap.

She had almost endured five to six hours of you nowhere even near her. The most she even interacted with you on set was when the both of you were acting a scene then abruptly got cut because of technical difficulties.

Plus, everyone but you was talking to her as if she was some kind of star! (she is.)

Jenna almost wished for an accident, or maybe a wardrobe malfunction that leads her to discovering some sort of new allergy about herself, just so she could be rushed off to the hospital and have you fussing over her, then maybe you could hold her hand and kiss her as if she would heal.

"How's it going, Ree—"

"Literally, I mean this in the nicest way possible, shut the fuck up Georgie."

He doesn't respond immediately, his eyes wide open as he steps back in surrender with his hands up in the air. "Ooooohkay!"

The brunette's head shot up immediately, her eyes burning and her shoulders slumped as she sank further into her chair for what felt like the millionth time.

"I... I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry." She closed her eyes shut, rubbing her temples, "I'm doing fine." She reassured herself more than anyone else, gripping the armchair for support.

"Biggest lie ever."

"You caught in Jenna's crossfire too, Emma?

"Oh damn, even Moosa?"

As if on cue, the whole cast decides to join in the damn conversation. Jenna loved them all, really, but it would've been so much better if a certain someone also joined and not far off into the distance talking to one of the editors.

Come on, would it literally kill you to question yourself why half of the cast was surrounding practically the love of your life while you're standing like 10 feet away!?

"You seem tense, J."

"Something wrong?"

"You've been staring at us for an hour with that Kubrick Stare of yours."

Who's exactly talking to her? Georgie, Emma, Moosa, it's all in that order but their voices seemed deranged, and it couldn't be any more worse when she's been trying to catch your eye for what seemed like the past hour.

She couldn't take shit when she's horribly missing you. So, she bites, and raises her voice more than she should, "Should I close my eyes to spare you the terrible fucking horror? Fuck, man!"

Jenna let an exasperated sigh escape from her mouth as she rose to her feet, eyeing the group with probably the most intense stare someone could bear witness to. She half-expected she'd get another pain-in-the-ass comeback from atleast one of them, but she was met with unusual silence.

The three look practically horrified, as if they were seeing the fictional idea of Wednesday Addams in the form of a 5'1, 22 year old woman dressed as her. Like they have the small but terrible quote running gears in their heads.

She heard them in unison muttering quiet apologies, "Sorry, Jenna…"

Her mind told her to forgive them for whatever they did, but her heart told her y/n.

"No, no it's fine." The brunette shook her head, her words forming icicles on each synonym and her eyes were like seeing inside of a storm. Without the peaceful atmosphere of an eye, clearly. "I'm just... stressed. Is Y/n free?"

Emma tilted her head to the side, "Actually, I never really saw them that much today, no?" She exchanged glances with the both of them.

"Heard they're busy with the tech team," Georgie crossed his arms, "Even for an actor, they've got a skill to be a director with how familiar they are behind the scenes."

Moosa nodded in agreement, "Yeah, they've been pretty tied up with all the technical stuff lately. Must be exhausting."

For fuck sakes, why did you have to be the most perfect and talented goddamn person?

"Why you looking for them?"

Jenna definitely did not need another goddamn voice entering her goddamn space.

She could almost roll her eyes and flip everybody off if not for Joy and the others being the most precious co-stars of them all.

"Because!" Jenna exclaimed, her voice cracking while lifting her arms in the air, "Y/n's my fucking lov...-"

Oh, shit.

"Lov...?"

"...Lovely neighbor." She blinked. "They... They bake me some cookies whenever I get in a bad mood."

Oh to fucking hell with this lovers in private bullshit. Lovely neighbor, that was the best damn excuse she could come up with?

"Well, heard they went home early because of an emergency, but it's kinda pouring out—"

It was in Jenna and Jenna alone on how insanely and horrifyingly fast she bolted out of the conversation, quickly changed clothes, thanking to the literal heavens (fuck the universe, Jenna will die on this hill) that Tim wrapped up early.

Josh. Josh was always the one you manage to bring up to be one of the most carefree guys in set, it's certain that he knew wherever the fuck you went. Actually, you always looked so happy whenever you talked to her about Josh and how much he lends with whatever left over set pieces they had, it's almost insane that you were—

"Aliyah, I'd tell you to shut up and fuck off as of this moment but I am literally too tired to even say that, what!?"

"Jenna, where the hell is your hoodie you wore on Christmas Eve!? I literally told you like an hour before your half-assed reply to tell me where'd you put your clothes."

Of course her sisters, more specifically Aliyah Goddamn Ortega, would find the most perfect timing to call her about the stupidest shit there could ever be.

"Okay, now, fuck off."

Jenna grimaced through gritted teeth as she hung up. She loved her sister, but does she love you more? Absolutely.

"Josh!" She called out, running towards him, "Sorry, kind of abrupt, but do you know where Y/n went?" Atleast she had some decency left in her to be polite to some.

"Actually—"

"Let one more word come out of your mouth not related to my question, and I swear, Josh—"

"Y/n left early, they told me to tell you but I guess I forgot."

Maybe a little too carefree.

"You fucking guess!?— I mean, yes, thank you. I’ll be going."

Oh, the waiting game is a pain in the ass.

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

You pace back and forth in Jenna's apartment, your socks making a dent in the fuzzy carpet in the living room Jenna bought when you moved in with her, a nail in between your teeth and rain pouring in the background.

How in the hell did you forget possibly all your devices on fucking set!?

Your phone was dead, and your laptop was unfortunately abandoned by its owner (yours truly) and you have no way of contacting your lovely girlfriend.

And worse of all, it was a little over midnight.

All this because you got a notification that someone was at the door for an hour.

And it was just a fucking cat. (To be fair, they were really cute.)

You were starting to worry, especially how it was pouring outside like there was a hurricane incoming and how you left early without Jenna intertwining her warm and soft hands around yours.

So not only did you leave all your devices behind, but you also left Jenna without any means of contacting you.

You almost cursed yourself, maybe even doing the most stupidest and financially unstable decision of ordering a new phone as if it was going to be delivered same day.

Until you heard a slight click and a door opening.

There were times thunder struck, but it definitely did not beat the way your heart almost leaps into your throat as you hear the door opening.

You pause in your steps, a deep breath stuck in your mouth as you cross the living room and peer through the door way.

The door swung open and you're met with the, one of the most gorgeous and relieving sights you may add, of Jenna standing there. Slightly damp and with an... angry? Expression on her face.

"Jenna!" You blurted out, rushing over to her and enveloping her in a tight hug. "Did Josh fill you in? I feel terrible for getting home early, I'm so sorry. There was this whole thing I had to deal with, then the rain came pouring down, and I thought I'd at least get you a cab—"

"Shh. Just stay still. And preferably quiet."

When she's in your arms, she melts in the warmth of the comfort you bring to her. "Guess you caught the cab." You whisper under your breath.

You notice her breathing slowing down, the tension in her body easing away, a gentle smile playing on her lips as she buries her head in your neck. A sway the both of you took upon as she tugged at your chest with her hands wrapped around your body.

Jenna felt and smelled like home. Maybe heaven really is real if you're back in her arms after death.

"Is everything okay? Did something go down on set while I was away? Oh, Jenna, I'm so—" You start to pull back, placing your hands on her shoulders.

"Y/n, push me away, I fucking dare you, I'll bring down hell upon this godforsaken world."

You hesitate, but her gaze wants nothing more than to be in your arms. Who were you to deny her?

With a gentle squeeze of her shoulders, you pull her back into your arms. You weren't much taller than Jenna, in fact, just an inch or two apart. You loved that about eachother, like the two of you were a perfect fit.

Minutes pass, the only sound of the soft rhythm of Jenna's breathing and your heartbeat became a melody to your ears.

"I'm gonna hard launch the both of us right fucking now."

Well, that definitely caught you off-guard.

"Something happened?"

"You weren't on set for like hours! And everyones got too damn annoying for my ears to even process so I was trying to look for you, but then I ended up insulting Emma and the others, then I called you my lovely neighbor because I almost ended up saying you're my lover so I had to cover for it!"

"...That's quite a handful. I'm sorry I wasn't there, baby."

Even so, you knew that Jenna wasn't ready for a public relationship, not now that everyone was currently holding her at a social and cyber gunpoint with her life.

And even back then, you were the first one in the relationship who told her that the both of you would be better off if they both kept it private.

Even from their friends... And maybe more so families. Or maybe Jenna's. It's pretty hard to keep secrets from her family.

Obviously, look how that turned out.

Finally, Jenna murmurs something. "Sorry. It's been a rough day." Then she adds, almost as an afterthought, "Just without you."

You could almost kill yourself of the mere thought of even having to leaving Jenna the whole day.

"I—"

"Don't worry, I know you were busy with tech."

"Yeah. They got me wrapped up in their troubles, but 's all fine."

"Ever thought beating the complete shit out of them?"

"Jenna, you can't just say that!"

"But they've been literally hogging you from me! And I think that's completely unfair!"

"But you really shouldn't. You'd probably end up getting destroyed, especially with your height."

"Oh, but I definitely should. Besides, we're the same height, Y/n."

You laugh softly, shaking your head. "Okay, you know what, tempting as it sounds, I don't think violence is the answer."

She scoffs another time, a crease in her forehead. "Well, it's definitely an option worth considering."

After a moment of silence, you carry her to the living room, her legs dangling as you lift her from her feet and settle her onto the soft-cushioned couch.

You start to pull away once you set her down, stretching your body after a tense day, yet a certain someone was making grabby hands for you while shooting a look with her eyes begging you to stay.

"Y/n, don't you want to stay here with me?" She pulls you closer, locking her legs around yours.

Oh, Jenna knows damn well you couldn't resist her.

"Jenna, just relax," you gently tug her legs apart with your own, letting them fall as she permits, "I'll just get you some water."

She tugs at the hem of your shirt, "Then I'll come with!" Her smile almost comes back alive and she's already clinging onto your arm.

"Jenna. The love of my life."

"Y/n?"

"You're tired, stressed, snappy, grum—"

"Okay, I am not grumpy or snappy!" Jenna bites back almost immediately. "Why does everybody keep saying that?"

You shoot her a look. A yup-thats-why-look, and it's enough to get a pout to form on her lips.

"Grumpy, and you're still damp from the rain. I wouldn't be surprised if you wake up with a cold in the morning." You gently pat her head before sitting her back down. "I'll be quick, alright? You know I'm not going far just for a glass of water."

"Fine," Jenna huffs, "But you better hurry back! Ten seconds, tops!"

With a smile playing on your lips, you roll your eyes before making your way to the kitchen. And of course, Jenna's gaze from the couch was following you. You know patience was never Jenna's strong suit when it comes with you.

It wasn't even a few seconds before you heard,

"Y/nnnn!" Jenna's voice calls out from the living room, almost sounding like a groan and a whine.

It's almost amusing how someone as seemingly nonchalant yet sweet as Jenna could also be this puddle of affection and clinginess when it came to you.

You chuckle to yourself before quickly making your way back to her, holding out the glass of water for her.

"That was well over ten seconds." Jenna remarks, downing the water in one go before setting the glass on the coffee table. Then, she pulls you back towards her, and before you know it, you're both collapsing onto the couch.

"Well, I thought I did great." You say before Jenna tackles you into a very tight hug.

Leaning back against the cushions, you let out a sigh, feeling the everything slowly melting away when she's in your arms. Jenna inches closer, resting her head on your chest as you wrap an arm around her, holding her close.

"Hug me tighter, y/n." She murmurs softly, almost demanding if she didn't have a soft melody to her voice, her body warm against yours and her breathing seemed to be in sync with your own.

"You'll die if I do." You sigh contentedly.

Jenna lets out a huff, her breath warm against your skin and her scent was all too comforting. That earthy rain smell and her aromatic fragrance. "You know that I don't mind," she replies, "Of course you'd think I'd care if I died in your arms."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You're impossible, Jenna." You shake your head once against, ruffling her hair as you give her an extra squeeze before loosening your hold slightly to let her breathe.

"You want dinner?" You whisper to her after, not even above a decibel just for her to relax. "I didn't get the chance to stop by at the bakery."

"Please," comes Jenna's response.

You know what a full-on smile with dimples from her sounds and feels like when she has that hopeful and happy tune to her otherwise grumpy voice today.

You slowly pull yourself back up, gently pushing Jenna off your chest. And also unknowingly pulling a koala trapped in a 5'1, 22 year old body named Jenna Ortega clinging onto your back.

"Jenna."

She buries her head into the crook of your neck, eyes half-lidded. "Mmm… Yeah?" It's honestly surprising how she can actually and literally attach herself to you.

"Jenna, you have to let go so I can cook." Even as you ask her to release herself, you adjust to her weight on your back, carefully making your way to the kitchen, your hands securely holding onto her legs.

"You can cook just fine, Y/n," she whines, "You have two arms."

"And you," you reply, gently patting her legs, "have two legs and two arms. I can't cook with you piggybacking, baby."

You can tell the nickname made her smile. "Yeah, but I don't have a built-in Y/n in my system that I can cuddle with all day. So please just let me be."

"No, Jenna—You're gonna get hurt."

You reach the kitchen and gently lower Jenna from her back, setting her down on the kitchen island.

Her arms still lingered around your neck for a moment before she reluctantly, and against her will so it seems, lets go. "You know how frantic I am when I cook."

"Then maybe, you're not a good cook."

"I'm trying to keep my girlfriends, which is you, may I add, life out of harms way."

"Maybe that's the reason why you're not a good cook."

"Jenna."

Grabby hands, once again, making a return and tugging you by your shirt collar. But this time, you resist.

"Whyyyyyyy?" she whines, her bottom lip jutting out in a Jenna Ortega fashionable pout. "Do you hate me, Y/N?"

You roll your eyes playfully before booping her on the tip of her nose. "I'm cooking you a meal to show that I love you, baby." You pull back yourself and put on an apron standing off side to the fridge, Jenna's gaze could almost burn holes into the fabric.

"Okay." She sighs, dropping her head down. "Okay, fine! Can I just hold your hand?" She looks up to see you standing in front of her, wearing the cutest apron with the well-known kiss the chef quote.

A faint blush spreads across her freckled face, and you couldn't help but smile at her.

You can't really cook with one hand that properly. But if Jenna wants you to cook for her even if you had your hands surgically removed from your body, then so fucking be it. A few missing limbs can't top a few smiles from your girlfriend.

"Alright, baby." You place take her hand and lead her to the stove where it seemed like you've got everything prepared. "Just get behind me when there's oil splashing, mkay?"

A few minutes pass by with Jenna's hand in yours while you cook. Her head leans against your shoulder as she stands close.

Between the two of you, Jenna was always the one who takes over the cooking part of the relationship, no matter how much you insist cooking for her. But you're grateful and very fortunate now that she's allowing you to take over. Plus, Jenna keeps you entertained with her witty remarks and random stuff about her day.

Oh, what a life you're living in.

"You didn't cook for yourself?" Jenna's voice interrupts your thoughts as you plate a serving of salmon topped with herbs, accompanied by sliced lemon and a few kiwis. With the skin left on, of course, just how she likes it. Only for your loving girlfriend.

You shake your head, taking her hand and her plate in the other, leading her to the dining table. "I'm good. I had a late lunch earlier," you reply, gently placing the plate on the table and sitting her down. "Besides, it's not often I get to cook for you. It wouldn't be as special if I cooked for myself too."

Jenna's eyes almost appear teary as she looks at you. "Please never show yourself again in public. I seriously cannot lose you." She replied almost immediately.

If you didn't miss it, you would've seen the adoration and love shining in Jenna's gaze. It's as if she wants to ditch the meal entirely and cover your face with kisses.

You swear you probably ate a seed in your chest by how you kept feeling warmth bloom in your heart at her. "How can I do that if I'm an actor?" You chuckle, "They'd probably question you first if I disappear."

Jenna takes her fork and points it at you, slicing a piece of salmon with her spoon. "Hey, I've seen the tweets about people practically drooling over you. It's like they're your lover and not mine!"

You crease your forehead, crossing your arms, "You get more thirst tweets more than I do!"

"And I believe you contribute to that percentage." She raises one eyebrow, smirking at your direction before chewing on another piece of salmon. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

A factual one at that.

You almost choke at your own words. "Oh, you know me so well."

A sigh escapes your lips, your smile still in place. "Besides, we're not exactly public, are we?" Leaning in, you draw Jenna into your own little world. "You're the only one who gets the real me. If I leave, I'll cross my heart on my own and I'll die on my own."

Jenna looks at you while taking a bite of her salmon, chewing slowly as if she's contemplating something, a tug in her lips. "Mn, guess so."

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

You'd think you'd get some work done, maybe memorize future scripts or send out some emails to directors asking if you could audition for a show at one in the morning.

Instead, you're lying in bed with Jenna.

Or maybe a koala in this case.

In bed. Blankets over the both of you. Pillow's a bit too comfy to even think about getting up. Plus, the koala in question may or may not have hidden your phone and charger.

Jenna wasn't always a light sleeper. Sometimes, you'd wake up in the middle of the night to find her sitting up with a blanket draped over her entire body, furiously typing away in her notes app. It's endearing, but also makes you wonder if she's ever dabbled in witchcraft.

Now, she's wide awake to even be one.

Her eyes closed and her breathing steady enough to lull you asleep. The atmosphere is cozy, and so is your girlfriend laying atop of you.

Her arms were wrapped around yours for the millionth time while her head rests on her favorite part of your chest, her head staring off to the side as if she's trying to hear your heartbeat.

You thought she'd be passed out after dinner, but she dragged you by the cuffs of your hoodie and lead you to the bedroom.

"Jenna," you whisper not above even the slightest decibel, "I have work to do." The gentle rise and fall of her chest steadies in sync with yours, her head tilting slightly in the other way, and the grip she has on your body suddenly got tighter. It's already as if you'll fly away from her.

She huffs as she raises her head to face yours. "Your work—whatever that is—can wait, but I can’t." The room is dim, too dim, yet you could see the slight dip in her bottom lip.

You know you should focus, but with her so close, it's hard to think about anything else other than, 'Nah, fuck it. I'll live.'

You bring your hands up to cup her cheeks, gently brushing her messy fringe away from her face. Even in this dim light, you could see her freckles scattered across her face like vines making something so abandoned a painting.

Jenna sighs when she looks at you. "Y/n, how long are you gonna keep me playing the waiting game?"

"The waiting game? What even is that—"

"Can you kiss me?"

Oh. Her eyes become almost second nature to her words.

"Because I remember being woken up to the most gorgeous person ever but they didn't give me kisses, and I think—mpmhmmh..."

It took all your effort not to pull her into a kiss.

Obviously, your efforts were in vain.

Truth be told, you miss the way her lips hung on yours, she was perfect in every way. How her arms would wrap around you, how she'd reach up to tug on your jawline, tracing every thing you had offered her, how you would push back only for her to pull you closer.

The kiss soon ended with you and Jenna locking eyes. No words exchanged but the heavy breath the both of you took apart from eachother.

"—I think I might die..." Her words are breathless, her arms perfectly secured around your neck as you sit up.

You smile at her. "Well, I kept you alive, didn't I?"

"No," she breathes, taking hold of your cheeks before sitting up herself. "No, I'm still six feet underground if you don't continue what you were doing."

"You know, I'm starting to like the waiting game."

"Make me play that shit again, it'll be the last time you'll ever make a decision."

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

jennaortega

Liked by ememyers and 1,398,938 others jennaortega goodnight to my gorgeous gorgeous girl @.y/l/n x 6 hours ago

natalieortega1: My fav girls!

joysunday: what lovely neighbors we have here

ememyers: !?@#%%#?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

user: WE FUCKING KNEW IT

moosa_mostafa_: we never knew....

user: MY??????? MY???????? WHAT MY WHY MY?????????????????????

user: now how long....

georgieebleu: the coolest ever

user: WHATS IT FINNA PLAY??????

naomijogawa: two losers having a loser rs

user: having a heart attack holYHIST WHAT HT FUCK

user: literally stop.

hunterdoohan: Respect!!!!

user: shit so insane she got the whole cast to comment

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

In short, Jenna won. Plus, she got all the kisses and cuddles she wanted until the alarm hit. (When it did, your name was surprisingly all over social media along with Jenna.)

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x gnreader #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega

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mellowinfluencermiracle · 3 days

Text

The killer Fruit🍓🍓🍓

Request: Also would love to see the reaction to her eating strawberry something. I imagine everyone in F1 (even the mechanics and camera crew for sports) would just run to her aid 🩷🩷😆

It was supposed to be a normal race weekend. Carlos was supposed to concentrate on his race. Max was supposed to be 15 seconds ahead of everyone again. Charles was supposed to show everyone that he is Ferrari’s golden boy for a reason. Lewis was supposed to slay his outfits again. Hell, even Steve James, one of Aston Martin’s interns, was supposed to bring coffee to potential new sponsors.

But nothing happened as expected (except for Lewis slaying his outfit—that man looks good in anything).

Nothing unfolded according to plan. Formula 1’s very own princess ended up in the hospital during the drivers’ conferences.

It wasn’t a car accident that took her there. Nor was it a broken limb. The reason for her unfortunate visit? A little pink donut with colorful sprinkles on top, filled with strawberry jam. Who would have thought that a bit of jam could send Baby Sainz to the hospital?

Let’s rewind to the beginning of the day.

After Amira and her very own paparazzi (read: the drivers) entered the paddock, half of them had to attend a driver conference, while the other half enjoyed some free time. This left her in the company of Pierre, Yuki, Daniel, and Fernando. Charles, Alex, Oscar, and Max weren’t thrilled about it but dutifully headed to the conference. Unfortunately, Lewis and Carlos were undergoing their annual check-up with the Formula 1 doctors.

As she waited for Carlos and spent time with her friends, her stomach suddenly rumbled. “Ohhhh, darling, are you hungry?” asked one. “Can I bring you anything, Schatje?” offered another. “Don’t worry, Amira. I can quickly cook something for you,” chimed in a third. And then came the playful jab: “Ohhh, Linda, doesn’t Carlos feed you anything?”

While Yuki dashed off to the kitchen, Fernando called over one of Aston Martin’s interns. “Steve, please be so kind as to bring something to eat for the lovely princessa.” Before she could object, Steve was already on his way.

When Steve returned, he carried the most perfect donut with him. Amira took her first bite and hummed happily. Pierre, Daniel, and Fernando turned into puddles at that sound. However, before she could take a second bite, she started to have a coughing attack.

As quickly as her coughing began, the drivers surrounded her. Panic erupted in the paddock as her breathing grew more ragged. Mechanics scurried around like headless chickens. Pierre fetched her water, Daniel called for an ambulance, and Fernando sat behind her.

“No te preocupes, dulce niña. Todo saldrá bien. Carlos llegará pronto. Shhhhh, está bien. Respira hondo. Buena chica,” Fernando whispered, trying to calm her down with sweet reassurances. Meanwhile, Carlos sprinted toward them.

And poor Steve? He stood frozen in shock. “Oh my god. I just killed Amira Sainz,” were the only thoughts racing through his head.

Thankfully, the ambulance arrived swiftly, whisking her away to the hospital and administering the necessary antibiotics.

One can only imagine the nurse’s surprised expression when faced with twenty worried drivers.

Fortunately, nothing serious happened to Amira. But that day marked the moment when Carlos vowed never to let her out of his sight again. Ever!

Hey guys. I hope you enjoyed my new story. My request are open. Feedback is always welcome -XoXo

#carlos sainz x sister!reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #daniel riccardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #alex albon x reader #fernando alonso x reader #pierre gasly x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #baby!sainz!sister

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enthusiasticharry · 17 hours

Text

the one where YN has a one-night stand, who turns out to be her boss at the hospital where she now works.

author's note: surprise!! doctor!harry is here to surprise you! i know i've been radio silent for a while, and i apologise for that but work has been so busy recently that i've not had a minute to myself. but i've found it, and i've spent it writing this for all of you! thanks for all ya support!

word count: 10K of smut, fluff, angst and everything in between (and also harry being the cutest paediatric doctor anyone has ever seen)

let me know what you think of good omens here! mwah <3

The first time it happened was completely accidental. Well, as accidental as sleeping with a co-worker could be. A co-worker who she didn’t know was a co-worker just yet.

It was YN’s first day as a paediatric surgeon in a new hospital, in a new town and she couldn’t save him. She couldn’t save him. He was twelve years old. It wasn’t the first time that YN had lost someone, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. But, for a day that was supposed to be filled with new beginnings — ones that were supposed to last — it just didn’t feel like a good omen in YN’s eyes.

That’s how she ended up at the bar, on her third or fourth drink of god-knows-what when she knew that she shouldn’t. YN knew, in the back of her mind that there was no way that she could have saved that boy, no matter what she did. It was too late, and she had done her best but today her best just didn’t seem good enough.

When the handsome stranger sat next to her she didn’t think anything of it at first. He ordered his drink and just sat there. He didn’t look at YN, and YN didn’t look at him. They just sat there. From the sparing glance that YN took of the man he was attractive but that wasn’t on her mind right now — how could it be?

That was until her drink was placed on the bar in front of her, when she had just finished hers and she hadn’t asked for a new one. YN cast her eyes on the bartender, who just motioned in the handsome man’s direction. YN turned to him, and this time instead of facing forward he was looking directly at her. YN’s eyes dropped down to the drink in front of her one last time, before looking at the mystery man again who was smiling, a very pretty smile at that.

“Looked like you needed it,” He shrugged, lifting his own drink to his lips, and taking a sip.

YN scoffed a laugh, “I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

“Smart girl,” The man nodded before turning back to the bartender, “But Benny can vouch for me, can’t you Benny? Went straight from Benny’s hand to in front of you.”

YN sighed again, dropping her eyes down to the glass in front of her before lifting back up to the stranger.

“First name basis with the bartender,” YN lifts an eyebrow at him, “Come here a lot?”

The man shrugs, “Only when I need to.”

YN sighs, contemplating what she was or was not going to do before she just did it. She picked up the glass and took a sip, placing it down with a slight thunk on the counter. The smile on the man’s face was all she needed.

“I’m YN,” She holds out her hand for the man to shake.

He looks at her, then at her hand and drops his into it, “I’m Harry.”

An hour later YN had hardly made it through her front door before his lips were on hers. The door shut with a bang, one that YN would have probably cared about if she wasn’t being hoisted up against it. Harry’s hands slipped down from her waist to her ass until he was gripping her thighs and lifting her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, but the entire time their lips never left each other.

“Bedroom,” Harry mumbled against her lips, before starting an assault down her neck.

“Down the hall,” YN gasped, trying to hold in her moans as his teeth nipped along her neck.

They bumped into a few things along the way, a chest of drawers that was conveniently placed right outside the entrance of her bedroom and then the doorway that neither of them could have moved. When they did make it into the room, it wasn’t long before Harry’s lips were back on hers.

“You sure about this?” Harry murmurs against her lips and YN pulls away.

“I am,” YN runs her hands down through Harry’s hair until it is at the collar of his blazer, “Are you?”

“Hell yes,” Harry reattaches his lips to hers just as her hands slip from the curls at the nape of his neck before they run themselves along the collar of his blazer and help him shrug it off. YN brings her hands around the front to the collar of his shirt now, unbuttoning it from the top down to the bottom until she can pull that off his body also.

Her eyes widen in surprise at the ink across his chest and arms. From what she could see (which wasn’t a lot with his blazer and shirt on) she hadn’t suspected his body to be littered in the dark ink, and she couldn’t help but run her fingers along the ink, following the designs with her fingertips.

“Tattoos?”

Harry chuckles, tapping her chin with his finger so she moves her eyes up from his chest to his eyes. Her body nearly gave out in that exact second.

“What?” He chuckled, a playful smile toying his lips, “You like them?”

YN just sighed, “Ask me again when I can think straight?”

Harry laughed, leaning back down to kiss her again. His fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, and they separated for the second it took YN to lift her arms up and for Harry to pull the shirt off of her body. YN moved to unbutton her trousers, a giggle escaping her lips as Harry helped her when they got stuck around her calf.

When YN had dressed for the day, she hadn’t factored this happening at all, and her mismatched bralette and panties (both a soft cotton instead of anything fancy for comfort reasons) weren’t the sexiest and she knew that. But, when her eyes met Harry’s again, and she saw his eyes flicker up and down her body, none of that mattered anymore.

Harry placed a few chaste kisses onto her lips once again before moving down her neck, down to the exposed skin of her breast above her bralette. A shiver ran down her spine when his hands moved around her back, his fingertips dancing across her skin before skilfully unclasping her bra and allowing it to fall from her body, exposing her breasts to him. The material was discarded on the floor, and YN swore she saw his eyes widen at the sight of her chest exposed to him.

He dropped back down to the top of her breasts, kissing and every once in a while nipping slightly. Once he wrapped his lips around her nipple, YN’s entire body lurched forward. Her thighs tried to tighten, just to relieve some of the pressure that was building within her. Instead, YN found herself pulling Harry closer to her by her thighs, the thing cotton of her panties not creating much of a barrier between her and Harry’s crotch. YN bites her lip in hopes of suppressing the moan that was attempting to slip from her lips.

YN can’t help but grind her hips forward towards his, shivering slightly when Harry’s teeth nip over her nipple.

“Harry,” YN almost mewls, her hips bucking up again, “Please.”

“Please what, darling?” Harry taunts, releasing her nipple with a slight ‘pop’.

YN just rolls her hips towards his once more, and Harry seems to get the hint. From there he moves downwards, littering kisses down her ribs and towards the top of her panties.

“Can I?” Harry asks, his fingers moving to the hem of her panties, slipping them just underneath upon her skin. YN shivered, her hips involuntarily bucking up towards Harry’s touch.

“Yes,” YN gasped, the cool air of the room hit the heat between her legs as Harry tucked his thumbs into the sides of her panties, “Please… Harry.”

YN sighed into the feeling of Harry’s lips pressing into her thigh as he pulled her panties completely off. Even though this man was a complete stranger to her – the way that he was looking at her. The way that his eyes danced down her body, the way they looked into hers as he placed kisses on the inside of her thighs, itching closer and closer to the heat inside of her legs – her judgement was clouded as to whether they were actual strangers.

“Am I getting warmer?” Harry jokes, his fingers coming to rest on YN’s stomach, trying to stop the way that she was lifting her hips upwards.

“You’re such a tease,” YN sighed, her body withering once more as he pressed a kiss right on her pubic bone.

Harry just grinned up at her, a playful smirk toying on his lips once more, “Have I found it?”

“You’re there. Bingo. Please.”

One last pleasing look to Harry, and it was as though he dived in. He didn’t even hesitate, his mouth dropped down and his lips attached to YN’s clit. Her entire body lurched forward, and without even thinking her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to conceal the sounds that were threatening to escape. His lips applied just enough pressure, changing every so often to bring her closer and closer. When his hands reached forward and rolled her nipples between his fingers, she was gone.

“Wanna hear you,” He mumbles against her, the vibrations of his words transferring to her skin, “Need to hear I’m making you feel good.”

“You’re making me feel so good,” YN reassured him, a gasp leaving her lips as he started to flick his tongue against her. YN’s hands dropped down and slipped through his curls, allowing herself to grind against his face. The hand that was rolling her nipple moved to slip down between their bodies. He pulled away for a second, just to rub his pointer finger across her clit before dipping it inside her. YN mewled, her hands reaching out to grasp the duvet beneath her, “Don’t stop, so fucking good.”

The way his fingers and tongue worked simultaneously brought her closer and closer with every movement. YN had never in her entire life had a one-night stand where the first thing the man did was eat her out. It was not only unheard of, but it was divine. The mewls and groans that left her lips were only heightened by his quickening pace, bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

“Harry,” Her thighs attempted to close, only for Harry’s hand (the one not currently inside of her) to push them back open. There was something about him not only bringing her closer and closer to orgasm with his tongue and fingers but also the way he was manhandling her that YN couldn’t handle, “I’m so close.”

He brought his lips away from her clit, only to immediately start rubbing it up and down with his thumb.

“You going to come for me?” He asked, a boyish smile crossing his lips, ones that were glistening with her juices, “Come on. Come for me, baby.”

That one pet name was all that she needed. Her hips were rising from the bed, and her legs started to shake from over his shoulder. She could feel the orgasm from the tip of her toes right up to her head. Small gasps left her body, but Harry worked her through it.

Once the initial wave had stopped, YN dropped her body back on the bed and tried to gain control of her breathing. Harry didn’t wait a single second before he was climbing up her body, so he was hovering over her again, leaning down to capture her lips with hers. She could feel his cock pressing into her leg, and by the slight movement in his hips she knew that he was waiting for his time, and she was more than happy to oblige him.

Her hands snaked down his body, from his shoulders down to his stomach before they toyed with the button on his trousers.

Harry pulled away, only for a second to drop his eyes to where her hands were on his trousers, “You want to do this?”

YN nodded, “Wanna feel you. Need to feel you.”

Harry chuckled, helping her to push his trousers down along with his underwear until his cock sprung out at her.

“Then who am I not to oblige?”

The next morning YN woke up with a slight pounding in her head. It wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be, but she guessed the fully drunk bottle of water that was on her bedside table had done the trick. Her alarm had been set for seven, and that sound was the only thing she could hear in her room.

Just as YN was about to peel the covers back off her body and start getting ready for the day — she felt it. It was light, but she could feel it. A leg, presumably belonging to the person that she had just realised was sleeping next to her, just skimming the side of her leg. They weren’t facing each other, but the second that YN turned her head and saw that face looking at her, all the meme flies of the previous night came flooding back to her — work, the drinks, the sex.

Without even thinking she reached her arm out to tap Harry, lifting him from his slumber in a less-than-calming way. His eyes opened for a second before a groan left his lips and he immediately closed them, dropping his head back down to the pillow.

“Harry,” YN mumbled, slipping out of the bed, and clutching a blanket to her body to preserve at least a smudge of the dignity she had left, “I need to go to work, and you need to leave.”

He sighed, turning his head on the pillow to face her again, “What time is it?”

“It’s seven,” She responded, “I need to shower and get ready and I’m going to be late to work.”

Before she could even finish her sentence he was jumping out of bed, leaning down to grab his discarded clothes, and starting to pull them on his body. YN just stood there watching him, still clutching the blanket to her body.

“You’re not the only one that’s going to be late for work,” He sighed, throwing his shirt back on his body and taking quick steps towards her. He stops, leans down, and presses a kiss to her cheek, “I’ll let myself out.”

“Okay,” She nods, not completely trusting herself with her words, but she has no idea why, “Bye.”

“Bye!” He called out and just like that he was out of her room and a few seconds later she heard the front door slam, and he was out of her apartment.

It wasn’t as though she expected anything else — this was a one-night stand after all. However, there was a part of her that wished she had the balls to ask for his number or something. There was a part of her that was disappointed that the man who had given her the best sex she’d ever had didn’t seem interested in wanting her number or rushing out the way he had.

YN’s shock was short-lived, especially when her alarm clock beeped from the side of her, and she had no choice but to get on with her day. Dropping the blanket she made her way into the bathroom, sighing when she saw the state of herself in the mirror.

Despite the lack of headache, her body looked as though it had been through the wringer. Her hair was a mess, knotted and tangled all over the top of her head — just from looking at the front she dreaded to think what the back looked like.

Once her eyes had left her head, they fell to her neck and drew a line down to her breasts. From around her collar gone down she was covered in marks, some of them small and some of them bigger. The ones around her breasts were the biggest, and just the sight of them sent YN’s mind back. She ran her fingertips along the tender skin, reminding herself of the kisses and the touches that they had shared. With a shake of her head, YN pushed all of the thoughts of Harry out, turned her shower on and waited for the water to heat up.

It was her second day. Her second day. Her thoughts weren’t supposed to be clouded by the man she had met in the bar whilst trying to get drunk, trying to forget what a disaster her first day had been. Instead, she wasn’t thinking about everything she needed to do today, or what could potentially come through the door of the hospital that she would need to focus her strength on, she was reliving the night she had just had as she ran her loofah across her skin, tracing the pattern that Harry had taken.

As she stood with the warm water running over her body, she scolded herself for not doing something. She could have said something, anything to ask him, or followed him before he left the flat. But she didn’t, and she would probably never see him again — and she would have to live with that.

Shampooing her scalp helped remove the stress that was starting to build up in her body. Whilst the irrational side of her brain was telling her all of things that she could have done, the more rational side of her brain was letting her know that it was just a one-night stand. That it was just a one-night stand that she was never going to see again, and that was fine. That was fine.

The more YN thought about it, and the more that she scrubbed her scalp (it was starting to potentially hurt at this point) she brushed (scratched) all of these thoughts out of her head. She had to focus on the most important thing here, and that was her second day of work.

Once she was scrubbed and sparkling and fresh from the night before, she dressed and made her way to work. There was something that made YN feel powerful about her line of work. Maybe it was the fact that she got to save lives every day, or maybe it was the fact that those lives were children, but she felt powerful. Yesterday was just a slip-up, and everything will be fixed today she knew it was.

Once she had pulled her white coat on, and attached her I.D. to it, she made her way over to the nurses’ desk where some of the other doctors on the wing were. Iris, one of the trainee specialists that YN had met yesterday and was going to be working under her was already there, flicking through some paperwork for some of their patients for the day.

“You look…” Iris looked YN up and down, “Different.”

“Different?” YN just laughed, “You saw me stressed yesterday. Today I’m not stressed. Today I’m fine. Today I’m ready for work. Today is a new day. Today is a new day, and it is going to be a good day!”

Iris stared at YN, watching as the woman tapped her nails against the top of the desk waiting for Iris to pass her the files for their patients today so she could get on with the day. She could feel today was going to be a good day. No room for distractions, just her and her work.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Iris raised an eyebrow at YN, watching as the girl just smiled at her.

“I’m feeling fine. I’m feeling good,” YN smiled, finally stopping the tapping on the desk to hold her hand out to receive her first patient file, “Now, I have a bladder to operate on in an hour and I need to read my patient’s chart.”

Iris didn’t seem too convinced by her answer but carried on anyway, “I don’t have it. The peds consultant, Dr. Styles just went in for a consult.”

“Oh,” YN looked surprised, looking over her shoulder to look at her patient’s room but she couldn’t see anything through the door, “I haven’t met him yet. How long has it been since he went?”

“He wasn’t working yesterday,” Iris shrugs, “He’s lovely. Really. Everything you expect from someone who has spent years of his life saving kids.”

YN wasn’t surprised at that. There is a certain type of person who worked in paediatrics. These people had to be kind but stern. They had to be strong but compassionate. Being a doctor, or a surgeon anyway was tough but when children are involved, it complicates everything – makes everything more emotional. There had to be a type of detachment in the person – knowing that these patients were children, and there is a certain higher level of emotion attached to them but how you couldn’t let that emotion rule takes guts.

When YN first went to medical school paediatrics was the last thing on her mind, but by the time she had finished, it was the only thing that she could think about. Now – here she was.

“Well, I hope he’s not going to be long,” YN sighs, tapping her nails against the desk again, “Got pre-ops to do, and I don’t really fancy standing and waiting here for any longer.”

“Stop complaining,” Iris sighs, standing up and moving around the desk so that she’s next to YN, “And he’s here.”

YN sighed, pushing herself up and turning around. She was used to the introductions by now. Whilst peds doctors are lovely and have some sort of emotional intelligence they are still doctors, and that comes with some sort of arrogance. All she needed to do was introduce herself and then she could get into the operating room – where she wanted to. That’s all she thought she would do, but the second she turned around she knew that wasn’t going to be the case at all.

“Hi,” He stopped right in front of her, his hand reaching out as though it was going to shake hers, “I’m Dr. Styles.”

Turns out she didn’t need his number. Turns out she was going to be working with him.

The second that it happened YN had just finished surgery. A kidney transplant on a nine-year-old boy. She was exhausted. She was stressed, and all she wanted to do was go home and go to bed – that was what she needed to do. Just as YN pulled her scrub cap off her head and followed that with a yawn she felt a hand wrapping around her waist. Just a second later she was being pulled into the closest room, which just happened to be a janitorial storage room.

YN sighed, facing the back wall, and taking in the musty scent along with the brooms and mops that were lining the back wall. She didn’t need to know who was with her, and that was the problem.

“You’re avoiding me,” He spoke, and YN still didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to turn around, “You’re avoiding me, and you can’t avoid me.”

YN sighed, “I’m not avoiding you. I see you every day.”

“In consults, YN!” YN ran her hand over her forehead, still looking at the wall, “In consults, where you don’t even look me in the eyes! I’ve tried and tried, and you won’t talk to me!”

“Because you’re my boss!” YN flung around, looking Harry directly in his eyes. The way she raised her voice caused Harry’s eyes to widen, and the way he immediately saw her eyes start to fill up caused them to soften straightaway, “You’re my boss, and I slept with you!”

“YN,” Harry sighs, taking a step towards her with his hand out. Before YN could flinch she pulled away, “You didn’t know that that I was your boss, that is not your fault.”

“You are still my boss, Harry,” She sighs, trying to stop her lips from turning into a frown, “You are still my boss, and I’ve slept with you. You’ve seen me naked! I’ve seen you naked! You’re my boss!”

“YN, you need to listen to me,” Harry was the one sighing now, running his finger across his eyebrow, “You did not know that I was your boss. I did not know you were a surgeon, never mind the surgeon on my staff! We both didn’t know and if we don’t talk this out – we’re not going to be able to work together and that’s dangerous. I know it, you know it. How can we treat our patients, those children out there if we can barely look at each other in the eye?”

YN sighed, knowing that it wasn’t the most sanitary, but she was tired. She dropped down to the floor, her back leaning against one of the shelves covered in cleaning supplies. Harry sighed and dropped down next to her, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Why didn’t you ask for my number?”

YN had interrupted the silence that had washed over them, and Harry didn’t say anything straight away. He turned to look at YN, but she was staring straight ahead – at the other shelves with boxes of cleaning supplies on.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you ask for my number?” She asked again, “Before you left. Why didn’t you ask for my number?”

“I wanted to,” Harry responds this time, but YN still doesn’t look at him, “I wanted to, but I was late. I forgot.”

YN laughed. She couldn’t help it, “You forgot? You slept with me, and then you forgot to ask for my number?”

Harry’s head turned to hers quickly, his eyes laced with shock, “You didn’t ask for mine. You could’ve asked for mine, you could’ve.”

“I could’ve if you didn’t race out of the room like there was a fire under your arse!”

Harry sighed again, looking straight ahead at the shelves. They were in silence again, and then his hand reached out to grasp hers. She tried to pull away, but he didn’t let her. Instead, she snaked his fingers through hers and pulled her hand so that it was resting on her knees.

“Oliver,” Harry sighed, running his thumb over the back of her hand, “The patient that you did the bladder operation on, you removed his tumours.”

“Yeah?” YN sighed, unsure as to where this was going.

“That was my friend's kid,” Harry sighed, not stopping as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand, “Oliver. Oli – that’s what we call him. He’s a bubbly kid, kind, good at sports. He was fine. Then one day he wasn’t. His parents took him to his GP, he said it was a bladder infection. They came to me, and I said the same. I said the same. They begged me to run more tests, begged me. I didn’t, he got worse, and they came back. I ordered the tests and –”

“He had cancer, and I removed his tumours,” YN sighs. Before she could help it, she pulled his hand on top of her knee and ran her thumb over the back of his hand.

“I went to the bar because I was trying to not think about it, and then I saw you,” Harry sighed, shrugging slightly, “And I, for that night could push everything out of my head. I could push the fact that I missed it out of my head. Then I woke up, and I forgot to ask for your number because I was late to make sure that he was alright before his surgery, and I wanted to be there for his parents. Then I saw him, and then I saw you and then I remembered – I should have asked for your number, but it didn’t matter.”

“Because I was here,” She sighed, and he pursed his lips together and nodded, “But then I ignored you because I slept with my boss, and I thought you didn’t care.”

“I did care,” He sighed, “I do care. It was just…”

“It was a bad day,” YN sighed, a small smile gracing her lips, “We all have bad days. I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“It’s okay,” Harry smiled, “Can we not ignore each other anymore? I know it’s weird that you’ve seen your boss naked but –”

“We’re okay,” YN laughed, “As long that you don’t find it strange that you’ve seen your colleague naked too.”

He joined in with her laughter, the sound filling up the once-silent room. It had been a month of this silence, this lack of communication between them and even though YN was exhausted – she felt better. Once the laughter had died down, YN realised that she was still holding his hand, her thumb still rubbing on the back of her skin.

YN looked up at Harry, her breath catching in her throat when she realised that he was staring right at her. It was as though the room around them had shrunk, pushing them closer and closer together until their faces were only inches apart. They had just made up, and then all of a sudden his lips were on hers.

YN moved, their lips not separating so that she was straddling his lap. The room now wasn’t small, and it wasn’t just filled with cleaning supplies – it was filled with their deep breaths, their moans, the sound of their lips moving against one another. YN’s hands slipped into the curls at the nape of his neck, just as they had done that night a month ago. Harry’s hand slipped underneath her scrubs, grabbing against her waist, and pulling her closer to him.

That feeling was back, the one that she had felt before. The one where it felt good, as though (and she knew how crazy this sounded) that they fit together perfectly. The feeling of his hands on her, and his lips on hers was everything that she needed.

That was until there was a knock on the door.

“Excuse me!” The voice was deep, and not one that YN recognised, “I need to get into my storage cupboard unless you want the entire hospital to be dirty!”

YN and Harry pulled away, a string of laughs escaping their lips as they tried to pull their selves together. Harry pulled the door open once they looked a little more presentable, revealing Mark, the janitor, standing there with his hands on his hips.

“Sorry, Mark,” Harry nodded, clearing his throat slightly, “Bad day.”

Mark scoffed, watching as YN fluttered past them and started to move down the hall. She didn’t move fast enough to not hear him say, “Keep your bad days to the on-call room next time.”

“So,” It was later on in the day, and YN had managed to get some sleep in one of the on-call rooms before she was back to it. She hadn’t seen Harry since their little adventure in the janitor’s cupboard earlier today, not until right now, “I was thinking.”

“Oh,” YN sighed, continuing to flick through the charts that were in her hands, “That’s dangerous.”

Harry laughed, and that was when YN turned to look at him. He was in his scrubs, his hands in his white lab coat. All YN wanted to do was wish that they were back in that cupboard, mainly so she could kiss him again.

“My thinking isn’t dangerous. I think I come up with brilliant ideas,” Harry leant against the nurses’ station, his body leaning towards her.

“Okay,” YN closed her chart so that she could angle her body towards his as well, “What is this brilliant idea you’ve come up with?”

“I think we should go on a date,” YN’s eyes widened, but before she could say anything to him he carried on speaking, “I think we should go on a proper date. Dinner, or a movie – something. A proper date.”

“This was your brilliant idea?” YN raised her eyebrow, “To ask me on a date?”

“Yes,” He beamed another smile at her, “Properly. We’re going to do this properly.”

YN cleared her throat and took a step closer to Harry so that they were not at a professional space away from each other.

“So,” YN’s eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, “This whole… doing it properly thing? Does that mean we can’t have sex?”

Just when YN thought he was going to kiss her, Harry stepped away. He walked away from her.

“Harry?” She exclaimed, her arms dropping open.

“We’re doing this properly!” He called back, not even turning to look at her, “I’ll pick you up at eight!”

YN sighed, shaking her head, and watching as he turned the corner out of her view. She turned back to her chart, but before she could open it her eyes caught Iris – who she had completely forgotten was sitting behind the desk when Harry walked past.

“I don’t even know what to say,” The girl spoke, eyes still open wide, “I feel like I’ve just watched some sort of soft porn. I feel like I’m at work, and I’ve just witnessed soft porn with my own two eyes.”

YN laughed, she couldn’t help it, “I think you’re in shock.”

“I think I’ve just watched soft porn between my two co-workers – my two bosses,” She adds, the shock on her face still not wavering, “Never mind that, one of my friends – my best friends, mind that – and her boss, who is also my boss.”

“Iris,” YN clapped in front of her face, snapping her friend out of whatever shock she was in, “You good?”

“I’m good,” Iris stood up, “I just think I’m going to wash my eyes out.”

A few hours later YN was waiting for Harry outside the hospital, dressed in an outfit that wasn’t exactly the best but wasn’t the worst. YN hadn’t expected to be going on a date this morning, but Harry had seen her in her scrubs, so a pair of jeans and a nice top wasn’t going to be the end of the world.

“You ready?” Harry’s hand hovered above her back as he joined her outside the hospital.

“I’m ready,” YN sighed, “I’m ready for our proper date. Can I find out where we’re going on our proper date?”

“Not yet,” He slipped his hand into hers, “I’ll tell you when we get there.”

YN groaned but allowed herself to be pulled to Harry’s car. Harry drove with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand on YN’s. It felt comfortable. YN hadn’t been on many first dates, but the ones that she had never felt like this. Saying that many of the people she had been on first dates with she hadn’t already slept with, or she hadn’t worked with them.

They pulled up outside what seemed to be a diner of some sort. YN hadn’t lived here long, so she hadn’t explored anyway but her house, the hospital, and the supermarket.

“What is this place?”

“You’ll find out,” Harry opened the car door for her, “Not a fan of surprises?”

“I’m a surgeon,” YN stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Surprises normally equal either more work for me or death. I’m not a fan of surprises.”

“I think you’ll like this one.”

Harry opened the door to the diner for YN, allowing her to step in first like a proper date. This was a proper date.

“Harry!” An older woman called from behind the counter, “It’s so good to see you!”

“Hi, Mrs Chapman,” Harry didn’t even flinch when the woman came and placed a kiss on her cheek, “How are you?”

“I’m fine, doll, how are you?” The older woman pulled away but kept her hands firmly on Harry’s arms, “Still the best doctor that ever lived? My Harrison is doing his exams later this year thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Mrs. Chapman,” Harry finally managed to pull himself out of the older woman’s grasp, “Are we okay to sit?”

Mrs. Chapman looked over at YN, then she gasped and nodded, “Of course you are! Your booth’s free, Harry. Let me know if you need anything.”

Harry just smiled, leading YN towards a booth at the back of the diner with a hand on the nape of her back. Each time that YN found out a little bit more information about Harry, it shocked her and didn’t simultaneously.

“Do you leach off a lovely woman whose child you saved?” YN asked, raising her eyebrow as she slid into the booth across from Harry.

“I do not leach,” Harry shook his head, passing YN a menu, “I found this place way before Harrison came to see me. Mrs. Chapman is a lovely woman, who now gives me free food now and then because I saved her grandson.”

YN just sighed, shaking her head, and looking down at the menu again. It had everything that a typical diner would have, but I suppose the thing that made it different from the rest was the connection that Harry had with it.

“Do you come here often, then?” YN asked, deciding on whether she wanted a burger or not, “To be on a first-name basis with the owner?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs, not even looking at the menu as though he already knows what he is going to have. He then sighs, “It’s the only place around here that’s open twenty-four hours. I come here because the food’s nice, the people are nice and I’m normally too tired to cook after a shift.”

“God,” YN sighs, leaning back in the booth and crossing her arms over her chest, “If I’d have known this place existed I would’ve saved so much money on crappy microwave meals.”

“Oh,” Harry shakes his head, “No, we can’t be having that.”

“Okay then,” YN drops her menu on the table in front of them, “What do you recommend?”

They end up ordering way too much food than what would normally be appropriate for two people to eat. They had burgers, and milkshakes and god only knows how many different types of pie. The only constellation that YN had for it was that they’d be able to take the leftovers home and that was one thing she loved more than eating out was the leftovers the next day.

“I’m stuffed,” YN sighed, dropping her fork down on her plate. She had just put back a burger, a handful of fries and half of two slices of pie (cherry and apple) in one sitting. In YN’s defence, she had been in the OR for the majority of the day, and that therefore meant scoffing a sandwich in the twenty-minute break she found herself having about six hours ago.

“So, you’re not going to help me finish this last slice of pie?” Harry pouted his lips slightly at her, pushing the plate with the last bit of cherry pie towards her.

YN sighed, but it didn’t take her long to pick up her fork and dig it into the last piece of the pie. YN ate half of it, and Harry had the other half. At that point, YN felt as though she was truly and honestly going to burst now. If it was socially acceptable to unbutton her trousers, she would have done that.

“That’s it,” YN shook her head, waving her hands in front of her, “Stop feeding me. I can’t take it anymore.”

“It was good though?” Harry nodded, “Right?”

“So good,” YN sighed, unable to hold the smile off her face, “I don’t think I’ve eaten this good since moving here.”

“Not much of a cook?” Harry laughed, wiping his hands with his napkin.

YN shook her head, leaning back on the booth. Even though she was having a lovely time, there was a part of her that was exhausted, but she wanted to stay. Even though every muscle in her body, every ache was screaming at her to go home and go to bed – she just couldn’t. She didn’t want to leave; she didn’t want this night to end.

“I’m not much of anything,” YN shrugged, “I’m a surgeon. That’s about it.”

“I don’t believe that,” Harry shook his head, “I believe that, yeah, you’re a surgeon, but I don’t think that’s all there is to you. That’s all I want to know.”

YN sighed, her teeth clamping down on the inside of her lip, “I guess you’re just going to have to wait.”

“I’m going to have to wait?” Harry laughed, “What am I going to have to wait for?”

“Our next proper date.”

Harry’s entire face beamed out into a smile, and YN couldn’t help but join him. In all honesty, whilst there was a level of comfortableness between them there was also a part that made her giddy. It was new and it was exciting and even though alarm bells were ringing for her that this was her boss, she had never felt this way about anybody before.

She didn’t think she ever would again.

The third time it happened, YN knew that this was going to be for good.

“You’re going to get married, and you’re going to have his babies and get a dog and I’m just going to be watching from the sidelines. Single. With fifteen cats. No husband, no cute kids. No sexy husband that’s good with the cute kids…”

“Iris?” YN interrupts before the girl could carry on her rambling.

“Yeah?” The girl beamed, a sad smile crossing her lips.

“You’re doing it again,” YN sighed, dropping her hands to the top of her charts, “The thinking out loud. The crazy cat lady thing. I know you think that you’re making yourself feel better by speaking into the universe, but it’s just sad Iris.”

“You know what’s sad?” Iris sighed, and that’s when YN saw the glaze over her eyes again, “That I’m not going to have a hot doctor husband, and cute kids, and –”

“That’s it,” YN sighed, picking up her chart and moving away from her boyfriend, “I’m leaving. I can’t listen to this anymore.”

YN had taken all but two steps away from the desk when she felt someone’s arm knock into hers. She didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

YN and Harry had been living in bliss for the past six months. They had done this properly. They had been on dates, ‘proper’ dates as they had continued to call them, and every day just seemed to get better. That wasn’t to say that they hadn’t had their ups and downs. Two doctors, paediatricians at that, trying in a relationship would have its ups and downs. They were emotional, exhausted, and stubborn. That meant that every so often their heads butted together and it either ended up in them screaming at each other or just sitting in complete silence.

“What can’t you listen to anymore?” He asked, his shoulder brushing hers and they walked down the corridor.

YN sighed, “Iris is having her cat existential crisis again. I told you it was a bad idea for her to get a cat, and what did you say? You said it was a good idea, and now I’m –”

“Woah,” Harry stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her down, “Now you’re having the cat existential crisis.”

YN sighed, lifting her hand to scratch her eyebrow, “She’s infecting me. Harry, we have to do something. You must have some single friends. Something. We need to fix this.”

“We don’t,” Harry shakes his head, “I know she’s your best friend and you –”

Whatever Harry was going to say next didn’t matter, and it didn’t matter because a scream came from down the hall. It wasn’t a good scream, and before anything else could be said the two of them were rushing down the hallway and into the room where the scream came from.

It was Paige. She was their latest patient, in for Lymphoma. It was a recent diagnosis – very recent and the girl was crying and screaming. The nurse looked as though she was going to have a breakdown herself.

“She won’t let us put an IV in,” The nurse sighed, “We’ve tried everything, but she just keeps screaming.”

“It’s going to hurt!” Paige screamed back, wet hot tears streaming down her face as she looked between Harry and YN.

Harry looked at YN and she just nodded, “We’ll take it from here Kathy.”

The nurse nodded, leaving the room, and allowing the door to slam shut behind her. YN flinched slightly, but at the same time she knew how stressful children could be sometimes. She also knew that Kathy was coming off a long shift, and that could also factor into the stress.

“I’m sorry,” Paige’s mother spoke from the corner of the room, her eyes welling up just like her daughters were, “She’s never normally like this. I tried. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry smiled, dropping down onto the seat next to Paige’s bed, pulling some gloves onto his hands, “Needles are scary. They’re sharp, and they’re scary.”

“It’s going to hurt,” Paige whined, her chest wracking with more sobs, “It hurt last time, Dr. Styles, I don’t wanna hurt.”

Harry sighed, “It does hurt, I’m not going to lie to you, Paige.”

YN’s eyes furrowed as Harry spoke but shrugged off his jacket at the same time. He pulled the tourniquet out of the unopened IV kit and wrapped it around his arm, pulling it tight.

“It hurts, but only for a minute,” Harry smiled, “Dr. YLN here is going to show you how it’s done, and I’m going to explain every little step. Is that okay, Paige?”

Paige’s tears were still falling, but her breathing had slowed down slightly. YN pulled on another pair of gloves and prepped the needle.

“This rubber band is a tourniquet,” Harry explained, “You’ve probably had one before when you were having your blood taken. You see, it helps us to see your veins,” Harry pointed out the vein in his arm which had popped out. “Dr. YN here is going to insert the needle and… yes it’s going to hurt, and it’s hurting but now it’s not.”

When YN had finished putting the needle into Harry’s arm, she looked back up to see Paige’s tears had stopped and a small smile on her face.

“So,” Harry smiled, pulling the needle out and holding some cotton wool on his arm, “How about Dr YLN goes and gets a new IV kit, and your mother holds your hand whilst I do it, yeah?”

Paige smiles, nodding her head, “Yeah.”

Once YN had brought a new IV kit into the room, she just stood by the door – watching. She watched as Harry spoke to Paige through the IV, keeping the young girl calm throughout the entire thing. Just watching Harry and watching not only how good at his job he was but also how he acted around the children was everything that YN needed to know.

The icing on top of the cake was when he started to tease the young girl, pretending that he didn’t have any lollipops to give her, even though he had some in his coat pocket. YN smiled, watching as the girl who once had tears streaming down her cheeks was now laughing, playing with Harry, and trying to guess which pocket had the lollipops in.

YN walked out of the room with that cheesy smile on her face, trying not to make it obvious the reason why but she knew. Iris was still sitting behind the nurses’ station, and YN stopped in front of her and sighed.

“You’re right,” YN chuckled lightly, “We’re going to have really cute babies.”

“We did good today,” YN sighed, placing the bottle of wine on the coffee table in front of Harry. YN dropped down next to him, accepting the space underneath his arm to squeeze into.

They had been on their feet a long time today, and just the fact that they were both now curled up on the sofa, with a glass of wine to soften the blow was all YN needed. Paige’s surgery had a few minor complications, but it was nothing that YN couldn’t handle. When Paige had woken up, the smile on her face knowing that she could finally eat the lollipop in a few hours that Harry had given her was enough for YN to know that it was worth it.

“We did,” Harry sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “Paige is going to make a full recovery and she’ll be back on her feet in no time – all thanks to you.”

YN sighed, “Wouldn’t have even been able to operate without you.”

Harry just sighed, his lips ghosting over YN’s head. There was a change in the atmosphere, and YN could tell. Harry didn’t say anything else, and YN didn’t know whether he wanted to talk or not.

“You want to talk about it?” She spoke quietly, her finger drawing lines along his knee that was sprawled out in front of her.

Harry sighed against her, pressing another kiss to her head, “Not now. I will later though, I promise.”

“Okay,” YN smiled, reaching out to grab Harry’s hand, “Can I tell you something?”

Harry hummed. YN hesitated for a second, not knowing whether this was the right time to do this or not. But then she remembered today, and she remembered that feeling that she had whilst she had been watching Harry with Paige. She remembered the tightness in her chest, and it wasn’t worry or stress. She knew what it was, and all she could hope was that he’d feel the same way.

“I think…” YN started but then she shook her head slightly, “No, I know. I know that I love you, Harry.”

Harry lifted his head from the top of YN’s head, turning so that she was looking at him. When YN’s eyes met his, she was shocked to see that his eyes were slightly filling up. YN lifted her hand to his face, placing her palm on his cheek and making sure that he was okay.

“I…” Harry started, and YN’s heart pummelled to the bottom of her stomach. She couldn’t tell. She had admitted to the man that she was the love of her life, the man who was it for her and she couldn’t tell what he was going to say. She froze. She froze, and then he smiled, “I love you.”

YN sighed, and it took everything in her to not pick up one of the cushions next to her and launch it at Harry’s head, “Don’t scare me like that again. I thought I was going to have a heart attack.”

“What?” He laughed, leaning forward to place a kiss on her cheek and then to the nape of her neck, “What do you mean?”

“Your face, and the silence and –” YN pulled away from him slightly, moving so that there was a gap between them. Until a wave of something covered her and before she knew it she was standing up, “Then the hesitation! You hesitated and you looked like you were going to cry, and then you hesitated to tell me that you love me!”

Harry sighed, sitting up with his knees open in front of her. Harry reached out for YN’s hands, but she pouted and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I love you. I love you more than anything YN, and I know that it hasn��t been long – but I am ready to spend the rest of my life with you.”

YN sighed, but reached out and dropped her hands into Harry’s, “You’re not upset with me then?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “I just… today, with Paige. That girl. She was so scared, so scared. Her parents were scared, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I’m a doctor, that’s what I am and the entire time all I could think about was you. In the surgery, I wondered how you were feeling, and what you might have wanted for dinner tonight.”

YN sighed, reaching forward to place a hand on his cheek – his face leaning into her touch.

“Harry…”

“I have never, ever not thought of the hospital, and my patients the entire day since I was a trainee. Then you come, and you’re always there – in the back of my mind. I love you so much, YN, and I would never hesitate to tell you that.”

YN didn’t say anything else. Instead, YN took a step forward. She grasped Harry’s face in her hands. His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her body closer until his head was resting upon her stomach. YN’s fingers slipped through his hair, right until they were at those curls at the bottom of his neck that she loved. She could feel his lips pressing tiny pecks into her stomach over her shirt. Using the curls, she tugged lightly to pull his face away from her stomach, and she could immediately lean down and capture his lips with hers.

YN sighed into the kiss, her body collapsing onto his until she was straddling him. His hands picked up speed, slipping underneath her shirt as hers tugged on his hair – their lips moving together at the same rate.

“I love you,” Harry mumbled against her lips, not stopping his kisses for even a second.

YN pulled away for a second, pushing his hair off his forehead, “Then show me… please.”

Harry nodded, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips before helping YN up and off of the sofa. The two of them stumbled into YN’s bedroom quickly, their hands never leaving each other’s body.

It was new, it was exciting, and it was good. It was love.

Harry dropped down on the bed, and YN followed – dropping on his lap just as she had been on the sofa. His fingers fiddled with the edge of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra (it being the first thing to come off her body when she came home), and his lips immediately started placing kisses all over her chest and breasts.

“I love you,” He mumbled against her skin.

“Do you love me? Or do you love my boobs?”

Harry chuckled, his teeth grazing her nipple lightly, “I love you and I love your boobs… equally.”

YN laughed, pushing him away from her body lightly, “You’re such an idiot.”

“I am,” He placed her kiss on her chest, “I’m an idiot,” he placed another kiss on her neck, “But I’m an idiot who loves you.”

Piece by piece their clothing was removed, and whispers and kisses and giggles were shared until they were both naked. They had moved further up so that Harry’s back was pressed against the headboard, YN hovering above him.

Their movements started slow, YN sliding herself down onto Harry’s cock. The feeling was full, and amongst that, it was full of love. Harry’s hands landed on YN’s hips, helping her move whilst YN’s clutched the headboard. YN gasped into Harry’s mouth as she started to rotate her hips.

“Harry,” YN moaned into his mouth, one of her hands leaving the headboard to grasp his shoulder. Harry started to help her, his hips rolling up to meet hers, causing YN’s nails to press into the skin of his shoulder.

“Keep going for me, baby,” Harry mumbled, his head dropping down to YN’s shoulder – his lips grazing her skin, “Come on, keep going for me.”

YN sped up her hips, listening to Harry’s words of encouragement. There was no way that YN could be closer to Harry than she was at this moment, but with each thrust, she wanted to be.

“So wet for me baby,” Harry mumbled, “Doing so well for me baby.”

“Harry, please,” YN whined, her hips moving quicker and quicker with every passing moment, “I need more, I need you more.”

“You wanna switch?” Harry pulls his head up from her shoulder, looking directly into her eyes, “Just tell me, baby.”

YN’s hips stopped and with Harry’s help, she lifted herself off him. YN whimpered slightly at the loss of contact, but the second that she moved so that she was on her back, Harry was hovering over her.

“Harry, please,” YN’s hands clawed at his back, pulling him closer to her.

“You okay?” He asked, one hand on his cock to line it up with her entrance and the other one holding his body up by her head.

“Please,” YN nodded, her hands scratching down his back again, pushing lightly on the top of his ass, “Please Harry, I wanna feel you. Need to feel you.”

Harry didn’t hesitate to push inside of her, taking YN’s breath away. He moved forward so that their foreheads were touching each other’s. This was what YN wanted – what she needed. Each thrust of his hips felt as though he was bringing her closer and closer – not only to her orgasm but also to him.

“Harry,” YN whimpered, moving her lips onto Harry’s, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Harry picked up the pace, moving his hips faster and faster until he saw the tell-tale signs. YN’s breathing turned faster, and one of the hands that was on his back reached out to the bed next to her, screwing the sheets into her fist. It hadn’t taken Harry long to pick up the signs, listening to all of the signs that her body gave him. Once that switch was flipped, Harry knew exactly what to do.

“It’s okay, baby,” Harry mumbled against her lips, one of his hands slipping down between their bodies so that he could roll her clit between his fingers, “Let go for me, always look so pretty when you come for me – so pretty.”

“Harry, I’m so close,” YN’s hips moved up to meet Harry’s. The mixture of both Harry’s cock inside of her and also his fingers on her clit, speeding the process along – that was all that YN needed. Her orgasm raked through her body, a line of whimpers escaping her lips, along with a string of Harry’s name. Harry coaxed her through her orgasm, not stopping his pace until he saw the signs.

Harry came not long after, his body going rigid against YN’s. Harry’s head leant down to capture YN’s lips with his again, slowing his hips down until he came to a complete stop inside her. He dropped down – his body weight falling upon YN’s. She felt comfort with it, his body weight pressed on hers.

Silence fell between the two of them, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later when Harry moved to slip out of YN that any sound was made in the room apart from the sound of their breathing. YN felt an emptiness inside of her, but once Harry was laid at her side she wasted no time in moving closer to him. She lipped his leg in between his, her arm wrapping around his chest and resting on his shoulder.

“I…” YN started, her finger lifting to run down Harry’s cheek ever so lightly, “Think you’re a good omen.”

“What?” Harry smiled, tilting his head down slightly so that he could look at her, where her head was resting on his shoulder.

“A good omen,” YN shrugged, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “I think… you were brought to me to show me that everything is going to be okay.”

“It is going to be okay,” Harry nodded, lifting his hand to brush her hair off her forehead, “Everything is going to be okay.”

It wasn’t that YN believed in anything like that. She didn’t believe in signs before all of this but now. Now, she believed that Harry was her sign. He was her sign.

He was her good omen.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles

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glorious-spoon · 2 days

Note

ship: eddie/buck prompt: couch

hi, and thank you! this got longer than i was planning, lol. buck/eddie; 700 words; unsubtle metaphors and first kisses

Eddie opens his eyes to the dim flickering light of the TV, turned down low but not quite muted on one of those Ninja Warrior things that Buck loves. He's tilted sideways, cheek pillowed against the outside of Buck's arm, and he's apparently been drooling a little, which would be more embarrassing if it were the first or even the twentieth time it's happened.

"Sorry," he mumbles, peeling his face away to flop back against the couch and muffle a yawn into the back of his hand. "Time's it?"

"Like ten. You were wiped."

"Haven't been sleeping great lately."

"Good thing I picked out a comfortable couch this time around, huh?"

Eddie laughs softly, rolls his shoulders until they give a couple of satisfying pops, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He glances up to see Buck watching him fondly, his face lit up in the glow of the screen, his eyes sleepy and soft.

"Yeah," he says. "Good thing."

Buck huffs a little, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Eddie imagines tracing the shape of it with his fingers, or maybe with his lips. It's a thought he's become more settled with in the past month or so, after Buck ended things with Tommy, or Tommy ended things with him—Eddie never actually got a detailed post-mortem on what went down there, from either of them, and he's not sure he wants one. They're both single now. Buck likes men. Eddie could just kiss him and see where it leads.

Instead, he slouches back against the couch. On the screen, a petite but muscular woman is slamming her way up a salmon ladder while the crowd shrieks, nearly muted, and the timer speeds ahead.

"God, she's so good. I bet she could kick my ass."

"That's your type, huh?" Eddie asks, and Buck ducks his head, laughing.

"I don't know. Maybe."

Eddie hums. He's remembering a night in Buck's kitchen, years ago—you wanna go for the title?—and a tension he can name more easily now than he could back then. For himself, anyway. Sometimes Buck looks at him the way he is now, and he thinks—but he doesn't know. Not for sure.

"Hey, Eddie?"

He didn't even realize his eyes had slid shut again. He blinks, rubbing at them, then rolls his head over to look at Buck. "Yeah?"

Buck hesitates, his lips parted. His eyes flicker over Eddie's face for a moment, and then he scoffs a little and turns his face away. "Nothing. Never mind."

"Oh, no, come on. Now you gotta tell me."

"It's nothing. Seriously."

"Buck."

Buck holds out for a moment, but Eddie can see the moment he gives in, his shoulders sagging, because he's never been any better at saying no to Eddie than Eddie is at saying no to him. It's comforting, the way they both have that problem. Buck rubs at his lower lip, then shrugs a little, then says, without looking at Eddie, "Do you ever… did you ever think that you and me, that we could be…" He glances over, quick and nervous, and Eddie wishes like hell that he knew what his face was doing or how to control it. Buck smears his hand over his mouth a little more roughly, then says, "Seriously, forget it."

"Buck," Eddie whispers. He straightens up on the couch, fully awake now.

"Eddie, I—I don't—"

"Hey," Eddie says, and he reaches up and touches Buck's cheek. Warm skin, stubble just starting to come in. Buck's eyelashes fluttering, his shaky breath. And it's easy from there, to let that guide him: to lean in and press a kiss to Buck's mouth.

It lingers in the stillness for a moment. Then Buck's hand comes up to cup his cheek, and his lips move against Eddie's, kissing him back.

It's soft, and they part just as softly. Buck's eyes are closed, but after a moment he opens them. He breathes out shakily, then laughs a little. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Eddie whispers. His hand is still on Buck's cheek, and he wants to kiss him again, and he thinks maybe he gets to do that now. "Yeah, I think we could."

#911 #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #prompt fic #my fic

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asapeveryday · 2 days

Text

Fuck The Freshmen: Say My Name (2/2)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Media girl!reader

Warnings: car sex. Hello.

Read: Part 1: Fuck the freshman BEFORE this!

A/n: yayayaya part 2! This is final btw not tryna make another series so fast. I added another title because the main one only really applies to the first part, not this one. Ok enjoy!

Paige practically scurries out of the change room and takes your hand, leading you out of the gym in a hurry. She looks great in her practice clothes, but when she’s wearing her signature Uconn tracksuit she’s basically the Paige of your dreams. You hate it.

Clambering into the passenger seat of her car, you turn to look at her but she’s already leaning into you. Her kisses are hungry, starved even. Like she’s been meaning for this to happen. Her hands are placed firmly on your hips, yours are caressing her face. You barely breathe and it’s intoxicating, the fact that you’re willing to choke for her lips is almost your worst nightmare.

“Hey.” You manage to utter between kisses. “Buckers, stop. Someone might see.”

Paige pulls away from you and gazes out the window into the gym parking lot. “Practice isn’t over for another 15 minutes.” She shrugs.

“You’re only planning on having me for 15 minutes?” You raise your eyebrow. “Disappointing.”

“Fuck you.” She scoffs, turning on her car and speedily driving out just a little farther, to where the parking lot is deserted.

“Wow, couldn’t even take me somewhere else?” You complain. You don’t really mind, but you’re used to giving Paige a hard time.

Paige’s eyes are glaring at you, burning make-believe holes through your own. “Get in the back.”

Much to your own dismay, you listen to her and she joins you closely, immediately pushing you to lay down on the backseats.

Your mind can barely register that Paige Bueckers, the girl who would ignore you during freshman+sophomore year and make snide comments during junior+senior year, is on top of you.

Her knee in between your legs, pushing up into your heat just right. Her tongue darting out between her lips as she eyes you, then that same tongue entering your mouth as she kisses you. Her chain dangling, hitting your chest as her head moves with yours.

She’s so fine it’s infuriating. You’ve never made out with someone so good in your life.

You hurriedly take off your ‘uconn media’ crewneck, leaving you just in your bra and pants. Paige just stares for a moment, hands ghosting the straps of your bra. You realize she’s waiting for your permission.

“Use your words, Bueckers.” You say, relishing the fact that despite her being on top of you, you could still try to have the upper hand.

“Lemme see you.”

You stare at her.

“..please.” Paige grumbles out

You slightly arch your back so she can reach to undo your bra. She tosses it to the ground and lets out a whistle at the sight of you, topless and hair askew on the leather seats of her car.

“Fuck.” She says, immediately going back in to kiss you, her hands busy groping your tits. Her lips start to trail from your mouth to your jaw, then your neck, pausing there and sucking perfectly into the sensitive skin.

From your neck she trails down to your collarbone, then just over your breasts and finally she attaches her mouth to your nipple, causing you to let out a quiet whimper.

Her mouth is all over your chest, and when you look down you’re surprised to see hickeys all over you. Paige is marking you up.

As she focuses on your tits, her hands find their way to the waistband of your pants, abruptly pulling them down and revealing how wet you are through your underwear.

Paige audibly chuckles and you wish you could hit her.

She places soft kitten kisses from your chest trailing to just above your underwear line, before licking a neat stripe to your folds through your panties.

The barrier between her tongue and your pussy is overstimulating. She’s soaking you more by wetting your underwear with her saliva, your legs try to close on her but she holds them open.

“Cmon..” you moan out. “Stop teasing me Bueckers.”

Paige looks up at you, eyes electrifying yours. “Wanna use your words?”

“Please. Please eat me out.” You whine, not caring about superiority anymore.

“Say my name.”

“What?”

She looks at you darkly. “Say my fucking name. My first name. Stop calling me Bueckers. I wanna hear you call out for me.”

Before you can respond she pulls your panties to the side and attaches her mouth to your folds. Immediately you’re thrusted into pure ecstasy. Her tongue laps at your entrance and circles at your clit with pure force and aggression. Your legs start to twitch and she feverishly holds them down and devotes herself to you.

“Shit.” You groan. “Oh shit, Paige..” you finally utter, your hand reaching out for her and grabbing her ponytail. Tender headed as ever, she lets out a noise against you and you can feel her bite her lip against your skin. There’s no way. You think to yourself. Paige likes having her hair pulled.

She continues to make a mess of you, and you relish at her little noises when you tug at her hair, or use it to push her further towards you.

“Look at you, fucking up my car seats.” She murmurs against your legs.

“Oh.” You moan out. “I know you’ve fuckin’ dreamt of this. Teasing me all the time, trying to make my job harder for me. You just, ah, wanted my attention.” You manage to grumble.

When she sucks on your clit you swear you can see stars, back arching and hands gripping her head.

“Should’ve seen your face when I’d talk to them freshman.” She scoffs in response. “Looked pretty bothered to me. I just wanted to see how much you could take.”

“P..” you whimper.

“You think I never noticed how you couldn’t hold eye contact with me? How you’d watch me on the court? Fuck, even though you acted tough, most of your pictures were of me.”

She’s gripping your legs so tight. Her hands are slender, nails short. Her arms are covered by her tracksuit, but you’ve seen how veiny they are firsthand. You’ve thought of it all too often.

“Don’t get quiet now, baby.” She says with another swift lick to your pussy. “Did you ever look at those pictures? All alone in your room, wishing I was there to give you what you can’t get on your own, hm?”

You’re trying to suppress your whines, hating how she’s getting the best of you. It’s becoming too much, you can feel a knot forming in your stomach with every word that vibrates against you.

“Do you know how many times I wanted to take you, right then and there? Every dinner, every practice. Every time I could see you focusing so hard on getting the perfect shot. God, I just wanted to see how your face would change if I touched you like this. I wanted to see how much I could distract you.”

“Fuuuck, Paige. Paigey, please.”

At the mention of her name, it seems a switch flicks in her brain. She’s engulfing herself in you, the noises are embarrassing yet hot. Your thighs are wet with slick and her saliva.

“Tell me what you want, mama. I’ll do it for you.” She whispers just loud enough for you to hear.

“Paige, P-uhm..” You struggle to get the words out, the knot in your stomach is only tightening. “Make me cum. Please, Paige. Lemme cum for you.” You manage to utter.

You feel yourself almost burst, and as you cum she takes it all in her mouth without hesitation. It’s disgusting, but it’s a scene that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Finally she brings herself back to your face, kissing you smoothly. Her tongue dancing with yours, letting you taste yourself on her.

“Paige.” You croak out.

“I know baby. God, I love how you say my name.”

You look into her eyes, unsure what to do or feel. She looks right back at you, her hand brushing hair out of your face. When she wipes a tear from your cheek she snickers “Head game so good I had you crying? Damn.”

“I’ll get you back, bitch.” You grumble, eyes pulling away from hers. You feel your face get hot with embarrassment.

She grabs your face and forces you to look at her once more. Her eyes aren’t playful anymore, they’re firm.

“You better.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #smut #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #wlw smut

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tooearlyforthis · 2 days

Text

Help Me Help You

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader

Synopsis: (12.6k wc) Steve can't always admit when he needs help - which is why Robin is there to tell him. Weeks of therapy and he feels like he's gotten nowhere. So what happens when his therapist recommends a group session? What if he recognizes someone there?

Warnings: fluff, angst, mental health - anxiety, depression, panic attacks, mentions of loss, therapy, SA

Click here to see my Masterlist | click here for my Steve Harrington taglist

This is a little different than what I usually post but I started writing this when I wasn't in the best place and I found it helped a lot. A lot of this stuff I've been through but if there is any feedback you guys have to portray the things discussed better please reach out!

“And how has that shaped you?”

The words echoed in Steve’s ears. He had heard it, comprehended the question; but his mind drifted far away. The grey carpet floor beneath him held no value, but he couldn’t look away. Why did he think therapy was a good idea?

Dr. Ackerman shifted in her seat, her pencil tapping against a notebook in her lap. “Steve,” she said sternly. He only mumbled a response, picking his head up. “How did not getting into college shape you?”

It sounded more like an interview question than anything else. Something a mid-level employee would ask him as he sat in the front of the store, nerves taking over his whole body.

He propped his foot up on one knee, trying to think of an answer quickly. “Uh more resilience, I guess?”

Nodding, Dr. Ackerman wrote on her notepad. “Care to elaborate?”

“I don’t know, that kind of life wasn’t meant for me. It made me move on to better things.” He tried not to tap his fingers against his thigh - a nervous tick he had developed over the years.

“And why do you think that life, going to college, wasn’t for you?”

He tried to think of a way to justify his answer. Telling the truth wasn’t an option, despite it being the reason he sought out counseling.

She leaned forward, letting her hands drift over her knees. “This won’t work if you’re not open, Steve.”

Shit how did she know?

Leaning back Dr. Ackerman continued, “I want you to come this weekend to sit in on a group session with my other patients. See how talking about what’s wrong may help you.”

“I don’t know –“ he began, already hesitant on her suggestion.

Putting up a hand, she silenced him. “No fighting. You need to commit, Stephen.”

The mention of his full name stung, a friendly reminder that she was older, wiser – a person who knew what was best for him.

“Trust me. This will help.”

Something smelled good. Way too good.

It floated through his house, filling every crevice despite the absence of bodies. It made him feel safe, an unfamiliar sensation to him from the last few years. Following the smell, he walked into the kitchen. Robin was standing over the stove, a paper towel gripped over her arm.

“What did you do?” He asked, announcing his presence.

He wasn’t surprised to see her. More and more the past few weeks she had been spending time at his house, even taking up a semi permanent room upstairs.

She turned around, her face softening from a scowl. “Just burned my arm with oil. I think I put too much in the pan.” Steve chuckled. “How did it go?”

Shedding his jacket, he sat down at the counter. “It was fine. She wants me to do group therapy this weekend.”

“Do you think it will help?”

He shrugged, not knowing his true answer. Out of all the people in their little party of monster fighters, Steve experienced some of the worst. From getting beat up more times that he could count, to getting tortured by Russians, he was in desperate need of help.

But part of him still thought he didn’t when there were always others that would need him. His brain would spiral. To thoughts of the kids, hoping another gate hadn’t opened up; to Joyce and Hopper, wondering if someone would come back looking for them. But as the PTSD of his past caught up to him, it felt like the only viable option.

“What are you cooking?” he asked, diverting the conversation.

“Chicken,” Robin replied. “I mean, it’ll probably taste like shit. But it’s been a while since we had a proper meal, ya know?”

He nodded. “Yeah it has been…don’t worry though it actually smells really good. I think I’m going to take a nap before we eat if that’s okay? Just tired from this –”

“ – you don’t have to explain. I understand.”

He smiled at her – a genuine smile. Nowadays it felt like every emotion he felt was being forced, a sign to tell the others he was okay. But Robin had a way of bringing out his true self. She understood him in ways no one else in his life did. From the moment they went crashing down in that Russian elevator, they were linked at the hip - a single mind working cohesively.

Entering his bedroom, he felt immediate relief. It was a sense of safety, like a big blanket wrapping him in a warm hug. Sinking into the mattress he let sleep take him, hoping to not wake up from the horror of his dreams.

The weekend came sooner than Steve would have liked. He didn’t feel ready to walk into group therapy, no matter how much he tried to prepare himself. The unknown scared him, even when it came to just talking about his feelings.

Robin offered to drive him. He was reluctant at first since she had only had her license for a year. But the session was a couple of towns over and she knew how his mind would run if he was alone in his car.

Pulling up to the building, she let the car roll to a stop. The engine continued to rumble in Steve’s ears, his heart matching the irregular pattern. It was like he was riding up a roller coaster, the top never coming into sight. He shut his eyes, trying to wish the feeling away.

Robin placed a hand gently on his shoulder, grounding him back to reality. “Hey,” she began. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Nodding, he unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed the water bottle he had brought. “Thanks for driving, Rob.”

“Of course. I’ll be here when you get out.”

With one last breath, he said to himself, “All right, let’s do this.”

He opened the car door, letting the cold air hit his face as he climbed out. It felt nice, like a wake-up call he so desperately needed.

“You got this!” Robin exclaimed from the rolled-down window.

He smiled, watching as she drove off before turning back to the big brick building in front of him. It was a different place from his usual sessions with Dr. Ackerman. But as he entered the building, he found it felt eerily similar. Was every therapist's office decorated the same? From the off-grey carpet to the leather sofa, it felt like a place he had been before. It helped calm his emotions just a smidge.

“Can I help you, sweetie?” He turned to the lady behind the front counter.

“Uh, yeah I’m here for Dr. Ackerman’s group session?”

“Follow me,” she said with a warm smile.

The lady moved from her place behind the counter to open the door at the other end of the room. Closely, he followed her down the narrow hallway. His heart began to race, wondering how he could talk about his traumas without revealing the supernatural. It was hard to do with one person but a whole group? He might as well sew his mouth shut.

“Here you are sweetie,” the lady said, swinging open a door.

He barely had time to thank her before the door was shut behind him, leaving him alone in a room of strangers. Well, strangers plus one person he never thought he’d see again; Y/N L/N. She was sitting in a chair, arms crossed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. It was very different from how he remembered her in high school.

From the few classes they shared and the occasional hellos in the hallway, he knew she was a pretty friendly, put-together person. She was always kind to people, despite the unfriendly rumors about how many notches were on her bedpost. Last he heard, she was heading off to some Ivy League school after graduation. So what was she doing sitting in on this therapy group?

He wanted to talk to her, to reconnect even though they were never close to begin with. Her eyes were glued to the hem of her sweatshirt, pinching at it in boredom. Then she looked up, scanning the room before her eyes landed on him. Her breath hitched for a moment as Steve saw her realize who he was.

Wanting to talk to her, he stepped forward. Before he could even make it an inch, Dr. Ackerman’s voice pulled him away.

“Mr. Harrington,” she greeted him. “Glad to see you could join us. Please, take a seat.”

Giving a polite smile, he stole a glance at Y/N one more time. She was already looking down at the floor, back to pulling on the strings of her pullover.

As the therapy season began and people began to speak, Steve found himself barely paying attention. He went into this session hoping to get the most out of it, to really take in and listen to what people had to say. But that was before he saw Y/N. Shy and still undeniably cute, Y/N.

He wanted to hear her story, not the strangers they were surrounded by. He wanted to know why she was here, not in New Jersey, and what could have happened in her life that made her need therapy in the first place. Steve knew his past was fucked up but from an outsider’s perspective, it never seemed like hers was.

Unlucky for him, she barely spoke the entire session. There was the occasional nod or spoken agreement, but she never elaborated on any subject brought up. The minute Dr. Ackerman announced their time was over, and before he could even talk to her, she was gone. Out the door and out of his life.

Steve slumped back into his chair, feeling defeated. He didn’t know why he felt so down. She was never a close friend to him, even at the height of them interacting in school. He got up to leave, hoping to catch her outside when he heard Dr. Ackerman called his name. Begrudgingly, he turned around to face her.

“So, what did you think?” she asked.

“I uh, don’t really know,” he responded truthfully.

“Then I want you to come back next weekend. And try to talk more, okay? You get out of it what you put in.”

Nodding, he gave her a goodbye. He rushed out the door, hoping to catch Y/N before she left. But alas, he was too late. Everyone had gone for the day. The only person left was Robin, patiently waiting in the car next to the curb.

“How’d it go?” She asked, as he stepped into the car.

“Fine,” he replied, as he played with the hem of his shirt. “I uh… saw Y/N L/N. Remember her?”

“I think so. Pretty sure we had chem together. Wait, wasn’t she some big shot? Going off to Princeton or something?”

Steve shrugged. “I guess not anymore.”

Robin gave an inquisitive hum in lieu of a reply. He stared out the window as she drove, partly thinking of how much Robin’s driving had improved. But mostly, his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N and how he couldn’t wait to see her again.

Steve made sure to arrive extra early for the group session the following week. He walked into the office complex, moving his way through the halls to the familiar door with Dr. Ackerman’s plaque across the front. With one last deep breath, he went in.

The receptionist recognized him, letting him go into the therapy room with no problem. “Dr. Ackerman isn’t here yet but make yourself comfortable,” she told him.

“Thanks,” he replied softly, watching her close the door behind him.

When he turned around again, he was greeted with semi-familiar faces staring back at him. He scanned the room; no Y/N in sight. Giving a weak smile, he sat down in the same seat from last week.

He could tell the others' eyes were on him, trying to get a read on the newbie. There weren’t many people there but it sure felt like a lot. A boy, probably around his age, a slightly older woman dressed very professionally, and an older lady that he had to guess was a few years away from a retirement home.

“Hey,” the younger boy said, causing Steve to look up. “I’m Matt.” Steve replied with only his name, not knowing what else to say. Matt motioned to the woman in her late 20s wearing almost a business suit. “That’s Sam, and grandma over there is Louise. She could drop dead any minute so be on the lookout.”

“Matt!” Sam exclaimed, hitting his arm. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Louise calmed her. “He can say anything he wants as long as he remembers that I know where he lives, and I own a gun.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, his shoulders stiffening. Did that old woman just threaten him? Matt bursted out laughing. It was clear the group was comfortable with that sort of joking around. He turned back to a very tense Steve. “What are you here for?”

“You don’t have to answer that.” Sam told him..

“It’s complicated,” Steve said honestly. “I-I’m not really sure how I would explain it anyways.”

“Oooh,” Matt cooed. “Are you in a love triangle?”

“No I –”

“Family abandon you?”

“Well –”

“Oh I got it!” He interrupted again, sitting up straighter in his chair. “You got bit by a rabies infected bat and turned into a vampire.”

Steve tensed. How did he– it was obviously a joke. Not anything to take seriously so Steve decided to play along. “Actually, you’re not that far off.”

Matt chuckled, looking over at Sam who let out a small laugh as well. “I like you. You’re gonna fit in just fine.”

“Okay…” Steve said hesitantly, not knowing quite what he meant.

The door softly clicked open, everyone turning to look who it was. Steve sucked in a breath when he realized it was Y/N. She was wearing something similar to last week, a pair of jeans and a sweater two sizes too big. The room was small enough that as she scanned the environment, her eyes locked with his.

Steve heard the others greeting her as she stepped further into the room, but his gaze was still fixed on her. Quickly, Y/N looked down, her hair falling gently over her face. He couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Maybe she realized that they would be seeing more of each other; maybe she didn’t want to see him at all. He watched as she walked to an open seat, setting her bag down at her feet.

Steve wanted to speak, to say something to Y/N even though he didn’t know what. Cursed again, Dr. Ackerman bursted into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” she announced. “Let’s get started.”

Even though his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N, he did manage to listen in more to the problems of his fellow group members. Matt was from a couple towns over attending the state college. His anxiety got the best of him and he had a falling out with his best friend. Sam was an elementary school teacher who suffered from PTSD from her younger years traveling as a military brat. And Louise was grieving the loss of her son - a car accident from a few months prior. He listened in more, taking in the symptoms and coping mechanisms they used. Some of the things they said sounded familiar, things that he could learn from his own terrifying experiences.

Once Louise, recounted her past week, how it felt in the wake of her son’s death, Dr. Ackerman turned to him.

“Steve,” she said suddenly, taking him off guard from sneaking a look at Y/N. “You've experienced some loss in your life as well?” He nodded, not knowing where this was going. “Would you like to share a recent experience you had? Maybe the group has some coping skills to help you.

Suddenly all the eyes were on him. He felt violated, talking in front of people he barely knew for two days. But in the words of Dr. Ackerman, it wasn’t going to help if he didn’t contribute.

He began to speak, choosing his words very carefully. “Um yeah I guess I’ve been surrounded by loss, more so in the past couple of years.”

He felt Y/N look up at him, sympathy in her stare. It gave him the courage to continue.

“First it was my ex’s best friend. I didn’t know her well but she was last seen at my house so, I guess I blame myself for that? My friend, his mom’s boyfriend passed away, as well as another friend’s older brother…but more recently, a-a new friend. We had only just met… he uh, played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons.”

He looked over at Y/N again who was still staring at him, her sympathy replaced with something else - something he couldn’t quiet. Fright? No, recognition.

“I think of him sometimes– the new friend,” Steve clarified, glancing down at his fingers tapping against his thigh. “We only knew each other for a short while but he was a good dude…I see stuff around town sometimes that reminds me of him and I feel like I’m back- “

In the Upside Down.

“In a dark place,” he opted to say instead.

When he looked up at the group, he felt relieved. They all looked at him with a sense of understanding, like they knew what he was going through. Hell, after what he heard today they probably were.

“I see,” Dr. Ackerman began. “So group, what can Steve do?”

“Well, I find the 54321 method helpful,” Sam said.

Matt pointed at her. “I was about to say the same thing.”

“The 54321 method?” Steve asked, hoping they would explain further.

“Y/N,” Dr. Ackerman said. She looked up at her. “Would you mind explaining to Steve what this coping skill is?”

Steve looked over at her hesitantly. “Uh sure,” she said, sitting up straighter. She was trying to look at him but her eyes fell back to her lap. “You count five things you can see around you, four things you can feel… uh three things you can hear. Two you can smell and one you can taste.”

“Very good Y/N.”

She looked up at him one last time, her gaze holding longer than usual and Steve felt like she could take his breath away.

“And have you been using those methods yourself?” Dr. Ackerman asked.

She tore her gaze away from Steve, looking back at their therapist. “I-I’ve been trying.”

“Well that’s a step forward right? Effort is all I can ask for. Now Steve,” she directed her attention back to her. “Those were great examples, but not the one I was looking for.”

“It wasn’t?”

“What about your parents?”

He shook his head. “My parents aren’t dead.”

“But are they around often?” Steve froze. She knew they weren’t. Where was she going with this? Shaking his head, she continued. “Couldn’t that count as a form of loss? The loss of parental figures?”

He remained silent. Could it?

“Loss is not just death, Steve. It can take on many forms.”

Shit, he hadn’t thought of it that way. How much in his life had he truly lost? His parents, his friends, his reputation… Before he could even begin to process what that meant, Dr. Ackerman moved on to Matt who talked about his recent split from his best friend. But Steve was still in his own mind. His own thoughts drowning out the voices of the people around him.

Maybe he needed therapy more than he cared to admit.

Before Steve knew it, the session was over and he was making his way out of the room, the thought of loss still very much present in his mind. He didn’t realize how much therapy would actually help him. Though mental health was something more and more people were beginning to talk about, it still had a lot of negative stereotypes. One wrong step and you could end up in a psychiatric ward without really needing it.

Trying to give his brain a break, Steve shifted his focus to Y/N and how he desperately wanted to try and talk to her. But yet again, Dr. Ackerman stopped him. “So, how are you liking the group?”

“A lot better than last week,” he replied, watching a small smile form on her face.

“Good. That’s really good, Steve.”

“Can I…keep coming to this group? On top of our sessions?”

She nodded. “That was the plan all along. See you later this week.”

“See you, Dr. Ackerman.”

Despite the heavy topic of the session, the moment Steve stepped outside, it was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The air felt nice, so crisp on his skin it was like a fresh glass of water. He was reluctant to admit that Dr. Ackerman was right, but the lady knew her stuff.

Looking around, he noticed Robin hadn’t arrived yet. Everybody else was gone, or so he thought.

“I didn’t know that about your parents.”

Steve turned around to find Y/N leaning against a wall, a cigarette between her fingers. There was no need for introductions, they both had remembered each other – it was just a matter of who would speak first.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve began to respond, shoving his hands in his pockets. He spent so long building up the moment they would speak again that when the time came, he felt frozen. Like a deep in headlights. Making his way over to her, he continued, “Most people don’t.”

She nodded, taking a puff of the cigarette. As she breathed out, a cloud of smoke followed, slowly floating above them. Steve tried not to wince at the smell. “Want one?” she offered.

“No thanks, I quit last year.”

Her eyebrows raised, surprised. Slowly she shrugged. “That makes one of us.”

Not knowing what to do, Steve looked around, trying his best to find something for them to talk about besides the obvious. Unfortunately, he came up with nothing. “I thought you went off to college.”

“I did,” she said before mumbling, “Until Gary entered the picture.”

“Who’s Gary?”

Not responding, she puffed out more smoke. It was clearly a touchy subject and Steve knew all too well about those.

“I-I’m happy you’re here though.”

She scoffed. “Really?”

He nodded. “I wished we stayed in touch when school was over.”

“Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I didn’t consider us friends.”

“I mean, me neither. But I remember you being one of the few people that called me on my bullshit – could see through my lies…I need more people like that in my life.”

She stared at him, her cigarette still loosely hanging between fingers. He didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was searching for in his comment. Maybe the truth? To see if he was lying? Before either of them could say anymore a honk echoed across the parking lot. Steve turned to see Robin pulling up to the curb. She rolled down the window as she parked.

“That’s my ride,” Steve said, slowly backing away. “You remember Buckley? Another Hawkins High survivor.”

“Yeah, hey,” Y/N said, giving a small wave.

Robin waved back and said, “Oh hey, yeah we had chem together right?” Y/N nodded.

“I’ll uh, see you next week?” Steve said, turning back to her one more time.

“Uh, yeah. Yes.” She took another puff. “See you next week.”

With one last wave, he climbed into the car, watching Y/N become a speck in the side-view mirror as they drove away.

“So,” Robin began, “You finally talked to her?”

“More like she talked to me but, yeah,” he responded.

“She’s different from what I remember. Tougher, less open to people. I didn’t know you were close.”

“We weren’t.”

Watching as his house turned into view, all he could think about was seeing her the following week.

“Why are we going to the other side of town again? Why can’t we just go to the burger place down the street?” Dustin asked, leaning forward from the backseat of Steve’s car.

“It’ll be fun!” Robin said, arching her head to look back at him.

“What’s the place called again?” Lucas asked.

“Gordy’s,” Mike responded. “Stupid if you ask me.”

Usually in these types of scenarios, Steve would be the one to call them on their bullshit. To be the babysitter that steps up to make things right. However, because of more recent events, instead of stepping up, he was slipping away.

Robin noticed almost instantly, jumping in to control the situation when her friend couldn’t.

“Hey!” She shouted, cutting off the chatter from the back. “Yes, the diner is called Gordy’s. Yes it’s on the other side of town. And we are going because Max likes it and she used to go with her family. Right Max?”

“Y-yeah,” Max spoke up from the back. “It’s pretty good, I think you guys would like it.”

“I’m excited,” El said, getting an agreement from Will.

Little chatter soon broke into more chaos, the kids talking over each other without a care in the world. Steve wanted to say something, his grip on the steering wheel tightening in an effort to stop feeling the anxiety running through his chest. But still, it was too much. He needed to focus on the road.

“See? El’s excited,” Robin chimed in again. “Quit your yapping, we're almost there.”

Almost on cue, they turned into the Gordy's parking lot. Steve took a deep breath as the chatter in the back started to die down. He could almost hear his thoughts again, though he didn’t know if that would be a good thing.

As the kids began to pile out of the car, he felt Robin’s hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” she said. “Deep breaths, remember? If it gets too bad, do that thing you learned okay? The 123 method.”

“54321 method,” he corrected.

“Yeah, the 54321 method.” She watched as he nodded, taking another deep breath. “Hey,” she willed him to look at her. “You’re doing great. You ready to go in or do you need a minute?”

“No, I’m good…” It wasn’t until they were standing right outside the doors, the kids already packed into a booth that he spoke again. “Sorry about that, I can’t control it sometimes-”

“You never have to explain yourself,” she interrupted him, grabbing one of his hands. “Never.”

Steve felt this warm haze travel through him, his chest expanding with what felt like a clean breath of air. Sometimes hearing that there was someone there for him was enough to keep him going. Squeezing her hand back, he motioned that he was ready.

It was easy to navigate to where the kids had decided to sit – noise only coming from one side of the diner. Of course, they were arguing. It was about some movie that had just come out though both of the older teens couldn’t quite place which one.

“Zip it!” Steve shouted over them, standing at the edge of the diner booth. They all abruptly stopped to look at him. It was the first real words he had muttered all night. “Pick what you want to eat. We’re not spending an hour deciding like last time.”

Dustin smiled at his words. Sure, they were kinda mean, but when Steve got bitchy that meant he was alert.

Sliding into the booth across from Robin, Steve picked up a menu. The options were like any other establishment, and the kids were quick to decide what they wanted. When it came down to it, their orders didn’t really change much from diner to diner. It was the talking that made their visits longer. But Steve liked to mix it up from time to time, especially when eating with Robin - they often split meals.

So when the waiter came over to take their orders, he was happy they didn’t have to send the guy away. With El eager to get her waffles, she went first, Mike going straight after her. Steve guessed that meant he would be last. He took the moment he had to look around the diner Max had selected.

It was nice, much nicer than the other places they had tried but that wasn’t saying much. Midwest towns with small populations meant slow repairs. The floors looked a little wet but that was probably from the amount of people walking through with the recent storm. The coffee machine was out of order and by the looks of it, it had been that way for at least a month.

Besides that, not much was out of place. There was an elderly couple sitting at the counter top across the place. Slowly they traced their fingers along a spread out newspaper Steve had to guess was an attempt at the crossword puzzle. But his eyes slowly drifted away from the puzzle and onto the waitress putting down their food.

It was Y/N. Blue apron, hair pulled back to not obscure her face.

His breath hitched when he saw her. It was so unexpected, seeing her in a place like this. She looked so calm, almost happy. He hadn’t seen her like that since their senior year. It made him wonder what had gone so wrong, what this “Gary” did to make her dropout of college. And even though he wouldn’t find that answer tonight, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.

As she smiled at her customers, her eyes scanned the diner. Looking for more people to help, her eyes landed on him. There was some shock, the unexpectedness of seeing him, but she forced a smile on her face.

“Steve!”

He was pulled out of his daze by Robin, motioning to the waiter standing before them.

“W-what would you like to drink?” the waiter asked again, though Steve swore he never heard him the first time.

“Uh, just water, thanks,” he said sheepishly, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

The waiter, however, just nodded, walking over to where Y/N stood. Steve let his eyes follow him, watching the coworkers engage in conversation before Robin spoke again.

“That’s her, right?” she whispered, not wanting the kids to hear. He nodded. “You should go talk to her.”

He whipped his head around to look at her. “What? No.”

“Why not?”

Because my anxiety will make me fuck up my sentences.

“Because she’s working,” he said instead. “I don’t wanna interrupt her.”

“Please, it’s so dead in here she would probably thank you.”

“Who are you talking about?” said Dustin, trying to worm his way into the conversation.

“No one,” Steve said quickly. “Do your maze.”

He looked down at the kids menu in front of him. “I’m not a child!” he exclaimed.

“Maybe, but you love those mazes.”

He took one look at Steve before back down at his menu. Sighing in defeat he said, “Okay yeah I do…”

It was a new record. Almost an entire day without a panic attack. The food had arrived, the kids eating like it was their last meal on earth. Meanwhile Robin took the time to neatly split her and Steve’s food in half, handing him one of the plates.

He smiled at her before diving in. Well, more like inching in. He didn’t feel too hungry, despite not eating at all that day. That was the main reason for this little outing - to get him to eat food. But as the night went on and his food was still barely touched, he knew that something deeper was happening.

Ever since he started therapy, he had been getting better at spotting anxiety and panic attacks, even preventing a few which he was proud of. But some would start for no reason, even if he was feeling better than he had all day. Something began to rise in his chest and he knew one was coming. Apparently, Robin did too.

Over the noise of the kids debating over some new comic book, Robin asked, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve dismissed out of instinct. “Just gonna go to the bathroom.”

He quickly stood up, not waiting for a response. The bathroom was unlocked thankfully and looked a little disgusting. Still, he had been in worst places. Staring at the faucet he cupped his hands, splashing water on his face.

Sometimes that helped, giving his body a wake up call it didn’t know it needed. But unfortunately, it wasn't working. He felt his breaths become shorter, more labored. His heart felt like someone was squeezing it in their hands.

He needed fresh air. Yeah, fresh air would help.

Exiting the bathroom, he was thankful to see there was a back door just a few feet away. Pushing through he was met with the cold crisp air of the back of the diner. There was some air conditioner blowing so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts.

Picking what looked to be a clean wall, he sat down, trying to take deep breaths. His hands still shook, not slowing down despite his efforts. Nothing was working and he didn’t know why. What had even caused this panic attack? There was nothing he was scared or really anxious about to warrant this level of panic.

He tried to remember what Dr. Ackerman told him in one of their private sessions. Sometimes panic attacks don’t need a reason for happening.

“Harrington?”

He willed himself to look up at who was calling his name. It was Y/N, a cigarette in her hand. Perfect, just great. This is exactly how he wanted her to see him.

“Oh, hey,” he tried to say casually, trying to mask his attack. They could both tell it wasn’t working.

“Are you doing okay?”

He could tell it was more of a rhetorical question and he was too tired to lie. “I- not really. I don’t know what happened I just-”

“Hey it’s okay,” she interrupted him, crouching down to be at eye level with him. “We all get them okay?”

He nodded though his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest. “I-I can’t stop it.”

“Have you done the method yet?” He shook his head. “Okay,” she continued, throwing her cigarette to the side before fully sitting down in front of him cross legged. “Let’s go through it, yeah?”

“Aren’t you working?”

“I’m on my break. Don’t worry about that, let’s help you okay? Name five things you can see.”

“O-okay…” he said, taking a deep breath. “Um, my shoes, those plants ... .uh the-the ground. I can see the wall and- your eyes. Shit- sorry that was weird,” he said, curling back into the wall.

“No, don’t apologize,” she told him, reaching out her hand to cover his. “Describe them to me. What do my eyes look like?”

He looked up at her - there was no hint of mockery in her face. “Well, they're vibrant, they’re a couple of different shades…they're beautiful.”

She smiled at him, not disgusted or annoyed, but genuine happiness. She chuckled, dropping her head for a moment, thanks… Now, let’s continue…”

They listed more things, following the method. With each concentration, the hold on his heart loosened more and more. He couldn’t tell if the method was working or he just liked to be in her company. Whatever it was, it worked.

As he listed off the taste of his meal, he felt like he could finally breathe. Sighing, he let his back hit the wall.

“Thanks for that,” he said, closing his eyes. He could still feel the pads of her fingers gently rubbing his hand.

She responded, not letting go. “Of course, we have to look out for each other.” In the distance, someone called her name. “Shit, my break is over. You think you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

Slowly she stood back up. “I uh, guess I’ll see you this weekend.” She gave a small wave, not waiting for a response as she scurried back inside for the remainder of her shift.

As he watched her walk away, he felt the urge to call her back. Her presence, the way she calmed him down - it wasn’t something he wanted to let go of. Begrudgingly, he stood up, knowing that his friends would be wondering where he was soon. He walked through the same back door, passing the bathroom before finding his friends still in the diner booth.

Robin spotted him first as he made his way over - it seemed like the others barely even noticed his absence. “Are you okay? You look pale,” she asked.

Usually he would lie, say he was fine and tough through his emotions. But as Dr. Ackerman and later Robin told him, he needed to be more honest with his well being.

“I don’t think so. Could we skip the ice cream run tonight?”

“Of course, yeah. Let’s get going, I already paid for the food.” She turned to the kids. “Alright, let’s get you guys home.”

“What about ice cream?” Dustin asked, followed by overlapping replies from the rest of the kids.

“Not tonight. Maybe next week.”

With solemn looks on their faces, the kids slowly climbed out of the diner booth, ready to pile back into the car. Steve watched as Robin unlocked the door, letting them all climb in. While doing so, he turned back, hoping to catch Y/N one more time.

She emerged from the back with two plates of food, locking eyes with him. She gave him a smile and he already felt a million times better. Nodding at her with a grin, she knew he meant it as a thank you.

Turning around, he made his way to the car, hoping that another attack wouldn’t happen when she wasn’t there.

For the first time since starting therapy, Steve Harrington could say he was satisfied with his progress. He had another panic attack later that week and was able to not only realize the source of it, but calm himself down in record time. Well, record time for him, at least.

Leaving Dr. Ackerman’s office, he waved goodbye to the other patients before making a b-line to the bathrooms. His bladder was not happy about the wait. After relieving himself, he opened the door to leave.

“Do you usually hang out with that many kids?”

“Gah!” Steve jumped, not knowing that Y/N was standing outside smoking a cigarette like she was usually seen. “Jeez, you scared me.”

He began to walk to the building exit, her joining at his side. “Sorry, but you gotta answer the question, Harrington. It’s been bugging me since I saw you.”

Pushing open the exit doors, he said, “Uh they’re my friends so, yeah I usually hang out with them.”

“But children?”

“They aren’t random children, okay? But yeah, they're who I’m close with,” he shrugged. “Probably my only friends if I’m being honest.”

“Huh…” Y/N replied, taking a long drag of her cig. “That’s fucking weird, Harrington. Did you and your girlfriend adopt them or something?”

He cocked his head. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah, Buckley... Sorry, I just assumed-”

“Oh,” he replied with realization. “Buckley, no we’re just friends. She’s practically my sister.”

“Oh okay, cool.” She took another puff.

“Do you ever think about quitting? It’s a nasty habit.”

“Yeah well, what else do I have to do?”

“Go out with me?” She turned sharply to glare at him, her eyes going wide. “Not like go out with me. Shit, I said that wrong- Hangout. I meant hangout with me. As friends!”

She still looked frozen, giving him a look he couldn’t quite read. Was that happiness? Distast? Maybe she didn’t want to try being friends with him.

“I wanna see you outside of therapy and your work ya know?” he explained, trying not to dig himself into a deeper hole. “To not listen to Matt re-explain every class he has. I mean like, we’re not the ones in school.”

She laughed at that, probably understanding what he meant. Next to them, a car pulled up to the curb. It wasn’t Robin.

“That’s my dad,” she responded softly, walking over to the car. She turned to open the passenger door but paused and looked back at him. “Meet me at the Hideout at 7? Saturday?”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I’ll be there.”

She gave him one last look before climbing into the car, driving away. The smile was still plastered on Steve’s face and he couldn’t help but think that this friendship was the beginning of his new life. One where the Upside Down didn’t haunt his dreams, or where he didn’t fight any demogorgons. One where he could leave that all behind.

The Hideout. It sounded familiar but Steve couldn’t place why he knew it. Even as he walked into the place, he knew he had never been there before.

It was very grungy. The floors looked like they needed a deep cleaning and the walls were covered head to toe in band posters. A bar sat on the left side of the room, perfectly out of the way of the stage on the back wall.

Walking in, Steve opted to stand next to a high table, no chairs in sight. He figured it was just a place for people to set down their drinks. Alcohol, however, did not feel the right call. He wanted to stay alert for his first hangout with Y/N.

As his eyes drifted across the stage, he watched a band set up their equipment. There were only four of them. A drummer, bassist, guitarist, and a rhythm guitarist. It was probably some local band he had never heard of - he didn’t really keep up with current music.

But as he looked closer, he realized that they were familiar. The guy on rhythm guitar, he had seen him before. A math class? Was that it? Slowly, it started to come to him.

This was Eddie’s band.

The room felt like it became a million times hotter as Steve began to sweat. His heart thumping faster than normal. He needed to stay calm, he needed to control his panic.

Since Eddie died, he tried to stay away from all things related to the guy. Instead of sitting in on the last few minutes of Dustin’s dnd games, he’d wait in the car. Instead of surfing any radio channel, he made sure to skip the metal station. But there was no skipping tonight.

He recognized three of the members but there was one that was new. He had shorter hair, a lanky build and a tattoo peeking out from under the arm of his t-shirt. He didn’t look familiar - not someone he went to school with. But then it dawned on him.

He was Eddie’s replacement. Before he even had time to process that information, he felt a small hand on his back, a presence next to him.

“Hey, you made it,” Y/N said with a smile on her face. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time.

“W-whata- what…” It was like he couldn’t speak, the image of Eddie’s band moving on without him still in his mind. “W-why did you bring me here?” he finally got out.

Y/N furrowed her brows. “To see Corroded Coffin?” she responded, not really understanding what he meant. “I thought it would be fun, my brother said they’re playing a new song tonight.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Brother?”

“Yeah… Gareth? On the drums? I thought you remembered.”

No, he didn’t remember. He turned back to the band setting up. Gareth was putting down the hi-hat to complete his drum set.

Trying to stay calm, he said, “Oh cool…did uh, did you know Eddie too?”

Her face dropped slightly at the mention of his name. “Yeah, I did. He was a good guy.” All he could do was nod, taking a deep breath in. He felt her arm wrap around his. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m sorry I should’ve told you why we were here.”

“No it’s okay. It’s like exposure therapy.”

She chuckled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sure.”

It didn’t take long for them to start, the music blaring out of speakers that were too loud for the room they were in. The new guy, in place of Eddie, was singing and Steve had to admit it wasn’t bad. His heart still ached at the thought of the band having to replace their star singer. They all looked like really close friends back in school.

They played a couple songs, and Y/N pointed out the new one that her brother had mentioned. It was good, or better than he would have thought. Steve didn’t know how much he actually liked metal music but if he had to listen to any it would be this.

But he wasn’t really focused on the music, more of the person standing next to him. He tried not to stare but she was so memorizing. Singing along to the songs she knew, bobbing her head to the ones she didn’t. It was nice seeing her outside the context of therapy. He also wasn’t complaining that her arm was still wrapped around his for a majority of the night.

As the new lead singer thanked the small crowd, leaving as they cheered, Steve felt Y/N tug his arm.

“Come on, let’s go say hello,” she said, pulling him through the crowd.

“S-say hello?” he asked. “Like to the band?”

“Duh,” she replied, waving at a bouncer guarding the backstage door. “We aren’t gonna see my brother perform and then leave.”

The corridor backstage was busier than he thought it would be. The bar was small but it sure didn’t feel like that. People were walking up and down, some running like it was Madison Square Garden. He couldn’t tell who worked there, performed, or were just groupies stopping by.

Turning right, they were met face to face with the green room, a written sign saying Corroded Coffin taped to the door. Y/N smiled at him before she reached for the handle, turning it to reveal a very hectic room.

The band members were just chatting but it sounded like shouting. It all halted when they walked in.

“Y/N!” Garrett exclaimed, running over to hug her.

“You did great tonight, honestly all of you did,” she told him.

“And the new song?”

“Better than I could’ve imagined.”

Garret turned to look at Steve, his expression changing to something of confusion. “What is he doing here?”

“You brought Steve Harrington?” Jeff, the rhythm guitarist, chimed in.

Y/N turned to look at Steve confused. “I thought you said you knew Eddie?”

“I-I did,” he told her, suddenly aware of how many eyes were staring at him. He looked around the room quickly before back at her. “I- just not with his usual crowd…”

The band continued to give him a blank stare.

“I know Dustin, Lucas, and Mike? I know you used to play dnd together,” he added.

Grant, the bassist, crossed his arms. “You know Henderson?” he asked.

Steve nodded. “He’s like a little brother to me.”

They stared in silence at him and what was probably five seconds felt like eternity. It wasn’t until Jeff shrugged and spoke up that Steve realized his heart rate was quickening.

“I guess you're okay then,” Jeff said, “As long as you don’t try to shove us into lockers.”

If Jeff didn’t chuckled he would have if he was serious. His laugh rippled throughout the room, breaking the tension and it was like life started again. Joints were lit, drinks were poured, and Steve’s past was left forgotten.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asked. He walked next to Y/N in the cold, night air, the only sound audible coming from the shuffling of their shoes.

“Sure,” she said, reaching into her pocket to grab a cigarette.

“That first time we talked, like at Dr Ackerman’s…you mentioned someone named Gary.” He felt her stiffen next to him, a slight stutter in her step. “Who was he?”

Dropping her head to the unlit cigarette, she decided to shove it back into her pocket. He instantly regretted asking.

Apologizing, he said, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, it’s okay…” she waved off. “Exposure therapy, right?” she said, repeating his words from earlier in the night, letting him know it was okay. “Gary was my neighbor in my freshman year dorms. We hit it off really quick and started to date.”

She looked at the ground as she talked, hands shoved into her pockets. Steve however, couldn’t take his gaze off her.

“He was fine, uh, a good boyfriend. Well, at first…” she took a pause, almost long enough that he was thinking he should say something.

Luckily, she continued. “He stumbled into my room really drunk one night…tried to take advantage of me.” She shrugged, actually shrugged, like what she just told him was nothing. “I pushed him off me and he went blabbing to everyone that I was an attention seeking whore. All my friends stopped talking to me, even my roommate…and the administration wouldn’t do anything about it even though he, you know…”

She trailed off as she kicked a rock with her shoe and Steve could feel his heart breaking into a million pieces. How could someone, anyone, do that sort of thing? Not even when he was considered King Steve would he force himself onto a girl.

Y/N sighed. “It was like high school was repeating itself, you know? I didn’t get to have my fresh start.”

He nodded, trying to understand what she went through. They never ran in the same circles in high school, but it was hard not to hear the rumors going around about who she was sleeping with. He assumed Billy was the one to start them and let it be. Looking back, he wished he had stood up for her.

“It sucks,” he began warily, not knowing if it was okay to speak. When she looked up at him, it gave him the courage to continue. “When other people decide who they think you are. I-I mean, I didn’t go through that but I do have problems with the way people perceive me, my reputation.”

“I-I mean that’s when all my panic attacks started I just- I couldn’t stay there. It’s so stupid…”

“It’s not!” Steve reassured her. “Not stupid in the slightest. I would have left too if it were me. I mean, I didn’t even get into college. There was nowhere for me to run.” The more he began to speak of his own problems, the more anxious he became. “Not that what I went through was worse than you, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to turn the conversation on to me-”

“-No, Steve, it’s okay. I get it, you’re just trying to relate to me.” He nodded - it was like she took the words right out of his mouth. “Could we go back to yours? If I remember those high school parties correctly, you have a pool.”

“Sure. Y-yeah cool,” he blubbered. He couldn’t remember the last time talking to a girl made him anxious like this. Trying to catch his cool, they headed toward Loch Nora.

“The back door should be unlocked,” Steve informed Y/N as they approached his house.

It wasn’t a far walk from the bus stop they got off on and he could still see his car parked in the driveway - but only his car. Robin had told him ahead of time that she was going to sleep at her own home for once that week - her parents wanting to see more of her.

“Wow, it’s exactly how I remembered it,” Y/N commented as he opened the back gate.

He looked back at her. “You remember what my house looks like?”

Shrugging, she said, “Like I said, I went to a couple of your parties.” The pool’s lights illuminated the otherwise dark backyard, steam rising from its surface. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”

Without warning, Y/N pulled her shirt off, moving to pull down her pants. Steve’s eyes went wide, turning around to give her privacy. “What are you doing?”

“Getting in your pool? I don’t know about you, Harrington, but I don’t carry a bathing suit with me.”

“I guess…” Steve said, suddenly unsure of their plan.

It was just like a bikini right? Only it felt so much more intimate. He heard a splash from behind him, a gasp as she rose to the surface for air.

“You coming in?”

Slowly he turned around facing her as she grazed her hands over the surface of the water. She looked so majestic with her hair slicked back. He felt like deer in headlights as he looked at her. He could go inside, grab one of the many swimming trunks he had in his closet. But instead, he opted to strip down to his boxers, leveling the playing field.

He could tell she was surprised, not thinking he would do the same thing as her. But nonetheless he jumped right in. The splash completely covered her but she didn’t seem to mind, already dunking her head moments before. When he rose to the surface, he inhaled deeply.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, wiping water from her eyes.

“You were already wet!” He retorted.

Without warning, she lunged herself at him. Steve felt as she collided with his chest, sending him falling back into the water, taking her with him. He barely had enough time to breathe before he felt himself submerged back under the surface. On instinct, an arm wrapped around her midsection, balancing her against him as he used his legs to push them back up for air.

Breaking the surface tension, he felt Y/N cling to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she tried to balance against his bent knee. They were both gasping for air, taking a moment to recover. But the moment she looked up at him, those beautiful eyes he stared into at the diner, it was like a damn broke.

She smiled, letting out a giggle and he too couldn’t keep a straight face. As her face buried in his neck he asked, “What was that for?”

“I don’t know, it looked like you needed to have fun,” she responded.

“So you pushed me.”

Y/N lifted her head from his neck, her hands still around his neck. “You’re a very pushable person.”

“Oh am I?”

“Definitely.” She giggled, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “I could stay like this forever.”

Steve smiled, his cheeks getting warmer. “Me too. It’s like a little pocket out of time. We don’t have to think about the future.”

“Or the past…” She was silent for a second, her fingers still moving and Steve tried his best to stay still. A beautiful girl was practically sitting on his lap and he was trying to hard to not fuck it up.

“That first session, you talked about all the loss you’ve been around. Is there a reason for that?”

“Interdimensional monsters,” he blurted out. It felt good to say the truth even if it was met with a laugh. Who would believe in another dimension anyway?

“Fine don’t tell me,” she said, letting her hands rest on his shoulders.

The cool touch of her fingers spread across him, down through his chest. It was hard to stop thinking about how little fabric separated them, especially with the way her fingers grazed his skin.

For a moment he almost swore she looked down at his lips. “I bet…” she began, tilting her head back to show her thinking. “That you have daddy issues.”

“Who doesn’t?”

She giggled, her forehead tipping forward, almost touching his. A piece of hair fell across her face and without thinking he reached up to brush it away. Y/N looked up at him, their eyes meeting as he softly pushed the strand behind her ear.

This time, he knew for certain, she had looked at his lips, right after he did the same.

The little space left between them closed as Y/N leaned forward, capturing his mouth. It was softer than he would had thought. Her rough exterior not matching her tender touch. He felt her arms wrap back around him, fingers gripping his hair. He let out a moan, tightening the grip he had on her waist.

She pulled back for a moment, only to tilt her head to the other side, her lips crashing back down on his. A small whimper let out from her mouth and Steve felt like he died and went to heaven. He wanted to hear it again, to be the only one that made her sound that way. It was intoxicating, like a vampire thirsting for blood.

He let his kisses trail down her cheek, reattaching himself to her throat. She moaned even louder and he never wanted to let go.

“That feels nice,” she said, breathlessly. The grip on his hair grew tighter but he didn’t mind. She could poke, pull, or prod, any part of him and he would let her.

“You feel nice.”

Without meaning too, she pressed down on his lap. And even through their underwear and the water of the pool, Steve felt ecstatic. He detached himself from her neck gasping at the pressure.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmured to himself but it might have been louder than he expected.

Y/N looked up at him with a smile. But as her eyes found his, Steve was confused as to why it started to vanish. Detaching herself from him, he watched as she floated away until her back hit the pool wall.

Something was wrong, he just knew it. Was it something he did or said? Was it the kiss?

“I should probably go,” she told him, pulling herself out of the pool.

“Oh,” he said in surprise. Why the rush to leave so quickly? “Okay…”

As he joined her by the lounging chairs, he watched as she tried to put a leg through her pants.

“Wait,” he stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him before straightening her back. “Don’t put your clothes over your wet ones.”

“How else would I-“

He interrupted her, knowing if he didn’t say what was in his mind he’d lose the courage to say it.

“-you can stay. Like, stay over?”

Why was he this nervous? He had plenty of girls over before. But with her, things felt different. Y/N raised her eyebrows at his comment.

“If you want to,” he rushed out to say. “You could take a shower, I could dry your clothes and-“

“Okay,” she spoke over him.

It felt like all the air left his body. “Yeah?” He asked again for reassurance. Slowly she nodded, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Okay yeah. Cool, um…this way.”

Steve’s hands twitched nervously as he sat on his bed. Y/N was in the shower, due to come out any minute. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a girl over before. Just that the last person to sleep in his bed broke his heart. They had shared a space, gotten warm together under his blankets, baked in the morning sun. It held more meaning to him than he realized before.

As he clutched his hands, trying to calm himself down, the door creaked open. He looked up, watching as Y/N hesitantly peered in. As soon as he saw her face, it was like there was a calm that washed over him. The idea of having someone sleep in his bed filled him with anxiety, but when he saw Y/N it all faded away. He wanted her next to him, he wanted to share his space with her.

Closing the door behind her, Y/N stood awkwardly across the room. But Steve couldn’t help but smile. She looked so cute in his clothes, the fabric clinging to her skin in ways that left little to the imagination.

“I left the towel in the laundry room,” she said. “I hope that was okay.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, being pulled from his thoughts. “Yup that’s okay. I already started the load on drying your clothes.”

“Cool,” she said, intertwining her fingers in front of her.

Steve motioned to his bed. “Do you prefer a side or-”

She shook her head. “Nope. I-I’m fine with either.”

Steve hummed an agreement, moving to take the ride side of the bed. He watched her join on the other side as he pushed the covers back. They both had romantic experiences; both sleeping with someone else in their bed. But in the moment, it felt like they were little kids again.

Steve carefully covered both of them, sinking back down into his mattress. He tried not to touch her, to give her space after what happened in the pool. And with her past, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Starting at the ceiling he heard Y/N sigh. Turning his head he could see her covering her face.

“Are you okay?” He asked, turning to face her. “D-do you want to sleep in my parents room? They’re not home-”

“No, this is perfectly fine just,” she dropped her hands onto her chest as she stared up, not meeting his gaze. He could see her eyes getting watery, a tear on the verge of falling. “I-I don’t wanna do anything with you like- sexually. And I’m sorry if that’s blunt but after everything with Gary-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her to try and show her this was a safe space. “I wasn’t expecting to, honestly.”

She turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” she asked, not convinced.

“Really,” he replied. “I haven’t really been the same since Nance and I broke up and- nevermind it’s not important. I could leave if this is too much.”

“No I want you here I really do I’m just…confused. I don’t know.”

She buried her head in her hands again, probably to stop him from seeing her start to cry. Steve ached for her. To see her like this, to know that this was the fault of another person. That a person could do that to someone else.

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he told her, moving the comforter aside. “That way we won’t be alone but we can have our space.”

She looked back at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “No, I don't wanna make you sleep on the floor in your own room.”

“It’s nothing really,” he dismissed, grabbing his pillow and a spare blanket that was thrown across his desk chair. “Trust me, I’ve slept in worse places than on a rugged floor.”

“If I wasn’t a mess right now I’d ask you to elaborate.”

He fluffed his pillow, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. Y/N peered over the bed, still unsure of the sleeping arrangement though he could tell it was putting her more at ease.

“A conversation for another time,” he said and he swore he could see a smile on his face.

“Okay,” she said softly, her head disappearing as she laid back down on the bed.

There was silence for a moment and Steve thought that she had fallen asleep. But her soft voice glided through the air.

“Steve?” she asked.

“Yeah?”

There was another beat. Another moment of silence before he heard her whisper, “Thank you.”

Even on the floor of his room, the sun found a way to shine on his face. The warm light slowly woke him up, making him rub his eyes in an attempt to not blind himself. He almost forgot he was on the floor of his room until he rolled over to open his nightside drawer, feeling his hand brush against the floor instead.

As his eyes came into focus, he willed himself to sit up. Why was he on the floor again? Right, Y/N. Beautiful Y/N who should be asleep on his bed. But as he leaned his head up to see over the edge of the mattress, he was met with an empty bed. The covers were made neatly, all pillows back in place, as if no one had even slept there the night before.

Steve rubbed his eyes, like if he cleared himself from his sleepy haze she would materialize in his room. But as his eyes began to focus again, he found he was still alone. Grunting, he stood up, pulling the pillow and blanket he had used with him. He looked around the room and it seemed that nothing was out of place.

Did he imagine last night? Did he feel so alone that he willed himself to believe that Y/N actually slept over? His eyes continued to scan for anything out of place, a breath of relief when they landed on his dresser.

The clothes he had lent her were neatly stacked on his desk and if he had to guess, her drying clothes in the laundry room would be gone. So he hadn’t imagined it. What happened? Why was she in such a rush to leave?

Maybe she regretted the night before, thinking he hadn’t changed since his days at King Steve. Perhaps the kiss was too much and she regretted it. Steve’s mind spiraled down a dark hole he knew too well. If he didn’t stop now, he would trigger another panic attack.

Taking a moment before getting ready for the day, he sat down on his bed, closing his eyes. He just needed to breathe. In and out, in and out. Over and over again he focused on his breath, letting all his energy go into calming himself down.

He needed to talk to Y/N. To clarify everything from last night before it ate away at him.

Steve drove himself to therapy the following week. Partly because Robin was still back at her parents, and partly because he needed more time to think. As the time of the group session approached, he felt his heart rate begin to rise. His thoughts raced faster than they did when he woke up to find her gone.

He just needed to get there. Seeing her would calm him, reassure him that he didn’t fuck up. But as he parked his car and raced inside, he was saddened to find that she wasn’t there. Maybe she was just late. She had been late in the past, it was logical to assume she could be late today.

Matt and Sam had tried to talk to him but he only politely nodded as they spoke. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. Like lifting it to speak would only result in incoherent babbling. Thankfully, Dr. Ackerman’s presence let him stay silent.

The session began and Steve found himself staring at the door. He nodded, giving short answers when required but his attention was still trained on the closed door. She had to walk through the door. To join their weekly sessions. But as the topic drifted from one person to another, Y/N never arrived.

Steve was quick to leave, rushing to the parking lot to see if she had missed the session and was just arriving. To his disappointment, she wasn’t there. Not even a lingering smell of cigarettes in the air from her usual smoking spot.

He arrived early for the next session, and the next, and soon a whole month went by without her attending. Every session his eyes stayed on the door, willing her to walk through. Maybe if he was like Eleven, telepathically gifted, he could find out where she was. No, he thought. Even with those powers, it would be an invasion of privacy. And he didn’t want to be where he wasn’t welcomed.

Robin had been spending more and more time with her parents to figure out packing for the fall semester so Steve had been driving himself more often in Y/N’s absence.

Another missed therapy session had him driving home in silence, not even the radio playing to fill the void. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an irregular pattern as he turned onto his street. Slowly, his house came into view and he could see the vague outline of someone sitting on the front steps.

That’s weird, he thought to himself. Robin had a key, most people in the party did for emergencies. So why was she waiting outside?

As he pulled closer, almost fully into the driveway, his eyes adjusted. It wasn’t Robin, or anyone he had fought monsters with. It was Y/N.

Y/N, smoking a cigarette as she patiently waited for him to come home. He felt himself falter, his foot almost slamming on the brakes. She was here, more beautiful than the last time he saw her – though it was pretty hard for her to look anything but perfect.

The engine revved as he pulled into the driveway, pulling Y/N’s attention to him. Quickly, she stood up, putting her cigarette out with the heel of her shoe. Steve felt glued to the inside of the car. Their eyes had met, not separating as he put in the car in park. All he wanted was to get out and speak to her. But something in his chest tightened. If she had been avoiding him for the past week, she had her reasons. And part of him didn’t want to know for certain he was the problem.

He tried to move, he truly did. But his anxiety was ruling over his brain and he didn’t know how to stop it. Thankfully, Y/N seemed to notice. Moving forward, she opened his passenger door and climbed in. He never took his eyes off her, even when she turned her back to close the door.

Turning back to him, she weakly said, “Hey.”

“H-hi,” he managed to blurt out. Silence hung in the air, as he figured out what to say. Y/N continued to speak. “Sorry to show up at your house, I didn’t mean to be a bother.”

“You’re not a bother,” he blurted out. “Y-you’re never a bother.”

He was looking directly into her eyes, his gaze never wavering. It didn’t break until Y/N looked down at her lap and he could have sworn he saw a small smile form on her lips. A moment passed, then two, and neither of them talked.

Despite being uncomfortable with long silences, Steve didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel like his social battery drained when he was around her. If anything, she made him feel more alive. She knew what he was going through, one of the best kept secrets in his life and she knew.

“I missed you,” she said softly, still looking down at her lap.

“I’ve missed you too…Louise keeps talking about her one night stands and I don’t think I can take any more of it,” he said, gaining back some composure from earlier.

Y/N laughed, her shoulders hunching forward. She looked back up at him, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of his. As the smile slowly faded from her face, her eyes remained on his. It was clear she wanted to talk about what happened. Maybe she just needed a push.

“Do you…wanna talk about it?” Steve asked.

She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know it’s just – when I woke up in your room, my mind immediately went back to Gary.” She paused for a moment and he let her gather her thoughts. “I just went into a spiral like I did with him. Like did I force you to kiss me? Did you really want me sleeping in your bed or did I coerce you to? What would people think if they see the town whore sleeping with the former king of Hawkins High just – it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said immediately, reaching his hands out on the center console. He didn’t want to touch her without asking, but wanted to let her know he was there if she needed to. He sighed.

“I didn’t expect to kiss you that night,” he continued. She looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek. “But that didn’t mean I didn’t want you to. You in no way forced me to kiss you…and I was the one who wanted you to stay. I-I should’ve been more vocal so you didn’t feel forced to.”

Y/N nodded, leaning forward with her hands on the center console, not quite touching his.

“If you want to keep seeing me, friend or something more, I promise I will walk you through everything thought in my head so we’re on the same page.”

She raised an eyebrow, some color coming back to her face. “Every thought?”

He nodded. “Oh for sure. Like how I’ve been craving a ham and cheese sandwich since I woke up this morning.” She giggled again at his obvious attempt to make her feel better. “And like how I’d really like to hold your hand right now.”

He stared at her in his car, the sun slowly setting outside, and felt the touch of her fingers against his. It felt like an immediate release, a tightness he didn’t know was there unfolding in his chest.

“I would like to keep seeing you too,” she told him, and it was like his heart was doing a million leaps of joy. “I don’t know if I can handle anything more right now,”

“-and that is completely fine with me,” he reassured her quickly, feeling a tight squeeze of reassurance in his hand.

“Thank you for understanding. In the future, if I’m ready…I’d like to explore that possibility with you.”

Steve gave her a big grin, not trying to hide what he was feeling. “Good, uh, that’s good to know.”

They sat in his car, hands intertwined like the rest of the world didn’t matter. Like their pasts and reputations didn’t haunt them like a shadow. For now, they had each other and that was all they could ask for.

Steve didn’t need some fancy school or big corporate job. Just someone who understood him, who knew what it was like to feel the things he felt and not be judged.

He was happy he finally found someone who did just that.

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @halflifejess @nix-rose @palmtreesx3 @cilliansnostolgia @sweetdazequeen

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 2 days

Text

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Previous chapter

a/n part two! Thank you for everyone who read the first one. So glad some of you liked it so much. 🫧🤍

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

warning: past trauma, scars

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“No threats, nothing," Azriel dropped the report down on the table. Rhys had been the one to go meet with Autumn’s high lord. Bringing back the reports of everything that had been happening the past three days. “Eris said that everyone still thinks she’s there," Rhys stated. They planned on spinning a lie about you visiting an old relative, but it was better if the people who had inflicted the first attack would be misled about your true location.

“This could have been a one-time thing," Cassian hums, flipping through the report himself. “Or someone is waiting for the right moment," Rhys links his fingers together, resting his chin on them. “Why her?”, Cassian frowns. Yeah, Azriel asked that too at first. You didn’t seem to be magically gifted. There was nothing special about you, as far as he was aware. “Eris said she’s a weak link," the spymaster muttered.

“They’re close? That would explain things," and Cassian was right there. Love might be the worst weapon to have. Once, it slipped into the wrong hands. Azriel let out a sigh.

“Considering how he delivered the news, he loves her a lot. I believe, besides Lucien, she’s the closest to him." If he was being truthful, he hadn’t given it much thought. Here in Velaris, he could leave you on your own devices for the most part, at least. He didn’t need to trail after you. There was no need. Azriel had eyes almost everywhere.

“We’ll figure something out. I will ask around to see if something is stirring." Rhys leans back, his eyes now fixed on Azriel, “How are you?”. Azriel tries to hold back to not roll his eyes. “I’ve been fine for two weeks ago." And he was. Yes, his left side still hurt. The scar was deep and rather long. Rapping around his ribcage. Not to mention that he had pulled the stitches out way too many times. “Don’t start this," Rhys says bluntly.

“I could be up at the camps doing what I do best," Azriel points out. Itching to pick this topic back up. “Dying in the snow?"—that was a straight blow from his brother. Rhys hadn’t been able to say it out loud for the first couple of weeks. The thought of Azriel dying had messed with his head. “I said no, so it’s a no. Plus, you have a new responsibility," Rhys states firmly, and Azriel knows that there is no use in nagging him any further. “Counting days till she’s out of my sight," he mutters beneath his breath, standing up to leave. He just forgot to mean the words he spoke.

Velaris was different from what you had imagined it to be. In a good way, but it still wasn’t home. The ever-green trees almost bugged you. It was all too alive. Too bright. You missed the deep oranges. The crunching of the leaves beneath your feet. Rhys tried to be a caring host by giving you an autumn-themed room, but that only left a bitter taste in your mouth. So even if you had been advised by their healer to keep all weight off your swollen ankle for a while, you still found yourself, pulling away the decorations and shoving away the autumn theme blankets, the little trinkets.

You tried to keep out of everyone’s hair. Choosing to take your food into your room. But the four walls were starting to drive you mad. You had tasted freedom, and you didn’t want to be back there. Locked up. Hidden. Forgotten. So when your eyes landed on the two males sparing in the front yard, you, of course, first observed them from your window. Watching through the curtains and then pushing back.

“You should be resting your leg," Azriel hadn’t even turned to face you when his voice found you. A slight smirk tugging at your lips. He had been avoiding you. Or maybe you were too full of yourself. Maybe he was just busy. There was no requirement for him to be at your side twenty-four-seven.

“You’re a shit bodyguard if you didn’t know that I've been doing just that for the past three days," you muse, stepping closer to the racks of weapons that line their training ground. Fingers l brushing over a set of onyx black daggers. “Madja said at least a couple of weeks," Azriel points out, reaching to rewrap his knuckles. “And I said that I'm bored, and now we are here," you purr, lifting one of the daggers, feeling out the weight as you twist your wrist. You could feel Azriel’s eyes. Watching you. Following your every move.

“Or you just wanted a closer look at this“, the male next to him, who you had come to learn was Cassian, smirks, gesturing to his bare chest. Abs glistening with sweat. Yeah, the view wasn’t bad. Autumn males, at least the ones you know, didn’t compare. “And I thought this one was full of himself." You hooked your thumb at Azriel, rolling your eyes.

He shakes his head, “Would it hurt you to say my name?”, "Yes, Mr. Tree, trunk up my ass." You give him the most obnoxious smile you could master. Earning a deep growl from the spymaster in return. Until your eyes landed on the wooden bow, neatly placed on the ground by the buckets of water. “I want to shoot arrows," you mutter, pointing to the weapon, making Azriel’s gaze follow suit.

He let out a small snort, “Have you ever held a bow in your delicate hands?”. That prick. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Oh, news flash, he is also a sexist,” you hiss. Rounding his side to reach for the arrows. “I just don’t want you falling and tripping once again, princess," he teases in an almost mocking tone. You step closer to him. You doubt that he finds you intimidating, considering that you need to look up to even meet his gaze. But your face stays ice cold as you point to the bow, “Give it to me." He doesn’t move at first. As if on purpose. Giving you extra time to look at him. His face. There is a light scar over his right eyebrow. It’s not all that visible. Unless you take your time to… but, your little daydream is cut short by a bow being shoved at your chest. You nearly lose your footing. And just like that, you are snapped out of your daze.

“Don’t start crying when you miss," Azriel says, too full of himself as always. Leaning on the side beam like a smug, fucking cat. Too bad you grew up among five arrogant males. Six if you include that sadist of a father. That’s enough for the amber to catch fire deep within your chest. You line the arrow up. Taking a deep breath. Eyes falling to the target at the edge of the field ahead. And then it’s muscle memory as you let it loose. The first one hit the bull's eye. A satisfied smile speeds on your face as you reach for the second and third. You’re petty like that. Not in the mood to give Azriel a chance to call it fool’s luck.

A loud chuckle fills your ears, and then someone is nudging your shoulder. “She handed you your ass on a silver plate, brother." Cassian’s laughter booms, and you can’t help but match his grin. “Choke on the dust," you muse, flipping him off as you twist away from him. But Azriel is quick as always, grasping your elbow as he spin you back. “Know your place," he says through gritted teeth. Nostrils flaring.

“Maybe you should show me my place," you mutter, crossing an x on his chest. You yank your hand from his grip, glancing at Cassian, “Put the dog on the leash." Azriel curses, making Cassian snort, before the general starts barking, moving to the side to tackle his brother. You shake your head, continuing to walk away. Only catching a faint warning from Azriel, “Don’t fucking encourage it.”

Azriel chose to leave you alone for the rest of the day. Yet he could deny it all he wanted, but the shots were clean. Not to mention that he was almost relieved that you had left your room. A burden or not, he didn’t want you just rotting between the four walls. So he’s not all that surprised when your figure steps out onto the balcony. A lantern in your hand. One that you carefully place on the ledge before placing your hand on the stones. Stepping on your tiptoes, leaning to look over the edge.

"Snooping", the sudden sound of his voice makes you jump, your elbow hitting the lantern and pushing it over the edge. “You’re insane. Absolute sociopath," you gasp, hand on your chest as you try to wipe the threat from your face.

“You’re pathetic if that made you scared," Azriel shrugs, stepping out for the shadows. It wasn’t pathetic. He knew that. If he didn’t want to be seen, no one would see him. So blaming this on you was lame, but he could excuse it. For now. “You’re a creep," you hiss, leaning over the edge to look for the broken glass, now scattered on the ground. “Who sits in the dark like that?”, you ask, shaking your head and pulling your ginger hair over to one side. Fidgeting with the ends. That’s a new habit, Azriel thinks to himself, one he hadn’t yet observed.

You just shake your head once you don’t receive an answer from him. Eyes darting up the sky. It’s almost pitch black. The last traces of orange and deep purple are coloring the very edges of the horizon. “The sky is beautiful here as well," you breathe out. Not sure why. It felt stupid to get sentimental with that crazy man behind you. “It is," Azriel admits, forcing his eyes from your frame to lift to the sky. But the stars only manage to hold his attention for so long. Before they glance right back down at you, Azriel can’t tell from your face, but he feels the wave of sadness crashing into his chest.

And not even a heartbeat later you speak up again. “I usually take walks with the dogs in the evening, so... old habits die hard. I feel the itch." It’s an almost bitter chuckle that slips past your lips as you speak. Azriel walks close to the railing. “I feel the same if I don’t get to work late at night," he’s not sure why he’s even saying that. Admitting something that you don’t need to know. Or probably care to know. Your nose screeches up. “That’s a weird thing to like," you mutter. Azriel rolls his eyes, “Stomping through the woods isn’t any better.”

The breeze picks up. Chasing the last bits of warmth away. Making you wrap your arms around yourself tighter, but you don’t step back. Don’t move to head inside. “So, you’re a working late and sleep-in type of guy," you mutter. Azriel realizes it then. You’re here because you don’t want to be alone. Force-pushing the conversation to keep someone else in your company. Flashes of the basement flicker through his mind.

“No, I wake up early," he answers, a heartbeat too late, and yet you’re still nodding along. “So, no sleep type of guy," you mutter beneath your breath. The darkness is now fully draping over you two. Hiding you both from the world. “And you’re a talk just to listen to yourself speak type of girl," Azriel points out, making you huff. “And here, I thought we were having a moment." He watches as you turn around, shaking your head. “Jumping to conclusions kind of girl too," he says firmly, and this time it’s enough to drag a little chuckle from your lips as your head falls back ever so slightly.

But the distant pain doesn’t leave your eyes when you glance back at him. “Did Eris say anything by any chance?”, you mutter. A part of Azriel considers lying. Twisting the truth. A white lie. But he can’t bring himself to. Too many people were already keeping you in the dark, so he mutters a quiet, "No." Watching as you nod way too eagerly at his answer, “Of course, delighted to get rid of the troublemaker," there was that pained smile at the end as you finally chose to spread the distance between you two. “Lucien is coming tomorrow, though," Azriel points out, your tense shoulders easing ever so slightly. You don’t say anything as you reach for the glass door.

“Are you going to sleep?”, Azriel asks, almost cringing himself out. What was this sound of desperation? He didn’t fucking care what you did. “Not yet. I will walk in the garden for a bit." You gesture to the fields wrapping around the house. Azriel nods firmly, “Keep to the upper parts; don’t go past the rose garden if you get by the white... ”, “Okay, okay, mother... Tie me to your chair and watch me wilt away while you’re at it," you huff, your lips thinning into a tight line. “I’ll finish some work and come to do a room sweep," the spymaster says in an almost demanding manner. You simply raise your hand to your forehead, saluting him with a quiet “Yes, sir," before disappearing into the house.

It took Azriel way longer to get through his usual routine. He liked his office tidy for his morning working session. So at night, even if he was tired to his bones, he made the effort to sort through every pile of documents. Arrange them neatly. When he finally made it up to the top floor, where your room was located, it was well past midnight. Azriel knew that he could just drop it. He didn’t have to show up and check the room. Yet he still stood there right by your door.

"Princess," he knocked gently, not really in the mood to startle you once again tonight. You might be small and fierce, but everyone has a limit. When no response follows, he tries again: "Yn, it’s Azriel, can I come in?”, but still nothing. He could just walk in, but you weren’t a prisoner per se. “This is your last warning," he says, waiting for a heartbeat before pushing onto the handle.

It was dead quiet in the room. He would have concluded that you might not have returned yet if not for the mess that your bed was. He frowns slightly. Following the line of blankets that lead to the fireplace. And here you are. Curled by the fire, all the blankets dragged from the bed. Piles of books scattered all around you. He didn’t know that you had gone to the library. Or maybe this was Nesta’s doing. In that case, he didn’t wish to find out what was written in them. Azriel scannes the room. His eyes fell on the pens and pencils on the table. A sketchbook. A strange feeling kindled in Azriel’s chest. He has a pad just like that. Kept it in his leathers. So if he feels the urge or if something captures his attention begging to be sketched, he could easily do so.

Azriel steps closer, trying not to leave evidence of looking through your stuff. It makes him uneasy just how close you are to the fireplace, but then. Flame calls to flame. He knows that he should turn away. Just leave you be. There’s no danger here. He knows it. But he finds himself stepping forward, kneeling by your body. He hasn’t seen you so peacefully innocent before. He only knew the frowning, tantrum-throwing princess.

Tilting his head to the side, he tries to drink your features in. You were a Vanserra. The resemblance to Eris and Lucien was there. But a much softer version. With freckles all over your face. Long eyelashes. Your hair was more ginger than fire-red. But then his gaze halted. Your left shoulder was bare. The very top of your breast... a scar. It was a scare that made him halt. On your collarbone. And then two lines going beneath your shirt. Azriel’s scowl only deepened at the sight of one more white line at the side of your throat. “What did they do to you?", he mutters quietly. But it’s enough to make your eyes snap open as you jolt up. And once again, there’s a dagger aimed at Azriel’s throat, this time from the side. The very tip pressing into his flesh.

“What the fuck?", you huff, lowering your hand. “That’s a much better aim. You’re learning fast, princess." Azriel tries to keep his face cool as he steps back. Standing tall. “Why are you here standing over me like that?”, you scowl, pulling the blanket tighter over your shoulders.

“I just came to check the room," Azriel says, moving his gaze to the window. Anything was better now than looking into your burning eyes. “And decided that you can just let yourself in," you say, pushing to stand up. “You were on the floor by the fire; who knows, maybe you were lying there dead?", Azriel bits back, gesturing at the mess you had created. It was embarrassing that he had seen it. No one was supposed to see it. A bitter laugh slips past your lips, “You wish that would be...", and in a blink of an eye, he is there. Inches away from you. Hand reaching for your hair. No doubt he had thought about just yanking it back but decided against it at the last minute.

“Don’t finish that," he says, opting for a warning finger once more. As if he’s scolding a child. “Or what?", you flash your teeth at him. Pretending to bite the very tip of his finger. “You love picking fights, huh?", he straightens, smothering his hair back. The slight curls falling over his forehead. “You love changing the subject, huh?”, you mock back in the same tone. “You might just be one of the most frustrating things that came out of autumn," and you can see that he probably didn’t even mean to say it out loud. But he did. And now you two were standing in the aftermath of it. Your hands curling into fists. “Thing...", you smile at him, “How sweet of you; ladies probably drop their pants for that," and here it was that cold, cold look on your face. "Out," you hiss, now pointing Azriel to the door. Dismissing him.

The next morning is rather awkward. Azriel finds you in the sunroom of the house. Your legs tugged beneath you. You don’t lift your head, and he says nothing. Taking his usual spot by the window to drink his coffee. It unsettles him. The silence. He doesn’t want you to feel like he’s some creepy stalker. Maybe you both should settle the ground rules. Talk about the situation. But once he finally finds the courage to open his mouth, the door opens. A gasp slips past your lips as you jump up, rushing to the male standing in the doorway.

"Luci," you breathe, wrapping your arms around your brother’s neck. The warmth he carried seeping into your body. “My little flicker," he mutters against your hair, leaving a couple of kisses on the side of your head. "Azriel," Lucien nods in acknowledgment. Azriel follows his movement. “I’ve got it from here”, Luci smiles at the spymaster, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“What’s going on?”, you mutter against his chest, refusing to let go. “What did Eris say?”, your brother asks, and it’s enough to make you pull back. “I don’t give a fuck about what he said," you grunt. “I want to know what you know," you demand. You have a full right to. Lucien holds your gaze for a moment before letting out a tired sigh, “We will be heading back for a bit." You shake your head, turning away from him.

“I will tell you as soon as I can, I promise," he says as he steps forward, holding you by your shoulder as he lowers his forehead to lean against you.“Why are we going back?” It’s a whisper, but blood runs thicker than water. And you need to stick together, as you always did. Even if you still don’t understand anything, “There is a public outing. He needs us by his side." That makes you chuckle, “I also needed him by my side in case anyone was wondering.”.

"Yn," Lucien sighs, but you shake your head. “You don’t get to make me feel bad for him." It’s selfish, you know that. But they had sworn to protect you, and this feels like the opposite of it. “He’s figuring this out too; be kind," Lucien mumbles, pulling your hands into his and squeezing them. “Come on, you’ll get to watch the joy on Azriel’s face when I tell him that he’ll have to spend a couple of nights in autumn," he nudges you, making you smile ever so slightly, “Now that I can get behind”.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @emryb

#azriel acotar imagine #azriel x oc #eris x azriel #azriel x you #azriel imagien #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x oc #lucien vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you

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bluehoodiewoozi · 2 days

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KIM MINGYU + "I’m gonna make him sorry"

Your boyfriend stared at you, worry and curiosity obvious in his eyes. You were almost tempted to put your phone on speaker.

“What is it?” he finally dared to quietly ask once he realised you hadn’t said a word in a good five minutes.

You shushed him and offered your sister some last words of encouragement and a quick, “I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay? … Yes, I’ll bring ice cream.”

The moment you hung up the phone, Mingyu perked up. You never were good at keeping secrets from him, so you sighed and told him, “That asshole cheated on her.”

“On your sister?” His eyes just about bulged out his head as his jaw dropped. He recovered fast though and soon the confusion was replaced with an angered frown. “How could he do that? Does he have no shame?”

“Apparently,” you scoffed, equally upset on your sister’s behalf. “He said he’s sorry, but she only found out from the girl he cheated with.”

“Sorry? He’s sorry?” Mingyu’s jaw clenched and his frown deepened. He took a moment to think, glaring at the wall as if it had personally offended him, as you gathered your things to head out. Then, he looked at you again. “Where does that jerk live?”

You froze. “... What?”

“Where does the cheater live?” You shouldn’t have found him so attractive when he stood up from the sofa and reached for his jacket, jaw still squared and hands threatening to clench into fists. “I’m gonna make him sorry, that jerk.”

Oh. You really shouldn’t have found that so hot – not while your sister was in the middle of a literal personal crisis. But here you were, a little flustered at the mere mention of your boyfriend defending your sister’s honour.

Processing your silence, Mingyu looked up and raised a brow. “I’m serious. Give me his address.”

“Are you going to fight him? Like… physically?” you wondered, whether your heart was beating fast from excitement or fear you weren’t entirely sure.

He shrugged. “Maybe. Or I’ll just yell at him until he cries like he made your sister cry. Either way, she deserves better.” He reached for the car keys you had just picked up and said, “Come on, I’ll drop you off home before I go.”

You could only stare at him, dumb with adoration for the man in front of you. “You really are the most perfect man I’ve ever met.”

Mingyu blinked, puzzled, before his ears started turning red. “I mean… I’m just doing my duty as her friend…” When you didn’t speak up, he quickly added, “And, I mean, you’re my girlfriend so that in a way sort of makes her my family too and I wouldn’t let it slide if this happened to one of my siblings.”

“I love you so much, you know that?” you finally told him.

He coughed to cover up a proud smile threatening to appear. “You’ve told me a few times.”

You chuckled and pulled him towards you by the collar of his jacket. As he came close enough to just barely brush his nose against yours, you whispered, “How about instead of fighting him, you come and help me cheer up my sister?”

Your boyfriend sighed, feigning defeat. “If I must…”

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu imagines #seventeen x reader #svt scenarios

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lovelytsunoda · 3 days

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common people // mercedes amg (v)

summary: baby merc has a magical brush with love at a college event....too bad she doesn't get his name, contact information or any way to ever see him again

pairing: platonic!mercedes amg x intern!female!reader

author's note: i'm back, bitches! y'all should know i use this series as a coping mechanism for some of the things going on in my life....just putting that out there. that's why it sometimes seems like baby merc is just floundering, but today, it's her world and we're just living in it.

"nobody is going to be at this thing anyways since its so close to exams, so don't even worry that you can't make it." baby merc laughs, turning down her radio as she tries to reverse into a parking spot at her college. "the parking lot is packed though, must be lots of late classes today."

on the other end of the phone line, doriane pin laughs. "i'm sorry still! we've only got a few more days to hang out before i have to go to zandvoort for more academy testing."

"listen, if a mercedes sponsored driver can win anything at this point, i will be happy about it because or car is shit with a capital 's'." she paused for a moment. "please don't let toto know i said that."

doriane laughed gleefully. since the addition of the f1 academy driver to mercedes’ army of teenagers and young adults, each one mentored by toto and Susie themselves, y/n and doriane had become close friends. closer than friends, almost. it was nice to go to work and be around another girl her own age for once.

she stepped out of the aging, secondhand mercedes she drove, locking the car door and tucking her keys into her pocket as she crossed the lot to the student centre. there were dozens of college students milling about, despite all the on-site food options having closed half an hour ago.

the student center smelled like fresh paint when she opened the door, a serene expression in her face as she wandered into the common room, delighted to see the electric fireplace going, the room filed with round tables full of canvases and acrylic.

the college paint nights had always been her happy place. no expectations, a relaxed environment. an instructor who didn’t care if you followed her instructions to the ‘t’ (or at all). it was a welcome break from all of the other crap going on in her life.

she took her usual spot near the front, donning the dollar store apron hung over the back of the chair and settling in front of the canvas, a chill britpop playlist humming from the in-ceiling speaker set.

the group had been painting happily for ages when he wandered in. with the blended background almost done, she looked up from her conversation with the blonde girl next to her to catch him tentatively standing in the doorway.

his hair was messy, flopping around his face. he had airpods in, and she could faintly hear the riff of a rolling stones song. his sweater read ‘elevating devices.’ he was a trades boy.

“do you have room for one more?” he asked, looking over at olive, the program leader.

“of course!” olive grinned, caught in the middle of doing a blending demonstration on her forearm. “come on in, I can get you caught up.”

she felt her heart skip a beat when she realized that the only empty spot in the room was behind her. the boy smiled at her as he sat down, clumsily slipping into the gingham apron. it looked out of place with his hoodie and sweatpants, and the visual made her smile.

could this be it? the day something in her love life finally went right?

all throughout the paint night, since she was two steps ahead of everyone else (you go to every one of these things, you begin to pick up the tips and tricks of the trade), she found that she kept looking back at the newcomer, and admiring the look of concentration etched onto his face.

whatever happens, happens.

you did not come here to meet boys, you came here for you.

but goddamn it, he was so cute! and he painted! he was perfect! hell, he listened to the goddamn rolling stones!

it was the end of the night, 'pulp' playing on the speakers as the last few painters began to pack up.

"excuse me?" she felt a hand tap her shoulder, and she turned around from where she was repacking her primark purse to face the boy in the lifting devices sweater.

she hoped he couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest.

"what are we supposed to do with these?" he asked, holding up one of olive's easels.

"they fold up." she said quietly, almost shyly as she took the metal stand from his hands. "like this. i come here all the time, helping olive pack up is the least i can do."

"nice." he said sheepishly, reaching for his own painting. "this was my first time."

"that's pretty good for your first try." she complimented, picking up her own canvas, as well as her car keys.

"can i walk you out?' the boy asked, gesturing towards the door.

"sure." she smiled, blush rising on her cheeks. she turned, flagging olive down and hoping the boy wouldn't notice. due to her frequent attendance at the paint parties, olive an dher had become fast friends, and she didn't miss the way the painter flashed her a thumbs up and suggestive wink as the pair left the student center.

"so, you a fan of the stones? i could hear them playing from your headphones when you walked in." she asked, trying to start a conversation, and hoping that he somehow found her interesting.

"a fairly recent one." he laughed, free hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

sweatpants. we can work on that. three months dating me, she thought, and i can get you into a snazzy pair of jeans.

"i took a history course on the british invasion as an elective. it's all about the stones, the beatles, the who. any british band with 'the' in the name, really. the kinks are my favourite."

"awesome. my dad is a big jagger fan. i grew up singing 'you can't always get what you want' when other kids my age were singing 'apple bottom jeans'."

god, she loved the guy already.

"what are you studying?"

"law. i have my last final exam tomorrow, and i'm actually doing some part-time, minimum wage office work for a formula one team. legally, i can't tell you what exactly i'm doing." she grinned. "well. i could. but then i'd have to kill you."

she'd been waiting her whole life to say that.

"that's awesome." worlds were burned for a smile like the one this guy had. it was dangerous just how strongly she felt after barely talking to him. "i doubt my chosen career path will land me anywhere near as exciting as an f1 team. but who knows, i might be paid the big bucks to fix a service elevator in their building."

"well, this is me." she frowned, pointing in the direction of her parking lot. why did she feel so strongly about leaving a guy she didn't even know? "it was nice painting with you. you should come to another one in september."

"yeah, maybe i will. are you going to the one at the other campus tomorrow? i might try and make it, since my classes are over at that campus anyways."

"i can't, it's right in the middle of my exam." but god did she wish she could. if she wasn't so scared of failing, she'd skip the exam just for him.

"right, right." he nodded, gesturing towards the residency building behind him. "this is me. it was nice talking to you."

"you too." she smiled sheepishly, turning around and beginning the walk to her car.

she resisted the urge to look back, worried that it would be followed by something potentially foolish, like an 'aren't you going to kiss me', or an invitation to get coffee (that he could then very well turn down).

it wasn't until she was back in her car, heat turned on and classic rock playing, that she realized that he might have very well been into her, and she didn't even get his name.

"shit!"

__________________

"i'm telling you, doriane, this was my rom-com moment waiting to happen and i blew it!" she groaned, face in hands as she sat around the round table in the break room, recounting her woes to not just her closest colleagues, but those she considered to be her friends as well.

she had always loved the break room. it was light and airy, painted in white with bamboo furniture and a wall of windows. sometimes, she brought her work laptop in there and worked at one of the green couches in the corner.

"you were so close!" doriane commiserated with her, placing one hand over hers. "babes, you got this. you'll be ready for the next stud who comes along."

across the table, frederik vesti hid his grin behind his cup of coffee. "hey, maybe you dodged a bullet. he could have been a serial killer. or worse, a premier league fan."

doriane snorted, and ungraceful sound, yet one that was full of love. "yeah right."

she had been over the situation millions of times since the she'd gotten back in her car, and she just could not figure out why it had never occurred to her to get the boy's name, or to offer up her own.

"eh, you'll get the next one." george shrugged, placing a hand on her shoulder as he moved to stand behind the young intern. "just look at me and carmen. it took me a very long time to find someone like her. she'd one of a kind, that woman. i'm gonna marry her someday."

"better get cracking on that one, george old boy." frederik laughed. "i want your seat, if the kid doesn't beat me there."

"they're not putting kimi in an f1 seat." doriane argued. "its way too soon."

"i dunno, bearman did a really good job with that ferrari. if he's the blueprint, toto will just follow what his mates are doing so it looks like he's keeping with the times."

the seat conversation was beginning to make her nervous, and she could feel the hives rising on her arms as she tried to remind herself that lewis leaving mercedes had nothing to do with her.

it was the timing of his decision, announcing he was leaving so soon after she felt like she had truly made a home at brackley. but it made sense. a man like lewis needed to go somewhere that could give him the car he needed to take home that eighth championship, and currently, it wasn't looking like that was going to happen here.

that didn't change the fact that it stung. that in a way, it felt like lewis was leaving her.

"y/n, do you know who toto's been talking to about the second seat?" geroge asked, raising an eyebrow as he blew on his tea, steam rising onto his pale face. pair that with the cardigan he was wearing, and he was starting to look like someone's geriatric grandfather (and she said that with all the love in her heart that she had to give)

y/n did know. legal had been very busy organizing and prepping meetings, as well as drawing up draft contracts and disclosure agreements.

but a non-disclosure agreement worked both ways. and, since she liked fucking with george, he wasn't getting a proper answer.

she grinned, sipping the last of her hot chocolate "no can do. signed an nda. expressly forbids me from selling the gossip to the press, or from telling nosy british boys."

"that's not fair! you're british as well!" george whined. "come on, it affects me as well."

y/n laughed, appreciating the light air that george brought to the conversation, instead of making it a somber affair about lewis' departure. "oh, would you look at the time. my break is over, and i now need to go track down some engineers and get them to swear affidavits."

fred looked at her with a confused glace, his head cocked to the side like a golden retriever puppy. "why? who's taking us to court?"

"nobody is suing us. it's time to make our cost cap submissions to the fia, and the engineers need to swear that they're telling the truth."

"so you can tell us about that, but not about contract talks?" george tried one last time to get an answer from her as she packed up her tote, bag, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her knuckles.

"nice try. good luck on the sim this afternoon, vesti over here says its not pretty."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @userlando @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @arshiyuh

#family are the friends we meet along the way series #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #mercedes amg f1 x reader #toto wolff x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #frederik vesti x reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 imagine #doriane pin x reader #Spotify

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 22 hours

Text

Safer to Kiss (part 2) - Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

read part 1 here!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Word Count: 3236

Summary: the day after drunkenly kissing your best friend and coworker, Spencer Reid, the BAU catches a case. Lots of talking with other members of the team, general group dynamic chaos, and ✨Pining✨

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, normal Criminal Minds violence, maybe some mild cursing? Mostly just pining teehee

A/N: thank you so much to everyone who interacted with part 1! I am so pumped about this lil series, and part 3 is already started 🙈 I love love LOVE hearing from you guys, it makes me so happy and inspired to continue writing. 🥹 also not my gif, all credit to the owner bc LOOK AT HIS LIL FACE

————

Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Spencer’s hands were on your hips. Suddenly the three glasses of wine and 2 glasses of champagne were null and void, because you felt completely sobered by the time your mouth pulled away from his. The reality of the situation hit you like a bus - you, in a drunken stupor, had stupidly, idiotically, irreversibly kissed your best friend. Right on the lips. There was no excusing it as a friendly peck on the cheek.

Your entire face felt hot as you pulled away, and as Spencer’s hands retracted to his own space. You felt wobbly - okay, maybe you hadn’t sobered up - and when you were once again leaning against the railing of the stairs on your apartment building’s stoop, you blinked a few times.

Spencer blinked a few times, too, as if to process what had just happened. He’d tasted like red wine, which you saw he’d only had one single glass of tonight, and spearmint gum. The combination reminded you of spring.

Your best friend tasted like spring.

Your eyes widened, buggy, as if they might pop out of your head, and you opened your mouth to say something, but no words came out.

Spencer spoke instead, with an earnest expression on his face. “Y/N-“

“Thanks for getting me home in one piece, okay, goodnight!” You rambled off, the words sliding off your tongue like they were on a luge, all blurring together into one, long megaword. You slid in behind the door and stumbled up to your unit before you could say another word.

You couldn’t believe yourself, replaying the moment on your stoop over and over as you locked the door, leaning against it and running your hand over your face. Spencer’s expression had been completely dumbfounded when you pulled away from the kiss. There was no doubt in your mind that he had been about to politely reject you, in that way that only he could do. I’m sorry, Y/N, but I think we’re better off as friends, he would say, simultaneously humiliating you and ripping your heart in half.

That’s why you’d cut him off, before he could say anything, before he could address the situation, before either of you had to acknowledge that it had actually happened.

You slept poorly that night, your anxiety getting the best of you. It was that look on Spencer’s face, how you just knew he was going to tell you in the kindest, most sensitive tone that he didn’t like that you kissed him. And your Nan’s voice ringing in your head - You’ll find someone someday, Button. You’ll be just as happy as your sister someday, Button.

You tossed and turned, and woke up with a violent hangover. All the coffee in the world was not enough to cure the aftershock of the night before.

Your stomach was in knots, a lethal combination of hangover ickies and irreversible mistake anxiety, and as you took a cab to work, you leaned your head against the seat behind you.

You flashed your badge to security and boarded the elevator to ride up to the sixth floor. The doors opened to reveal Penelope Garcia, clutching a stack of folders to her chest, waiting for you.

“Good morning, pumpkin,” Penelope flashed a smile, then grabbed you by the wrist, practically yanking you along behind her as she headed towards the conference room. Your head was pounding and while you loved Penelope with all your heart, in that moment, you wanted to throttle her. “You look horrible. We’ll discuss that later, and don’t even think about trying to internalize it and brush me off. I might not be a super magic genius psychic profiler, but I can tell when one of my love-bugs has had a wild night and I want details. Unfortunately for you, darling, you have a case. Hotch asked me to pull you directly into the conference room. Everyone’s waiting.”

Usually, when Penelope rambled on like that, you were able to keep up. In this weakened state, however, the words hit you like someone throwing putty against a wall, and it took a minute to process. You found yourself standing in front of the closed door of the conference room, with slackened posture and narrowed eyes. “Okay,” you managed to murmur before Penelope dragged you behind her, into the conference room.

You could feel the team’s eyes on you as you slumped into the empty seat. You avoided eye contact with everyone, especially Spencer, projecting to the room that you were not to be asked about your disheveled appearance and obvious headache. You spared a glance at Spencer. He looked perfect, as per freakin’ usual, with a purple button-up dress shirt and a dark tie over it. He sat up straight in his desk chair, as if last night hadn’t affected him in the slightest. You hated that.

Hotchner cleared his throat. “Let’s begin. Garcia?”

Penelope’s eyes lingered on you, fluttering from you to Spencer, and you watched as she seemed to resist the urge to say anything. “Ooookay,” she spoke, drawing the word out as she stood before the table. She used the TV remote to present the case’s info on the monitor. “We’ve got a local case today, my fine furry friends. Three men killed in three weeks,” you took a drink of the water in front of you as Penelope presented three driver’s license photos on the TV screen. “All bodies have been identified. Twenty-three-year-old Harvey Gibson, twenty-nine-year-old Kyle Moore, and twenty-eight-year-old Malcolm Greene. All three were found in alleys in downtown D.C, cause of death multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals.”

You choked on your water when you saw the last photo. Malcolm Greene, as in, Malcolm Greene, the guy you spoke to last night at the art gallery? You remembered spotting him from across the room, and thinking about how Spencer had said he’d gone on a date (albeit, an unsuccessful one) over the weekend, and you wanted to prove to yourself that you could be interested in other men. And then you’d gone over to Malcolm, spoke to him for an embarrassing two minutes and twelve seconds, and walked back to Spencer with a red face. And now he was dead?

Concerns about your relationship with your best friend aside, your eyes met Spencer’s across the conference table and the two of you seemed, for a moment, to fall back into your old dynamic, having a somewhat telepathic conversation with just your expressions.

That’s the guy…? Spencer seemed to say, his brows furrowed slightly.

A subtle bob of your head was how you responded. Yep, that’s him.

Spencer’s mouth formed a straight line, a mannerism that everyone around the table seemed to notice.

“Reid, Y/L/N, what’s going on?” Derek piped up, inclining his head to the side curiously. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

Spencer’s mouth opened as if he were about to spill the beans, but he paused, seemingly deciding not to rattle off whatever he was going to say. Instead, he gestured to you.

“Spencer and I went to an art gallery after work last night,” you sighed, feeling your cheeks turn pink. “I may have… flirted, briefly, with Malcolm Greene.”

Derek let out a low whistle, and you saw Emily and JJ share an amused look. Rossi was even cracking a smirk.

Only Hotch remained as stoic as ever. “How long did you speak with him?” He asked.

“Two minutes, twelve seconds,” you and Spencer said simultaneously, and your eyes snapped to his across the table. You swallowed the lump in your throat and somehow felt your whole face turn even redder.

“Some smooth-talker you are,” Derek snickered, and you shot him a glare. Penelope, standing behind him, smacked his shoulder. “Did you get his digits that fast?”

“I don’t really see how that’s pertinent to the case,” you protested, sitting up straight and crossing your arms over your chest.

“It’s just like any other witness interview, Y/N,” Hotch reminded you calmly, shooting the rest of the team a warning glance. “Even the most minute detail could help.” He seemed to realize that you were humiliated, and that the rest of the team’s eyes on you were not helping the situation. “We can talk about it later,” he compromised.

“So, multiple stab wounds to the chest, stomach, and genitals, huh?” Rossi offered as a rough transition back to the topic at hand. Across the table, you heard Emily stifle a laugh.

“Yes, sir. All bodies were posed in a classic casket fashion, arms folded across their chests, eyes closed,” Penelope reported.

“Sign of remorse,” JJ noted, jotting it down on her pad of paper.

“Any cash missing from their wallets, or jewelry missing off their body?” Hotchner asked.

“No, sir, all wallets were found in the clothes of the victims, presumably where they had been kept untouched,” Penelope answered.

“So, not a robbery gone wrong,” Rossi concluded.

“The disposal of the bodies feels inconsistent with the cause of death,” Spencer pointed out, twirling his pen around his finger. His cadence was quick and pensive. “Multiple stab wounds to those particular areas of the body indicate intense rage at the time of the murder, disposing them in alleyways seems to be a choice of opportunity and convenience, but posing the bodies is a sign of remorse, like the UnSub suddenly realizes what he’s done and regrets it.”

“Do the victims have any friends or family in common?” You asked, crossing your ankles beneath the table.

“As far as my preliminary scans can tell, all three men were completely unrelated,” Penelope said. “The only common denominator is how they died and how their bodies were disposed of.”

“Not entirely,” Emily pointed out, standing up and using her pen as a pointer, gesturing to the three ID photos on the screen.

“Don’t these guys all look… strikingly similar?” Emily proposed. All men were white, with aquiline noses, dark hair, and dark eyes. “In fact, don’t they all look exactly like someone we know?”

You took in a sharp breath, just as Penelope let out a small gasp and Derek let out a soft chuckle. “They’re all pretty boys, like Pretty Boy,” Derek laughed.

“So our UnSub has a type,” JJ added.

Derek smirked. “The UnSub and Y/N both have a type.”

Your face turned bright red, and your jaw tensed. You felt Spencer’s eyes on you for a fleeting moment, and before you could say anything, Hotchner stepped in. “Let’s get going on this. Reid, JJ, and Morgan, I want you at the crime scene. Prentiss, Rossi, and Y/L/N, come with me to the local police precinct and interview family and friends. Garcia, too.”

There was an array of agreements murmured, and everyone began to disperse. You wanted to shake Derek by the shoulders for his little comment, especially after all the teasing you took when you realized the man you briefly spoke to last night was now dead.

You were on your way back to your desk when you felt a light touch on your elbow. When you saw it was Spencer, you bit the inside of your cheek. “Can we talk for a second?” He asked, and you shook your head.

Pointing pathetically to your desk, you responded, rather articulately, with, “The case…”

“Yeah, I know. The case. But, Y/N, we have to talk about last night,” Spencer said, looking down at you. Even though you were actually tall for a woman, Spencer still had at least four inches of height on you. Maybe five. “I mean, you just, like, escaped from me the first second that you could. Was it…?”

You furrowed your brows, confused as to what Spencer was trying to say. “Did you mean to kiss me?” He asked.

This was it. This was the out. He was giving it to you, whether he knew it or not. This was the opportunity to take it all back, to say it was a mistake. You could blame it on the wine, on your Nan’s phone call, on Malcolm - what was he gonna do, sell you out?

The chance to save your friendship with Spencer Reid was right there, and you stood there and you looked up at Spencer with your mouth open, words ready to spill out, when -

“Hey, Reid, you coming, man?”

Saved by the Morgan.

You saw Spencer’s jaw tighten, and he exhaled sharply. You were still frozen, unsure of what to say, of how to say it, so when Spencer simply frowned at you and then turned around to join Derek, you weren’t surprised.

You ran your hands over your face, still reeling, foggy from your hangover, thoroughly embarrassed from the entire situation.

“Y/N,” Rossi’s voice piped up, and you turned to see him with an arched brow. “C’mon, we gotta get going,” he gestured for you to follow him.

You sighed, your shoulders slumped, as you joined Rossi. You boarded the elevator with him, just the two of you, to head down to one of the Bureau’s black SUVs. “What’s going on with you?” Rossi asked, furrowing his brows.

In terms of group dynamics, David Rossi was like the team’s mother, in comparison to Hotchner, who was most certainly the patriarch of the BAU. You loved Rossi. He was kind, fairly level-headed, and he always stuck his neck out for the people he cared about. He also was pretty funny, and could make a killer lasagna. All those merits aside, you so did not want to talk about it.

“Not right now, Dave,” you shook your head, leaning against the wall of the elevator, running your palms down your thighs.

Rossi nodded understandingly, but you had an inkling he wasn’t about to just drop it. “I get it. Hungover, in a weird spot with Reid-“

“I’m not in a weird spot with Reid,” you corrected him, and Rossi smirked, knowing he had gotten you to crack. You shot him a (mostly) playful glare. “I had maybe a little too much to drink last night. And I maybe had, accidentally, perhaps…” you groaned, rolling your eyes at the idiocy of your actions the night before. “I kissed Spencer last night. It only lasted for, like, a minute, and right when it was over, I freaked out and went inside my apartment, and now things are just, like, weird between us. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, kiddo,” Rossi began, and you pursed your lips. He always hit you with a kiddo when he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear. “As a person who has been with many romantic partners-“

You feigned a gag.

Rossi just chuckled and continued. “I think you have to ask yourself - how do you want Spencer to react? Would you prefer to bury this and never speak of it again, or is this the catalyst you needed to finally tell him how you feel?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What do you mean, tell him how I feel?” You asked, playing dumb. Maybe Rossi was just grasping at straws.

“Oh, c’mon, kid, we’ve all seen how you look at each other. The only person who doesn’t know that you’re in love with Spencer is, well, Spencer.”

You felt your entire face flush. “You’re not serious,” you chuckled in disbelief.

Rossi looked at you and batted his eyelashes in a very feminine expression. The expression dropped and he said, “You make this lovestruck school girl expression at him at least once a day.”

“I do not!” You crossed your arms over your chest defensively, just as the elevator dinged, signaling your arrival to the Quantico lobby.

“Yeah, kid, you do. It’s pretty cute, actually. You’re like two lovesick puppies, chasing each other’s tails.”

“He does not think of me like that, Rossi,” you insisted indignantly, your voice taking a more hushed tone as the two of you walked at the same quick pace through the lobby, and outside towards the garage of Bureau vehicles.

The sun hit your face just as Rossi spoke again. “You’re such a good profiler, Y/N. How do you not see it?”

You decided not to dignify Rossi’s opinion with a response. Rather, you just shook your head and continued towards the garage to meet up with Prentiss and Garcia.

When you arrived at the police precinct, Garcia set up in the conference room, and you, Emily and Rossi each took turns interviewing the next of kin for the victims. You interviewed the mother of the first victim, Harvey Gibson.

An art student at Georgetown, steady boyfriend for three years he planned to propose to on Christmas, no criminal record, called his mother every other day. He was a good kid. Comforting his mother, walking her through all the questions the police had asked her three weeks ago — it was always a lot. But with your head already fuzzy and your mind on other Reid-related things, by the time you escorted Mrs. Gibson out of the police station and thanked her for her time, you felt heavy.

It didn’t help when the team reconvened about an hour later, sitting around a conference room at the local police station. You could tell Spencer’s eyes were floating to yours every so often, but you refused to meet them. You were working right now. You couldn’t let the revelation with Rossi distract you from your job.

Penelope took the lead, addressing the entire team. “So, our original thought of the three victims being unrelated actually has turned out to be incorrect,” she began. “Not only do all three of our victims look alike, but they all visited the same art gallery twenty-four hours prior to their murders.”

“Not the one we went to last night?” Spencer asked.

“No,” Penelope clarified. “From Emily’s discussion with Malcolm Greene’s brother, along with tracking the location of the other two victim’s cell phones prior to their deaths, we can determine that all three victims visited a different art gallery - The Restful Owl, just two blocks over from where you and Y/N went last night.”

“So, the victims all meet a certain physical description,” JJ recapped. “Brown hair, brown eyes, early-to-late twenties, and all visited The Restful Owl art gallery.”

“The gallery seems like a solid lead,” Hotch agreed. “All three victims were interested in art in some capacity - Harvey Gibson was studying art, Kyle Moore worked at an art museum, Malcolm Greene was a collector.”

“Perhaps the ruse the UnSub used was related to a particular piece or artist,” Spencer proposed, wrapping and unwrapping his fingers around his pen. “We should get the security tapes from each victim’s visit to the gallery, observe who they spoke to, how they reacted to specific pieces. Maybe the UnSub lured these men to the sites of their deaths by promising them a deal on a work, or something of the sort.”

“Good idea,” said Hotchner. “Prentiss, Morgan, follow up with the gallery. If there’s a specific person or piece all three victims stopped to interact with, I think our next step is pretty clear.”

“What’s that?” Penelope asked.

“We send in someone who just so happens to be exactly the UnSub’s type to the art gallery as bait,” Rossi concluded.

All eyes, including yours, moved across the table, landing on Spencer.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert

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propertyofwicked · 2 days

Text

WORKPLACE PREDICAMENT - LN

part 2 to homesick <3 (potentially a part 3 incoming?)

warnings - none, just heavy on the angst, hurt/comfort and a cheeky bit of fluff

masterlist

the sun rose late, light shining through the window, illuminating the empty white walls. y/n scrunched her eyes up, the sun too bright, as she kicked herself for not shutting her curtains when she went to bed the night before. it took a moment for her to even realise she was laying on her sofa, the chair so new and unused that the fabric was stiff, uncomfortable, and digging in her side. she pushed her body upright, her eyes searching for her phone as her mind ran over the events of last night.

she’d fallen asleep in the offices, lando had driven her home, and sat with her till she fell asleep. no, she thought, shaking her head - he held her till she fell asleep. and if she digs deeper in her memories, the feeling of his lips pressing a soft kiss to her head as he whispered goodnight plagues her brain, pulling at her emotions. she’d promised not to let her school girl crush on a colleague get out of hand, but when they kiss your head and hold you till you fall asleep - what else is a girl supposed to do?

y/n didn’t dare to imagine the HR nightmare this could be if she allowed the situation to develop, so much so that she sighed in relief that she had to following week booked off to allow her to move in and settle in the new flat.

lando, however, was panicking.

he’d awoken several hours before her, the jet lag complicating his sleep schedule. he wasn’t sure how long he’d spent staring down at her sleeping form, legs curled up into her chest as her head rested on his lap. his fingers played with strands of her hair, tucking them behind her ears as he fought back the urge to bend down and kiss her again.

their close friendship was inevitable, everyone thought so. their personalities complimented each other well, the two of them could always be found giggling about something together. however, it was only in this moment that lando realised his need to be near her, his calm nature when she was present at his races or the urge he felt to always make sure she was alright was more than friendship. he wanted to know everything about her, her favourite colour, what she was allergic to, how she got that scar on her knee.

the reason he felt an overwhelming urge to care for y/n the previous night, and the strong desire he felt to do it every night became clearer and clearer with every corner lando turned on his way to the mclaren offices. he had a strong feeling it was the same reason he felt ridden with guilt when he prised her arms from him this morning, holding her head gently before lowering on to the sofa as he snuck out of her flat.

lando norris had a crush. a HR violating crush, that could destroy her entire career if he acted on it.

as he walked into the offices, he found himself face to face with oscar, who looked him up and down for a moment, deep in thought, before returning back to his face, eyes widening in realisation. until that very moment, lando had forgotten about the reason he had even been in the offices at 3am that morning, the events of the night returning to his mind. he hadn’t been home in between, he was wearing the same outfit oscar had seen him in mere 5 hours before, however his clothes now had y/n’s vanilla perfume embedded in the fibres.

lando shook his head at him, pleading for the australian to stay silent. his eyes darted around, looking for an empty side room, before nodding his team mate in that direction, silently telling him to follow him.

“so…” oscar started, closing the door quietly behind him, “how is she?”

“she’s… good?” lando replied, unsure where to start.

“and you’re in the same clothes because…?” oscar continued, leading the conversation for lando to fill in.

“i haven’t been home?” he replied wincing a little at how it sounds, “but nothing happened. she was upset, so we watched a film and she fell asleep on me.”

“right,” oscar nods, starting to understand. secretly, he’d always rooted for y/n and lando, noticing the connection between the two of them as many others had.

“she hates being alone,” lando added, still trying to justify himself, despite oscar never accusing him of anything, “the new flat, she hates it. too quiet, too lonely. she just needed someone there.”

“not someone, lando, you. she needed you there,” oscar replied, deciding to finally bring up the elephant in the room. lando didn’t respond, deciding to nod at his team mate whilst remaining deep in thought.

“and i wanted that. i liked that she needed me,” he said finally, looking up to see oscar’s face bearing a satisfied smile.

“what did she say to you when she woke up?” oscar asked, with genuine interest. lando grimaced again.

“she didn’t.”

“what do you mean she didn’t?” oscar asked, confusion written over his face until - “you left while she was asleep?”

“i needed to go to work and she just looked so peaceful and-” lando started, sighing deeply before his next statement, “and then i realised i wanted to see that every day. her waking up, getting ready, you know, like, domestic stuff. and then i realised i like her a lot more than i thought i did, and a lot more than HR would be happy about.”

“fuck HR,” oscar said, clapping his hands onto lando’s shoulders, “you like her mate, and i know she feels the same. do what makes you happy, worry about the consequences later.”

“she likes me back?” lando asked, smiling at the news, whilst choosing to ignore this new side of oscar who suddenly doesn’t think about consequences.

“everyone sees the way she looks at you. you could literally kill a puppy and she’d still look at you as if you hung the moon and stars.”

lando nodded at him, feeling the conversation come to a natural end as they left the room, starting up a new conversation about the meeting they had later that day.

lando decided he’d speak to her about it when she came in for her shift later, he started planning how he’d ask her to join him for dinner that evening, or maybe he’d invite her out for a late night drive. but his chance never arose, y/n never showed up.

and he didn’t see her in person till the following week. he had walked into the paddock, his mood still low when y/n still hadn’t been at the offices, or on the jet for the race weekend. he knew she was ok, as she had been interacting in their work associated group chats, all the while leaving his texts on delivered for hours, and only responding with the bare minimum when she did.

had he gone too far? he hadn’t meant to call her angel, he hadn’t meant to over insert himself in her life. did she know how he felt about her and it wasn’t mutual?

he’d spent the whole week beating himself up, believing he’d made her so uncomfortable that she’d gone MIA, and despite oscar’s reassurance, he couldn’t help but be miserable. but upon entering the mclaren hospitality centre, he heard her all too familiar laugh, his eyes immediately darting around the room till it settled on her frame. her hair was tied up in a low bun, keeping her hair from her eyes as she conversed with oscar.

he walked up to them slowly, anticipating a negative reaction from y/n, but once again found himself surprised when she turned and smiled at him.

“hey, we wondered where you’d got to,” she started, “i need to take a few pictures of you both in the garage for instagram. maybe a track walk video for stories?”

he nodded at her, dwelling on her almost professional tone. she was smiling, but there was no friendly teasing about how late he was, no jokes about his hair being a mess.

“just gimme 2 minutes to dump my bag and im all yours,” he replied, smiling at her again before locating his personal room.

im all yours ran through y/n’s brain like a mantra that day, it felt like her brain was bullying her, constantly reminding her that he was in fact, not all hers. she’d spent the week thinking of lando, and only him. how he speaks, how respectful he is, his charming nature, his curls. he would be the death of her, and she could never have him. ultimately, she decided that distancing herself would be the best course of action. keep it professional, keep it friendly, keep your job - she tried to remind herself every time she caught herself staring at him for longer than normal.

y/n wholeheartedly believed the rest of the weekend went well. she got her job done, remained professional and kept all her clothes on when lando stepped out of his car, sweating lightly and looking as if the gods had sculpted him.

lando wholeheartedly believed she was being insufferable and childish. she wouldn’t talk to him if it wasn’t work related, always managed to be ‘busy’ when he needed to talk, and spent more time talking to some of the engineers than she had ever spoken to them before. he was seething. he wasn’t annoyed at her, per say, more himself for letting it happen.

which is how he ended up outside her hotel room, knocking aggressively on her door 3 times before stepping back and fiddling with his fingers.

when she opened the door, lando stuttered saying hello, taken aback at the way her hair framed her face. she was wearing one of his old t-shirts he’d given her after a work christmas party - it hung low on her, almost covering the small cotton shorts she wore underneath. to him, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“lando? what’s wrong?” she asked with genuine concern, her voice soft as her eyes widened at him. but for some reason, this angered him. how could she not know what was wrong?

“what’s wrong?” he repeated cruelly, watching as she flinched back at his anger, “you. you’re what’s wrong. why have you been ignoring me all week? i understand you were busy but not even a text back? and then, i see you in person and you act as if you hardly know me?”

he doesn’t know why he’s lashing out at her, it was as much his fault as it was hers.

“i had the week booked off,” she started explaining, noticing how lando’s face contorted from anger to guilt, “i booked it off so i had a week to move in to the flat and get settled. i didn’t text you ‘cos i was trying to move my stuff in, all whilst getting wifi installed and sorting out my bills?”

now, she was annoyed. she was giving him space, protecting herself from inevitable rejection. she knew she wasn’t being the best of friends, but that didn’t give him the right to turn up at her door and shout at her.

“and you couldn’t tell me that?” he argued back, “takes all of 20 seconds to put that in a text, y/n. i could’ve helped you move your stuff in. look, if i’ve done something to upset you, i’m gonna need you to tell me. ive been racking my brain for a week and not one thing is standing out to me.”

“look, lando. i’m sorry if you felt neglected, but i just needed to sort some things out. i’m here now, aren’t i? been here all weekend?”

“barely,” he snorted in response, anger still running through him.

“barely?” she questioned, “im right here? i did the track walk with you? i was in the media pen for your interviews? ive been here all weekend.”

“no, y/n, you haven’t. work y/n has been here, she’s been doing her job all week. my y/n is no where to be seen.”

her heart fluttered slightly, he claimed her as his own. she had to take a step back and remind herself that it meant nothing.

“i’m sorry lan,” she replied sadly, “i’m trying. i am. it’s just been rough recently.”

“i know, y/n,” he said, his tone softening for the first time in the whole conversation, “but im here for you. i want to be there for you when things get rough - why wont you just talk to me?”

she contemplated telling him the truth then and there, his sad eyes tempting her more and more every second she looked at them.

“i can’t talk to you about this lando. not right now,” she replied, pushing the door to close between the two of them. his foot stepped out, stopping the door from closing fully.

“y/n, i am in love with you. and i don’t know why or when it happened, but i am. and if that makes you uncomfortable, tell me to stop. but i want to be with you, i want to know your past, i want to be in your future. please, y/n, let’s just talk about this,” he pleaded, laying his heart out on the table for her to see.

“goodnight lando,” she said bluntly, slamming the door shut. lando stood still, his blood ran cold, his heart plummeting, and the hallway fell silent. he heard the lock turning on her door, and turned to leave. but then he heard it, he heard her sobs through the door, and the fabric of her t-shirt sliding against the door as she fell to the floor.

something told him to leave, but her door felt like a magnet, pulling him towards it, as he slid down to the floor resting against it. lando heard the way her breathing faltered, air getting caught in the back of her throat as she cried.

“y/n, i know you can hear me,” he started again, turning to speak to the door, “please, y/n. talk to me. what’s wrong? have i ruined this? ‘cos im more than happy to move on and pretend i didn’t say anything.”

he heard her sniff, taking a deep breath in as she did - he knew this was her attempt to regulate herself.

“i can’t lose this job, lando. i spent so long getting to where i am now - i can’t risk losing my job,” she said, her head in her hands and tears continued to spill.

“why would you lose your job over me loving you, y/n? that’s on me.”

“because i love you too,” she replied, defeated.

lando is pretty sure this is both the best and worst moment of his adult life. she loved him back, but she still sat on the floor of a hotel room, crying out to him from behind a locked door. he didn’t reply immediately. he understood her fears, he too had considered the impact on both of them if anything ever happened between the two.

“i love my job, lando. i love working with you, with oscar. hell i love everyone i work with. and i can’t put myself in a position of losing that all because i love you more than anyone else.”

oscar’s words ran through his mind on a loop - fuck HR, worry about the consequences later.

“y/n, please open the door.”

she said nothing, and his heart dropped once more, until he heard the click of the latch, and felt the door move from his back. he looked up at her once more, noticing that she still looked beautiful with puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. he scrambled to his feet, taking the girl in a tight embrace as he walked the two of them into the room.

“i didn’t want to leave you that morning, you know.”

“i know,” she said, nodding into his shoulder.

“i just - i panicked, you know?”

she moved back, looking up at him confused - why was he panicking? mclaren were never going to sack their star driver over a workplace relationship.

“but then oscar said something that resonated with me.”

“you told oscar?”

“oscar knew before i did,” he said, shrugging, keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“what did oscar say?”

“he said fuck HR. at the time, i didn’t see anything wrong with that. i knew you liked this job, but i was so ignorant to think you’d risk your career for me.”

“it’s not that i don’t want to, lan. im scared,” she replied, tears still rolling down her cheeks as her mind plagued with guilt.

“i know, angel,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead again, “i’m sorry for putting this on you. whatever you want to do next, i’m happy to do. if you want me to leave and never talk about this again, that’s fine.”

“i just need some time,” she said nervously, “i need some time to think. that’s not a no, it’s not a rejection. i just need some time.”

he nodded at her, not necessarily happy about the outcome, but happier than he had been all week.

“and that’s perfectly fine. you tell me when you’re ready and we go from there, ok?” he told her, raising a hand to push the hair out her face, before coming back to wipe away the stray tears on her cheek.

“do you want to stay?” she asked, pulling her hands away to twist her fingers around nervously, “we could watch a film?”

“i’d love nothing more,” he replied, smiling down at her.

he threw himself on her bed, as he always did, making sure he didn’t overstep her boundaries. this whole situation was new to the both of them.

“your hair looked shit this week, you need a trim,” she said randomly as she joined him on the bed, as if she’d been dwelling on it for a while. lando snorted, laughing at her abruptness.

“there we go, there’s the y/n i know - my y/n.”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked #oscar piastri #LN4 #OP81

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