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undercoverpena · 2 months

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a debt to pay

frankie morales x f!reader | masterlist

summary: you surprise frankie by coming home earlier than planned, answering the door a-la-fake-porn like, making him drag you to your bedroom.

warnings: smut. established relationship. praise kink. minor (and I mean brief) hand necklace. dirty talk. okay, frankie likes to talk kink. cowgirl riding for iwd. and the pizza goes cold (felt it needed a warning) wordcount: 4.8k an: to the wonderful, amazing @morallyinept - happy international women's day! i hope frankie treating you right is what you had on your bucket list for the day. but if not, just know you inspire me, and i'm grateful for your friendship every day. and ily.

Nothing should surprise him.

He’s seen a lot. A thing some could argue is far too much. In some ways, they’re right.

Frankie isn’t sure people who weren’t doctors should know the exact hue of red that blood is—shouldn’t know the pain from a bullet grazing his shoulder, catching flesh and ruining cloth.

Still, he found himself continually surprised—especially the night he met you.

Falling into him, into his life. Disrupting his days from bleeding into the next, knocking things off their axis. Change should be scary, but it was all welcomed, just not in a way he’d ever thought he’d earned.

Somehow, amidst the chaos you brought with you, you also handed him harmony. You made the corners of his world slot together. Slowly, he even found himself anchoring down to brick and mortar, and calling it ‘home’ for the first time since he’d originally left his for battles and fighting.

In time, even as months became a year, your things found their way to be with his, Frankie had assumed he’d seen everything. Happy to accept it, the routine, the complacency. He looked forward to lazy Sunday mornings with his fingers inside yours, toes curling; Thursday nights in a bar, watching a line appear on your brow as you scoured your brain for an answer to the trivia question.

He liked it, adored it.

And then you opened the front door for him.

Flooding him in golden light that makes him squint, before he finds himself reminded, quickly, he hasn’t seen it all. Not even by a margin.

Because you're not supposed to be here, due back tomorrow.

Your voice on the phone earlier muted, low, "I miss you, Morales," as he stares at your untouched, clean mug on the kitchen counter.

Yet, here you stand. All veiled in barely anything except bits of lace and sheer, a sight his eyes aren't able to tear away from even if he tries. Not even the dryness in his throat or the warmth emanating from the pizza box he's holding (attempting to sear his skin to his palm) is bothering him.

"Bab—"

His words are cut short, ended.

"Oh," you gasp. “Let me take that; and how much do I owe you?”

On registering your words, his eyes narrow, staring.

Doing so from one eye to the next. It taking a while, brain firing, ticking over, taking precious seconds as he remains out in the cold and you stand in the warmth in barely fucking anything, before it dawns on him. Crawls up over him as realises what it is you’re pretending to do, what you're reenacting.

Lips lifting, curling into one of his cheeks he steps in through the doorway. Almost over the threshold, easily able to take another step and close the door behind him.

But he waits.

Fingers twitch at his side, Frankie swallows, eyes dropping, tracing up the bare backs of your thighs as you bend over. Because fuck, you're something beautiful. A thing he always thinks, but finds himself reminded in waves as they crash into him.

Raising his hand, he itches across his chin, scratching along the wiry hair there as his gaze drops to the thin fabric protecting the last bit of your modesty as you and the bits of lace spread across your ass—

“I only have card—unless, I can pay you in another way?”

This shouldn’t be real.

You, like this. Him, standing like this. Not even as he steps inside, eyes trained on you—forgetting what words even mean—as you bend over.

A low exhale escapes, lips remaining parted as he fights to place his palm on the back of your thigh—stops himself from hooking a finger in the band of your underwear and dragging it down your thighs, bending you over the sofa, and burying his—

“I would really like to pay you in some way.”

Your words are almost lost due to the way his pulse has quickened in his ears, thundering, pounding. Feeling nothing but discomfort as his cock hardens against the zip of his pants as you bite down on your lip.

Brain quiet, no thoughts, all rendered silent by your appearance. Only able to shift enough to discard his cap, his jacket—folding it over the back of the sofa, eyes drawing out over you as he takes a step closer. Fingers finding his wrist, pinching, making sure this isn't some dream he hasn't woken up from.

But he can smell the present. The glorious cheese and several toppings, even if devouring the pizza are long forgotten. Because his eyes are raking over you, because how could he not—especially now as you straighten up, softly wiggling your hips.

"Is that so?” his voice rough, words catching. Letters clagging at the back of his teeth as though they attempted to glue to his mouth.

He's aware the three words are stained with want—a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips as you turn to face him, knowing it too.

But then, you always do know. Having long figured him out.

Like always, your eyes meet his in a way he can never explain, no words to articulate, to explain—just shared understanding dancing between the two of you.

“It’s only right,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fingers reaching out to trace his wire-stubbled jawline. “It’s bad of me to order food and not have the money to pay.”

He catches your wrist, gently but firmly. Pulling you close, steadying you with the other at your waist. Hearing it, the gasp, the briefest of indications you'd been caught by surprise, as he brushes his fingers against the fabric, all unable to stop themself. Half-needing to know what it feels like, as his thumb smooths out, taking his time—forcing the tension to buzz in the air as he leans closer. The distance you small, minimal—almost non-existent—as his breath hitches in his throat.

“You know what you’re getting into?” his voice a low growl, strained.

His gaze locked on you, watching you bite on your lower lip. “I really don’t like being in debt.”

It’s low, the way he replies. Short, two words: okay baby, before he’s leading, guiding, pecking kisses on your lips that likely leave you disorientated. It thrumming in his veins, the fact he gets to undo you, peel off the thin fabric you’ve likely had stuffed at the back of the closet—or even purchased with him in mind on your trip, thighs pressed together, wondering, finger and thumb stroking it as you imagine if he'd rip it off or slowly slide it from you.

He's not sure himself.

A part of him wishes to snap it from your frame in front of open blinds and undrawn curtains. To place his palm on your ass and taste your gasp on his tongue.

But another, the part which has missed you, wishes to wait. Make you wait. Wants to drag it out as long as humanly possible, have you soaked, wet, needy and desperate.

Because Frankie wonders if you've imagined this. Or, if you plotted it or it came to you randomly.

He gets an answer to it when the two of you are behind another door—one more private, intimate.

And it feels different in the bedroom than it did out in the living room.

The lighting being one of the reasons.

In here, you had opted for a darker shade when you’d both redecorated. Told him you preferred it, and had given him a shrug and a smile as you did. It had been a while later when he’d learned it was for him. For his eyes, for the sleep he struggled to grasp. It’ll help, I think? Saying it to him as though it wasn’t the kindest fucking thing someone had done for him.

But then, you are a waking dream.

A thing which has shaped itself and made itself real right before his eyes. Sculpted yourself from wishes and wants, shaping until you’re nothing but tangible and real.

He’s not afraid to tell you that either. Spends hours whispering it into your skin, pressing it close to your ear, repeating it over and over what perfection you are as you look at him with lust-blown eyes and lips parted around his name.

Frankie doubts it’s enough.

Least of all now, when you’re painted in soft white light, all gentle in how it rolls over you, as it becomes clear you’ve been home for a while.

You've drawn the blackout curtains—keeping out the evening—and you'd flicked the little bedside lamp on, doing its best to illuminate the room.

Swallowing, he traces his teeth over his tongue, wondering if you watched him reverse off the drive as you waited to make your move. Wondering if you're snuck in, trying not to disturb—dress yourself up, even if you never need to.

Because you’re a vision always.

The most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Even angry because he's left his tools out or with disappointment etched into your eyes because he’s forgotten something, you’re radiant, a goddess on earth.

A thing he finds himself reminded of as he steps closer to you. Fingers fiddling at his side as begins to close the small gap.

If not for the way he’s looking at you, he might have missed the shiver running through you from anticipation—and he knows it because of his action, due to the hungry look he's sure he's sporting as he raises his hands to remove his outer shirt. Balling it up, throwing it, a thing already unremembered before it even leaves his fingers.

"Frankie..."

"I know, just keep your eyes on me."

And you do, ever obedient. A thing no one would believe him off outside of these four walls. Not when you hold yourself strong and are quick to bite back, all wit and quick-thinking in addition to your brains and beauty.

He hooks a finger under the edge of his t-shirt, dragging it up over his head as he hears it—that little hiss, that slight gasp you do as though you’ve not seen him topless a thousand times.

It feels good. Makes heat rise up his neck and flood his ears. For a moment, he forgets he’s not all that. Because he’s soft, a little thicker around the middle, it feels like a lifetime ago he was trained in combat. But the way you look at him makes him feel like that is the furthest thing from the truth.

Fuck, you make him hard. Make him want. Have done since the moment you’d given him half a chance.

It’s why he's quick to pull you close, desperate to slant his mouth over yours. All fiery, hungry. Aiming to claim and write out all the ways he’s thought of you in the days since you’d been away. How the hours of you being gone and the amount he’s missed you have all balled up into a thing that is now fuelling him—sketching his wishes and desires across your lips, against your tongue, burying them past your teeth so they sit in your throat.

He grasps. Likely leaves marks of it on the perfect skin that covers your waist—because his palm is calloused and worn. Reminders of holding things not half as soft as you. A flicker of guilt almost bubbles in his, as he moves to rest it on your cheek, cradling your jaw and ear in one hand, as he slides the other up your back.

You whimper against his teeth before fingers find the clasp—finger and thumb, pinging it open before he feels fabric scrape against him—then you moan.

His chest being greeted with nothing but warm, smooth bare skin—nipples pebbling in the cooler air before being pressed against him, before he cups the swell of one, thumb stroking, playing a pattern.

“Do this for all the deliveries you get?”

You snort, it blowing out in a breath. “Only the ones with packages I like.”

In the time you’ve been together, you’ve said worse, but this time makes cock harden more than it already is. It's almost uncomfortable, in how it presses against his zipper, wishing to be released, as his index and thumb stroke over your skin. Taking it on how warm you are, how impossibly soft—distantly feeling the tremors from your heart hammering into your ribs.

"Too good for me, you are." You hum, as he seals his mouth back over yours. “But, I don’t take card.”

Purposefully, he drops his hand, fingers dipping, tracing across the lace that covers your slit—finding damp fabric as his ears take in the note of a quiet escape leaving your lips. It trying to bury itself between your two mouths open, breathing it in.

“Guess you’ll have to swipe something else.”

He snorts, and buries it into your neck, teeth grazing your skin—nose catching the scent of your perfume. And the scent almost makes him dizzy from how his blood rushes south. How the moment he’d dropped you off for your flight, it had lingered in the cabin of his truck. Remaining there for the first few days you were gone, before slowly fading. Leaving.

Just there on the coat you'd hung near the door and the pillows he slept beside.

The ones he rested his head against when he’d heard your voice down the phone, tell me to touch myself, Frankie, I need you. His own hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it as you moaned his name, all those miles away, dripping instructions into your ear.

“You're such a dirty girl.”

You grin in response, fingers tugging at his curls—urging his mouth back to yours.

But, he instead traces his tongue over your pulse, circling it, all defiant in bowing to you as his teeth trace over his path. Instead, his finger dips, traces the crease of your thigh with his gaze never leaving yours.

“Missed you,” you whisper.

His hand slides between your thighs, cupping you—feeling the discernible wetness soaked through.

“Can feel it.”

You scoff, but he kisses it away.

Doing so in a similar way to how he makes you forget, how he pulls you from your mind and brings you to the present. It’s also swallowed by another gasp, one made because of his fingers finding the edge of the lace, hooking a finger underneath, sliding the pad of his thumb against your swollen nerves and slick entrance.

"So wet for me," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the whine you emit. “Feelin’ needy, querida?”

And he can’t take his eyes off you.

Practically locked in, watching as your lips part, and your hips try to shift for more friction. He’s too fearful he’ll miss it, all of it—a slight curve of a brow or a shimmer on your eyes. All things he thinks over when he dreams, when he wishes for replays of moments until the next day when he makes another that easily replaces a good one.

He likes how you say his name when he slips another finger inside you—how it falls all soft, breathless. So much intention in such a low sound. Even as you squirm, mouth pausing over his; little mewls and moans falling as he drags them in and out, all languorous, teasing.

“Want you.”

His thumb brushes over your swollen clit, a hiss escaping. “I know.”

You gasp his name, stifle a moan, teeth biting down on the underside of your lower lip as your lashes flutter. It’s your nails digging into his scalp that keeps him rooted, that keeps him focused—precise touches and strokes that have you rocking against him and keep him tuned in to you.

“Missed how you sound, baby. You're doing so well.”

You’re close. His words make your perfect pussy clench around him. A chorus of moans escaping as he curls them inside of you, finds that spot, the one which makes you babble and turns your muscles into liquid.

He likes that he can do this.

That he can read you and undo you. That it’s a thing he’s mastered when he’d thought he was far from learning. But then, he’d taken great pride in spending hours studying—in alternating between being on his back and on his knees.

And because of that, he knows when he halt you over the edge. Let you linger, not tipping.

Normally, he’d never tease, never make you want—but, today is a different kind of day as he stops. As he retracts his fingers and allows the fabric to lightly snap back into place.

It’s a different whine that cuts into the room then. It pours out from your lips as your eyes dig daggers into him—but, he knows you.

Knows it’s momentary and nothing he can’t fix. Able to hold his ground against it, digging heels into the floor—all refusing to be swayed by the storm rising inside of you, creeping across the formerly tranquil sea. Instead, his hands move to his belt—undoing it, metal clanging and zip sliding down as your eyes break from glaring to stare hungrily at the outline of his cock.

Watching as you walk backwards, the back of your knees hitting the bed before you’re perching—eyes holding his, tip of your tongue sweeping, tracing, as you move further up the bed. The one you’d picked—chosen.

He’s in a trance.

Under a spell when you hook a thumb on either side of your underwear.

It’s not smooth, it doesn’t glide or remove with ease—there’s even a slight kick out of your legs before it flings from your ankle. But, it makes him tighten the hold on his cock. Because it may not be a thing people ever see on TV or in movies, but then they never feel like this.

They don’t feel real, no rawness, no tangling of his trousers he has to step out of as he strokes himself, eyes flicking down to where you’re bare—where you’re glistening—

“Wanna ride you, Frank.”

He sucks in a shuddering breath, hands gripping the base of his cock.

It’s slow, the way he grazes his teeth over his lower lip. “S’that how you wanna pay me, yeah?”

“All I’ve thought about,” you reply, a soft smile greeting him. “Lemme ride you—wanna look at you, wanna watch you come, baby.”

Fuck. He doesn’t fight it.

Instead, letting you guide him, allowing you to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw when he kneels on the bed and groans—because it’s been a long day, querida; he’s not as young as he once was.

“Still know how to be good, though. Don’t you?” you smirk, open mouth leaving a trail down his neck, eyes flicking up when you leave one in the space above his heart.

Hands behind his head, admiring, doing nothing but watching you place your thighs on either side of his as your fingers wrap around his wrists. You pin him, pressing down—aching cock ignored, left to leak against his hip as your lips press to his, over and over, and over until he’s chasing for the feel of them when you pull back.

You only offer a gentle, "I missed you," against the air before you're lining him up, bearing down, sinking, taking him in as he paints a groan against your collarbone.

There’s a beat, maybe two.

Stillness, enveloped entirely by your walls as his mouth wraps itself around your breast, leaving it wet, coated in spit as he groans when you begin to move. Setting a rhythm, slow.

“Not rushing this, Frankie.”

He never wishes you to.

His hands gripping your hips, guiding you. Head falling back onto the sheets as his breath hitches, the sight of you atop him, breasts bouncing—owning him—is a sight he could never grow tired of. One he also never feels worthy of—but he won’t squander, won’t ruin.

Because you’re perfect, head to toe—pussy made for him as it strokes up and down and breaths leave your mouth in short pants.

“Y’so good to me, Frankie. So handsome.”

And he wants to tell you that it's you who is so good—who is nothing but colour in an otherwise grey world. That you’re sunshine and stars, moon and so much more goodness than he can list buried inside of you.

“Go on, querida,” he grunts through clenched teeth, hands squeezing your hips a little tighter as you move a little faster.

As you take a little more. It makes your eyes flutter, parts your lips—watching in nothing short of awe as you use him, as you lose yourself in the moment.

"That's it, just let go. Make yourself feel good.”

It’s something majestic when he sees you nearing release—when he feels you clench and flutter.

“Feels good, y’feel good inside me baby.”

“You need more?”

And you nod.

The green light—the sign—and he doesn’t wait a moment.

Just canting his hips up, making a rush of pleasure spread up his spine. He’s lightheaded, hot—practically dizzy with how good you feel enveloped around him.

The noises filling the air, your slick walls taking him and the sound of skin slapping against skin. It’s drowned by the noises he pulls from you, making a mess of you as your lust-blown eyes land on him.

It almost steals his breath. Thieves it.

Because you’re so pretty, wild—a fucking dream on top of him. All soft and shimmering with perspiration from how good you ride him as he’s bathed in whines, moans and cries of his name.

“You're perfect,” he says, hand clamping on your hip as he shifts, and angles himself before thrusting up into you—watching your eyes squeeze shut. “From your smile to your tight pussy. You know that?”

Studying you as you try to keep the same rhythm. But, you’re nearing your climax—nails digging into his shoulder and neck, half-moons etched there, and he hopes they take hours to disappear.

“Thought about you all week—”

You moan, eyes meeting his. “Thought about you too—missed you. Missed how good you make me feel.”

“Fucked my fist to the thought of you like this. Never thought—fuck—I’d come home to this, baby. Y’fuckin’ perfect.”

Your chin lifts, neck elongating as he spreads his palm across your side, fingers pressing, grasping.

“Love hearing how much you missed me,” he smirks, watching you—thinking nothing but revolving thoughts as to how pretty you look, what a picture you are on top of him—

Then he hears a slam. Heavy boots. A voice he'd rather not hear at all:

“Fish? You home?”

He stops, realisation slamming into him.

A hand drops to the bedsheets, grasping them so hard his knuckles pale, and throb—the bones in his hand aching as he fights shouting and blowing his load right there and then.

The plans he’d made—the ones he’d put into place because you weren’t supposed to be home—all coming back to bite him. How he hadn’t wanted to spend another night alone, another evening in front of the television until you could call and tell him about your day—when he should have. He really fucking should have.

And you’re frozen, hips halted in place—his other hand remaining on your waist, fingers digging in as you both tense, keeping movements paused.

He considers it, the two choices he has and decides.

Leaning more against you—half-grinning, whispering shh as you look at him full of alarm—suddenly aware of the impending actuality that you could be caught like this.

And, then you clench around him. He feels it. Head tilting and eyes narrowing as he takes you in.

"Dirty girl," he mouths, and you look bashful, shy—a look he rarely sees when you’re split open on his cock and the base of him is covered in your slick.

“Fish, where the fuck are you?”

“Getting changed Ben, be a min.”

Your pussy flutters around him at your shout, as he moves to not shout the words towards your ear—feeling you clamp down, muffling a whimper. Another falls as he lifts up further onto his palm, dragging his nose down the valley between your breasts.

He knows you’re close—teetering, a few more thrusts and you’d have unravelled.

Dropping his voice, low—barely above a whisper, “Shh, baby. Or, I won’t let you finish.”

“Fuck,” you hiss. “Can‘t, Frankie—I can’t.”

He nods, finger and thumb holding your chin because he knows you can. Seen you do so much, and been witness to what you’re capable of—before his hand guides your hips to begin moving, thumb drawing soothing circles on your hips.

“Touch yourself for me, querida. Be good for me.”

And you whimper, something akin to his name.

But he’s guiding his mouth away, shouting, “Beers in the fridge, Ben.”

His mouth presses to your chest, hearing the shout from his friend back, but it’s the sound of your fingers on your slick and swollen clit that he tunes into. That he wants to flood his ears. Watching you shiver, shake, tremble from it as you tighten around him, choking his cock as he begins to thrust in and out.

He could keep you here. Should do too.

One week has already been too long. A need to make up for it—to have you pay for all the times you ask him those questions you wait until the lights are usually out for and he’s about to tip over to sleep; have you press yourself against him, nudging your ass into him as you cuddle, but really you want his mouth between your thighs. He should edge you, hang you over the edge of pleasure and watch your eyes dig into him until your lips whisper the word beginning with P.

But he won’t.

Couldn’t.

He likes knowing he pleases you too much.

Your moan bringing him back to it. Seeing how your eyes are clenched shut, trying to keep it behind your teeth. Failing, expletives dropping in breaths before he raises his hand, pressing it to your mouth, muffling it, the moans you have to release before you shake your head and fold into him.

Suddenly, he wants to move the dresser and lock the two of you in here. Wants to let them watch whatever fucking sports they want out there, and him just watch you in here.

You’re his favourite sight, after all. Especially like this. Free, not overthinking or worrying, just present, feeling as good as you should—as good as he always wants you to feel.

And you deserve this.

Hearing the low please fall before he plants his feet down, angling his cock up into you as you let out a muffled gasp. His palm flat to your shoulder, steadying you, as he feels your fingers slide it to your collarbone, resting it, fingers an inch away from the base of your neck.

You flick your eyes open—smothering him in permission, in radiant sunshine and lust, before the softest fucking smirk graces your lips—as his own mouth chokes out your name.

“Not tonight.”

It’s less words, and more a noise.

Because he’s close too—it having risen close to the top. Toes clenched around the sheets, digging in.

But he wants to feel you come first. And it’s there—that familiar sign. Lashes fluttering, gorgeous mouth going tight, slack as you tighten around him, locking up, clamping down as your hips move sloppily and out of rhythm.

You’re so fucking close.

“Shh, be good for me.”

Fingers, trembling and weak, slide around the base of his neck, tugging on his curls that are likely slick with sweat.

“N‘gonna last—let go for me baby.”

“Please.”

“Come for me.”

Spearing up into you with more vigour as you rasp, groan, and hiss—spit coating his fingers as he slides them out, dropping his hand from you as his knuckles press to the mattress as he fucks up into you.

Your body bucks, a cry you bury into his neck—a drag of nails against his scalp—as you come undone around him. Convulsing. Muffled cries vibrating against his pulse.

Frankie is barely able to contain the low growl as his hips stutter—heat raging through him, joined by rabid electricity. It sparking, ripping through, making him both ache and feel alive.

The sight of you and the feel of you drives him to the edge—and then over. A grip on your hip all tight as he thrusts into you one final time, unable to contain the growl. His chest heaves as he spills inside of you, and you tremble against him—panting, all messy and boneless as he pulls you with him as he rolls onto his back.

"You're incredible," he breathes into your ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck.

You let out a small laugh, a soft, content sigh escaping your lips. "So are you."

He smiles against your skin, his heart swelling with affection. He may have assumed he'd seen everything, but you—you continue to surprise him, to captivate him in ways he never thought possible. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Pulling his mouth from yours, feeling you ease him out of you, his hand lightly slaps you on the back of your bare ass.

"I missed you, querida," he murmurs, heart still racing in his chest.

Meeting his gaze, your lips purse. "I know," you whisper, leaning in to capture his lips in a tender kiss. "I'm here now."

“Shame you’ll have to sneak out the back and come in through the front door. Otherwise, you’ll be in here all night—”

His words trail off, a sly grin tugging at his lips as it dawns, rises up over your face and makes your mouth fall open. “Francisco….”

“Shoulda' told me you were coming home. It's boys night.”

Narrowing your eyes, you tick your jaw—spine straightening. “Well, I could stay in here—like this…”

Smirking, he kisses your nose. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, baby.”

Your mouth opens, a smirk gracing his lips in response as he raises a finger to his mouth, moving and pressing a kiss to your knee. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 10 months

Text

Airport Chaos.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - seeing how agitated that harry looked when he was just trying to get out of the car actually made me so cross, just be grateful that you got to see him, learn to give people personal space.

word count - 2.5k

in which, harry’s just finished his show in barcelona, and is en-route to madrid, but there’s one more hurdle that needs to be jumped when fans bombard him, you and your one year old son finley. this results in a very agitated harry, a tearful toddler and a wife that’s claustrophobic.

As the car glides through the vibrant streets of Barcelona, a serene ambiance envelops you and your family, casting a veil of tranquillity over the world around you. The bustling energy of the city has retired for the night, leaving behind an exquisite symphony of solitude.

As your car glides along the deserted thoroughfares, the city unveils its timeless secrets. The ancient buildings, guardians of Barcelona's rich history, stand tall and proud, their façades adorned with intricate details and ornate balconies. Illuminated by the soft glow of streetlights, their colors dance in harmony with the moonlit sky, creating a spellbinding kaleidoscope of hues.

The streets, devoid of the usual crowds, are yours to explore, each corner leading you deeper into the heart of this vibrant metropolis. The gentle breeze whispers through the leaves of towering trees, lending a symphony of rustling whispers to the nocturnal symphony. Their branches reach out like gentle arms, swaying gracefully overhead, creating a celestial canopy above the cobblestone lanes.

Occasionally, you catch glimpses of life seeping through the silence. A few solitary figures make their way along the sidewalk, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows upon the ground. Some are still adorned in the attire of a long workday, their weary steps echoing the rhythm of a day well-spent. Others, just beginning their nocturnal duties, are cloaked in the promise of a vibrant night ahead. Their presence adds a touch of mystique to the ethereal scenery, reminding you of the shared humanity that underlies the city's nocturnal tapestry.

The intoxicating scent of the sea lingers in the air, carried by the zephyrs that dance through the city streets. It mingles with the aromas of nearby cafés and restaurants, teasing your senses and igniting a hunger for adventure. The distant echoes of laughter and faint strains of music beckon, hinting at hidden pockets of life that come alive when the sun sets.

The drive continues with you cradling your sleeping one year old son, Finley, in your arms. His tiny mouth remained gently attached to your breast, having drifted off while nursing in the backseat after Harry's exhilarating concert. The rise and fall of his contented breaths provided a soothing soundtrack to the journey ahead.

You, Harry, and Finley were en route to Barcelona–El Prat Airport, preparing to catch a flight to Madrid. The excitement of the concert still lingered in the air, yet a hint of apprehension crept into your thoughts. The prospect of manoeuvring through a bustling airport with a sleeping baby nestled in your embrace weighed on your mind. Your nails became the focus of your nervous energy, as you absentmindedly picked at them, a telltale sign of your discomfort in crowded spaces.

Aaron, the driver, broke the silence, his voice cutting through the air with concern. "There's quite a crowd near the parking area," he informed you and Harry. "It might be a bit tricky to navigate through when we arrive."

The words sent a ripple of anxiety through your body, tightening your grip on Finley. You couldn't help but feel a sense of vulnerability in the face of such a boisterous crowd. The conflicting emotions swirled within you, knowing that your partner, Harry, thrived amidst the adoring masses that followed his every move.

As if sensing your unease, Harry's gaze shifted from the passing scenery to your nervous gestures. His touch was a lifeline, lifting your spirits and grounding you in his unwavering support. He reached out and gently grasped your hand, lifting it to his lips.

With a voice filled with reassurance and tenderness, he murmured, "M’love, don't worry. Everything's going t’be fine."

His words echoed in your ears, resonating deep within your heart. Harry's touch, warm and comforting, conveyed a sense of security, reminding you that you were never alone in facing your fears. Even though he was accustomed to crowds, he understood your anxieties and was always there to offer solace.

A soft smile danced upon your lips as Harry pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his lips grazing your skin with tender affection. In that moment, the outside world faded away, leaving only the connection between the two of you—an unbreakable bond forged in love, trust, and understanding.

And as the car continued its journey towards the airport, you clung to the strength and reassurance Harry provided. The touch of his lips upon your knuckles served as a soothing balm, instilling you with a renewed sense of courage and confidence.

The car slowed down as it approached the bustling parking area, the clamour of the crowd growing louder. But in that moment, with Harry's kiss lingering on your skin, you felt a surge of determination. The chaos outside the car could not overpower the love and support that encompassed your little family.

Gently shifting Finley off your breast, you carefully disengaged him, causing him to let out a soft whinge in protest. Worried that he might fully wake up, you quickly began to sway and soothe him, hoping to lull him back into a peaceful slumber. As your soothing motions took effect, his eyelids fluttered, and he settled once again into a deep sleep.

Glancing up from Finley's serene face, you caught Harry's attention. His eyes met yours, and you could see the concern etched in his features. Taking in the scene outside through the tinted windows of the Mercedes, he turned back to you, his voice filled with determination and care.

"I'll get out first, sign a few things, and then I'll come back t’help you and Fin," Harry explained, his unwavering support shining through his words.

As he prepared to step out of the car, a surge of fans already surrounded the vehicle. They clamoured for a glimpse of their beloved idol, desperate to show their adoration. Harry's body shifted, one leg still anchored inside the car while the other extended towards the crowd, his calm demeanour serving as a shield of tranquillity amidst the chaos.

With a graceful balance of firmness and kindness, Harry skillfully kept the fans at a distance, ensuring their safety while maintaining his own. He exuded a rare sense of composure, navigating the sea of adoring faces with a genuine smile and a genuine touch, making each person feel seen and valued.

As Harry prepared to fulfill his promise of signing an album for a dedicated fan, the crowd's energy buzzed with anticipation. He stepped out of the car with a gracious smile, navigating through the throngs of adoring fans who eagerly stretched out their arms, hoping to catch a glimpse of their idol.

Amidst the excited voices and outstretched hands, one fan appeared particularly adamant about getting close to Harry. They pushed forward, disregarding personal boundaries, driven by an overwhelming desire to be near him. Sensing the fan's persistence, Harry raised a hand, creating a barrier between them.

"Chill out, mate," he spoke firmly, his tone laced with a mix of assertiveness and exhaustion.

You observed the situation unfold from the comfort of the car, your heart filled with concern. As the encounter unfolded, you could see glimpses of Harry's fatigue creeping in. The long hours of performing, travelling, and constant interaction with fans were undoubtedly taking a toll on him.

His initial patience and composure began to waver, replaced by a growing agitation. Lines of weariness etched themselves upon his face, and his eyes betrayed a longing for a moment of respite. Despite his efforts to maintain his poise, the relentless demands began to chip away at his stamina.

And as the crowd's clamour continued, you sent a silent message of understanding and support to Harry, hoping he would find solace in your presence. In that moment, you yearned to offer him the calm and tranquillity he deserved, to shield him from the world's demands and allow him to simply be himself, away from the spotlight.

The image of Harry, his hand held up in a gesture of boundary and weariness, remained etched in your mind. It symbolised the delicate balance he maintained between his role as an artist and his own need for rest.

With a resolute expression, Harry addressed the persistent fans surrounding him, his voice carrying a blend of urgency and determination.

"I need to get m’wife and m’son out of the car," he asserted, hoping to convey the importance of their privacy and the need for a moment of respite. “Could y’please step back a little please.”

Some fans responded to his plea, relenting and creating a bit of space, while others continued to plead for photos and autographs. Recognizing the challenge at hand, Harry turned to the security team, issuing a request for them to create a pathway, guiding you and Finley safely through the crowd.

After ensuring that the security team was in position, Harry returned to the car, a mix of concern and weariness etched upon his face. Sensing his presence, you looked at him, seeking his guidance and reassurance.

"Is it okay for us to get out?" you asked, your voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

Harry's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting the immense love and care he had for his family.

“As okay as it can be," he replied, his voice holding a gentle understanding of the challenges that lay ahead.

Reaching out, he took Finley from your arms, his touch filled with tenderness and protectiveness. As Finley nestled his face in the crook of his father's neck, the exhaustion and overwhelm washed over him, causing tears to well up and spill forth. The flashing lights and the cacophony of the crowd became too much for the little one to bear.

Harry's embrace tightened, one arm wrapped securely around your waist, the other ensuring that Finley was cradled with care. His fatherly instinct kicked in, providing a sense of security amidst the chaos.

As the crowd pressed closer, their excitement reaching a fever pitch, one fan extended a hand towards Finley's tiny arm in hopes of capturing Harry's attention. But the innocent gesture had an unintended effect. Finley recoiled, pulling his arm back with a sudden jerk, his wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty.

Witnessing your son's distress, a surge of protectiveness welled up within you. Your heart ached for Finley, his innocence disrupted by the intrusion of a stranger's touch. At that moment, the proximity to the airport entrance offered a brief respite, as the number of fans thinned out. However, the incident had stirred something within Harry, a mix of concern and frustration that flickered in his eyes.

Harry, usually known for his composed demeanour, could no longer suppress his emotions. He addressed the fans, his voice tinged with a touch of agitation.

“Please, don't touch m’son," he implored, his words a plea laced with a protective urgency.

Rubbing his hand up and down Finley's back, Harry sought to soothe his distressed son. His touch carried a mixture of tenderness and firmness, a comforting gesture aimed at calming Finley's frayed nerves.

In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to pause, the weight of the situation resting heavily upon Harry's shoulders. The love he had for his son radiated through his touch, as he tried to ease Finley's unease and offer a sense of security amidst the unexpected turmoil.

As you finally made your way into the airport, the bustling atmosphere shifted to a slightly calmer pace.

“I’ve just got to go to the loo, quickly.” Your fiancé told you and the rest of the security who nodded their heads as he quickly handed Finley into your waiting arms. Fatigue and weariness were evident on his face, etched by the demands of the day.

In a tender exchange, Harry spoke softly to Finley, their bond evident in every word.

"I'll be back soon, little one." he murmured, his voice filled with affection and a touch of exhaustion. Finley looked up at his father, their connection palpable even at such a young age.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for Harry as you observed the tiredness etched on his face. He had given his all on stage, then faced the excitement and challenges of the crowd. Yet, even in his weariness, he remained attentive and loving, making sure to reassure Finley before attending to his own needs.

Leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to Harry's cheek, a gesture of support and understanding.

“We’ll be waiting here for you," you whispered, letting him know that you were there, ready to provide the stability and comfort he deserved.

Harry swiftly made his way to the restroom, seeking a momentary escape from the clamour and demands that surrounded him. He entered a closed cubicle, the solitude offering a brief respite from the outside world. The heavy door closed behind him, enclosing him in a quiet space.

Seated on the closed toilet seat, Harry took a deep breath, his thoughts swirling in his mind. The facade of composure he wore for the public began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability that few had the chance to witness. He reached into his pocket, retrieving his phone, and with a trembling hand, he unlocked it.

The screen illuminated with a picture that held his heart captive—a snapshot of you and Finley when he was just born. The memory flooded his senses, the pure joy and love captured in that moment forever etched into his soul. The time displayed on the phone read 12:06 am, a reminder of the countless sleepless nights he had spent caring for his family.

Overwhelmed by a surge of conflicting emotions, Harry's composure shattered, and he silently sobbed. His tears fell in solitude, unheard by the world beyond the closed cubicle. He held his phone against his chest, clutching it over his heart, seeking solace in the tangible reminder of the love that anchored him.

The weight of his responsibilities and the unrelenting demands of fame bore down upon him. Despite his unwavering love for his fans, a sense of suffocation enveloped him at times. Guilt gnawed at his heart as he grappled with the fear that his son, the embodiment of his deepest love, had been placed in harm's way due to the adoration of his supporters.

Feeling the weight of his emotions and the need for comfort, Harry pulled his phone away from his chest and dialled a familiar number. The phone rang, each passing second heightening his anticipation.

Finally, the call connected, and he heard his mother's voice on the other end.

"Mum... I'm sorry. I know it's late, but I just needed to talk to you," Harry spoke softly, his voice laced with a mix of vulnerability and relief. Despite the unwavering support he found in his partner and in you, he longed for the familiar embrace of his mother's understanding.

His mother was one of his best friends, and he knew it was late over in England but he just needed to hear her voice. He knew you would always listen to his thoughts and feelings but there was something about hearing his mothers voice that made him feel better.

Don’t get Harry wrong, this was undoubtedly one of the best tours he had ever done in his life, but he desperately needed a break.

He was craving the feeling of his own bed, with Finley laying against his chest and you laid asleep in his arms.

2K notes · View notes

maryhale1 · 3 months

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Fast Witchcraft is tailored for the on-the-go witches, offering swift yet potent practices to infuse magic into busy live

1. ✨Carry a Crystal Matching Your Intention:✨

Select a crystal aligned with your desired intention. Whether it's for clarity, protection, or energy, carrying this crystal throughout your day ensures a constant magical presence.

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Enhance your nightly rest by placing a crystal under your pillow. This subtle practice invites mystical energies into your dreams, fostering a deeper connection to the spiritual realm.

6. ✨Visualize a Shield of Energy:✨

In moments of chaos, practice a quick visualization. Envision a shield of energy surrounding and protecting you, serving as a powerful reminder of your magical strength in the midst of daily challenges.

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474 notes · View notes

sun-pluto · 11 months

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The Ascendant

picture sources: x x x

(Please do not plagiarise, copy, or repost my work. Thank you.)

It’s funny how I made a post about the 7th house first before a rising sign post, but to be honest I wanted to flesh out how every house can be relatable before going to the heart and drive of it all. And what better example than the 7th house which is supposedly your opposite? Well now we know it’s not and can actually be what you show and how you interact on a regular basis.

Now though, I want to talk about your motivations, which is the first house, or namely ascendant. I understand that the ascendant rules first impressions and appearance, also your personality. But I also think the first house drives you, it’s your heart, the reason why you continue to trudge forward in life. To make this more fun, I’m adding what the signs represent in tarot cards to add that extra depth, since a lot of stereotypes make all the signs seem a lot shallower than they are. So anyway let’s get started!

*side note, if the majority of your first house falls in a sign other than your ascendant, feel free to read that sign’s description too. Placidus housing adds nuance to your expression of the ascendant I find.

Aries Ascendant

If someone has to go first, I understand it will be me. ~ The Emperor

Fiery? Yes. Driven and direct? Also yes. Or at least it is a natural part of them to find a goal and immediately work towards it with no fuss or beating about the bush. Although known as the “youngest” of the zodiac as they signify spring, I’ve found many of these risings possess a very mature, headstrong attitude. They’re usually cheerful and actually pretty easygoing rather than just their short-tempered stereotype, although they certainly can be. What I have found cool about this placement though, is it easily makes people experienced in a lot of situations. Their life has set them up for them to lead and be the first to do something, and whatever placement they have, they experience it to the fullest via trial and error. Hence, it is both a burden and a source for excitement— it makes sense for them to be wise and discerning, and to recognise value in each aspect of their lives over time. To have your chart ruled by The Emperor in tarot, and having Mars as your chart ruler, makes for pretty chaotic and extreme life experiences. People often like to show only the extreme and violent aspects of Mars, because it’s dramatic and flashy. It’s proven here when Aries risings go out of their way to show off their power and hide their insecurities, as they can embody both the healthy and unhealthy masculine ego. They can also be surprisingly pessimistic, thinking their dreams are only a fantasy and yet are also angered by this (Pisces 12th house). When mature however, they make incredibly wise and capable leaders. The Emperor is known for being masculine, go-getting and authoritative while knowing his power is used to uplift and protect those around him, and Aries risings can be a prime example of that. Literally fire and cardinal modality packs an extreme punch and they’re often noticed wherever they go, purely because of the way they carry themselves. They’re often steadfast in their pursuit of things and even when they’re fast, they’re consistent, hence debunking the stereotype that they can be flaky. Lots of extreme experiences develop them into very skilled beings, and they often possess a lot of insight and depth that few can reach in subjects and topics they take an interest in, because to them, it’s go big or go home. Extremely passionate and unstoppable, over time they learn to control this fire within them to go for the things they want, because in the end, they do not need limits, only direction.

The people I know who are Aries Risings are sure footed, determined people. You just have to look at the way they treat others (Libra 7th house) to realise they do want harmony in their environment, even when some do like drama and chaos as air signs do. They are extremely loyal and loving to their family and friends (Cancer IC) even to their detriment, especially if mars, saturn, uranus or pluto is in their 4th house. They are always trying to look at the bigger picture, the higher perspective in order to make the best decision for themselves and others. They are a bit hypocritical in worrying and nagging their loved ones to take care of themselves, while neglecting their own health in the process. The ones I know can also be deathly afraid of vulnerability and highly controlling, because they know how sensitive and soft they actually are. You guys need to take care of yourselves more, and not just do things in extremes. Some who I know with Aries Risings can easily sleep all day, and then stay up for the next 24 hours. They do crave and try to incorporate balance in their life, and when they actually do, not a lot of things can stand in their way. They are ultimately very determined people holding the fort for everyone, and people really need to see this side of them more.

Taurus Ascendant

Here’s why we need to think and set a foundation first. ~ The Hierophant

The bull of the zodiac, they are powerful people, and we’re fortunate they normally choose peace. They can be stubborn, sure, but it means they can be unstoppable in achieving whatever they set their minds to. They are about setting traditions and foundations, and it doesn’t have to be outdated. They can be real trendsetters and pioneers on things that can outlive them (Aquarius 10th House). They represent the raw, earthy side of beauty and abundance, and they often know how to treat themselves well and can have tailored tastes and preferences. I know for a fact that they are very loving and loyal to their loved ones and family, and the way they move through the world can be surprisingly fast and very efficient. In tarot, they are represented by the Hierophant, which is all about setting down stable foundations, rules, beliefs and following through with them. They can be extremely driven to help those suffering (Scorpio Descendant), and the structure they create can really bring progression and healing. However, this level of abundance and stability can unfortunately also bring hubris, arrogance, ignorance and stagnation if they do not keep themselves in check. Their tendency to hold their emotions in an iron fist could also make for a violent, explosive temper. When they do not possess direction, they can easily succumb to indulging their senses and material world to fill up emptiness. At the same time, as said previously, they have the most potential to be abundant internally and externally. The Hierophant knows who he is and sets the rules for people to follow, and Taurus Risings embody that. They have the ability to subvert tradition and set down new rules that benefit others, because they have the groundedness and practicality, as well as an intuitive and resourceful mind. This inner fire makes them extremely devoted to their loved ones, their own ideas, and their causes. They can be extremely empathetic and generous to those in need, and can really lead others with grace and inner knowledge that draws admiration from others. Besides being beautiful, they are pioneers with no label, because once they know what they want, not a lot of things can change their mind, and success? It’s almost guaranteed with Venus as their chart ruler.

The ones I know with this rising are so, so caring. They definitely know some things about love that others can’t seem to grasp, such as devotion, responsibility, and respect. And it doesn’t have to be romantic love, these people don’t discriminate with their friends, family, or even colleagues at work. Although I know some people with this rising who can be ignorant, apathetic and self-serving, I can safely say even these same people care a lot about setting a stable foundation for themselves and their loved ones to grow on. With Scorpio in the 7th house, I’ve already already talked about their craving for intensity and stimulation— they are very easily adrenaline junkies— but this could be done in extremes and they could end up with unhealthy coping mechanisms. However, they’re also incredibly savvy and almost slick with their words, and with Scorpio in the 7th house, they can be incredibly mesmerising. Overall, most I know are just really powerful and passionate people, devoted to their own people and causes. They know what it takes to get the wheels rolling, and their level of determination is solid and awe-inspiring.

Gemini Ascendant

There’s always the other side of the coin. ~ The Lovers

Highly intelligent and insanely insightful are the first things I’ll say about people with this rising. They are extremely perceptive and incredibly nuanced in their ability to observe behaviour and mannerisms. The first of the air signs to make their appearance, they are ultimately concerned about figuring out the truth in situations, and in a way setting the foundation for the other air signs to come in. Represented by The Lovers in tarot, they understand duality in people and have the exceptional ability to accept all sides to an individual. And guess what, this makes them incredible friends and lovers. They understand flaws make people human, and they themselves are very intimate with their own perceived weaknesses and shortcomings. Depending on how they express this, they’re either extremely accepting and authentic with themselves and others, or they can be strict and sometimes judgemental. Most though, have the discernment to use both depending on the situation. However I will say these people can be pretty erudite and snobbish if they are unaware of their pride and ego. Additionally, the flighty air sign stereotype is shown the easiest with this rising, because they see options and opportunities, but they may not have security in themselves to follow through. A lot of their perceived stability and self-esteem can come from their loved ones, but in general, they’re just very caring and observant towards the people they love. Ruled by Mercury, they are playful but can surprisingly be wild and even rough with their play. To be honest, they often surprise others with how they can turn soft to aggressive in a snap, but when you understand complexity in a person, as they do, it is an obvious route. They love exploring both sides to a situation, as they themselves embody duality and two sides of a coin. At their depths they would like to find completion in themselves, to not feel so scattered or fragmented, but instead understood and seen as a whole. I would go so far to say they wish to be seen and accepted just as how they see and accept others so easily. Ambitious and often holding higher ideals, I’ve noticed they hold principles dear to them that they follow groundedly (Cancer 2nd house, Virgo 4th house). They are logical, adaptable people who, in the end, care very much about what impact they make on others. The ability to make the most out of any situation is their ace card, and boy can they give anyone a run for their money.

People I know with this are so sweet they make my teeth ache. Like YES, can kill you with their words. YES, incredibly talented and resourceful. Also yes, they are hardworking and can often find a niche they top the field in. But damn they are so caring. Very funny people with sometimes a sly or darker sense of humour, but honestly they’re just multifaceted. They make amazing detectives or people to go with to an escape room. They really try their best for their loved ones, I cannot emphasise this enough. They can jump between impulses and indecision, but ultimately what comes through is how it will affect their inner circle. Which is why it’s incredibly important that these people carefully select the people they allow into their home or their found family. I have not met people with this rising who are irresponsible, although there is potential (as with everyone). Instead, I know people with this who worry a lot and overthink about their decisions, their career, their life etc. which is why it’s extremely important for them to ground themselves (Virgo 4th house, Taurus 12th house). That is how they can heal and feel whole. Overall, their ability to think out of any situation and tease out the truth is a gift, and they shine with how much intelligence they hold that benefits themselves and their loved ones.

Cancer Ascendant

I’m here to follow my passion. ~ The Chariot

Firstly, they’re normally extremely good at putting themselves in other people’s shoes. Much like Gemini in the way they easily perceive people’s dual nature and complexity, but unlike Gemini, others perceive Cancer Risings to be softer and more forgiving, which is often a rushed assumption. Rather than just studying and probing a person’s nature, Cancer Risings intend to wield this to protect and serve their loved ones and themselves. This is why they’re often underestimated, because they’re soft and caring while still wielding resourcefulness and strategy to keep them and their loved ones safe— even thriving in their environment. You do not really know a Cancer Rising unless they allow you to. They’re elusive yet empathetic, firm yet graceful with their manners and boundaries. They are surprisingly bold with their style and can come across as very direct with Aries in the 10th and Leo in the 2nd. They are aware of how they want their environment to be like and they’re really good at setting up a foundation for themselves by literally tranquilising/eliminating anything jarring or disharmonious to them. These people are built to understand social structure and navigate through them (Capricorn DSC) while also sometimes exhibiting a rougher, wilder quality as you get to know them (Aries Midheaven). Symbolised by The Chariot in tarot, if there’s one thing a Cancer Rising knows in their soul, it is what they want. They are extremely connected to their heart space and can be very passionate and bull-headed with their goals. They are ruled by the Moon after all. These are the people whose intuition is like a compass— it points them to the right direction and signals to them when something/someone is awry. However, I have also observed some chasing their goals recklessly, going after the things they want or siding a group without thought if that helps with their agenda. In a distorted viewpoint, they can actually become selfish and cutthroat, seeing people in hierarchies/categories and coldly putting people down under the guise of protecting their circle and resources when it is mainly to serve their ego. However, at their best, they work through their Capricorn Descendant, and they’re extremely strong, regal, empathetic, and caring, and a light to those around them. They wish to bring understanding and insight into the world (Gemini 12th house) and so they often pursue passions that bring unique insights and perspectives as well as aligning with their own heart. Overall, they take charge and follow their heart, much like a shooting star, and it is a great gift they bring for others as well.

Guys. We’re all sleeping on Cancer Risings. They’re literally one of the most secretly successful rising signs out there. They build their base shaped best to their individual needs down to its core and then silently help those around them. Why do you think they are overly simplified as the mom friend? They’re literally guardians in every sense of the word, they hold their own down strong enough to help others struggling. If there’s one thing about them it’s that they’re always abundant in the space they’ve built for themselves. You would be lucky to experience that abundance if they decide to share it with you. I’ve once called them the captain of their own pirate ship and I stick by that, they are ambitious people who follow where their heart goes. At the truth of it, they are extremely wise for being connected to their heart, their intuitive compass, and their feelings. They like people who are strong and structured while still being open to change (Saturn-ruled 7th and 8th houses) and depending on their placements, they embody this too. Their Gemini in the 12th house actually makes them really likely to create/invent something useful in their lifetime, and why wouldn’t they, with the way they lead with passion? They illuminate the path ahead for others to follow, and they’re most likely to find a safe space for all.

Leo Ascendant

Someone has to bear the weight of the rule. ~ Strength

Being surrounded by Leo placements all my life, I’ve had the honour of knowing a few Leo Risings. Firstly, like the walking sunshine they are, they attract attention wherever they go. Their chart is literally built that way. Their Midheaven is ruled by Venus, they know how to make a good first impression with Virgo in the 2nd house and their Aquarius 7th house speaks for itself. However, I’ve noticed a lot of them do not like being put on a pedestal, because more than ever, they wish to connect with the people around them and feel their warmth. What is underrated is their love for learning. They absolutely love acquiring knowledge about different people and cultures or any topic really (Aries 9th house), and to do so they connect with others easily and charismatically. Additionally, they bring warmth and the spotlight, and they are often incredibly generous people. They hide a super soft heart that they shield with a lion exterior— they’re not exactly cold or closed-off, but they do show off their power, skill and confidence. Ruling the Strength card in tarot, they have the capability of retaining their warm loving nature and generosity in the face of hardship and difficulties. Leo Risings often portray a softness and kind nature that was absent in their childhood (Cancer 12th house). I’ve known many who grew up in violent homes, dangerous neighbourhoods and/or in financial difficulty (Scorpio 4th house). But because they’ve constantly shifted and transformed themselves to their own top standard and beat the odds, a lot of them have this aura of majesty and yet, this lightheartedness as well. I will say though they do let their emotions get the best of them at times and may have the tendency to wallow and stay stagnant in the hole they’ve dug themselves in or their coping mechanisms or both. I also know that at their worst they tend to hide their wounds, vulnerabilities and softness, and project their confidence to extremes while throwing their weight around. This can ultimately lead to them pushing others away or being the new bully they so hated. However, much like Strength, they have the capability of taming a lion without deadening their feelings and emotions. And much like Strength, they are able to attain their goals and win the admiration of many without closing themselves off to their inner child and softness.

Leo Risings have the greatest potential to show the world how strong and magnificent they are without feeling ashamed of their wounds. Cancer in the 12th house does pack a punch, the 12th house talks of loss and the subconscious while Cancer is the protective nurturing energy we all need, especially as children. They may feel like they missed this energy in childhood, and many have learnt to stay quiet and work their way through life, while repressing their need to be cared for and paid attention to, when really, that’s all they want. They are incredibly intelligent and resourceful people who work hard and have high standards for themselves, while also retaining the bright curiosity and initiative needed to attain success. They definitely can be great leaders, however to fully be themselves without feeling drained or suffocated by people (who definitely will ask something of them), they have to learn to listen to their feelings and know to set boundaries and care for themselves. The RIGHT way, not just by suddenly pushing others away or taking more control. I feel they can benefit a lot from sitting or walking in nature and finding ways to connect to their big heart again, because honestly that’s what their loved ones love them for. Having a heart of gold is the main descriptor for this rising sign.

Virgo Ascendant

What can we improve? ~ The Hermit

I think one thing about Virgo Risings is they’re incredibly conscientious. Conscious of themselves too, they know the energetic space they take up (aka they can tell they’re the shit). They embody the saying where in order to succeed you need to know thyself. And work hard of course, which they also got in the bag. They’re incredibly generous people but they show, not tell. Which makes their craft and actions extremely valuable, they can bring incredible gifts and abilities to the table because of their astute ability to perfect and sharpen whatever skill/ability they set their minds to. Ruling the Hermit card in tarot, they are often great self-reflectors and can really piece together lessons from the past to make invaluable judgements and decisions. Although known for being perfectionistic, nitpicky or judgemental, they’re often also unfairly idolised and idealised to live up to a standard created by other people. They are expected to gruel and go through tense/difficulties in life and not complain, and when they do, their accomplishments and character get swept under the rug. Over time though, they can find the people and places who acknowledge them for who they are, because whatever they’re perfecting now, they will be noticed eventually. They almost remind me of a soldier going up the ranks, and they do this with a whole lot of strategy and intelligence. The cons with this is a kind of nihilistic, sometimes “dog-eat-dog” mindset that they have to manage, because it can overtake them and contribute to feeling depressed or hopeless in this ever changing world. They can be mysterious, but they’re usually just extremely compassionate and giving people who guard their hearts. Their minds and way of thinking is incredibly unique and is often the first thing people spot about them, because they’re often deep thinkers who can provide unique, efficient and just sharp solutions to problems others cannot solve. Also can I just say, they’re incredibly sensual people. They’re attuned to detail as well which contributes to this, but generally I’ve noticed they have a very alluring, ‘come hither’ energy that can turn very passionate and fiery quickly. But back to that, their Rising gives them the ability to reflect on issues and sharpen their skills most of all, they can go through fire and come out skilled and wiser.

The people I know with this Rising are incredibly humourous. People don’t talk about their Sagittarius IC or Gemini Midheaven enough. They KNOW how to bargain and strategise their way through life. They often build connections and hone in on stability/security incredibly fast. Because they’re a mutable sign, they’re very flexible and adaptable to people and are normally very witty and astute in their observations. Depending on how much air they have in their chart, they’re also sometimes very straightforward and blunt, but “one man’s meat is another man’s poison,”, people who they surround themselves with will treasure that astuteness and honesty and use it to improve their lives. They can get pretty indecisive on what they want to do in life I’ve noticed, but I think it’s because they often like things that deviate from mainstream careers. Once they realise they have a gift in an area though, expect them to top that field. Nobody I know with this Rising comes out of life defeated, that’s what I will say. They always find a way out of darkness, it’s very similar to Scorpio Risings except these people just outsmart or outskill situations in the end.

Libra Ascendant

There needs to be justice. ~ Justice

Lots of misunderstandings and conflict with this Rising. When you have your whole chart flipped and signs in opposite houses, you’re going to have a life as extreme as an Aries Rising, except this time you are meant to oppose The Emperor. This time, you’re journeying through the other side of the wall — you clearly see the other perspective, and now the responsibility of seeking justice is thrust into your hands. What do you do with it? That is the question Libra Risings will ask and answer throughout their life. These people are met with opposition at every twist and turn with Aries in the 7th house (or they create the opposition by arguing), and from a young age they are exposed to the neverending opinions and expectations of others they have to sort through. It’s almost like they sprung out of the womb as an adult, because these people are exposed to harsh reality pretty quickly, or some form of duty or obligation. Hence these Risings try to form judgements and make the best decision for everyone very early on. They are very giving and for people. Ruling the Justice card in tarot, they best embody being the judge and jury because they have a lot of extreme experiences that they can sharpen into principles, ideals, and morals. They can be very stubborn with their ideals and can hold a lot of resentment and anger if it’s not dispersed productively. Venus was, very early on, the planet of war, and this air cardinal sign embodies that with strategy, tact and grace. Their perspective is cutting and they have this uncanny ability to see the truth into things and be direct with it. And people do not often see this side of them, because they’ve learnt to show the charming, peaceful sides of their personality while working behind the scenes to bring a safer, more nurturing environment that they crave and want their loved ones to have. They understand the value of harmony/peace and this Rising is best known to have a magnetising appeal to the masses, because they understand what people want/need. However, the obvious flaws of this are that they act too much the harmoniser and balancer, that they erase their personality altogether. We all know people-pleasing or being superficial are the weaknesses of this air sign, and it can really culminate to that if these people do not set boundaries and heal from the rough start they were in (Scorpio 2nd house, Capricorn 4th house). They are in the best position to stand up for the underdog, not be a doormat. Much like how a judge's verdict is final, Libra Risings know the power they hold and can be scared of it, but once they hone this power, they hold a lot of rule and say in everything, and their judgement is invaluable.

I’m a Libra Rising, and I also know two others who have the same Rising sign. What I personally feel is people give too much credit to how emotional and charming this Rising sign is, and end up belittling or disrespecting this sign. Although they can be just as empathetic and human as others, they hold a lot of capacity to be very cerebral and impartial, sometimes to the extreme without considering the emotions of others and coming across harsh and blunt. They, like Gemini and Pisces Risings, let people see what they want to see while offering no clue to what they’re doing behind the scenes, for better or worse. At their worst, Libra Risings can be pretty amoral and bitter, leaning to the unfairness they’ve experienced rather than finding justice for themselves or others (“It’s just how the world is”). However, at their best, they embody a weapon themselves in how they deal out justice, and they can be extremely ruthless with it. They need to be able to find balance, or they will create it. Seek justice for yourself, and soon you’ll seek it for others as well. They can really be revered and adored by others for their beauty, inside and out. They care about people, their friends and loved ones, full stop. And they’re the most likely to bring change in pursuit of it.

Scorpio Ascendant

I understand the underbelly, which is why I know how to deal with it. ~ Death

Much like how Death shows up commandingly clad in armour on a horse in tarot, these people very much remind me of soldiers or generals of the zodiac. Scorpio Risings have the ability to weather through any storm, grit their teeth and emerge victorious and wiser. These people have often witnessed a lot of unfair/disadvantaged situations or been in one, and had to work their way around that. They advocate for peace and are often extremely stable and giving in relationships, and they are often loyal to a fault and honest with their dealings is what I’ve noticed. They are opportunistic in any business they’re in with Sagittarius in the 2nd house, and are optimistic people who value simplistic enjoyment in things. But much like Death in tarot, their signature is in their ability to bring change to their environment, and upend foundations and what’s not working anymore. Opposite from Taurus, who sets rules and foundations, Scorpio Rising’s 4th house in Aquarius gives them this innate ability to figure out what’s wrong with any foundational structure, and strike it down. This could be anything, from worldly issues to relationships to even why their computer isn’t working, they take the truth and wield it to something that serves them. This is why most people either become inspired by them or fear/hate them, because they have this innate ability to transmute and are known for it (Leo 10th house). Their perseverance is admirable and also terrifying because once they decide to continue towards their goals, it’s over. Just like Death, it is inevitable that they get what they commit to. However, these Risings really go through it, their life is marked by erratic changes and tower moments after all, and that’s why they can be insecure or doubtful of their abilities, or distrustful and despairing about their life’s direction. These Risings however, should know that this ability to transform and persevere through tough life situations makes them extremely powerful and wise, almost like a “once I’ve gotten through this, I can get through anything”. Death in tarot is after all, freeing of all limitations and restrictions, and these Risings have the capability to build themselves a haven after everything they’ve been through.

The people I know with this Rising just really need sleep. And lots of hugs, they need to have a good support system they can rely on when the going gets tough. These people have such an amazing gift at creativity and the arts that they themselves could underestimate, but it is definitely healing for them should they choose to practice their craft. That Libra in the 12th house? Devastating. Early on they might’ve thought peace or harmony in their lives is unreachable in some way, or they might’ve seen unhealthy conflicts or fights happen a lot in their inner circles, which is why they seek to bring it into the world somehow, subconsciously. Paradoxically, this is why they’re so good at unearthing the truth and bringing even more peace and resolution to anything they touch after destabilising it. They may be a dark horse or feel ‘other’ in some way, but in the end, they are the architects and re-constructors of our world. They match Taurus Risings with their raw level of power, and their insane level of insight into situations and people is what spurs them to do what they do best— transform.

Sagittarius Ascendant

There’s hope! Let everyone know! ~ Temperance

I think one thing I’ve noticed about Sagittarius Risings is their zest for life. Not a lot of things get them down, even when in the Sagittarius Pluto generation, Pluto is in their first house. The ones I know are enthusiastic and driven, rambunctious and joyful. However, one thing I see but hasn’t been said is how stubborn and willing to bite the bullet they can be. They are mutable fire, and they can dither from decision to decision, however once they’ve committed to the bit, they can really pull through. The most dynamic and free-spirited of the fire signs, they are symbolised by the Temperance card in tarot. After Justice and Death, there’s a need to regain sense of oneself, to come home and regain balance and find multitudes internally and externally. With their Gemini in the 7th house, they love to communicate, explore new topics and share them with people, and are excellent debaters. They have an innate drive to pursue multiple talents and create, and who’s to stop them? Ruled by Jupiter, they embody the wise, knowledgeable and skilled traits of Jupiter, and expanding outwards as a whole. However, the downsides to this are obvious, such as biting more than one can chew or overexerting oneself, and they can share the same erudite arrogance as Gemini. These people are the ones who despair when they realise they can’t master all the skills they want to pursue. They hold a secret love to life’s mysteries and wonders, and so it’s not surprising they wish to investigate and travel in their lifetime. They can be known to relocate or at least explore often, and they have the potential to be incredibly savvy and resourceful (Saturn-ruled 2nd and 3rd houses). Just like the Temperance card, they have the potential to find true abundance and knowledge not just through exploring, but via their own intuition and inner selves. They carry their abundance and multitudes with them that inspires and awes others, and they only need to see that within. Honest and forthright, they wish to spread whatever they’ve learnt to inspire people and make an impact, and can be known as whistleblowers (in the good way). At their worst, they are fickle and yet harsh with others, insecure in themselves and critical of everyone else. Like all fire signs, they hold a temper that can lash out at those around them, sometimes at unpredictable times as well. At their best, they are the inspiring teachers in class, the passionate explorers and researchers, and/or the wise gurus. They represent joy in multitudes, and they won’t let you forget it.

Sagittarius Risings I know could be anything under the sun, and they know this. Which is why it’s so hard for them to settle and find a niche where they can continue to explore and share their ideas and, well, expand. They can really believe in the weirdest, newest, most unique topics and skills out there, and they’re willing to let others know it. That Scorpio in the 12th house doesn’t really let them rest, they wish to explore and investigate and it’s not uncommon to find them in detective work, forensic science or even as paranormal investigators. However, with their Pisces in the 4th house, what they really wish for is understanding, inside and out, and it is beneficial for them to rest and self-reflect from all these ventures and solidify what they’ve learnt so they can share (Virgo in the 10th house). Remember not to give so much, let others share their own resources, ideas, skills and care to you. You’re ruled by Jupiter, not the giving tree. Sometimes dipping fingers in too many pots disrupts both your inner stability and others. But overall, you hold a lot of inspiration and warmth, so never be afraid to share that.

Capricorn Ascendant

Let’s build this from the ground up to make it stronger than ever. ~ The Devil

These people are surprisingly active and take initiative all the time. Their Aries in the 4th House makes them feel like they have a constantly running generator powering up their energy, and they’re the most quick on their feet out of all the earth risings in my opinion (or maybe Taurus risings are on par). Headstrong, cordial and resilient, they are the “oldest” earth sign in the zodiac and these risings showcase that the most. They are extremely knowing and skilled in working a crowd (Libra 10th house/MC), have an extremely strong and adaptable work ethic (Aquarius 2nd house and Gemini 6th house), while also having the ambition and dreams to go far in life (Pisces 3rd house). The reason why they’re symbolised by The Devil in tarot then, is a culmination of all these reasons. They take initiative, and they keep going despite obstacles, and they can rinse and repeat to the point of exhaustion. These people run the risk of obsessing on something, be it their work, their family, or just a stable income, and they can be incredibly attached to things easily (Cancer DSC, Taurus 5th house, the list goes on). They are also incredibly forgiving people who are aware of how tough life can get, and often experience a pretty tumultuous and erratic home life. Ruled by Saturn, the planet of karma, restrictions and duty, this can be a blessing in disguise for them as they are too kindhearted or stubborn to let go of things that may not serve them anymore. As stereotypes can portray, they indeed may have control issues or over worrying about the worst possible outcome. However, they do not realise how much of a blessing they are to others, how their ability to get their hands dirty and grind has pulled them out of extremely tough situations not many could have continued. They are strong people, with a depth not known to many, and they have retained their kindness and generosity through it all. These people are blessed by the phrase “you reap what you sow”, because they can reap incredible abundance from their intuitive way of going about work. Legacies? These risings can definitely leave them. In other meanings of The Devil, their focus, precision and loyalty is incredibly attractive to many, and their ability to power through and hone any skill is a raw power. That Leo 8th house? Hot. They know how to work their finances and these risings are powerhouses in their own right while still having the adaptability to cruise through life. Saturnian children may get their blessings later, but when they arrive, they last and stay for a very long time.

These people can actually be quite idealistic if their placements allow, they’re situated right in between their Sagittarius 12th house and Aquarius 2nd house, and they have a very soft, parental quality they like to perpetuate in their environment and with loved ones (Cancer DSC). Much like how hope and optimism can actually convince them to stay in unhealthy cycles, they normally learn their lessons on cutting cords and finding out consequences earlier, only to find it easier in adult life where they slowly start to get the hang of things and thrive. People easily have faith in them and their reliability, and they can normally climb their career ranks very quickly. Their cardinal earth quality remind me of earthquakes, they are successful because of their ability to stay grounded and yet adapt. They’re able to build anything from the ground up, just give them time. Rest up, because it’s part of being productive, and once these Risings learn how to nurture themselves properly, all they can do now is succeed.

Aquarius Ascendant

If we were headed in a direction, where would we go? I want to know. ~ The Star

A beacon of hope. One thing about these Risings is they are undoubtedly authentic, and if they choose, they wear their hearts on their sleeve to showcase their individuality. This strength they have to inspire the masses by just being themselves is extremely powerful, and raw. Opposing Leo Risings or the symbolic Strength card, these rising signs bring massive change and upheaval by showcasing what may not be palatable, might be weird, might be taboo, but is needed. Why they’re named the rebel, the humanitarian, the water bearer, is because deep down they are deeply generous and abundant (Taurus IC) and when they notice something amiss, when there isn’t justice or space for freedom, they fight for themselves and others. With water signs in the earth houses, especially the Pisces 2nd house, they dream of an idyllic reality where people are not shunned, or hurt, or damned. Ruled by Saturn and Uranus, these Risings are not as contradictory as you might think. They deeply crave order and structure that benefits everybody; they think about the collective. Hence they are rebels with a cause, all their signs in the specific houses are built for causing change that can benefit them and those around them. However, as all of us have, their weaknesses can range from being too trigger-happy to having insurmountable expectations with reality (Aries 3rd house, Virgo 8th house, etc. you get the idea). They can easily feel down or bogged by expectations or feeling invisible. Because they have felt shunned or rejected for who they are, they can easily go the other way and turn selfish or narcissistic, expecting others and the environment to fit around them instead. They can also be prone to emotional outbursts (Scorpio 10th house), although this can be turned into emotional awareness and insight. When they give themselves space to shine, they can bring that spark and fire to any group and allow others to shine with them. Symbolised by The Star, the reason why hope is so powerful and needed is because it finds us when we are at our rock bottom, when we are weak, and when we are bone tired from fighting. These people bring everything to the surface and address them, they are the canaries in the mine, they’re the reminders that better things can come if only we address what’s wrong. Because to them, everything is exposed and raw, including themselves, they have the capability of accepting themselves and the reality for what it is and are able to work with it. These people are excellent channels for the new, the exciting, and even the genius. They can be excellent at any chosen art form to express themselves, but most of all, they are excellent guiding lights, especially for themselves, if they choose to believe in it.

My younger sister is this Rising, and I’m an Aquarius, so I guess this rising sign holds a little special place in my heart. I think the deep root of Aquarius Risings is the need to feel seen and to be understood (Leo 7th House). They could have been treated as the scapegoat very commonly by others (Scorpio 10th house) while still bringing much needed insight and troubleshooting into their communities and circles, and this could lead to bitterness and resentment very often. They’re incredibly emotionally attuned individuals that felt shunned for not having needs met, and so a lot of things, they do it to vindicate themselves and hence others who have felt the same way they did. Not all of what they do is rebelling obviously, they want to recreate structure as we know it and empower others very deeply, so they will act this out in their unique way. Obviously being very intelligent, they can often tinker and experiment with their own self-expression or whatever they’re interested in and hold vast amounts of energy and focus for whatever they set their mind to. Although sometimes distractible, reactive and maybe drama queens in their own way, they hold the key to a way out in any darkness, and it would be wise to listen and have faith in them.

Pisces Ascendant

We need to understand everything is connected to make this work. ~ The Moon

The Moon card in tarot is as soft as it sounds, and yet it encompasses an enormous depth to its meaning. It shows the distance between our internal worlds and the external one, how far/illusionary perceptions can be, and how close can we get these worlds to collide and be one whole. Pisces Risings adopt this energy straight off with their Aries 2nd house and Scorpio 9th house. Stubborn, determined energy with their values, ideals and beliefs, they seek to reflect back what their inner world has to offer in comparison to reality. Opposing The Hermit card in tarot, Pisces risings have had enough with inward isolation, now they want to experiment how far their perception and beliefs can hold by acting it out practically (Virgo 7th house). Extremely perceptive and insightful, they are the known psychics or intuitive beings simply because they know how to adapt, copy, mirror, reflect, and feel the world around them (Gemini IC). They are often extremely effective in bringing solutions and ideas into reality, because they are both dreamers and hard workers. They wish to bring their dreams to life, and in doing so they symbolise The Moon card best by unveiling illusions and harnessing a deep wisdom in themselves to match their internal world with their external one. However, just like how The Moon can unveil illusions or create them, these risings are the most prone to self-delusion when their reality simply doesn’t match up, or results take longer to arrive. They can be impatient and irritable, and could have a pension for arrogance and hubris if not brought down to earth (Leo-Aquarius in 6th-12th house axis). Often very ambitious and idealistic, they could have the power to bring creativity and inspiration into any interest and hone it down into a fine skill (Virgo DSC, Taurus and Cancer 3rd and 5th house). Deep down, they crave unity for themselves and others, and they often seek fairness and understanding in every interaction. They are the best at researching and understanding what it means to be a part of a larger whole, and hence how to act on it. They are really good at empathising and seeking justice with/for others due to this ability to recognise a simple concept: the human experience is universal. Often extremely generous and helpful as well, they seek to nurture and hence purify their space and their close circles. Pisces risings showcase themselves through their life’s work and dutiful application of their values (Leo 6th house), in hopes to inspire others and bring people together. Just like The Moon, they symbolise power through deep inner knowing and hence illumination of the self.

I wonder if you guys ever get tired of being called dreamy. It could be accurate, because in the end you hope for something, but with that Aquarius in the 12th house, you wish to reconstruct and redefine what you know as reality. It could be that change either doesn’t come easy and you tend to be stuck in places/relationships that are stagnant, or there is too much fluctuation which also calls for improvement. Unlike a lot of people, Pisces risings wish for change, and so a lot of them become it. I think they really embody the word ‘manifestor’, and this time not in a traditionally dreamy sense, but rather they set their sights on something and can transform themselves and their surroundings to attain their goals, which is extremely admirable and inspiring. The drawbacks are never really getting to know who you are, at a base level, and only constantly pursuing something you want or lack. Pisces risings are capable of illumination in the highest sense of being aligned with themselves, and hence leading others along with you, so never lose sight of the inner you. They bring the extraordinary into daily life, in their own unique way, and at their best they recognise the innate value they have in themselves and others, which is an extremely life-changing thing to have and wield.

Thank you for reading! I hope this brought you some clarity c: Feel free to leave feedback in the comments or reblogs.

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blue1amory · 7 months

Text

You are the soul that fits into mine || OP81

Pairing: oscar piastri x Räikkönen!reader

Summary: The fans call you the “it” couple, and you have 3 moment where you fell even more in love.

Request: yes

Formula 1 Masterlist

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

yourusername

Liked by oscarpiastri, f1, landonorris and 834,830 others

yourusername: ask me where home is and I will say with you. Because I’ve always felt more at home in your embrace, than I did in any house

Tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri: my love, you gave my heart a home

yourusername: you make me feel butterflies in my stomach

user1: someone call Kimi, mom and dad are at it again

user2: aww 🥺😭 I feel single again

user3: I want this kind of love, the way they have their cute interaction on live tv, or the cute quotes they right when they talk about each other on insta. They way they look at each other.

landonorris: I don’t get it why people love your relationship. I swear to god, one day in the same room and they will go nuts by being the third wheel.

yourusername: we try to do it less in front of you

landonorris: yeah but you forgot the walls are not thin in the motorhome

oscarpiastri: I hear 👂 jealousy, mate

landonorris: nah, only trying to prevent more traumas

user4: if there is a person with the same attitude as y/n, 💳 take everything

kimimatiasraikkonen: when are you two coming to stay over at our place again, Robin and Rianna miss you

yourusername: soon, very soon

oscarpiastri: Tell them that if I manage to get on the podium at least two times before summer break, I will do everything they say for 3 days

User5: are we going to ignore what Lando said????

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

The jovial atmosphere was palpable as the young couple engaged in a delightful evening of games. At present, the focus of their attention was directed towards the classic party game, twister. Emanating from their joyous expressions were rays of genuine amusement, as they exchanged playful glances. The objective was simple: they had to contort their bodies to place their limbs on specific colored dots on the twister mat. Amidst the cheerful chaos, their blissful harmony was evident.

A momentary pause ensued, as it was Oscar's turn to make his move. With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he tentatively positioned his right hand on the crimson-colored circle, in a valiant attempt to maintain his balance.

However, much to his dismay, gravity had other plans in store. A wry smirk formed on his face as he succumbed to the forces of nature, toppling onto the game mat with a gentle thud. In this inadvertent spectacle, he inadvertently caught hold of your body, causing you to experience an unexpected descent as well. Astonished, both parties found themselves momentarily in a state of bewilderment. Yet, the perplexity swiftly transformed into unbridled amusement, as laughter escaped from your lips and you proclaimed victory.

Oscar and you rose from the floor, exchanging smiles that conveyed a shared sense of contentment. Subsequently, you made your way to the kitchen with the intention of brewing a comforting cup of tea for both yourself and Oscar. As you initiated the process by switching on the teakettle, Oscar tenderly encircled his arm around you, aligning his chest with your back. In a gentle, heartfelt murmur, he expressed his profound affection, saying, "My love, the depth of my adoration for you knows no bounds. If only we could remain in this embrace indefinitely."

In response, you turned your body to face him, acknowledging the significance of his words. "I share that sentiment, but you have your racing career to pursue. It's only the beginning of your rookie year, and you can't afford to halt your progress. Furthermore, I rely on your unwavering strength when it comes to engaging with my father, for he holds you in high regard," you whispered, emphasizing the importance of his resolute demeanor in your familial interactions.

As Oscar was poised to utter a response, the resonant sound of the teakettle reaching its boiling point interrupted the silence. Reacting to the audible cue, you gently disengaged yourself from Oscar's embrace, attending to the task at hand. Retrieving the teakettle, you carefully poured the steaming water into the waiting mugs that housed the tea bags.

Once the kettle was safely returned to its original position, you sought solace once more in the comforting embrace of Oscar. Nestling your face into the cradle of his neck, you experienced a profound sense of warmth permeating your heart. In that fleeting moment, a profound realization washed over you, confirming that Oscar was not just a person, but rather a place of refuge and belonging—a true embodiment of home.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

yourusername

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yourusername: when your boyfriend ups his game. You got to let him have his way 😉😏🫦

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oscarpiastri: got to satisfy you somehow

yourusername: you always do

User6: damn both are hot

User7: they are making me question my sexuality

User8: yeah mom and dad are HOT 🥵

Colbybrock: let me guess he loves to be dominant just like me

Liked by yourusername

User9: hey Google, search how to be like your name

User10: I’m jealous of her, how did she manage to catch Oscar

User11: more like how did Oscar catch your name

F1: Oscar piastri leads the race with how much of a simp are you for your girlfriend. 30 second behind Oscar we have number two in this race Alex Albon and on number three we have George Russel.

User12: I- did you guys see your name like Colby’s comment

kimimatiasraikkonen: I know you two are adults but please tell me your using protection

User13: Kimi I- you did not

User14: BHAHAHAHAHAHA

User15: not Kimi exposing Oscar and your name

yourusername: Im not having this conversation here

kimimatiasraikkonen: fine, call me

yourusername: NO 😭

User16: Slut

User17: shut tf up

User18: leave

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Seated comfortably upon your father's couch, your gaze remained fixed upon your boyfriend, Oscar, engrossed in playtime with your younger siblings, Robin and Rianna. The sheer delight that emanated from their interactions never failed to captivate you. In a heartwarming moment, your father, Kimi, entered the room, bearing a cup of tea which he graciously extended to you before taking his place beside you. As his eyes followed the animated exchanges between his children and your boyfriend, a subtle smile played upon his lips.

Amidst the collective giggles and hushed conversations, a soft utterance reached your ears, carrying the weight of your father's approval. "You've chosen well," he observed, prompting you to shift your gaze to him. Meeting his steady gaze, his words lingered in the air, suffused with a depth of meaning that resonated deeply within you.

"He brings you joy, kulta , casting a radiance upon you that evokes the brilliance of stars," he continued, his voice gentle and sincere. In the ensuing pause, the significance of his sentiments rippled through the room. "He treats you with a reverence that befits a queen, an embodiment of prioritization that is truly rare," he articulated, each word carrying an unwavering weight of truth.

The unspoken rarity of such unwavering devotion hung in the air, punctuated by your father's contemplative pause. "Such qualities are a rarity," Kimi concluded, the assertion carrying a sense of finality. The intensity of the moment swelled within you, your emotions teetering at the precipice of overflowing.

With a heartfelt whisper, you found your voice, expressing gratitude that seemed to transcend words. "Thank you, Dad. Your words hold a significance beyond measure," you conveyed, your words a testament to the profound resonance of his observation. His comforting touch upon your leg conveyed an unspoken connection, grounding you in the midst of emotions that threatened to overwhelm.

As your gaze returned to Oscar, you were infused with a renewed appreciation for the depth of the bond you shared. The room seemed to brim with an indescribable warmth, a testament to the power of familial support and the beauty of love that transcends ordinary boundaries.

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

yourusername

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yourusername: i am proudly to announce that I will be in cast of ‘one piece’. Thank you for giving me this opportunity.

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User19: my momma is finally getting her dream job

oscarpiastri: ‘m proud of you, my love ❤️

landonorris: yeah yeah congrats yourname

Yourusername: thank you boys

User20: I absolutely love her dress

mackenyu: don’t worry oscarpiastri, i will only have her in the serie, no need to get jealous because she is in my arms sometimes and kissing my lips😉

User21: he did not

User22: HAHAHAHAHA

User23: zoro my man you’re iconic

oscarpiastri: i dont have to be jealous i am the only one who makes her scream

kimimatiasraikkonen: you are making me grandchildren, well yourname, your mom will be delighted

User24: not oscar getting jealous and kimi just simply saying that yourname mom want grand children

colbybrock: my man, oscarpiastri, can you ask when yourname will come and join one of mine video’s

Oscarpiastri: over my dead body colbybrock, then she will come back and be like omg Colby did this, colby did that, omg he is so hot, so no-uh

Yourusername: oscarpiastri you did not just out me

User25: oscar run

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

In the embrace of his arms, you experienced an overwhelming sensation of love and security. It was an emotion you had never anticipated, the profound knowledge that you had found your soulmate, the one destined for you. Astonishingly, here you were.

Oscar, with his gentle strokes and whispered endearments, devoted his attention to the tiny life growing within your womb. He shared tales of anticipation and dreams of the day when your child would join your world.

These fleeting instances were your sanctuary, moments untouched by external disruptions, the kind you yearned for relentlessly. Nothing could sever the bond that united you both during these precious times. The journey had been arduous, spanning five years to reach this juncture, three of which were spent in matrimonial bliss. Yet, you wouldn't alter a single detail of this extraordinary path.

Your love for this man transcended everything else in your world, second only to the imminent arrival of your child, and it was unassailable, impervious to any external influence.

#oscar piastri #formula 1 x reader #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 fic #f1 imagine #oscar piastri x reader #op81 #op81 x reader #mclaren imagine

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xxspringmelodyxx · 1 month

Text

I Will Always Love You~

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader

When a rival from your old high school comes in and tried to take your man

The bustling city streets buzzed with activity as Satoru Toru and you navigated through the throngs of people. Your footsteps fell in sync, a silent harmony amidst the chaos surrounding you. Satoru, with his trademark white hair and enigmatic gaze, exuded an aura of confidence that drew curious glances from passersby. Beside him walked you, your presence a calming influence amid the whirlwind of the city.

As the strongest sorcerer, Satoru was accustomed to attention. His power and charisma made him a magnet for admirers, both friend and foe alike. Yet, despite the constant clamor for his attention, there was only one person who truly captured his heart – you.

For two years, you had been inseparable, your bond forged through shared trials and triumphs in the world of sorcery. Your kind-hearted nature complemented Toru's boldness and strength perfectly, creating a harmony that transcended mere words.

On this particular day, your mission had led you to the heart of the city, where the streets teemed with life and energy. As you made your way through the crowded thoroughfare, a sudden rain shower descended from the heavens, catching you off guard. With a shared glance and a knowing smile, you quickened your pace, seeking shelter from the downpour.

Your refuge came in the form of a quaint little café nestled on a side street, its warm lights beckoning like a beacon of hope amidst the dreary weather. Stepping inside, you were greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Finding an empty table by the window, you and Toru settled in, shedding your damp outer layers and allowing the cozy ambiance to envelop you.

As you waited for your orders to arrive, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Toru, your heart swelling with affection at the sight of him. Despite his formidable reputation as the strongest sorcerer, there was a gentleness in the way he smiled, a warmth that seemed to radiate from within.

Satoru, however, noticed the little glances you would make towards him, and he absolutely loved it. The way your beautiful eyes stared at him with so much love and adoration. It was enough to make him melt on sight.

“You know,” Toru said, breaking the comfortable silence between you two, “every time you look at me like that, I feel like the luckiest man in the world.”

A blush crept onto your cheeks at his words, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “You’re the one who makes me feel lucky,” you replied softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His smile widened at your words, a warmth spreading through his chest.

You two continued to talk about a variety of topics. Your missions, your previous dates, future plans, you name it. You both just spent this time to talk.

Suddenly, a burst of laughter escaped you as Toru recounted a particularly amusing anecdote from one of your past missions. As you laughed, you felt his gaze lingering on you, a warmth spreading through your chest at the intensity of his stare.

“What?” you asked, unable to suppress the smile that danced on your lips.

Toru shook his head, a fond smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Nothing,” he replied softly. “You’re just so beautiful when you laugh.”

Your cheeks flushed pink at his words, a rush of warmth flooding your veins. “Stop it,” you protested, though the affection in your voice was undeniable.

“I mean it,” Toru insisted, his gaze unwavering. “You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

The sincerity in his voice took your breath away, leaving you speechless for a moment. But before you could respond, the moment was interrupted by the arrival of your drinks, effectively shifting the focus away from the intimate exchange.

A steaming cup of coffee for Toru and a soothing herbal tea for yourself. Continuing in your casual conversation, you went on to share stories of past adventures and dreams for the future, your laughter mingling with the soft patter of rain against the windowpane.

However, this was short lived as a certain person was about to ruin it for you. A woman who went by the name of Akane sat across from you two, a smile plastered on her face. Why was she so bad, you might ask? Well, its quite simple really. She wanted Toru. She was absolutely obsessed with him, almost to a point to where it was scary. Toru told you not to worry about it because he loved you and only you, but it wasn’t him you were worried about. No, you were worried about what Akane would do. She is crazy enough to try just about anything.

She was like this in high school as well. It was absolutely awful. Anytime you liked someone, she would try and steal them away…and usually it worked. Usually it was because she offered them something in return…all just to see you struggle. Shoko told you she was a bitch and a homewrecker, and even went as far as to say she would go out and fight her for you. You should’ve taken her up on that offer. Now here she was, and you were sure she was going to do anything to get Toru to leave with her.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Toru asked.

”O-Of course, why do you ask?”

“Because I just said I am going to move to Australia and forget my life as a sorcerer to become a local snake wrestler, and that we are going to have 8 cats while living in a small shed… and all you said was yeah,” he deadpanned, a teasing glint in his eye.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his absurd statement, grateful for the brief respite from the tension that hung in the air.

”I am fine…just got a bit distracted. But let's focus back onto ourselves.” You spoke, holding his hand in yours.

Amidst the continued laughter and lighthearted banter between you and Toru, there lingered an unspoken tension – a palpable undercurrent of something deeper, something unspoken. It was a tension born of your growing unease as you watched Akane begin to approach your table, her eyes fixed on Toru with an intensity that set alarm bells ringing in your mind.

Toru looked to where your eyes were, seeing none other than Akane herself. His smile faded as he knew where this was going. He felt your grip on his hand tighten a bit, to which he quickly caressed the back of it with his thumb, trying to reassure you.

”Hey Toru~” She spoke up, her voice holding a sultry tone to it.

“What brings you here, Akane?” Toru inquired, his tone polite but guarded.

“Oh, I was just passing by and thought I’d say hello,” she replied casually, though there was an unmistakable undercurrent of mischief in her voice.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes at her obvious deception, fully aware of her intentions. With calculated precision, she settled into the seat beside Toru, invading his personal space and causing him visible discomfort. Yet, when Toru glanced over at you, he was met with a sight that made his stomach churn. You, usually the epitome of kindness and gentleness, now emanated an aura of barely restrained fury, as though you were capable of unspeakable acts if provoked.

With a clenched jaw and a furrowed brow, you watched in silence as Akane leaned in closer, her voice dripping with honeyed words that made your stomach churn with unease. Despite the unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach, you refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing you falter. You stood up from your seat and began to move towards Toru.

The tension in the air was palpable, thick enough to suffocate as the other patrons glanced between you and Akane, their curiosity piqued by the unfolding drama. But amidst the chaos and confusion, there was one thing you knew for certain – you wouldn’t let Akane’s manipulative games get to you, not this time.

With each step, you could feel the weight of the room’s collective gaze bearing down on you, their curious stares like daggers piercing through the tension-filled air. But you refused to let their scrutiny deter you, your focus locked solely on the man who held your heart.

As you reached him, you didn’t utter a word. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his, pouring all of your pent-up emotions into the kiss. It was a kiss born of desperation and longing, a silent declaration of ownership in the face of perceived threat.

In that moment, the world around you faded into oblivion, leaving only you and Toru locked in a passionate embrace. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. And though you could still feel the lingering weight of Akane’s presence, it was no match for the overwhelming warmth of Toru’s love.

As the kiss deepened, a sense of euphoria washed over you, a tidal wave of emotion threatening to consume you whole. It was as though every worry and fear melted away in the heat of the moment, leaving only the blissful certainty of your love for each other.

Surprised at first, Toru quickly responded, his arms encircling your waist as he deepened the kiss with a fervor that matched your own. In that moment, any doubts or insecurities melted away, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of your love for each other.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and exhilarated, you were met with a mixture of shock and admiration from the surrounding patrons. But amidst the whispered murmurs and curious glances, there was one pair of eyes that held your gaze – Toru's eyes, sparkling with affection and pride.

"Well, that was unexpected, but I'm not complaining," he chuckled, his voice low and husky with emotion. His hand moved to the back of your neck, ready to kiss you again.

"Who knew you had a hint of jealousy in you? I have to admit, it's kind of hot." He spoke before going at it again.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at the sight of Toru's unwavering devotion. As you stole a glance at Akane, you noticed her jaw clenched tight, her hands balled into fists at her sides. Her eyes burned with a mixture of jealousy and rage, her carefully constructed facade shattered by the intensity of your connection with Toru.

Summoning every ounce of charm and charisma she possessed, she plastered on a saccharine smile and began to speak. “Well, well, well,” she cooed, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I must say, I didn’t expect to witness such a… passionate display of affection in public.”

Her words were laced with thinly veiled contempt, a subtle jab at your audacity to flaunt your love so openly. But rather than cower in the face of her thinly veiled hostility, you met her gaze with a steely resolve, your grip on Toru’s hand tightening in silent solidarity.

Toru, for his part, stopped kissing you and turned his head towards Akane. His eyes remained cool and composed, belying the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. With practiced ease, he slipped into his role of polite indifference, his voice a mask of civility as he addressed the intruder in their midst. “Can we help you with something?” he inquired, his voice betraying none of the irritation bubbling beneath the surface.

”Cause I was a bit preoccupied,” he interjected with a playful smirk, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he cast a knowing glance towards Akane, “You know, indulging in a little… passionate exchange with her.” He finished, tightening his grip around your waist. He was about to go back to kissing you, when she interrupted him.

She refused to be deterred, her facade of civility crumbling under the weight of her seething jealousy. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I want,” she replied, her tone dripping with venom as she turned her attention to Toru. “I want you, Satoru. And I won’t rest until you’re mine.”

Toru gave her a deadpanned look, completely in disbelief at her behavior.

“Oh come on, Toru~ Surely you don’t want to be with her for the rest of your life~ Think of all the fun you and I could have~” She said flirtatiously, walking her fingers up his arm.

Akane’s words hung in the air, heavy with malice and desperation, as Toru’s patience wore thin. With each flirtatious gesture, his irritation simmered beneath the surface, his resolve to protect your relationship unwavering.

As Akane’s fingers continued to trail up his arm, Toru’s expression shifted from disbelief to frustration. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered under his breath, his tone laced with exasperation.

With a gentle but firm touch, Toru removed Akane’s hand from his arm, his gaze hardening as he addressed her once more.

“I can’t believe you would ever think I would give up someone like her to be with someone as conniving and despicable as you,” Toru spat, his tone laced with venom as he delivered the cutting remark, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disgust.

As Toru’s words hung in the air, a tense silence enveloped the cafe, broken only by the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of dishes. Akane recoiled as though struck, her facade of confidence crumbling under the weight of Toru’s condemnation.

But instead of retreating, she squared her shoulders, her eyes flashing with defiance as she met Toru’s gaze head-on. “You’ll regret this, Satoru,” she hissed, her voice trembling with suppressed rage. “You think you can choose her over me? You’ll see just how wrong you are.”

Your eyes narrowed at her, anger hitting its breaking point with you as she threatened Satoru. You quickly looked towards her drink and snapped your fingers, causing the drink to burst all over her, making her stand up with surprise.

With determination, you came forward, your eyes blazing with grit as you addressed Akane. "Listen here, Akane," you began, your voice firm and unwavering. "You may think you have some kind of claim on Toru, but let me make one thing clear – he's not interested. He never was, and he never will be."

Your words cut through the tension like a knife, silencing Akane's protests in an instant. For the first time since her arrival, she was rendered speechless, her facade of confidence crumbling under the weight of your conviction.

"So let me make one thing abundantly clear," you continued, your gaze narrowing into a steely glare, "if you ever dare to come near us again, I won't hesitate to make sure you regret it. So do yourself a favor and stay away from us. Permanently."

With that final warning, you turned your back on Akane, refusing to dignify her with any further attention.

Your declaration hung in the air like a solemn decree, leaving no room for doubt or negotiation. Akane’s expression wavered for a moment, a flicker of defiance in her eyes, but ultimately she relented. With a defeated scoff, she slunk away, defeated by the unwavering strength of your resolve.

As the tension dissolved, a sense of peace settled over the café once more, the lingering threat of Akane’s presence evaporating into the ether.

Toru's touch was gentle yet firm as he lifted your chin, his fingers caressing your skin with a tenderness that belied the intensity in his gaze. With unwavering affection, he locked eyes with you, his expression a reflection of the depth of his feelings.

"You were amazing," he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper yet carrying the weight of his admiration. His thumb traced the curve of your jawline, a silent reassurance of his love and appreciation for you.

A blush tinged your cheeks at his words, your heart swelling with warmth at the sincerity in his gaze. "I couldn’t just sit there and watch. Especially not when she threatened you.” you replied, your own voice barely more than a breath as you returned his affectionate gaze.

In that moment, words seemed inadequate to convey the depth of emotion between you, yet the silent exchange spoke volumes. With a shared smile and a lingering touch, you found solace in each other's presence, knowing that together, you could weather any storm that came your way.

As the tension of the encounter with Akane faded into the background, a playful glint danced in Toru's eyes, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "You know," he began, his tone light and teasing, "Seeing you all worked up like that kind of stirred something deep within me~."

Your cheeks flushed at his suggestive remark, but you couldn’t help but laugh at his playful demeanor. “Oh really?” you replied, a hint of amusement in your voice. “And what, pray tell, does that ‘something’ entail?”

Toru’s grin widened, his gaze locking with yours in a playful challenge. “Well, I was thinking,” he murmured, his voice low and husky with anticipation, “that we could head back home and indulge in some... private festivities.

A playful smirk tugged at your lips as you considered his proposal, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. “Hmm, sounds intriguing,” you mused, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “And what would these ‘private festivities’ be, hmm?”

Toru's response was a playful wink and a devilish grin, his arm slipping around your waist as he guided you towards the door. "I guess you'll just have to wait and see," he teased, his voice filled with anticipation and excitement. "But trust me, it'll be worth the wait."

With a laugh and a playful swat at his arm, you followed him out of the café, your hearts light and spirits high as you embarked on the next chapter of your adventure together.

”Oh, and baby?” Toru started, making you look up at him.

He grabbed your face and planted his lips on yours, igniting a flame within yourself once again.

After a few seconds passed, he let go and looked into your eyes, kissing your cheeks.

”Know that I will always love you, no matter what. I will always be with you, even when you get tired of me. After all, you are my one and only. No one will ever change that~” He finished, making your heart leap out of your chest. You smiled up at him and kissed his nose

”I could never get tired of you, my love. And I love you, too~” You said, smiling up at him. You both continued your way back to your house, hand in hand, hearts entwined, ready to be alone in each other's presence.

————————————

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khaosrealms · 6 months

Text

YUE LAO’S BLESSINGS (part three!) / saying i love you— as if urged by the gods themselves.

a/n: i promise you all that a part to the princess series is in the works (along with many other things) but i saw y’all have been liking this a whole lot! as such, here you go— a part three to satisfy your needs ! 🩵

LIU KANG:

"I love you" from Liu Kang is all-encompassing, all-knowing. You know you're not his first love, and perhaps, you won't ever be the full holder of his adoration-- but there's no cruelty in that truth. "I love you" is a steady hand on your back, a gaze that never aches, a kiss where you are the first to part and him the first to watch as you return. "You are perfect." And he's so certain as he says it because he knows. Because Liu Kang is the maker of your existence-- but every step that you've taken to him is in your wonderful image.

KUAI LIANG:

"I love you" is devotion from Kuai Liang. Certainty, stability. It is the mornings when you wake with him, enveloped in his arms, and his eyes have yet to open. Trusting you with every ounce of his body and soul; smiling as you kiss him, his heart pounding against your chest. "I love you" is the times where he searches for you, whether in combat or training; to return back to you, his love, to protect and be protected by you. "There you are, my love." Kuai Liang sighs, with every bit of relief and adoration he can muster. Here, back in his arms; as perfect as the day he fell for you.

ASHRAH:

"I love you" are newfound words for Ashrah. The first steps of many in becoming human. They are awkward words on her tongue and stumbled movements. Hands held too long, kisses left too quickly. "I love you" is learning from you, learning the ways you blush under her touch, the things that make you smile and moan. "You are my first love." Ashrah admits, tangled in her arms, the sweat of your sex still fresh on each other's skin. Smiling, every bit as radiant as the sun.

HAVIK:

"I love you" is your binding contract with Havik. It is a promise that you will be there, always, forever; through the chaos, through the realms, there with him till the world stops to spin. "I love you" is gasping for breath every time you kiss, begging for more time, for every chance you can spare to be with one another in the turmoil of it all. "Our love will never cease." Dairou promises, the pulse of his own heart, wretched from his chest, steady in the palm of your hand. His blood melding with your own in beautiful, grotesque harmony.

#mortal kombat x reader #liu kang x reader #kuai liang x reader #havik x reader #ashrah x reader #mk1 imagines #liu kang so so fine and for what...#this one i had a lot of fun w/ idk why #maybe bc these are all like #my boos #LOLLL #havik :unearthly groaning:#enjoy!#yue lao imagine

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the-kr8tor · 5 months

Text

Sparring with Hobie

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Synopsis: They say opposites attract, but what happens when two people with similar attitudes attract each other? Will there be an explosion of identical energies or will they end up melding together in perfect harmony?

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (Hobie is mentioned taller than her though), pre-relationship, Flirty and Confident! Reader, spider-woman! Reader. Lovestruck! Hobie. Suggestive content, FLUFF.

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My Masterlist

Hobie lumbers through the dim hallways of the society. The world outside is still slumbering, light snores coming from the many dorms of the building. His trainers squeak on the linoleum floors, a yawn escaping him. He's unable to fall asleep, the last mission brought back bad memories up to the surface. He blinks slowly, hands still aching from the fight.

His target is the training grounds, maybe some exercise and quick swinging will tire him out and distract him from his own thoughts. Finally reaching the double doors to the training area, instead of finding it devoid of human life, he finds you in your athletic clothes, bare arms in full display.

The bright lights from the holograms almost blind him, but your smile is more blinding than the blinking lights.

You stop stretching, grinning sweetly in his direction, eyes twinkling in the orange lights, skin glinting from sweat. Yet, He's never seen anyone look this good. He thinks he's unworthy of the sight.

“Hi, Hobie” your voice is smooth like velvet, he's suddenly conscious of the bags under his eyes. “What're you doing up, gorgeous?”

Gorgeous? Oh you're horrid. Hobie feels his heart beat faster and faster with every second that passes with your eyes staying on him. He turns into mush, he hopes you don't notice.

But of course he's not gonna let himself lose against you and your pretty eyes. Goddamnit, why does your eyes look like that? And why do you look like you're about to eat him up in one swift bite?

“What are you doin' up, lovie?” Hobie does his best at walking normally towards you, but how could he remember how to when you're smiling so sweetly at him? He leans against the console that he hopes looks extremely cool in your eyes.

You beam at him, hands tucked behind you like you're hiding a secret that you're just about to show him. “Touché, I couldn't sleep. You?”

He sighs, not from the late hour but from you staring deep into his eyes. Hobie knew he's met his match the moment you two met on one of the many dimensions, and one of the many variants of Morbius who tried to take a chunk out of you, who was met with a hefty amount of your foot on the villain’s face, fangs falling out of his mouth like dollar store dentures.

Hobie, after seeing you kick the would-be vampire, said something witty with hints of flirty undertones that he couldn't possibly remember because of your reply.

“You could bite me anytime, Spider-Man”

Hobie could only remember you, from your suave wink thrown at him to the way you're a shining beacon of hope against the backdrop of chaos committed by a villain who was clearly not a match for you.

You've left him speechless on that dirty rooftop, with only a quick ‘see you later!’ and a swing towards another villain. You were right, you did see him later, and then a few days later and then mere hours after that. For some reason after your fated meeting he finds it hard for him to miss your form amidst the crowd of spiderpeople.

He keeps seeing you around, sauntering the halls of the society like you own the place. With confidence of a woman that even Miguel would falter in your presence. The day he met you was months ago, yet you've still got him wrapped around your pinky. You two have grown accustomed to each other, a blooming friendship amidst the desire to be more than friends.

“Couldn't sleep either.” his voice almost cracks, he clears his throat to hide the almost mistake.

You hum in understanding, “Wanna spar then?”

“What do I get when I win?” He exudes the same amount of charm.

You chuckle, it's music to his ears. “If you win.” taking a step forward, your foot in between his feet, lashes fluttering, arms on his sides, trapping him in between the console and your body.

He stops breathing.

“Let's find out what your prize is then, shall we?” You press a button right near the small of his back, just when your finger is about to graze his shirt, you slide your hand away.

The holograms retract to the walls, leaving an empty space in the middle. The floor opens up, a circular mat emerges from the opening.

Leaning away, you continue to hold his gaze, walking to the mat in the middle of the floor.

Hobie can now breathe again.

“Come on, Spider-Man. Are you scared?” you step inside the circle, hands casually on your hips. Smirking at Hobie. “It's just me, Hobs. Nothing to be scared of”

“I once saw you dismantle Doc Ock's tentacles in one pull. But you're right, nothin’ to be scared of.” A twin smirk plays on his lips, walking towards the only one who causes his hands to shake.

You giggle, “It wasn't that impressive, it was just titanium is all.” Readying your stance, you make sure your feet are planted on the mat, hands raised to protect your face, never letting your gaze waver from the man who makes your heart flutter.

“You're the one who kicked earth-790’s vulture's ass within three minutes of him entering the dimension.” you compliment him, but your eyes are determined to show him what you've got.

“Nah, it was child's play” Hobie readies a more defensive stance, he knows how you fight after seeing you beat countless villains.

You're more on the defense, always protecting yourself first, biding your time for just the right opening to strike a hundred times harder than your opponent. So he'll do the same, if you can't beat them join them, right? He knows you're one of the best if not the best fighter in the society, Hobie knows he'll have a chance at defeating you, and possibly winning the bet, because he knows you.

He knows you well enough that you favor your right side when fighting, always leaning to the right, always throwing the first punch with your right knuckles. He knows what makes you laugh the hardest and what makes you tick. He knows your favourite day is Wednesday because that's when the cafeteria serves your favourite, and that's when he would always talk his way into the front line just so you could get it first.

He won't go easy on you because he knows you won't go easy on him.

“What do you say we do first blood or first one to yield?”

“First to yield, don't want to scrub your blood off the mats.” Hobie teases. You roll your eyes at his quip but you can't hide your smile.

“Let’s see how much you've improved from last time, handsome” you unknowingly throw him off his balance with the nickname.

“Whenever you're ready, love” he unintentionally does the same to you.

You stomp your foot once, signaling the training ai to start the sparring simulation. Bright red lights emerge from the circular line upwards, a barrier that bathes you both in its glow. A robotic voice counts down.

You furrow your brows in an attempt to stop yourself from ogling him.

Hobie swallows a lump in his throat, his mind lingering from the last time you trained together. The heat from the skin on skin contact.

With you above him breathing heavily, smiling triumphantly as you win for the third time.

He shakes his thoughts, concentrating on winning. Hobie wonders what he'll win when he finally gets the upper hand. Maybe another little adventure with you in your dimension perhaps?

No one moves after the buzzer.

You both observe each other, with every twitch of muscle, one would flick their eyes towards it, studying it whether or not the other would decide to be on the offensive. You take note of his better stance, a soft smile on your lips, knowing that you're the one who taught him that.

You start moving, circling him like a prey, eyes trained on Hobie. Your feet move precisely after the other, you're getting dangerously close to him. For his own safety (and sanity) he moves away, copying your movements, circling each other like some bird mating dance.

Smirking, you shake your head, quietly chuckling a taunt. “Well, one of us has to move eventually”

“Not gonna be me, sweets. Sorry”

“Let's see about that–” you fake a lunge towards him.

Hobie doesn't flinch, not even a blink. You commend him with a hearty laugh.

“Havin’ fun? Thought we were fighting” Hobie would savour your laugh but he has to keep his focus. Unfortunately it's hard to focus when it's you.

“We are–” you pounce, knuckles ready to strike.

Hobie felt the air rush around him when you lunged, he kept to his plan. Defending his face, thinking that's where you'll strike. He sees your face in between his arms, winking all the while, then for a millisecond, you're gone.

He forgets that you know him too.

Acquainted with his spidey senses, you drop to your knees before he could react. Right before he could jump away or do anything to prevent you from hitting him, you sweep both of his legs.

From the shock, he stumbles, tripping on your leg. Hobie lands on the mat, wind knocked right out of him.

He suddenly sees your face in all its glory. Your eyes twinkle with amusement. You straddle his torso, legs tight on his sides, your hands lock his shoulders in place.

“That's dirty” he heaves, not from the fall but from how close your smug face is to his rare flustered one.

“You gotta be ready for anything when it comes to fighting.” You're completely enamored by the goofy smile on his face, his head tilted to the side as if you didn't knock him off his ass within a second.

“What if I told you I just like the view from down here?”

“You should see it from up here then, it's much” you lean closer, breath fanning over his unfairly long eyelashes. “Much prettier up here in the winner's position”

Hobie resists the urge to lift his head up to meet your lips, He finds it hard not to, it's taking every single one of his willpower not to indulge.

And perhaps you're doing the same, neck aching from pulling yourself just a few inches away.

“Hobie, I–” you get flinged back, guessing you forgot to secure his legs too. Whoops.

He does the same to you with the use of his longer legs, taking advantage of your lack of spider sense. Hobie uses the lull as an opportunity to hook his leg to yours. In one precise movement (that he definitely didn't practice a hundred times alone at home) the position now changed.

You lay on the mat, eyes wide, pupils dilated and mouth agape at the sight in front of you. The red lights around his face makes your little nickname for him absolutely true to form. You're trapped under his gaze, limbs secured, unable to move a muscle.

Hobie leaves you speechless for the first time.

“You're right, the view is prettier up here” he says with a thumping heart. Your heart does the same, skipping a beat at his flirtatious comment.

There's a growing smile on your lips and you can't seem to find it in yourself to tear your eyes off him.

“Care to say uncle?” he taps your wrists that's still pinned above you, “because this doesn't look too comfortable for you”

You try to shrug but you're unable. You fake an exasperated sigh. “Quite the opposite actually, I find being under you comfortable”

“Bloody hell” Hobie clicks his tongue. Looking anywhere but your pretty face.

“Sorry, too much?” Are you being too flirty with him? Making him uncomfortable? “I'm sorry” your smile falters. “I'll toned it down, Hobie”

“No,” he swallows a lump in his throat. “You're never too much, not to me anyway” He watches as your smile softens.

The mat crinkles under your head as you nod. “Okay”

“Ready to say uncle now?” you chuckle, the atmosphere lighter than before.

“Unfortunately, yes. I yield”

He guffaws in triumph, releasing you from his hold that you already seem to miss.

“Got you didn't I?” Hobie’s knees creek as he stands up, offering his hand for you to take.

You hold his hand, warmth spreading through your palms. “So that's one for you and nineteen for me”

He doesn't let go of your hand, you rub the back of his hand with your thumb, your way of showing affection just for him.

“Way to rub it in, love” Hobie steps closer to you until the tips of your shoes meet his.

Giggling, “You did a good job, handsome. You're gonna surpass me one day.”

“‘m good where I am, love” you smile at the implication.

“Okay, what do you want? Claim your prize”

He thinks, maybe asking you out would be too presumptuous of him, you have that effect on him. After a minute or so, you roll your eyes, huffing.

“How about dinner instead?”

Hobie blinks in surprise, maybe you gave him a concussion?

“It doesn't have to be dinner though, we can just go out like the usual–”

After recovering from the shock, he answers back.

“Your dimension or mine?”

A/N: hehe thank you for reading! 🫶

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dazedandconfused-15 · 22 days

Text

Heaven's in your eyes

This is to answer a request I received from an anonymous user a couple of months ago “Billy asks shy reader out and is protective over her”, for some reason I can't directly respond to their post still getting used to Tumblr. Sorry for taking a while to write this one. Anyway, I got a little bit carried away and turned it into a short fic, I just loved the whole concept. I’ll definitely post a part 2. Comments and constructive opinions are always appreciated 🩷

Part 1

You have always watched him from a distance.

There was something magnetic about him. Where he was, energy swirled.

You have never spoken to him. He’s something inaccessible to you. He hangs out with the popular crowd. Yet, unlike all of them, he doesn’t seem to pretend. He doesn’t show up. He naturally exudes an aura that makes him alluring. He’s not just what could be called "hot." No, he’s beautiful. When you first saw him in the school hallways, you could swear that for a second, your heart stopped. He was playing with his lighter, walking with an assured stride in the direction of his classroom with Jason Carver. He was a palette of contrasting colors that stood out in perfect harmony. His tanned face was framed by long, golden curls that almost fell over his shoulders. He looked straight ahead as he listened to the boy at his side with his red mouth stretched into a smirk that revealed white teeth. His cupid bow was dusted with stubble. It was no surprise that most of the girls looked at him with no shame, the shyest ones glancing up as soon as he passed them. That California boy did not look like a boy. He looked like a man. You could tell by the way he was built, the black leather jacket hugging his broad shoulders, the muscular legs in his denim jeans.

You had realized that you were staring openly at him when he passed by you and, probably feeling the weight of your gaze on him, his eyes had met yours. There, something had happened inside you. His eyes were the purest blue you had ever seen. They were crystalline. But it was the long dark lashes that gave his gaze something expressive and unique. They were the embodiment of what is called a piercing gaze. It was a unique paradox: as angelic as it was rough in outline. Awakening from your enchantment, you lowered your gaze with an abrupt jerk of your head and resumed putting your books away in the locker, feeling your cheeks on fire and your heart beating wildly.

That was the only time you had even a remote semblance of contact with him.

As you rush to your English literature class a month later, rounding the corner of the hallway, the last thing you expect is to bump into him. You let out an "ouch" as you collide with his hard chest, your notes and pencil case tumbling to the ground in the chaos. It's only when you raise your eyes in a flurry of apologies that you realize who you've bumped into. You swallow, kneeling and picking up your notes hastily.

"You alright?"

"Yes. Yes." the notes slip through your shaking fingers.

His hands appear in your field of vision, and when you accidentally touch them, an electric shock almost makes you wince. He helps you pick them up, then raises to his feet and holds them to you. You thank him, thinking about what else you could say to avoid making the situation awkward. His baby blue shirt matches the color of his eyes. He’s even prettier from closer.

"Aren’t you in history class with me ?"

His question surprises you. You didn't think he would remember you. You didn't think he would notice you.

"Yes. That's right."

He holds out his hand, his heavy-lidded gaze on you. "Billy."

You shake his hand, introducing yourself. His hand is large and his grip his firm, but gentle at the same time. That touch makes your stomach tangle. You can't believe he is talking to you.

"You're new, right?" you ask. You know fully well that he arrived here a month ago. You know full well that he is from California. He probably knows that you know, but he doesn't say anything about it

"Yes. Moved here last month."

“Oh, okay. Welcome to Hawkins, then.” you say gently as you absently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Thanks.”

There’s a beat of silence, him probably waiting for you to say something else. You point at the door down the hallway, starting to walk away. “I ah, I have to go to class. Sorry.”

And you walk away, no, you scurry away, almost escaping him, feeling a pang of embarrassment as you replay the scene later in your head, regretting how abruptly you left without saying more.

You don’t cross paths with him again after that. However, you are clearly more aware of his presence during history classes even though you don’t interact again.

In recent months, you've adopted a strategy of minimizing your visibility as much as possible. It’s not always easy. That Thursday is one of the hard days. Mr. Jensen, the new history teacher, makes his way through the rows of desks, collecting permission slips signed by parents for the upcoming day trip he has organized to Indianapolis.

"Ah, I don't seem to have your permission slip yet," he inquires gently as he sees you empty-handed. "Did you forget to bring it today?"

Feeling the eyes of everyone on you, your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you shake your head, your voice barely above a whisper. You hate all of this attention on you. "I, um, I haven't been able to get it signed yet. My dad's been working double shifts, and I haven't caught him at home."

“I understand,” the teacher says, “But I need to give all the signed papers to the principal by tomorrow. Is it possibly to get it signed today? By your mother, perhaps?”

Before you could answer, Tommy Hagan's voice pierces the air, his tone laced with mockery. "She's probably halfway across the country by now, cozying up with some other guy."

You don’t even turn to look at him. You saw it coming. It’s been five months since she left now. Hawkins is a small town, so the news spread quickly. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, avoiding eye contact with your classmates as you feel the weight of their curious gazes.

"I uh...I just," you try to ignore Tommy's comment, resting your eyes on the professor whose eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. "I'll tell my dad tonight. He's just been really busy. I will bring it to class tomorrow."

“If he comes back with the milk.” snickers Tommy.

You stiffen instantly without wanting to, which the teacher doesn’t fail to notice.

“That's enough, Mr. Hagan. Comments like that have no place in my classroom.” he snaps as his eyes darken, his jaw set. His expression softens as he turns to me “Don't worry about the permission slip for now. We'll make sure you're included."

As the professor returns to his seat, your eyes remain fixed on the spot where the bench is chipped, absently touching it with your fingernail. Your body fails to relax as you fight to ignore the burning in your throat, careful not to blink, your vision blurred for a few moments. But Tommy's yelp draws your attention and you turn your head to your left, where he is sitting next to Billy.

“Ow. What was that for, man?”

Tommy is rubbing his shoulder, his face scrunched up in pain and a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his face. Billy stares straight ahead, his face cold and hard.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he eventually mutters under the teacher’s explanation. However, it sounds more like a statement than a question.

As you go back to stare at your desk, your throat is still burning but your vision is clear again. You wonder if what Billy said was because of Tommy's comments. Why would he defend you?

The rest of the class passes in a blur of confusion and unanswered questions. Tommy's hurtful words echo in your mind, leaving you shaken and upset, the sting of their cruelty lingering long after the bell rings.

***

On the morning of the school trip, you are tempted to call the school and say you are sick, but your father comes back from the plant later in the morning and will see that you are actually fine. Also, Mr. Jensen might suspect that something is going on. Only, the idea of spending the day with the whole class, but feeling more alone than you are when you're at school, doesn't appeal to you. You've never been very outgoing. Since your mother left, the armor that covered you has only thickened, alienating you from the rest of the world. To this day you have received no answers. She left overnight without warning. You never received a call. You knew that things had not been going well between your parents for some time. Or rather, your mother kept complaining about how being in Hawkins was suffocating her, how she was no longer happy. The pain was slowly becoming coated with resentment. She had abandoned you and your father as if nothing had happened, as if years of living together had counted for nothing. As if being a family had cost nothing. Arriving on the ground floor and finding the kitchen light off had now become a habit, not an odd occurrence. Other things had become routine: the unaccustomed silence in your house, the TV once perpetually on now always off, the teapot once always in use was now in the kitchen drawer.

Once on the school bus, you spend your time looking out the window and counting the trees on the distant hills. You can feel the wind blowing outside, the rain pelting cruelly on the window. A crack lets a trickle of air through, making you shiver and clench tighter in your jacket. The ride at least passes quietly, no one talking to you or bothering you. Tommy Hagan keeps his comments to himself, too busy jabbering in the back of the bus with his band of friends. You can hear the occasional shrillness in the voice of Carol Perkins, his girlfriend.

You spend almost the entire morning in the Indiana Historical Society, following the professor through the corridors of the museum. You stay in the background, drowning out the guide's voice and looking at the paintings hanging on the wall. As you change rooms, you realize that you are not the only one who has remained aloof. Billy Hargrove lingers to your side at the back of the row of students, his hands tucked into his leather jacket. You try not to be affected by his presence, suddenly self-conscious of the way you walk and breathe. You still remember what he told Tommy Hagan the week before. You are increasingly convinced that he defended you. As the class spreads in different directions, everyone observing something different and speaking lowly in small groups you realize he’s still here, on your side. As you ponder if you should say something, or just assume that he’s walking behind on his own, he catches you off guard.

“Kinda boring, huh?”

“Yeah, a little," you respond, offering him a small smile that probably looks like a grimace. "History isn't my cup of tea."

“Mine neither,” his gaze scans the display cases lining the wall on your left. “Beats being seated all day in class, though.”

“Definitely,” you nod in agreement as you slowly cross through another room. Desperately trying to fill the silence, you come up with the first thing that crosses your mind. “I’ve been here before.”

“The museum?”

“Indianapolis,” you say. You hesitate before finishing your thoughts. “My grandma lived here. I spent some weekends at hers.”

Billy hums. He sniffs, then retrieves some chewing gums from his back pocket. He unwraps one. “How’s the city?”

“It’s great. Oh, thank you.” you softly say as you take the gum he’s offering you. “There are some nice parks.”

He pops the chewing gum in his mouth. “We have quite a few in San Diego too.

You turn toward him, curiosity overcoming your shyness. “You lived in San Diego?”

“Yes. Big change of scenery.”

“I can imagine.” your gaze wanders to the antique objects displayed in a glass case. “I’ve seen pictures, it looks incredible.” memories of your dad's album, from when he was young, flood your mind – images of palm trees swaying in the breeze, golden beaches stretching for miles, and endless blue skies that seemed to merge seamlessly with the ocean.

“That’s something else, yeah. Honestly, I couldn’t complain at all.”

“I wish I could see California,” you say a little dreamily.

“I can take you one day.”

Your throat feels suddenly dry. So you let out a nervous giggle, avoiding his gaze, assuming he is joking. Fortunately, the professor calls your attention back. It's lunchtime and he tells you that you are free to go wherever you want, as long as you are outside the museum within four hours. You told your father the school would pay for the student's lunch because you know times are tough. He insisted on giving you ten dollars in case you need it.

You walk down the steps of the museum looking around and thinking about where you could make all this time go. It's going to be long. You know a few restaurants, but you know that your pocket money is clearly not enough to eat there. A gust of wind brings the smell of smoke to your nostrils, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy stop beside you. His eyes take in your surroundings.

“So, you told me you know the city.”

“Huh, yes,” you answer, a little lost. “Not all of it, but most of it, like downtown.”

Billy exhales the smoke he’s been holding in his mouth. “Are we downtown?”

You look around, recognizing the skyscrapers in the distance. "Yes," you point to the skyline to your right, figuring he simply wants to ask you for information so he knows where to go with his friends. "It's over there."

“Sweet. You hungry?”

The silence that passes between the two of you makes him turn toward you, waiting for your response. So you rush to answer, ignoring the way his piercing blue eyes make you feel self-conscious.

“Yes. Yes, a little bit,” then you ask him, unsure: “...are you?”

“Starving.” he resumes walking down the stairs again, and you follow him, trying to figure out if he really means what you think he means. Some classmates are already leaving in different directions. “You know someplace to eat?”

“I do. But I don’t have enough. In case you want to go together. If that’s what you were offering.” You add, mentally slapping yourself. Why does everything you say have to come across as weird? Besides, you just admitted that you are practically out of money. “I can show you, though.”

Billy shakes his head, shifting in his leather jacket. “Nah, don’t worry about it. It’s on me.”

“No, really, I can't let you do that," you insist, your voice tinged with concern. "I mean, I appreciate it, but I can't just let you pay for me."

Billy turns to you, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he exhales the smoke sideways. "Come on, it's no big deal," he reassures you. "Consider it my way of saying thanks for showing me around. Besides, it's not like I'm short on cash."

You hesitate for a moment. But ultimately, you know that accepting his offer would ease the burden on your wallet. With a resigned sigh, you nod in agreement. "Okay, if you insist," you concede, offering him a small smile. "But just this once.”

You wanna immediately grimace at your pathetic implication that there would be another time, but Billy doesn’t seem to notice anyway.

He just winks at you. And even if he’s not smiling or anything, it still makes your stomach flip. "Deal," he says. "Now, lead the way."

As you walk beside each other through the park later on, you relish in what surrounds you, not even realizing the silence that has settled between the two of you because it feels so natural. Some people are jogging, there are some families too, or people walking alone headed who knows where. The birds are chirping in the trees that are alongside the walk. You spot a squirrel scurrying up the trunk of one of them, its fluffy tail waving wildly. The late afternoon sun is shining right in front of you, hitting your skin in a gentle caress. Spring is gradually unfurling its colors, bringing with it a glimmer of warmth that has been absent from your life lately. In the midst of the cold and desolation that settled in after your mother's departure, this glimpse of light offers a tentative promise of renewal, a small beacon of hope amid the darkness that has enveloped you and your father. You glance at Billy, realizing that in the short span of your conversation, he's frequently reached for a cigarette. Yet, even during the moments when he abstained, like in the museum and at the restaurant, his mouth was never empty. It was either occupied by a mint, a bite of burger, the straw of his milkshake, or eventually a toothpick found on the table.

“So, uhm, have you been somewhere else besides San Diego or Hawkins?” you venture.

“Nope”, he answers, the “p” resounding loudly. He looks around, one hand in his jacket pocket as the other one holds the cigarette on his side. “Never moved from Cali. I was born in Santa Barbara. Then moved to San Diego when I was ten.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Is Santa Barbara close to the ocean?”

“It is. I’ve always lived by the ocean.”

You turn to him, enthusiasm laced in your voice as you get carried away in the conversation. “So you know how to surf?”

Billy chuckles, nodding as he brings the cigarette to his lips. “I do, yeah. Surfed every day.”

“Wow.” you breathe, your mind wandering away. “It must be…like an adrenaline rush.”

As Billy exhales the smoke, you don’t miss the nostalgic glint flickering in his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. "Yeah, it's something else. There's nothing quite like catching a wave, feeling the power of the ocean beneath you."

“I’ve heard it’s hard to learn.” you muse softly.

The rhythmic sound of your footsteps punctuates the conversation. Billy stays silent for a few seconds, probably lost in his thoughts. Then he shrugs. “To be honest, I was on the surfboard since I was a child, so must’ve been natural for me. But yeah, it generally is.

“I can only imagine," you respond, a sense of longing in your voice. You’ve only seen this kind of landscape in pictures or on TV. "Must have been amazing growing up with that kind of freedom."

Billy's sigh is loud as he exhales a plume of smoke, his gaze drifting towards the horizon. "It was. Surfing was my escape, you know? Whenever things got tough, I could just grab my board and disappear into the waves."

What he says lightens some curiosity in you. You wonder what he means by that. You wonder what he went through, what his past was like. There’s something really intriguing about him. But you refrain from asking more, aware of how little you know each other. Besides, you can’t help but notice the little twitch of his jaw muscles as he says it.

"It’s always been books for me.” you offer. “They have this way of transporting you to another world, making you forget about everything else."

Billy nods in understanding. “What kinda books you read?”

“Oh,” you look at your shoes as you feel suddenly vulnerable. You almost feel ashamed of your taste in books, but you know you shouldn’t. “A bit of everything, really. I’m reading a Dostoevsky one right now.

“Dostoevsky, huh? Pretty heavy stuff,” he says, arching an eyebrow.

“You’ve read some of him before?

“I read Dream of a Ridiculous Man. A long time ago though.”

“Oh,” you breathe, recalling how challenging it was to finish it when you read it a couple of months ago. Reading books by Dostoevsky, especially that one, has been both a cathartic and enlightening experience. They made you feel less alone in your pain. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it’s kinda controversial.” he grimaces. “It’s a fucking depressing book. But... it's like... there's something about it that just... resonates, you know what I mean? Like, you read it and... it's like looking into a mirror, but... the reflection's all twisted and weird. I don't know if that makes any sense.” he shrugs.

It couldn’t make more any sense to you. For the first time, you feel understood in that sense. It's a relief to know that you're not alone in finding meaning within its pages. His words resonate deeply with you.

“I totally get it. That’s part of the reason why I like his books.”

The subtle revelation hangs in the air with the rhythmic sound of your footsteps on the concrete path. You hope he’s not reflecting on your words too much, aware of what you’ve implied. Your own thoughts go on what he said. Why did Billy resonate so much with the book? What if there’s something everybody can relate to, even people who haven’t experienced anything bad in life?

“What about you?” he then asks. “Always been in Hawkins?”

“Born and raised.” you nod. Then you add, a bit sheepishly: “Nothing like California, unfortunately.”

Billy snorts, flicking his cigarette. “What’s there to do in summer?”

“Oh uh. Nothing much. We have a public pool.” you offer, looking at him.

Billy takes a drag, his eyes trailing on the path in front of both of you.

“We have Lover’s Lake too,” you add. “It’s quite nice, actually. People spend the day there and have barbecues or campfires.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard about that one,” he says. “You guys party by the lake during summer or something like that.”

“Yes.” then you keep quiet for a few breaths, imagining he’s probably heard it from one of his friends from the basketball team. They’re usually to host parties or organize them. It always involves loads of alcohol and ends up in big scandals. You feel the urge to correct him. “Not me, though. I don’t, uh…I don’t party.”

You feel his eyes on you. “Makes sense.”

You look up at him in question.

“Didn’t see you at the Halloween party.”

“The one hosted by Tina Williams?” you soon look away as soon as you meet his gaze. “I didn’t know you…you noticed.”

“Would’ve sure as hell noticed if you were there.”

As Billy's words settle in, you feel a warmth spreading through you, starting from the tips of your ears and flushing your cheeks crimson. His simple compliment catches you off guard, igniting a whirlwind of emotions within you. You find yourself struggling to meet his gaze, your eyes flickering away as you search for some semblance of composure. None of this makes sense. The mere fact that he recognized your absence at the party, that he shared lunch with you, that he's now walking beside you in the park—it all feels inexplicable. You're accustomed to blending into the background, being an outcast in the bustling halls of the school. You're no stranger to the whispers that swirl around you, painting you as the outsider, the comments about your situation at home, the subtle jabs at your circumstances. The silence between you stretches, pregnant with unspoken thoughts.

“You’re alright?” you hear him ask.

You slow down, lingering to a stop as you realize Billy has stopped walking too. He looks down at you with a hint of curiosity, the sun caressing his golden skin and reflecting in his eyes, becoming like polished, crystalline gems. That’s when you notice little details you haven’t paid attention to before. The scar cutting through his right eyebrow, the pattern of freckles dusting his nose.

“I guess I’m just a little confused,” you admit.

Billy exhales the smoke from his nostrils, his gaze effortlessly fixed intensely on you. “Why is that?”

“I just…” you try to not avoid his gaze. “Why are you here with me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement and what looks like genuine confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

His question is so simple it takes you off guard. Makes you question your reasoning. As you’re at a loss for words, you feel a blush slowly creeping down your cheeks.

Billy’s lips slowly curve into a smile, somewhat teasing. “You really have pretty eyes, you know that?”

You’re positively sure you’re as red as a lobster now, a little whine escaping your lips as embarrassment settles over you. It’s the most instinctual reaction. It makes him chuckle, and makes you awkwardly laugh in response, because what else can you do? He tilts his head to the side, trying to meet your avoiding eyes.

“How about that? I’m here with you ‘cause of your pretty eyes”.

“I really don’t think they’re that special.” you shake your head, still laughing.

You’re not that innocent to not realise he’s openly flirting with you. You’re not surprised, because just looking at him is enough. You’ve also heard things about him and some girls at high school. What surprises you, is that he’s flirting with you. You don’t have that much experience in the love department, but there’s something sincere and genuine in the way he’s doing it now. There’s something soft in his eyes that tells you he’s sincere.

“Well, it’s a shame,” he says, that’s when you realise how much closer you are to each other. You can tell by how you can smell the tobacco and his cologne, his silver earring shining as it catches the sun. He tilts his head again, this time catching your gaze as you muster the courage to lock eyes with him. “’Cause you have beautiful eyes.”

“Thank you,” you mumble with a shy smile, nodding your head slightly. You swear you can hear your heartbeat in your ears.

You feel like you want to return the compliment because his eyes are the reason why your heart is reacting the way it does. But then again, you’re too shy to do that, and a tiny part of you thinks it would make things weird or would end up having you vulnerable because you don’t know for sure if his compliment is fueled by real interest in you.

“I just don’t hang out with anyone, trust me.”

As a distant church bells toll four times, their echoes drifting across the park, a subtle reminder of the passing time washes over you both. The realization settles in that it’s time for you to go. You should be back in front of the museum in half an hour.

Luckily, Billy saves you from answering as he breaks eye contact and looks up beyond your shoulder, where the church is. “We should go,” he says.

As you walk back to the museum, you think about his words. Now you realize that you didn’t see him hanging around Tommy Hagan lately. In particular, today on the bus, the latter was seated with his girlfriend and hung out with two other members of the basketball team. Billy was somewhere else the whole time.

When you two reach the museum, the teacher is already counting everyone to make sure the whole class is there. Billy joins his mates, elbowing one of them in a friendly gesture. You didn’t fail the notice the looks most of your classmates shot at you when he saw you two arrive together. The teacher draws the class's attention back to the trip, prompting feedback and reflections from everyone.

What you don’t expect either once on the bus, is feeling someone sitting on the empty seat next to yours. Billy gets comfortable, making it seem something so normal as he stretches his long legs as far as the cramped quarters allow. His thigh brushes against yours and your heart jumps a little in your ribcage, but a few minutes later you start to relax. You can’t help the feeling of warmth spreading through your chest as you take in his choice to sit deliberately next to you. You don’t need to fill the silence, or at least not as strongly as a few hours ago. You’re also quite tired. As you venture a glance in his direction, Billy’s eyes are closed. It seems you’re not the only one feeling tired. His arms are crossed over his chest but his facial features are totally relaxed now that he’s dozing off, his head resting against the seat. His hair seems soft at the touch, a curl falling unruly on his forehead. You feel the distant urge to wrap it around your finger, brush it from his face. There is a difference between now and when he’s fully awake: his expression softened, his gaze peaceful, and his features relaxed. It's a stark contrast from the demeanor you've observed from a distance, where his smile is more wolfish, his facial muscles tense, and his eyes often distant or bored. You force yourself to look away from him, setting your gaze on the window. As the rhythmic hum of the bus lulls you into a state of drowsiness, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. The warmth of the moment envelops you, and soon, you find yourself dozing off as well.

Once you get off the bus, you wrap your arms around your waist as you shiver. The weather is distinctly different. It seems to have been raining all day. The sky is darkening. School buses cannot take you home because there is no bus stop near your house. Forest Hill Trailer Park is in the isolated part of Hawkins. There is no one from the high school living there, so you can't ask anyone for a ride. It's not like anyone would have offered anyway. You've always walked to and from school, in total it takes you forty minutes. As you start to walk away from the bus, you hear footsteps behind you and Billy is at your side, effortlessly catching up with you. You realize his car is parked a few steps away from you. The gleaming navy blue Camaro stands out among the other cars, "CALIFORNIA" on the license plate.

You take the opportunity to thank him before he can dart away and you will probably never exchange another word again.

“Hey,” you start, turning to look at him. “I just wanted to thank you for paying at lunch today.”

Billy plays with the lighter, making it bounce in his hand. “It’s nothing. How are you getting home?”

“Oh, I’m walking.” you point your thumb at the road on your left.

“Come on. I’ll drive you.”

Your mouth opens and closes stupidly, then your brain finally decides to cooperate. Accepting his offer feels like taking advantage of his kindness. You don't want to do this. “I…it’s not a long walk, don’t worry about it.”

“It’s probably gonna rain soon.” he points at the sky, walking past you and toward the parked car.

“You don’t have to.” you insist, guilt filling my stomach as he opens the passenger door for you.

“I know.” he chuckles.

The soft thrumming of a rock song fills the air, the bass pulsing gently as Billy lowers the volume as soon as he turns the engine on. The interior of the Camaro envelops you in a world that feels distinctly his. The smell of leather fills your senses, mingling with the faint scent of his cologne. It's clear that he takes immense pride in his car and the care and attention he devotes to it reflects on the interior. The leather seats feel soft and smooth. There's not a speck of dust anywhere, even in the corners. A pair of aviators rests on the dashboard.

You give him directions, your voice cutting through the quiet ambiance of the car. He nods in acknowledgment, his gaze focused on the road ahead. His left arm casually drapes against the window, while his other hand firmly grasps the top of the steering wheel.

“It’s quite a walk,” he observes as the Camaro speeds through the road surrounded by the woods.

“Yeah…”

You’re thinking of asking him to stop before getting to Forest Hill, but it’s pouring and you don’t have an umbrella. As you get closer and closer, anxiety starts rippling through you. You shake the feeling out of your head. You’re being ridiculous, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. Additionally, you barely know him. You try and distract yourself, asking him about where he lives instead.

“Cherry Lane. You know where it is?”

“Yes, it’s a nice and quiet area. It’s not that far from school either,” you observe.

Billy absently scratches his chin, the glint of a silver braided ring catching your eye. “Yeah. It’s quiet, that’s for sure.”

You find yourself wondering about its significance. Does it have one? You've heard numerous accounts of Billy's involvement in fights at parties, tales of the severe injuries sustained by those who crossed him, and the ferocity of his punches. How many times has that ring been tainted with someone else's blood? Despite the rumors surrounding his aggressive behavior, your interactions with Billy have always been positive. He's consistently shown kindness to you.

Billy turns left, veering off the main road onto a narrow side road, the tires crunching on the gravelly dirt path that winds its way towards Forest Hills. The rain drums insistently against the car, a steady rhythm punctuating the silence between you.

The first trailer emerges into view, its weather-beaten exterior casting a shadow of foreboding over your already uneasy mind. Despite your discomfort, you muster the courage to speak up, directing Billy to continue driving until the end of the road.

You steal a furtive glance at him, searching for any hint of judgment in his expression, but Billy remains impassive. There's no trace of surprise or disdain in his features. His gaze lingers on the scene before you, studying it with a detached curiosity that seems to characterize his view of Hawkins as a whole.

“Thanks again for today, really. I wanna pay you back,” you venture as he slows down.

Billy waves a dismissive hand before settling it on the gear shift, smoothly transitioning into first gear. “I told you it’s no big deal. Wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

You worry at your lip, still not totally convinced. You glance at him. “I know that. But it doesn’t sound fair. It’s important to me.”

Billy's gaze shifts to the road ahead as he seemingly considers your words. "If you really wanna make it up to me," he starts, his voice trailing off for a moment before he continues, "How about you show me around Hawkins sometime?"

You blink, caught off guard by his suggestion. "Show you around Hawkins?"

"Yeah," he nods, resting his forearm loosely on the steering wheel as he gestures while he talks. "I've only been here a short while, and I don't really know my way around outside downtown yet. Like, all the places you talked to me about. The lake, the quarry."

The idea appeals to you, though the thought of spending more time with him outside of school never crossed your mind. The fact of spending time with him in the first place was out off the charts for you. "Sure, I could do that," you reply, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I mean, I'm not exactly a tour guide, but I could show you some cool spots. Whenever you want, uhm. Yeah.”

Billy reaches out to the compartment on the passenger side, brushing your knee with his arm. He opens it and extracts a pen.

“Here,” he takes off the cap with his teeth, and before you know it he’s taking your arm, gently lifting your sweater sleeve.

You try to look unfazed by his touch, though the feeling of his fingertips pressing gently against your skin as he holds your forearm, the sensation of the pen as he writes something on it makes you shiver, raising goosebumps. You look at him in silent confusion as he writes, his dark lashes brushing his cheekbones, a glimpse of pearly white teeth and a sharp canine as he holds the cap between them. Then he releases your arm, and you take a look at it while he takes the cap from his mouth. A series of numbers are written in blue ink on your skin. A phone number.

“Oh.” you say softly. You definitely haven’t expected that.

“Call me when you feel like it.”

It’s really hard for you to hide your nervousness, acting as cool as you can.

“Okay, will do.” you unbuckle your belt, glancing at him enough to give him a soft smile.

Billy nods at you in silent farewell before you close the passenger door. “Have a good night”.

“You too. Bye.”

The warmth of Billy's presence lingers in the car as you step out into the cool, damp air, the raindrops falling softly around you. Closing the door behind you, you watch as the sleek navy blue Camaro disappears down the little road and into the woods from the small window of the living room. As you stand there, the drops of water falling from the end of your hair, you can't help but brush at the phone number on your forearm, tracing the neat handwriting with your fingertips. It's like you're still trying to wrap your head around what just happened. Though you're trying to keep it under control, you can't help the fluttering feeling in your heart.

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